#they have no choice but to find each other

[thef1diary]

DIRTBAG CARLOS? idea idea idea: he takes you to play golf. no panties. Itty bitty golf skirt. he slides his cock in you when he’s teaching you how to play.

— good god this had me reeling 😵‍💫 maybe he’s ruined your panties on the drive over, leaving you with two options: wear your cum stained panties, or don’t wear anything at all. You chose the 2nd option but dirtbag!carlos is very unpredictable. 18+ content below

Carlos stands behind you, his body flush against yours as he helps you adjust your grip on the golf club. The heat of him is everywhere—his broad chest pressed to your back, his hand firm on your waist, his breath teasing the sensitive shell of your ear. The small golf skirt he insisted you wear barely covers anything, and the breeze licks at your bare thighs, a constant reminder of what he’d done to you earlier.

No panties. He’d made sure of that on the drive over with his hand between your thighs the entire time, ruining the delicate fabric until you had no choice but to leave them off entirely.

“Focus,” he murmurs, his tone sharp but laced with amusement as his hand slides lower, brushing the hem of your skirt. “You’re shaking, nena. Don’t tell me you’re distracted.”

“Carlos,” you gasp, trying to maintain some composure, but it’s impossible when his fingers trail higher, grazing your inner thighs.

He hums thoughtfully, his hand pausing just short of where you need it. “I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” he muses, gripping your hips and pulling you against him. “I bet you’re already dripping for me. Still so needy, hm? I just made you cum in the car.”

You bite back a whimper as his other hand guides the club in your grip, pretending for a moment like he’s actually going to help you. Then, in a swift move, he nudges your legs apart with his knee, pressing himself closer until you feel the hard, insistent line of his covered cock against your ass.

“Hold still,” he commands, his voice dropping into something darker, rougher.

You don’t even have time to react before you feel him, the blunt head of his cock slipping between your folds, teasing. He doesn’t bother with any warning, just one smooth, deliberate thrust that has him buried inside you. The stretch steals your breath, and you barely suppress a cry, your grip on the club faltering.

“Fuck,” Carlos groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you in place. “You’re so wet, nena. I barely had to try.”

You shudder around him, your legs trembling as he pulls back slightly, only to thrust forward again, deeper this time. His pace is relentless, each snap of his hips sharp and demanding, the filthy sounds of your slick arousal filling the air around you.

“Carlos,” you gasp, your voice high and desperate as you fight to stay upright.

“Quiet,” he growls, one hand slipping under your skirt to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “You don’t want anyone hearing us, do you?”

The thought makes your cheeks burn, but it also sends another wave of arousal coursing through you, and Carlos notices. “You like that, don’t you?” he taunts, his breath hot against your ear. “You like knowing anyone could walk by and see you bent over like this, taking my cock.”

You can only moan in response, your body tightening around him as he drives into you over and over, each thrust deeper than the last. His hand snakes around to your front, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, merciless circles.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Your body obeys before your mind can catch up, your release hitting you like a tidal wave. Your knees buckle, and Carlos curses, gripping you tightly as you shatter around him.

He doesn’t stop. His pace turns almost punishing as he chases his own release, his groans growing louder until he finally stills, buried deep inside you as he spills himself with a rough, broken moan.

You tremble beneath him, legs shaky as you fight to stay upright, but before you can fully catch your breath, he pulls out. The sudden emptiness makes you gasp, and the warm, sticky sensation of him dripping out of you has your thighs clenching instinctively.

He takes a step back, adjusting himself and smoothing his shirt as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, you’re left reeling, flushed and half-dazed, gripping the golf club for balance.

“Carlos,” you whimper softly, your voice laced with desperation, but he’s already picking up another club, his focus shifting to the pristine green ahead.

“What?” he asks casually, his tone maddeningly nonchalant as he lines up his stance. “I told you we came here to play golf, cariño.”

You bite your lip, your body still humming with need despite the way his release trickles down your inner thighs. You shift, trying to steady yourself, but every movement reminds you of how full you are, and it’s impossible to focus on anything else.

Carlos smirks, clearly noticing your struggle. He turns his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. “What’s wrong, princesa?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Filled you too much to concentrate?”

Your cheeks burn, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “I need—”

“Ah,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening as he straightens up. “No whining. You want more? You have to earn it.”

“Earn it?” you repeat, breathless and incredulous.

He steps closer, leaning in just enough that you can feel the heat of him without him actually touching you. “That’s right,” he purrs, his voice low and teasing. “Play the game. Prove to me you’re paying attention, and maybe I’ll let you ride me in the golf cart.”

want more dirtbag!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[n4nikeni]

Over? We're far from over.

——————————————————————

Characters : Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto

Summary : your father had hired two bodyguards for you. Fortunately, they were both your type. One was strict and rough and the other one was carefree and soft. No one knew what goes on behind closed doors.

A/N : I might turn this into a series because bodyguard gojo and Geto!! Hell yeah

——————————————————————

“Gojo! Do you see her? Anywhere in this room?” Geto asked as he looked around everywhere into the crowded club. Flashing lights hitting everyone's eye and the loud music that could be heard from miles away. Gojo on the other hand, was getting tipsy already. A girl came up to him and offered him drinks and who was he to decline such a beauty?

Geto pushed through the crowd and grabbed on his shoulder. Snatching away the small cup in his hands “Gojo you can't be serious right now, she just left without telling us anything and she's nowhere to be found in here! Her height doesn't help either.” Gojo let out a sudden laugh after hearing Geto's remark about their client's height. It was quite true. You were bold enough to sneak out of your place and disobey your father. More than that, your personal bodyguards. But it wasn't really your fault either. You had been bugging them to take you to your friend's birthday party and they can even tag along into the club, Satoru did agree, but Suguru isn't easy to convince.

You weren't drunk, well, not yet. Your friends dragged you on the dance floor and got you enough drinks to be carefree and dance away with ease. Gojo stood up, easily towering over everyone there, he immediately found you swaying your hips with your friends, one was behind you with their hands on your hips and the other infront of you, too drunk to process anything. “There she is, her height might not be helpful but those eyes? Yeah.” Geto followed behind Gojo and finally got to where you were dancing. Suguru is a patient man. After all, you're his client. So, he has no choice. He picked you up by your waist and threw you over his shoulder. That's when you finally realized what you were doing and where you were. Gojo was behind Geto, grinning at you and as you looked up to see your surroundings and process what's going on. “What are you two doing here?! How'd you find out where I am!” you hit on Geto's shoulders. Though your light punches were not effective on him

“We have our ways.”

Satoru opened the car's door as Suguru got in the backseat with you, looking behind to make sure that you don't accidentally hit your head on the way. He placed you down on his thigh as Satoru got in after you two, closing the car's door behind him. Suguru shifted you on his lap, making you face him entirely. His big hands gripping onto your hips, you knew it'll leave a mark with the way he was digging his fingers in your milky skin. “it hurts!” you squirm in his lap, trying to escape his rough hands. “Oh it should. You didn't think once before going out on your own, did you think about what could've happened to you? How it would affect us?” He said, his voice laced with anger and concern. You wanted to speak up but you knew you shouldn't. There's really no explanation for your behavior. You felt Satoru's palm snaking up on your thighs, squeezing each part before moving upwards. “We'd like to remind you about the rules we had set when we became your bodyguards, right sugu?”

“Ah!— too rough!” you protester against suguru's violent thrusts. You were laying on top of Satoru. His cock buried nestled deep inside your velvety walls. He didn't move. He couldn't move. Geto's heavy cock was pounding in you. He couldn't wait no more. Prepping you to take both of them at once wasn't easy. Gojo laid there and enjoyed suguru's base rubbing on his length as he ploughed into you with no mercy. “fucking take it— You have to take it all.” Geto says as he grunts from the way you clenched so deliciously around him. Trapping both him and satoru inside you. Meanwhile, Satoru flicked on your sensitive nipples with his fingers and kissed you to shush you up. Even though anyone who walks or drives past your car would know what's happening inside. “Mmh..you taste like liquor. How many shots did they give you hm?” he asked. You struggled to answer him as suguru pulled you by your hair, your back hitting his chest. Satoru's eyes widen as he notices the small bulge that forms everytime suguru thrusts inside and disappears when he pulls back. He licked his lips and moved his hand from your plump nipples to your swollen clit, rubbing and pinching on it like it's a small toy. You felt the intense pleasure from his fingers and the two cocks already overwhelming you. Before you could moan out, suguru placed his free hand on your mouth, muffling any noises that were about to come out of your mouth. “I'm close..I'm so—close princess...I'm gonna fill you up with all I have. And you're gonna take it.” he punctuated the last two words with hard thrusts. Your head falling on his shoulder as your eyes rolled back. Satoru sits up and kisses on your body, sloppy kisses all over your neck to your chest and stomach, while his fingers kept on fumbling with your puffy clit. Suguru's pace was getting sloppy. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his release. You weren't as close as him. After all they did make you come twice before getting in. It'd take time for your third release. Geto shot his thick and warm semen all the way up to your womb. Filling you up. Your legs went numb as you shuddered. Geto let go of your hair and as you fall on top of Gojo. He slowly pulls out and sits back down, gasping for air. It was finally. Or, was it?

Gojo sighed and placed my legs down, shifting you too as you were now on his lap. “He sure took his sweet time with you baby, but what about me?” Satoru grinned as he slowly thrusted up in your creamy walls. It was far from over.

[flameswallower]

For the decade between my conscious realization that I was probably trans, or wanted to transition (circa age 17, around 2006), and the time I actually, seriously began coming out to people in my real life and taking steps to transition in my real life (age 28, in late 2017 and early 2018), there are two things I really wanted and needed to hear from out trans people. I heard them a couple of times, but probably not enough in the face of all the directly contradictory messages I was also getting— I think hearing this stuff consistently online and in IRL queer spaces could have cut those ten years in half, at least.

The first is, you know, “you are already on hormones and you find them rather suboptimal. do you feel like you’re not trans enough to need or deserve the type of HRT you want? well, that’s stupid. this should be a choice you can make freely for no reason other than that you want to. if you get the opportunity you should try it, no matter how your specific gender identity shakes out.”

The second is, “actually, you are meaningfully trans the second you declare your transness. that time you tried to get people to use they/them pronouns for you but almost everybody ignored the request or made it super clear they just saw you as your AGAB anyway? that sucked. the people you saw online saying you shouldn’t take certain non-medical steps to alter your appearance in a gendered way unless you were both ‘really trans’ and all the way out of the closet, or else you were trying to trick people and appropriating Something Important from the Actual, Out trans people? they were being stupid and narrow-minded, not to mention ignorant about the ways people tend to realize they are trans to begin with. If you say you are/want to be trans, I will support you in everything you want out of that even if it’s unconventional, or you do end up deciding against HRT/can’t take it, or you still ‘look like’ your AGAB to me, or you don’t pass as your actual gender well, or you still have to live publicly as your AGAB for a time, or or or…regardless, you are not some orphan who’s neither really trans nor really cis and accepted by cis people.”

