#reblog reply

[psychotic-tbh]

I’m glad I could help! :D

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, immature, 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

[shilo-sumac]

Of Troy?

Paris Of Friend

[smartestmaningotham]

@arkhambird

Hullo nigma

Todd. Long time, no see.

[pellucid-constellations]

That’s my fave part to write 😌 gotta keep you guessing (especially because that hurts more hehe) thank you for reading 🫶🫶

Creature Fear

And if had been clean, if there had been no strings between you, this would have been easy. But, with Azriel, you had never expected the strings to disappear. They would always be there—at least, they would for you.

An angsty piece inspired by Creature Fear by Bon Iver (2.3k words)

~~

With another kick slamming into the muscle along the Shadowsinger’s thigh, you heaved in a breath that assaulted your lungs. It burned and tasted of iron as you panted, but that was simply the natural flow of training.

This was fine. 

Everything was fine. 

You weren’t picturing Azriel with his hands on her waist, swaying to the rhythm of a song you couldn’t recall. You weren’t replaying how his lips touched her ear or how his fingers tilted her jaw to the side. No part of your brain was rehashing the smile she sent him, an expression given just moments before he led her out of Rita’s. 

No, you weren’t thinking of the events the night prior as you swung at the man before you. 

He ducked—a pity, really. 

“Something on your mind?” Azriel asked, words rushed as he moved around your attempted hits. 

You grunted. “No. I’m training. That’s why you dragged me out here.” 

“Right.” 

Another jab at his face. He dodged it. You used your leg to sweep at his ankles. 

“Are you even going to try?” you goaded, frustration creeping into your tone. 

Azriel hopped back in the ring, but when you only followed his escape, he released an impatient sigh and grabbed at your shoulders, flipping you until your back met the ground with a soft groan. 

“What’s the matter?” he huffed out above you. “You’re antsy. Your moves are sloppy and you really seem to want to hit me.” 

“I have hit you.” 

“Y/n,” Azriel warned. 

You ticked your jaw to the side, still out of breath as his chest pressed to yours. This was not an unusual position for the two of you. In fact, it was a position you had found yourself in just last week, only there was far less anger and far more pillows. And it had been dark—quite romantic if anyone had asked you, but no one was asking you. 

Because the relationship between you and the Shadowsinger was not public knowledge, and it certainly was not exclusive. No strings, Azriel had said against your mouth when you had come together the first time. And then it was we’re just blowing off steam and only one more time and we can’t tell anyone. It was unclear why Azriel needed a concrete reason to sleep with you each time he did it, but the underlying message was clear: you were not in a relationship. 

It was just sex. 

And sure, that was fine the first time—maybe even the second and third. But you had been lying to yourself when you agreed to the arrangement in between heavy breaths and rushed fingers. Azriel was not something you could do halfway, and you knew that from the start. You’d been half in love with him from the moment you met him. This had only been the nail in the coffin. 

“Get off of me,” you demanded with forearms pressing into Azriel’s chest. 

He was unrelenting. “No. Tell me what’s wrong with you.” 

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re crushing my ribs. Get off.” 

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, luckily, believing me has nothing to do with your ability to get off of me.” 

Azriel traced his eyes along each dip and high point of your face with a scrutinizing gaze before he finally heaved himself up, landing in a seat beside you. You sucked in a dramatic breath and propped yourself up on your palms. 

“Is it something to do with the information Rhys is having you decode?” Azriel asked, tucking his knee in the crook of his elbow. 

The side of your mouth twitched as heat licked up your throat. “No. Azriel, I told you everything’s fine. I was just trying something new Cassian wanted me to practice.” 

“Cassian wanted you to practice being reckless and untrained?” 

“That was incredibly rude.” 

Azriel breathed out a semblance of a laugh. You heard his wings shift as you kept your eyes trained on the floor, but that reprieve was short-lived as a hand met the curve of your jaw. Azriel pressed at the skin there until your gaze was level with his, and then he continued his search.

You humored him—for a moment—allowing your friend to furrow his brows at the distance you were trying to create between the two of you. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Azriel, noth—” 

“Stop lying to me,” he interrupted, sliding his hand back until his fingers wove into the hair at the base of your neck. “I know you. Something’s wrong.” 

Your chest was beginning to feel fuzzy and the heat in your throat had melted into a blissful warmth. It was always so easy to be around Azriel, and it would be just as easy to lean forward and whisper that against his lips. Since that line had been crossed all those months ago, you had been tempted to take what you wanted several times. 

