#reblog reply

[psychotic-tbh]

Children can be prone to certain behaviors as they’re still learning. This doesn’t mean being a child is bad, but behaving in *harmful* childlike ways can be

I’ve got nothing against children, nor adults who behave like children in innocent ways. Hell, I’ve got an agere blog :0

I guess I could tweak the original post, replacing “childish” with “behaving immaturely”

🤷‍♂️

Stop saying…

“Psychotic/Schizophrenic” when you mean: unpredictable, unhinged, unreal, etc.

“Bipolar” when you mean: polarized, scattered, fickle, unstable, etc.

“Delusional” when you mean: unrealistic, unreasonable, close-minded, stubborn, etc.

“[insert “R” slur in relation to intellectual disabilities]” when you mean: unreasonable, unintelligent/ridiculous, childish, etc.

“OCD” when you mean: particular, neat, overbearing, etc.

“Narcissistic” when you mean selfish, abusive, manipulative, etc.

Note: I’m NOT saying that these are synonymous. This is also not an exhaustive list.

[hahskeleton]

Eclipse will be fine…

@redhybridz

[smartestmaningotham]

@arkhambird

Hullo nigma

Todd. Long time, no see.

[psychotic-tbh]

Can I ask for your thoughts on something? ( you dont have to awnser if you dont want to,, just kinda curious to see your take on it! ) Thoughts on DID/OSDD systems who are ALSO psychotic? Ive had doctors say I cant be a system because psychosis explains it better or vice versa, it feels rlly invalidating but i can see where their coming from even if i dont agree.

I don’t have any thoughts on it personally since I’m no expert and I’m a singlet but I would def get a different opinion. I’ve seen people who state they have both, but again I’m no expert.

Personally though I support systems in general who act in good faith but I don’t have a lot of info on it tbh. :0

I hope you’re able to find the answers you’re looking for and that you won’t encounter too many dismissive psychs /gen

[pellucid-constellations]

Hahah I’m sorryyyy <3 thank you for reading, the next part will come soon!! 🩷🩷

Fable - During

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel was too late, and something was brewing. The fate of your wings rested in the balance and there was nothing left of him to reconcile with.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Angst, injury, violence

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. The next part is going to be long guys <3 Thank you for reading all of this angst!!!

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

The ground beneath Azriel’s feet must have disappeared. 

He was unstable, falling, plummeting into an unknown abyss. 

When he looked down, Azriel saw the plush carpet at his feet, but as he replayed Rhysand’s words—four words, echoing—the blur behind his eyes made the physical obsolete. We can’t find her, Rhysand had said, followed by a multitude of questions from Cassian that Azriel could not hear. Everything was buzzing and the carpet was gone. 

Where was Lucien? Azriel remembered that Lucien was to go with you. Where was he? 

He had to be dead because if he were alive and you were missing, Azriel would kill him himself. 

“Lucien,” Azriel spoke, his voice rough, interrupting the conversation he had not been part of. 

“What?” Rhysand asked. 

But Cassian ignored his High Lord’s confusion. “She was never bringing Lucien,” he growled, throwing his brother a sneer. “She only said that to make sure you went on your date. I told her I should’ve come. I told her—” 

Azriel had lost his breath. He was grappling for it, trying to make sense of Cassian’s words as his lungs began to burn, but you wouldn’t do that, would you? Why would you lie to him? Over something like this? 

“Cassian, enough,” Azriel gasped, the buzzing of his brother’s voice a constant barrier in the losing battle within his head. “Who’s looking for her? Where should we go?” 

Azriel was dressed in a ridiculous button-up shirt with slacks that now felt too tight on his legs. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and his shadows took advantage of the open space, trailing up to protect him from nothing. Because nothing was here—he wasn’t in danger. 

You were. 

Azriel had only gotten through drinks with Elain before the call from his High Lord sent him into the sky. He couldn’t remember if he apologized. Azriel’s shoes were pinching his feet. 

“I had just lost connection with her when I called you. I sent her to the northeast camp. There’s a possibility that—” 

Azriel was traveling through the shadows, darkness consuming him before Rhysand could finish his sentence. He should have grabbed Cassian for backup, but that was a thought Azriel would only have much, much later. 

His mind was on you—only on you. 

That wasn’t unnatural for Azriel; you were one of the most important people in his life and you had been in trouble before. Life-threatening, war-induced trouble, but somehow, this felt different. 

You had been distant lately. 

Azriel had noticed, but Azriel had also been so zeroed in on getting Elain’s attention that he figured he would have time to check on you in a few weeks. 

When he landed in the camp, the foreboding quiet made him consider that he might never get to check on you again. Illyrian camps were never quiet. There was always shouting or fighting or nagging mothers getting after their young. But the insects in the bushes could be heard in this camp, and Azriel paused amid his racing heart to make sense of the noise. 

And then he heard the scream. 

Your scream.

And he was running. 

His shoes groaned as they pounded into soft dirt and you screamed again. Azriel had never heard that sound come from you. The way it erupted into the air—it was as if it was ripped from your throat, evoked from nothing but agony. 

He pushed himself harder, faster, until the screams became closer and a small hut materialized on the horizon. The image of the quaint house brought Azriel relief, but that relief was short-lived because your screams had become tired in his journey. With each step, your voice broke more and more and Azriel didn’t even feel angry. 

The rage he expected to feel was consumed by the terror that gripped him. 

He ripped open the door and that terror only increased tenfold. 

Azriel was usually focused during battle, his mind razor-sharp. He was known for calculating every step, for remembering each life he took, and being able to recount each slice of his blade when asked for a report days later. Azriel was a warrior and a spy. 

But Azriel could not remember his actions. 

From the moment he opened the door and found you on the ground, surrounded by enemies and so broken, he lost the ability to calculate anything other than death. 