I think these messages work really well together, and don’t contradict each other in any way. I also think they’re both going to become increasingly radical things to say over the next several years, at least in mixed company or to someone who is still closeted or mostly closeted.

It might be paranoid of me, but I have earnestly wondered whether some of the trans discourse that tries to pit “no-ho transition is a totally valid option that may interest you, and people who transition this way are (already) trans” against “HRT is great, if you think you want it you should try it if you can, informed consent is the way forward” is an op. It feels op-ish to me! It’s incredibly obvious that neither of these positions are remotely “truscummy,” since those are people who believe both that trans people who have “weird” genders and/or don’t medically transition are not “really” trans, AND that HRT should be heavily gatekept to prevent people who aren’t “really trans” or “trans enough” accessing it.

I think that saying "it's ok to be trans and not transition" is like saying "it's okay to be gay and not pursue gay relationships." like. it's obviously permissible, it is socially normative, it is the expectation placed on all people within society. Honestly, spreading "positivity" about not transitioning isn't even value neutral, I think it's outright transphobic.

[annabelle--cane]

there's an unspoken subtext that colors all of jon and georgie's interactions, and it's how exactly their relationship played out when they were last in contact. jon thinks they left off on a sour note and speaks about her like they don't know each other, but georgie apparently only has nice things to tell melanie, a fact which surprises jon. they're immediately comfortable in each others' company when they meet up again and banter about mutual friends and georgie's weird tinder matches. she's the first person he thinks of when he needs somewhere to crash, and she is remarkably trusting about letting him turn up with just the clothes on his back to stay in her house unattended all day with no questions asked, but their trust in each other has hard limits.

if he's just chilling at her place, georgie is fine to let him explain in his own time, she dgaf, she'll lie to the police for him and barely think anything of it, but if he's compulsively obsessed with whatever thing landed him there then she is not having that at all. she assumes it's fully possible for him to leave it alone and that he's just not making the right choices about it. she says he was a good person but she's not so sure about the present. and even though georgie works in the paranormal scene and therefore presumably already believes in the supernatural, jon is steadfastly convinced that she'll think he's delusional if he tries to explain himself, and therefore keeps offering to just up and leave and get out of her hair every time she asks him to help her understand.

however their last relationship ended, it left georgie with plenty of affection for jon that he's perfectly willing to return when given the opportunity, but it also left him with the feeling that her compassion for him doesn't extend very far. it left georgie thinking that jon is fine and trustworthy as a person, but that he's given to acting irrationally and making choices that endanger himself and those around him. from how comfortable they are together, I don't think it was a case of slow relationship rot where they started to find each other unbearable, I think it was something fairly quick and discrete where they just pulled the plug and more-or-less stopped speaking. hmm.

[lurkingshan]

Shan's Favorite Dramas of 2024

The year is wrapping up and I have forced myself to narrow down to a list of 15 (I tried 10 but the choices were too hard!) of my favorite 2024 dramas across genres and countries of origin. This is not every drama I liked this year (that list would be incredibly long), but these are the ones that inspired the most brain rot and really stuck with me.

At 25:00 in Akasaka (Japan, Gaga)

The mood and tone of this drama was just perfect, and I loved the way it explored the blurred lines and confusion that can result when the real and fake aspects of a professional relationship get all mixed up. Hayama was a great character and I loved his arc, in particular.

Cherry Magic (Thailand, Viu)

I still can't believe how much I loved this adaptation. A fantastic example of taking a work from another culture and translating it to a new context while not only retaining the core narrative, but even enhancing it. This show gave us what the Japanese version didn't--the resolution to the physical intimacy arc at the core of the premise--and retained all the charm of the original while adding new humor. And delivered one of the best romances of the year while it was at it!

Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear (Japan, fansub)

Oppan, my beloved. Easily the best family drama of the year, loaded with excellent messages while (mostly) avoiding feeling like an after-school special. Makoto's journey to update his thinking with Daichi's help, and the mutual friendship that developed between them, is one of my favorite relationships of the year. I loved every character's story; there is something for everyone to connect with in this show.

Fangs of Fortune (China, iQIYI)

This drama was just so much FUN. A gorgeous feast for the eyes, a wealth of fascinating characters and relationship dynamics, and a fast-moving plot that you don't need to try too hard to understand. It was a great binge and Li Lun was easily my favorite villain of the year.

Gyeongseong Creature (South Korea, Netflix)

A gorgeous period piece set during one of the darkest chapters of Korean history, this one took me by surprise (I am usually not a horror girlie). The writing for this show had surprising depth and I loved its themes around family and loyalty and survival under fascism.

Knock Knock Boys (Thailand, Gaga)

My boys! I loved this show about a group of four queer men living together in a shared house, getting into mischief and supporting each other through school and work and relationship struggles. The show is funny and breezy but also manages to tackle some serious issues with grace while delivering two strong romances and my favorite coming out narrative of the year.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (South Korea, iQIYI)

Winner for best QL of the year, and a romance that will be sticking with me for a long time. Dohoe is one of the most honest and unflinching depictions of a an adult psyche shaped by childhood abuse that I have ever seen on my screen. It was healing to see him treated with such compassion and to see him and Juyoung find their way to a happy life together. An absolute must watch for all you angst with a happy ending fans.

Love for Love’s Sake (South Korea, iQIYI)

It's so hard to get a high concept premise like this right, but this drama did an amazing job with it. It's one of those shows where you can go back over everything that happened in retrospect and it all adds up, and I loved that the ending lent itself to so many different interpretations. One of the best watch experiences of the year.

Love in the Big City (South Korea, Viki)

Go Young, my beloved. This drama adaptation of the internationally successful novel exceeded my wildest expectations, and I am still a little stunned that we got the privilege of seeing it. It is, bar none, the most authentically queer show on this list, and a beautiful depiction of all the significant relationships in one young man's life. I will be rewatching it many times and keeping it close to my heart.

Love is Like a Poison (Japan, fansub)

A masterful blend of comedy, action, and romance, this drama about a lawyer with delusions of grandeur and the scam artist who decides to become his partner was a constant delight and gave us my favorite battle couple of the year.

Marahuyo Project (Philippines, YouTube)

I can't tell you the joy and relief I felt to get another high quality queer drama from the Philippines this year. And this one had such a great cast of characters, anchored by one of my favorite protagonists of the year in King. It's funny, it's romantic, it's touching, and as always for a JP Haboc production, it has an amazing soundtrack.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat (Japan, fansub)

My girls! I'm still amazed by how much this drama gave us in its second season by expanding the world of the show beyond our two main characters to include so many other women whose stories were just as fascinating. This is the season where Nomoto and Kasuga really came into themselves and started building the life they want to have together, and it was a real joy to watch.

Tender Light (China, YouKu)

The way this show had me in a chokehold while it was airing! Visually stunning, incredibly well-constructed, and featuring one of the best performances of the year from Zhang Xin Cheng, it's an exhilarating mystery and a very touching story of the unusual bond between a student and the older woman who fascinates and terrifies him.

The Midnight Romance in Hagwon (South Korea, Viki)

You know a drama is good when it has you deeply invested in a random topic you never thought you were interested in. In this case, that's the intense debate on pedagogical methods between the public schools and hagwons in Korea. Alongside delivering a great romance, this drama was passionate about teaching and it sucked me right in to the Korean literature lessons at the heart of the story.

Unknown (Taiwan)

No other drama inspired more brain rot in me this year than this story of a family rocked by changing feelings as the chosen siblings grow up. The loyalty and love and complex desire between Wei Qian and Wei Yuan is the heart of this story, and the drama did an incredible job of taking us along for the journey as things shifted and changed between them. I still think about them all the time.

Bonus: Favorite Classic Dramas Watched for the First Time in 2024

I am always catching up on an endless backlog of dramas alongside my live watches. Here are the best gems I finally watched this year.

Lost (South Korea, Viki)

I loved this deeply melancholy drama about two lost souls who connect unexpectedly. I finally pulled it up from my to be watched list because it shares director Hur Jin Ho with Love in the Big City (he did part 2 with Go Young's mom) and it sure feels like it! The characters are deep and complicated, the relationships are complex and carefully built, and it is hands down the best encapsulation of a failed marriage between two good people who truly loved each other that I have ever seen. It's heavy and not for everyone--mining the depths of human despair is kind of its thing--but if you like this sort of story it's world class.

Mouse (South Korea, Viki)

I was recently in the market for a good mystery thriller, so I finally watched this apparently very divisive 2021 drama--and if there's a divide I am firmly on the HELL YEAH side of the line. This drama had an interesting concept (that I will not describe bc holy shit spoilers, you should go in knowing nothing) that it unwound with remarkable patience and precision over 20 episodes. Its themes were strong and consistent, the lead characters were super compelling, the plotting and pacing and editing were unbelievably tight, the performances were incredible, and it made a lot of provocative points and ended well, feeling coherent and complete. It sustained my full interest and attention without any stumbles for ~25 incredible hours.

Mr. Sunshine (South Korea, Netflix)

Another one that's been on my watch list forever and finally got its moment when I was in the mood for a historical where ladies got to wield weapons alongside the men. And unsurprisingly, I loved it. Writer Kim Eun Sook is known for her big, glossy, epic dramas, and her style made a good pairing with a story about a rebel faction during the Japanese occupation of Korea. I really loved all the main characters in this show, and was moved by the complicated exploration of their loyalty (or lack thereof) to their homeland. This drama also has a very strong class analysis baked into its themes, which I very much appreciated. It was a traumatic watch, but in a way that felt right given the setting and the choices characters made.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear (Thailand, YouTube)

I watched this one on a mission and it was worth every moment. Nut is one of my favorite protagonists in any queer drama, and I thought the show made great use of its fantasy concept to explore some very real human experiences with depth and compassion. This show feels like an especially important counterpoint to the Thal BL bubble, and I recommend it highly for anyone who enjoys those dramas.

When I Fly Towards You (China, Netflix)

And we end on a light and sweet note, with my favorite coming of age romance that I watched all year. This drama was just lovely, and it will be a go-to rewatch for me for years to come. There’s something so comforting about a story where you start with the happy ending before jumping to the beginning, and just get to sit back and see how they get there. I loved all the characters in this and marveled at how it was never boring despite being decidedly low angst.