But those liberties were only afforded to you in the dark aperture that was Azriel’s room. He only touched you like this when no one else was around, saving the gentleness of his fingers in the public eye for strangers in pleasure halls and nightclubs. 

You were nothing like the girl he took home the night before. She had probably woken with him wrapped in orange morning light when you were always scampering away in the bleak blues and greys that made up the middle of the night. She was probably soft and delicate and not training for battle at the crack of dawn. 

No, to Azriel, you were only a friend and you were convenient. 

You knocked his hand away. “I told you I’m fine, Azriel. I’m just having an off day. Leave it alone.” 

Azriel, who had flinched when the back of your hand met his arm, opened his mouth to speak without sound to follow. You were already on your feet by the time he could have formulated a response.

~~

You hadn’t spoken to him in three days. 

Three days of avoiding every room he frequented. Three days of avoiding his shadows as they attempted to beckon you to the training ring, the kitchens, and the balcony where he would inevitably get you to go into town with him. Three days of driving yourself insane. 

This was always going to end poorly, but you hadn’t expected you to feel so angry. Hurt, yes, but anger was not something typically in your repertoire—especially not associated with Azriel. 

The way he touched that woman played on a loop in your mind, reminding you how it had been so easy for him to do that in front of so many eyes. That, unlike you, there was no shame accompanied by his lazy fingers. He had touched you with those same hands, with that same tenderness, just the morning after—but no one was around to see it. 

It did hurt, but it was also infuriating. 

Maybe the angry heat was just a placeholder for the pain, something easier to digest, but you didn’t care to parse out the origin.

On the fourth day of stewing in your frustration, you were ending the night in bed with a candle and a book you could hardly focus on, reading and then rereading the same page as your jaw sat sewn together. 

The knock on your door was unexpected and unwelcomed

You didn’t have it in you to speak to him. 

You opened the door despite that. 

The man on the other side looked shocked for a moment, blinking as the wind from your arrival hit his eyes, and then he looked restless, bringing his hands up as if you were about to slam the door in his face. 

“Can I come in?” he asked, eyes darting over your shoulder to your bedroom and then back to you. “I know you’re avoiding me. I miss you. Let me come in.” 

“I’m not—” 

“Please, y/n.” 

His tone, rushed and panicked, made your brows come together. You opened the door a fraction wider to let him in. He stepped forward three times and then remained in place as you turned to close the door behind you. When you turned to face him once more, your senses were overwhelmed. 

Your back was pressed to the wood and familiar hands pressed divots into the skin of your waist. Azriel was kissing you—not hurried as he usually was when you met for these reasons, but almost savoring the feel of you against him. In your shock, your hands had landed on his chest, fisting his sweater between your fingers. Having him here, like this, distracted you for a moment. 

It felt natural. 

It was good. 

When Azriel deepened the kiss, you snapped back to your anger, remembering the sly way he had guided that woman out of Rita’s. You flattened your palms against his chest and pushed, hard. The Shadowsinger stumbled back with wild eyes, and it was then you saw the state of him. His rumpled clothes and the way his hair stood up as if he’d been running his fingers through it. The rings he typically wore were each missing from his fingers and he was completely unarmed, not even the Truthteller strapped at his hip. 

“I—I shouldn’t have done that,” Azriel spoke, clearing his throat as he ran his hand along his jaw. “You’re angry at me. I came in here to ask—I wanted to make it right. I didn’t mean to—” 

“Azriel, stop. I’m not angry at you.” A lie. You were angry at him, but there were no grounds to be. You straightened out your posture and fixed your nightgown where he had wrinkled it with his fingers. “We don’t… do it this way. I come to your room.” 

“I haven’t seen you in four days,” Azriel reasoned. “I miss you. I said that.” 

You ground your teeth together, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m sure I’m not the only woman in Velaris that could warm your bed.” 

Azriel stuttered over his words before replying, “That’s not what I meant. You’re—You are my friend and I miss you because you have gone to lengths to avoid me. I would like to know why.” 

Your gaze flashed up at the crack in his voice. He stood with his palms open to you, his arms hanging by his sides. 

“Friends don’t do what we were doing. Things are different between us now, Azriel.” 

“They don’t have to be. We agreed—no strings.” 

Anger grew and festered. They don’t have to change because he wouldn’t want them to. He would want a woman like the one at the pleasure hall. He would want anyone but you. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling equal parts unfair and justified. “Because the world works exactly how you want it to, doesn’t it, Azriel?” 

He paused, his pleading expressed now dumbfounded. “What?” 

“You just get to have your pick of women each night and if none of them work out you know I’ll be waiting at home for you? That your friend will be available if all of the women you’ll actually acknowledge in front of our family aren’t interested?” 

