#^ if anyone was wondering i have anon asks turned off for my blogs

[conjectureand-gloom]

I'm just saying the truth, calm down 🤷‍♀️

okay lmao, you do you <33

[shuenkio]

Brought the heat back | PsH. 💥

Paring: Sunghoon x M!reader | Genre: SMUT

Synopsis: Arrange married Park Sunghoon who you had never seen since birth, finally took a turn when he realized you're the one.

Cw: explicit scenes, cursing, cumming inside, moaning, whimpering etc (read at your own risk)

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A&N: from ANON request. I'm super sure there'd be awkward parts because I'm stressed out to write a perfect smut but might fail... Nvm enjoy reading. Smut below cut ✓

Enjoy your life at peace eat, drink, work, and sleep. Cycle this routine as life goes on. Until a man who is not your dream shows up. Since his parents and yours used to be hardcore bff when they were young, they wanted to tie the bond together by arranging a forced marriage between Sunghoon Park and M/N.

Disagree to this arrangement would be useless; why on earth would your parents befriend the gangster group out of everyone else? Which makes it worse if you don't want to be married to a man you have never met.

Along with your future groom, maybe at least you expected that he would be a gentleman, is a green flag, have a nice attitude, know what's right or wrong, be mature, talkative, or so on, yet none of these can be seen in him. All Sunghoon had was a face, a body, and a dead-looking, cold face.

He was an ice prince, for real. So on the day both guardians confirmed this ceremony, you couldn't help but wonder: What did you do to deserve all of this? A future husband who couldn't fit your standards—a future husband you didn't even know and love before. What would the tension between this unfold? Just sigh and let it be; better shut up or be breathless.

Later on, after the big party, Sunghoon and M/N were freshly married. Nothing special happened, not even a spare word for each other, any eye contact, especially Park Sunghoon, what's do you expect? All you got on your night together was,

"I don't like you, m/n—don't get your hope up just because we're married; now remember your place,"

and that was the last thing you've heard him say, and it's the most hurtful thing you've ever experienced. Then why? A month had passed since we were married, and you had noticed that Sunghoon's behavior had slightly changed from before.

He has a hot temper whenever you're on the phone with anyone, having a nice conversation with the neighbors, or interacting with anyone passing by when going out, and he can't seem to calm down. Sunghoon himself didn't even know why he felt this way; he said he hated you, but why would he be jealous of somebody else other than him? However, he didn't care if you'd bring up those events when he said those words.

All he knows is that he realizes that nobody else cares about him more than you. M/N, as Sunghoon's husband. Never been a lazy househusband; whatever the tension of hatred is, you still make him eat three times a day. Doing all the shit in the house as if you're the one who brought it. When he was sick, you were never afraid to ask him what's up and how he feels. And that's when he knows that you're the one.

Either you love him or not, he's going to repay you and make you love him back. Who cares right now if you love him or not, because once you're in here, you can't leave in anyway? Coming home after a late-night date, Sunghoon's is full of all the memories and contact you had with the waitress earlier at the restaurant. You were a little too sweet toward those guys. as a result of making him unable to hold back his possessions and jealousy any more. Sunghoon needs to mark you as his own; it's now or never that you are his property only. The eyes contact; ugh, he can't seem to stop the burning sensation inside his brain.

Without further ado, once m/n settles in the bedroom, Sunghoon quickly locks the door slam with one click, and all the windows shut off from the remote. Starlet, by the sudden, you ask him nervously; a look could kill a person's presence on Sunghoon's face. It was dark; if his eyes could glow, it'd be lava red in irritated. Yet he didn't respond with anything. He ripped off his top and threw them away before buckled his belt, prepared to do something to his desire.

You know that you'd be a food to his Hungary by this midnight, all fabric on the floor. What's that mean? Well,  he's probably doing what most couples do; actually, he's going to fuck and drive you nuts. Gulping down a hard lamp in your throat, too scared to run away, too scared to say no, but there's a small part in you that screams you have to let him be; there's must be something underneath after all of this. When you open up for him, exhale what's coming for you. In one motion, both of you and his underwear are nowhere to be seen.

You always wonder, as a boy, what the dick would look like for the hot guy. It is long, small, curved, or what? Yes, Sunghoon was there to unveil that; his cock was gorgeous, he had big, huge ass balls, and the shaft was paler than his skin. His tip is faded pink, and well, the best part is that he's uncut. He doesn't like getting his skin chopped off anyway. Seeing you gone speechless by the view he was giving, only to boost his desire even better, no warning alert, your two legs are thrown across on his shoulder, while his cock is in the position of your small hole.

The atmosphere changes in an instant; the dark, empty bedroom is filled with a burning spark. Neither you nor him had any experience, but let's say Sunghoon has been trained for a while now, probably most of his alone time, to know and do what could drive you to your begging stage.

"S-sunghoon, I know it's not wrong, but... You're too huge for me."

"I don't give a damn, m/n, endure it. I'm yours, husband, isn't it? You can't say otherwise!" Distracted by his words, you were surprised at the contact of his cock buried inside you, thrusting in unexpectedly. The enormous hard cock of his indeed spread your ass into two, resulting in your cries out with pleasure.

Seeing you still adjusting to his size, Sunghoon trailed down his lip, brushing softly against yours. The kiss is mixed with love and jealousy of his; he can't stop it now to breed you and mark you as his own. He was eager to tell the world you were his only. Sinking into Sunghoon's touch, you slowly and finally adjust to his huge cock. Once he knew you were ready, his demonic power took over him as he began to push his hip to the deepest part he could ever go in one thrust. The sudden sensation drizzled you as you whimpered out loud shamelessly. Meanwhile, Sunghoon also had the same feeling; his body shuddered into pieces when he moved his own hip up and down.

All those sex toys are nothing compared to your tight entrance, which is clenching so hard and tight of his cock at the moment. He is groaning so good; it was heavenly pleasurable. It's going on for another couple of poundings until Sunghoon gets a sign he'll explode anytime soon. Clearly, you are unprepared but have to be without it. As both of his large arms encircle your waist, the wet kisses continue harder than his tongue licking over all your lips and intertwined in your mouth. Chasing that climax, which is what you're aiming for too,

"M/n, I'm fucking coming; I'm coming; I'm —" desperately, he breaks the kisses, and in one last grind, he comes undone inside of you. The massive load filled you like a cum dump, squirting out all of his orgasms and shivering with all the nerves. Enough with him cumming out; you're soon finding your dick twitches, following his orgasm as it squirted, and shooting out the hot white liquids too.

With your eyes flying up facing the ceiling, you endure the pleasure, sucking in a sharp breath. You were almost passed out with just one round, your chest heaving nonstop while Sunghoon was already recovering a while ago. M/N just feels too good to fuck, and he won't stop till he is satisfied.

"M/n! Don't test me from now on; I realized that you're nobody but someone who still puts up with me even if I'm a bad husband. I'm going to love you like no one else can, and if you ever smile at somebody else than me, I promise I'll bring the heat back." 

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ CRD TO ALL THE OWNERS.

[monzabee]

baby honey – al12

masterlist

Summary: The one where Arthur swears he’s not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.

Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, unreciprocated feelings (that turn into reciprocated feelings), hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, being drunk, idiots to lovers, denial is a river in egypt, charles and his big brain, miscommunication, mentions of drunk driving (don’t drink and drive!), jealousy jealousy, cying, google translate French!

Request: “after reading ur newest cl16 fic i want one where reader always liked charles but he gets a gf and she ends up with arthur (who’s her bff?? bffs to lovers 🤔) just a lot of hurt comfort��� + “Hi! Can I please request ballerina!reader with either Charles or Arthur, you can choose to write it or do it as a smau, thank you!” + “can you please write something with Arthur + size/height difference?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it is time for the debut of arthur my beloved on this blog. i LOVED all of the requests for this one! i was originally going to name this fic after another taylor song (wink, wink), but then i was listening to baby honey by harry styles and something just clicked, so i hope you guys also agree with me. if anyone is wondering, this is an unreleased song from his first self-titled album. i know the request was a bit different, with reader having feelings for charles first, but i think changing it a little bit and having miscommunication made it a bit deeper. so thank you, anons, for these requests, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Arthur has a problem when it comes to you – and that is not being able to say the word ‘no’. This has put him in some very interesting positions in the past, but whatever happens, it just seems that Arthur is not able to mutter out the word ‘no’ when you ask him of something. It’s always been that way, he supposes. He was never able to deny you when you looked at him with the look in your eyes, and he still can’t to this day. When you call him to ask if he wants to come to a party with you? He’s out the door before you tell him the location. When you suddenly have the urge to watch Barbie movies from your childhood? He brings the popcorn and even sings along to some of the songs he knows the words to. You were there for every one of his races before he got the opportunity to travel around the world to drive on the same tracks his brother and even the legends in the sports did. He came to every one of your ballet recitals until you graduated, and he was kind enough to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers each time. Although this might be the situation, the relationship you and Arthur have are based on equal grounds – meaning that you love and adore him just as he does you. It’s one of relationships you value the most in your life, the two of you having each other’s back since a very young age, and it is a relationship that you don’t ever want to lose. So, when the time came for both of you to move out of your parents’ houses, it came as no surprise for anyone that you two decided to move in together. Arthur wanted to spend his free time, when he wasn’t racing, with you as much as possible, and you were just happy to be with your best friend. 

Though he’s always been protective over you and it is nothing new, Arthur can’t help but worry every time you go out on a date with a new guy. In reality, he knows you and Patrick have been going out for a while. You’ve told him about Patrick a few times when you called him when he was away for races, and he’s met the guy, but there’s a feeling he just can’t seem to shake off. 

“Are you sure you want to go on this date?” Arthur asks behind the door to your bedroom. 

You groan when the earring you’re trying to get stuck in your hair. “For the millionth time, Arthur, I’m sure.” You check yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your handbag and opening you door to come face to face with a worried face. “Why are you so stressed over this?” You ask him, rummaging through the handbag in your hand to find your lipstick. 

“I’m not stressed, poupette.” doll. Arthur scoffs, watching you with a stern look on your face. “I’m just making sure you’re feeling up to going out tonight.” 

“I’m feeling fine, ma moitié, my other half, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure him with a sweet smile on your face while playfully patting his chest. “Stop acting like this, you look like your mother.” 

“Fine, then, you look like my mother.” You shrug as Arthur rolls his eyes. Loud cackles coming from the living room suddenly grabs both of your attention, making you smile even wider. “Lorenzo, Charles, hi!” 

The two brothers sitting in your living room gives you bright smiles and Hellos. Charles gives you a glance, eyebrows raised as he asks, “Aren’t you going to be cold without a jacket?” 

“You’re not taking a jacket?” A voice exclaims from behind, making you roll your eyes as you point towards Arthur with the tilt of your head. 