[something-like-a-heart]

I’ve thought for a long time that Christmas as a religious holiday as opposed to a secular celebration gets confusing because there’s an element of choice there. So does Easter for similar reasons. In both cases, the celebrations as we know them today are heavily influenced by Christianity, but those roots are intertwined with the roots of other celebrations and traditions. They may or may not have existed before Jesus is supposed to have lived, and they don’t necessarily have anything to do with the story of Jesus, who almost certainly would not have been born in the winter and who absolutely didn’t have anything to do with rabbits flinging around chocolate eggs like sweet, potentially slightly dangerous (depending on velocity) confetti.

I know some non-Christians, including Pagans and atheists, who give and receive Christmas gifts. Many of them put up trees and enjoy singing non-religious songs of the season; my Pagan friends and I sometimes delight in rewriting the lyrics of religious ones to fit our Yule celebrations if we like the tunes enough. There’s something very lovely about a holiday that, at its best, centres itself around helping people who are struggling, gathering with people we love, sharing a meal we’ve all contributed to in some way, and doing small things to bring a bit of joy into each other’s lives at the darkest part of the year. And there’s nothing at all about any of these things that makes the religious celebration of Christmas mandatory.

I’ve also known Christians who only celebrate the religious version of Christmas, and again, that’s a choice that they can absolutely make. As much as Christmas as an extravaganza of overconsumption is pushed on us through advertising and other means, it isn’t mandatory to Buy! All! The! Things! (or any at all), or to make a big meal or do any of the secular things associated with the season. If you find something valuable and meaningful in the religious version of Christmas, that’s okay too. And of course it’s also okay to celebrate both together or neither at all if that’s what you want.

So whether or not you’re aware of Christmas as a holy day for a specific religion, as far as I’m concerned it comes down to a matter of choice whether it’s religious or not. For some people, it is. For others, it isn’t. For others still, it’s just another day in December. All of that can be true at once.

The holidays approacheth, which means it's time for the annual "has Christmas become secularized" argument. This is the metric I use (note that it only applies to holidays that are culturally dominant):

If the average child who has grown up in the culture (regardless of their religion) knows the religious basis of a holiday, it's a religious holiday. If they don't, it's secular.

Halloween: I think a lot of kids could tell you that it comes from All Hallows Eve, but at least in the US they wouldn't be able to tell you what that means. Secular holiday.

Valentine's Day: They would not have a single clue. Secular holiday.

Christmas: Birth of Jesus. I can't remember not knowing that. A major part of common and public observances (e.g. nativity scenes, omnipresent Christmas songs.) Religious holiday that some people celebrate for non-religious reasons.

[cosmerelists]

Should You Invite These Cosmere Characters to Boardgame Night?

As requested by anon. :)

I've done two boardgame-related posts before this (I love boardgames): Favorite Boardgames of Each Knights Radiant Order and Should You Invite the Shards to Boardgame Knight?

In this list, allow me to provide some advice about whether or not you should invite these Cosmere characters to your next boardgame night!

1. Adolin: Yes

Adolin is a delight at every social gathering. He brings wine that somebody at the store told him was good. He has fun with every game whether he wins or loses. By the end of the night, he is somehow the best friend of each individual guest.

2. Shallan: Yes

Is she cheating? Maybe. But she makes a lot of puns and you know that if she tries to cheat TOO much, Radiant will stop her.

3. Kaladin: No

He wins everything. It's annoying. He joined Settlers of Katan twenty minutes late and STILL won. How does he do it???

4. Kelsier: Yes

At first you were admittedly intimidated, as Kelsier kept smiling to himself and saying things like "Just wait until I reveal my Master Plan!" But actually, he kinda loses games...a lot. Keeps smiling, though, so you assume he's having a good time! What a good sport!

5. Vin: Only if you like losing

Like Kaladin, Vin wins all. the. time. But unlike Kaladin, she doesn't come late & then win in a blaze of sudden glory, no. She simply...destroys you. Continuously and brutally for the entire night.

6. Harmony: No

No offense to Harmony, who's a good dude 'n' all, but man, he takes FOREVER to make his next move. It's like--we're playing Sorry. You either move forward 10 or back 1. It's just two choices! How is he thinking for like 10 billion years??

7. Lopen: Maybe

Lopen likes to play around and tease people. He MAY mock you a little too much when your attempt to "Draw 2" him backfires and you find yourself drawing 8 cards in Uno... but other than that, he's a good time.

8. Blushweaver: Maybe

You didn't realize checkers even COULD be played as "Strip Checkers."

9. Tien: Yes

Tien is mostly concerned with making sure that everyone else is having a good time. Even after he gets killed during a round of "Werewolves," he continues to grin and encourage the rest of you to have a good time. W-Wait, why do you suddenly feel like crying?

10. Skar: Yes

Like Tien, Skar also seems chiefly concerned with making sure everyone else has a good time. Bonus: he's GREAT at explaining the rules!

11. Lightsong: Depends on how competitive you are

Ask yourself this: if there's a guy there who wins every game despite clearly and loudly not understanding the rules, would that be fun? If yes, then go for it. If no, then don't invite Lightsong--he doesn't understand how to play Hearts and he doesn't care to, yet he has shot the moon TWICE.

12. Nale: No

No one likes a rules lawyer.

13. Shai: Yes

Shai knows all of these obscure, complicated games that actually turn out to be really fun!

14. Hoid: No

Hoid knows all of these obscure, complicated games and while he does explain the rules, you can't shake the feeling that he's actually playing by an entirely different set of rules that he's not being totally honest about...

15. Elend: Yes

Elend was born to participate in board game nights weekly.

16. Telsin: No

She cheats 100% of the time. You didn't even know it was POSSIBLE to cheat in Connect 4, but she somehow found a way...

17. Raboniel: Well...

Raboniel is ENORMOUSLY competitive and cares very deeply about winning...but she also respects the game. She is surprisingly gracious about losing despite her eyes blazing with the heat of ten million suns as she slapped down that 7-letter word in Scrabble. Yet when you responded with your own, better 7-letter word, clinching the victory, you could tell that she respected you for it.

...But on the other hand, you've been clammy with fear sweats for 45 minutes now.

[jeonscatalyst]

Whenever I see people scrambling to dismiss the possibility that Jimin and Jungkook might be more than friends by resorting to arguments like “They’re brothers” or “Jimin said Jungkook is like his brother,” I can’t help but feel perplexed.

It’s genuinely baffling to me because, what did you expect Jimin to say? “Jungkook is my lover”? The lack of awareness in such arguments is striking, and honestly a little disheartening especially when it’s clear that many of these people haven’t taken the time to understand even the basics of queer history, the reality of being closeted, or the necessity of concealing relationships to protect oneself and loved ones in the face of societal prejudice.

When people bring up these points, I find myself asking the question “When did Jimin and Jungkook officially come out as a couple?” The answer, of course, is they haven’t. So why would anyone expect them to act in ways that are only possible for people who are openly out? If our (Jikookers) speculations about them are correct, it’s likely they are still closeted and may even be hiding their relationship from close friends and family.

This opinion might be unpopular, especially among jikookers who believe that if Jimin and Jungkook are together, their families would undoubtedly know. But I don’t think it’s that simple. In my experience, coming out isn’t an easy or universal process. It’s deeply personal and often influenced by cultural, familial, and societal factors, particularly in environments where homophobia is pervasive. I’m not going to go into the nitty gritty of why I think their parents and families might not be looped in because for many, unless you’ve lived it, known someone who has, or experienced such societal pressures firsthand, it’s difficult to fully grasp the complexities involved……..So I truly don’t see them letting their parents and families in on things as easy as many people believe it would be.

I think Jimin and Jungkook present themselves to the world as they believe the world sees them: bandmates, friends, and “brothers” from the same town. This aligns with public expectations and offers them a layer of protection. So how else would people expect them to describe their relationship?

Some might argue that they could avoid using terms like “brother,” altogether but let’s be realistic here……it likely doesn’t bother them. They know they’re not actually brothers and probably don’t view each other in that way. What’s more, I doubt they have any desire to let the public into the deeply personal aspects of their lives. While there may be a part of them that wishes to be accepted and loved for who they truly are, they likely understand that this isn’t a viable option right now.

The fear of opening a Pandora’s box of judgment and backlash likely keeps them from revealing anything beyond the surface. If calling each other “brothers” or even something as absurd as “father and son” ensures the safety of their bond, they’ll do whatever it takes to protect themselves and their relationship. That, unfortunately is what closeting sometimes entails so before you rush into my inbox thinking you’ve got a gotcha moment, remember this.

I hope people come to realize that this situation is far more complex than it seems. It’s easy to oversimplify or underestimate the challenges Jimin and Jungkook and other closeted people in homophobic societies might face but it’s crucial to remember that not everyone shares the same privileges or cultural realities. Not every society or culture is as accepting as yours might be. Not everyone has the opportunity to live their truth openly and without fear. You may not understand their choices, and you might not even relate to their struggles, but that doesn’t give you the right to dismiss or minimize them simply because their experiences don’t mirror your own.

Empathy and understanding are essential. Respect the fact that their journey, whatever it may be, is shaped by circumstances most of us can’t begin to imagine.

[lustlovehart]

I LOVE TWST monster au. It so cool and interesting!!! I'm INLOVE

I don't know if your taking requests or not but if you are I NEED to know more about Vil. Like have he every try to seduce you?? Like make you kiss him or worse 😳.

Anyway have a goodnight or goodday

Warnings: NSFW, some canon to the au, some past drafts, GN! Bodied Reader, Possession/Obsession

Ahaha… Funny you say this, in the monster list, Vil’s entire snippet was centered around reader and him being freaks before I realized I should tone it down 💀

First, Non-Canon/Draft stuff! The dynamic between reader and Vil was basically just

( They were fighting and then they somehow ended up in bed while they screamed hate at each other. When they were done they realized they lowkey liked it. )

Essentially, Vil is the only one in the monster cast who has ever been intimate with reader. In my mind, MH!Reader still understood it was wrong, so you never go all the way with him. You think this arrangement is completely reasonable, considering of firm Vil is on not letting you kill him. You’re entirely convinced he hates you, so letting him feed off you to feel the self indulgent pleasure of his tongue, is a fine arrangement.

Unbeknownst to you, every time he finds himself in the bed with you, he can only clench his nails. He’s been starving this whole time… Why? Because, contrary to you thinking he’s sapping your energy away, he hasn’t consumed a single piece of your vitality. Neither, has he seen anyone else to quench that desire.

It’s pathetic, he’s losing the soft feeling of his pure skin, simply cause he can’t bear the idea of slowly killing you. But, he doesn’t wanna do this with anyone else now. The only one he wishes to taste is you.

… Truly, what have you done to this all famed incubus?

Fun fact! The Incubus Vil fic I have written is actually before I changed this part of his lore, sooo, there might be a small chunk in there where it’s implied you and Vil had a freak off ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

And now onto Canon! This one will be a little vague to avoid heavy spoilers, but, you’re basically right! Vil does attempt to seduce reader, and it works, but only slightly.

