#it’s a plural feeling day for us ;p

[thebookishwallflower]

we’re thinking about doing a podcast on figures of mythology, folklore, cryptid-tales, and the sort :) if anyone has a beloved creature of stories please share them~ we need some inspo

one of our personal favorites is the baba yaga but we might save her for a bit anyways, we would love to hear about both main-stream and obscure things of all sorts

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 11 - The mirror is a trap that saves

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Elvis is a little dominant, use of daddy in a sexual context, bit of dollification, objectification if you squint, possessive kink, praise kink, p in v sex.

It's Christmas eve, and Elvis scratches his bearded chin as he walks arm in arm with Tegan and their dog through the snowy park. He's grown a beard to make it easier for him to dress up as Santa for the grandkids, but he started too late and it's itchy. Tegan told him that the itchy stage would finish soon (her ex had a beard) but he's preoccupied by how annoying it is right now. The dog is a chow cross that they chose together at a rescue centre, as soon as Elvis found out that Tegan loved dogs as much as him. She made the mistake of telling him about the Welsh language band Ffa Coffi Pawb - literally meaning “everyone's coffee beans”, but pronounced fah-koff-ee pow-b which made it sound a lot like fuck off everyone, in a combination of Welsh and English - Wenglish - and he decided that was the perfect name for their new furry friend. In the end he went for Ffa Coffi, which Tegan thinks doesn't really work as a pun, but Elvis enjoys saying regardless. Tegan also doesn't think a dog can be called Coffee Beans (bean would be fine, but the plural just seems crazy) but mostly they just shout “COFFI!” which works in either language. The most important thing is that Coffi is laid back and will barely chase after a ball, never mind other people's pets. And he puts up with Tegan cuddling him all the time without ever trying to lick her face. Sometimes when Elvis sees them curled up on the sofa together he wonders if he will ever get a look in. 

The beard and the fact that he’s wrapped up for the cold mean that barely anyone recognises Elvis, and so they’ve come out without any kind of back up. Elvis feels more and more comfortable doing that nowadays, happy to just walk around with Tegan and Coffi. They don’t see the paps often in the cold, and when they do they just do their best to ignore them. As they make their way through the snow, he’s reminded of the day at the zoo, when they definitely did have to have back up. 

“Hey, I bet if we went ta the zoo today no-one would bother us.”

Tegan snorts. “And all the animals would probably be indoors by the fire with a cocoa.”

“Cocoa?”

“Oh, hot chocolate.”

“Ah.”

They carry on for a while in silence, then Elvis pipes up again. 

“I’m sorry about that day, honey. Ya didn’t deserve bein’ dragged through the press like ya were.”

Her smile is slight as she remembers the horrible events of the day after. “Neither did you.”

Stopping, he turns to her and looks into her face seriously. “Ya didn’t deserve the way I treated ya, either.”

Her eyes dart around, awkwardly, and she eventually settles on looking down at Coffi. “Well, that was a while ago, now, ‘raur. Things have been much better since then.”

Taking his hands out of his pockets, he reaches for hers to hold them. The dog lead slips onto her wrist and Coffi sits down between them, looking up patiently. 

“Ya know yer beautiful, right?”

She frowns a little, still looking at the dog. “I’m not sure what that’s got to do with… before.”

He steps towards her and the dog whines a little at being hemmed in between them. 

“Will ya look at me, pretty girl?”

Her nose wrinkles and she looks up cautiously. “We’ve been through this, ‘raur. I’m almost 40 years old.”

“Alright then. Look at me when I’m talking to ya, woman.”

There’s a trace of a smile on her face as he moves his hand to her cheek and pulls her towards him, making her stagger forwards for balance as he crashes his lips against hers. 

“Mmm. ‘Raur,” she chides, a blush rising on her face as he pulls back. 

“Can’t get ya ta listen otherwise, can I?” He grumbles, letting out a low whistle and shaking his head. “Now I’ve got yer attention, will ya answer me?”

“About what?”

Elvis growls deep in his throat, making Coffi yelp in surprise. “I want ya ta tell me yer beautiful.”

“Elvis…”

“No.” The word is sharp and the force of it makes her tremble. “Don’t Elvis me. Tell me what I want ta hear.”

“I guess I look better now I've had my hair and nails done…”

Nudging the dog out of the way with his foot, Elvis closes the gap between them and puts his lips to Tegan’s ear.

“Well if yer not gonna tell me now I'll haveta fuck it outta ya later.” His voice is low and gravelly and she trembles again at the pitch and the force of the words. She can feel a blush rising on her cheeks and finds her thighs rubbing together almost of their own accord. “Hm?” He prompts, not moving his mouth from her ear. 

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers back. 

He's half-tempted to reply “yes, Daddy, what?” but he decides not to push it outdoors, and responds with a quick “good” instead. He steps back and takes the dog lead off Tegan, gently tugging Coffi towards him. 

“Time ta head back.”

They turn and walk back towards the car, Tegan’s stomach flipping as the words he’d just said run through her mind over and over again. As well as the consistent erections, the pills had given Elvis a little more confidence, but he’d never said anything like that outside of the bedroom, let alone outside of the house. On the drive home they make small talk about when they’re going to put out the presents, and what they’ve bought for other people, but Tegan’s brain keeps short-circuiting to him telling her he’s going to fuck it out of her. She watches him carry on doing normal, everyday things when they’re back at Graceland. Feeding the dog, making coffee. 

“Elvis?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

He moves to put his arms around her, pulling her in close. “Of course ya can.”

His lips are soft and the kiss is gentle. Tegan feels herself relax. She smiles as he pulls back. 

“Thanks.”

He chuckles softly. “Mmm. No problem.” Stroking her cheek, he continues, “you lookin’ forward to dressin’ up as Mrs Claus later? Puttin’ on that little outfit I bought ya?”

She looks at his expression for a moment and then shakes her head a little. “It’s obscene, isn’t it?”

He pretends to look offended. “Obscene? Somethin’ I bought fer ya?” When she carries on staring at him with one raised eyebrow he relents. “Okay, yeah, so it’s a little short. Gotta show off my girl’s legs though, haven’t I?”

“To who?!”

“Ah. Okay, ya got me there.” He ponders the question for a moment. “Alright. It’s self-gratification. Jus’ wanna see ‘em myself.”

She keeps shaking her head but they’re both giggling and then they’re kissing again. Tegan hears someone clearing their throat and pulls back quickly. 

“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’ve got two kids demanding lunch.” Lisa-Marie smiles at them both. 

“Chefs are on their way in,” Elvis explains, looking at his watch. “Ten minutes or so an’ then they’ll be makin’ somethin’. Kids’ll have ta be patient.”

The impatient children appear as if they’ve been summoned by the conversation, and Elvis suggests they all go down to the den and hang out there instead. Ben follows his sister, explaining some comic book or other that he’s been reading to her in painstaking detail, whilst she pulls the most bored face Tegan thinks she’s ever seen. Elvis settles into an armchair and pulls his girlfriend into his lap. One arm rests around her waist whilst his other hand brushes her hair away from her neck to give him easy access to press kisses to it every so often. He always seems to know when she needs reassurance. 

“You two are so sweet together,” Lisa remarks. 

“Ah, I’m lucky she puts up with me,” Elvis replies, his fingers combing through Tegan’s hair. “She’s got the patience of a saint.”

“Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here,” Tegan complains. 

Lisa starts saying something about him being a pain in the ass, but Tegan can barely hear it because his lips are next to her ear again, murmuring, “think ya like it when I do that, honey.” Her pussy tingles at the words and she swallows, thickly. Managing after what seems like minutes to tune back into the conversation, only to hear Elvis saying,

“She’s way too good fer me, and far too pretty.”

The tingling between her legs intensifies. She does like it. She likes it way too much. Fuck. She tries to calm down as she hears Lisa ask her a question to draw her back into the conversation. 

“Oh well, I mean he is better than me at karate, I suppose…”

They bounce back and forth and she starts to feel herself relax. But Elvis had felt the way she’d tensed and seen the blush on her face. He certainly hasn’t lost his touch, when it comes to knowing what women like, he thinks. Not at all. 