“You happy?” You ask while raising your eyebrows. “A jacket doesn’t go with my dress.” You explain, expectantly looking at the older driver as you open your arms and pointing to the dress. 

“Uh, sure, Y/N.” Charles nods in thought. 

Lorenzo hits the back of his brother’s head lightly, shaking his head towards him as he speaks to you. “I think you look lovely, have a good night.” 

“Thank you, Enzo!” You beam, walking towards the front door as you yell. “Arthur I’m leaving, don’t wait up!” At the mention of his name, Arthur comes running towards the front door, reminding you that you can call him at any point during the night if you feel uncomfortable, which in return you assure him you’ll be fine and leave after giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

He sighs deeply as he watches you leave the apartment, and only realises both of his brothers watching him with funny expressions after he closes the door and turns back with the jacket still in his hands. “What?”

“So,” Charles begins when all three of them are sitting on the couch in your living room, getting ready to play a round of FIFA. “How long have you been crushing on Y/N, again?” 

Arthur groans, his face contorting up in a grimace. “Not this again, Charles.” 

“No, he has a point.” Lorenzo mumbles, siding with his brother. “You’ve had a crush on her since you were seven, Arthur.” 

“Exactly!” Charles exclaims, pointing to Arthur excitedly. “Why haven’t you done something about it yet?” 

“Because she is my best friend, you idiots.” Arthur shakes his head, choosing to focus on the game which just started on the screen instead of insistent look Charles and Lorenzo give him. “And, stop saying I have a crush on her.” 

Charles lets out a disapproving sound as he, too, turns towards the game. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.” 

“We look each other normally.” 

“You look like you want to make love to her every time you look at her.” Charles shrugs, making both his older and younger brother turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces. 

“Charles!” Arthur complains. “No!”

“Please don’t ever use the words 'make love' in the same sentence as Arthur and Y/N.” Lorenzo begs, grabbing the bridge of his nose.  

“Fine.” Charles shrugs, as he takes the opportunity to shoot his first goal. “But you can’t deny the fact that your overprotectiveness over Y/N doesn’t stem from your feelings for her. You’ve always been that way and it’s impossible for you to not feel something more for her.” 

Arthur frowns, not because he is losing by the third minute of the game, but because of Charles’ words. “We’ve been friends since we were babies, Charles, of course I’m protective over her.” 

“Which is understandable.” Lorenzo tries to reconciliate.

Charles lets out another disapproving mumble. “So you’d be okay with me asking her out?” 

“Excuse-moi?” Excuse me? Arthur looks at his brother, appalled. “You’re going to do what?” 

“Ask her out, Arthur. Would you be okay if I asked her out?” Charles repeats himself in a nonchalant manner, scoring another goal. 

“Of course not!” Arthur cries out. “Why would you ask her out anyway? She’s seeing Patrick.” 

Charles shrugs noncommittally. “She might break things off with him. You know, I always had a feeling she had a crush on me.” 

“Charles.” Lorenzo scolds his younger brother.

However, Arthur is busy going through every single interaction you’ve had with Charles over the years; trying to find some actuality to his brother’s words. He pauses the game to turn towards his brothers, his eyes angry as he looks at Charles with a locked jaw. “No, you cannot ask out my best friend, you porc!” pig.

“Why?” He asks, with a fake innocent look on his face.

“Because, firstly, she is not a pawn you can use to prove something to me in some messed up game. And, two, she is mybest friend, my roommate and my–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows how he would end the sentence if he would – which makes him think for a moment that his brothers just might be right.

“Okay, then.” Charles concedes, unpausing the game and taking advantage of the confused state Arthur is in to score, yet, another goal. 

Though the game is going on, Arthur can’t seem to focus on it because he is too busy thinking about you, and whether he’s been in love with you his entire life.

It’s a couple weeks later when Arthur walks through the doors of the ballet studio you work at. He noticed over the few weeks that you’ve been down ever since you’ve stopped seeing Patrick, so he wanted to surprise you. He greets the old receptionist who works out in the front, giving her one of the tulips he got for you on his way there. When he gets in front of the classroom you usually teach in, he watches you with the kids as a soft smile find its way onto his face. He watches as you fix the techniques of some of the girls who are struggling, but instead of appearing upset, they are smiling as they try their best to fix their postures. When you move towards the old stereo on the corner of the room, he knows that the class is about to end – because something you do at the end of every class is letting the student dance freely to the music on the radio without giving them instructions. He watches as one of the smaller boys in the class shyly approach you, motioning you to bend to his height with his hand and then whisper something in your ear. You talk for a while, and he watches as the boy leaves with a smile on his face, which wasn’t there before, after giving you a hug and a small bouquet of flowers. Arthur waits until the class is over and all the kids have left the small studio to walk in. 

“I was wondering if you offered any private lessons?” He asks with a boyish smile on his face. 

You turn towards him, fast, when you hear your voice. Laughing as you cross the room and throw yourself into his waiting arms. “You couldn’t dance even if Marianela Núñez gave you dance classes herself, Turo.” 

“Well I don’t need classes from her,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “All I need is you.” 

You purse your lips, trying not to smile too widely, at the hidden meaning behind his words – the one which you somehow convince yourself that you’re imagining ever being there. Lightly leaning your head against Arthur’s chest, you begin talking. “You’re awfully sweet today, did you know that?” 

He presses a light kiss onto the crown of you head, mumbling in thought. “Well, I missed you because I was alone at home all day. So I thought I’d come surprise you.” Pulling away slowly, he gives you the bouquet of tulips he is holding. “Speaking of which.” 

“They look like the ones you used to get me after my recitals!” You squeal, taking the bouquet from his hand and inspecting it closely. “I love them, Arthur, thank you.” 

“I’m glad you liked them, poupette.” He smiles. “Although, it seems that I have some competition today.”

You smile and shrug at the mention of the other bouquet sitting next to your bag. “Oh, that’s Leon. Some of the older kids at school’s been bothering him because he’s taking ballet classes.” 

“You made him smile,” Arthur recalls, one of his hands cupping your cheek, which makes you look up to him. “Probably made his day, too.” 

“I hope so.” You tell him, honestly. “He seem to like the classes; I would hate to see him leave just because of bullies at school.” 

“You are a very good teacher, you know that?” Arthur murmurs, watching as a rosy colour takes over your cheeks. 

“Stop it.” You huff, trying to push him off of you in a faux attempt. “Did you come here to make me blush, ma moitié?” 

He shakes his head. “No, no. I thought we could go on a walk? At the marina, before it gets dark.” 

You pretend to think for a moment, but smile, nonetheless. “Can we also get burgers?” 

Arthur tries to profess his feelings for you when the two of you go on your ‘date’, he really does. When he sits down and thinks about it, rationally, he can convince himself that you have feelings for him, just the way he does for you. He can see it in the way you glance up at him every time he makes a joke, or the way you lean into his touch every time he touches you, which is a lot. He thinks he sees something every time you end up too close to each other; even convinces himself that perhaps you are expecting a kiss with the way your eyes slide to his lips a couple of times. But every time he tries to force himself to kiss you or tell you how he feels, an apprehensive doubt takes over his entire brain, somehow convincing himself otherwise, that doing so would only end up in you two getting completely messing up your friendship.

There’s also a part of his brain which consistently reminds him that it is Charles you have feelings for and not him. He doesn’t have a reason why he came to this conclusion; you’ve never explicitly told him about having feelings for his older brother, but there’s a part of him that still clings to Charles’ words – even though he didn’t actually mean anything by them. So as any person his age, who is going through what he’s going through, he takes a step back to observe. It all starts when the two of you go out for grocery shopping. It’s not a common occurrence that Arthur accompanies you, mainly because he is on the road most of the time, but he tags along because “He doesn’t want you to carry the bags on your own.” The two of you are busy fighting over cereal when you run into Charles, who provides a solution by offering that you buy both of the boxes. While you tell him it is probably the only way you and Arthur are going to agree on the fact, he is too busy picking apart every part of the interaction to see whether there could be any possibility of you having any feelings for his brother. The worst of them come a few weeks later, when Arthur and Charles come back from a race. All four of you, including Lorenzo, are seated at your dining table, enjoying takeover pizza when Charles announces that he started to see a girl. You all congratulate him, but after the conversation dies down, Arthur notices a familiar look of longing in your eyes. And that’s when he realises that you have feelings for Charles, and not him, and he absolutely needs to get over his feelings for you before it blows up in his face. 

A couple of weeks later, one of his friends from racing invite you to a party. Arthur follows you, of course, because he doesn’t want you to go alone. He know it’s a terrible idea, though, once he sees you in the dress you chose for the party. It’s feels as if it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you. He manages to let out a strangled answer when you ask him if you look okay, “You look good, Y/N.” The smile you give him return is so sweet, that he suddenly remembers that he should schedule an appointment with his dentist when he has the time. Though he doesn’t manage to convince you to take a jacket with you, he picks up his own as a precaution. The party is in full swing by the time the two of you arrive, which you light-heartedly scold him because the two of you are late. He considers apologising at first, but when he sees the smile on your lips, he just lets you drag him towards the bar without any objections. 

“What do you want to drink?” You ask him, leaning over the bar to take a look at the limited menu. You know he wouldn’t want to drink if he was driving the two of you back home, but since you took an Uber to the night club, Arthur decides to drink as well. 

“I’ll have tequila.” He answers after looking at the menu thinking about it for a second, and then turns to you. “You want to do shots?” 

“Yes, please.” You nod, giving him your ‘prettiest’ smile. “Five?” 

“Three.” He shakes his head and gives you a stern look. “And no mixing alcohols, either.” 

You pout as you watch him order your drinks, your arms crossed over your chest pushing your breasts together. “You’re no fun.” 

Arthur’s eyes fall down to your chest for a moment but he promptly fixes his gaze up to yours, as he places his hand on your hip to draw you close to him. He leans down towards you to whisper in your ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” 

You purse your lips, choosing to play with the buttons on his shirt as a distraction. “We haven’t gone out to party in a while, sue me for wanting to have fun.” 

“We will have fun.” Arthur contends as his thumb starts drawing circles on your hipbone. “Just not by doing something which will cause you to wake up hungover tomorrow.” 

You give him a sarcastic smile. “Hm, mon chevalier en armure brillante.” my knight in shining armour. You turn to the bartender who brings over your drinks. “Thank you.” 

Arthur eyes the bartender up and down, his look over quickly morphing into a side-eye once he realises where his eyes are looking at. He somehow pulls you closer to himself, caging you between himself and the bar, and lifts your chin up with two of his fingers to gaze into your eyes. “Be good, baby,” He tests. “Honey.” He warns. 

“I am always good.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion because of his sudden possessive streak. “Are you okay?” 