Unlike MH!Reader previously, in the current au, they have a bit more self control, so you notice his seduction, and the sweet smell that wafts the air, but through simple will power, you push through the temptation.

There are several times where you wonder if you should just go through with it, but then you remember the hoard of monsters who act as your second shadow, the two monster hunters who will no doubt shoot Vil at every possible chance, and the angel Vil has a strong hatred for. Yeah, probably not the best choice.

Honestly, it ticks off Vil, but also is what makes him continue pursuing you. It would be easier to sleep with other people if you stopped looking at him with those eyes.

Yet, you don’t, so it’ll never happen.

[chooppi]

17. ICE SKATING - LOVEFOOL

DECEMBER 27TH 2024

6:02pm

you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before walking towards the hallway and putting your shoes on. you still have no idea what you and ace are supposed to do on your date, but you went with a safe clothing choice. a pair of jeans together with an off shoulder black top.

you put on a puffer jacket as well as a pair of shoes and gloves. it’s snowing outside as well as freezing cold, so going out with your hands out in the open would cause them to freeze to death.

when you open the front door to walk outside, ace is already standing there outside of his car, leaning against one of the doors as he looks down at his phone.

as he hears you close the front door behind you, he looks up and flashes you a light smile. he’s wearing a pair of black suit pants and a puffer jacket. his black hair has a few snowflakes, almost making it look white on top of his head.

he opens his arms up and pulls you in for a hug when you come closer. “hi,” he mumbles before pulling away and looking at you. his gaze is faltering, looking around as if to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

“hi,” you reply with a smile playing on your lips. ace opens the door to the passenger seat and you get in, watching as he walks over to the other side of the car and getting in behind the steering wheel.

he’s quick to start the car and drive off, both hands on the wheel as he keeps his eyes on the road. it’s difficult to find the right words when you’re sitting beside him, just the two of you in the same car.

“how was your christmas?” he suddenly asks, giving you a quick glance before looking away again. “it was good, how was yours?”

“mine was good as well,” he replies before going quiet again, thinking of a million questions he wants to ask at the same time. he doesn’t know whether it’s uncomfortable with this silence or if he spoke too much.

“what are we gonna do?” you then ask, looking towards him with a smile on your lips. he reflects it while meeting your eyes. “we’re going ice skating,” he speaks before his eyes goes back to the road. perhaps it’s an unusual type of date, but dinner felt too boring and basic.

“i looked it up and we can borrow ice skates at the rink,” ace explains before you can ask any more questions. “are you any good at it, ice skating?”

you shake your head. “not really, haven’t been at the rink for years. how about you?” he as well, shakes his head. “i’m not good at all, just hoping you embarrass yourself more than i do.”

you roll your eyes at that and flick his shoulder, causing him to chuckle before it goes quiet yet again. this time, the silence continues until you finally reach your destination, the ice rink.

ace gets out of the car and goes to open the door for you, closing it when you’ve gotten out and stretch a little after the short car ride.

the tall man in front of you leads the way towards the ice rink where you can find the skates, and sit down on a bench to put them on. he is quiet while doing so, not knowing what to say as the same goes for you.

after a while, he stands up, watching as you do the same. without thinking, he reaches for your hand as you’re about to step down onto the ice, wanting to make sure you don’t trip and hurt yourself when he’s near.

you take his hand and let him take you onto the ice. you can’t help but stumble a little after not having done this for so many years, and even if ace does the same he succeeds to hold you up on your feet.

as you begin to move forward, you hold onto his entire arm, not wanting to fall. ace is just simply trying his best not to embarrass himself even if he keeps losing balance too. “i didn’t know it would be this difficult,” you giggle, looking around at the others who are basically flying forward gracefully.

“we’ll get the hang of it soon,” he tries to convince both you and himself as you hold onto each other for a good few minutes until you’re getting your balance back.

he lets go of you, letting his gaze follow as you move around by yourself, going a little faster than him. you go around the entire circle, suddenly coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around him. “you’re so slow,” you say before coming up by his side again.

ace chuckles lightly and takes your hand again. “i wouldn’t say you’re super fast yourself,” he speaks, finally quickening his pace slightly while pulling you along.

you’re by his side, following him around as you skate on the ice. he’s smiling widely, chuckling each and every time you almost trip and you do the same to him. it’s nice, not having to speak all the time and just getting to laugh with one another, exchanging smiles and laughs.

all of a sudden however, he comes to a stop, causing you to bump into him and fly backwards, landing on your back.

he turns around in a millisecond, looking at you who’s now on the ground with your head against the ice. “holy shit, did you hit your head?” ace gets onto his knees beside you, a little clumsy but he still succeeds not to fall onto you.

“no, i’m fine,” you reply, sitting up again. ace puts his hand on your back and rubs it comfortingly. “it’s your fault i fell though,” you points at his chest and he chuckles lightly, ruffling your hair before trying to get back on his feet.

he takes both of your hands, pulling you up while trying not to fall and when your back up on your feet, he puts an arm around your waist to make sure you won’t lose your balance again. “you sure you’re okay?” he asks and you give him a nod.

“i’m fine, don’t worry,” you flash him a smile before continuing to skate around on the ice while staying so close to him.

almost an hour later, after laughing and smiling together, continuously tripping over and almost stumbling backwards, having to hold onto each other so you won’t fall, you’re now done, taking off the ice skates and putting on your sneakers again.

it has been a short date, but nevertheless, you can’t help the butterflies flying around in your stomach just at the sight of him. he’s walking in front of you towards his car, opening the door for you to step inside again.

“did you have fun?” ace asks as he’s driving you back to your place. there is a smile on his face as he looks at you who nods. “i did, thank you for taking me here today.”

as you arrive back home, both of you step outside of the car to hug each other goodbye. his arms wrap around your waist while yours go around his neck. “i’m happy you wanted to see me today,” ace mumbles as you pull away from one another.

“of course i wanted to see you,” you respond. his hand goes to brush through your hair and for a little while, he just looks into your eyes. “i’ll see you again at new years,” he mumbles before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

it’s a bit more comfortable than last time, his hand moving towards your cheek, keeping it warm as his lips move against yours gently. the kiss is soft and sweet, and he’s holding you as if you were made out of glass.

when he pulls away he leans his forehead against yours. “gonna try not to freak out this time,” he whispers which causes you to giggle. “yeah, me too.”

SIXTEEN | MASTERLIST | EIGHTEEN

PAIRING: portgas d ace x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: who could’ve known it was so easy to fall for portgas d ace? it’s only unfortunate that he’s your best friends brother.

TAG LIST: @captaincyberqueen @adamsfanficstash @nerium21 @captainportgasdace @stuckinmymind22 @opchara @krooschl @teewon @fuckisthatahotghost @lilypadmomentum @kitsunechan707 @vyainide @venusss-ss @lizzie3d2y @b-bbytears @chugging-bleach @jaguarthecat @tojislawyer @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @shamrockfish @dea-cordis @zzzzzoey @miyanaranagikenmal-intp @aikuute

[fawninthesnow]

Ich hoffe es ist ok das ich auf deutsch schreibe aber ich dachte mir das ist für uns beide vielleicht einfacher ist. Ich habe eine Idee für eine deiner Imagines was wäre wenn Acacius und Lucilla eine Tochter hätten und Geta sie unbedingt für sich haben will.❤️

Translation: (I hope it's well that I write in German, but I thought it might be easier for us. I have an idea for one of your imagines what would happen if Acacius and Lucilla had a daughter and Geta absolutely wants to have her for himself.)

Thank you so much for the German <3 Du bist die Süßeste! Mwah!

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧: One shot

𐙚 Emperor Geta x Fem Reader! 𐙚 18+

Summary: You are the daughter of Queen Lucilla and General Acacius. You attend the birthday celebration of the two emperors and find yourself entangled with Emperor Geta.

Warnings/contains: Luring, manipulation, obsession, idealization, not proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 1.7k

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

Spread out on your bed were the options for tonight's dresses, all in shades of purple to honor the emperors' birthday. You weren’t paying much attention to your tailor as he highlighted the various features and fits of each gown. Although you had never formally met Geta, you were familiar with Caracalla. You paced around your canopy bed, lost in thought about the gifts you had chosen for the emperors. “Who dislikes gold?” You asked yourself before sighing.

“Darling! Do not take too long!” Mother Lucilla called from the hallway outside your door.

You picked up a deep purple dress; it was quite sheer, featuring long sleeves that extended beyond your fingertips. “It will be warm tonight. This is a good choice.” The tailor smiled and left you to dress.

Rather quickly, you slipped on matching shoes. You called over a servant, “Please gather my gifts for the emperors. Put them in the chariot.”

You and your mother arrived at the palace, and as soon as the servants spotted her, they promptly ushered you both inside. Once inside, you were followed and fanned to ensure your comfort. “How long must we stay here?” A whisper left your lips, and your arm interlocked with your mother’s.

“They will not let us out of their sight.” You nodded.

Upon seeing your father by the emperor's side, you rushed to him and embraced him tightly. Despite the discomfort from the metal armor pressing against your torso, you didn’t mind it at all. “Hello, my darling.” Acacius gently kissed your forehead, cradling your head in his hands. He then kissed your mother on the lips before letting go of both of you.

Gazing off into the distance, Caracalla smiled as his friends arrived, surrounding him with chatter.

Geta was rather distracted himself. “A daughter?” He asked aloud.

You and your parents looked towards him as more guests were ushered into the main room, where gifts were being set down and music filled the air. “Ahh, yes. This is my daughter, [Y/n].”

You extended your hand to the emperor for him to take it. Instead, he clasped your palm and kissed the back of your hand. “It is my pleasure.” His gaze was both intimate and powerful, as if he were commanding your stutter or even your silence.

“I- uh, thank you.”

“[Y/n], it is nice to meet you.” You nodded with enthusiasm. Even though the interaction felt a bit awkward, neither of your parents were in a position to address it. Your father was summoned by one of his men, and your mother became preoccupied with the gift arrangements. Geta glanced over your shoulder, “Tsk, where did your parents go, Love?”

You scanned the room, feeling adrift among the crowd of guests. Some were attempting to engage with the emperors, while others averted their eyes, and many simply stood in awe of the palace's grandeur. Amidst the chorus of "Happy Birthdays" ringing out, you found yourself unable to spot the familiar faces of your loved ones. “I do not know.”

“That is alright. You can stay with me. Does that sound ok?” He asked, draping his arm over your shoulders, creating a more intimate space in all the chaos of the party.

“Yes, that is ok.”

The man smiled and you blushed back at him. “You look beautiful, [Y/n].”

“Thank you, my emperor.”