***

Tegan looks at herself in the mirror, turning to the side and tugging at the hem of her dress a little. She’d been right when she accused Elvis of buying her an obscene costume - it only just covers her ass. At least it’s not skin tight, she muses. But there’s no way she’s bending over in it in the best of the house. She pulls the santa hat onto her head and laughs at her reflection. If someone had told her a year ago that she’d be in one of the bedrooms in Graceland, wearing a skimpy Mrs Claus outfit and getting ready to arrange presents underneath the Christmas tree (a task that was now definitely seeming impossible to do without flashing someone) she’d have laughed them out of town. And yet, here she is.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of Elvis in his own Santa costume. She turns and runs daintily towards him, the red sparkly heels he’d bought her slowing her down a little. Throwing her arms around his neck she grins as his hands grip her lower back. 

“You look very handsome as Father Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I look like an old man in a Santa costume, honey.”

“You look handsome,” she tells him firmly, and he leans down to kiss her with a smile. 

“Father Christmas,” he teases, doing a bad impression of her accent. 

She sniggers. “Daddy Christmas.”

His hand reaches down to squeeze her ass. “Yeah, ya can call me that if ya want.”

They both giggle a little before he insists on looking at her properly in her outfit, twirling her around and making approving noises. 

“You’ve outdone yourself here, Presley,” he says, to himself. 

She can’t help smiling, despite the ridiculousness of the situation. He lets out a sharp breath and then shakes his head quickly as if to dispel the dirty thoughts. 

“Right, let’s get these gifts done.” 

He gives her a quick slap on the ass and she squeals. “Elvis!”

“Thought it was Daddy Christmas,” he replies, one eyebrow raised and a little smile playing on his lips. 

“You are incorrigible.”

“You are incorrigible, Daddy Christmas.”

Tegan doubles over laughing at that, which Elvis particularly enjoys given the length of her skirt and the lacey panties he’d bought her to wear with her outfit. 

“I swear these pills have made you worse.”

“Ya won’t learn, will ya? Call me by my name or I’ll have to put ya over my knee and we’ll never get these gifts done.”

Managing eventually to keep a straight face, she puts her arms back around his neck and looks up into his face. 

“Sorry, Daddy Christmas,” she coos. “I promise I’ll be a good girl. I don’t want to miss out on my presents.”

“I’ll definitely be givin’ ya somethin’ later if yer good,” he teases back. 

After more giggling, nose scrunching and forehead kisses, they eventually untangle themselves and head downstairs to arrange the presents, fetching them from outside of bedroom doors and piling them up underneath the tree. They fill the kids’ stockings and Elvis eats the cookie left out for Santa, leaving the glass of sherry to Tegan, since she’d insisted on it. Much to her relief, no-one comes out to see them at work so she doesn’t have to worry about her modesty too much. It’s still good to be in Elvis’ room afterwards, especially when he tells her he has some gifts to give her now. 

“Don’t think this is somethin’ everyone needs ta see,” he explains, handing her a beautifully wrapped package. “An’ the other one,” he gestures at the box next to her on the bed, “is somethin’ I want ya wearin’ tomorrow.”

“Which one first?”

He taps the package in her hand. “That one.”

She unwraps it carefully, then immediately bursts out laughing. It’s not just one present - it’s a set of three pairs of panties with ELVIS embroidered on the back in silver script. 

“Oh my God! Did you have these made?!”

He nods, grinning a little bashfully. “Thought you might like ‘em. Ya can wear a pair tomorrow under that dress I bought ya.”

Elvis had bought her yet another gold dress, which he somehow hadn’t classed as a Christmas present, having given it to her earlier in the week. She thinks she ought to be overwhelmed by all the presents, and she’s certainly nervous to see his reaction to what she’s bought him, but every time he produces another one she’s filled with a kind of warm joy. He loves giving and she loves receiving. They’re a match made in heaven. 

She smirks and once she’s finished looking at the panties she reaches for the next present. Under the wrapping paper is a beautiful velvet box, and inside the box is… 

“Oh ‘raur!!” She exclaims, very carefully lifting the tiara out of the box. It’s gold and covered in diamonds and she hates to think how much money it must have cost. “Oh cariad, it’s beautiful.” 

“Put it on, honey.”

She pushes the santa hat off her head as she gets up and walks over to the full-length mirror. Carefully replacing the hat with the tiara, she fiddles with her hair and turns her head from side to side, looking at the stones sparkling in the light. Elvis comes up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“My beautiful Queenie.”

She blushes and looks down. “Oh ‘raur. It’s too much.”

“Uh-uh. Nothin’ too much f’my Queenie.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

He kisses her cheek this time and his eyes lock with hers in the mirror. “Let’s see ya in it and those panties, then.”

She spins around in his arms, her arms reaching around his neck. “Am I just some kind of naughty fashion show for you?”

“Yep,” he replies, patting her ass. “Off ya go now. Do as yer told.”

Part of her can’t believe she’s just going along with this, going into the en suite to take her dress and underwear off, and put the new panties on. She hadn’t thought that being with Elvis would be like being his little doll sometimes, and she also hadn’t thought that she’d like it so much. She opens the door slowly, then steps back into the bedroom. Elvis is still fully-clothed, sitting on his bed waiting for her. As soon as he spots her, looking a little shy only a few steps into the room, he beckons her over. 

“C’mere. That’s it. Spin round fer me. Mmmm. Lookin’ good, Tegan bach.”

Once she’s finished with being paraded around in a circle for the second time that evening, Tegan gets onto Elvis’ lap. She much prefers being close to him like this to being made to strut about like a catwalk model, and she presses herself up against him, enjoying the feeling of her naked skin against his soft, almost furry suit. His hands rub up and down her back, kissing her deeply as she rolls her hips against him. 

“Ya gonna tell me what I want ta hear yet?” He murmurs in her ear. 

“Mmm. No. Think you promised something about fucking it out of me.”

He hums and pulls his belt off, before reaching into the pants of his suit and pulling his dick out. “Sit on it fer me, honey.”

She moves to take her panties off and one of his hands grips her arm. He shakes his head. “Keep ‘em on. Jus’ move ‘em to the side.”

Moaning, she slowly eases him inside her until she’s full, sitting on his lap, her head against his shoulder, panting. 

“Good girl. Want ya ta remember who ya belong to.”

“I couldn’t…forget… Elvis.”

“Mmmm. Yer all mine.”

She tries to steady her breathing, still leaning heavily against him. 

“Okay, baby?” He asks, softly, when she still doesn’t move. 

“Mmm. Yes. Fuck.”

“This enough fer ya?”

She smiles against him. “I was promised a fuck.”

He smiles back, thinking how much he loves her in this moment. His hands move to grip her hips and he uses them to move her, slowly at first and then gathering pace. The tiara slips and she quickly removes it, setting it safely on the bedside table. 

“Now?” He asks, pulling her up and slamming her back down on him, hard. 

She whines. “I… oh… fuck…”

“That’s not it, honey.”

“I… oh, fine! I’m beautiful! I’m… fuck…” she forces the words out and at around the same time her orgasm hits her with the force of a speeding truck. 

“Yes ya fuckin’ are,” he replies, through gritted teeth as he feels her squeezing him. His hips buck a few times and then he’s cumming inside her too. 

She falls down against him like a ragdoll, puffing and panting. Once he's managed to get his santa suit off he pulls her back into his arms. They lie together for a while, basking in the glow of their orgasms. Tegan starts to think about the next day, and who will be arriving when, her brain lazily trying to figure out logistics. They chat about it for a while, Elvis reassuring her that she doesn’t have to worry, he’s already planned it all.

“So that’s everyone, I think.”

“Sure you haven’t missed anyone?”

“Oh, yeah. Jerry will be comin’. On his own, though. Wife left ‘im. Thought he might want company.”

“Who’s Jerry?”

“Friend a mine from before. Lives in LA now. Pretty boy, ‘bout seven years younger ‘an me.”

“You didn’t say.”

“Musta forgot, honey. Ya’ll like ‘im. Everyone likes Jerry.”

“Did you tell him about me?”

“‘Course I did, honey. He’s lookin’ forward ta meetin’ ya.”

Tegan thinks she’s looking forward to meeting him too, for some reason she can’t quite define. They carry on talking until Elvis starts to drift off, and so Tegan extracts herself from his arms and gets more comfortable. Imagining Graceland on Christmas morning, bustling with life and joy until she falls asleep too. 