He waits until the bartender is tending to other customers to answer your question, his voice is in a lower octave but still somehow audible to you over the loud music in the club. “He was looking at your chest, poupette.”

“My boobs look great in this dress.” You reply while shrugging, the aloof look in your face making Arthur frown. “You didn’t need to act like a caveman, you know. The poor guy was probably scared.” 

“Well, it’s too late now.” He replies, aloof, and downs one of his shots. “Are we doing this or not?” 

It’s a bad idea, after all, tequila shots. Because after you’re done with the first three, you somehow convince Arthur that you need more, which means the both of you end up drinking six shots in the span of half-an hour. The bright side of this situation is that you convince Arthur to dance with you on the dancefloor, which he wouldn’t have done if he was sober. At some point throughout the night the two of you end up getting separated, which has you going around the night club looking for Arthur. You decide to ask some of his friends he introduced to you earlier, who tell you that he’s probably out taking some fresh air. He’s by himself outside of the club, leaning against a wall when you find him. 

“What are you doing here all alone?” You ask him, tilting your head sideways to take a good look at him. 

“It’s quieter out here,” Arthur shrugs, opening his arms and motioning you to come closer. “You’re going to freeze.” 

You find yourself in his arms in record time, not that you could say no to his hugs anyway, his sway making you frown. “Are you okay, Turo?”

He smiles lazily at the nickname as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m drunk, ne devrait probablement pas conduire.” probably shouldn't drive.

“It’s okay, I’ll order an Uber.” He keeps his arms around you as you busy yourself with your phone, entering the address of your apartment. 

Just like at the bar or when you were waiting for the Uber to arrive, Arthur doesn’t let you go completely when you’re in the backseat of the car. He makes you wear his jacket before you get into the car, though the oversized clothing doesn’t stop him from managing to make contact with your skin. He has a hand on your thigh, which is exposed because your dress keeps riding up. You make sure to keep an arm around him when you stumble through the door to your apartment. 

You tell him to wait for you in his room and that you’ll be right over after you take your heels; however, he responds by throwing you over his shoulder as he walks through the corridor which leads up to his room. “Arthur, you’re drunk, put me down!” 

“This doesn’t count as drunk driving.” He provides as an excuse, only putting you down when he enters his room – thankfully without any accidents. 

You sit on his bed to take of your heels just as he jumps onto it, making it teeter because of his movements and makes you laugh at him. Shrugging off the jacket he gave you, you walk towards his closet to hand up the garment before the two of you forget about it. Arthur watches you move around his room with dazed eyes, trying very hard not to laugh when he sees you struggling with the hangers and cursing under your breath. His eyes move down your body when you kneel to get to the last drawer to get out a pair of sweatpants for him, which makes him silently groan at the sight. You walk towards him when you get out the sweats and a shirt for him to change into, poking his stomach to make him sit up straight. “Take off your shirt.” 

“Are you trying to get me naked?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. “At least take me out to dinner first.” 

“I cook you dinner all the time, Arthur.” You drawl, holding out the clothes for him to take. 

He takes them while mumbling, “And I try my best to eat and enjoy all your attempts.” 

“Casse toi, go away, asshole.” You snap, starting to walk out of the room. 

“Where are you going?” He calls out. 

You scoff, calling out back at him over your shoulder. “To get you water and Advil, you better be changed by the time I’m back or I’m putting you under the cold shower.” 

He is, thankfully, changed by the time you get back with a glass of water and the painkillers you promised, You place them onto his nightstand, and face him. “Off to bed, you go.” 

“Stay here tonight?” He asks you, but his voice is devoid of his previous playfulness.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, chéri.” You press a kiss against his cheek and then, feeling bold, you press another kiss to the beauty mark right above the corner of his lips. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, no matter how hard he tries to fall asleep. He keeps trying to convince himself to go to sleep, telling himself that the quicker he does, the quicker he’ll see you in the morning, but he is unable to do so. At some point in the night, he finds himself slipping through your door. He ends up slipping under your covers too, and pulls you against his chest, causing you to stir in your sleep as you cuddle his side. 

“Go back to sleep, honey.” He whispers as he closes his eyes, and he finally drifts off to sleep when he finally has you in his arms. 

You’re sleeping on top of him when he wakes up the next morning with his face buried in your hair. Your closed eyes and even breathing indicates that you’re still asleep, which causes Arthur to do his best to stay still not to wake you up. He soaks up every moment of it until your eyes flutter open and you let out a low whine, asking, “Why are you in my bed? How’d you get here?” 

“I sneaked in.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning, baby.”

“I’m loving the new nicknames; baby, honey?” You mumble, nuzzling your nose against his jaw. “Why’d you sneak in?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses with a strained look on his face, and then he announces. “You’re not my girlfriend.”

You pick up your head so quickly, you think you’re going to break your neck. “I’m aware of that fact, Arthur.” You manage to get out in a clipped voice. 

“And I should probably be thinking about protecting our friendship first, but I have to say this even though you have feelings for my brother.”

“Your brother?” You look at him with your mouth agape. “You think I have feelings for your brother? Lorenzo? He’s like my brother!”

He’s taken aback by your question. “No- not Lorenzo! Do you have a crush on Lorenzo?”

“No! You idiot, why would I have feelings for Lorenzo?” You ask him as you scramble to get off of him, letting yourself fall to the bed and pick up your pillow to hit Arthur over the head with. “I don’t have feelings for either of your brothers, other than being friends, you disgusting pig!” 

“You don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks you tentatively which earns him another hit on the head with the pillow. “Okay, would you please stop that?”

“No, I don’t have feelings for Charles, either! Oh my god, Arthur, what is wrong with you?” The look you give him reflect how much you’re hurt, your fingers occupy themselves with the edge of the pillowcase as you ask, “Do you honestly think I’d be in bed with you like that if I had feelings for your brother?”

He’s careful as he asks, “…No?” He lets out a frustrated groan as he pushes himself to get to a standing position. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I like you so much that somehow you’ve taken over my entire brain!” 

“You… like me?” You ask him, breath hitching in your throat.

“No.” Comes his reply. 

“So, you don’t like me?” 

His hands grasp the roots of his hair. “No, I adore you, I am utterly infatuated by you, I am so besotted by you that every moment of my waking days are filled with the thoughts of you, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I even think about you when I’m on the track–” 

“Arthur, breathe.” You warn him, your hands quickly going over his to try and get them off.

“You really don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks in a small voice. You answer him by shaking your head, which prompts him to ask, “Then why were you sad when he announced he was seeing someone?”

“He told me you’d confess your feelings to me before he ever found someone to date for himself.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth dipping as if you’re trying to keep tears at bay. “I guess I somehow made myself believe you would.” 

“Baby–” He stops himself. “Honey, please don’t cry.” He reaches over you to wipe away some of the stray tears that have escaped your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am stupid.”

“Very much so, yes.” You agree with him as you lean against his touch. “Though, I’m surprised you didn’t notice me flirting with you over the past year.” 

“You’ve been flirting me for a year?” He asks you, baffled. 

You fix him with an unamused look. “Do you think I go around talking about my boobs with everyone?”

“You better not be.” He scoffs as he draws you closer to him. 

“I just might do so if you don’t do something about it.” You egg him on without changing the expression on your face. 

You squeal as Arthur picks you up and gently throws you down on the bed, quickly changing his position to hover over you as he presses kisses all over your face. “Mine,” He announces. “Mine, my girl.” 

“I like the sound of that,” You breathe out. “But I liked the others more.” 

“Which ones?” He asks while letting his finger trace over the outline of your lips. 

“Baby, honey, I don’t even know what you were trying to say.” You giggle. 

“Mine.” He whispers. “I was trying to say that you’re mine.” 

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀DETECTIVE AND MURDERER IN HELL . —

#pairing : alastor x gn reader. #cw : may include adult content. enemies to lovers trope. #summary : you were a detective when you were a human! but uh oh, you died.. and you meet the target that you were on to before your death? #note : I feel bad for not posting for so long, here's a little sneak peek at what I'm working on! i received this prompt from an anon in my inbox and do i love it very much. i have so many ideas for this fic, it'll be my first ever long fic on this blog! i'll reply to the ask once I'm done with the fic :3

“my, isn’t it my favorite detective!” you hear a static, loud voice speak from behind you. you quirk a brow, slowly turning your head to see a demon that somehow resembles a deer. a red deer, that is. he wears this wide smile that stretches from ear to ear, his whole attire so formal it makes you question if you’re underdressed. he holds a cane in his hands; it looks like a speaker that he got custom-made. confusion bubbles inside of you, and multiple questions float across your mind. who is this man, that so happens to know what you work as when you were still alive?

and, out of all demons, why are you his favorite?

“I’m sorry, but have we met?” you turn your body to face him fully, your eyes scanning from head to toe wondering if it’s just a fuzzy memory of yours. the demon steps closer to you, a sense of uneasiness instantly rushes through your veins. you shudder suddenly..

“aha, of course we have! you were even so interested in me back when we were alive!” his words only made your confusion grow. you, being interested in someone? in what way? your work has never allowed you any extra space to catch feelings for anyone around you, so surely it’s not a crush unless you’ve misunderstood. It’s like he read your thoughts, he quickly adds in with a light chuckle.

“constantly trying to gather information about me, pinpointing my location, guessing my next move. fun times! I truly enjoyed watching you do so.” something clicked in your head. so this demon was presumably a target of yours before he died, but how could you know exactly which? you had so many targets, so many psychopaths you had to track down and lock them up for good. though, something about his deer features brings a blurry memory of a specific target that you currently can’t quite put a name to his face.

everyone in the hotel watches your interaction with the red demon quietly. the air is tense, nobody dared to breathe any harder than they are now. charlie is the most anxious one out of everyone in the room; angel is starting to doubt whether he should’ve brought you back to the hotel. but, surely, the manager is smarter than to kill off someone interested in staying, no?

“care to remind me which one are you?” your hands instinctively hide themselves in your pockets as a habit. your tone isn’t as friendly as it was when you spoke to the others, and the demon is loving the reaction he’s getting from you.

“gladly, my dear friend! i’d say my case was the one you spent the most time on,” you suddenly feel a strong tug on your hand before realizing that you’re shaking hands with the demon. his smile widens as you grow more uncomfortable. “the name’s alastor! pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! I was there to witness your lovely slash boring death,”

you pull your hand back from his grasp, face scrunching at the mention of your death. he witnessed your death? what is he hinting? Is he trying to tell you that it was he who took the life of yours?

“I watched as you were murdered by one petty man i convinced, it was one of the most boring deaths i’ve ever seen! but dear, was i disappointed that you’ll never be able to put a close to my case when i thought you’d do better at fighting back.” you freeze suddenly, blood running cold from your face as he carries on.