He figured a few must have gotten away because he vaguely registered that the door made a sound. But over the screams, that sound was inconsequential, and with the image of you before him, lying in your blood, chest only minutely rising and falling, everything else was inconsequential. 

He only remembered that the rage finally found him. 

Only when bodies littered the floor did the anger make way for the visceral fear that came with reaching for you—grabbing you as you let out small, weak sounds and took labored breaths. 

“Y/n?” Azriel stressed, eyes roving over your figure with haste that his hands couldn't match. He had to be careful; so much of you was broken. “Y/n,” he spoke again, as if the echo of your name would somehow fix you, snap you out of the hurt. 

Azriel’s breath quivered. His scarred hands hovered over your skin now, afraid to touch you more than to bring you into his arms. His fingers shook. Your wings—it was your wings. 

“You’re okay,” Azriel affirmed, whispering only to himself. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

Salt tainted the surface of his tongue, and Azriel then recognized that he was crying. Fat, heavy tears blurred his vision and fell into his mouth as he repeated his mantra into the stagnant air. 

Your wings looked beyond repair. When Hybern destroyed Cassian’s, the roots remained. The delicate flesh was burned and torn, but regrowth was still feasible.

Only small pieces of the membrane along your back remained. 

Azriel’s soul wept. 

You groaned, and Azriel stopped his inspection of your back, his hands brushing your hair off from where it stuck to your skin. 

“Y/n?” he tried again. “Can you hear me? I’m—I’m going to bring you home, okay? You’re going to be fine, I promise.” 

He shouldn’t have promised that. His voice broke as he spoke the words and Azriel knew he shouldn’t have promised that because you only let out a broken rendition of ‘my wings?’ that Azriel had no response to. He only squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to your temple before shadows consumed him once more. They had been rampaging around the pair, whispering worried, angry words in Azriel’s ear, but they remained faithful. 

They brought you home. 

Mor screamed first. 

He assumed everyone would be out looking for you, but Azriel hadn’t broken the connection to Rhysand’s mind, and they had been expecting him. His family stood before him as your blood stained the rug of his High Lord’s favorite sitting room. Rhysand was missing, gone to retrieve Madja, but Azriel was only looking for those he knew could help you. 

His throat caught on air as he frantically searched for Feyre in the room. When he saw her wide eyes, he let out a desperate, “Help her,” that sounded nothing like him. His High Lady’s shoulders rose and fell with hurried panic as she came forward and then hesitated. 

Azriel heard someone vomit in the corner of the room—Cassian, he thought—and Mor came to kneel beside him. 

“Feyre,” he sobbed. “Please. Please, try.” 

Mor was crying. Cassian had wiped his mouth and come to stand beside Feyre, but everyone was too afraid to touch you. You rested in Azriel’s arms, but even his palms remained face up and did not connect with your skin. He would break you more, he was sure of it. Your wings bent at odd angles and hung from your body by only tethered threads and no one knew what to do. 

Azriel thought that dying would be better than this. 

His button-up was stained red. 

“Fuck.” Rhysand’s voice rattled the air in the House. At some point, Feyre had broken her hesitancy and kneeled before you, a gentle glow emitting from her hands as she tried to stitch together the broken remains of your skin. When her mate appeared with the elder healer, she turned wild eyes towards him. Rhysand stood frozen, mimicking each person in the room, but he was the High Lord—a composed leader—so his reverie lasted only seconds before he was sent into action. 

“The table,” Rhysand demanded. “Lay her on the table.” 

No one moved. 

Azriel couldn’t stop looking at you. 

Madja then spoke, no, demanded, “Now.” 

The table was cleared, everything swiped to the floor with abandon. As gently as he could, Azriel rose from the floor on shaking legs and heaved you up with him, offering soft apologies as you cried out. He wished you would pass out from the pain, be free of it all, but the agonizing reality that you might not wake up struck him harder. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he whispered against your hair. His body ached. Azriel leaned you against the table as the other members of his family turned you on your stomach. He kneeled to meet your lidded gaze, your face pressed against the wood. “Madja’s going to fix it, okay?” 

The healer was giving orders—Cassian to get water, Mor to support your head, Feyre for support. It was all a buzz in Azriel’s ears. He licked his lips and tried to meet your eyes, but they were trailing off, unfocused. 

“Y/n?” he tried. “Angel?” A name he had dropped once Elain came into the picture. Your lashes fluttered. His attention peaked. “It’s okay, angel. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry—” 

Azriel was torn from his position on the ground, a heavy hand shoving him up and against the wall. His shadows remained caressing your skin, but a fist met Azriel's face and he lost sight of you. 

“This is your fault.” 

“Cassian!” Mor called, desperately pleading with no one. 

“It is,” Cassian seethed, his arm pressed to the Shadowsinger’s throat. “If he hadn’t been searching for something with a woman not even meant to be his, he would have been there. She would have said anything to ensure your happiness. Anything, Azriel.” 

Azriel blinked and Cassian’s face was inches from his own. “I didn’t—” 

“You have been blinded, brother. You’ve been blind for years and now this is the price.” 

“I don’t—what are you saying?” Azriel pleaded, trying and failing to look over Cassian’s broad wings to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Cassian, this is not the time,” Mor scolded, but the anguish burned so deeply in Cassian’s eyes that Azriel could tell he wasn’t hearing her. 

“She gave you everything,” his brother continued. “She—” 

Your scream punctuated the building tension in the room. Cassian whipped around and Azriel used the opportunity to shove him away, the Shadowsinger racing to your side once again. But, once again, he was pushed away. Rhysand held his shoulder back this time, shaking his head with a furrowed brow. 

The screams echoed in the room and they hurt. 

They hurt everyone. 

Feyre and Mor stood beside Madja, the three of them set to the fruitless task of saving your wings. A small part of Azriel spoke the truth that they were also just trying to save you. You had lost so much blood and he still knew nothing of your other injuries. 