***

Part 12

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

[snowglobe-system]

Hi! Feel no pressure to answer, but I have a few questions (regarding DID)

So I'm aware of what an endo system is, but I'm a bit confused on why it would be considered valid since the condition is directly caused by trauma, which is the thing that endos lack. Could you please explain your perspective on it? And maybe your perspective before you became pro-endo?

Hey! I've been sitting on this ask for a few days now. I do want to start out by thanking you for reaching out to me and asking about my perspective. Please note that you are not obligated to agree with me, or to change your mind just from my answer to your questions. I like having you as a mutual, and I will continue to do so regardless of your syscourse stance.

I'm going to grab a term that some of my mutuals in the DID community have used, and say I'm really more pro syscourse conversation than I am pro endo- pro endo is just the easiest way to communicate my basic stances.

I think the most important thing to understand here is that a lot of the time, the "are endos real" debate suffers from both sides fundamentally misunderstanding what the other's stance actually is. While there is a small subsection of the endo community claiming that DID isn't trauma based- which I vehemently disagree with, DID is absolutely trauma based, and that's backed by all of the research- that's not the majority.

Most endogenic systems are not claiming to have DID. They are claiming to experience themselves as more than one. I am by no means an expert on this, but I know that it is a very western-centric view to assume that everyone subscribes to being one singular self. If you want to learn more about non-western views on the self and on plurality, I would recommend looking at @system-of-a-feather's blog. They make great posts on the subject!

And- here's a real kicker- not everyone with a CDD- CDD standing for complex dissociative disorders and including the likes of DID, OSDD, P-DID, UDD, etc- actually identifies as plural. Not everyone with even DID identifies as plural. So if someone with a CDD can identify as one, what's stopping someone who doesn't have a CDD from identifying as more than one? This post puts it pretty well, so I'm just going to link it here! And if you're looking for scientific backing on endo systems? Dr Colin Ross, one of the very well known DID researchers, believes in non-traumagenic self states.

Basically, I'm choosing to believe people when they talk about their subjective personal experiences.

Now you did also ask about my anti-endo days and I will also gladly talk about those. I will admit, I was the worst kind of anti-endo. I was the type of person who would throw even other CDD systems under the bus as fakers because I wanted to seem more legitimate. Everyone who didn't present the "right" way was a faker. And endos, my goodness. They were the worst fakers of them all.

It was an extremely reactive position to take. I was suffering from my plurality, therefore everyone who wasn't had to be faking. They were making a mockery out of me! At least, that's how I perceived it.

And then I started interacting with endos, and pro endos. I realized that they were also real people, not just an abstract concept to make fun of to make myself look more legitimate. And I started reading blogs that had the rawest, realest content about CDDs that I'd come across thus far... and they were pro endo. And the arguments as to why were really good.

Somewhere along the way, I realized that the things that were leading me to being anti endo were the same things that made me into a transmed when in the 2010s. I believed that people had to meet a minimum quota of suffering to be real. In a way, I was defining people by it. And ultimately, if they are lying? It costs me nothing to believe them. I'd rather believe some liars than not believe people who are telling the truth. I've had enough experience with people not believing me. It sucks. I didn't want to keep doing that to others.

That's about the end of this yap session! Seriously, thanks again for asking, I really enjoyed writing this post. I hope I answered in a way that makes sense to you!

[mrprettywhenhecries]

home for the holidays [s.h]

Steve Harrington ✘ f!Reader

⇾ w.c. 1.9k words ⇾ warning(s). f!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, soft smut ⇾ a/n. Day One of HoHoHoe Week. Prompt - Childhood Bedroom.

Steve comes to your family’s house with you for the holidays.  Despite the fact that you and Steve live together, however, your parents are adamant you stay in separate rooms while under their roof.  Unable to stay apart, Steve sneaks to your childhood bedroom during the night.

[ masterlist ]

“If it’s alright with you guys, I think Steve and I are gunna turn in for the night.”

Sharing a pointed look with your boyfriend, you feigned a yawn, covering your mouth with your hand and he did the same, following your lead, an amused expression on his face, though not tired in the slightest.

“Oh, you poor things, you must be exhausted, especially after such a long drive to get here,” your mother exclaimed, looking between the two of you.  “Of course that’s fine, we should probably get ready for bed too,” she said, patting your father’s knee before pushing out of her chair.

“Why don’t you show them to their rooms, dear?” she called as she headed for the kitchen and your dad grunted as he got to his feet.

“Yeah, alright,” he murmured and your brows drew down.

“Rooms?” you repeated, emphasizing the plural.  “You are aware that Steve and I live together, right?” you asked with a chuckle, wondering if your parents were just messing with you.  “As in, we sleep in the same room all the time,” you added and your father turned to give you a stern look.

“We’re aware,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at you before offering Steve an apologetic smile.  “No offense, Steve, but while you’re under our roof, we’d just prefer if the two of you slept in different beds.  You know, allow us the illusion that our little girl is still a pure little angel,” he joked, making you roll your eyes.

Steve, however, bless him, took it better than you, a bemused grin stretching across his face.  “I understand, sir, no offense taken,” he said, holding a hand up while wrapping his other arm around your waist.

“Good lad,” your father said, nodding before turning to the staircase.  “We’ve got Steve set up in the guest room, and sweetie, you’ll be in your old room, hope you don’t mind,” he explained.

Oh, you knew what they were doing.  The guest room just happened to be right next to theirs, while your childhood room was down the hall.  If you tried to join Steve in his room, they’d inevitably hear it and your room still only had a twin sized bed.

“Thanks again,” Steve exclaimed as your parents bade you goodnight, retreating to their own bedroom.

As soon as they were gone, you let out a groan.  “I don’t think I can handle a whole night away from you,” you whined, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend.

“Me either, but they were nice enough to let us stay…” Steve murmured, grinning softly down at you, pulling you closer to steal a lingering kiss.  

“Yeah, but— I’m needy,” you hissed under your breath, pouting up at him and Steve groaned, clearly feeling the same.

“Are your parents light sleepers?” he asked, pitching his voice low.

“Not after all the eggnog they drank earlier,” you chuckled.

“Well then, when they fall asleep, I’ll sneak to your room and we’ll have a little fun.  What d’you say?” Steve asked, pressing his forehead to yours, mischief sparkling in his brown eyes.

“Alright,” you breathed, giddy at the thought of sneaking around like a teenager again.  “It might be a bit of a tight fit, but I’m sure we can manage,” you purred, biting your lip.  “Meet me in a half hour, okay?  I’m the door at the end of the hall,” you said, reluctantly pulling away.

Steve grinned.  “See you soon,” he murmured, watching you disappear down the hall before slipping into the guest room.

Exactly thirty minutes later, your door opened to admit your boyfriend, his eyebrows climbing at the sight of you sprawled out atop your childhood bed with naught but a blanket suggestively draped over you.

“You like?” you asked, smirking as Steve carefully pushed the door shut behind him before pulling his sweater over his head and dropping it to the floor.

“Oh, I definitely like,” he grinned, crossing the room to you and stepping out of his flannel pajama pants.  “You’re such a naughty girl,” he teased.

“Were my parents asleep?” you asked, your heart beating faster as he slowly pulled down his boxers before crawling under the covers next to you, his body instantly warming you.

“Oh yeah, I heard your dad snoring through the wall,” he chuckled, rolling atop you on the narrow bed.  “Cute room by the way,” he murmured, stealing a kiss that was much too short for your taste and you whined softly when his lips moved elsewhere, traveling along the line of your jaw.  “I didn’t know you were so into unicorns.”

“I’ll have you know they are very majestic creatures, okay?” you exclaimed, fighting a grin, your breath catching as Steve’s mouth latched onto your neck, his tongue rolling slowly against your flesh, soothing the spot he’d nipped playfully, sending heat rushing south, settling between your thighs.

“Mmm, you’re adorable,” he hummed, kissing lower, his lips skimming over the soft slope of your breast, making you arch against him, a breathy moan escaping your lips.

“And you were incredibly too sexy in that Christmas sweater earlier, I could barely think straight,” you murmured, running your fingers through his thick chestnut hair.