“I was the last target you had before dying, it was a joy toying with you like a little mouse.”

so that’s what all the familiarity you felt was. his demeanor and personality, all that was jotted down in the notebook you had for research. he matches everything you wrote; you remember word by word from the number of times you’ve reread it, the times at night when you’re desperate to finally put the case to a stop. you feel anger and disgust pound in your chest, feet stepping back a couple of times.

he’s the reason why you died. you stare at his mocking smile, his expression that clearly shows his enjoyment while watching your reaction. a growl bubbles from your chest, and you see the spider demon hesitantly approach you. he stays beside you, rubbing his arm nervously while trying to think of a reason to pull you away from this scene.

“I died because of you,” you breathe out, body shaking not from fear but anger and realization. you suddenly leap forward when angel is about to reach out for your arm, your fingers curl tightly around the collar of alastor’s shirt. his smile only widens at your actions, a light hum that slides out so smoothly and audibly. “and it was purely for fun?” it’s even possible to notice every small feature you have on your face from how close you’ve pulled his face to yours. you earn a mere shrug from the demon.

“woah! babes, hey, calm down would’ja? let’s head somewhere else.” you feel a tug at your arm, but you don’t budge. you want to hurt this demon, to beat him until he’s curled up into a ball on the ground, but you can’t. there’s something holding you back, something telling you to not go any further than what you’re currently doing. he reeks of danger and mystery, hell knows what would he do to you if you were to cross his line. with another growl, you harshly push him away and he stumbles back a few steps with a small ‘oh!’.

angel sees this and takes the chance to quickly drag you away from the scene, and you let him. Everyone in the hall watches angel drag you all the way to the kitchen until alastor is out of your sight. his clawed fingers release your arm, a concerned gaze fixated on your slumping figure as you let out a deep sigh while pressing your face onto the surface of your palms.

now, you’ll really have to think it through whether you want to stay in this hotel. having so many things to take in so suddenly messes up your thoughts, something you’re unfamiliar with considering how you’re always sharp and organized.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[7ndipity]

Mine

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Joon gets easily jealous, but do you mind, really?

Warnings: Swearing, Joonie’s kinda possessive, very suggestive

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took a few extra days, this month’s been a lot, but we’re finally starting to feel better! This one started off angsty in my drafts but somehow turned out way more suggestive than I planned (At what point should I start a blog for spicy fics? lmk)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on in Namjoon’s head that evening, mouth pressed into a hard, thin line as he only half followed the conversation he was currently in the middle of, but you could feel the weight of his eyes constantly tracking you from across the room as you talked with one of the other artists that were at the event Joon had invited you to as his plus one.

You fought the slight urge to roll your own eyes as you caught his hard stare through the crowd, trying your best to ignore him for the moment and keep your focus on your own conversation.

This was starting to become a recurring situation between the two of you; if he saw you getting too close (in his opinion anyway) to another guy, or sometimes anyone at all, his stubborn jealousy would rear its ugly head, turning your normally sweet and understanding boyfriend sour and possessive.

He, of course, vehemently denied that that was what it was, that the other person was just giving him bad vibes and he was just looking out for you, although you couldn’t help wondering if/when he would notice that the those ‘vibes’ he kept picking up on was just their interest in you.

Almost as if on cue, you felt a familiar pair of hands land on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing patterns against your sides through the fabric of your outfit, though it was unclear whether it was meant to calm you or him.

“Having a good time?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You didn’t miss the way his tone went up at the end in annoyance, despite his rather feeble attempt to mask it.

“I am, what about you?” You replied, tilting your head to look back at him.

“I think I’ve had my fill of socializing for one evening. Shall we go?”

“Do we have to?” You asked.

“I would like to.” He said, leaning closer. “I’ve also had my fill of other people stealing your attention from me.” He whispered in your ear, making you shiver.

The car ride home was unusually quiet. You noticed that he was still tense based on the way he was gripping the steering wheel, but you chose to leave it be, leaving him the responsibility to present the topic to you if there was something truly bothering him.

You barely made it through the door though before he was on you, catching you in a bruising kiss as he pressed you back against the wall.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” He mumbled against your lips. “Couldn’t stand the way they kept looking at you.”

“They weren’t.” You gasped between kisses.

“You don’t see what I do.” He said, trailing kisses over your jaw and down your neck to your pulse point.

“Who cares?” You replied, hands struggling to find purchase on his shoulders.

“I do.” He practically growled.

“You shouldn’t.”

Your response made his head whip back up to look at you. “Why the fuck not?”

“Because they don’t matter.” You said, cupping his face in your hands, feeling the heat of his skin against your palms. “I only want you, no one else. You believe that, right?”

He sighed, instinctively leaning into your touch. “Of course I do, I just don’t like people thinking that they can take what’s mine.”

“Yours?” You raised your brows at him. ”What, like you own me?”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not! You belong to only yourself. But-” He stopped, unsure of how to continue.

“But?” You urged, catching him off guard as you wound your hands into his hair and gave a quick tug.

His eyes darkened. “But you're mine.” He pressed another hot kiss to your mouth, stealing your breath as he spoke. “You’re mine and I’m yours. Only yours.”

You relented for the moment, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of him as his hands ghosted over your body, making you press even closer to him.

"Mine."

[soaps-mohawk]

Okay so in case you were wondering why I turned anon off, and won't be turning it on probably for a while, I'm here to deliver receipts.

This is a long post so I'm putting it under a cut

There's been a few cases over the last week or so of people purposefully using other anon's emojis to send asks (not all of these were questionable or malicious. If you accidentally used one already claimed, this post is NOT about you.)

It was brought to my attention by a few anons that asks were sent that were not them. A lot of these asks weren't malicious or harassing which makes it hard to tell. As is the nature of anonymous asks, I cannot tell who sends them without some kind of sign-off or emoji, hence the use of emojis. While I believe not all of these were on purpose (see above), some of them absolutely were.

This started before the debacle about a week or so ago with ♾️ anon (which it has been confirmed that the person who asked to use that emoji was not behind the anonymous asks using that emoji) harassing me about not answering their ask. I took a screenshot of said ask, and this was what they were harassing me about

When I had anon on, I'd get a lot of asks. Sometimes as many as 20 or 30 a day. I am one person running this blog, and it takes me a while to get through asks sometimes. Most people who have ever sent asks to popular blogs (which still pains me to call this one popular) knows it can take sometimes days to get an answer because we get a lot of asks constantly.

Honestly, I wasn't going to answer this one anyway because...it's odd. Especially the timing because this was sent after chapter 29 was posted, right before chapter 30, in which neither chapter had smut in it. I know some people really love angst though so I didn't want to yuck anyone's yum, it was just very odd.

So, as I do, I start with the bottom of the inbox where the oldest asks are and I work my way up to the most recent (there are exceptions in the case of asks related to a post I just made, or asks that are easy to answer with just a few words or a gif versus a long thought out answer).

Anyway about a day after that ask was sent, I got others from that anon asking if I got their ask.

Then I made a post mid-breakdown about life sucking and the horrible position I was in (See here)

They then sent in THIS ask and got publicly shamed as they should.

A day or so goes by and I start to get a flood of asks in my inbox. Some are normal-ish, kind of odd but I'm used to kind of odd questions.

Then I start to get these

Obviously those aren't those anons. Figured that out pretty fast after a few hours of them sitting in my inbox.

Soon after I get this ask as I was getting ready for a job interview and went off because I was already stressed as fuck about the interview.

And then of course after I posted that I get this in response which I took a screenshot of and answered before blocking that anon.

And as I kind of had an inkling about, those asks above as well as several other strange ones in my inbox disappeared after blocking that anon. So it had been one perpetrator behind those at least (which was not the person who claimed that emoji that was a big misunderstanding on my part and that has since been solved and resolved.)

BUT that is not the end of this story.

As the weekend happens and the chapter is posted, I continue to get asks sent in by anons with emojis and continue to get messages from either anons saying they are that emoji anon and they didn't send that in, or those anons privately messaging me and saying they didn't send those in.

So we were having several cases of emoji stealing.

I also continue to get questionable, downright harassing asks, including these two.

That last one is what broke the camel's back and what made me turn anon off. I don't know if I'm the only one getting anons like this or if this is some new fart anon trend or what, but...look. I'm all for getting horny in my inbox. But things like this?? These kinds of things border on sexual harassment and honestly, they made me feel gross. I literally felt gross after reading those.

I don't mind being told a change of panties was necessary after smut chapters but after an angst chapter?? The timing of it was what made me suspicious. If they had sent that about three chapters ago I might not have looked twice at it.

You wanna tell me you had to pull out the willy stick for a chapter, cool. Just don't tell me what hole it was in and how long. I don't need to know that much detail. You wanna send that about fictional characters?? That's what we're here for. But I don't need to know that about YOU. I have boundaries and I'm going to add this to my rules list.

These asks definitely felt like someone very immature (and likely underage) sent them which makes me feel more disgusted about it.

I blocked that anon and the ones above. I just got pushed over the edge by people not being respectful and KNOWINGLY using others emojis making me not able to trust that an anon is who they claimed to be. Between that and the harassing asks above (which were just a select few) I decided to turn anon off indefinitely. Sorry to all my anons who aren't comfortable coming off anon but I just can't do it anymore. If you previously were an anon and are comfortable sending asks, you can still use your emoji. I don't mind that at all.

So yeah, that's the long story of why I turned anon off, and the receipts of the disgusting harassing asks I was getting. Hopefully having anon off indefinitely will make those sickos grow bored of waiting and force them to reevaluate their lives or mature enough to realize they were being stupid (cautiously hopeful but probably not.) If the internet has taught us anything, it's that trolls are gonna troll into adulthood and they will never reach the point of maturity to realize they're just being stupid. That's why they live in their parents' basement alone with no friends.

[waxingrunes]

I understand if you’re too busy to answer this or don’t want to, but i was wondering if you wouldn’t mind telling us some of your non-explicit headcanons or just some traits you think wolfstar have in general? Your explicit ones are sososo hot but today I'm feeling low and need some comforting. Yiur blog is just a safe space for me but I totally understand if not! I love your work <3 all my love x

There are so many nondescript hc’s I have that this has the potential to turn into a formal essay with cited sources, so I’ll go for more of a generalised dump of info I have for each in a hope that it lifts some of your fog Anon. Maybe bullet pointed because it’ll be easier to read than my usual untidy form of communication. Hope you feel lighter soon.

Sirius

• will lick a yoghurt pot if there’s no clean spoons. There’s the option to go for fruit instead, but he wants the yoghurt and by god he will get his yoghurt

• is a fucking terrible driver, gives Remus and any passenger white knuckles due to speed issues and not using a lower gear when taking corners

• is however, in complete control when on a motorcycle; very hot, very controlled and will take his passenger’s safety very seriously

• professionally trained in ballroom and ballet, the latter which he is sometimes mocked in jest for, even by Remus, until he one time caught him stretching elegantly on the floor one morning with his upper body laid flat between long, toned, wide spread legs, ‘morning moony’, a healthy blush on his cheeks

• private crier, doesn’t cry easily

• goes quiet when angry as an initial defence but it doesn’t take long for him to start dropping breadcrumbs of sarcastic comments; can also be snobby and bratty, perhaps sometimes will get nasty and direct (bringing up things he shouldn’t to score points in the heat of the moment)

• suffers immeasurable guilt (helped by the point above) but is always masking a weighted feeling of guilt no matter what he’s doing, so much so it’s manifested into quite a serious anxiety problem in the wrong crowds

• he fidgets a lot, not in a chaotic way, just always has to have his fingers busy with something

• likes the smell of gasoline

• once had to talk himself down from throwing a child in a dustbin

• loves the colour red; blood red and cherry red to be precise but secretly loves dark blue even more because it’s what looks most handsome on Remus despite him not wearing it often

• sighs a lot

• pretended he couldn’t speak English to get away with jumping a queue

• hates the smell and taste of liquorice (unless heavily strawberry/cherry/raspberry flavoured)

• on one particular messy night out he got so impatient waiting at the bar, he reached over and grabbed a discarded bottle of alcohol the server had left open and swigged it

• digs his nails into his skin when anxious and is often reminded to relax the tension in his joints

• stargazes often

• once linked his pinky finger with Remus and asked him to pinky promise not to tell anyone what he was about to tell him, since which a tradition of trust was born where Remus will offer his pinky or the last two fingers for Sirius to hold or squeeze when he’s feeling unsure in public, or in any situation where verbal reassurance isn’t appropriate

• gets a weird thrill at the sound of cork popping from a bottle

Remus

• collects beer mats and keeps them in a drawer, thinks about making them into a display

• got tired of kids playing ball against the wall of his place (after repeat offences and him asking very nicely for them to stop) one day so went out, retrieved the ball and threw it so hard against of the cars it set the alarm off

• owner of said car came running out the house and Remus blamed it on the children. Never had the same issue again

• has a wildly sweet tooth and will always drop one or two packets of sugar into any warm beverage

• stares into space and gets involuntarily caught on someone’s face one too many times which makes them uncomfortable from the ‘Death Stare’ phenomenon when in reality, he’s lost in lala land

• can cook, is actually a proficient cook, but will not cook for anyone but Sirius, James or Lily

• will crack his knuckles, wrists and neck absentmindedly, all of which makes his company squirm because it’s often very loud and ‘pop-py’ but Sirius fucking loves it

• stays very calm during an argument but can shout louder than most and when he does, ears ring from the silence that follows

• prefers tea over coffee

• will eat liquorice any time he wants to piss Sirius off

• cries more than Sirius, but still a private crier

• always has to be the old boot in Monopoly

• loves words that are vowel heavy or double voweled because those are the ones where the scraps of Sirius’ lost French accent surface the most

• has a gentle touch, is aware of his size and nature of his lycanthropy, therefore always somewhat reserved

• loves socks, has a collection of ‘dad socks’

• has the messiest writing out of all the Marauders but loves handwritten things, owns three very different fountain pens for very different purposes

• is polite, but as he’s aged doesn’t tend to ‘fake smile’ a lot, feeling no need to fill uncomfortable silences for the sake of others

• has a chair he favours and often dozes off in it. Most of the time waking up to Sirius on top of him

[kyra45]

Keys guide to scam spotting

Hi! I’m Key/Jess and I’ll be giving you a detailed explanation on how to spot scam accounts with commonly known examples such as what they do or what to look out for. All this information is meant to serve as a post that can be easily understood with information of my own and tips of my own. Any tips I give here is my own and any resemblance to other info is entirely a coincidence. I will make this post as accessible as possible for ease of readability so it is all plain text and no big letters beside the top so it has a title. This is mostly based around pet donation scammers but can be used to spot other scams as well.

—

What is a scam post on tumblr? A scam post is when someone is using information that isn’t their own and claiming they need money but are using a stolen story as theirs. Their situation, while it is real most of the time, is actually from another site and isn’t their situation. Usually a search of it will show any posts but this works best if you used Google or another search engine. However, this process isn’t always reliable. Scam posts are posts that are not truthful and deceive users into donating by having stolen content.

—

There are a few things to keep in mind that will help you figure out if an account contacting you is a scammer and usually, most of the time, you will find it is a legitimate person if you just kindly ask them for verification with any personal details removed. However, some blogs will never reply and may block you or ignore you because they don’t have any interest in proving who they are. It’s not uncommon for these scammers to wave away questions or turn off anon asks or asks off overall so no one can ask them anything. They may even turn off messages to further prevent any concerns being addressed and try to avoid suspicion.

—

One thing to keep in mind is how the account contacting you would have located you. Do you have a popular post that’s breached containment? Did you share a post that may be trending or fandom related? Any of these may lead to someone contacting you an asking you for donations be it through asks or direct messages. If your DMs are closed, the account may send you an ask telling you to message them first because they are desperate and then when contacted they ask you for like a thousand dollars on the spot. If you wonder why I suggest limiting your messages, it’s because people don’t like getting these and will mark it as spam. Scammers also do this to avoid public confrontation. But know not everyone doing this is scamming.

—

Another thing to keep in mind is how the ask was worded that the account sent you. Did it tell you to answer privately because they don’t want anyone calling them a spammer or because they would prefer you to message them instead? This is a very common type of scam ask and one that’s unfortunately extremely easy to get and see if you share trending/popular posts. Most often these are asks related to a sick pet by a blog that is only an hour old or a week old if you check the date of their pinned post. If they detect even the slighted doubt in your reply or question back? They block you.

—

Lastly, it doesn’t hurt to also ask questions to the blog who contacts you and see if they can provide clarification on anything you may be concerned over. This can be showing more images with personal info edited out or explaining any discrepancies in the info they supplied. For example, it could be how the images their using don’t match up with their information or how the story their using doesn’t seem to make sense because it’s not collaborating with any specific details they had already given. It may also be the supporting link they supply doesn’t match up the currency they request because the county doesn’t use the specific kind of currency they claim to need. More so if they don’t give any currency conversion rates. You can also check for backdated posts by turning on timestamps and checking the date of the first post if it’s easy to locate and seeing if it matched the reblog date in ‘other notes’. Some accounts will make posts look older in order to be deceptive and make the account look older then it really is.

—

Additionally, some scams are blogs who connect you saying they can help you but they want to give you a check and ask you to cash it or give them your banking information and phone number. These blogs are never legitimate people wanting to help you if your post has links that lead to ways to send support. Their are legitimate people who would help you that don’t ask for personal information using a blog that has no pfp, no bio, and has no posts. Treat these kind of blank accounts as bots. Report them and block them.

—

In closing, it is necessary to research the information you see in some posts and accounts to make sure it is a legitimate blog and not a scammer trying to make a quick buck. Not every blog you see asking for help is a scam account and generally most of them can easily provide proof their legitimate such as having several close friends, a blog that’s extremely old with tons of posts, or provides plenty of information in their posts that clearly explains their situation and shows the images they use is their own and don’t resort to a temper tantrum when questioned or when concerns are brought up.

If you found this post useful, feel free to share it or add your own tips to it! This is just based around my own personal encounters over the months of compiling information.

[saey707]

OMG A LEAGUE WRITING BLOG.. Honestly you’ve partially inspired me to make one!!! I love your works so far :)

But! In the meantime, the S/H comfort you wrote for Kayn was so beautiful! So I wanted something similar with Aphelios with a touch that’s a little more personal to me! if possible i’d like to request heartsteel Aphelios with his s/o (who May or May not be chubby, depending on your preference) struggling with an eating disorder? thank you in advance!

✿ Prompt: Aphelios worships you ✿

♡ champion focus: aphelios ♡ tw: reader w/ low self esteem + ed ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author's Note: Hi, anon! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ This was a bit of a difficult subject for me to write, but I still wanted to get something small out nonetheless! I didn't touch too much into the ed, because it is a bit of a touchy subject to me. But I still hope you like what I have in store! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Aphelios knows how to read people like the back of his hand. It's one of his own personal superpowers... Or, more so a catalyst of being unable to speak.

Because of this, he is able to effortlessly observe those around him and know exactly how someone is feeling. He knows how to manipulate people to get what he wants. And worst of all, he knows when someone is lying to him or not. Including you.

That was one of the things you grew to hate about Aphelios. You hated that you could never lie to him.

It took a couple of weeks for Aphelios to realize something was wrong. It was just a matter of figuring out what it was...

You were always so confident and bright. You never cared about how anyone felt about you and never did anything to appease anyone. You did what you wanted when you wanted, which was something that Aphelios loved about you!

Aphelios couldn't help but wonder: Was it him? Did he do something wrong? He thought the two of you had a good relationship, you never had any problems before... It can't possibly be him... Maybe it's the fans? You both did recently come out as a couple! Maybe they were just jealous? Aphelios couldn't see a reason why anyone wouldn't like you right off the bat! But... Could that be the reason??

He had to investigate...

"Did you eat today?" Aphelios typed hastily before holding his phone up. You hummed in response. But he knew you were lying.

"Do you want the other half of my mooncake?" "I'm not hungry right now, Phel. but thank you!" He knew you were lying.

"We're all going to grab dinner, I'll bring you something back!" "You really don't have to! I'll find something here!" Still, he would always bring you something back.

While he was out, Aphelios took the opportunity to turn to his friends for help, which was extremely unlike him. Aphelios usually kept to himself, so it came as a surprise to everyone in the group when he asked for them to look around and see if they could find anything.

And when they did, Aphelios couldn't help but feel a wave of regret wash over him. He felt like it was his fault. He felt responsible for the way you felt. Aphelios pushed for you to have a more public relationship with him after all... In a way, he felt like was responsible for destroying your self-confidence.

But that feeling was quick to fade with Yone's reassurance. Instead, Aphelios felt angry. Not at you or himself... But at the entire world for expecting you to change.

You didn't need to change a single thing about yourself. You were nothing short of perfection to Aphelios. And he intended to remind you of it every day from there on out.

As soon as Aphelios got home, he burst through the doors, carrying 5 bags of food and a half-eaten box of chocolates he somehow swiped from the back of Ezreal's car.

"Phel..?" You were caught off guard by your boyfriend unexpectedly engulfing you in a big hug. His shoulders were shaking, giving you the surefire indicator that he was only beginning to cry.

You tried to pull away from him, but he only held on tighter.

Tears poked at the corners of your eyes. You knew.

Aphelios didn't need to speak to convey his love for you. His actions alone did that. That was one of the things you grew to love about Aphelios. You loved how he always knew the precise way to show you how much he loved you.

And you didn't realize how much you needed for him to see the issue at hand until now.

[rangerelizabeth]

“I’m fine. This just happens sometimes. It’s normal for me.”

Hey! I just saw your prompt post and this one reminded me so bad of like something Gale totally had thought was normal (be it like a childhood trauma result or smth) and then John just going “uhhh… no.”

Love your blog btw !

Hi anon! Thanks so much for the ask and for saying you love my blog! @joeyalohadream requested the same prompt (tysm for the ask as well!!) and I had this almost completely finished before I got yours. I'm glad we had the same idea! This is set a couple of weeks after Gale and John first meet as flying cadets at Randolph Field, TX.

Prompt: "I'm fine. This just happens sometimes. It's normal for me."

Word count: 1081

Despite the sun having already dipped behind the horizon, the darkness does nothing to relieve the sweltering heat of the Texas summer as their small group makes the short walk to the bar off-base. With the day off tomorrow, Bucky had managed to convince several of the men to accompany him in letting loose tonight.

Most impressively, Bucky had managed to convince his straight-laced, new roommate Gale Cleven, or Buck, as Bucky had taken to calling him. The minute Bucky had laid eyes on the gorgeous, golden wonder that was Gale Cleven, he knew he had to stake his claim before it was too late. And so, he’d slung an arm around his shoulders and fumbled out some story about Gale looking just like “his old friend Buck, from Manitowoc, Wisconsin.” 

As it turned out, not only was Gale the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on, he was also a damn good pilot, surprisingly shy for his looks and skill, and somehow impenetrable to any of the vices that regular people fall victim to. He doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t dance. And yet, here he is, braving the stifling Texas heat with the rest of them only to inevitably stay seated quietly for the evening, likely nursing a ginger beer.

It had taken surprisingly little pleading from Bucky to get him to agree to come. While they’ve only known each other for the couple of weeks they’ve been flying cadets, their status as roommates means that they’ve been living out of each other's pockets for that time, and Bucky already knows he’s found a best friend for life in Gale.

He can be happy with that—a best friend—despite the way his heart pounds in his chest everytime he so much as looks at Gale. He knows he has to be happy with that, unless he wants a one way blue ticket home before he barely even gets started. Yet, he can’t help but wonder if Gale would have still agreed to come out tonight if anyone other than Bucky had been asking.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Bucky realizes they’ve reached their destination. After ordering their first round of drinks—several whiskeys, and, as Bucky predicted, a ginger beer for Gale—the men scatter around the bar. 

Bucky stays with Gale for a while, chatting aimlessly about everything and nothing, before deciding it’s time to take to the dance floor. Despite Bucky’s best efforts, Gale refuses to join him. Bucky figures he ought to cut his losses and just be grateful that Gale came out with them at all, so he leaves him be. He finds a beautiful blonde to dance with who looks a little too much like Gale to be a coincidence, and they have fun together for a few songs before Bucky finds himself longing to get back to his friend.

He slides into the booth next to Gale, knocking his shoulder against his friend’s. Two other guys from their program sit on the other side of Gale, but they’re engaged in some sort of animated debate and seemingly don’t notice Bucky’s approach.

“You having fun?” Bucky asks.

Gale shrugs. “I reckon you’re having enough fun for the both of us,” he says teasingly, a small smile gracing his lips.

Bucky opens his mouth to respond, but he’s cut off by the sound of a glass shattering across the bar. Some idiot must’ve dropped their drink, he thinks, not yet noticing the way Gale is tensed beside him. But then, the man on Gale’s other side tosses his hands up in the air in whatever conversation they’re having, and Gale flinches hard. 

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky questions worriedly, trying to catch Gale’s eyes. When he looks into them, they’re glassy and despondent. Bucky notices the way Gale’s breaths are coming shallower, his hands shaking where they rest on the table. “Buck?” Bucky tries again, with no luck. 

“Okay,” Bucky breathes out, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, come on.” Slowly, so as not to startle him further, he wraps an arm around Gale’s shoulders and encourages him out of the booth, guiding him outside into the fresh air. There, they sit on the curb of the sidewalk, Gale seemingly still lost in his head, if his unsteady breathing and faraway gaze are anything to go by. Bucky strokes a hand gently up and down his back and waits. 

Finally, Gale lets out a shaky exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly before speaking. He doesn’t look Bucky in the eyes, instead keeping his gaze fixed on the street in front of them. “Sorry about that.” 

Bucky drops his hand from Gale’s back, not wanting to push his luck. “No, don’t apologize,” he says, shaking his head. “What was that about?”

“I’m fine. This just happens sometimes. It’s normal for me,” Gale responds casually, brushing off Bucky’s concerns. “We can go back in, if you want.”

Bucky stares at him incredulously. Not two minutes ago, Gale had been shaking and unresponsive despite Bucky’s best efforts, and now he’s suggesting they go back into the bar like nothing happened? “Do you want to go back in?”

Gale looks sheepish. “Well, no, not really. But I don’t want to ruin your guys’ night.”

“You’re not ruining anything. You’re the one I wanted to hang out with anyways,” Bucky says, trying to ignore the faint blush rising on Gale’s cheeks at his admission. Though it makes Bucky’s heart flutter with hope, now is clearly not the time to dwell on it. “Seriously, though, are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just… My dad liked to drink,” Gale starts hesitantly, wringing his hands in his lap. “And when he drank he got mean. Violent. Sometimes, things remind me of it, I guess.”

Bucky’s stomach drops at the implication in Gale’s words. The thought of anyone, especially Gale’s own father, intentionally hurting the kind, thoughtful man in front of him is enough to have him seeing red. Gale’s father better hope Bucky never crosses paths with him or he’ll have another thing coming. But, for now, Gale needs him, so Bucky pushes his anger down.

“C’mon, let's get you back to the bunks,” Bucky says softly, standing and offering a hand to Gale to help him up. Gale takes it, allowing Bucky to pull him up from the curb.

And if they stay there a little longer than necessary before letting go to start their walk back to base, well, that’s no one’s business but theirs.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for telling someone they're a horrible person and making them relapse?

trigger warning: self-harm, suicide(?)

so im, like many teenagers online, an avid participant of fandom spaces and my current favorite is genshin impact. if you've ever interacted with the genshin fandom you may guess where this is going but i happened to find myself liking a ship that is the big nono ship in this fandom (aka the incest ship, kaeluc) but since i mostly stick to my space and don't really interact with anyone that doesn't already have content of this ship on their account id never gotten into any hot water over it.. until recently.

this person, ill call them rick, suddenly liked a bunch of my (non-ship related) posts. normal interaction, i didn't think anything of if and moved on. (i didn't even notice at the time, but they unliked all of the posts before what happened next, i assume as they realized i was a proshipper and didn't want to associate with me.) next thing i know, the same user is in my askbox, sending me the most vile, hate filled messages i have ever seen.

ok... no biggie. i delete the asks, block them and move on with my life. but it doesn't stop. i had never in my whole life received hate online, but now for the first time ever, i had a dedicated hater, sending me anonymous asks at all times of the day. death threats, dox threats, telling me to kill myself, calling me a degenerate and all that, all with the same consistent writing style. now, one could say that maybe this wasn't rick, and maybe not even all the same person but i really feel like this is the only reasonable explanation considering i have like 6 followers and my most famous post has 3 notes. i don't think im important enough to have that many haters.

so, i did the only thing i could think to do: turned off anon asks. then the asks started coming from random throwaway accounts. ok...turned off asks. then it was dms. turned those off too. THE FUCKING COMMENT SECTIONS OF MY POSTS.

dedication isn't enough to describe this. at this point it's actually becoming distressing to me and im considering closing my whole account cause i just wanna get away from all this. im 16, i don't have the mental capacity to spend all day policing my social media because someone wants me to die for liking fictional incest.

so i very reluctantly unblock rick and send them a dm. i very gently ask if they are the person who has been sending me asks/dms/etc and if they are, if they could please stop because it's become genuinely distressing to me and i just want to be silly on a website. they block me.

alright, im now out of options. everything on my profile is blocked at this point and i don't even want to post anything else so i just kind of leave the account behind for a while. when i come back, i discover that someone HACKED into the account and defaced the whole thing (changed pfp, deleted posts etc etc) so now im genuinely bummed. i go to rick's profile and guess who has been unblocked? i ask them if they can please answer my question. they don't answer but instead tell me i deserve everything ive gotten and i should choke for all they care.

i tell them they're a terrible person and go absolutely off the rails like the dumb, upset teenager i am. i didn't say anything particularly horrible (mostly i just tell them about how awful they've made me feel over fictional shit that really doesn't matter and how i just wanted peace) but i definetely wouldn't like to receive a message like that. and rick didn't either, because they blocked me.

well, since im sure you're wondering where this comes in, here's where i kind of feel like an asshole:

i continued to stalk rick's account on a different blog (because i was bitter. ok?) and they've been posting about how they relapsed into self harm because of a message they received from a stranger and how they've been crying non-stop and this is the worst relapse they've had in years and etc etc and i just got this pit in my stomach. this person's bio says they're 15! i don't want to ever be the reason a fifteen year old is hurting themselves! i've been feeling like a piece of shit ever since (esp since i also deal with sh) and i just feel like the worse person ever. i honestly don't know if i was just acting like anyone else and this was an unfortunate consequence or if i need to go pray for god to forgive my sins or something.

aita?

What are these acronyms?

[halfmoth-halfman]

Leaving this blog.

With my mini-series finishing up soon, I've decided to leave this blog as well as my AO3 account once it’s finished. This is not a decision I've made lightly, but circumstances have left this a place where I no longer feel safe.

As of now, I won't be deactivating this blog and will be leaving my fics up for anyone who'd still like to read them. I can't say this decision won't change later, but right now I feel that I've put too much work into this blog to simple delete it.

Below the cut is an explanation of why I'm making this decision, and what has been happening on this blog since the end of last year. It's not required to read or anything to understand the gist of this post; it's simply for my own peace of mind knowing that I spoke up about it. There will be topics that are possibly triggering such as harassment, threats, and racism so please mind the warnings and tags.

The mini-series is queued to finish next week, but there will be no more fic polls or wip wednesdays. I'll still be on here to make sure the queue does its job, and maybe post some stuff from my old drafts as a last bit of fun.

I'll have dms tentatively open for the next two-ish weeks for those who'd like to follow my new account, however I will not be answering anything from empty blogs. After that, asks and dms will be turned off, and I won't be coming back to this blog very often, if at all.

I cannot say thank you enough to the wonderful readers I've had and the amazing people I've met. I don't think I would've ever continued writing without your support and friendship. There's nothing I can do to show my appreciation for all of you.

Maybe we'll see each other again. If not, I hope your inspiration is always flowing, and 2024 treats you kindly.

Mothie 💜

Again, TW: rape/death threats, violent racism, repeated harassment, and mental health.

Back in November, I started getting rude, mean-spirited anons. It wasn't anything I was too bothered with because it didn't happen often and, honestly, my inbox gets flooded for a week or so anytime I post about certain topics. I blocked, deleted, reported and moved on thinking whoever it was would get bored and leave.

However, what started as a few rude anons calling me a bitch or stupid turned into a lot of anons being vile and racist which only worsened over the next few months.

I spoke about it in this post (link) near the end of November. In that post, I mentioned that those were the nicer asks and that was not an exaggeration. I have gotten my fair share of shitty anons as seen here (link) when I had to take a break from my blog because of said anons, but I have never gotten the amount of vitriol that I saw in these asks.

When I turned anon off, I started getting even worse messages from empty blogs that would either be blocked or deactivate within a week. When I turned my askbox off, I started getting hateful DMs. When I turned DMs off, it jumped from Tumblr to my other social medias which I had to private, completely avoid, or outright delete.

I got messages attacking my writing, calling me slurs, threatening to find me and rape or kill me, sending me explicit porn and rape videos while insulting my sexuality, and going into gross detail about how much people I interacted with hated me or how I would never be as good as them. I tried to power through it, pretending everything was fine while I pulled away from this blog, from writing, from friends that I loved and talked to every day. Everything about this blog, the fandoms I enjoyed, the people I talked to, made me so anxious because of these constant messages.

I took several breaks while dealing with this in therapy, repeatedly trying to come back and get comfortable on this blog, but within a few days of coming back the messages would start up again, either here or on any of my social medias I tried to unprivate, and I couldn't deal with it.

Only in the last week or two has it started to slow down and stop on a few of my other socials, which is the only reason I even feel comfortable making this post. However, in regards to this blog and my feelings toward it, the damage is done.

I don't think I can ever truly convey how isolating this has been. So many of these messages were about how I've spoken about my struggles as a black woman in fandom, how much of a burden it puts on the people who interact with me, how inferior I am to them and that I am everything that's wrong with fandom.

I felt scared and anxious to talk to anyone about this, especially people mentioned in those messages, out of fear that this harassment would jump to them. There are friendships that I stepped away from that I will never get back because of that. There are friends that I've felt like I was betraying by never telling them about what was happening because I felt too ashamed about letting this get to me.

I constantly worried that making a post like this would feel like, "Oh, Mothie's whining and trauma-dumping into the void about fandom racism again", that those messages would be right and it would force people to feel like they had to support me. Or worse, that people would agree and it would only make things worse. I've wrestled with so much guilt trying to decide to make this post and figure out what to do to make me trust myself again.

Ultimately, I don't think I was wrong for talking about my issues in fandom, and I don't think anything I've said has warranted this kind of harassment. I don’t know the who’s or why’s behind of this, but I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never really know. Truthfully, I'm not sure it even matters at this point. In the end, I think moving on from this blog entirely would be the best thing for me right now.

But, man, does it fucking suck.

This was the blog where I felt comfortable enough to start writing again, to start posting my fics. It's the blog where I met so many friends, got the courage to join new communities, found new hobbies, new music, new things to enjoy in life. It feels silly to say about a blog, but this was a place where I felt like I was able to carve out a space for myself. I put so much work into making it my own, and now the only thing I feel about it is anxious.

Hate messages and threats and racism have always been a part of fandom, and the internet as a whole. I’ve known since I started participating in fandom spaces that it was going to and continue to happen. I've known that I had to have a tough skin, especially if I ever spoke up about problems I faced because no one was going to have my back if I didn't have my own. I thought I had learned how to deal with it, and how to make a safe space for myself. But this goes beyond that. I did not deserve this. No one deserves this.

In some ways, it feels like admitting defeat, like I'm weak or hypocritical for not being as strong as I pretended I was and leaving. In other ways, it feels freeing to start over, and I'm choosing to view look at this optimistically even if it bittersweet. I don't want to let this scare me away from writing or from speaking about things that are important to me. All I can do now is say I'm so incredibly sorry to those I've hurt by stepping away or keeping this secret, and make sure I'm able to at least leave this blog on as happy a note as I can have.

[schrodingers-romy]

Sponsor a WIP for Gaza

Hello! I don't know how this is going to go, or if anyone's interested, but I have decided to contribute to @ficsforgaza's fundraising for Gaza via the Sponsor a WIP option. Please make sure to check the lists of wonderful writers and other fan creators who are participating on that blog, in case you would like to sponsor one of their WIPs, or request something from them! More info below the cut <3

♡ How it Works

For every $1 donated to a vetted fundraiser, I will write 100 words of a WIP listed below.

What you do:

Once you have made your donation, please send me a screenshot of that donation (with any personal info censored) via DM or ask (off-anon), and tell me which WIP you would like to sponsor. (Note: these asks will not be answered publicly).

What I do:

This page will be updated to indicate the new sponsored word count, as per your sponsorship, at the rate of 100 words per $1 donation. Note that my progress will be logged in this post but the fic will not be released until it is completed.

I will also submit your redacted donation to the ficsforgaza blog as proof; this is to prevent 'scamming' in the form of one person sending the same donation to multiple people.

♡ WIP List

Note: This page may be subject to additions or changes later on, but any sponsorships will be fulfilled. All estimated final word counts are estimates, therefore they are subject to change.

♡ Ghost!Nanami Kento x Reader

GN!AFAB!Reader; some smut; fluff and angst; horror elements

There are many rumors surrounding the old, neglected house you moved into. Supernatural rumors. Despite your skepticism, strange occurrences lead you to believe that there may, in fact, be unexplainable presences in your home. Some, more trustworthy than others...

Estimated word count: around 8k Current word count: 635 Donated word count: 0

♡ Werewolf!Kakashi x Werewolf!Obito x Reader

GN!AFAB!Reader; some light angst; fluff; past relationships; pining; established relationship; getting together; smut; knotting; mating; threesomes

Both you and your husband Kakashi believe Kakashi's old mate, Obito, is dead. When Obito turns up changed but alive, you realize Kakashi never fell out of love with him...and despite some of your misgivings, you are falling for him too.

Estimated word count: around 7k Current word count: 700 Donated word count: 2500! (0 written so far)

♡ Neighbor! Big Brother Choso x Reader [FUNDED ✔]

GN!Reader; sfw fluff; mutual pining; getting together; feat. cute toddler Yuuji

Your handsome new neighbor and his adorable little brother have wormed their way into your life and your heart.

Estimated word count: around 3-4k Current word count: 2,139 Donated word count: 1500! (0 written so far)

♡ Dragon!Mitsuya Takashi x Reader

GN!Reader; dragon shifter Mitsuya; possible smut; other tags to come

You are the first sacrifice to the Dragon in decades; you don't know which is worse: the possibility of dying of exposure on the mountain, or being consumed by a mythical beast. Luckily for you, the dragon is not looking for its next meal...in fact, he is looking for the ideal muse, and you are perfect for the job.

Estimated word count: around 5k Current word count: 100 Donated word count: 500 (0 written)

[mysticbewitched]

Hey mystic

I was gonna link an ask from earlier but i cant seem to put links in here for some reason and google is not helping. Its the one about the non-dualism community and how toxic it can be. I just wanted to say I am glad others agree. I wouldn't consider myself a beginner to loa manifesting or shifting. I just think its crazy how someone says things like "just be" and someone asks them to clarify it and they respond by saying something like "do you need help drinking water."

Trends come and go, I'm sure once ND is no longer new someone else will unearth some old spiritual practice and claim its above LOA as well. I just wish everyone would be accepting and encouraging instead of what seems to be condescending because they think they know something no one else does.

Lastly I heard you say on the podcast the person you were gonna do it with is no longer in your life, sorry to hear that. I only bring this up because I believe I saw a post saying you manifested this person into your life and then they changed (I could be wrong though). I also manifested someone back (an ex) but it was a 'manifestation' and all i ended up creating was misery.

You don't have to answer this if the last part is too personal, but if you want send me a message. Just wanted to say I think you have some great views that resonated.

Great podcast btw

I completely agree with you and I'm glad that others are able to see the madness that I'm seeing.

What they usually mean by telling you all, "just be" is they're telling you to realize your true self as awareness. They're telling you to just recognize your divine nature in the present moment and enjoy knowing yourself.

I don't see why they don't just tell you to turn within and recognize your true self as awareness in this present moment without all the riddles.

I agree that everyone here should turn within themselves and listen to their inner guidance instead of relying on the "others" for advice, because then the constant search and craving for more answers will never end. However, at the same time, it's the polite and helpful thing to do to let your readers know exactly what they're looking for while you advise for them to look within themselves for the truth: realizing divine the source of your true self.

If everyone knew what they were looking for, I think they would have an easier time turning within and trusting their inner voice to lead them to answers.

I feel as if the lack of clarification on exactly what to look for is unnecessary and it can come off as mind games instead of just being direct with the readers and telling them all, "you're turning within to realize your true nature. Hint: you are always *aware.*"

I happen to notice from time to time as well that some of these bloggers feel the need to use the whole "words are meaningless" nonsense as a moronic excuse to bully or put down other blogs amongst themselves or with their anons for simply viewing things in a different perspective and I don't think that's cool for anyone to do.

That behavior isn't right. It's just plain mean.

Everyone is entitled to their own perspective and share their own views, but to publicly put down specific blog names for everyone to hear and make fun of them together? Very condescending and cold.

Oh, believe me, I'm waiting for the next spiritual trend to come out of nowhere. I wonder what it's going to be next. Now my curiosity is in flames.

To end things here, I want to thank you so much for your kinds words and the lovely compliment.

Your feedback and appreciation for the podcast means so much to me. I'm so very glad to hear that my perspective of things resonated with you.

Thank you for enjoying my podcast.

[freeuselandonorris]

as a pretty much complete stranger to kinks I ask this with genuine and open curiosity: what is it with piss? like what's that kink all about? admittedly I've been wondering about it and I consider you my local expert on the matter (plus your writing has compelled me to enjoy things I never thought I'd dare to touch so I trust your judgement). is it like a marking/possessiveness thing? or a "that's Me" sort of idea? or something else entirely? I'd like to hear what appeals to you about it if you don't mind indulging me

omg anon if i don’t MIND! this is my dream ask lmao especially on a night where i need a good distraction ty 🙏

below the cut for anyone who followed me for the fanart and light romcom fic and not the hard kink 😭

okay SO. i think piss is one of those weird kinks where there’s a lot of different sub-kinks to it and a lot of motivations for it — like, there’s being pissed on/pissing on someone, there’s drinking it (incl forced drinking) which can also have sub-kinks like some people only like to drink “from the source” whereas others like it from glasses or funnels or bottles or don’t care at all. then you have wetting (pissing yourself, basically), which could be just doing it wherever, in certain clothes, in semi-public. there’s omorashi/desperation, some people really get off on the pain of being desperate and holding for hours. plus there’s stuff like diaper play which is very linked to the ‘little’ space and isn’t something i fuck w personally so i can’t comment on that. but basically what i’m saying is there’s no one motivation for people to be into it and different types of piss play will have different appeals, even to the same person.

personally i am generally pro most kinds piss but my real kink is wetting, specifically while fully-dressed and preferably in pale clothes so the wet patch shows up. that’s something i developed an interest in super early — i can remember being a kid and taking the opportunity to piss through my swimsuit after going to the pool lmao. i think the appeal there is the inherent wrongness of it; it’s very linked to shame, humiliation, degradation and also there’s a lot in there about doing things that are forbidden and go against social conditioning. it’s an insanely trippy feeling to do it in front of someone in particular, personally it’s honestly comparable to drugs in how much of an endorphin kick it gives me.

i do also love pissing on/being pissed on though! and that’s def more what you were mentioning about a sense of possessiveness, although for me it’s more linked again to humiliation, particularly when i’m bottoming for it. i’m a huge fan of bodily fluid play in general and there’s a lot in there about feeling marked, about being a receptacle for someone’s waste fluids, about being objectified — one of the hottest piss scenes i’ve ever experienced was a cnc scene where i had a pillowcase taped over my head and then that got pissed on without warning (we had this kind of play pre negotiated!) and there was something about the combination of being made ‘faceless’ and then that happening to me out of the blue 😵‍💫 there’s a kind of devotional aspect to it, like yes i WILL get on my knees and willingly cover myself in your piss because i adore every aspect of you!

andddd finally there’s just the sensory aspect of it! piss is hot and wet and that can feel really good on your skin when you’re turned on 🤷 and honestly if the person you’re drinking from is well hydrated it doesn’t taste or smell too bad, it’s just kinda salty and a bit umami… it kinda reminds me of miso soup at times lmao. if they’re not hydrated or they’ve had a lot of coffee/beer it can be a bit intense and honestly i have gagged and spat it out sometimes! but that’s kinda hot to me too 🤷

whew that was fun lmao. sometimes i feel like i should start a specific blog for this stuff bc i LOVE talking about it! ask me more kink stuff pls!! anyway anon i hope this kinda explained the appeal to you a bit, ty for the respectful and open minded q 🫡

[leclsrc]

Hiii, could i request a charles angst drabble like just very angsty and sort of an ambiguous ending too? maybe theyre in a secret relationship and theres infidelity involved. sorry if this is too specific, thank you thoughh :)) <3

forever ago – cl16

genre: angst, drabble

auds here... as thanks for 500 :) this a bit long for a drabble sry! some lines are borrowed frm a drabble i posted on my last blog. title from “for emma” by bon iver—a bloody good song imo. hope this does ur req justice, anon!

Your heart twists with something unfamiliar. “I don’t know what it is,” you say, frustrated. “He hasn’t talked to me.”

Over the phone, your friend’s voice is slow and reassuring. “It’s probably nothing. The last race didn’t go too well for him, so he might just be shutting himself out.”

You nod, half-convinced, still staring at Charles across the paddock. You’re dubious, because if it was anything ordinary—if it was a bad race, a DNF, a crash—he’d shield the both of you from the rest of the world. He’s engaged in conversation with Pierre and Carlos, arms crossed over his torso, eyes crinkled with a smile. You try to persuade yourself into believing your friend, but deep down, you know it’s wishful thinking. Something’s wrong, you’re sure.

You purse your lips, swallowing the lump in your throat that doesn’t leave. You feel like the rest of the world.

He’s been ignoring you for a few days, limiting communication to intermittent texts that only come if you message first. You’ve exhausted every possible reason, but nothing works. You’re left to your own devices of wondering aimlessly for excuses. 

Nobody said pursuing a secret relationship would be easy, sure. But you and Charles had managed to pull it off for four years. And it wasn’t like anything was ever spoonfed to either of you—it was insanely difficult maintaining a professional journalist/driver relationship beside an intimate one. While some knew, it was still a secret from a good part of the paddock, let alone the public.

It meant sacrificing the better things of a relationship: sleeping in together, going on dates together, even holding hands. You resort to fleeting taps, lingering touches that look friendly. But you’re content. He’s yours, even in those moments. 

You blink, and you wake up cold in Silverstone, even under four layers of duvet.

You scramble to find Charles, and in the mess of the sheets, it takes longer than you anticipated. You kick your legs, but they only tangle. You even lift your head up, but find the duvet has totally engulfed you. You’re half-awake now, spent with the effort it takes to find him. You need to find him, even now, even when the sky is pale blue outside and you need to leave before anyone knocks.

Like always, he finds you first. A hand takes yours, pulls, and his strength causes the obstructions to clear.

You stare into his lidded eyes. “Je te tiens,” he says, voice deep, slurred, but reassuring. You nod, heaving a sigh, almost amused by your previous bout of anxiety. Why did you ever doubt yourself? It’s Charles, you think. He’s got you. 

You blink, and he’s far away again, across the paddock, distracted like he’s been so often lately. You rub the bridge of your nose, in a futile attempt to rid yourself of the dry pangs of pain there. You have a race to report. You can think of him later.

Turns out, the thoughts come sooner—just under an hour later, when you’re beside Will and using your phony reporter voice, reading off the fluorescent teleprompter text. “We’ll be inviting a few people to ask some questions on the live Formula One feed,” you say with a smile. “And our Ferrari drivers over here will get to answer some lucky fans!”

You gesture and turn to the screen beside you, still smiling. You’ll smile until your jaw aches. A fan comes on the air, a middle-aged man by the looks of it; his Texan accent permeates through the speaker and goes, “Hey Carlos and Charles, huge fan! Jus’ wanna ask, what is your favorite track this year?”

Blink, and your headache’s gone. You’re with Charles in his Monaco flat, legs swinging over the counter. He’s shirtless and cooking a grilled cheese. “I’m finally getting promoted next year,” you say, a fact you’ve reiterated about a million times tonight.

“Dunno why you’re surprised,” Charles says. “With your skill, ’twas just a matter of time, no?”

“Oh, ha ha,” you joke. “Don’t flatter me, it’s getting to my head.”

He sets the plate beside you, wedges himself in between your legs. You lean forward to rest your chin against his shoulder. “I love you,” he says into your neck. “I love you so much.”

And you blink, you’re holding your mic, Carlos is talking again, about how his favorite circuit has just got to be this and that, then the Texan fan is off the screen. It’s a few moments before the next fan fades into view, an excited and hyper teenager rattling off oh my god I love yous faster than you can count. 

“So this isn’t really related to racing,” she says, her accent distinctly Californian. “I just wanted to ask if it’s true that Charles has a girlfriend? ‘Cause, well, everyone saw him with somebody last night, and…”

The world spins slowly then, when you’re staring at the screen, listening to her voice. You try to blink and distract yourself but it doesn’t work. You keep smiling. You blink. It doesn’t work. You wonder why it doesn’t work. You wonder why you have to face this on air. You wonder why you can’t blink and be gone, if just for a minute.

Above all, you wonder who he was with while you were working late last night.

You swivel in your chair and reduce your smile to a tight-lipped one. “How interesting!” You chirp.

Years of practice have done your voice justice; even if you want to scream, your voice is level, enthusiastic. Your eyes flit over to Carlos, who’s already looking at you. His brows are furrowed, mouth half-open in clear confusion. You can hear Will stuttering beside you. “Oh, I—um, how in—how splendid.”

It’s not splendid. It’s not interesting. But Charles gulps and says still, “Yes, I’m seeing someone.”

The words cut through you like shrapnel. You feel yourself fall apart, right there, trying desperately to put yourself back together. Four years, and they’re gone, on the air. You exhale, try to subtly signal for the segment to be ended early. The rest is a blur—Will carries the rest of the interview with standoffish, fake interjections and additional questions. You just smile.

How could you have been so stupid, really. To think a secret relationship would survive. If anything, it made it easier for him to do what he did. You steal a glance and his eyes are cast low, dark. He’s so far away. Is this it, you think. Everything you’d ever worked for, loved for, fought for, hidden, celebrated—is this it? For another girl? You can’t help but wonder who she is. If she was that much better, that much more alluring, that Charles thought it a good choice to throw away four years under the bus.

The feed ends before your thoughts run out, and you drop your mic onto the surface of the table, leaving the pen immediately. Will says something but you can’t decipher it. Charles follows, even if you can hear Carlos holding him back. Leave her alone, he says, and Charles says, no, I need to talk to her.

He circles a hand around your wrist, wrapping just underneath the Cartier bracelet you’d gotten to match his. The reminder makes your chest ache with a totally wrenching pain, throbbing through you as he pulls you into an empty space in between motorhomes.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He sounds desperate, solemn.

“Do you love me?” You ask weakly. And when he laces your fingers together and nods: “Then why do make me look like a fool?”

He shakes his head. “It meant nothing, cherie. I promise.”

“You’ve no right to tell me that,” you heave. Your chest is so heavy you legitimately feel like drowning. “And for me to find out on the job? I thought this whole time that I did something to you. Turns out you’re just busy fucking someone else to be kind to me. I thought you were mine, Charles. How could… how could you hurt me like this?” You don’t mean to sound so broken, but you can’t even blame yourself.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

“But it still did,” you say simply. “I thought—I thought it was gonna be us. I thought you were the one—the one person who would never hurt me.”

You’re crying, you realize, tears running down your cheeks and onto your jaw. When his silence persists, you purse your lips, wipe the tears out of your eyes before they stream again. You can feel people staring, you can hear hushed voices, make out your friends trying to find you. “Charles,” you say wetly. “All I ever did was love you. You said you would do the same.”

This time, when you blink, you manage to picture the past clearly.

You’re in Monza, your first day on the job, a balmy day with a sea of red fans. The paddock is intimidating, crawling with people,  and you’re having trouble looking for your boss. The crowd is unbelievably noisy, vibrating through the entire area. Vaguely Italian cheers erupt through the place.

You’d circled the area a couple of times but still, you haven’t placed where you need to be. You turn several times to pinpoint the landmarks, the hospitalities, the logos, but to no avail. You’re lost.

“You okay?” Someone says, with an accent just as European as everybody else’s. 

“Yeah, uh—well, lost, to be honest. I need to find the media pen, ‘cause it’s my first day.”

“Right over there,” he says, smiling. His eyes crinkle, almost disappear with how big he beams. He stretches a hand out to shake yours and you take it, introducing yourself quickly. He lets his hand linger, and you smile back. You have a feeling this isn’t the last time you’ll see him.

Your heart twists with something unfamiliar. “I’m Charles.”