“Rhys,” Azriel begged, beseeching him with his gaze. 

But Rhysand only shook his head once more. “They need the space.” 

“She needs me.” 

Cassian scoffed and ground his jaw, but a glance in the general’s direction found only tears and the quivering of his lips as he pressed them together. 

“You need to let them work.” 

“This is my fault,” Azriel spoke, his tone dead, lost within the echo of your screams. “I was seeing Elain,” he admitted. He met Rhysand’s eyes. “You told me not to. She lied so I could go.” 

Rhysand didn’t even look disappointed. He didn’t look surprised. He only ticked his jaw to the side and breathed deeply through his nose as your screams filled the room once more. 

Azriel flinched. The soles of his shoes were caked with blood and cracked along the stitches. 

Rhysand would have the right to be angry. He had the right to send Azriel away and force him to sit in uncertainty and the consequences of the night, but Rhysand found something familiar in the Shadowsinger’s eyes—something different. Something that Rhysand could find in himself if he were to search his mind from the night he thought Feyre to be dead. 

Impossible, the High Lord assumed, but you were still screaming and there was no time to inspect the intricacies of Azriel’s reaction. 

So Rhysand only held back the maelstrom of his own emotions, his sister broken on the table just feet from him, and kept his response to that of a leader. 

“Let them work, Azriel.”

[the-kr8tor]

You stay the night at Hobie's for the first time

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: You sleepover at Hobie's houseboat.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, FLUFF, smut implied.

My Masterlist

Inspired by this post

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Obsessing over the pimple on your forehead, you try to pop it in between your forefinger and thumb. 

"Ughh" you grimace while staring at your reflection on Hobie's grimey mirror. 

You glimpse at your form, you're wearing one of Hobie's numerous band shirts, after you accidentally spilled mouthwash on your pajama shirt, you asked to borrow one. You're giddy that you smell like him.

He joked that you spilled mouthwash on it on purpose just to wear his shirt. 

"Stop it, you're gonna make it worse" Hobie says as he watches the disaster in front of him. He's lounging on his bed, arms tucked under his head. His dark jumper rides up a bit showing his toned stomach. His legs are properly tucked under the patchwork comforter.

"But it's bothering meee" you kick your legs like your throwing a tantrum.

"It doesn't even look that bad," Hobie pats the open space beside him "come to bed, lovey" 

"Says the man who has clear skin even though you wash your face with the same soap you use on your body" You turn to face him, ignoring his exposed skin. 

You've never seen him this relaxed before. He's a pretty laid back guy already, but this? His half-lidded eyes looking at you, paired with him in his comfortable non-spiky clothes– maybe you should come to bed.

"It's genetics, all natural, baby" 

"It's actually au naturel" you cross your arms on your chest, hiding your uneven breathing.

"No, it's not" 

"Yes, it is" you step forward.

"Nuh uh" 

"Yea uh" 

You stare at each other for a second.

"...C'mere" Hobie concedes defeat or else you would be at it all night. He takes his left arm from under him to reach towards you. 

"Fine" you head towards the bed, your sea legs swaying when a small wave hits the houseboat. You crawl under the covers. 

"Why are you so far, get over 'ere" he grabs the cover under you to drag you towards him, closing the already small distance. He's been waiting for this the entire day. He feels elated, he couldn't wait to finally cuddle with you, 

You hoped he didn't notice the small distance you made, but alas he's a perceptive one who doesn't like admitting he likes cuddles. Truth be told, you're actually nervous spending the night with him for the first time, you're not expecting for something to happen tonight, but if something did happen you're prepared for it, kind of, sorta, maybe?

Not to mention, the houseboat is a little intimidating, like what if you get sea sick and puke all over his carpet, well you're floating on a river, but nonetheless the rocking motion could still give you motion sickness. Or what if you kick him off the bed while asleep, or you sleep walk and you fall overboard. Or what if–

Hobie pinches your nose, keeping his fingers around it. "Oi, where did you go?" 

"Nuhn of yhor bhismes" you swat at his hand. 

"Your eyes went glossy for a second, thought I lost you" 

"I was actually thinking about your houseboat" 

"And here I thought you were thinking 'bout me" he holds his arm out behind you, unsure if you're okay with the action. 

Noticing his uncertainty, you swallow your shyness, you lean against his arm placing your head softly on his shoulder. Any doubt from Hobie is quickly washed away by your reaction. He pushes you closer to his warmth with the hand around your shoulder.

"What about the houseboat?" He stares at you while you play with a loose thread on his jumper.

"Like.. how'd you get it?" You absentmindedly twirl the thread around your fingers.

"Bought it off a bloke"

"That's it? No crazy or wacky story behind it?" You stare up at him suspiciously.

"Yes, there's no wacky story behind it" he mocks your word choice by copying your voice. "I needed a place, my friend's cousin's friend sold it at a cheap price. That's it, nothing madcap 'bout it" 

"Hmm, Do you even know how to drive, wait no sail? Is it called sailing when it doesn't have sails? Nevermind you get what I'm talking about, do you know how to do that?" You ramble, he finds it adorable.

"Yes, how do you think I brought it here from Amsterdam?" He's now curious whether it's sail or drive.

You gasp, sitting up "See! There IS a wacky story behind it" you poke his chest playfully.

Hobie grabs your finger to stop you "There IS nothing wacky about it. Well-" he remembers something, you perk up "we had to dodge the coast guard, but that's about it" 

"THE COAST GUARD?!" A huge grin blooming on your face.

"All right calm your beans" Hobie pushes your head back down lightly.

"How long did it take you to get back?" You snuggle closer to him.

"It would've just taken us 6-7 hours, but we had to hide from the coast guard so it took us about 10 hours" 

"Who were you with?" You fight a yawn.

"Why? You jealous?" Hobie shakes you lightly, he wants to talk to you more.

"Why would I be jealous of your friend's cousin's friend?" You rub one of his unruly eyebrows, shaping the strands back into place.

Hobie chuckles. He wants to stay like this with you, sleep be damned.

"What do you want for breakfast?" A yawn escaping you. You situate yourself on his chest.

"You gonna cook for me?" Hobie holds on to you tighter.

"Hmm, if you're nice to me in the morning, yeah" 

"What do you mean? I'm always nice to you" 

"You say that as you're staring at my pimple" you start to close your eyes. 

"Well, gorgeous, I'm not staring directly at it, I'm looking at you, you wear my shirt really well" 

"Well, handsome," you tease him back "anything looks better when I wear it" you feel sleep taking you.

"You're right," Hobie whispers against your hair "I like my eggs sunny side up by the way" 

"Hmm" a soft smile on your face.

Since you're wearing socks, with a sly smirk on Hobie's face, he slowly lifts up the leg hem of your pajama pants with his cold foot, once there's enough space, he quickly lays his ice cold foot on your leg. 

"Ack! What- Hobie!" You shoot up from your position. 

Hobie laughs loudly, you feel the houseboat shake lightly.

You playfully slap his chest.

"You!" Slap "Menace!" Slap

In one swift movement, he grabs your slapping hand, then he flips himself over you, his legs on your sides, caging you in.

You gasp at the weight above you, a wide smile blooming on your face.

"Hobie! You're too heavy!" Drowsiness is now completely gone.

He half kneels on your sides so he doesn't completely crush you.

"You're not allowed to sleep" Hobie leans slightly towards you, you can see his playful smirk illuminated by the moonlight.

"What do you mean I'm not allowed?! You invited me to a SLEEPOVER, you dork!" You gasp out as he's a few inches away from your face.

"Lemme guess you're the kind of person who falls asleep first in a sleepover? you're the dork here, sweets" he leans closer his lips ghosting over yours. 

You close your eyes in anticipation. Instead of a kiss, you feel Hobie blow raspberries on your jaw.

"Ack! HAHAHAHAHAHA" your legs kicking up trying to stop him from tickling you.

Hobie pulls back breathlessly.

"Oh you're ticklish? Got it" he smirks devilishly. "Wonder where else you're ticklish?" Hobie tilts his head.

"No! Don't you dare, Hobart!" Your eyes widen when he winds up his arms to tickle your stomach, despite the threat you can't help but grin.

"Oh using my government name now, huh" Hobie tickles your sides relentlessly, your laughs echoing throughout the space. 

"Okay! Okay! I'll stay up!" You say in between laughs.

He finally stops his attack, letting you breathe. 

"Yeah?" He takes his tickling stance again.

"Yes" you giggle "please stop or I might piss my pants" 

"Ooh kinky" he squeezes your cheeks together as you glare at him. 

"Can you please kiss me already so we can properly cuddle like you wanted" you say with your squished lips.

Hobie chuckles "saw right through me, huh" he leans down finally giving your most awaited kiss.

He eases up from squishing your cheeks so you could kiss him back properly, you hold on to the back of his neck, grounding you. 

Hobie pulls away, he stares at your wide eyes lovingly. You lift yourself up using his neck as leverage, quickly peppering his face with kisses, until he laughs with every peck.

You pull back, taking in his lovesick stricken face, his smile lopsided, eyes basically shaped like hearts. You're sure you mirror his expression. 

"I should invite you more often" he lays back down next to you, arm wrapped around your torso, half of his body staying on top of you, his legs splayed over yours. Hobie relaxes immediately.

You crane your neck "yeah you should. I really love your home, babe" you rub his arm soothingly.

"Really? You're not sea sick?" 

"I gotta be honest with you, I took a kwells tablet beforehand," you laugh.

"That's pretty smart" Hobie fights a yawn "you're really smart, love" he rubs the side of your neck.

"You're only saying that so I'll make you breakfast" you whisper, once you notice his eyes slowly close. 

"No, you're really smart, and lovely, and a bloody good cook" he parks his head on the crook of your neck with a sigh.

You chuckle softly, pulling the covers up to his chin, you lay your head just above his. 

You both fall asleep listening to each other's steady breathing with the houseboat rocking you both rhythmically.

A/n: I'm sorry that my last fic made y'all cry lmao, here's some fluff. As always thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

[the-kr8tor]

HI KATYYY HOW ARE YOU??

I'M FINALLY BACK YAYY, art school has been kind enough to give me a breather from all the projects and assignments so now I can catch up with all the fics from Octobie that I haven't read yet😭😭

Also what did I miss? :33

HELLO, ANGEL!!! Welcome back! ❤️

Yayy you can finally read and see some octobie works!! Hmm well we're simping over Hobie so the usual! 😂

[the-kr8tor]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFB2KU32/

Imagine R doing this just cuz they can while Hobie's coming over, needing to use the bathroom, "Y/N, I need to use—..." and now he's standin' in the door way just staring at R.

(I'm completely 100% responsible for my FYP.)

R: you want some baby lobster soup?

Hobie:...sure

(I don't have a tiktok so I have no idea what a fyp is lol)

[lotusbxtch]

Ok @yxtkiwiyxt , LOOK. I’m pulling this from real life experience because even tho my husband and I have been together more years than most and were basically married in practice, when he legally became my HUSBAND and I now get to call him husband??? Oh BOY do I get giddy as hell about it. So Joel being balls deep and calling me his husband would take me right TF out 🥵.

And LOLLLLL I’m glad the Snapchat bit resonates! I do the same thing but around my home area… just curious to see how other people’s Friday nights are going, heehee. Thanks again for reading and for the kind words!! 😘

Juno

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader Word count: 2.2k (lol this was supposed to be a drabble) Rating: Explicit - 18+, MDNI

Summary: Your honeymoon with Joel is off to a bang.

Warnings/tags: honeymoon sex (it’s very feral), unprotected PIV sex (they’re trying to get pregnant but be smart IRL!), oral sex (m and f receiving), big fat breeding kink, pussy pronouns, creampie, cumplay, mentions of foreplay over the clothes, sort-of/accidental voyeurism, very loud sex, rough sex, mentions of marriage/family planning/birth control use, dom!Joel, feral!Joel, references to pregnancy, no outbreak!AU, cursing (but honestly swear words should be the least of your worries for this story lol), Reader is female, has hair that is long enough to put into a ponytail, and able bodied but otherwise not described (it’s you, boo!), no use of y/n

a/n: This is what happens when a horny invasive thought is allowed to take root in my brain. My darling menace @for-a-longlongtime sent me this Reel and it made me… think about things. Combined with the inspiration of the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter, this is FILTH. Just… filth. But since @mountainsandmayhem and @alltheirdamn literally begged me to write this, here you are, written in a near-fugue state. Not beta’d, we’re doing this thing unprotected, just like Joel lmao. Banners by @saradika-graphics.

MASTERLIST

a/n pt 2: psssssst. Do you like Joel Miller? Do you want *more* Joel Miller? How about a series where not only Joel is your husband, but Frankie is your boyfriend? If so, tap here for SoCal to NorCal, my ongoing series!

I should have closed that damn sliding door.

You knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as you stepped foot into the immaculate, stylish Greek vacation suite you’d booked for your honeymoon with your new husband, Joel Miller. You’d spent the long flight teasing each other incessantly - the lightest of caresses, lingering kisses, surreptitious groping and heavy petting under the luxe blankets afforded to you by your first class seats. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you most days, but now, fresh from your beautiful wedding as his darling wife? He was absolutely insatiable.

Joel had barely shut the front door on the endlessly kind bellhop before he was on you, ravenous with desire. His large hands began peeling off the soft layers of clothing you’d worn on the airplane, kissing you fervently and moaning into your mouth. You wove your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly when he kissed down your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whined, and you felt him growl lowly before nipping at your pulse point.

“Been waiting hours to take you apart, baby,” he murmured. Sucking a hickey onto the column of your throat, he laved the spot with his tongue to soothe the light pain. “Teasing me when you knew I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You pulled back on his hair with a yank, making him hiss. “You asked for it. You were the one rubbing circles against my clit through my sweatpants. My panties are ruined because of it.”

“Not my fault your pussy is so juicy,” Joel chuckled. “Especially now that she knows she’s gonna getting dicked down as many times as she can take it in a day.”

A couple months before your wedding, you and Joel discussed your desire to start trying for children. You’d thrown away your birth control after that conversation, but resolved to use other forms of protection until after the wedding.

You nor Joel had packed a single condom for this trip.

“Fuck me, Mr. Miller,” you breathed, moving your hand from his hair down his body to his rock-hard cock. He groaned when you made contact.

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Miller,” Joel hummed, walking your naked body backwards towards the bedroom as you pulled at his clothes.

Now, you’re realizing that the sliding door to the ocean-view balcony is cracked open, allowing a lovely coastal breeze in but also letting your cries of pleasure float into the wind. Joel’s face is buried in your drenched pussy from behind you, his slurps and smacks obscene, not to mention his moans of ecstasy at the taste of your juices. You lay your chest onto the bed and take it - that’s all you can really do. You’re trying to stifle your sighs and moans, but your husband’s expert tongue is making that increasingly difficult.

“Oh god, right there,” you whimper, and your first orgasm of the day rolls through your body slowly, unfurling like the fragrant blossoms in the white-washed courtyard of the villa. He continues moaning and lapping up every drop of your essence while your body shakes.

One more hard suck on your clit, and then Joel is pulling you back onto your hands and knees on the plush cream bedding. He crawls towards your body, grabbing your hips with one warm hand while the other loosely grips his shaft, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds. 

You whine. “Please, Joel.” You’re not above begging when it comes to Joel’s cock.

Joel growls in arousal and begins to feed you his length, inch by inch. You bite your lip, trying to quiet the involuntary moans that the stretch of his girth seem to rip out of your throat. The villa is private, but you still have neighbors - you’d rather not have to face them at the dinner buffet later after they heard exactly how well your honeymoon was going so far.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” Joel praises you, his eyes never leaving how good his length looks sawing in and out of your soft pussy, shiny with your slick. The phrasing makes your cunt clench on him, which nearly shoves him off the proverbial ledge. He throws his head back, attempting to collect himself, and then notices you drawing circles around your aching clit. 

“Desperate to come again already?” he questions, quirking an eyebrow at you. You nod your head, pressing harder and swirling faster around your nub. 

“Then fucking come for your husband,” Joel grits out, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust of his hips. On the last word, you explode yet again, burying your mouth in the crook of your elbow to quiet your cries. Your pussy spasms over his length, nearly sending him over the edge, and you’re absolutely gushing for him, slick and juices running down your thighs.

Joel yanks himself out of your body, not ready to come yet. You cry out in disappointment, but he hauls him and yourself up off the bed.

“Kneel,” he commands. You drop to your knees onto the plush sheepskins rug, legs like jelly already. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, coated with the evidence of your orgasm. Your mouth opens and you drop out your tongue like a welcome mat.

Joel nearly comes at the sight before him.

“Suck,” he says simply. Grabbing your hair into a ponytail, Joel guides your blazing hot mouth onto his shaft, controlling the speed of your blowjob with his hands. He tries to avoid thrusting into your throat too hard, but he knows you like it rough. The taste of your own pussy is all over his dick, and it makes you dizzy with need.

You play the good girl, sucking and licking as directed by Joel’s moans and hand, but soon enough he’s hauling you off your feet to put you back onto the bed. His cock is an angry red color at the tip now, precum continuing to bubble out of the slit. 

“Wanna try out something new,” he mutters, laying you down on your back. He pushes your legs to your shoulders, nearly folding you in half, and guides your hands to the back of your thighs to hold them open. You feel so exposed, but it makes a thrill run up your spine. Joel kneels with his knees just under your ass, leaning over you, before taking his hand and running it through your soaked folds, reveling in the filthy wet sounds your center makes for him. You whine, desperate for more. Joel places your calves on his shoulders as he leans forward, caging you with his body. One hand drops to the bed to steady himself, while the other grabs his cock and lines himself up again.

“Have you ever tried this one?” Joel asks you with a smirk.

You smile wickedly back, knowing what you need to say to egg him on. “Can’t say I have. Wasn’t exactly trying to get bred.”

You see Joel’s eyes flash at the last word, a ferality burning in his irises. A near-snarl erupts from his mouth as he bottoms out in one powerful thrust. A loud moan rips from your throat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, remembering the balcony door is still open. Joel shoves your hand away, grinding deeper into your cunt, brushing against your cervix. You can barely breathe with the intensity of pleasure racing in your veins.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back home, eliciting another loud cry from you. “If you wanna be bred so bad, I’m gonna make everyone at this resort know exactly how much you want it.” With that, Joel sets a punishing pace, his hips and balls slapping against your slick skin. The wet sounds of your mutual pleasure ricochet through the room, and probably outdoors. In this position, all you can do is lay there and moan and cry and take it. Your pussy continues seeping slick, wave after wave running down your ass and thighs, dampening the heavenly bedding.

You’ve never been so fucking wet in your entire life, and Joel knows it.

“God, this pussy is so fucking juicy for me, huh? Just want to get bred that bad, huh?” He mutters to you as he fucks into you so deep that you nearly feel him in your throat. You’ve long since lost your ability to silence your noises, a steady stream of loud gasps and cries emanating from your mouth. Joel just feels so fucking good inside of you, and suddenly you start babbling.

“Yes, baby, I’m so fucking wet for you,” you moan, the pleasure coiling in your bones with every thrust of Joel’s thick girth inside you. “You’re so deep, you fill me so good, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stooooopppppppp –” Your words are cut off by a silent scream as you come for a third time. The pleasure shimmers across your limbs and a shaky moan finally snakes its way out of your throat.

He growls, fucking into you even harder. “Good fucking girl, let me hear you,” Joel grits out. He picks up his pace, clearly getting close to his own orgasm. The increase in speed releases a surprised scream from you, your loud cry stuttering from the sheer force of Joel’s thrusts into you. His hips are a blur, and your third orgasm begins to build into your fourth, the intensity ratcheted to new heights.

“That’s right, scream for me,” he moans, his thrusts getting erratic as his peak approaches. “Want me to fill up this messy pussy, get it even messier? Gonna fuck you so full it has no choice but to take.”

Joel’s words cause a riot of tingles to cascade across your skin. “Yes, please, fuck me full, Joel. Give me your cum, make it stick, give me a baby, please,” you cry, and Joel slaps your ass hard, and you scream again. There’s no doubt that everyone within a mile radius can hear the two of you, but your head is so full of pleasure that you really couldn’t care less. All you can think about is Joel, his cock, and how badly you want to be dripping with his cum.

“Oh god, honey, I’m gonna come,” Joel whimpers, and to send him over the edge, you clench down on his cock as hard as you can. He gasps. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna cooooooo–”

Joel shoves his cock as deeply into you as possible, bellowing loudly in ecstasy, triggering your own orgasm to crest at the same time. His release is so intense that it feels like his hot cum is jettisoning directly into your uterus, filling you to the brim. He pumps shallowly into you, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When the last spurt of his spend lands in your womb, Joel collapses on top of you, rolling you to the side, still buried within your clutch. Your sweat-slick limbs tangle as you both try to catch your breath. The gentle breeze flutters the curtains.

Everything feels hazy and perfect.

Eventually you come to, pressing kisses to Joel’s completely blissed-out face, eliciting a soft smile across his plush lips. You kiss your husband softly, slowly, and sensually. He gives your nose a peck, and then buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.

“Fuck, that was…” Joel starts, lost for words to describe what just happened.

“... incredible,” you finish his sentence, beaming at him. You intertwine your fingers, so elated that Joel is really yours forever.

Joel nods and kisses you one more time, then moves to untangle your aching limbs, massaging your muscles with his strong hands. He pulls out of your messy center slowly with a groan, watching as his cum begins to seep out of you. You watch as he scoops away the runaway seed, pushing it back into your cunt. A brief flush of arousal pulses in your veins at the sight.

“Gotta keep it where it belongs,” Joel croons, winking at you as he walks towards the bathroom to rinse off and grab you a towel. You giggle, moving to prop your legs and hips up on your pillows, allowing his release to pool & settle inside you. The idea of finally having a baby with the love of your life makes your insides flutter with joy.

While you rest, you pull up Snapchat, curious to see what other fellow travelers are up to in the area. You tap around the map, watching stranger’s stories of sailing excursions, lounging on the shore, and eating delicious food. You notice a Snap story in the same vacation complex as your rental, and you tap on it excitedly, hoping to get a sense of some fun things to do in the area.

The video opens up in selfie mode as a blonde, sunglasses-wearing traveler records himself outside on his villa’s patio, laughing quietly and rubbing his arm awkwardly with the caption “Sounds like our new neighbors on holiday in Greece are having a whale of a time… Only been here 10 minutes!” In the background, a woman can be heard screaming with ecstasy, clearly having sex, her voice stuttering as whoever she’s fucking is giving it to her hard. You then hear a slap, then another cry of pleasure.

Wait a minute.

Not a slap… a spank.

Your nerves frost immediately and heat blazes up your neck as your mouth drops open, realizing that the couple having very loud sex… is actually you and Joel.

Oh no. 

...I REALLY should have closed that damn sliding door.

MASTERLIST

Tagging in case you, too, are horny for Joel (please let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tags!): @mermaidgirl30 @sin-djarin @perotovar @qveerthe0ry @nerdieforpedro

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @yxtkiwiyxt @almostempty @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave

@legendary-pink-dot @arcanefox207 @dancingtotuyo @musings-of-a-rose @milla-frenchy

@yopossum @polaroidpascal @chippedowlmug @magneticecstasy @reggiesfilthylittlesecret

[the-kr8tor]

My job caught on fire.

Everything is well 👍✨

We put it out.

Someone threw a cigarette bud in our dry ahh bushes. <3 don't do that kids!

-🪦

Omg that's scary!! I hope no one got hurt

[alfea]

PLEASE go donate some esims if you’re able to

[problemnyatic]

when will we talk about the willful helplessness epidemic on here. So many people on this god forsaken website demand to have any and all things that exist outside their personal experiences directly, personally pre-chewed and spoonfed to them. And when you do, they'll then ask for you to swallow for them, too, because, you see, in THEIR experience..,

[the-kr8tor]

Hehehehe thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hiiii 🤭

Hopping here to request a Reader x Ekko where they're just two love birds and R sneaks into his "office" because she just missed him :( and then one thing leads to another and they're kinda carried away by each other.. that until duty calls up and R watches Ekko switching from loving future husband to the Leader of the Firelights

Love you!!!

Hihihi thank you sm bleaky for the idea!!! Another fic straight from our dms 🤭 I hope you like it, pookie ❤️

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, reader is a childhood friend turned lover, Firelight! Reader, lovestruck! Ekko, no s2 spoiler, cw suggestive, FLUFF!

Navigation

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The hoverboard whirrs softly from under you, with the moonlight peeking through the leaves of the beloved tree, bathing you in its dappled silver glow. The breeze carries ashen smoke amidst the scent of sweet dew filled flowers.

You lean forward slightly, guiding the board gently towards the open window of the tree house where a certain someone is burning the midnight oil on his workbench. You perch yourself over the window, careful not to make any noise as you slither your way inside. Hopefully staying as a surprise for Ekko.

He felt you before he heard your grunt and the unmistakable sound of your head bumping on the windowsill. Smiling tiredly, he twists in his chair to look at you fondly while you cradle your poor head from the recent bump.

“You know I gave you a key for a reason.” You can practically hear his amusement from his tone.

“Where's the fun in that?” You chuckle, palm patting at the blooming headache. “I thought I'd surprise you.”

Ekko roams his eyes over you as your smirk grows wider with every second he ogles you. “I think you forgot the surprise.” He points at your empty hands, tilting his head to the side in case you've got something hidden behind you.

“Ekko, I'm the surprise.” You wink at him, arms raised to your sides in a ‘here I am’ gesture. He shakes his head with a smile, watching you as you saunter towards him. “You should be asleep.” Your hand finds its place on his cheek, he looks up at you, eyes soft under the warm light of the desk lamp. He leans against your touch, lamenting at the way you gently scratch at his nape. “You can do this once you get some rest. Your board will still be here tomorrow.”

He swears he can fall asleep with your tender touch and voice lulling him to slumber. “I can't,” he sighs, reluctantly pulling away from you to return his attention towards his board that glows softly with green light. “we have something planned early tomorrow.”

Your heart softens for him and his determination. “Am I part of that something something?” Sitting down on his desk, far enough to give him space to work but close enough for you to poke his leg with your foot.

“Not this time,” he glances at you, finding you huffing in place as he screws in the blades tightly. “You still got that shoulder thing.”

“This shoulder thing is alright now.” He raises a brow at you, head shaking lightly. You sigh, surrendering. “Fine, it's acting up again, but it's technically better.” Ekko hums in reply, elbow deep inside the hoverboard. “Kind of. Can I at least help? I don't like feeling useless.”

His hand cups your knee, thumbs tracing swirls on your skin. You can feel how warm his hand is from under his glove. “Just sit there and look pretty for me, okay?” Smirking, he pats you once before returning his hand back to his work as you pout and huff at him. “And you're never useless. You're still healing, trouble. I don't want you getting hurt out there because of a busted shoulder.” A flash of you falling off your board with a sickening crunch fills his vision with dread. He turns towards you fully, tapping his wrench on the wooden table, and gentle eyes softening up at your features. “You'll have your time, I promise.”

You nod, watching as the green hue flickers over his concerned face. “Okay, but you owe me.” You cross your leg over the other while he smiles and turns towards his machine again.

“How many IOUs is that now?” He asks, glancing between you and the board.

You nudge him with your foot, “too many, Ekko.” You say his name with a sing-song lilt, effectively taking his attention. “What?” With a teasing smile, he stares at you wordlessly.

“You're distracting me.” His eyes follows the curve of your jaw up to your lips. Heart stuck in his throat, and eyes glued onto the soft skin. He lays his tools down. Abandoning it immediately.

“Oh,” your shoulders slump slightly. “I'll leave, just get some sleep, okay?” Hopping down, Ekko stops you with his hand on your thigh. “You need something?” You place your hand above his own as he squeezes you.

“Yeah, sit back down for me?” He says it seriously, as if he needs to talk to you about something important.

You straighten up, following his instructions. The desk creaks under your form, and as you wait for his very important words, he stands up from his seat, kicking it away before cradling your face gently in his gloved hands. The rough fabric sits on your cheek, but his touch is softer as he gazes at you with those eyes you've always loved ever since you two were still running around playing pretend.

“Now you're the one distracting me.” You whisper, index looping around his overalls to pull him towards you. Placing him in between your legs, as he leans forward with his head tilted slightly to find the perfect angle of your lips. “What were you saying, Ekko?” Teasing, he inhales deeply, lips merely an inch from your own.

“Let me…?” He says before you crash your lips against his own, answering his cut off question. Your eyes close as he smiles, mirroring your expression. You both kiss in sync, hearts beating in the same pace.

You hear him chuckle softly as your lips fall into a medley of rhythm with his desperate kisses. The kiss runs deep and long, teeth clashing, noses meeting, and hands caressing every angle of you as your own hands roam up his bare and lean arms, until you find penchant on the back of his head. Fingers weaved around his hair, not pulling away, no, pushing him further against you as the air grows hotter around you with every breath you take.

You're home in his arms. And all you can think about is him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against your slightly agaped lips, leaning away for a moment to take in air and to remove his gloves to feel you fully.

You stare at him through half lidded eyes, cheeks searing hot and stomach throbbing with ache. “Yeah...” Your voice is shaky at best, legs wrapping around him whilst your chest heaves.

Just as you say it, he meets with your lips once again, taking your breath away as you give it willingly. This time it's softer and gentler as he kisses you tenderly. Your head hits the wall with how much he's kissing you, so with his palm sliding behind your head, he cushions you from the blow as he continues to kiss you fervently as if he hasn't gotten a taste of you in years.

“Ekko.” You sigh out as he kisses the curve of your lips, tracing its shape with his own. “Ekko.” Your tone grows breathlessly as he slowly makes his way towards your throat. “Ekko—” His lips were just about meeting with your warm skin when a knock interrupts you both. “Shit.”

“Damn it.” He murmurs, chest heaving, pupils blown out as he gives you one quick kiss against the side of your neck. Definitely not the final one.

You pat his cheek with a lopsided smile, thumb brushing along his kiss bitten lips, wiping away the sheen you've left. Ekko pecks your thumb before moving away from you. He fixes your rumpled shirt, just as you notice that you've smudged the white hourglass paint on his face. Whoops.

“Ekko, you've got…” you gesture towards his nose, trying to tamp down your laughter.

His blown out eyes widens, lungs still trying to intake oxygen from the strenuous activity. His nose scrunches up when he sees you having the same smudged paint on your face. Smile tamped down by biting his lip.

He looks behind you, where a small mirror is hanging just beside your head. He sees himself looking disheveled, hair sticking all over the place, face paint smudged into an odd shape.

Chuckling, the knocking grows louder. “I've got you, don't worry. I won't let your reputation get tarnished.” You take a handkerchief from your pocket, effectively wiping away the smudged mess on his face as much as you can.

“Did you get it?” He's still breathless when he asked.

“And…there. I've got them all.” You get a thankful peck on your cheek for a job well done.

But before he could move away from you, he takes the handkerchief in his hand to wipe at your (his) own smudged face paint. He tucks the fabric away in his pocket, maybe you'll come looking for it one day, effectively giving you an excuse to come visit him sooner rather than later.

Ekko now moves away, clearing his throat but the evidence of your shared previous activity is still evident on how much he inhales and how his hands are so clammy that he can water the tree with the sweat on his palms.

“C–come in.” He curses under his breath at how his voice cracked at the start. The door squeaks open, revealing his right hand man, Scar, waiting at the doorway.

His golden eyes glance at you, Ekko hides your equally disheveled form with his body, blocking your obviously kissed lips and your rumpled clothes. Scar raises a knowing brow, eyes speaking a thousand words.

“Hi, Y/N.” He says gruffly, lips subtly curled into a smirk. You wave shyly above Ekko, afraid that you'd let out incoherent words while you're still reeling from his warmth. “I can come back later.”

Ekko’s seriously considering it. “Is it important?”

“Everything's important with you Ekko.” Scar's eyes turn towards you with the word ‘important.’

Ekko sighs, slightly disappointed. “Right, what happened?”

His whole demeanor changes into what most people would think when they hear about the notorious leader of the firelights. His posture straightens up, and the air around him oozes authority. The man in front of you isn't just Ekko, your love and confidant, he's Ekko, the feared leader of the firelights, and the boy saviour. But you can still see his previous sweetness from how his eyes still smile when he remembers your soft lips upon his own. He's still your Ekko through and through.

“It's the chem barons, they blew out an entire building.” Scar briefs him, and you read the room as their conversation grows more serious.

If you listen to any more, you'd want to join in so you decide to leave before you could give your two cents like always. Ekko was right, your shoulder wouldn't help much with a full blown fight. So you're just gonna stay away, for now at least, until you're fully healed to be of help. For his sanity and your wellbeing.

You take a deep breath, still heaving from his kisses, hopping down from the table even with your wobbly legs. Ekko looks at you in the middle of the conversation, hand reaching out in case you fall down. Scar watches with amusement at the scene in front of him.

“I'm good,” you say quietly only for Ekko to hear. “We'll continue this later, okay?” You say louder this time for both of them to hear. With a wink, and a hand grazing his back, you leave him standing there, aghast at what you've blatantly said.

His own mind betrays him at how *later could go. Ekko has to hold onto the chair next to him to stabilize himself lest he melts in front of Scar, who's absolutely trying to reel his laughter in that he's about to pop a vein on his forehead from how hard he's trying.

As you close the door behind you, you hear his booming laughter and Ekko's unmistakable groaning behind the door.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[fairydriver]

if you post an image in discord itll round the corners, but once you hit a certain smallness it rounds into a circle. so basically if you make an image that is 32x32 and you post it in discord itll go from this

to this.

so you basically can just draw a little face in mspaint or something and paste it into discord and itll look like a little emoji. you can potentially mess around with this a lot, its proportional to your image going smaller and it doesnt have to be a square either.

[psychotic-tbh]

This is so cool !!! :D I hope it works out

Man, how come no one's doing anything about the cognitive symptoms of schizophrenia... its all just: psychosis, psychosis, psychosis. I want to function thank you. Psychosis for me is not the worst part (probably because of my antipsychotics) but yeah I want the equivalent of adhd medication but for the cognitive symptoms of schizophrenia.

[snaxle]

yo mr white i think im a bi lesbian bitch