“There is no need for that. Call me Geta.” You followed after him as he led you from the party and towards the throne room. “Much quieter here, huh? Now I can hear your sweet voice without interruption.”

You didn't want to deceive yourself. You were undeniably attracted to him, but he had a somewhat off-putting demeanor that made you hesitate. His mannerisms were a bit awkward, and his confidence sometimes bordered on arrogance. Still, there was something compelling about him that drew you in—perhaps the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about his passions or the intensity of his gaze when he focused on you.

As you glanced around for others, searching for an escape or perhaps a distraction, you realized it was just the two of you in this secluded space. The air felt charged, heavy with unspoken words and lingering glances. A part of you wanted to walk away, to find solace in the company of friends, yet another part was curious to see where this strange pull could lead. The uncertainty was intoxicating, leaving you both exhilarated and apprehensive, caught in a moment that felt both thrilling and precarious. “You are very kind, but I actually like birthday celebrations.”

“Oh, is that right? When is your birthday?” He sat on his throne, drawing you closer.

“It was last week.”

“Ahh, you are joking.” You shook your head, “Really? That is very interesting. We are so close together! I wish I had known you sooner!” You only smirked. This was nearly surreal—being this close to the emperor. Of course, Caracalla was an emperor too, but he was different. Quite humble at times, Caracalla. “How old are you now?”

“Nineteen.” However, the atmosphere surrounding Geta was distinct. Just his presence had a way of making you feel both physically and morally diminished. How could you possibly refuse him? He rested his palm over his mouth as he gazed at your body from his throne. “May I touch this?” You pointed to a black and gold lacquered vase.

“You may touch anything you like.” As the sun began to set in the throne room, shadows moved across the floor.

“Thank you.” You gently touched the vase and the statues around the room. Your adventure ended at the thrones. “May I?” You asked, touching the throne beside him.

“Please, sit.” You sat on the throne and turned to towards the emperor. A pretty smirk on your lips as you mocked his hand placement over your chin. “You look beautiful there…”

“Are you not at all interested in your party? Your gifts?”

“I…now have everything I desire.”

“Everything? Well, I guess you really are the emperor of “all under the sun”?”

He shook his head, “In no way. Well, some say that.”

You viewed him through a glass you found beside the thrones. You closed one eye and smiled at him. “If my father keeps expanding your empire, then someday, yes.”

“Yes, your father has given me many unforgettable treasures…” He stood from his throne and went to your feet. You sat on one of your legs and looked below at the man who went to his knees. His gaze was too lost in your curves, your legs, waist, and breasts.

“Are you feeling, ok?”

He took your hand, and placed it onto his cheek, “I have fallen for you.”

“W- what?” You laughed to yourself although the largest part of you had hoped what he was saying was honest. “No, no, my emperor—Geta, I just met you. That is not possible.”

“I do not need another second of confirmation. You are the woman I want.”

“Uhm, ok. That is ok. Let us go open your gifts, Geta.”

You tried to pull your hand from his cheek, but he kept his grip still on your palm against his face. “Mhhh, I am jealous of your parents.” He chuckled and stood, leaning over you. “They get to see such an ethereal view every day.” You smiled rather awkwardly and stood from the throne. You moved around Geta. However, his hand moved to your arm and pulled you back to his chest. “Where are you going, my love?”

“I- I should find my father. I think I left my—my belongings unattended.” You pulled from the young man and walked towards the exit. You know your father would not approve of how you followed him, nor the way this conversation took place. You are an unmarried woman alone with the emperor! This is unacceptable. It could tarnish your family name.

“Everything will be ok.” He pulled you back to him, your back against his chest. The man moved your hair from around your back, “I lied about something earlier…do not get angry.” He said with a chuckle, knowing his power over the situation. “My brother has told me about you. Briefly. However, this decision is all mine.”

“I am honored, my emperor…let us discuss this with my parents. After all, I need their permission anyway.”

“I am the emperor!” He nearly laughed in your face as he held your arms tightly. “And do not forget! It is my birthday! No gift could top this.” The emperor squeezed your hip before lifting you up into his arms.

“Geta! W- wait!”

The emperor carried you into the next room. In the main room where gifts adorned the tables and spilled onto the floors. Around the room, people dressed in purple and white conversed and some danced to the music playing. “Your attention!” The man spoke and the room fell silent. Caracalla peeked into the room from one of the many balconies. “My dear people of the court, Senate, and city…I would like to thank you all for coming to me and my brother’s celebration. I can feel the love from every direction...” Your mother pulled on your father’s clothes, directing his attention to the young woman in the emperor’s arms, you.

“Shit.” Your father muttered.

“I would also like to thank everyone for the gifts! Wherever my brother is, I would like to thank you all on his behalf as well! Now, although I am grateful!” The man put you on your feet and held one of your hands in his, raising it high. His other palm was over your stomach, holding you against him. “From the General himself…and his wife, Queen Lucilla: [Y/n]. I do not need to open a single gift to know this is my favorite. My love, my Promissa.” You were accustomed to surprises especially as being the daughter of the General, but this was something new.

The group of people erupted in whispers and gasps, “Congratulations.” A man of the senate clapped. The many people began to follow with waves of congratulations and happy wishes.

Your parents doubtfully clapped slowly. A shy smile on your lips as he swayed you both, back and forth. He gently planted a kiss on your neck, “I love you, [Y/n].”

This was a very fun request! <3

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

[genderqueerdykes]

I find the rebinarising of tran-ness so frustrating personally, no I am not going to let ANYONE refer to me by an agab, that's fucking stupid, why does it matter, none of anyone's business, that's private medical information or someone making a whole fuck ton of assumptions about me.

No I'm not gonna pick between transmasc and transfemme, I'm not neither either, I'm just not involved. I'm trans. End of story.

Can people stop trying to decide what boxes to put me in? This is what lead to me wanting to escape being cis!! Mind your business and leave me out of your shit, just be kind to each other.

I will always have my heart open to my fellow queers and transes (including intersex in either queer or trans if they so wish, they are family too if they wanna be (regardless of if they consider themself to be queer or trans they're family if they wanna be), they get fucked over by a lot of the same systems and I will fight for them to heard as much as I can), they are family, and whatever I can offer is theirs, why does anything else matter? Why does it matter what 'type' of queer I am? What 'type' of trans I am? I'm queer, I'm trans, and the rest is unneeded bullshit (for me at least, I'd never begrudge someone else their choices)

yeah i'm not okay with how people try to force each other to disclose what "Type" of queer they are. especially when it comes to agab. why are we acting like strangers HAVE to disclose their genitals in order to figure out if someone is "Safe" or not? how is that safe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that is the opposite of safe!!!! that's profiling, that's violence

you dont owe anyone any explanation for your identity. you don't owe them anything its up to you to decide what you divulge and i hate that people are pressuring you into thinking you basically have to misgender yourself in order for people to decide whether or not they feel "Safe" around you. people are boiling each other down to their genitals. again. it's so sickening. you don't have to use any of these binarist ass terms if they don't suit you. it's ridiculous that people are constantly reinventing the cisheteronormative binary again and again

you should be able to express your queerness without having to be interrogated about things that strangers don't even need to know in the first place. people are becoming so rude and invasive. take care of yourself, i'm sorry you've been going through this

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in Dec 2024. For more new fics, check out this month's fic roundup here. You can find my other fic recs here. Although I'm not yet ready to get back to podcasting, I do want to acknowledge all the great fics I read this month. Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments!

- Louis / Harry -

🌲 Be There by @mission2feelike

(NR, 179k, kid fic) The one where their family has been torn apart and their hearts broken, but an accident, a snowstorm, cinnamon rolls, and the adorable Josie force Louis and Harry to finally face the truth, and each other.

🌲 You Should Be Here With Me by @lululawrence

(NR, 34k, football) Louis and his teammates know all too well the pressure that is on their shoulders. They need to prove, not just to fans of the club but the entire league, that they still have what it takes to be a team worthy of fighting for the top of the table.

🌲 Your Reign is Free (to give along to Santa) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 28k, humor) It’s Christmas Eve. It’s a totally normal Christmas Eve. Harry and Louis have some friends coming by, and some totally normal birthday and Christmas plans. It’s a totally typical totally normal Christmas Eve. A fic that takes place over 24 (+1) hours where surely everything will go totally to plan.

🌲 Runaway Bride by IceQueenRia

(E, 22k, omegaverse) Suffering an injury while coming to the rescue of some of the kingdom’s orphans, Harry is welcomed into the castle and finds himself face-to-face with Prince Louis himself, praying that he won’t be recognised as a member of royalty.

🌲 Restlessness, Snowman Cookies, And A Realisation by Candy_Kittens / @candyfloss-kittens

(NR, 8k, omegaverse) While Louis, Liam, Niall, and Zayn take the kids out for a few hours to some Christmas fair, allowing Harry to have the house to himself for a bit, Harry decides to make some snowman themed Christmas cookies and some chocolate fudge for Louis in an attempt to ward off this odd restless and off feeling he’s been having lately.

🌲 I'll be happy, happy once again by Worldsofdreamers / @defences-down

(M, 7k, fake relationship) After being unceremoniously dumped, Louis has no choice but to go along with his best mates' plan to find a date for Lottie's party.

🌲 Day Eighteen: Elf by 28goldensfics / @28goldens

(E, 6k, fantasy) Harry gets much more than he bargained for when he decides to steal from Elven Lord Louis during his Christmas gala.

🌲 I Can Pull It Together by @louislittletomlintum

(E, 6k, body worship) the one where Harry accidentally discovers a new part of Louis he really, really loves.

🌲 There Is Just One Thing I Need by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(G, 5k, flight attendant Harry) Louis doesn’t want a lot for Christmas apart from getting home in time to see his family. Then, he meets Harry.

🌲 Shaking In The Shockwave by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k, phone sex) the one where Harry is still reeling and heartbroken after discovering his fiancé has been cheating on him. So in a moment of desperation, he decides to spend the weekend at a self-pleasure hotel. As it turns out, the gorgeous blue eyed man at the front desk is more than willing to help distract him

🌲 Let Me In One More Time by @homosociallyyours

(E, 3k, girl direction) At the last minute, Harry's mother springs a bunch of new guests on her for their Thanksgiving meal. When Harry hears that the eldest daughter, Louis, will arrive early to "help" she's not exactly pleased.

🌲 hear my belated regret by theankletattoo / @peachade

(E, 3k, omegaverse) they find love in each other on a vacation.

🌲 Honk by @allwaswell16

(M, 3k, soulmate goose) An omegaverse, soulmate goose fic for the holidays

🌲 Early Bird Gets The Worm by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(E, 2k, voyeurism) Harry uses his binoculars to watch the hot neighbor boy jerk off but it's not his fault really.