“Oh, is that what did this?” he asked, slipping his fingers between your legs, coating them in your slick as his eyes flicked up to yours in amusement, hunger lurking in those gorgeous dark depths.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, squirming against him.  “Steve,” you whined as his mouth found your nipple, flicking it playfully with the tip of his tongue before he once more lifted his face to you.

“Yes, Princess?” he prompted, knowing full well what his teasing was doing, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as he watched you.

“C’mere,” you huffed, tugging him closer, your stomach giving a flip as his cock brushed against your pelvis.  “Wanna kiss you,” you pouted, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he chuckled.

“Is that all?” he teased, sighing into your mouth.

“You know what else I want,” you pouted in between heated kisses, and Steve groaned as you drew your legs higher, hooking them around his waist.  “Want you inside me,” you whimpered, gazing up at him with your best pleading face.

“How can I say no to that?” he purred, grinning wider, shifting atop you to line himself up.

Slowly pushing into you, Steve’s face contorted in concentration and you breathed through the stretch, gasping as he finally filled you, stilling to let you adjust.

“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he reminded you gently, pressing his forehead to yours as he shared your breath, his long lashes brushing his cheeks as his eyelids fluttered shut for a moment.  “I don’t want your parents to find us like this and get thrown out for defiling their little angel,” he joked, holding you close, his chest moving against yours with each breath he took.

“I don’t want you to get thrown out either,” you murmured, admiring him as you pushed the hair from his eyes, enjoying just being close for the moment, warm and complete.  “Though I’m pretty sure they’re aware that you’ve probably defiled me already,” you teased, running your fingertips up and down his arms.

Steve huffed a soft laugh, tilting his chin up to capture your lips as he finally began to move inside you, his rolling thrusts measured and deep, the ridge of his head grazing that spot inside you just right each time his hips met yours.

“Hope your bed doesn’t squeak too much,” he grunted, picking up his pace as you clenched around him so sweetly.

“Honestly, at this point I don’t care if they hear.  I need you so bad, Steve,” you exclaimed in a hushed voice, your breath catching as he hit you deeper, rocking your entire body with the force.

“Me too,” he grunted, his breaths coming faster and you smiled as you held his gaze, caressing his cheek as he brought you closer to the edge.

“I feel kinda dirty doing this in your parents’ house,” Steve breathed, though he grinned, reaching between you to thumb your clit, rubbing tight circles against your sensitive bud, sending electricity crackling through you with each stroke, the blinding pleasure hovering just out of reach.

“You like that, don’t you?” you mewled, squeezing him tighter, your hips rolling to meet his, writhing desperately beneath him.

“Yeah, I think I kinda do,” he admitted, moaning a little too loudly before biting his lip to stifle his noises, though the slap of his skin against yours filled your room.

“Please, Steve, wanna cum together,” you whined, wrapping your arms around him tighter, your nails biting into his back as his thrusts came faster, holding back for you to cum first.

“Wanna watch you,” he urged, groaning as you tensed around him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, the only sound a high pitched whine as he pushed you over the edge, following after, filling you with each last jerky rut of his hips.

Panting heavily, he dropped his face to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he caught his breath, chest heaving against yours as he went limp inside you.

“Fuck, that was amazing, babe,” you gasped, holding him close, your fingers dancing soothingly over his flushed back and shoulders.

Finally Steve lifted his head, grinning softly at you, affection thick in his gaze.  “No kidding, that was just what the doctor ordered,” he teased, shifting his weight to lay next to you, nestled closely to your side and you rolled toward him, resting your cheek against his shoulder, his arm instinctively wending around your middle, holding you tight against him.

“I hope it wasn’t too awkward, you know, with the scenery,” you murmured, your cheeks heating as you glanced around the room.

Steve shook his head, brushing your hair from your face, his thumb stroking the curve of your cheek as he admired you.  “Not really, I was pretty focused on you.”

“Oh good,” you sighed, running your fingers through the soft dark curls that adorned his chest.

“Although, now that I’m thinking about it… how many guys have you fooled around with in here?” he asked, a grimace twisting his features.

“Steve, why would you think about that?” you chastised lightly.

“I dunno, just thinking about you as a teen, you must’ve been popular with the guys.”

“Steve,” you repeated fondly, kissing his jaw.  “There were a few,” you admitted, moving on quickly when he tensed beneath you.  “But none of them are here with me now, are they?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him.  “You are, and you’re the last guy I plan on fooling around with in this bed,” you assured him, nuzzling his cheek with the tip of your nose.

“I love you, you know that?” Steve breathed, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

“I love you too, Steve,” you murmured, your eyes beginning to droop, your little romp tiring you more than you’d thought.

“Are you falling asleep?” he asked, wondering if he should slip free to head back to the guest room, but you only held on tighter.

“Don’t leave yet,” you whined, pressing your face to his side, feeling Steve chuckle.

A few moments passed before he spoke again, hoping you weren’t asleep yet.

“Do you think I made a good impression on them?  Your parents?” he clarified, a note of nervousness in his soft voice.

“Definitely,” you murmured, shifting against him.  “They loved you.”

“Good,” Steve whispered, listening to your breaths slow, turning to the even breathing of sleep before pressing one last kiss to your forehead and slipping reluctantly out of your bed.  As much as he hated leaving your side, the last thing he wanted to do was lose your family’s approval.

⇾ taglist. @hohohoeweek2023 @b1tchy3lf @heartbreak-sandwich @hawkinsglasscloset @sugarcookiesteve @afestivelegend @birminghamshelbyboys

[zith-ipeth]

Dog Days Diary: Something new? (Someone new?) Experiments

What’s up gaggle of goofs

So ummmm, the feelings of not quite being “just one person” have yet to go away, and are being brought up in therapy, and it’s suggest that I (and her) do more art, and express my(our)selves more clearly and cleanly. I used to do a lot of poetry and opinion posting on this page, and I think I’m gonna try that again, this time tho I’m gonna be adding a tag. -R- for me, and -P- for her. I hope that she doesn’t accidentally slip up and say my real name, but she might say hers.

Welcome to my new doggish experiment and experiences, if anyone has advice or resources or just wants to chat, messages are always open

Oh also im gonna be tagging this with mostly plural tags as opposed to my normal therian tags. (Oooohohh scarrryy) but yeah, let’s do this

Run fast, bite hard, bark loud

Peace, love, and gratitude

-Zith Ipeth

[plurapony]

Endogenic Plurality & Our Blog Stances!

Hi everypony! Our stances have changed a bit recently and i wanted to update how it affects our blog 🩷

We are Endo-Neutral. We believe in endogenic plurality and are all for endogenics (even willogenics) who's experiences have a positive benefit to their overall psych. Our wife once told us "it's a lot easier to get through hard things imaging you're someone else" which made us SO happy. It's a hard world out there, we support doing whatever you feel you need in order to thrive - which includes endogenic plurality.

HOWEVER when it comes to our blog, this is a space specifically for those with CDDs. While I wish all endogenics the best, this blog isn't for anyone who experiences non-disordered plurality.

Why? To put it very simply we still have a lot of healing to go through. We are affected by our negative symptoms of this disorder on a daily basis and it affects our content we put out too. We do hope someday we can heal enough to be a mental health positivity blog but we've got a long way to go before that can be a reality. It's important for us that our main interactions on this blog are with other disordered systems.

This isn't necessarily an "endo's dni" it's moreso when we make posts regarding our experiences of being a system and the negative side, we'd prefer not to hear endogenic input. I'll be making a new banner to put on those posts :) If a post doesn't have the banner then anyone is free to interact!!! (or I might make a separate banner :p)

That's all everypony! I hope you have the most incredible fantastic day!!! I hope your day is full of kindness and care 🌷

[multiplicity-positivity]

Here’s some positivity for systems who don’t use -genic or other origins labels!

ALL systems are beautiful, valid, and integral members of the plural community. Not every system will use or benefit from -genic or other origin labels, and that’s okay! There is nothing wrong with accepting your system as it is, and choosing not to label how your system formed. So here’s to all the systems who don’t identify with origin labels!

🌙 Shoutout to systems who genuinely don’t know and don’t care to learn about their system’s origins!

🪐 Shoutout to systems who used to have a label for their origins, but have since abandoned or stopped using it!

⭐️ Shoutout to systems who want to just exist and be accepted as they are, without any origin labels tied to their identity!

☀️ Shoutout to systems who reject origin labels as a reclamation of power and agency in their own lives!

🌙 Shoutout to systems who are confused or troubled by -genic and/or origin labels!

🪐 Shoutout to systems who are satisfied with using the labels “system” and “plural” to describe themselves!

⭐️ Shoutout to systems who want to keep their system origins private!

☀️ Shoutout to systems with dissociative disorders who choose to define their plurality through a lense of DID, OSDD, or P-DID rather than -genic or other labels!

🌙 Shoutout to systems who hate feeling like they have to use an origin label in order to be accepted in the plural community!

🪐 Shoutout to systems who don’t use origin labels due to others using their origins as an excuse to invalidate, fakeclaim, or otherwise harm them in the past!

⭐️ Shoutout to individual headmates who don’t use origin labels, even if the rest of their system does!

☀️ Shoutout to systems who find -genic labels to be unhelpful, counterproductive, or divisive for their own system or the plural community!

There is absolutely nothing wrong with choosing to reject or forego any labels that do not help or benefit you or your system. You deserve the right to define your own system and experiences with terminology that works best for you - and if -genic and origin labels don’t work, it’s okay to simply not use them! Choosing to not us these labels does not make you any less plural, or any less of a cherished and integral part of our community and spaces. In fact, your unique perspectives are a benefit to the plural community, and we are so happy to have you here!

Please do your best to treat yourself and your system with kindness, and try not to worry about what other people think of you due to your system’s choices regarding origin labels. Rest assured you will always have a special place in the plural community just the way you are, regardless of what terms you use to describe your origins! Thanks so much for reading, and have an amazing day!

[plural-affirmations]

Here's to systems who mainly experience passive influence!

Passive influence is defined as "intrusions from headmates that are not currently prominent in the mind or using the body" [via Pluralpedia].

Put simply, passive influence is when a headmate influences the thoughts, feelings, perception, or senses to another headmate (usually one that's fronting), without actually being in front. This can happen frequently with being co-conscious or observing what's going on in the outerworld, despite not controlling the body itself.

Here's to systems who:

Rarely have passive influence

Have passive influence frequently

Consider passive influence one of the defining things about their plurality experiences

Have moderate to severe identity confusion due to passive influence

Have periods of doubting themselves because of it

You're so wonderful! Please know it's going to be ok, and passive influence is a 100% normal plural experience. No matter if you experience it every day, once in a blue moon, or even never, you're accepted here!

Sending lots of hugs and kisses your way! /p

🖤💜💙💚💛

[starsailer]

HELLO ALL AND WELCOME TO MY BLOG!!

First things first, we are traumagenic system with an unknown alter count! (Dw our blog is safe for all origins! Love all you plurals!) pls interact!!

We have autism, BPD and trauma related hypersexuality <33 (Our blog is SFW though <33)

We are physically disabled and chronically ill TvT

We are nonhuman <33 Werewokfkin, Vampirekin and Felinekin! Alterhumans pls interact :p!!

Our interests as of currently are Cookie Run, Warriors Cats and Camp Here and There (<- no spoilers, we aren’t done yet!)

We are a furry! <33

We have no DNI list and support all people! We are pro-everything that doesn’t hurt others/is highly illegal!

Feel free to interact with us/dm us! We would love to gain a small group of friends from this side of the internet!

Have an amazing day!! TW: GIFs are under the “more” tab!

[plural-identity-punk]

congrats on the blog!

could you coin a term for a system who switches infrequently? the way it works for us, we'll have one guy fromt for ~1-2 weeks and then another will front for ~1-2 weeks. its not like when you have a host who fronts for long times. for us, a short amount of time to front is 3 days.

Infrequent switching flag!

Flag for system/collective/plurals who switch infrequently usually not switching for weeks at a time! (Colors meanings are under the cut

This can be because of alters getting front stuck, having p-did, the system only switching because of triggers, or any other reasons

Any system of any origin can use our flags. If you feel uncomfortable with that then don’t use our flags. This account is not a radqueer account.

[herbalprism]

Hello there. I really like your work/templates so I was wondering if I could make a request/nf.

If possible could I get a template based on Xiao from genshin impact? Or possibly just something demon related if you don’t know/don’t like genshin for whatever reasons.

Thank you ahead of time if you do this. If not thank you anyways!

Absolutely! I thank you for liking my work- it's not the best but I like to think I make at least someone's day by feeling recognized.

And I honestly don't know much about genshin, so I tried to do a bit of research, included element-( still don't know if that's super important) but I couldn't find much to use with aesthetic wise so I kind of mixed them both together, hope that's okay!

Genshin Impact/Demon Simply Plural intro


NAME

--

🩸 Age:

💧Gender:

🩸 Pronouns:

💧Birthday:

🩸 Orientation:

💧Relationship Status:

🩸 Mono/Poly:


Role:

🩸Secondary role:

💧 Source?:

🩸Sourcetalk:

💧 Touch:

🩸Petnames:

💧 Flirting:


 🩸Species:

💧 Element:

🩸Likes:

💧 Dislikes:

🩸Triggers /P:

💧 Triggers /N:

🩸Extra:


[genericpuff]

I seriously need an updated LO s3 timeline now so I can decipher this monstrosity

Are H/P seriously going to raise a baby (which is 100% Zeus' kid)? A few weeks after Persephone said she wanted to take things slowly? When Hades admitted a couple days ago that he hadn't been a good father to Thanatos?

What the hell is the plan????

Honestly, I feel like the folks over at PomegraNet just gave up LMAO

But buckle up because I'm about to make you even more upset - this didn't happen a few 'weeks' after Persephone said she wanted to take things slow, it happened a WEEK, singular, not plural. Yes, read that again: A WEEK.

!!!MAJOR FP SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

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When you lay the events out end to end in their reasonable order, with all the fluff and flashbacks removed and using dialogue as indicators, Hades and Persephone literally talked a WEEK ago about being boyfriend and girlfriend and what that would entail.

I've gone on this rant before, but I'm so ready to go on it again knowing what we know now in the FP episodes.

Day 1: Hades and Persephone reunite with the Olympians, Zeus removes Persephone's sentencing, Hades and Persephone discuss their relationship going forward, they finish the day going to bed together where Persephone wonders if she's 'forgotten something' (i.e. Demeter).

Day 2: Hades awakens from a nightmare about Kronos, Persephone and Hades do their Steven Universe fusion dance to 'fix' the Underworld, they check out what Persephone created for Elysium and play in the river, they're interrupted by Demeter who has arrived to take her daughter back to the Mortal Realm, Persephone claims to have missed her despite forgetting she existed just the night before, Persephone tells her to eat the ziti or fuck off.

Day 3: Buckle up, because this one day takes the cake for having the longest and most pointless fetch quest in webcomic history. Hades gives Persephone 'breakfast in bed' (literally a single donut), Persephone insists she wants to go into work with him but he makes her stay home to relax, Hades meets up with Hecate to figure out what happened to cause the entire Underworld to become possessed by Kronos, Hecate talks him down from speaking to Kronos and gives him a rundown of what she believed happened, they deduce they should find Hypnos, but they don't know where to find him, so they decide to go find Thanatos, but Thanatos doesn't want to speak to Hades due to their strained relationship, so they have a buddy buddy talk which eventually gets Thanatos to give in and tell Hades where to find Hypnos. Turns out Hypnos has been living in the defunct remains of the Underworld Corp's HR department, where he tells Hades how Kronos was able to hijack his powers and reveals that Kronos has a 'child deity' being held captive down there with him. Despite Hecate saying they weren't going to go down to Tartarus that day, Hecate and Hades proceed to go down to Tartarus, but are unable to enter due to Kronos holding the place hostage (he'll only open the doors in exchange for his "golden traitor" who we can only assume is Hera). During all this, Persephone goes on an excursion to Olympus where she runs into Daphne and Eros and reconnects with them. She goes to the bank and finds out she has a shitload of money from her account gaining interest, which gives her the funds necessary to purchase her own apartment where Hades meets her for supper that night. Persephone somehow still ends up back at Hades' place (presumably to move the rest of her things from his house to her apartment) where they attempt to have sex only to be interrupted by a drunk Ares. Hades consoles him and then returns to Persephone, the two of them watch a movie from post-WW1 Germany in his personal theater, they try to be intimate again but it's revealed later on they didn't actually have sex. Ares tries to text Aphrodite but has been blocked.