“No, I—” 

“I’m not some backup plan, Azirel. What, no one else available tonight? Did you happen to round on the Archeron sisters as well? I’m last again, right?” 

As the words spewed from your mouth, you knew you would come to regret them. Azriel looked more and more confused and affronted at each accusation you made, but this was easier than crying and professing your love. Azriel had said no strings attached, and if you couldn’t avoid love, he would have to deal with anger. That was an easier string to sever.

“We’re stopping this, if that wasn’t obvious.” 

Azriel’s breath seemed to escape his lungs in one fell swoop. He took a step forward and shook his head. “Is this about that night at Rita’s? Y/n, I would never have—” 

“No, you said no strings, right?” you bit out. “So you’re allowed to do whatever and whoever you want. This has nothing to do with that. I’m just… I’m just done.”

Gods, you weren’t making sense. Why had he kissed you when he walked in? You felt like you were going to cry and that was not something you wanted to do in front of him. “Okay, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Azriel almost begged. He looked ruined and so tired. “We can go back to how it was before.” The prospect seemed to pain him. “Just—tell me how to fix this between us. I can’t… lose you. Not to this.” 

“There’s nothing to fix,” you lied. “Let’s just—let’s just stop.” 

“Okay. Okay, we can stop and—” 

“And you need to get out.” 

Azriel blinked at you, brows furrowed. “But we still—Y/n, I want to talk about this.” 

There was an incongruence in the way he was looking at you. If it had just been about sex, this would have been simple, clean. For you, it would have hurt, but for Azriel, it would have been a small variable being removed. But he was looking at you as if the world was ending, and you couldn't comprehend that. 

He had been holding another woman earlier this week. 

His hands twitched now. 

He needed to leave before you cried.

“Get out, Azriel.”

[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

[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*

[thought--bubble]

🤣🤣 me too! Thanks for reading!

She Brings The Darkness Pt. 2/2

Michael Gavey X (Goth Classmate Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1869

She Brings The Darkness Masterlist

Michael Gavey Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners & Dividers by @arcielee

A/N: This was the winner of the 300 followers vote! Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy! It was fun to see what you all wanted more of. Plus my bad for not getting this out before starting the next vote LMAO the timing was weird.

This is the sequel to THIS

Warnings: Swearing, Unprotected PinV Sex, Oral female Receiving. a little bit subby Michael, Whining Michael, Whimpering Michael.

Since your little rendezvous in the library, things had gone back to normal. You were yet again invisible, and Michael avoided looking at you at all costs.

You fight with yourself constantly. You had wanted Michael to leave you alone. That was the entire point, but now that he was, it was driving you crazy.

You find yourself seeking him out, in the library, the courtyard anywhere, really. Boring holes into the side of his head or back of his head willing him to look at you, yet he never does.

"Why am I like this?" You huff to yourself after yet again staring at Michael as he walked through the courtyard. "I am actually chasing Michael fucking Gavey" You rub your hands over your eyes and sigh.

Yet when your feet start moving again, they follow the path set forth by Michael. You can't seem to stop yourself from seeking him out.

When you round the corner, you smash directly into the cause of your ire.

"Why are you following me?" He asks sharply. "I was under the impression we came to an agreement."

You stare back at him speechless. He's right. What do you even say in this situation?

"I .... I ... ummm, " You scramble for words inside your head, but any sensical excuse seems to allude you.

Michael smirks as you stammer. "You don't want me to leave you alone now, do you?" He steps closer to you and tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your eyes. The eyes that were currently avoiding him.

"Hmmmm... seems I may have you hooked. " He chuckles.

Cockyness doesn't suit him, you think, or maybe it does?

"No. I'm not hooked on anything!" You protest with a little too much enthusiasm.

He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. "I've seen you outside of my dorm. Clearly, you know where it is. Meet me there tonight." Michael turns from you and walks away quickly out of sight as you stand there bewildered.

What the fuck just happened?

Michael walks away from you with a cocky stride, yet the moment he is out of view, he wipes his palms on his trousers and shudders.

"What am I to do if she actually shows up?"

The whole thing was his brother's idea. He had called him explaining what had happened between the two of you in the library and your subsequent behavior.

"She wants the dick Michael" His brother had said while laughing. "Give it to her."

It all seemed so easy when talking about it jovially on the phone but actually going through with it? That is an entirely different matter.

Michael was no virgin, thanks to the kindness of a sweet girl at his secondary school who wanted to get back at her cheating boyfriend, but he was far from experienced.

He had gone out and purchased condoms. Cleaned his dormroom and knew his roommate would be out tonight.