🌲 when you don't want coffee by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way

(T, 2k, coworkers) Two men who are too dumb to use their words but totally have crushes on each other. Featuring Niall as Captain of the ship ready to save it from sinking at any cost.

🌲 Zero Day by @haztobegood

(E, 1k, getting caught) Harry and Louis are thru-hikers on the PCT.

🌲 The Unselected Journals of Louis W. Tomlinson - Vol 1 by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 1k, epistolary) The Wandering of Things was not new, nearly two years into living here. However, the, uh, nature of this particular thing was quite different.

🌲 freaky friday by @tracksuitponytail

(E, 1k, body swap) It’s Friday the 13th—a day like any other for Louis until he wakes up in the middle of the night... in his best friend's body.

- Rare Pairs -

🌲 Welcome to My Candy Store by mmaree / @zqua1d

(E, 9k, Zayn/Liam) “This is no ordinary toffee apple,” the woman dressed as a witch tells them. “It's a magic wishing toffee apple.”

🌲 Couldn't miss this one this year by yourlionheartx / @djtommotomlinson

(G, 3k, Liam/Louis) All year Louis has been chasing this gorgeous guy he met at a ski shop. It’s Christmas and he’s decided it’s just time to let it go. He's spending Christmas on his own this year.

🌲 pumpkin spiced regret by @disgruntledkittenface

(M, 1k, Harry/Louis/Nick Grimshaw) You know what they say: If you can’t take the heat in the kitchen, masturbate in the guest bathroom.

[hookhausenschips]

Eternal Bonds: A Love Across Time {OP81}

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Summary: Every soul carries a unique mark—a tether invisible to the eye yet undeniable to the heart. Some call it destiny, others call it a cruel game played by time. For Y/N and Oscar, their connection defied the natural order, binding them across centuries. Each life they lived told a tale of love and loss, as if the universe itself conspired to keep them apart—until the present day, when their stories converged to finally bring closure to their enduring bond.

WC: 4.7k

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• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

---The Desert Sands of Ancient Egypt 

The sun blazed over Thebes, casting a golden hue over the Nile’s waters. Y/N, a skilled healer in service to Queen Nefertari, was known across the land for her unparalleled knowledge of herbs and remedies. Her beauty was equally renowned: her dark, coiled hair was adorned with gold beads that shimmered in the sunlight, and her rich, deep skin seemed to reflect the Nile’s brilliance. Her sharp mind and unwavering confidence made her a trusted confidant of the queen. 

One fateful day, Y/N was summoned to the palace to tend to a group of foreign warriors who had arrived as part of a diplomatic delegation. Among them was Oscar, a strikingly handsome emissary with piercing hazel eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of faraway lands. As Y/N wrapped a bandage around his wounded arm, she felt an inexplicable pull, as though she had known him before. 

Their conversations began with formal pleasantries, but soon evolved into deep exchanges about their homelands, their dreams, and the stars above. Oscar spoke of his people’s customs and the distant mountains he longed to show her. Y/N, in turn, shared tales of her childhood by the Nile, her ambitions to bring healing to those in need, and her admiration for the queen’s wisdom. 

The more they spoke, the more their connection deepened. But their love was fraught with obstacles. Y/N’s position as the queen’s healer demanded loyalty and discretion, while Oscar’s role as an emissary placed him under constant scrutiny. Still, they found ways to steal moments together, meeting in the cool shadows of the temple or under the cover of night by the riverbank. 

One evening, under a canopy of stars, Oscar took Y/N’s hand. “If fate were kinder, I would stay here with you forever,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. 

Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “And if the gods would grant me one wish, it would be to follow you to the ends of the earth.” 

Their clandestine meetings did not go unnoticed for long. A jealous courtier, seeking to curry favor with the queen, reported their forbidden bond. Summoned before Queen Nefertari, Y/N was confronted with a terrible choice: renounce her love for Oscar or face banishment from the palace. 

Before Y/N could answer, guards seized Oscar, accusing him of attempting to undermine the queen’s court. Despite Y/N’s pleas, the queen was resolute. “His presence here threatens the delicate balance of diplomacy. He must face the consequences.” 

Oscar was sentenced to death. On the night of his execution, Y/N fought her way to the prison, her cries echoing through the stone corridors. She reached him moments before the guards led him away. 

“I will find you again,” she whispered, clutching his hand through the iron bars. 

“In every lifetime,” Oscar replied, his voice steady despite the doom that awaited him. 

Y/N’s screams pierced the air as the blade fell, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces. Alone in the silent aftermath, she vowed to the gods that their love would not end here. Somewhere, sometime, they would be together again. 

--- The Gardens of Renaissance Florence 

Centuries passed before Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to the golden light of Florence, Italy. It was the age of the Renaissance, a time of rebirth, when art, science, and humanism flourished in gilded splendor. Y/N, now a gifted apprentice in a renowned atelier, found her days filled with the scent of linseed oil and the vibrant colors of crushed pigments. Her fingers danced across canvases, bringing life to the faces of Florence’s elite, including the illustrious Medici family, patrons of the arts and wielders of great power. 

Her skin, kissed by the Tuscan sun, was a rarity in these parts, an enigma that both inspired and unsettled. Though whispers followed her, her talent proved undeniable. Her frescoes adorned chapel walls, and her portraits captured souls in ways others could not. 

One fateful evening, Y/N attended a gala hosted at the Medici Palazzo, a shimmering bastion of wealth and influence. Draped in a gown of deep emerald, she moved through the gilded halls, her presence a quiet defiance to those who doubted her place. There, beneath the glimmer of Venetian chandeliers, she encountered a man whose presence struck her like a bolt of lightning. 

Oscar, now a charismatic inventor, stood surrounded by curious onlookers, his hands gesturing animatedly as he described his latest mechanical contraption. His features, softened by time but sharpened by experience, were strikingly familiar. When their eyes met, it was as though the air had been sucked from the room. Neither could explain the overwhelming pull between them, the ghost of a memory just out of reach. 

Their connection deepened quickly. Both driven by an insatiable hunger for creation, they spent hours in the Medici gardens, sketching designs for Oscar’s flying machines or perfecting Y/N’s portraits. Their late-night conversations, carried by the scent of orange blossoms and the rustle of cypress trees, drifted toward whispered secrets and dreams of a world where they might truly belong. 

Yet Florence, with all its beauty, held a darkness. The rigid social hierarchies were unforgiving, and Y/N, as a Black woman in this world, bore the brunt of its cruelty. The Medici patriarch, Lorenzo il Magnifico himself, grew suspicious of her influence over Oscar, whose inventions were beginning to garner both praise and envy. “Your liaison threatens our house,” Lorenzo warned one evening, his voice as cold as the marble statues that adorned the palazzo. “She is a distraction—a danger to everything we have built.” 

The lovers tried to navigate the rising tensions, but their bond, as fiery as it was forbidden, became impossible to hide. When whispers turned to outright scandal, the Medici family’s ire boiled over. An ultimatum was delivered: Y/N must leave Florence, or Oscar would face dire consequences. 

The decision was made. On a moonlit night, with shadows cloaking their movements, Y/N and Oscar prepared to flee to Venice, a city where they believed they might find refuge among its labyrinthine canals and the anonymity of the Serenissima. Their modest carriage, laden with only the essentials, creaked as it made its way out of the city, the sound blending with the soft trill of nocturnal birds. 

But Florence’s grip proved relentless. Just beyond the city’s gates, as their carriage descended into a wooded ravine, the clatter of hoofbeats shattered the stillness. A group of masked men, sent by the Medici, emerged from the shadows, swords drawn. The ambush was swift and brutal. 

Oscar leaped to defend Y/N, using his cane as a makeshift weapon, but they were outnumbered. Y/N, with the same fierce determination that fueled her art, grabbed a dagger concealed in her belongings and fought alongside him. Amid the chaos, one of the attackers lunged toward Oscar, his blade aimed for his chest. 

“NO!” Y/N’s scream tore through the night as she thrust herself between them, the steel sinking into her flesh. Time seemed to freeze as she fell into Oscar’s arms, her blood staining his hands as red as the poppies that bloomed in the fields they had once dreamed of escaping to. 

“Y/N, stay with me,” Oscar pleaded, his voice cracking. “Please, stay.” 

Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her eyes searching his. “Oscar,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. “Do not let this end us. Promise me you will create a world where love like ours is no longer a crime.” 

Tears streamed down his face as he clutched her, the warmth of her life slipping away. The attackers, seeing their task complete, melted back into the shadows, leaving Oscar alone with his grief. 

As the first rays of dawn painted the sky, Oscar buried his face in Y/N’s hair, his soul fractured. Her words echoed in his mind—a plea for a future he vowed to realize. 

In the days that followed, whispers of Y/N’s death spread through Florence. To those who had known her only as an artist, her loss was merely a passing tragedy. But to Oscar, it was the loss of a part of himself, a wound that no time or invention could ever mend. Her memory became his muse, her sacrifice the fuel for his creations, each one imbued with the hope that love could transcend even the cruelest barriers. 

And though the Medici gardens bloomed with the beauty of the Renaissance, for Oscar, they would forever bear the shadow of the night he lost her—the woman who had been the light of his life. 

-- The Battlefields of World War I 

The year was 1917, and Europe was engulfed in the Great War. The Western Front stretched like a festering wound across the continent, a no-man’s land of mud, barbed wire, and death. The air carried the acrid stench of gunpowder and the low, ceaseless rumble of artillery fire. Against this grim backdrop, Y/N worked as a nurse with the Voluntary Aid Detachment, tending to the unending tide of broken men sent back from the front lines. 

Her hands, though steady and skilled, were perpetually stained with blood. Day and night, she moved between cots in the crowded field hospital, her soft voice a balm to the suffering and her touch a small mercy in a world gone mad. She was a woman of extraordinary resilience, her presence in the midst of chaos a testament to the enduring human spirit. Yet the horrors she witnessed weighed heavily on her, seeping into her dreams and stealing moments of quiet. 

One cold, rain-soaked afternoon, as Y/N wrapped a fresh bandage around a soldier’s mangled arm, the doors of the hospital swung open. A stretcher was hurriedly carried in, the figure upon it groaning softly. The soldier was young, his face pale beneath the dirt and streaks of dried blood. His left arm hung at an awkward angle, and shrapnel wounds marred his chest. The tag pinned to his uniform read: Lieutenant Oscar Piastri, Australian Flying Corps. 

Y/N felt an unexplainable jolt as her eyes met his for the first time. Though his features were unfamiliar, something about him stirred a memory buried deep within her soul. She shook off the sensation and focused on her task, instructing the orderlies to prepare a clean cot for the new patient. 