Day 4: Persephone and Hades go to work, on the way they discuss a note Ares left for Persephone encouraging her to meet him to discuss her being a fertility goddess. Hades and Persephone discuss the child deity and Kronos briefly, realizing they need to bring it up with Hera. Speak of the devil, Hera is there when they arrive at work. They catch Hera up on what's going on, she wants to go speak to Kronos herself but Hades stops her for her safety. They change the subject to the coronation, Hera asks why Persephone and Hades aren't engaged yet, she encourages Persephone to invite her mother to the coronation and eventual wedding. After Hera leaves, it's revealed she's still being tormented by Kronos. Hephaestus and Psyche meet to discuss the pendrive Psyche stole off Apollo and what it contains, revealing a photo of Kassandra. After work, Persephone goes home to her own apartment and Hades works on coming up with an engagement ring for Persephone. Hades is interrupted by Persephone summoning him to her home. Persephone gets upset at herself for being jealous over Hades calling Hera 'Bunny'. Persephone decides to go meet with Ares that same day, Hades comes along disguised as a moth. Ares takes Persephone to a fresco, where she discovers an old monument of Metis which allows her to connect directly to Metis to speak with her about her fertility goddess status. It's nighttime when she awakens and Hades reminds her that she still needs to meet with her mother who she apparently already planned to meet with that day. Persephone goes to meet with Demeter who has a huge purity club intervention planned for her to pressure her into staying in the Mortal Realm. Hades proposes right then and there and Persephone leaves with him down into the Underworld.

Day 5: The next day, Persephone attempts to book venues for their wedding, but can't seem to get in touch with anyone anywhere. Zeus claims that these businesses are refusing to serve them on the basis of xenia, as they disrespected Demeter in her realm by doing an impromptu proposal. They meet up with Hera to discuss these issues, to which Hades suggests the restriction doesn't happen until tomorrow morning so they can get married that same night (despite the fact that businesses were already refusing to serve them lmao). They get married that night, and then have their honeymoon where they have sex for the first time ("deconstruction of purity culture" who?)

Day 6: Hades and Persephone both go to work the next day despite being on their honeymoon, it's revealed Morpheus has been hired by Hades to help him "file" people's dreams. Hermes gets into a fight with Apollo which ends with Hermes punching him. Persephone, meanwhile, has taken her new "judges" under her wing with the intent to have them help Hades do even less work than he already does. Hermes at this point has joined her and they talk about the Apollo situation. With Thetis' encouragement, Leuce applies to be Hades' PA and tries to seduce him under the impression that they still "had something" after Zeus tried to negotiate a marriage between them back near the end of S2. Hades rejects her, during which he reveals that he got married "yesterday" which helps us know that none of what I just said happened a few weeks after the wedding (despite Persephone implying as such with her own dialogue), it was literally the day before. Persephone is used as a test subject for dream diving with Morpheus. It's after this that Hades starts getting vibes from Persephone's texts that she doesn't want to talk to him.

Day 7: After literally a day, Hades gets nervous at Persephone icing him out ("I showed you my dick pls respond" energy) until after some pressuring, Persephone finally reveals she has a baby Dionysus in her possession.

Seven. Days. A week. A literal week ago in the story's timeline, Hades and Persephone decided they wanted to take it slow and try dating before rushing into marriage - and now they're married, restructuring the entire Underworld Corp, and already have a kid.

Rachel seriously saw Stephenie Meyer writing Bella Swan with a rushed superhuman pregnancy and went "hold my beer". I can't tell if I should be disappointed or flat out impressed that one person managed to pad out this much of a week with so much bullshit.

And some people might go "but puff, it's obvious we're not meant to read it as if it's sequential!" so what about the dialogue that tells exactly when these events are happening? or the actions that clearly lead from one event to the next in a very interlinked way that REQUIRES these things to be happening one after another?

My own OC's have literally been trapped in a non-Euclidian castle nightmare for well over an in-universe week now but MONTHS in real life and I've still managed to make that clear, with proper labelling of days that are passing and dialogue that lays it out clearly how long they've been in the castle. Sure, it can still be a strain on readers where it can make them feel like things in the comic are happening relative to real life, but there are methods to make your timeline clear that Rachel isn't employing. Even a fucking Spongebob "one week later" card would be better than the way she's outlining events right now.

If the PomegraNet team gave up, I wouldn't blame them in the slightest. Laying out the events in their proper order is a nightmare. And frankly, I have a tinfoil hat theory (so take with mountains of salt) that they were practically asked to stop what they were doing because their timeline also just makes the comic look like what it really is - a mess of word vomit that Rachel never bothered to clean up and turn into an actual story with reasonable pacing.

[mishkakagehishka]

>×> do you have any tips on how to write Mika's accent ? I don't want to write him just considering letting my Danganronpa DnD char have the same accent as treat

I spent 20min in my archive bc i actually remember already talking ab this once (or rather, Mika dialogue as a whole)!

I think my advice remains more or less the same. When listening to his voice lines, you can notice that he tends to slur his words together and his accent is p thick (altho, and idk if i'm just insane, but i could swear it was thicker in !era like i'm so serious). I'd add that these days, I make him speak like a southerner, but I tend to split between southern usamerican and cockney - both fit. He speaks in the "country bumpkin" and "funny, friendly, but stupid" stereotyped accent, so, as a fan of the art of localisation, i always try to translate or depict his speech in whatever manner would bring about the same associations to the reader. To a UK local that'd probably be cockney, to a US local, southern usamerican.

But all in all, stick to one of those two, learn vocabulary used in those dialects (for example, "y'all" as a second person plural pronoun or "ain't" for negation, "reckon", "fixin' to", words like that if you're going for southern usamerican). Use apostrophes smartly, though, i'll repeat that the key is to read the lines out loud and decide what sounds right. As a rule, i only drop the -t in "that" when followed by a word beginning with a consonant because it "rolls easier" - and gives that effect of words being slurred together. "That ain't none of my business" is better because otherwise you'd have an awkward flow between the two ah- sounds, but "tha's none of my business" is better because otherwise you'd have a bit of a stop with the "ts" sound.

Or something to that effect. Read your lines out loud, try to speak with as little effort spent on moving your mouth as possible, and then try to express that in writing by dropping letters and blending words where needed. Trust your gut on what sounds natural. If it feels like you have to force it, it should probably be changed.

[seasidewanderers]

intro post time!

updated 24/12/2024

times someone at work called us by another name that's neither our chosen name, nor our anagraphical name today [24/12/2024] : back to 0 😔

we've had this blog for... around 3 years now I believe, and never made an intro post, so here it is!

we're the Seaside Wanderers, a plural system. please call us alters or headmates! we go by Aaron, Ae/Ea, or the current fronter's (pick a name, get one free!)

infamous Maternity Blackwood asker

we work full time. we have a job in electric power and gas trading and consulting. we may talk shit about stock prices now and then. ask us about it! weird ass job that your grandma won't believe it's a real actual job people do

(alter intros are under the cut along with other personal information)

no DNI, feel free to interact. if you'd have to break yours to interact with us, however, isn't the DNI kinda pointless anyway?

our syscourse stance is: anything that'll get you to talk to us like we're both living beings worthy of respect and capable to have a conversation. if you only do that when talking to anti endos, please imagine I'm anti endo. if you only do that when talking to pro endos, please imagine I'm pro endo. if you only do that when talking to endo neutrals, please imagine I'm anti neutral, etc. don't forget what you see on a screen, has someone behind, and first and foremost be kind.

the meaning of our system name is nothing special; we all love playing LOTRO (the Lord Of The Rings Online, a MMORPG based on LOTR. highly recommended!) and one of the titles you can get for your character is "Seaside Wanderer"

our alter tags are as follow for now, we'll update if someone else wants to participate in this blog:

#of rage and black tidings

#and no other choices

#tinker's curse

#vulpine era

#waterfront

#moon of the abyss

tag #for [ alter] to read is just our way of saving a post directed to someone

CDDs [Complex Dissociative Disorders, a term that encapsulate all traumagenic and dissociative disorders such as DID, OSDD-1, P-DID, and those cases of UDD that cause systemhood] are trauma-based

we support informed and researched self-diagnosis

I love and support YOU 🫵🏻 and I hope you're safe and having a good day, week, month, year and always! YOU deserve to feel good! yes, you! yes, you, person who might not agree with me, and who I might not agree with

personal, non-syscourse info here:

warning: flashing lights for a blinkie under the cut!

adult, 24+, Italian

we're collectively gendervoid, trans/non binary neumasc-leaning, use they/them, it/its, and ae/aer pronouns, and are omni gay and queer

we are also physically disabled and neurodivergent. we have chronic pain and chronic migraines, schizotypal personality disorder, and psychotic depression, so you might see us posting about it now and then

individual introductions for us alters (divided by layer)

this won't be all of us, just those more likely to participate in this blog. due to our system's nature as polyfragmented we wouldn't know all alters, either. updating this a few at a time so we don't get overwhelmed

Jackdaws

James, 18ish, he/him; fictive of James Kidd (Assassin's Creed Black Flag). I annoy Edward for a living. very opinionated. if you know my source no you don't, I'm James. caretaker 🤎

Edward, 23+, he/him; fictive of Edward Kenway (Assassin's Creed Black Flag). I like blabbering about my source and sing. pirate enjoyer, happy we now own a sword. role anarchist/I do whatever I feel like 🩶

Waterfront

Oscar, 300+, he/they + ae/aer; OCtive (homebrew Pathfinder 1e campaign), half-elf, sylph. I may talk about it sometimes and I like answering questions about it. I like my source a lot. married to Celain. trauma-related role, protector/persecutor 🩵

Celain (pronounced as Colin), immortal, he/they; OCtive (homebrew Pathfinder 1e campaign, same as Oscar), elf angel. I follow Pathfinder's fictional pantheon, but I'm making it work with our religions and spiritualities. married to Oscar. trauma-related role, protector/caretaker and religious/spiritual alter 🧡

Finnegan/Tristan, 19, he/they/it; OCtive (homebrew Pathfinder 1e campaign), kitsune. I love talking about Pathfinder 1e and being a silly little guy. trauma-related role 💖

Woljif, 24, he/they/it; fictive of Woljif Jefto (videogame Pathfinder Wrath Of The Righteous), tiefling. I talk A Lot. extrovert-looking introvert. trauma-related role 💜

[infwctednyacifier]

Thank you so much! One more request for the day, you mentioned K-Angel dating a P-Chan? Could you make P-Chan? Thank you a lot

-✨🎀

🖥️⋆｡ 🩹 ₊˚ 👁˚. SINGLE, NEEDY STREAMER OVERLOAD = P-CHAN – ALTER PACK

Hold on, before we get to the request, I think YOU made me form Kokichi and Shuichi???? AND Kokichi makes me feel like a vamp pup while Shuichi makes me feel like a dog mf I think I formed YOUR Headmates??????? Also P-Chan faceclaim is actually the same as our Jimmy's faceclaim but they have the same vibe,,, :3

Names – P - Chan „ Riyuko „ Acid „ Blaze „ Akihiko „ Botan

Nicknames – Riyu „ Koko „ Aki „ Hiko „ Bo

Age – 25

Pronouns – he / him „ hy / hym „ zi / zir „ xe / xem „ ( Plural ) they / them „ eye / eye's „ weird / weird's

Gender – transmasc ( bottom & top surgery ) „ pupgender „ kidcoric „ liminalgender „ backroomic „ weirdcoric „ boything

Terms – masc „ thing „ pup

Orientation – mygirlfriendsexual ( heterosexual but you get my point )

Personality – silly „ weird „ creepy „ shy „ introverted „ selective mute in public „ obsessed with his girlfriend „ weeb / otaku

Role – depression holder ( if system has depression ) „ autism holder ( if system has autism ) „ ADHD holder ( if system has ADHD ) „ chronic pain holder ( if system has chronic pain ) „ paranoid schizophrenia holder ( if system has paranoid schizophrenia ) „ Binge Eating Disorder holder ( if system has BED )

Species – humanoid ( Backrooms creature )

Source – Needy Streamer Overload

Emojis – 🖥️ „ 🎮 „ 👾 „ 👁 „ 🔪 „ 🩹

Extra – nothing „ really . ig struggles w hygiene due to fatigue + wanting to just watch Youtube / play Minecraft all day . Most likely has his own little subsystem „ i'd say about 3 - 4 Headmates? Isolgenic ( formed due to being lonely ) and endogenic as well . Doesn't use proper punctuation „ grammar + doesn't spell words fully due to being low spoon basically 24 / 7 . Used to and is at risk of relapsing into self harm + is always stressed and wants to c/t but remembers he promised to get better for K-Angel <3

Example message – um hi. I'm p-chan n I use he/hy/zi/xe/eye/weird n weirdcore prns + plural they/them. I'm a transmasc, pupgender, kidcoric, liminalgender, backroomic, weirdcoric boything pup n I'm from kokichi's coven n I don't like talking. I just like Minecraft n being around my gf <3333333

Likes – his girlfriend „ Minecraft „ eating „ watching Minecraft videos „ the Backrooms

Dislikes – cats „ jealousy „ failure „ being lied to / tricked „ spicy food

Faceclaims –

[housesorrowsupdates]

Note from the author about House Sorrows

Hi. Hello! Been a while. This is Pyrr. 

There are a few things about House Sorrows that I think are important to state, especially if you have not read Sendlingur og Sandlóa (which again, is not required) and aren’t familiar with how I write and the viewpoint I see the world from, which I think strongly colors the way you may consume this story.

If you have read Sendlingur og Sandlóa (SOS), basically expect more of the same as what you got, but with slightly different topics explored from the point of view of someone who is slightly older now and with the emotional intensity cranked up to an 11. If you are not familiar with SOS, please read this; I do not generally like to openly discuss author intent with my work unless specifically requested as part of a private conversation with people who have made an effort to befriend me. I am generally uncomfortable talking about my work in detail openly because I need readers to clearly understand that I prefer to hand my work over to interpretation rather than spell out every single intent behind everything (and my intent does not mean you cannot interpret a different meaning from my work, and I will say that quite often there are multiple and contradicting lines of intent I am putting forth at the same time intentionally to purposefully convey a plurality of meanings). However, I do think it is necessary in this instance to set things straight and speak to you directly in this way at the beginning so you understand where I am coming from, especially since the world is very, very difficult right now, and will likely get increasingly more difficult by the time I finish this story. I ask that you read this fully and completely before making any decisions you may or may not take.

In my view, in trying to have an honest and complete realistic discussion on what the ramifications of demi-immortal nationfolk inherently means, you have to talk about real serious topics like death/violence, mental illness/neurodivergence, difficult moral choices, sexuality/reproduction, substance abuse/addiction, the root of politics, and other such topics that are often viewed as difficult or taboo to talk about, especially in their extremes, despite being very much part of our objective reality (whether we like it or not, those things are not going away from the world).

As a wildlife biologist, wildlife rehabber, and museum taxidermist, it has been my job for over a decade to think about living organisms, their lives, their bodies, how they function, and the environments that support them. I cannot help but see the world through that lens. Humans are still biological beings at the end of the day and although we feel we are special and excluded from the rules of the natural world because of our technological society and sense of domination over the planet, we still are beholden to the same organic origin of the same nature that we once came from. We’re no less flesh than all other animals around us, and we are by no means the only intelligent or self-aware forms of life on the planet, either. I am also someone who has held countless things while they have died in my hands while trying to save them, I have seen bodies broken and contorted in truly horrific ways while still being very much alive, I have seen first hand what intentional cruelty mankind can inflict upon the world, and I have been in the difficult position where I, as an act of mercy, have to make the decision to euthanize wild animals that cannot be saved and cannot be comforted in their pain, crippled beyond repair as an unintentional byproduct of the actions of humans, over and over and over again, day in and day out, year after year after year. Sometimes, that even means ending the individual lives of an threatened or endangered species, despite knowing it is very possible and entirely likely that the entire species will be extinct and gone from the earth before I die myself. I may be one of the last people on this planet to know that organism in such a close intimate way, I may be one of the last people who gets to hold that living species in my own hands. I have to take full responsibility for taking that individual life as kindly as I can while also knowing in the back of my mind the horrific peril that species faces outside of that singular moment. I know that my efforts to conserve life on this planet may ultimately be in vain, and I will likely lose more battles than I win, and I will likely never see my efforts come to fruition in my lifetime. But I’ve done it anyway, because somebody has to at least try to stop it.

It is a brutally difficult thing to carry sometimes. 

It is also the greatest honor that I get to hold the memory of what soon may be gone for good, of things that most people won’t even know they will ever miss, won’t even know are gone, won’t even remember. 

I think these personal experiences give me a unique perspective on what being a nation must be like. I live and breathe in a world of life, death, complicated choices, complicated humans, complicated nature, and what I see as my duty to protect something much greater than myself, even if it pains me at times and causes me personal suffering. I have done this for a long time and it makes me feel very old and tired sometimes. And yet, I am still very young! My daily existence is inherently baked in with complexity in which there is no right answer. I think about it a lot. And my personal life outside of my work has been tumultuous, traumatic, and I have gone through many unfair and unforgivable things that no human being ever deserves to experience, and even then my experiences pale in comparison to some others who have suffered even more unimaginable horrors than mine. I have a very troubled understanding of what humanity is capable of and I have possessed that knowledge from a very early age. I have been trying to make sense of it all my entire life. And yet, those experiences are what lead me to this point, and are exactly why I am talking to you now! I have lived, despite it all, even if it has been messy, even if I haven’t always handled or conducted myself well. At the end of the day, we living beings, be us human or not, are all just trying to survive as best we can muster with what resources we have available to us.

Nationfolk, due to their relative immortality, must live in a similar framework of thought. I don’t think you can’t truly honestly seriously talk about nationfolk, humanity, immortality, the absurd timescale that nationfolk live on, and the philosophic ramifications with Hetalia (or ANY countryhuman content for that matter) without talking about difficult subjects and the varying attitudes humanity has towards them. I think in stories like this one, which is intentionally exploratory across so many topics, to NOT do so is a disservice to the reader and a disservice to the world we live in. But let me be very clear: it is my aim to discuss the world with as much grace, respect, accuracy, and empathy towards my fellow man as possible, while factoring in my own personal experiences when relevant, and I will not tackle subjects that I do not feel equipped or knowledgeable enough to tackle. If you have read Sendlingur og Sandlóa, you will already be familiar with what I mean and my style of approaching difficult things. You cannot see the light without acknowledging the dark. You cannot understand the world for what it is if you run away from the difficult parts of it. You will fail to understand yourself if you don't call into question why you feel and think about certain things the way you do. If humanity wants to build a better future, we need to be much more honest and open. With all of it, even the painful bits. It is sometimes good to be uncomfortable. Sometimes it is necessary to be uncomfortable. That is how we grow.

I also know that there are a lot of things that are completely normalized to me that are not normalized to most people. I hold the things I love most as they expire in my hands and to me it is yet another Tuesday. There are aspects of life, death, and all that entails that make a lot of people very uncomfortable that I am extremely comfortable with because I have been in this field since I was a young teenager. I personally think it is extremely important to face those things head on in a respectful way instead of shying away from them, but I also understand that not everyone is in a place where they can do that. I may be totally comfortable talking about death, but maybe you aren't. I may be comfortable with discussions of sexuality, but maybe you aren't. Maybe you can't engage with a character, a topic, a ship - I get it. Our sensitivities are individually complicated in ways few others can understand. It is up to you to navigate your own personal daggers – but I am not responsible for your own knife fights, just in the same way you are not responsible for mine.

This is how I am going to be handling content warnings (and tagging): I think they are absolutely necessary given some of what I wish to write about as a courtesy in these difficult times, but I also want to give people the choice to go in blind (as I think the story is more effective that way, and would be personally how I would like to consume it as a reader). I will not be stating before each chapter anything about it, but here on this blog I will be listing any potential triggers/additional tags associated with each subsequent chapter, and I will update some major tags on the story with each chapter release too (including characters, ships, etc. as they appear). This allows those who want to keep things a surprise to enjoy the story that way, while also protecting those who may be sensitive and need a forewarning about certain topics (and I do include myself in this group, for the record). There is no wrong or right way to consume this story. There is no wrong or right way to interpret it, either. It is yours to experience and consume and take away from it what you wish, if anything. It will not be perfect, as no work ever is perfect. I will do my best to be respectful and responsible to the well-being of others. In return, I ask that you please be respectful of me, my very complicated perspective on the world, and my efforts to convey to you a piece of art that I hope will bring many of you either a sense of peace or a greater sense of appreciation for the messy beautiful terrible world we all call home. This is our contract with each other.

If you have read the final notes of SOS or know me personally well, you know that SOS was written from a deeply personal place influenced by my own personal challenges. It started as a story I thought was conceptually interesting and it only became infinitely more personal and a reflection of myself in retrospect, and sometimes those self-realizations only occurred years after I wrote it. It is, and was, a deeply personal work.

House Sorrows is yet another case study of this phenomenon. In the simplest terms imaginable, House Sorrows is a by proxy unraveling the entirety of my lifelong unresolved grief and trying to figure out what to do constructively with the deep damage that I see in myself and in the world at large, as seen through the eyes of a young conservation biologist tasked with trying to solve seemingly insurmountable environmental problems while living in an age of growing global distrust and instability, and trying to find unconditional love for humanity anyway through a philosophy of radical hope. Part of the reason why this chapter has taken so long for me to write is because I suddenly have had a series of physical, mental, and emotional breakdowns that lead me to learn things about myself that I didn’t know had always been there. I have had to leave behind what should have been the apex of my professional career and stop working entirely in order to start tending to the deep wounds I didn’t know I had. Art imitates life. Life imitates art. And so it goes. I, ultimately, have always wanted to create something meaningful out of my suffering. I say all of this to you up front so that you can understand me better, and so that we can all have greater empathy, sympathy, and/or compassion for one another. And, remember that at the end of the day, this is a piece of fanfiction – I am not doing this for pay or prestige or attention and I have very little to gain no matter how you look at it. I am doing this because I need to tell this story for myself, and I also fundamentally believe that sharing this story will truly help a few people out there and make a positive impact on their lives. That, to me, is all that matters.

If I get something wrong with history, culture, or language, please tell me, as I am not a historian/cultural expert by any means and I have to re-teach myself a lot of what I have forgotten since I wrote SOS, as well as teach myself new things. I will try my best, but I cannot possibly hope to get things right 100% of the time even with my best efforts, and it is ultimately improbable to realistically ask me to do so for everything, again, for a piece of fanfiction. I am open to critique, corrections, and the like and will take any I receive with serious consideration, but at the end of the day my aim is towards the purpose of serving the greater narrative and messages rather than complete accuracy in all things (although I will do my best to accomplish that too).If you are interested in me writing about a historical/cultural topic/character/etc. and incorporating that in the story, I do take suggestions during this early period and may write it if you ask and I feel I can make it fit!  But I do have clear aims, goals, and all the main story beats have been planned. I already know how all of this ends, and the very last chapter was written well before anything else was. So I may not explore everything offered, but I will consider it.

Writing this story will take me time, and it will be slow. Please be patient with me. I am trying to recuperate from many things, but I am working on it every single day, whether I write a word or not. 

Know it is never my intent with my work to do harm, only to offer the honest way I see the world and express the difficult but genuine love that I have to have for all of it. I do so with the hope that it helps people who have suffered in the same ways I have suffered. I do so because stories like this one are what I needed to read at one point in my life and never got to read, and I feel that it is my duty is to pass on what I have learned to those who need it so that they won’t feel like they are in the dark alone in the same way I once did. Please remember that if you are also struggling, even if you feel alone, you are not alone, and you are never truly alone. Take care of yourself. The world will need you when the right moment comes. Thank you for being here with me, regardless whether this is your first time here or not. For those of you who have been here before, I am sorry it took so long for me to come back and finish what I started. I love you and I hope you have been well. I hope I can again be worthy of your time. 

We will be together until the end.

- pyrrhocorax