Everything is in place. Now he just has to wait and see if you actually show up.

Back in your dorm, you are in turmoil. Do you go?

You decide to go and convince yourself it is for one reason. To get the power back. Somehow, the power has shifted to Michael, and you can't have that.

So you rummage around your closet. The outfit needs to be sexier than last time. You don't want him to sweat, you want him to pass the fuck out. Forget maths. Something extreme. Something to tip the power back into your hands.

You pull out a red and black pleated miniskirt to match the red lacey bra and thong you already chose. With a silky red corset top.

This should do it. You choose a pair of black fishnet thigh highs with little red bows on the bands and strap up your docs.

You fix yourself up in the mirror and giggle, "Michael Gavey prepare to grovel."

You arrive outside his dorm room and stop at the door.

"Knock." You tell yourself, yet your hand doesn't move. "Fuckin knock!"

The door opens, and Michael looks at you with a curious expression and a half smile. "Having trouble then?" He opens the door wider to let you in.

You grit your teeth. Embarrassing yourself before you even stepped foot in the room was not part of the game plan.

"Michael." You turn to look at him attempting to put on your most seductive face.

He falters briefly, swallowing loudly before righting himself and falling back into the cocky boy persona.

It's a battle of wills.

"So why did you want me to come here?" You play with the collar of his shirt, bringing your fingers dangerously close to his neck. You can see the goosebumps cross his skin, but he plays it off so well.

"So we can discuss the ....... situation we have going on. " You cringe as he uses the same words you used in the library. This is as much a game of wits as it is wills, and you may be outmatched.

When he looks at you with another cocky smirk, a smirk that says, "I win." You decided to go with your last move. Your fatality move.

You move toward Michael, quickly wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull his face towards yours, kissing him harshly. He freezes for just a moment before he starts to kiss you back, the mashing of tongues and lips messy and arousing.

This was not the plan. It was better than the plan. You push him back by the shoulders toward his bed. You know if you get him on that bed with you on top, you have him. He will melt just like last time.

He allows you to push him back on the bed, wrapping his arm around your back to pull you down with him. Your lips staying connected.

You crawl up onto him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips. He pulls back briefly and chuckles before gripping your back tightly and rolling you both over, pinning you beneath him.

"Not this time" He growls before he bites into your neck pressing his hardening cock up against your heat only his trousers and your thong separating the two.

You gasp as you feel his teeth tugging at the sensitive skin of your neck, ripples of pleasure traveling down your spine.

"Fuck Michael" You moan the words overwhelmed by the shock of his aggression and the pleasure he is making you feel.

"I got more," He mumbles as he starts kissing down onto your chest, unclasping the hooks on the corset. He gazes down at your half-naked form with a gleam in his eye. "So this is what you've been hiding under all those baggy clothes"

As he makes his way down to your skirt, you lift up your hips. "No, this we are gonna keep on." He pushes your hips back down onto the bed and pushes your skirt up.

You feel heat pooling in your stomach, traveling down to your core. How are you this turned on by Michael fucking Gavey?

He pushes your thighs apart and looks at your cunt. "Fucking brilliant" Is all he says before he shoves his head between your legs pulling your thong to the side and lapping directly at your clit.

"Oh fuck!" You whine at the sudden sensation.

He reacts to your whines with moans of his own as he continues to lick and suck at your pearl. Your hands travel down to his head gripping his hair and rutting your pussy against his face.

It feels too good and you need more pressure. You're sure you are suffocating him, but you don't care.

"Just like that, just like that." You whimper your legs, clamping around his head. "Fuck, right there, right there!" You arch your back as your climax tears through you, Michael continuing to lap at your folds as you ride out your high.

"Too much, too much." You whine afterward, pushing his head away.

He stands up a little dazed, face glistening with the proof of your arousal.

"Come here." You gesture for him to again join you on the bed, and he quickly obliges, crawling onto your body and slotting himself between your thighs.

When he brings his lips back down upon yours, you can taste yourself, and it only serves to increase your arousal. "Take those off," you whisper, tugging at the waistband of his trousers.

He quickly shuffles them off before turning to pull a box of condoms out of his bedside drawer.

"I'm clean and on birth control." You pull him back towards you. "Let me feel you."

He speechlessly nods at you, eyes half lidded, like he's in a trance.

You spread your legs wider for him.

"Fuck I... I really didn't expect it to get this far" he mutters more to himself than to you.

You can't help but giggle before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him towards you. "Hurry up and fuck me Michael Gavey"

"uhhh .... yeah..... fuck yeah" He leans forward again nipping at the skin of your neck before pressing the head of his cock against your entrance.