Oscar was delirious with pain as she worked to clean his wounds, but even through the haze, he managed a faint smile. “An angel, come to save me,” he murmured, his accent thick with the drawl of the Australian outback. 

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle softly, despite the grim circumstances. “Hardly an angel, Lieutenant,” she replied, her voice firm yet kind. “Just a nurse doing her duty.” 

Over the weeks that followed, as Oscar’s injuries slowly healed, he became a fixture in the ward. Unlike many of the soldiers, whose spirits were crushed by the horrors they had endured, Oscar exuded a disarming optimism. He joked with the other patients, shared stories of his childhood in Australia, and helped boost the morale of the weary nurses. 

For Y/N, his presence became a source of unexpected solace. Though she maintained a professional demeanor, she found herself lingering at his bedside after her rounds were complete, drawn in by his charm and wit. They spoke of everything—his dreams of flying after the war, her aspirations to study medicine, and the lives they had left behind. Each conversation felt like a reprieve from the darkness of the world around them. 

One evening, as the sound of distant shelling reverberated through the camp, Oscar confided in her. “It’s strange,” he said, staring at the ceiling of the canvas tent. “I’ve seen death more times than I can count. But meeting you feels like a second chance at life.” 

Y/N, taken aback by his candor, looked away, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. “This war takes so much from us,” she whispered. “I suppose it’s only natural to cling to whatever light we can find.” 

Their bond deepened with each passing day. In stolen moments, when the ward was quiet, they walked together outside the hospital, breathing in the crisp air and finding comfort in each other’s presence. They laughed, shared dreams, and even dared to imagine a future beyond the war. 

But the war was relentless, and its shadow loomed over them. As Oscar regained his strength, he was cleared to return to active duty. The news came as a blow to Y/N, though she tried to hide her despair. “You’re needed here,” she said softly one evening as they sat on a low wall overlooking the makeshift hospital. 

Oscar placed a hand over hers, his gaze steady. “And you’re needed here too,” he replied. “But we have to do what’s right, Y/N. I have to go back up there. For my mates. For all of us.” 

Their goodbye was bittersweet. Y/N gave him a small pendant, a simple token she had carried with her for years. “For luck,” she said, her voice trembling. “Promise me you’ll come back.” 

“I promise,” he said, pressing the pendant to his lips before tucking it into his jacket. “No matter what happens, I’ll find you again.” 

For weeks, life at the hospital continued as usual, though Y/N’s heart ached with worry. Letters from Oscar arrived sporadically, each one a lifeline in the midst of the unrelenting chaos. He described the thrill of flying, the camaraderie among his squadron, and his longing to see her again. 

Then, one fateful day, the news came. A bombing raid had gone disastrously wrong. Oscar’s squadron had been ambushed by enemy fighters, and his plane had been shot down behind enemy lines. The official report listed him as missing, presumed dead. 

The words hit Y/N like a physical blow. She staggered, her knees buckling as she clutched the telegram. Her mind refused to accept the reality, clinging to the hope that perhaps, somehow, he had survived. But days turned into weeks, and no further news arrived. 

Y/N threw herself into her work with a ferocity that bordered on desperation. She tended to the wounded with unwavering dedication, but her laughter was gone, replaced by a quiet grief that weighed heavily on her shoulders. At night, when the ward fell silent, she sat alone beneath the stars, clutching the small pendant she had given Oscar, now returned to her among his personal effects. 

“Once again, fate has stolen you from me,” she murmured to the void, her tears falling freely. “But I will find you, Oscar. In this life or the next, I will find you.” 

The war raged on, but for Y/N, the battle had become deeply personal. The love she had found amidst the carnage had been snatched away, leaving her with only memories and the unshakable conviction that their souls were destined to reunite. 

-- 1980's Mafia Battles 

The neon lights of the city flickered against the thick fog of cigarette smoke that hung in the dimly lit streets. New York, in the 1980s, was a landscape painted in shadows and chaos, where power was bought and sold on every corner. Beneath the glittering skyline, the streets thrummed with danger, alive with the silent wars of the Five Families—the Gambinos, Genovese, Luccheses, Bonanno, and Colombos. It was a world of whispered betrayals, blood-stained deals, and shifting alliances. The city wasn’t merely a backdrop; it was a battlefield, where power was currency and loyalty was fleeting. 

The city pulsed with a heartbeat that echoed in the alleyways and the boardrooms, where the mafia families of the city ruled with a quiet, deadly force. Oscar Piastri had learned early in life that love was a commodity that could be bartered for power—or destroyed when it was inconvenient. 

Oscar Piastri was born into this crucible, a scion of the Gambino family and nephew to the infamous John Gotti, the "Dapper Don." Gotti’s rise to power had reshaped the family, bringing both prosperity and chaos. As his protégé, Oscar was groomed for greatness, expected to embody the ruthless cunning that defined their legacy. From a young age, Oscar had learned the rules of survival: be ruthless, be calculating, and above all, trust no one. Yet, for all his uncle’s lessons, nothing could prepare him for the storm that would upend his carefully ordered life. 

She was that storm: Y/N, a woman of elegance and enigma, a deadly agent of the Genovese family. Her name carried weight in whispers, a shadow within shadows. The Genovese were known for their subtlety, their long games of manipulation, and Y/N was no exception. Her dark eyes held secrets, her presence commanded respect, and her beauty was a weapon as sharp as any blade. The tensions between their families simmered just below the surface, but it was her arrival that would ignite an inferno. 

The Silver Dagger was a sanctuary of sin. A nightclub where the walls had ears, but the patrons didn’t care. Under the glow of neon lights, it was a place where alliances were forged and broken, where power whispered promises under the cover of music and laughter. That night, Oscar stood at the bar, his drink in hand, his mind elsewhere. Until he saw her. 

Y/N was magnetic, her presence drawing every eye in the room, but it was Oscar’s gaze that lingered. Her confidence was unshakable, her every step deliberate. She moved through the crowd as if she owned it, and perhaps she did. When their eyes met, the air seemed to crackle, the world narrowing to just the two of them. 

He knew who she was. He’d heard the stories, the warnings. Yet, he couldn’t look away. And when she approached him, it was as though fate had taken control. 

“Oscar Piastri,” she said, her voice a blend of silk and steel. “The Golden Boy of the Gambino family. I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

He raised his glass, his smirk masking the storm inside. “And you must be Y/N. The Genovese family’s finest. Should I be flattered, or concerned?” 

Her lips curved into a dangerous smile. “A little of both, perhaps.” 

Their words were a dance, a sparring match veiled in civility. Each knew the stakes; each felt the pull. The world around them blurred, the music and chatter fading into the background. This was no ordinary meeting. It was the beginning of something neither could escape. 

For weeks, they met in secret. Abandoned warehouses, dimly lit corners of neutral territories, stolen moments in a world that would destroy them if it knew. Their connection was electric, a forbidden bond that defied logic and loyalty. Yet, as their love grew, so did the danger. 

It was a betrayal from within that shattered their fragile world. A mole in the Gambino ranks leaked their secret to the Genovese family, and Vincent “Chin” Gigante seized the opportunity. For the Genovese, it was a chance to assert dominance; for John Gotti and Carlo Piastri, it was an unforgivable insult. The stage was set for a reckoning. 

Oscar and Y/N’s final meeting was under a blood-red sky, the city bracing for the storm to come. They knew what awaited them, yet they clung to hope, however fleeting. 

“This isn’t the end,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. “Promise me, Oscar. Promise you’ll find me.” 

His hand tightened around hers, his heart breaking. “I promise. In every lifetime, I’ll find you.” 

The ambush came swiftly, a symphony of violence orchestrated with ruthless precision. Y/N was lured to a meeting with promises of a truce, but it was a lie—a trap designed to send a message. The Genovese hit squad surrounded her in a desolate warehouse, their guns raised, their faces cold and unforgiving. She fought like a lioness, her skill and determination unmatched, taking down three of her attackers before a shot struck her shoulder, then her leg. She fell to her knees, her breath ragged, yet her eyes burned with defiance. 

When Oscar arrived, the scene was chaos. Bodies littered the floor, blood pooling beneath them. And then he saw her. Y/N lay against a shattered crate, her once-bright eyes dimming, her breaths shallow. He rushed to her side, his hands trembling as he cradled her broken form. 

“Oscar...” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. Her blood-stained hand reached for his face, her touch feather-light. “Don’t... don’t let them win.” 

Tears streamed down his face as he held her close. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make this right, I swear.” 

A faint smile touched her lips, bittersweet and fleeting. “Find me. No matter how long it takes.” 

Her hand fell away, her body going still. Oscar’s anguished cry echoed through the empty warehouse, a sound of heartbreak and fury that could silence even the most hardened soul. 

In the days that followed, Oscar became a ghost of himself. His love had been ripped away, his world shattered. John Gotti’s fury was unrelenting; vengeance became the family’s rallying cry. But for Oscar, the fire of revenge was tempered by a deeper promise. The vow he made burned within him, a beacon in the void. Their love had defied the odds, and he knew, with every fiber of his being, that it wasn’t the end. 

“I will find you,” he swore, staring into the city’s endless horizon. “No matter how many lifetimes it takes.” 

And so, Oscar Piastri began his journey, a man burdened by fate, driven by love, and haunted by the ghost of Y/N. The world may have torn them apart, but he would defy it again and again, until they found their way back to each other. 

-- Present Day 

Y/N stood on the balcony of her sleek apartment in London, the city skyline sprawling before her. The shimmering lights of the city danced on the surface of the Thames, casting a soft glow that mirrored her contemplative mood. As an accomplished sports journalist, Y/N had spent years chasing stories that brought the adrenaline of the racetrack to life for millions of readers. Her life was a whirlwind of high-stakes interviews, international travel, and deadline pressures. Yet tonight, the quiet hum of the city brought an unexpected stillness. She swirled a glass of wine in her hand, her mind drifting to the unshakable feeling that something was missing, though she couldn’t quite define what it was. 

Meanwhile, across the city, Oscar Piastri was stepping out of McLaren’s state-of-the-art headquarters, the faint scent of rubber and motor oil lingering in the cool night air. His rookie season with McLaren alongside Lando Norris had been a rollercoaster of triumphs and challenges, and every day was a testament to the grueling yet exhilarating nature of Formula 1. He loved the sport—the speed, the precision, the electrifying rush of crossing the finish line. But even amid the chaos of his dream career, a quiet void gnawed at him, as though something vital was just out of reach. 

Their paths crossed on a crisp autumn evening at a charity gala hosted by McLaren. Y/N had been invited to cover the event, her editor insisting on a feature that would capture the human side of the racing world. She arrived dressed in an elegant black gown, her professional demeanor cloaking the nervous excitement she always felt before mingling with the elite. The room buzzed with energy, the air heavy with the mingling scents of champagne and expensive cologne. 

Oscar had reluctantly agreed to attend, his team’s PR insisting it was good for his image. He stood near the bar, nursing a sparkling water, his sharp tuxedo doing little to mask the restless energy that came from being off the track. He scanned the crowd absently until his gaze landed on Y/N. Something about her—the confident way she moved, the glimmer of determination in her eyes—drew his attention. It wasn’t just her beauty; it was the inexplicable pull, as though he’d known her forever. 

“Excuse me, are you Y/N Y/L/N?” he asked, his Australian accent warm and unmistakable as he approached her. She turned, startled by the familiarity in his tone, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, the world seemed to still. 

“Yes, I am. And you’re… Oscar Piastri?” she replied, her voice steady despite the sudden flutter in her chest. 

He offered a charming grin. “Guilty as charged. I’ve read some of your work. You’re quite good at what you do.” 

“Thank you,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve been following your season. You’re quite the rising star.” 

“I’ve had a lot of help,” he admitted with a modest shrug. “But enough about me. What’s it like covering the madness of motorsport?” 

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, like two old friends catching up after years apart. They talked about the pressures of their careers, the sacrifices, and the shared love for the thrill of racing. By the end of the night, they had exchanged numbers, the connection between them undeniable. 

What began as polite texts turned into late-night phone calls. Y/N found herself looking forward to their conversations, drawn to the sincerity beneath Oscar’s confident exterior. Oscar, in turn, was captivated by Y/N’s sharp wit and unshakable determination. They began meeting up during race weekends, the line between professional and personal blurring with each passing day. 

But with their growing closeness came something else—strange and vivid dreams. Y/N began waking in the middle of the night, her heart racing from visions of sun-drenched deserts, the scent of ancient temples filling her senses. Oscar, too, found himself haunted by fleeting images of Florence’s cobblestone streets and the metallic tang of war. At first, they didn’t speak about it, each afraid of sounding ridiculous. But the memories became impossible to ignore. 

One evening, as they sat together on the balcony of Y/N’s apartment, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the Thames, Y/N finally broke the silence. 

“Oscar, have you ever had dreams that feel… too real to be dreams?” she asked hesitantly, her gaze fixed on the horizon. 

His hand found hers, his touch grounding her. “I have. They’re about us, aren’t they?” 

She turned to him, tears pooling in her eyes. “Yes. It’s like we’ve lived a thousand lives together. And I’m just now remembering.” 

As they spoke, fragments of their shared past began to surface. They remembered the deserts of Egypt, where they were torn apart by war. They spoke of the gardens of Florence, where stolen moments of bliss had ended in heartbreak. They relived the trenches, the despair of separation, and the hope that somehow, they’d find each other again. Each memory collided with the present, overwhelming yet bringing clarity. 

Through tears and laughter, they pieced together their history, their voices trembling with emotion. “This time,” Oscar vowed, his voice thick with resolve, “I’m not letting anything come between us.” 

Y/N leaned into him, her heart swelling with a love that spanned millennia. “We’ve been through so much. Maybe now, finally, we can have our forever.” 

As the last rays of sunlight faded, Y/N turned to Oscar, her voice barely above a whisper. “But what if we lose it again?” 

Oscar’s eyes searched hers, filled with a bittersweet ache. He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Even if we do, we’ll find each other again. We always do.” 

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their shared past. Slowly, he leaned in, and their lips met in a kiss that felt both like a beginning and an ending—a tender, desperate promise to fight for the love that had been tested time and time again. It was a kiss filled with the sorrow of their losses, the hope of their reunion, and the unshakable truth that their souls were forever intertwined. 

When they finally pulled apart, the night seemed quieter, the city lights softer. Y/N rested her forehead against his, her tears mingling with a bittersweet smile. “Maybe this time, we can finally get it right.” 

Oscar nodded, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. “We will. One lifetime at a time.” 

As the moon rose high above the Thames, the universe seemed to exhale, watching as these two souls, bound by an unbreakable bond, stood on the precipice of a love that had transcended lifetimes. And for the first time in countless reincarnations, they chose to face the uncertain future together, their hearts full of hope and the bittersweet knowledge of what they had endured to get here. 

OP81 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @fadingcloudballoon-blog, @hinamesgigantica, @01rrdbull, @anamiad00msday

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @mellowluka, @omgsuperstarg, @qxeenjen, @same1995, @hinamesgigantica, @fadingcloudballoon-blog, @laptime-deleted, @anamiad00msday

[creature-wizard]

Any ideas about how to respond to people who are “anti-cult” but in a shitty/sexist way?

Context: I’m a (queer) leftist Christian whose denomination is progressive, but have a couple friends who are queerstakes (queer Mormons in community w each other bc the mainstream church is homo/transphobic) & 1 queer lefty Catholic. We’ve all encountered, but them more so, people who want to “save us” from religion in some way.

For me it’s mostly the type of Nü Atheist/antitheist extremist who I can laugh off easily because they’re arguing against a version of ‘my church’ that I’m not in, but especially my Mormon friends will have a harder time because (as with Catholicism) their congregations really are kind of safe-haven offshoots of far-more-conservative traditions, whereas I actually have a synod/denominations/bishops to back me up. But a thing that comes up repeatedly especially for the Mormons is “You’re in a cult”, and with both the language of “You THINK you like it and you THINK you’re happy, but you’re so brainwashed that you don’t know your own mind, you have no agency, and if you just abandoned your (hard-fought for, safe-haven) religious community you’d become Normal, you’ll see!!”

Now. This really rubs all of us the wrong way as a group of queer people who are mostly women. “You can’t trust yourself, you’re incapable of logic, you don’t know how to think for yourself, you have no agency or desires of your own” comes off sexist as all Hell, and appeals to “Try being like everyone else, it’ll make you normal” call to mind religious conservatives who call you back to the fold or push conversion therapy on you. It feels like this is itself trying to deny them agency to make their own choices.

But people (online, or in person in college mainly) never believe the beliefs are genuine or that they’ll ever be safe even among other queer people and progressives.

So I guess the question is… how do you convince someone you don’t need deprogramming when you come from a tradition which is, overarchingly, a lot more high-control to the point that I get why when people say “Mormonism is a cult” etc. When you’re religiously-observant but treated as apostate by a lot of people. Etc.

Any thoughts on ways to respond or explain? Or should they just disregard it because of the bad attitude involved?

I'm not really sure. I think many ex-Christians are channeling their own traumas with Christianity into these conversations, which means they aren't really in a good headspace to be reasoned with.

Maybe it could be useful to start a conversation about how their behavior is Christian missionary behavior in a new hat, and ask them why they think they're going to get a positive response to a type of behavior that they themselves would find incredibly obnoxious. But, I can't guarantee it would work.

[impala124]

Bad Buddy Ep 6

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5

Me, at the end of this episode:

Something about the way Pran buttoned his shirt all the way up to the collar, like it's suffocating for him to share space with Pat for the first time since their rooftop kiss, is making me unwell.

Why is Pat's father on my screen? I do not like that man. He makes Pran uncomfortable and I can't allow that. Why does Pran make himself look small when interacting with Pat's dad? Is it just his way of showing respect for an elder or is there something more?

"We know how it's going to end; isn't it better not to start at all?" Pran, bestie, are we still talking about music here? It hasn't escaped me that Pran is leaving the guitar with Wai after Pat kept it with him for 3 years before returning it to Pran. I just hope Pat doesn't find out about this.

Now, What is Pran's mom deal? You're on a timeout along with Pat's dad. Go sit in the corner for a while.

Pa is a child of (PatPran's) divorce at this point. She has to put up with Pat wreaking havoc in his room with the drums.

Pa out her assuming that everyone likes Ink because she likes her. Understandable, bestie, but you're way off in this case.

Pat following Pran to the architecture faculty volunteer camp strengthens my belief that Pat is just a lost puppy following Pran around.

The irony of Pran ignoring Pat by using the earphones that Pat gave him isn't lost on me.

Pran hasn't counted on Pat's pesky persistence. I'm cheering you on, Pat; make Pran go off-kilter.

Now, let's all thank Uncle Tong for coming up with these activities at a volunteer camp and divine intervention for actually pairing them together.

PAT USED HIS HAND TO PROTECT PRAN'S HEAD FROM THE FALL.

Wai is officially on my shit list. Why is he being so damn possessive of Pran? Pran can make his own choices, and if he weren't comfortable with Pat lying on him, I can't imagine why he wouldn't be, he can take care of himself.

Pat, bestie, I love how brazen you are, and I appreciate it.

Pran saying, "Someone like him will quit bothering us when he has had enough," in relation to Pat, and Pat coming with a chair to settle between Pran and Wai is just too fucking funny.

Now, Pran is being the physical embodiment of "My having feelings for you has nothing to do with you. Don't talk to me."

Pat is using the child, Junior, as their unofficial couple's counselor.

So, the trip to the market counts as a date, right? Glad we agree on that. Even the vendor thinks that they look cute together.

PLAYING IN THE WATER TOGETHER!!! This episode is a gift that keeps on giving. The conversation by the beach.

Okay, but what did Pat do to have Pran transferred from the school? I get his anger at his mom, but what did Pat do other than be a part of the band?

I love how, although there isn't any direct mention of homophobia (yet) in the show, their (familial & faculty) rivalry, that they didn't ask for but was imposed on them, feels like an allegory for it.

Without people around, I can sit next to you just fine. But when there's other people, talking to you feels like amatter of life and death. What can we do? We were just born this way.

OMG. Their hands touched, and Pran didn't pull away!!!!

I'm not even mad about the product placements, and that's how you know the show got me hooked.

Wai and Pat sharing a room will be interesting for sure. I don't trust him, though; he looks like he's planning to hurt my boy.

I love how Pat has zero chill, just bulldozing his way to Pran.

Wai, you fucking asshole, who do you think you are?? Pran, save your man!!!

And he does. Pran's on-the-spot lore cooking skills need to be taught in school. It's a survival skill if I'm being honest. He wasn't lying, though. His first love did fall in love. WITH HIM.

Pat CAUGHT Pran's hand and stopped him from leaving. ASFFGHDGJ—

Oh, nothing to see here, just a pair of lying liars sitting by the beach and lying to each other.

Pat's face lit up like a Christmas tree when he heard Pran say It is so obvious that you like me.

Gotta love Pat's tenacity and how he maneuvered Pran into being the recipient of his flirting.

Everything's gotta be a competition with these two. However, in this scenario, both of them are going to win and have fun along the way.

Let the (flirting) games begin!!!

Pran's definition of flirting is licking Pat's finger. SIT WITH THAT INFORMATION!! Pran, my beloved, you are a fucking menace for pulling the big guns out this early in the game!!

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou. If anyone wishes to be tagged in the future, let me know.