"Fucccccccck," He moans as he starts to push into you, feeling the warmth and wetness surround him.

You grip his hips, pulling him forward, digging your nails into his soft, tender flesh.

"I said fuck me Michael." You growl biting down harshly on his bottom lip.

"Yes," He whimpers as he starts to rut into you, quickening his pace. "So good... so good, " He mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You feel the heat start to pool in the base of your stomach and dig your nails into his back. "Harder Michael" You demand.

He ruts into you harder and whines. "Oh god, oh god"

You feel him batter the spongey spot inside of you and arch your back, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. "Faster"

"Oh shit, oh shit." He moves faster, and his legs start to tremble at the sheer force he is using. "I'm not gonna make it, fuck I-" He groans loudly. "Oh God"

"Not yet, Michael. Don't you dare." You dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder. "You cum when I say so"

He nods furiously. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He pants heavily and whines into the crook of your neck.

You clench your legs tightly around him as you are overcome by your climax. "Fuckkkk, good boy!"

"Please, please." He pants and whimpers.

"Just a little longer." You pull his face towards you and gently kiss him as he whimpers into your mouth. You smile at the thought that you were able to get the power back.

"Cum Michael, you can cum now"

He yells out as he grips your hips tightly rutting into you roughly a few more times before his entire body stiffens and he gasps. "Thank you, Thank you"

He collapses on top of you resting his forehead against your chest, as you stroke his hair.

"Shhh Michael, shh," you coo as he pants into your chest.

"You're mine now"

To be added to taglists please click HERE

[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)

[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]

Hehehe thank you pookie!! Oop tag me in it so I could read! (Or see it if it's one of your gorgeous art 😍)

Yk what I think would be really cute. Hobie with a florist reader. Hobie’s a street performer who finds his little spot right outside readers shop. He sees reader come every early morning to open her shop and how she closes it every night. He needs to talk to her🙏🙏🙏

Thank you for this cute prompt! I hope you like it ❤️😊

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

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW injury, shy! Reader, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff!

Navigation

Hobie's soulful song echoes during the early mornings until night falls. Every other week you see him strum the same cherry red guitar right outside your shop for almost two years now. You greet him whenever you open your little corner flower shop, and you murmur a shy goodbye to him every night when it's time to close for the day. And without fail, he always asks you for permission to play in front of your shop, and without a second thought, you always say yes.

Throughout your day, he stands there right outside your window, singing and performing to his heart's content. Sometimes you think he does it just for the love of performing, one day you'll ask him. But for now, you'll gladly toss him a few quid here and there whenever you go out to water the flowers displayed outside. It's your way of saying thank you for always helping you take out the pots from inside and carry deliveries for you even though you haven't asked him to do so. And you always hand him a cup of coffee straight from your own coffee pot, you always tell him that you made too much for today, an excuse to casually converse with the handsome punk.

Hobie always sees you open the shop thirty minutes early, always humming a soft tune as you carry bundles of sweet smelling flowers. He thinks you're as pretty as the flowers you sell, much sweeter too as you always make time to greet him bashfully. The coffees and occasional pastries you hand him with a gentle smile are always a highlight of his day. One day he'll talk to you, not the casual conversation of ‘how was your weekend?’ or ‘how’s business?’ but an actual conversation that he hopes would blossom to a friendship, or maybe more as he glances at you from his usual spot whilst you're watering your flowers that are on display.

“Is that new?” He asks, interrupting your soft humming. “The gardenias, they look a bit different, innit?”

Your smile brightens up the whole street. “You noticed! it's a new type.” Pointing daintily at the petal, you beam at Hobie, finding that he's already smiling at you, his hands paused from playing his music. “See, the petals are bigger than the usual ones, and they smell sweeter too.” Plucking one, you purse your lips together at what you're about to do.

You cross the distance towards him, handing Hobie the flower as you shyly look at him through your lashes. “Here.”

Hobie grins, hands suddenly clammy as he looks into your eyes. “It's mine?”

“Yeah, it's a gift, Hobie.” Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest.

“Thank you, love.” Plucking the flower from your grasp, his warm hand lingers briefly against your own. He has decided that he's going to make a move when you close the shop later. Bringing the flower to his face, he lets the sweet scent waft over his nose. “You're right, it's as sweet as you.”

You chuckle, face warming up from his comment. “Thanks, Hobie.” Without thinking, you nudge his shoulder with your fist, like a guy joking with his mate. You internally cringe to oblivion. “I–I gotta head back.”

Hobie can't help the grin on his lips, absolutely endeared by you. “Sure, love.”

You bounce nervously on the balls of your feet, before heading back inside. “right, bye.

Then, his spidey senses suddenly kick in, sending his adrenaline into overdrive. “Shit, not on my day off.” He guesses that the spider band needs his help. Tucking the flower inside his vest pocket, and with one last look at you through the window, he bolts off into an alleyway.

—

Your hands play with a silky ribbon, rolling it around your fingers then unraveling it again. You're bored out of your mind, all the orders for today have been sent out, and your duties all checked. As you stare out into the distance, elbow perched atop the counter and looking at the same spot Hobie's supposed to be in, you wonder where he went. You saw him sprint off an hour ago, maybe there's an emergency? You're starting to worry that he's not alright or having an awful day.

Placing your chin atop your palms, you watch people pass by the shop, hoping that something happens or you'll die of boredom. Then you see it, a red and blue flash coming straight at you.

Eyes widening, it gets bigger and bigger. You duck under the counter with a yelp. Glass shatters and bursts into the tiny shop, sending shards to clatter around you.

“Wanker!” You hear a curse from behind the counter.

Peeking over, you see someone lying down on the floor, groaning and cradling his shoulder. Realization hits you when you recognize him as the same masked vigilante you keep seeing on the news.

“Spider-Man?” You mumble, legs wobbly from anxiety. “Are you okay?” He freezes in place, shoulders stiff as he slowly looks over his shoulder. “Are you in shock?” With a bit of courage, you dredge through the broken glass to walk over to him. “I have some bandages, but I don't know if that'll help much.” Wringing your hands together, you see the eyes of his mask widen.

“Lo—” he clamps his mouth shut, leaping back to his feet within a split second. Clearing his throat, he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Are you alright?”

His voice is much more high pitched than you thought it would be. And he's taller in person too, just like someone else you know.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I ducked.” The awkwardness permeates through the air of your broken down shop. “I can't say the same thing for my shop though.”

“Shit,” He lifts a foot up after noticing that he's stepping on a rose. “Sorry, I'll— fuck, I'm sorry.” His gloved hands hover around you, not knowing if he should comfort you with a hug or leave you alone.

You sniff, eyes tearfully looking at your ruined hard work. Putting on a brave face, you smile at him. “I–It's okay, I have insurance.”

“I—” A roar echoes from somewhere, interrupting him. “It's the lizard, I have to…” he points at the green smoke billowing out from the rooftops a few ways ahead.

“Okay,” you nod, smiling nervously at the vigilante. “Be careful, Spider-Man.”

He takes a step forward, but then goes back to face you. “I'll come back and help fix this.”

“You really don't have to.” You wave your palms in front of you, then you unexpectedly take his hand, squeezing it once as you give him your sweetest smile. He smells weirdly of gardenias, it has you smiling even more. “Just beat the crap out of the lizard for me.”

Chuckling, he squeezes you back before reluctantly letting go. Who knew that his other persona would get to hold your hand before his civilian self did. “I will, for you.” Raising his hand, he swings away.

Looking around your shop, you should've been careful of what you wished for. You're just glad that Hobie left before this all happened, or he might've been caught in the crossfire. As you grab a broom, you start your clean-up while you dial your insurance company. You're sure that you availed the villain slash hero accident in the insurance.

—

The sun is just about to set when you finally got to talk to an insurance agent about your predicament. Sighing, there's still so many shards of glass on the floor, not to mention all the crushed flowers and broken flower pots that are scattered all over the shop. Your cleanup wasn't very effective since it's just you and a single broom. With a sigh, you grab the broom again, sweeping relentlessly as the breeze passes by the broken windows. You definitely need something to cover it up.

As you sweep, you spot a familiar pair of boots coming your way from your peripheral. You crane your neck, sighing in relief when you see Hobie trying to catch his breath.

“Hobie.” You beam at him, and he smiles back, hands reaching for you. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard.” He grasps at your elbow, calloused fingers squeezing you lovingly, heart aching at the state of your flower shop. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I'm fine.” You hold onto the top of his hand, thumb brushing along a bandaid on the side of his palm. Looking down, you see a dozen or so bandaids on his arms and hands. “Shit, did you get caught in the fight?” Taking his palms, you worriedly glance all over his tiny cuts.

Hobie chuckles, shaking his head as he makes you look at him with his index lifting up your chin. “I'm good, love.” He pats at his leather vest, where the gardenia you gave him rests. It's a bit beaten up from the looks of it, but it's fully intact. “My lucky charm saved me.”

Exhaling from the relief, you haven't noticed that you're still holding onto his hand. “I'm glad my flower protected you.”

“I heard it's a new kind of gardenia.”

“Capable of saving you, I heard.”

The two of you stare at each other under the glow of the sunset, savouring the peaceful moment.

Numerous footsteps suddenly come your way, prompting you to look at the group of punks smiling at you while holding onto cleaning supplies and the biggest tarp you've ever seen.

“I also heard that you need help cleanin’ up. Brought some extra hands.”

[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

[butchbait4butch]

hey transfems, i don't know which of you need to hear this but it's okay to never use your penis during sex if you don't want to. it's okay to tell your partner not to touch it, to ignore it even, and hold them to respecting that boundary, no matter how many times you've had sex with them, or even if you've had sex with them with your penis involved.

you're not weird or broken for having needs or having boundaries, and you deserve lovers who respect those needs and boundaries. as someone who knows first hand, it's not worth it not to speak up.

this is a post for bottoms, switches, and tops. for subs or dom/mes. for anyone who feels like their no will go unheard or that the only reason people are sexually interested in you are those who want a woman with a dick. i promise you there are people who are out there who will listen, who will get you, and who will treat you how you deserve.

in fact? that's the absolute base line that anyone deserves during sex, and you deserve that and so much more.

[alfea]

PLEASE go donate some esims if you’re able to

[liaromancewriter]

Thanks for reading! Glad you enjoyed it.

Winter Wonderland

Premise: Cassie and Ethan enjoy the holiday decorations around town, leading to a candid conversation about their relationship.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,475

A/N: This is set during the Secret Dating phase in Lia Land. Submission for @choicesholidays Winter 2024 and @choicesjanuary2025 prompt "hot chocolate:

Cassie Valentine discreetly glanced at her wristwatch beneath the table, wondering if there was still a chance to salvage her evening plans.

She had already changed into street clothes an hour ago and was ready to clock out when she received a page to report to the Diagnostics Team office. Dr. Ramsey had been clear from the start. The team’s schedule was unpredictable, and all members had to forego time off as needed.

As the latest and the most junior member, Cassie had to flex more than others since she was juggling a tough residency and diagnostics fellowship. Still, there was an upside to all the time spent at work—she got to do it with her boyfriend.

Not that anyone else knew the delectable Ethan Ramsey was hers, she mused with secret amusement. She knew, and that was all that mattered.

She side-eyed Ethan at the front of the conference table, facing the videoconference screen she hadn’t known existed until today. His eyes were alive with curiosity and interest as they consulted with a colleague in California. The virtual consult would determine if the team was required on-site for the diagnosis.

Cassie wouldn’t mind a couple of days of sunshine. Winter had Boston firmly in its grip. Of course, there was something magical about walking through a winter wonderland during the holiday season. Twinkling lights strung on palm trees didn’t have the same appeal as snow-dusted oak trees.

“Thank you, Dr. Amherst. We’ll review the patient file and get back to you tomorrow.”

Ethan wrapped up the call, and Cassie refocused her attention on the job at hand. She really hoped tomorrow didn’t mean they would be working late into the night. But, with this team, you never knew.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Baz said, stretching his arms, “but I could use a break before we work on the diagnosis.”

“I agree,” June said. “I’d rather come in early and approach the case with fresh eyes.”

Cassie held her breath in anticipation. Ethan seemed to hesitate, but then he nodded in agreement.

“Let’s pick this up tomorrow morning. Not much else we can do today.”

Baz and June wasted no time gathering their things and heading out. Cassie wasn’t far behind, but she stopped when she saw Ethan sit down at his desk and flip open the patient file.

“It’s late, Ethan,” she said, not hiding her exasperation. “Are you really planning to keep working?”

“I just want to go over things while they’re still fresh in my mind,” he said, sliding on his glasses.

He looked up at her. “Go home, Cassie. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going home,” she said, settling into the seat across from him. “I’m heading to Faneuil Hall to check out the Christmas tree and holiday decorations. Come with me.”

Ethan smirked, amused. “Isn’t that for tourists?”

“And for doctors who’ve spent fourteen-plus hours in a space that smells like antiseptic. I went last year, and it was nice.”

He rolled his eyes. “I see those decorations every day on my way to work. I’ll pass.”

“Fine,” Cassie said, pulling out her phone. “If you change your mind, you’ll know where to find me.”

When his phone pinged, Ethan glanced at the screen. “What’s this?”

“I just shared my location with you,” she explained. “I’ll keep it on until I get home.”

Almost ten minutes later, Cassie stepped out of the car, thanked her rideshare driver, and drew in a deep breath of the crisp evening air.

Just what I needed, she thought, feeling the tiredness fade away.

The scent of roasted chestnuts and pine mingled with the faint melody of holiday carolers stationed near Quincy Market. Strings of twinkling white and multicolored lights wound their way around the lampposts and tree trunks, casting a soft glow on the historic architecture.

Huddled inside her thick parka, Cassie trekked down the cobblestone streets, her boots crunching softly against the uneven stones as she admired the holiday wreaths adorning shop doors, their vibrant ribbons fluttering in the brisk evening breeze.

Tourists exclaimed excitedly at storefronts showcasing meticulously arranged scenes of snow-covered villages, glittering ornaments and festive garlands. Meanwhile, hardy Bostonians paid no mind to the spectacle, staying laser-focused on their holiday shopping lists.

Cassie treated herself to a steaming cup of hot chocolate and a bag of tiny, freshly fried donuts before settling onto a bench outside Faneuil Hall to people-watch.

A massive Christmas tree towered over the square, draped in a cascade of shimmering gold and silver lights that seemed to light up the night sky. Nearby, a family of four posed for a picture in front of an illuminated reindeer installation while a couple took a selfie, their cheeks rosy from the cold as they huddled close.

“Got room for one more?”

Cassie’s heart lifted at the sound of her lover's familiar voice. She turned to see Ethan and couldn’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Always.” She shifted to make room for him beside her.

“Christ! It’s fuckin’ cold tonight,” he shuddered as the wind picked up.

“You should’ve grabbed a hot chocolate on the way,” Cassie teased, taking an exaggerated sip from hers. “Here.”

She offered him the bag of still-warm donuts, grinning when a dusting of sugar landed on his coat and the corner of his mouth as he took a bite.

“Relax, babe,” she said with a laugh as he muttered about the mess, brushing away the sugar particles with a napkin. “You missed a spot.”

Cassie leaned in and licked the sugar from the corner of his lips. Ethan turned his head, his lips brushing against hers, and then he placed two fingers under her chin, holding her in place as he kissed her deeply and without hesitation.

Firecrackers burst in the distance—or was it her racing heartbeat and the rush of blood to her head? Cassie didn’t know or care as she fell into the moment.

All too soon, their lips drifted apart and the kiss faded into a whisper as their foreheads touched, sharing a quiet, unspoken connection.

“Excuse me?” a man’s voice interrupted. Cassie glanced up to see the other half of the couple who had been taking selfies earlier. “Sorry to disturb you, but could you…?”

He held out his phone to Ethan, then glanced uncertainly back at his girlfriend. Cassie grinned at Ethan’s hesitation and decided to take pity on him.

“I’ll do it,” she offered, stepping forward.

She took a few photos as the couple wrapped their arms around each other and struck playful poses for the camera. The last photo had them kissing softly under the Christmas tree lights. Cassie thought it might be the best one of all, envying the openness of their relationship.

As the couple walked away, thanking her with bright smiles, Cassie sighed wistfully and settled back onto the bench beside Ethan.

“What’s that sigh about?” he asked, raising a curious brow.

“Nothing,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she gathered the empty cup and paper bag to toss in the trash.

“Do you wish we weren’t keeping our relationship secret?”

Cassie was always amazed at how astutely Ethan could read her feelings. She supposed it was inevitable when two people had been in an intimate relationship of one type or another for almost nine months.

“We’re private people.”

“That’s not what I asked, Cassie.” He took her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Do you want to go public?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Our families and my close friends know. It should be enough.”

“But…?”

Cassie rolled her eyes. He could be relentless, like a dog with a bone. She knew he wouldn’t drop it easily.

“But I hate how the nurses flirt with you at work while I have to pretend it doesn’t bother me. Or how, if we took a selfie right now, I couldn’t post it on Picta because, as far as the world knows, I’m single.”

“I’m not posing for a selfie on Picta under any circumstances,” Ethan murmured.

“Wanna bet?” she shot back, glaring at him.

Ethan smirked, his lips twitching as if to hold back a retort. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “You’d lose that bet, Dr. Valentine.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow, a challenge glinting in her eyes. “Careful, babe. I always play to win.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s get out of here before I freeze my balls off sitting on this icy bench.”

She grabbed her things and fell into step beside him, their fingers brushing but not quite holding. As they walked into the twinkling glow of the holiday lights, Cassie glanced at him, a quiet smile tugging at her lips.

Maybe the world didn’t need to know about them just yet. Moments like this were enough.

A/N: In case you were wondering. Ethan lost that bet. 😂

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash @lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @loreofyore

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate