#time to get to the drafts and inbox.. dies

[glacialswordsman-a]

last doodle to post for now of @tartagla @poswiecenia and my characters uwu

[theunconcernedembalmer]

...so my laptop finally died

[blublublujk]

good girl, gone bad

oneshot

word count: 6k

genre: established (secret) relationship

pairing: good girl y/n x bad boy jk

summary:

“I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.” You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.” What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

warnings: basically just pwp but plot went missing (oops!), swearing, smoker jk (i swear if anyone complains in my inbox i'll haunt you), explicit sexual content; jk has a huge dick ok, consensual recording/pictures, car sex (don't fuck in a car), hickeys, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, breast play, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, come shot (on face), slut shaming (again lol), come tasting/swallowing, stomach bulge (my fault i love this one), choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie

a.n: sorry for a late update hope yall dont mind, but i just wanna get rid of all my drafts they are PILING. lol forgive me for only always writing about jungkook, but he's so easy to write about. he breathes, and i instantly open my notes app (im not even joking). this has been sitting in my drafts since his LA trip (iykyk) it sparked a conversation and i wrote it. i want that man bad... and im lesbian :D

ANYWAYS enjoy and STREAM GOLDEN for our golden bunny <3

p.s: i'll probably come back to this couple but its a oneshot for now... but wouldn't no nut nov be fun with this jk?? everyone say yesss. ok bye.

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

“Ugh, what a piece of shit.”

Before you even get to ask who, the motorcycle roars back to life across the parking structure belonging to the very one and only, Jeon Jungkook. A group of college jocks crowd around the man. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, he’s not paying it much attention though. He's deep in conversation, laughing at something one of them said, clearly more invested in the joke than anything else around him. 

As the laughter dies down, he looks over, eyes connecting while he brings the cigarette to his pierced lip, slowly inhaling the toxic fume. The terribly annoying (yet somehow sexy) tattooed jock on his loud motorcycle winks towards your direction, before selfishly exhaling that poisonous smoke into the air. Fuck, you really, really wanted to hate him too. 

“Yuck.” Karina gags with a scrunch to her nose, turning a cold back to them and you’re grateful to her because you almost get stuck in his lustful gaze. 

“Yeah… yuck.” You reply with no real meaning somehow managing to convince her you meant it.

“I hate him and his stupid friends. They are killing the Earth slowly and they don’t even give a fuck!” Karina argues in all her given glory and in her environmental science major mindset. “Plus those cancer sticks reek, why must the general public suffer because they can’t last thirty without them.”

Jungkook could last thirty without them. Way more than thirty when you were around him, especially when he was given something (or someone) to entertain himself with, but you couldn't say that aloud so the sudden thoughts stayed safe and sound in your head. 

“No, no they don’t. But what can we do?” There’s a sigh and then you clear your throat. “Should we get going now?”

Your arm wraps around hers, gesturing the way back to campus with a swift wave where you both had been meaning to study given that classes finally started cramping in heavy assignments.

“Yes, please.” Karina is quick to sharply turn her heel and walk back towards the building. “I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.”

You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.”

What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

—-

“You taste disgusting.” There’s a muffled laugh pressed into your lips, as your tongues meet halfway, meeting each other’s lips in a bruising wet kiss. Your ass grinds roughly against his lap, groaning into your mouth while you bring your ass flush down, feeling his soft cock harden below you. His right hand grips your right ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, before smacking it (with love, of course!). 

“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, bringing his mouth against your throat, sucking and licking everywhere there was space. He sneakily leaves little love bites behind even though he knows you’ll kill him for this later because you have somewhere to be after this. He even bites your ear lobe gently between his teeth, before he cockily whispers. “You love it though.”

The whimper that leaves your mouth should be illegal. It only drives Jungkook crazier. 

Both hands find purchase on your ass now, spanking you once again in each cheek. Though Jungkook was a bit disappointed he wasn’t seeing your flushed bare cheeks on top of him, but he guesses he can settle for now. “You gonna let me fuck you now baby?”

He gropes your asscheeks without any hesitation, still leaving wet kisses buzzing onto your skin, stealing a quick kiss from your raw-bitten lips. 

“Mm, only if you ask nicely.” You tease, dragging a finger along his jawline.

With this, Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. Your hand comes to fist his hair, while he drops another wet smooch onto your lips. “You know I’d do anything for a piece of this ass angel.”

You smile into the kiss, grinding harder against his now– hard cock. You felt your folds leak of your own arousal. It was so undeniable. The attraction between you two, the desire to take each other apart, to be within each other’s arms. There was no place like Jungkook’s lap. Here you could stay forever.

“Imagine what people would say if they saw you like this baby.” Jungkook starts teasing, tugging your shirt off with no trouble. Your breasts catch his attention, noticing that you are wearing that black lingerie set he had bought for you last Valentine’s Day. “Fuck. Look at you baby.”

He squishes your breasts together, leaning up to kiss the uncovered tender flesh on both sides. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans back. “I– nghhh.”

“Did you expect to get fucked today princess? Hmm? Is this all for me?” Jungkook’s words work like magic, they drip off his sinful tongue like honey. You bring your body flush against his, burying your blushing face against his neck. “Don’t get shy on me baby, tell me. Did you wear this all for me?”

He purrs sweetly and you only nod, cheeks burning red. 

It's not like you were embarrassed of him, no in fact, you were happy to announce that the college campus’ certified bad boy is all yours and has been for the past two years. 

There was no exact moment to this, the attraction had always been there. 

You had first officially met Jungkook in one of your general ed classes. Statistics, to be exact, which he would have one-hundred percent failed had it not been for you passing him the answers mid exams. It wasn’t like that to begin with of course, it took you some convincing. To be fair and to your excuse, it was so hard to say no to those beautiful big brown eyes.

At first, you assumed he was doing this all, acting lost and playing dumb, to get into your pants which he succeeded. However you had enough dignity left to make him work for it. Until you realized those secret smiles, stolen glances, and subtle hand holds were much more than just a silly game. You had fallen for his charm, and against everyone’s advice to stay far away from him, you fell in love with the (not so terrible) bad boy and let him take over your heart completely. It happened so randomly and so all at once. It was confusing, new, but most of all, liberating. 

Being with Jungkook was so freeing and the thrill of being caught with him was so worth it. It didn’t matter what people thought of you or him, you both were willing to die on this hill of love. 

Jungkook, too, had fallen quickly. How could he not? There was nothing to dislike and everything to love. Your pouty scolds, he looked forward to. The stolen glances across campus were his favorite, a secret only you and him held close to heart. There were times where your cheeks would flush pink, because he would steal kisses from you behind the campus library. You were seriously his favorite person ever. 

“Jungkook stop! What if someone sees us?” You would whisper-shout, a pout would form against your will. 

Jungkook would just kiss your worries away again and again and then say. “You’re the cutest little thing alive baby.” 

“Are you trying to change the subject?” It was hard to speak between kisses, that and the fact that he would squish your cheeks together like the adorable boyfriend he was. 

“I don’t know. Is it working?” His reply was cheeky and lips would start trailing down your neck and then you determined, yes. Yes, it is working. Fuck it all. 

It’s safe to say, he was yours since the start of it all, as you were his. Wrapped in each other’s fingers before anyone had realized it, now you were inseparable. 

“Answer me princess.” Jungkook pulls you back gently, observing your flushed face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Of course, this only makes you blush harder, but you do manage to admit. “Y-Yes… I wore this only for you. Always for you.”

Jungkook smiles, pecking your cheek. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive angel.”

He cradles your face, before leaning in to kiss you. This time, you guys take your time. Your mouths stay closed, taking the time to really feel the plushy feeling against your own and enjoy each other’s presence. You felt as if you were floating in clouds. 

“Jungkook.” You mumble onto his lips and he hums, but that’s not enough so you call his name once more with intent. “Jungkook.”

He pulls back with a questioning look. “Yes, my love?”

“Can you please just fuck me already?” The words come out barely above a whisper, even after fucking you so many times, you could be so shy at times.

Jungkook breaks out into a bunny-like grin, holding back a stifled laugh. “So much for wanting to make me say please, look at who’s pleading now.” 

“J-Jungkook…” Your face goes hot again and he laughs once more, patting your ass softly.

“Okay. Okay, my love. Enough teasing, I’ll fuck you since you asked so nicely baby.” Jungkook takes his sweet time taking off his own shirt, and pulling your skirt off. It was a bit tricker, given you were both in your car which was not fit for two people even in the backseat, but you guys always made it work. 

You were still scared to ride to campus with him as much as he begged you to because it would blow your secret relationship, but fucking on campus has yet to be off-limits. Mainly because Jungkook fucks you all too well, and you aren’t one to say no to good dick (oops).

He attaches his mouth right above the bare skin of your left breast. He holds your tits in his hands, pushing them together, stuffing his face right between them. Jungkook makes sure to pay attention to both breasts (it’s only fair), rubbing your hard buds through the black lace which hardly covers them. You bite back a moan, feeling him rut up against your heat, his hard length pressing stiffly against you, your walls already clenching, desperate to feel him inside you.

His tattooed hand slips below, releasing the nipple he had been tugging on earlier. You feel the tip of his fingertips brush against your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Surely by now, you were dripping onto the lace. His erection is still pressing against your inner thigh. “D-Don’t wait then.”

Your boyfriend smiles, bringing his lips to yours. “Behave. You’ll get some dick inside you soon.”

Like the brat you were, your eyes rolled back so used to being spoiled. He pays it no mind though because his tongue comes out again, licking your lips apart. Your tongues meet once more, this time you suck his tongue into your mouth, brushing it against the roof of your mouth. He taste quite bitter, it’s the cigarette from earlier, yet somehow and against all judgement, he tastes fucking delicious. Especially when a grunt slips from his throat, feeling you roll your barely covered folds against his fingers.

He allows this, putting more pressure with two fingers, feeling you drench his fingertips even through your panties. Jungkook pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, spit mixing as he reciprocates the favor, sucking gently on your tongue. You tasted like the strawberries you had earlier for lunch and Jungkook groans, greedily swallowing the taste in your mouth. 

What an innocent sweet little thing you were and he was about to ruin you all. 

Cigarettes and strawberries. 

Quite the pair. 

You whine into his mouth, unable to hold back much longer. “Please, Jungkook…”

He smirks against your mouth. How much he loved the way you fell apart on his cock. Especially more, when he had barely had his hands on you and you were already begging for more. Jungkook pulls back, but not before you whine a soft “no.” He holds your cheeks in his palms, forcing you to look directly into his hazy eyes. 

“Imagine if people knew baby.” His voice comes out more sultry, rough around the edges. His thumb carrasses your cheek, patting your mouth open. “How much of a slut you were for this dick.”

His words make you mewl (he knows how much you get off to this thought), he slowly eases two fingers into your mouth, holding your chin in place. You made sure to suck on them as he liked, your tongue coming flat against them. 

Jungkook bucks his hips into yours, chest rising while he watches you suck, like the good girl you were. “Imagine if they really knew, baby? Such a sweet girl like you, with someone so dangerous and reckless like me. What would they say? Hmm?”

He pulls out his fingers, seeing them barely glisten under the light.

“I- I don’t know.” Your voice is dry and soft yet, you are incredibly horny.

“You don’t know? I have a few ideas.” Jungkook chuckles, hands brushing along your back. “Can this come off?” 

He tugs your bra from behind and you hesitate to nod permission. “Good, I wanna watch them bounce when I finally fuck you.”

By now, you have given up resisting him, so you moan pathetically as he shreds your bra with ease and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the tender bud into his tongue, flicking it and placing it between his teeth. He tugs and licks the sting away, watching with hooded eyes as you squirm against him. Your face burns imagining the idea. 

What if people knew? How would your friends react? They would surely be disappointed, Jungkook was good for nothing but trouble. Yet, he was perfect to you. You were willing to defend him from hell and back. Whatever it took for them to believe you. 

Jungkook moves to the other bud, placing it into his mouth, cupping and gripping your breasts. His mouth was hot and heavy against your nipple, his tongue caressing the hard bud. He squeezes them one last time before letting them drop, watching them bounce gently against your chest. Yup, Jungkook was the luckiest man alive. There was nothing better than this moment right here.

Heat travels your body quickly, feeling your own chest rise, struggling to breathe in the steamy car. Your boyfriend looks down, communicating with his eyes instead of actually saying anything, your hands quickly move to his belt, tugging them off and throwing it anywhere else. Desperately, you unbuckle his jeans, harshly pulling his boxer down, just enough to watch his dick spring out. The flushed, wet length smacks against his stomach, watching as his abs clench at the sensation. If you stare any longer, you’ll start drooling. “So good for me angel.” 

There’s no time to waste. 

“Wanna suck you off.” You breathe out, voice filled with desire and lust, clearly it takes over because usually his girlfriend was much shyer and timid, but that all disappeared when Jungkook’s cock was present. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook watches you drop on your knees, your pretty knees will for sure suffer the consequences of your horny choice, but there was no stopping this. He pats his thighs as he leans back to give you enough space. “I’m all yours, baby girl.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek when he feels your warm mouth wrap around his dick. Your tongue comes out messily, practically salivating and dripping all over him. There’s probably not a single day that goes by that you aren’t sucking his dick, but it was quite the experience every damn time. 

“F-Fuck, I wish you could see yourself.” He struggles a bit because the sight is fucking sinful and if people knew you like he did, they wouldn’t believe the person in front of him. 

His personal little cockslut. 

You pop off for a second, hand still wrapped around his length covered in your spit. “Yeah? Then take a picture for me, Kook.”

Double fuck.

When you first started dating Jungkook, you were against any pictures at all. After time passed and to his luck, you came around and you would let him take pictures, but only if he promised your face wasn’t in the frame. Now, his camera roll is covered with images of you and your blooming relationship. You didn’t care anymore about covering or blurring your face out. His camera roll consisted of just about everything, pictures of you sleeping peacefully against his chest as you would nap, videos of you laughing on the random adventures he would take you on, but never images of you nude. Never ever was he allowed anything that could probably incriminate you both, even if he would beg, ever-so sweetly. It seems like you came around after all. Bless you.

“Fuck, don’t talk to me like that princess, you have no idea what that does to me.” He’s never heard you sound so fucking sexy. Jungkook bites his lip, recovering his phone that had dropped earlier on the carpet. “You sure about this baby?”

“Yes.” Then you are back on his cock and he shudders, already snapping a few pictures. Your eyes looked up at the camera, making a show out of it all.

Jungkook tries controlling his heavy breathing but with a sinful tongue like yours, it’s impossible. “Can I record this princess, only if you’ll let me, of course.”

You take him deeper into your throat and nod furiously on his cock. You trusted him enough, you knew Jungkook could never hurt a single soul, unless they tried him. Point is, he would never do anything to break that trust so hell yeah, why not add more to his long collection.

“God, you are so perfect baby. Made for me and only me.” Jungkook’s voice is nothing short of possessiveness. He presses record, caressing your hair softly, almost petting you for your work like the good girl you were for him. “Imagine if they knew how well you take cock baby. How perfect those plump lips look around my dick. You’re like a dream come true princess, my personal cockslut.” 

You moan around his length, loving the bitter taste on your tongue and Jungkook has to hold back from fucking your throat, though he thinks you’ll love it anyways. 

“Can I fuck your throat?” His voice is raspy and you open your mouth wider, nodding so prettily with dick stuffed in your mouth. Jungkook is careful when placing your hair in a little makeshift ponytail for the meantime and as best as he can with one hand as he starts to thrust into your warm mouth. “So beautiful and all mine. Isn’t that right princess?”

You don’t get to reply, but the vibrations of your moans that manage to run through his cock  answer for you and it almost makes him smile. What a good girl you were. Pretty things like you deserved to be spoiled and he couldn’t wait to give you the fucking world. 

And was he fucking loving the show you were putting on for him becoming more needy and desperate on camera, your eyes rolled as he brutally used your throat for his liking. 

Jungkook bites at his bottom lip as he begins to roll his hips with much more force, feeling your throat take him down with greed. “Fuck baby, your throat feels amazing. Taking me so good.” 

He lets you go when he feels you tap his thigh and you gasp for air, tears threatening to leak down your face. “W-Want you to come on my face.”

Your voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at your sweet request. 

“Aren’t you just perfect for me today baby. Just you wait, you’ll get the best dick of your entire lifetime.” Not that you would know since he was your first and he knows that, proudly carries that in his cocky ego, but you always believed him. No one could fuck you better than this, you were sure. You bat your eyes at his promise and he comes down to kiss you messily, the camera records jackshit, but it captures your whiny moans and the sound of your lips smacking against one another. He pulls off with one last kiss and adjusts the camera frame back towards you as he takes his hard length and slaps his swollen, wet dick along your cheek. “Open up princess, I’m really fucking close.” 

You take him in with no hesitation and go to fucking work. Slurping and licking all over his length, your chin dripping with saliva, but you don’t even care anymore because his grunts and whines keep you going. 

Every now and then you look up at the camera making sure you do your best to keep him coming back. You know he will probably rewatch this every night that you aren’t there with him. And your predictions are correct because Jungkook’s already planning on watching this tonight and jacking off to it while you are out with Karina doing God knows what. All he knows is his sweet girl will be doing something productive while he’ll be coming undone in your gracious honor.

“I’m close baby.” He groans sexily, and his breathing starts to become sharp. “Look up baby, right into the camera, gonna come all over that perfect fucking face.”

Doing as he says, you look up sucking him dry, your hands come to relieve what you can’t cover with your tongue. His hand pushes you off for a second. “Tongue out baby.”

He fucks his fist and it doesn’t take long before he squirts his load all over your face, grateful that most of it lands on your tongue, you swallow it all immediately, humming gracefully at the salty taste. 

Jungkook’s eyes are blown out as he catches his breath and lets his dick flop back down against his thigh, you look like a fucking sin and he must be the Devil because he’s about to commit about thirty tonight. “Give me a second princess.”

He says between breaths as he stops recording with one last picture of your come-soiled face, still breathing heavily as he throws his phone on the floor again, thankful that he has something for later. You giggle against him and he almost awes as you throw your head against his bare thighs into a laughing fit. “Okay.” 

He huffs a dry laugh and pulls you up. “Times up. Come here.” 

Jungkook is quick to capture you in a sloppy kiss, not minding the leftover mess of come on your face, he doesn’t wanna mess up his masterpiece just yet. You soon grow desperate in his arms, but this time he doesn’t mess around. 

“Lay down.” Your bare back lands on the seats and he shoves himself between your thighs. Again, it’s steamy and fucking cramped in your car, but you both couldn’t care any less right now. 

His tongue hits your slit not bothering to move your matching panties, but the effect is almost the same. He licks a long strip watching you soil the silky lace mixing his spit with your own arousal. 

You moan sweetly as your legs come apart letting him completely devour your heat. Jungkook pulls off, tugging your spoiled little black panties to the side and continues on with his mission. His tongue finds your clit and you swear you could come like this. 

“R-Right there. Please.” Your boyfriend doesn’t let up either, eating your sweet pussy like it deserves. His tongue flicks your bud, building the sensation in your tummy. Jungkook sucks on your clit selfishly.

His chin is covered in your arousal. He’s humming and moaning deep inside your pussy, your juices stick onto his tongue like candy and he greedily swallows the treat whole. 

“B-Baby.” Your voice is struggling like his was earlier, but it’s there. He lifts his face from your heat, eyes in a lust-filled trance. Jungkook knows he’s pussy-whipped, but at least he admits his problems!

“Yes, my baby.” Jungkook’s eyes are blown out and he looks just as wrecked as you are. 

“C-Can I take a picture?” He almost gapes at your request, the amount of times you took him by surprise today. At this point, he would let you do anything, fuck his morality!  

“Do whatever you want princess. Pictures, videos. I’m all yours.” He gives you his full consent and permission to do anything so you are quick to grab his phone (you’ll send them over to yourself later) and start snapping pictures while he dives back in for seconds. 

Jungkook keeps your legs open while you are a whimpering mess above him, struggling to get the best picture. You have no idea how he was doing this himself, the pictures come out blurry as he continues to devour you as if it was his last meal.

He also puts on a show for the camera like you did so nicely earlier for him. Jungkoook’s eyes hood as he stares up, he even winks for the shot. If college didn’t ever work out for either of you, this would be something to look into. Good thing that was not the case, at least for you, his little straight A student. 

“I’m g-gonna come.” This only makes your boyfriend go crazier between your folds. He drops eye-contact with the camera and instead solely focuses on that pretty pussy presented for him. Jungkook’s tongue is sin itself, not letting up once as more arousal drips out of you. He slowly teases a finger inside, building your orgasm quickly as he fucks you open with his middle finger. “I’m– nghh. Fuh-fuck!”

The sentence is never finished as you start to squirt onto his tongue, creating your own little masterpiece on his face. Jungkook has never swallowed anything down faster than right now and he’s loving every second of it. Completely pussy-whipped and all, but at least he’s happy!

Your boyfriend finally detaches himself from your heat and the sight is nearly adorable. His hair is now all fucked up and he’s a sticky mess everywhere (you are sure you look no better). 

“Yum, I could do that all day.” Jungkook shamelessly says. 

“Mm, I’m sure.” You say coming down from your own orgasm, he gives you a few seconds to breathe as you set his phone down again. Jungkook takes his shirt from the floor and wipes himself clean. He does the same but it’s no use, the come that landed on your face has dried up and he doesn’t wanna scrub it off and end up hurting your precious face. 

Jungkook kisses your cheek affectionately as an apology. 

“There’s dry come on my face right?” You start to scold him, but he smiles with all his teeth apologetically and you forgive him at that moment. 

“Guilty.” He smirks, proud of his work, he thinks you truly haven't looked better. 

Wrapping arms and legs around your boyfriend you whisper innocently. “I was promised dick of a lifetime, unless… unless you lied to me?”

Jungkook scrunches his nose cutely while he looks at your perfect pouty face, doe-eyes begging to be fucked. “I never lie, not to you at least.”

He makes you laugh and he detangles your legs from his waist. “Now let me focus, I have a reputation to uphold.”

There’s no laughing once two fingers press into you and you gasp at the invading feeling, but the stretch only burns for a while before it turns into pleasure and you are whimpering at his touch. “Fingers so deep.”

He smiles and you throw your head back. “Yeah? My dick goes even deeper baby, I’m just making sure you can take it.”

“I can take it.” You breathe out against his pink lips. “I was made for you.”

The taller’s eyes nearly eat you alive, fuck you were so sexy. “That you were baby. My perfect little cockslut.” 

His fingers pull out of you brutally and you whine, but he kisses you roughly making you forget the loss. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it with purpose. You squirm in his hands and he pops off your lips. 

Fingers coated with your arousal trace your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking your own juices off the tattooed fingers, moaning at the delicate taste, his other hand still locked around your throat. 

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” You nod around his fingers and he finally lets go, gasping for fresh air. “‘M gonna fuck you now baby.” 

Your legs fly open in response, letting him have his way with you. 

“Do me a favor?” He asks while taking his hard length in his hand, jerking himself off while he awaits your response. 

“What?” You hum, confusion written all over your face. 

“Record this for me. I want you to see how I break you apart. How this pretty pussy makes a mess all over my dick. I want you to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.” His voice drops a few octaves and you can’t help but gasp and moan at his vulgar use of words. 

You used to be innocent, at least, that’s what Jungkook used to think. In a way, he thinks you still are. Untouched and pure, only for his eyes and his hands to touch. Jungkook is honored that he was your first, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was gentle and took care of you every step of the way. It was like that until you were begging and pleading for more. Sweet then, and sweet now.

He’s created a little monster, but he knows that your heart is pure and that’s what he loves most about you. 

“Okay, yes.” His phone is back in your hands and you click record, watching him line-up his cock. Jungkook groans as he disappears snuggly inside you. “Mmm.”

He lets you get used to the feeling and once he feels your breathing stabilize he starts to thrust himself with strong strokes inside you. 

Like the first time, you are struggling with the phone because you can’t stop shivering and shaking, you feel him in your guts and recording is much harder than pictures because it lasts longer and you can't stay still for that long. Not with dick inside you.

“K-Kook. I— oh.” You stop to moan when he hits your g-spot and he continues ramming that same spot over and over. “I- I can’t. Hand’s shaking.”

Your sweet boyfriend grabs the phone and lets you settle yourself. “That’s okay princess, I got you. Just lay there, I’ll take care of you.” 

He records himself ramming into you for a few minutes, watching himself disappear into you on camera. The taller one can't even believe this is his reality. How did this even happen and most of all with him of all people? He truly was the luckiest man alive! 

“‘S deep, Kook.” He fondles one of your breasts as he keeps a harsh pace, rubbing the hard nub with his thumb. 

“Yeah baby? Tell me where you feel it.” He whispers loving the way you tremble, your gaze struggling to keep up with his. 

“Right here.” You touch right below your belly, palm flat against the feeling of his cock inside you. “So so deep.” 

You mumble something else, but he doesn’t get to hear it because your high pitched moans drown everything out. He lets go of your breast watching them bounce as he continues to pound straight into your sweet spot. 

The camera catches it all though. The mess between your thighs look just as delicious on film as they do in real time. The sounds you make, the squelching noise that is being created by his cock going deep inside you, and most of all, it captures your beautiful face as it comes apart. 

He presses on your stomach right where your own palm rests and you strangle out a whine. “I- I can’t. T-Too much.” 

“You can take it. Remember?” His dick tears through you from the inside and you start yelling when he increases his pace. He’s fucking you mercilessly now and you can’t control the sounds that escape. “You were made for me, princess.”

“Yes, yes, I am.” You sound beautiful, but you would kill him if you guys got caught now especially in the position you guys are in. 

His firm hand finally comes off your stomach and instead two fingers go inside your mouth, muffling your screams and whines. 

The car rocks back and forth. He’s sure people know what the fuck is going on, the windows are foggy as fuck, for fuck’s sake, but you would hate him much worse for not finishing you off.

“Mmff, don— stopff.” He nearly giggles as you struggle to speak, but he keeps his promise quite well. He fucks you ever harder and deeper, his cock will surely fall off after this, but it’s all worth it. He slams inside, bottoming out fully before pulling out and repeating the same steps. “Fuhh-uk.”

“You like that baby?” Jungkook rasps feeling you squeeze tightly around him, which only means one thing, you are really fucking close. “Gonna come all over my cock princess?” 

“Mmff.” You are quick to nod and hum sweetly. He decides to pull his fingers out, spit dripping all over. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Harder Kook- ah!”

Jungkook almost forgets he’s recording and he centers the camera again, wanting to capture every last second of this. You are glistening all over, he’s made a complete mess of you, but he is no better. Jungkook is dripping sweat and yet, that doesn’t stop his mean and precise strokes against your velvet walls, stretching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. 

The final straw is when you feel his messy fingers start toying with your clit and you are coming once again all over your back seats and wetting his cock just how he likes it. Being a squirter had its own perks with a boyfriend like Jungkook because that meant he never stopped fucking you until you completely had nothing more to give. 

Jungkook curses when he starts to see your orgasm trinkle out, he fucks you all through it though, feeling the water-like pressure against his slit. And it doesn’t take long before an orgasm catches up to him. 

“Inside.” You plead with a pout, eyes completely blown out. 

With one last curse Jungkook comes deep inside your walls. He catches his breath for a few moments before pulling out slowly, making sure to capture the dribble of his come which sadly hangs onto your hole. “Push it out for me princess.” 

“Nooo, we’re gonna make a mess Kook.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile on his face because a mess has already been made. 

“I’ll clean it. Now, push it out baby.” You almost cover your face because you are sure you turned red, but you start to push his seed out of your hole and he’s tempted to fuck it back inside. 

“Fuck. That’s it baby. Perfect comeslut. Isn’t that right?” He stops recording once he’s gotten the shot he wanted and he starts to wipe you down with his shirt, lucky enough that he has a back-up hoodie to cover him after he’s done. 

“Yes, all yours.” 

You both smile against each other’s lips before he whispers. “I love you princess.” 

“I love you more.” 

“Impossible baby.”

—-

JK❤️: hiiii 🙂

me: hi baby :) everything okay?

JK❤️: marvelous 😇 i just came watching that video we took earlier ;))

me: baby! 😠  i'm out with karina! can you not talk about sex for two seconds while im out

JK❤️: sure! just came all over myself totally wasn't watching our sextape back ;)))

me: nice talk jungkook.

JK❤️: come home soon~~ i miss you :((((

me: love you too lol

JK❤️: not more than me. come home soon im serious!!!

me: i'll see you later jungkook. ❤️

JK❤️: 😠😠😠 

me: ❤️❤️❤️

[beforetimes]

On the role reversal au: Binghe's pov of Shen Yuan falling into the abyss

Like? Binghe dissociating over the cognitive dissonance of his sweet, precious disciple being a demon. He pointed his sword at the boy demon, convinced that he would show his true nature. Hurls accusations. Because he had to believe the kindness was a trick of Shen Yuan's or else where would that leave the one absolute he believed in in this fucked up world?

Except Shen Yuan starts pleading. Begging his Shizun to let him explain. To believe him. To let him live, to let him leave.

And it's the most selfish, greedy part of him that snaps out in anger through the haze of his mind that Shen Yuan, the caring, doting boy he needed to be able to even find the will to crawl out of bed some days was not allowed to leave him.

He finally sees the earnest, desperate, begging eyes full of tears, asking Shizun not to hurt him. Not a demon, just Shen Yuan.

No, no, that can't be right, can't be real, because if it is, then he'd just stabbed his most precious disciple, hurled heinous accusations at him. The sweetheart of a boy who is the reason he has the will to even get out of bed some days. Shen Yuan has to show his real colors as a demon or else- or else-

The cliff crumbles under Shen Yuan. And Binghe sees the thing that will replay in his worst nightmares to come:

Shen Yuan, as his mind registers that he's falling, instinctively reaches out to Binghe, silently pleading one last time for Binghe to save him from falling into hell, despite everything Binghe had done not moments before.

And Binghe had done nothing but watch him fall.

Shen Yuan had only ask Binghe to listen. Pleaded that he was still the same boy.

And Binghe had let him fall.

Binghe had let him die.

Shen Yuan, who had continuously reached out to Binghe through ups and downs, reached out one last time for Binghe to save him, and Binghe had let him die.

It was no different than if Binghe had actually pushed the boy off the cliff himself.

Binghe falls to his knees and wretches. Among the grass, he spots glints of familiar, shimmering silver. The shards of Xui Ya that had broken when it couldn't handle the outpouring of Shen Yuan's demonic Qi.

He had thought the blade perfect for Shen Yuan when he'd received it. A beautiful blade for a beautiful soul. A perfect mirror of who Shen Yuan was. How could Binghe have said such awful things to him, when it was clear to anyone who looked at his blade and seen how perfect he was?

And, he thinks back, was it not Shen Yuan who had tried to convince Binghe that some demons could be good too, just like how humans are both? Had Shen Yuan some inkling into his origins and tried to test how Binghe would respond to such a revelation? Hadn't Binghe punished him for that?

Had Shen Yuan died believing Binghe scorned him? Hated him for his blood? When he needed Shen Yuan just to keep breathing? No. No-

His fellow peak lords, when they find him, have to pry the shards of Xui Ya from his hands lest he cut his own fingers off with how tightly he holds them

this crazy ass post you're ruining my life. but like also. yes. all of this. yesss.s.s......

i'm ngl i think when i eventually do write this full fic out i'm going to have to rewrite the abyss scene sooo many times. i'm already anticipating it. because there are just so many things going on at once that it'd be a disservice to go with the first draft and leave it. and picking who's pov to go with will be! so hard!

bcz wow you really laid out binghe's thought process so well. sort of disbelieving yet numb and conflicted and!!! the idea that he wouldn't know whether or not to regret shen yuan falling into the abyss until he was already on the way down is! so good! love that bad!

thank you kindly for putting this in my inbox i will be chewing over it for many days while i plot this fic :^)

and that detail about xiu ya ohhhh don't even joke lad. i wonder if there'd be a canonical way to explain luo binghe maybe like. stopping the healing process from reaching his hands so he could look at the scars and be reminded of his failure.

masterpost

[tasty-littl-snack]

That clip really is so interesting especially in like an understanding Ryan kind of way. Obviously we can't take it *too* seriously because they're drunk and know they're on camera but I do think it does speak to the deep well of insecurity Ryan has. It's lowkey pretty sad ngl. Like Ryan this man would follow you to the ends of the earth. Do you really think he doesn't love you? That he doesn't care about you as much as you care about him? That if he moved away for whatever reason he wouldn't still wanna be friends with you or care about your wellbeing? Do you really think Shane only cares about you/is friends with you because of proximity and not because he just really likes you? I mean I'm definitely projecting a bit here as an also insane insecure person but man I wish he fully understood that he's a great guy whom Shane loves so much and is worthy of that love :(

(This ask refers to this video of course I just had it in my drafts for weeks, sorry for the late answer).

Yeah I was about to make a post about exactly that.

There's also more context to this story (7.50 minutes in this video) and I reccomend watching it because the clip this is taken from is them reacting to a story of two best friends biking every weekend and then one of them moves away with his family. When the one who moved away dies, his family gets a phonecall from his old friend asking why they didn't say anything about visiting, and the plot twist is that the man died hours earlier and the family didn't tell anyone yet so probably his ghost went to say goodbye to his best friend.

That's why Ryan is like "How does his best friend not know that the other passed away, if you moved I'd know about it". (They don't know that the family hasn't told anyone). But what I find so interesting is that when Ryan says "If you moved states and passed away" Shane interrupts him with "Shut the fuck up" as if that would be an impossible scenario. Which is very sweet. I also think that this speaks to the "Ryan loves Shane and Shane loves him equally so if this situation happened to them they'd know."

It comes later in the story but I also think that Ryan has this whole "Ghoul boys have a bond that lasts forever and is unbreakable" romantic notion of his friendships, and especially his friendship with Shane. So thinking that he'd magically know if for some reason they'd die separately (he also joked about Shane being on his deathbed once to tell a final joke or something), because they are that close. And know each other the best in the world, so of course Ryan would know.

I also think that Ryan maybe thinks that he cares a bit more about Shane than Shane cares about him, from the whole "my friendships are romantic in a sense", and maybe he thinks that Shane doesn't care and wouldn't know. I think it's because he's very oblivious to how much Shane loves him and proves with his actions that he cares about Ryan. They are subtile and it's all behind the masks they create (Shane being a skeptic who doesn't care most of the time), so I think maybe at times some of that anxiety might get to Ryan and that's why he maybe said that.

What I also find interesting is that at the end of the story, they joke about the protag of the story not actually dying but "leaving his family and marrying his best friend" which.... is of course a joke but a very interesting hypothetical too. (Of course Shane says this, and it is a joke but who knows what he was thinking here. Maybe that in that unlikely scenario of him leaving he'd still find a way to be with Ryan but that's just my interpretation.)

And you know what? In the weeks from when this ask sat in my inbox and them being insane about each other I'm sure that Ryan would know about it. Hell why not, he knows everything about Shane, might as well have a mental red string of fate connection that tells him if the other is okay.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter One

Fool's Fare: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol, Jake Seresin, suggestive language, fear of abandonment. I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.87k

A/N: Wasn't sure I was going to post again tonight, but here we are! Not sure I'm going to post a fic update tomorrow, but I might work on some drabbles and post some of the asks sitting in my inbox. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

The cool, night breeze twisted its way through the door of the crowded pub as a group of patrons exited, offering the briefest relief to your clammy skin as you busied yourself behind the bar. Patrons crowded around the various tables, some laughing in the open while others crowded in the dark shadows of the corners. Your regulars were easy to spot, most of them fishermen. Their carefree attitudes set them apart from the strangers passing through who kept themselves closed off and guarded in an unfamiliar places.

“Y/n!” Called Tom, one of your regulars. He had been a good friend to your father, having known him from his early fishing days. Tom had done well for himself, having been able to put enough money away to buy his own ship - the Iceman. “How’s about another ale!”

“Coming, Captain!” you hollered over at him jovially, already moving to grab a fresh glass. You had always liked the old captain, and had considered him to be a part of your family growing up. When your parents had died, he had seen to it personally that you were taken care of and that Bradley was able to secure steady work on the various shipping vessels that docked on your shores. “Where’s Rooster?”

“Should be coming along soon, I suspect,” Tom smiled warmly. Bradley had been picking up different odd jobs as of late, his latest one being aboard the Iceman loading and unloading cargo. He had been dodging your questions about it as of late, and you had started to wonder if he was up to something.

“He’s going to work himself into an early grave,” you grumbled, sliding the glass of ale down to the captain who caught it easily. “He won’t even tell me what he’s doing all of these jobs for.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” mused Tom, lifting the glass up to his lips to take a swig. “He probably doesn’t want you to worry.”

“He’s worrying me by not saying anything,” you countered, leaning against the bar. At that moment, the pub door swung open, and an exhausted looking Bradley stumbled through. You rounded the bar to help him sit down as he staggered onto a stool. “Bradley, for heaven’s sake!”

“Think you can get me an ale, Guppy?” he asked, rubbing at the bags under his eyes. The tips of his ears and nose were seared pink from hours spent in the intense sun, and you frowned at him.

“What you need is sleep,” you countered, but Bradley shook his head, fixing you with tired, pleading eyes.

“Please?” he asked again, softer this time. You sighed, moving back behind the bar and pouring him a draft before sliding it over to him. He grabbed it, raising it up in a silent cheers before tossing his head back with a long swig.

“Easy, lad,” Tom frowned, watching the young man as he took another long pull from his glass. Bradley set his drink down, absentmindedly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Another,” he told you, but you shook your head.

“No, absolutely not,” you scowled as the furrow between his eyes deepened. “You need to go home and rest, Bradley.”

“She’s right, lad,” Tom started, twisting in his seat to face the younger man. “You’ll work yourself into an early grave if you’re not careful.”

“I’m fine,” Bradley muttered, resting his head against the palm of his hand. Tom gave him a wry smile before clapping his hand on the other man’s shoulder. He shot you a wink before getting up to join his crew that was gathered on the opposite side of the room. You watched him go before turning back to look at Bradley with a frown.

“C’mon, Roos,” you prodded, leaning your head down so you could meet his gaze that was fixed on the bartop. “Tell me what you’re up to.”

“Nothin’” he grumbled unconvincingly. You rolled your eyes with a purse of your lips.

“I’m having a hard time believing you,” you sniped, snatching the glass away from him. Without another word to him, you poured another ale and offered it to him. He took it, offering a small smile. He met your even gaze just long enough for you to see the flash of guilt that flitted in his eyes. “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked, taking a small sip from his glass.

“Why do you look guilty?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bradley Bradshaw,” you hissed, eyes blazing, “I have known you for twenty years now. Either you tell me what you’re up to right now, or I will personally see to it that you won’t be able to get another job for a month.”

“Alright,” he winced, setting the glass down and finally meeting your stare. “You have to promise me you won’t yell.”

You scoffed. “Are you twelve?”

“Guppy, promise me,” he insisted, hazel eyes pleading with you. You studied him another moment before sighing.

“Alright, fine.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re what?” you shrieked, causing some of the patrons to turn to the two of you as Bradley hissed at you to be quiet.

“You promised you wouldn’t be mad.”

“That was before you told me you were leaving,” you snapped. “Where are you even going to go?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted, leaning back. “Still need to find a crew that will take me on long-term.”

You stayed silent, watching him with furious eyes. After a couple of beats, you turned to walk back around the bar. “Caroline, I’m leaving.”

She waved after you, moving to tend to some patrons on the opposite end of the bar. Bradley watched you walk away with wide eyes before getting up to stumble after you. You flung the door of the pub open before setting off with a brisk pace down the road.

“Guppy!”

You ignored the man behind you, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

“Guppy?”

The tears began to fall, the trails they left behind on your cheeks turning to ice in the cool, night air. You turned to walk down to the beach past the docks. How could he drop that bomb shell on you? How could he keep that hidden from you in the first place? Your anger only served to cover up the true emotion you tried your hardest to ignore. Betrayal.

“Y/n, please,” Bradley begged, his long legs having helped him catch up to you by now. You stopped in your tracks, feet sliding into the sand beneath you as you whirled around. You shoved Bradley with all of your strength, shock at the unexpected movement being the only reason stumbled back at all.

“How could you?” you cried, tears falling quicker and your breath coming out shallower as you fought to keep your composure. “How could you just plan to leave me?”

“It’s not like that,” he started, but you shook your head.

“Don’t lie to me, Bradley,” you seethed, hands now clenched at your sides. “Don’t. I deserve the truth. Were you even going to say goodbye to me, or were you just going to vanish one day?”

“Of course not,” he murmured, staring at you with eyes once again pleading with you. “I would never do that to you. You know that.”

“I thought I knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t leave,” you shot back, causing Bradley to wince. “Guess I don’t know as much as I thought I did.”

“Y/n,” he sighed, running a hand over his face and looking out at the ocean. He seemed to be mulling over his words. “It wouldn’t be forever.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” you laughed humorlessly.

“It wouldn’t be forever,” he continued, giving you a pointed look. “It would only be until I earned enough to buy my own ship.”

“You can do that here,” you argued, but Bradley shook his head with a small, empty laugh.

“I can’t,” he said. “I’ve barely earned enough these past weeks to live off of for a month out at sea. I’d be buried in the ground before I earned enough to buy a ship, and you know that.”

You couldn’t argue. You knew he was right, and you knew that this was not the life he had dreamed of. He had dreamed of going off with your father on one of his many voyages before the sea had claimed him. It had been years, but the pain of his and your mother’s passing still felt fresh in your heart.

You saw how Bradley looked longingly out at the sea when he thought you weren’t looking, or how he always looked happiest standing on the deck of a boat. No, Bradley was meant for a life at sea, and you knew it. You just never thought he would leave you behind.

“It won’t be forever,” he says again, moving to put his hands on your shoulders, bending down so he was eye level with you. “And when I earn enough money to buy my own ship, I’ll come back for you.”

“That could be years,” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper. Bradley sucks in a breath before slowly nodding.

“You’re right,” he conceded, wiping the tears from your cheek.

“What if you forget about me?”

Bradley huffed out a laugh before drawing you into his arms. He hugged you tightly, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “How could I forget my baby sister? Besides, I think you’d swim across the ocean to find me if I ever forgot about you.”

You huffed a laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re probably right.”

“‘Course I am,” he chuckled, pulling away from you. “Now, c’mon. It’s freezin’ out here, and I’m exhausted.”

You allowed him to lead you up the hill to your shared home. He left a chaste kiss to the top of your head before wishing you goodnight. As you lay in bed that night, you obsessed over the one question you had refused to allow yourself to ask him down at the beach. What if the sea claimed him too?

The following night, you found yourself back behind the bar of the pub. You had heard snippets of chatter amongst the locals about an unknown ship that had docked on your shores.

“I don’t like the look of’em,” Tom had told you and Bradley as he sat at the bar. A lull in the crowd had granted you a moment to stop and talk with the two of them.

“Why’s that?” you asked. He frowned.

“When you get to be my age,” he grumbled, “you can start to pick out the rotten sorts from just a glance.”

Before you could respond, the pub door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud. All three of you turned to see a large group step through the doorway and into the warm glow of the lantern filled room. A blond man stood at the front of the group, lips curled into a confident smirk. You noted the handsome features of him and his companions, and you knew the other women in the room had as well due to the scattered giggles from around the room.

“That’s them,” Tom mumbled, taking another sip of his ale.

The blond scanned his eyes across the room before catching sight of you at the bar. A twinkle of intrigue shone in his eyes as he began to saunter over to you, his crew dispersing to find a table to sit at. You shot a weary glance at Tom before moving to meet the tall stranger on the opposite side of where Bradley sat.

“Evenin’” you greeted with a polite smile. “What can I get you?”

The man looked you over with lick of his lips. “An ale, and your company if you’re offerin’ that too.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm. It wasn’t the first time a patron had made a pass at you, but it was the first time a patron was that devilishly handsome. “The ale, I can get you, but I’m not in the habit of entertaining sailors.”

“Shame,” the stranger grins, watching as you pour his drink. You hand it to him, and you feel a shiver run up your spine as his fingers graze yours. “Would have been nice to have someone as pretty as you in my bed tonight.”

You saw Bradley’s jaw tick from the corner of your eye, and you shot him a warning glance. This part of your job wasn’t new, and you had long since learned how to handle yourself in these situations.

“I believe there are more than a couple of girls over there who would be willing to warm your bed tonight, Mr…?”

“Seresin,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Jake Seresin. And I’m not interested in having anyone but you, pretty girl.”

“Well, then it looks like your bed will go cold tonight after all,” you said to him. Bradley snorted, trying to cover it with a cough, but Jake ignored him.

“Seresin,” Tom grunted, causing all three of you to look at him. He shook his head, and turned to glare at Jake. “I’ve heard of you. You’re a pirate.”

The conversation died in the pub as everyone turned to look at your little group by the bar. Jake’s easy grin never faltered as he stared back at Tom.

“Pirate is such a nasty word,” he drawled, taking a sip of his ale. “I prefer the term…liberator.”

“Whatever you call it, you have no business here,” Tom snapped.

“I beg to differ, my friend,” Jake countered, moving to stand. Turning to the rest of the room, he stated, “I’m looking for men to join my crew. You keep what you can carry with you. If you’re interested, come see me.”

And with one final glance at you, he sauntered off towards the back of the room where his crew had taken up purchase.

“Pirates?” you asked, looking at Tom hesitantly. He shook his head and got up to go join his own crew in the corner. You peered at Bradley from the corner of your eye. He studied the rim of his glass as he stroked it thoughtfully.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked him. He jumped as your words pulled him from his train of thought.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, refusing to meet your gaze. You studied him him for a moment until you saw the quick glance he threw towards the back of the room.

“No,” you snapped, causing him to finally meet your gaze. “Absolutely not.”

“What?” he scowled, but you fixed him with a glare and a finger pointed into his chest.

“Don’t even think about it,” you hissed in warning. Bradley glared right back at you before hopping off his stool and strutting towards the crew at the back. You scrambled around the bar after him. You closed the distance just as he stopped in front of Jake.

“I want to join your crew,” he stated. Jake looked at him with an amused look, eyes flickering to you as you pulled on Bradley’s arm so that he faced you.

“Bradley, don’t,” you begged.

“Y/n, enough,” he snapped down at you, taking you aback. His eyes softened as you looked up at his broad frame with hurt bewilderment. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his sandy brown locks. He looked back at you before continuing. “Don’t you see, Guppy? This is my chance. If I don’t go now, who knows when I’ll get another opportunity to leave and make my fortune.”

“Roo, you’re my brother. I can’t let you do this,” you pleaded, taking his hand in yours. You willed him to listen to you, but it was no use.

“I’ve made my decision, Guppy,” he said. You couldn’t stop the flash of hurt you knew passed over your face as Bradley turned back to the captain. You looked around at the other patrons desperately before settling your eyes on Tom. He was already looking at you with a solemn expression, shaking his head.

“Sign here,” Jake instructed, pointing to the piece of parchment he had rolled out onto the table. Bradley obeyed, scratching his name in quick strokes to the bottom. You felt the tears start to run down your face before you could stop them. You couldn’t stop anything, it seemed. Bradley straightened and turned to look at you. The two of you stared at one another for several moments before you turned on your heel and stormed away from him.

That night, as you lay in bed, you dreamed of the sea. You dreamed of blue and green swirling around you as you struggled to breath. You dreamed of splintering wood and echoed shrieks that were drowned out by thundering waves. You dreamed of strange creatures that lurked the deep as they waited for their next meal. You dreamed of golden hair and cocky smirks as they taunted you beneath the waves. You dreamt of a cold, calloused hand that pulled you under until the surface was nothing but a distant memory.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Hi there! So here's my idea. The reader (medic officer) and leon just come out as a new couple and they're happy until one day they get draft for a mission and there meet the one and only Ada Wong that they have to cooperate for the mission. Leon is paying way more attention and all over Ada that he almost disregard the reader. She tries to be understanding and softly communicate with Leon but it turns into an argument. The reader gets upset and misunderstand Leon that he is very not much over with his "the one that got away". Leon regrets the things he said and tries to talk to her but she proceeds to avoid Leon at all costs. Que the enemies attack their base and the reader sees that the enemy is aiming to shoot Ada and at the last minute takes the critical hit for her while thinking that Leon would be heartbroken if Ada dies. Reader flatline a couple of times. I would like to know how Leon would react to this. Let's end it with a happy note ^^

Hello!

First of all, I love your brain????

Have you ever considered becoming a writer yourself bc you definitely have the mind for it! 😚

Now, would you be willing to come to a compromise considering your idea?

Because I think I'm physically unable to write reader sacrificing herself for Ada. Like my hands refuse to type out anything.

I can't stand her 😭

And like we deserve better!!!

I'm also a firm believer that Leon hates her guts bc common sense 😋

I'd 100% be down to write angst for Leon, maybe reader gets hurt trying to save him from enemies and it's like very heartbreaking and stuff.

BUT WE WILL NOT DIE FOR MANIPULATIVE BITCHES WHO TAKE ADVANTANGE OF SOMEONES KINDNESS. NOT IN MY HOUSE.

I'm sorry to disappoint but I would happily write you different Leon angst! Just pop back in my inbox :)

#Adasucks

[vintersang]

Hello, everyone.

I'm alive!

I wanted to make this little post to announce a small hiatus. My creativity energy has taken bit of a dive, so I have not been extremely active on here... As you can most likely tell. My activity has dropped, but I am planning to quietly focus on drafts whenever my inspiration hits me. I have noticed my struggle to write has spread over to other hobbies, such as my joy to create edits... Which is, quite frankly, one of the more unfair things to happen. With this in mind, I have decided to take a short break in order to try to nurse my creativity back to me.

Anything that I finish in my drafts (including my inbox) will be queued up once I actually complete something. Naturally, I want to thank everyone that is still waiting for me. I hate making people wait on me, so I feel a bit extra bad. I wanted to start this year off more strongly, especially since I really want to be on Elsa, but my energy has been quite low lately. For the time being, I will be focusing on trying to re-spark myself. I miss being active on my dash, but I am struggling.

Looking at my drafts, both threads and incomplete asks, makes me feel really disappointed. I know writing is a hobby, but seeing all of it does stress me out a bit. I wish I was a faster writer, but I'm not. I love the rush of excitement whenever I finish something on this blog since I have come to enjoy learning more about my Elsa. But lately? The drafts, I think, are a bit stressful for me to look at whenever I come back onto this blog. Don't get me wrong, I love the interactions so much. The issue is the fact that my writing pace is so slow, especially when muse is being fickle. I enjoy my time on here when I'm active, but I dislike my writing pace. The worst part of my overall writing pace and my unpredictable muse, I think, must be the realization that I make people wait.

Many of my mutuals, especially the mutuals from my Homura blog, are very patient with me. Logging on here to see that I still have my mutuals is, well, really comforting to see. I know all of my mutual friends will be patient with me when they do come across this post on their dash. I adore that for them, truly.

My biggest enemy when it comes to making people wait even longer is, well, myself. No one else. Intrusive thoughts can be a big pain, that's for sure. Right now, I am here to update everyone on what's going on. I don't know how long the hiatus will last, but I will still work on my drafts. My biggest first concern will be finishing my dust-covered threads, then slowly make my way through my inbox. Any unanswered DMs will be answered, though I do apologize for any delays in advance. To those who have reached out to me on my Discord to merely chat, thank you for having me in your thoughts. My social battery can easily get overwhelmed, so it's easy for me to get lost in my own little world...or forget to respond back, which is a bit awkward.

To all of my new followers, welcome to my blog. I know things are quiet right now, but I am hoping to change that in the near future.

For anyone who is reading this, here is an adorable-looking gift!

My ancient phone died at some point this month, so I had the chance to upgrade my phone from an iPhone 6s to an iPhone 13. It was stressful when it happened, but I am happy to have a better phone because I get to take better pictures of my dearest cat. Tabitha is my precious cat. She is currently purring in my lap as I type this post out. Isn't she adorable? My motivation to write (as well as open up Photoshop to work on late gifts) have been really low lately, but... Tabitha is still happily purring in my lap.

If you made it to the very end, I have a small request:

What is one of your favorite books?

(If you answer, please explain why! Talking about books always makes me excited, no matter what kind of slump I'm in!)

It can be a series or a novel, but I would really like to know. Why? Because I'm planning to slowly focus on reading my own books. You see, I have a system: If I cannot write, then I bounce over to my next hobby to try to do something. My motivation to create edits often helps me get back in the mood when it comes to writing for Homura, but... Elsa is more trickier, apparently. Alas, my issue right now is simply my lack of motivation to write anything.

So, what do I do when I can't create?

I focus on reading because I'm always reading something. With this little knowledge, please send me some books. I prefer fictional books. Fantasy is my main genre of choice. I also love historical fiction. You get bonus points if it's some kind of fantasy and historical fiction. I adore faeries (including mermaids) in my books, but there doesn't have to be faeries in the books.

Overall, I want to hear about your books as well. I'm going to try to focus on reading while I'm away because reading always helps me to write something, even if it doesn't go anywhere. Reading is always a big comfort me since I can always rely on it, hehe.

Thank you for reading this far!

[keesdarlin]

☆// the night market

info! cayde-6 / fluff, ambiguous relationship + gender neutral reader

cw! no CWs

notes! first draft on this account - kinda nerve-wracking! also my first time ever writing for cayde -- just a lot of firsts going on. i hope that this is a good way to get this account started. feel free to drop any requests into my inbox! (listen i'm also writing this like cayde never died just for my own peace of mind. i just can't really do that right now just pretend along with me. lil vaguely christmas-themed piece)

it's chilly. the cold bites right through the thinnest layers of your clothes - the ends of your sleeves that cover your knuckles. no armor tonight. it's nice, if you're being honest.

the atmosphere is bright, more festive than you're used to. old string lights hang overhead, swaying as people move about the tents, looking through wares for sale. people chatter away at stalls, haggling without too much seriousness. music plays from somewhere -- wherever it's coming from, you can't see it, but it sounds nice and calm and live. you can't remember the song exactly, but it's familiar. it puts you at ease in the crowd. you just stand in the middle of the hustle and bustle, watching. it's nice to disappear into the crowd every once in a while, to be an observer rather than a protector for just a moment. a reminder of what you're fighting for.

you hum to yourself, your ghost hovering over your shoulder as you watch the motion of the crowd. then you yelp, feeling a purposeful yet awkward nudge against your shoulder. you turn to confront whoever it is with one hand over your chest, the other flying to the carefully concealed holster at your hip, to be met with none other than cayde-6. you force your eyes shut for a second and focus on the exhale that follows, hand falling away from your holster. "you scared the light out of us, cayde!" your ghost cries, shell spinning anxiously.

when you open your eyes, your expression is fairly deadpan, unamused at the slight smile he cracks. "since when are you so jumpy?" he teases, holding a mug in each hand. "i got us some, uh, hot chocolates. isn't that what you do at these things?"

he hands you one awkwardly, twisting his wrist so that you would be able to grab it from the handle. the mugs are metal, well-worn and dented, but just the right temperature to warm your reddening fingertips. "since i'm not wearing any gear," you mutter, holding your mug close to your chest. "and you might wanna be a little more careful with scaring me. i could've shot you." you really did scare us, you know.

cayde scoffs, stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. "seriously? you're packing heat at this little christmas fair?"

silently, you lean into him with your hip leading, just enough for him to feel the pressure of your holster against his leg.

his eyebrows raise in realization. "oh. i stand corrected."

you shake your head, hiding a grin by sipping at your drink. you nod in approval, humming your thanks.

then it's quiet for a beat. your ghost dissipates back to wherever they go when they're not hovering over your shoulder (you try not to think about it too much; the rationalizations can get kind of freaky), and you and cayde are left people watching in the center of the hustle and bustle.

"what are you doing here anyways?" you ask over the edge of your cup, opting to watch a group of friends flit from stall to stall instead of looking over at him. "i thought you weren't coming."

"well, i wouldn't be a very good, uhm..." it's a strong start, but when he turns to look at you as he speaks it's like the wheels in his head start to struggle a little bit. he clears his throat, trying to get himself back on track. "i wouldn't be a very good friend if i let you come by yourself, would i?"

you laugh softly, and the sound is bright, cutting through the buzzing noise of the crowd. "so he does have honor," you tease, finally smiling at him. for a second it doesn't feel quite so cold outside. then your gaze aims straight again and the rest of the atmosphere comes back into focus. "no, you wouldn't be. i would have taken it very personally."

"that so?" cayde looks down at you, amused. his voice rumbles deep and hearty in his chest, like the crackling of a campfire. it feels safe, has you wondering why you thought to bring your sidearm in the first place. but then you remember that he's looking at you, waiting for your response.

"oh, absolutely," you chuckle, and it comes out just a touch too fast, but if he notices he doesn't say anything. just laughs along with you.

the air settles again, both of you sighing into your mugs. "would you like to walk a little bit?" he asks, pulling his free hand out of his pocket and gesturing down the aisle.

you smile, fully this time with teeth and all, and take a step forward. "sure, i'd love to."

so you go, weaving through people and looking through trinkets and laughing at little lighthearted incidents occurring on the periphery of the market, humming along to the music, one of you always close behind the other. and the part of you that thought this would probably be awkward falls silent.

"you know what would go great with this hot chocolate?" you ask over your shoulder, and the brush of his cape against yours tells you that he's coming around the corner of the tent after you.

"what would?"

"some cookies," you say, smiling even though he can't see you. "on me, of course, since you bought the hot chocolate." you turn back into the aisle, deciding that the tent's wares no longer interest you.

cayde scoffs, sounding almost shocked. "listen, kid, you don't have to-"

you glare playfully over your shoulder, following your nose down the aisle to a vendor selling sweet treats. "if it makes you feel better, we can say that i'm only getting you one so that i don't feel bad about getting two for myself. deal?"

and cayde laughs again, breath coming out in wispy puffs. "okay, sure. deal."

the line goes fairly quickly and in no time you hold three chocolate chip cookies, carefully handing one off to the exo man. "thanks," he says awkwardly.

you shake your head. "no problem."

both of you munch on your cookies for a moment before you abruptly look up at him again. "we've never hung out outside of work before," you say as though you're just realizing it.

cayde straightens up at the though. "oh... i guess we haven't really, huh?"

you shake your head.

"guess that makes sense seeing as we're both... always working..." he says shoulders slumping. gosh, how boring.

"do you want to do something?" you ask. "like do something, not just hang out at the market?"

"i, uhm. sure. yeah," he stammers.

you nod to yourself, starting off into the crowd. he scrambles to follow after you.

soon enough he finds the both of you in a bustling field a tiny bit away from the market. it's much more calm out here than in the market even in spite of the number of people around.

"you do this often?" he asks uncertainly, watching over your shoulder as you sit hunched over on the ground, decorating a paper lamp.

"do what often?" you reply, not looking up from whatever it is that you're drawing.

cayde gestures vaguely, floundering for a moment. "this whole night market thing."

"oh." you look up from what you're drawing for a just a moment, staring at the sky. "not really. mostly just for the dawning."

cayde smiles. "so are you a dawning fanatic? do you do the outfits and the presents and the themed parties and all that?"

you wrinkle your nose, laughing lightly. "no, not really. i just like the market. don't have much to decorate with at home."

he nods. "fair enough."

then you turn to him, holding out your pencil. "you draw something on there too."

"oh, i'm not much of an artist."

you roll your eyes. "who cares? just put something on there, anything. it'll make things more fun."

cayde hums a disagreement but starts drawing anyways. once he's done he hands the pencil back to you. you hold the paper lantern up to the light, playfully analyzing it. "it's beautiful," you coo teasingly. he only bumps you with his shoulder in response.

"okay, so now what?" he asks, hands clasped together.

"now," you start, fluffing the lantern open, "we send it off."

cayde nods his head. "and how do we do that?"

you smile and pull a tea candle and a lighter out of your pocket. "with these. see you light it and you put it in the little holder in there, and then it floats. you wanna see?"

cayde smiles down at you and something about how bright the expression is makes you forget that you're out in a field, away from all of the light and holiday chaos of the night market. "sure," he says like it's simple. and you guess it is as you flight your lighter and light the little candle.

he watches as you place the candle in it's little structure. then he helps you lift it above your head, both of you giving it the tiniest boost as it goes on its journey in the sky. you sit in silence together as you watch it float off into space, into the smattering of stars across the sky.

"thanks for coming." you let yourself lean into the warmth of his side. he doesn't protest. it's comfortable there, in this moment, in the air trapped between the both of you. "i normally do this by myself, but it was nice to have company this year."

finally, he peels his eyes off of your little lantern in the sky to look down at you. "i had a great time. 'd love to do it again."

your expression melts into a cozy smile as your brain processes the words. i'd love to do it again sometime. you grin up at him. "deal."

[spxnglr]

Just a quick FYI that I'm doing my best to get to things! My inbox is almost at three figures (which I really do appreciate, thank u sm!) and I'm on a little over 40 drafts, with 20 - 30 starters I need to work on. I wish I had more time to be here, but my full-time job is high demand (not to mention my fluctuating health), but pls be assured that I'm posting as much as I can and I'll get round to your reply/starter soon! I'm also aware I need to reach out to folks in the DMs here and on Dis. Apologies for the delay! You'll be hearing from me in due course.

[klausysworld]

hiii hi 🥺 I know ur inbox is super full but I just wanted to see if my request went through about the angst req of Klaus and witch reader getting married and she dies because her coven believes she betrayed them. I kinda forget what I wrote now aha but it’s along those lines 😅 if you’re down to write that I would love to read it! If you’re it’s not your cupa tea that’s okay too aha 😄

Hope you have a wonderful week ahead lovely 🥰

I’m assuming it’s this one? ☺️

I’ve definitely got it and will most likely write it, I just can’t say when it’ll be ready as I never seem to be able to just focus on one at a time 😅

I’m wanting to try write a smutty one some time this week or adding to one in my drafts but I can start this one too if I’m not too busy!

I hope you also have a great week and keep reading 🩷

[hiemaldesirae]

Okay so my idea is Vox was an omega in life and hid it because he wanted to be a producer and at the time omegas were rarely allowed such autonomy and freedom. So when he dies, he just naturally falls back into his pattern of hiding his nature, especially because he knows he wants to be an overlord and another enterprising demon could take his power if he mated with the wrong person.

At first, Vox hated being an omega, but as the years went on, he realized what he actually hated was the constrictions Earth's society had put on him and he began to feel more comfortable and assured in his designation.

When Vox feels comfortable enough to start exploring his sexuality and possibly having partners for his heats, he drafts an NDA that all his potential partners have to sign so his secret can never get out. It works great and Vox learns what he likes and doesn't like and his secret is secure.

When Valentino approaches him for a partnership, Vox is already established as a small time overlord. Valentino flirts relentlessly but Vox remains completely professional until one day Val comes into work to find Vox leaning on his desk with paperwork of some kind. Vox tells Val he just needs his signature real quick and so Val signs it without reading. As he finishes, the contract glows and disappears and Vox grins before pouncing on Valentino and kissing him ferociously.

They fuck like crazy for the next week while Vox rides out his heat. Val was shocked to discover his business partner was an omega and a wicked lay but he was most shocked when he tried to call Vox his little omega and found himself saying "my little beta" instead.

Vox smugly informs him that he'd signed an NDA and that he was bound by it for the rest of eternity, but that if he played nice, maybe Vox would let him spend his next heat with him again. So every year, about a month before Vox's heat, Val rolls out the red carpet just so he can have the pleasure of being Vox's heat partner.

Vox will never tell Val, but after their first time together, he'd decided he didn't want anyone else. Nevertheless, it's good to keep Val on his toes-and he likes being showered in gifts.

OUGHHH wait oh my god this is honestly pretty fucking genius . i love this idea soo much and its actually so fun i love twists on a/b/o even though i myself typically pivot to more rigid dynamics. the idea that vox likes to NDA people he sleeps with is SOOO fucking funny and im now imagining a situation where valvox eventually start wanting more than their current situationship and vox in a show of trust nullifies the contract and NDA for val only, even though val still doesnt breathe a word of voxs secondary dynamic unless vox says its all good because hes just That Whipped 😭😭

theres also a crazy amount of potential angst here that i feel i should point out with the idea that perhaps voxs aversion from revealing his actual dynamic stemmed from past unfortunate memories in life + even what led to radiostatic breakup if we're following canon timeline here . like the idea that vox first revealed his dynamic to alastor and then al in his typical "I Have Never Interacted With Another Human Being Before" manner proceeded to use it against him and then broke voxs trust forever (<- you can tell i never got over the twist in freak-a-zoid) and now vox is learning to get over that wirh val... Aough. i dont know i think staticmoth can be sooooo cute sometimes

this prompt was wonderful nonny thank you for sending it in (and i promise ill find some time to start dusting off the other asks in my inbox eventually. just... maybe not now because im still irrationally scared of them)

[circular-bircular]

Hi, sorry this is a big ask but what are your thoughts on this article?

https://powertotheplurals.com/why-the-theory-of-structural-dissociation-is-ableist/

We don't know enough to go through and say exactly that it's wrong but something feels wrong? Like that's not our experience being treated by someone who believes in the theory of structural dissociation.

Also this article was introduced to me as the argument against sysmeds but the theory of structural dissociation has grown since its creation and I can name two people who came up with theories that are the basis of modern psychiatry who should never practice.

Again though we don't really know enough to say any of that for certain and I hope we don't look silly.

Alright, let's start clearing out my drafts and inbox with this lovely ask!

I have been sitting on this ask for eons. I got it, wanted to work on it but died during the school year by way of teaching being hell, and then promptly forgot it existed. However, a thousand and one people have broken this article down for the sheer absurdity of how bad it is. Like, it's really bad.

This article is 1000% just fearmongering bullshit to steer people away from a very, very valuable theory. Anon, you do not need to feel the need to sway your opinions on the ToSD -- first and foremost, above all else, you determine what helps you the most and what theories benefit your system. Not anyone else's sayings.

But let's dig into it, shall we?

We start off with a huge image of a video about Otto Van Der Hart, author of The Haunted Self and a very instrumental psychologist in the understanding of DID. This is immediately followed by the following statement:

The above video was recently released after one of the authors of Structural Dissociation lost his license for life and can never practice again.

[VERY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER]

He's not one of the authors of Structural Dissociation. He's one of the authors of The Haunted Self. He did not invent the theory; the Theory of Structural Dissociation was not the invention of The Haunted Self. The ToSD was the invention of many, many, many people working together to understand pieces of dissociation, and Van Der Hart, alongside Kathy Steele and Ellert R Nijenhuis, created The Haunted Self to publish a focused overview of everything related to it. To call him "one of the authors of the theory" is really discounting the fact that this theory is far more wide-reaching than just The Haunted Self.

But that's me being a little nitpicky.

Me being VERY nitpicky is their linked article immediately after this statement with the falsehood about how Final Fusion only works 12.8% of the time. This has been thoroughly debunked. Here's an example of a debunk! I'm incredibly frustrated to not even be able to get to the bulk of the article, simply because they're so insistent on plugging their own misinformation.

Then a link about Otto Van Der Hart losing his license... Then another link about it... Why is this necessary for "The ToSD is ableist"? Seems like you meant "Otto Van Der Hart is ableist" and your editors just got confused by the 4 letter word. Let's see, one last PTTP link... Okay, article time!

Anyone who has watched a DID youtube video, or read a few posts in a support group, has seen it pass by: The theory of Structural dissociation, written by Ellert Neijenhuis, Onno van der Hart, Suzette Boon and Kathy Steele. 

Very confused why you keep saying the ToSD was written by these people, but you continue on to acknowledge that the ToSD was not written solely by these individuals. This article feels disjointed as fuck and there's only actually been like... two paragraphs! How did you manage that?

It’s good to know that in 1987, the writers of this theory already referred to us as parts, not personalities or alters, as the common terms were back then. Now, you might think this was progressive, ahead of its time — but was it really? 

Yes. It was. As someone who is relieved to be seen as a part of a whole, rather than a distinct personality who is wildly out of control, I'm thrilled to see parts language in my history.

It was actually, psychologist and psychiatrist Charles Samual Myers, who in 1916 wrote about Apparently Normal Part (ANP) and Emotional Part (EP) after acute trauma in WW1. So it is fair to say that the theory of Structural dissociation borrowed these terms, not introduced them, as is readable in the haunted self. (page 4)

Yep. So why were you so insistent for so long that the authors of the Haunted Self "created" the theory when... you're literally acknowledging some of the history of the theory here?

Let's see... you then acknowledge another author who should also be credited as helping to create the ToSD, once again contradicting the start of your article...

It is also good to realize that the theory of Structural dissociation is neither about DID, nor is it about alters, as many of us Plurals know them. They speak of ‘dissociative parts of the personality’, caused by trauma. Nota bene, not early childhood trauma, trauma in general. As this theory of structural dissociation also explains single trauma, repeated trauma in adulthood and (early) childhood trauma. It is used to describe changes that are diagnosed as (c)PTSD, trauma related borderline personality disorder, DID and more.

Yeah, this part is true! The ToSD is not only about DID, or childhood trauma, or even repeated trauma. It's... about structural dissociation. It's in the name. Not sure why so many people are so confused about that.

As you can see in this image, all types of Structural dissociation have EP and ANP elements which Myers talked about.  In other words, the theory puts forward that all traumatized people have ‘dissociative parts of the personality’ as this is just the collective name for the EP and ANP. Thus, plurality does not just happen in DID, as many people with DID like to claim.

The theory of structural dissociation is not about plurality. You said it yourself that it is neither about DID nor about alters. It is about trauma causing dissociative parts of identity. All traumatized people have dissociative parts of identity, but that does not mean that all traumatized people are plural. Because that's what you're poking at by listing that as plurality.

These dissociative parts of identity are not necessarily fully formed parts. From every single person I've met with PTSD, their ANP/EP structure is nothing like mine -- not just in the fact that I've got more of that sort of thing, but in the fact that their ANP and EP don't have goddamn names. Their parts of self are not full identities that take over the body; they're states of mind.

Now, does that preclude someone from calling that plurality? No. People can call anything plural, if they feel that label fits. But to suggest, looking at these charts, that it is universally plurality -- that the existence of ANP/EPs is plural inherently -- is jumping the shark to the largest degree.

(Lastly, as a syscourse side note -- please stop conflating DID with Anti-Endo in your posts. "Many people with DID like to claim" just say anti-endos. Just say sysmeds, for fucks sake, I would prefer that to you making it about DID)

From which we can conclude that OSDD, complex PTSD, borderline personality disorder or extreme stress may also have alters as we Plurals know them, or at least as the ‘dissociative parts of the personality’, which this theory of structural dissociation calls us. – From a Plural perspective, I do not understand the differences, besides being integrated less in DID (or tertiary Structural dissociation) compared to more integrative capacity in secondary Structural dissociation of the personality. 

"I don't understand the differences, besides (lists the vital difference to why DID is called dissociative identity disorder)"

Also, not a single person was arguing that OSDD does not have alters. That is baffling to me why you included that on the list. Furthermore, yes, these could be plural -- but they are not alters similar to DID. There is a major difference there, in that in DID, the alters are fully developed identities, whereas in most cases of PTSD and borderline personality disorder, they aren't. But I will give you credit here -- this time, you said "MAY" also have alters. And yes, I would give you that credit -- some people with borderline personality disorder may see their splits as plural in some way.

But I have found, through talking to people with various trauma based disorders, that often, my alters are very different from their whatever they are experiencing. Because, once again, I am far more distinct. I've actually spoken once to a friend of mine with PTSD and OCD on this topic, because (due to her OCD), after meeting me, she believed she might be plural. It wasn't the case, but her states of being were distinct enough that she felt that way, however briefly. And then she stopped identifying that way, as it was harming her mentally to do so. While that is not the case for every individual who feels plural, it was the case for her. I don't want to look at PTSD and say, "This makes someone inherently plural," because it doesn't.

So, simply put, the ToSD is not about plurality. It is about dissociation of a single personality; not about multiple personalities. While the other disorders listed in the theory can be plural, they are not inherently so. (And this still has not explained why the author believes the ToSD to be ableist).

If DID is not Plurality, then why have such a thing as a DID diagnosis? What is the difference then between complex PTSD and DID, if not the Plurality? – More on this topic next time!

I've deliberated on this point for awhile (and I do NOT care to try to hunt down if PttP made good on their promise and made another article about this idea). I actually tried to discuss it in a server I'm in, which went a bit in a loop due to "plurality" being inherently seen as endogenic plurality (maybe I'll make a post about that sometime).

But leave it to my singlet partner to knock it out of the park, lol.

They brought up the fact that they have spiraling depression; depression that is worsened by other disorders they have, such as ADHD and anxiety. It just loops around continuously. Now, they could have a hypothetical diagnosis (just like C-PTSD would be, as that's not an actual diagnosis that exists) of "Spiraling Depression." But would that diagnosis be as informative as their multiple diagnosis of depression, anxiety, and ADHD?

By having the specific diagnosis they have, they're able to get more clarity on symptoms and understanding of what's happening. And I think that's a compelling argument for DID over C-PTSD in this case. Because, PttP, like it or not, plurality is disordered for many individuals. Even if the symptoms of DID and C-PTSD do overlap in many ways (and differ -- for instance, C-PTSD has far less correlation with dissociation and amnesia, and DID has far less correlation with emotional regulation problems and flashbacks to trauma), they overlap in such a way that it is important to be specific.

And yes, DID is specific in the fact that alters are part of it. No, DID is clearly not just plurality with C-PTSD, as you argue. There's a lot of different factors that differentiate the two disorders. But even with the large amount of overlap they can have (to the degree that the two are so highly comorbid that I see people argue you can't have DID without the other), the plurality is disabling for many individuals. And I say this as an individual who is not disabled by their plurality, and yet is diagnosed with DID.

The reason there's such a thing as a DID diagnosis is because having multiple, dissociative identities is disordered for many individuals. For me, I am disordered by my DID in the fact that I deal with severe amnesia that distresses me, as well as issues that correspond to C-PTSD. The treatment may be similar -- but if I were simply diagnosed with C-PTSD, I would not get the specific care I need, that being an assurance that my individual parts get the help they need. Which you, PttP, rally against later in this article (at the Systematic Approach to Dissociation section).

The haunted self states that Structural dissociation has become chronic in those patients with trauma-related disorders. (page 12.) Which, first and foremost, means that Structural dissociation is not a (trauma-related) disorder on it’s own, as some people claim these days. 

Accurate. It's a symptom, not a disorder. I believe what PttP is getting at here is the claim that dissociation is only a symptom of dissociative disorders; however, that's now what that sentence actually says, and it's incredibly frustrating to see this pair of sentences to try and make that claim. "The Haunted Self says that structural dissociation is chronic in patients with trauma-related disorders. This means that structural dissociation isn't a trauma-related disorder." Okay, yes, but that does not negate that it is talking about disorders, not plurality.

However, I point this quote out for a different reason. The theory of Structural dissociation idolizes integration. And although they say that ‘’no one has to go away’’, they also clearly explain to therapists, to not engage with us ‘dissociative parts of the personality,’ unless absolutely needed. Instead it is suggested that the therapist speaks whenever possible, through the ANP fronting. We the Plurals, then have the most integrative capacity, which basically means we can integrate the experience best. Which should be encouraged by the therapist at all times. I can understand how it is useful that ‘everyone’ listens in during therapy. But this should not be the case when we express ourselves!

And here we get to the bulk of the picture; PttP's hatred of anyone who so much as dares consider final fusion as an option for recovery.

First, let's correct a major misconception that I have had to correct timelessly in my time on systumblr. Integration is not final fusion. Integration is the lowering of dissociative barriers in order to communicate and function with your system as one whole; this could be through working together (functional multiplicity) or through fusing into one being (final fusion). And, as a few users in sysumblr have pointed out recently, these two things are not diametrically opposed. There's no hard and fast line between FM and FF. They're both just signs of recovery, and any recovery is beautiful. To shame anyone for going a specific route that makes them feel better is shameful in of itself, imo.

Second, let's tackle the image that PttP provides and show you why their quotes-out-of-context are complete bullshit.

"ALL interventions need to be geared toward increasing integration and decreasing dissociation" -- All treatment needs to be geared at helping alters connect with each other and decreasing memory barriers.

"Always use interventions at the highest level of integration possible, e.g., if the client can work with all parts, it is not necessary to work with parts individually" -- I can communicate with all of my parts. My therapist does not need to explain to each of my 14 parts the same exact thing each time they show up; he can work with me one week, and the next week, Curtis will remember what we discussed and can continue without my therapist needing to explain what we did last week -- I just make sure that Curtis is on the same page as me before that session.

"Use integrative language. 'Parts' language is OK, but emphasize 'Parts of you.' Parts should not be treated as individuals -- An individual as in someone who is not sharing a body. An individual as in someone who is a separate body not sharing it with 13 other people ffs. By focusing entirely on "You're an entirely different person," then it's going to be really hard to convince a patient in the throes of flashback, "I know YOU didn't experience that particular trauma, but that other person did, so now it's your problem to deal with" without reminding them that you are together in this one body. (Furthermore... This just straight up isn't as common in modern therapy, at least from what I've seen and experienced. I had to CONVINCE my therapist to stop fucking calling my parts "people" because it made me angry to be stuck in this body. Now I use parts language, and I'm not stuck in this body, I AM this body).

Lastly, I want to highlight: "Always be curious about what a part is unable to realize: this is the treatment target" -- this, to me, is so vital, and I feel like PttP skips over it. This is connected to the "highest part of integration" point; if a part isn't at the highest part of integration. If a part cannot realize something, it is up to the therapist to help them treat that. For instance, I just worked on EMDR yesterday with my therapist on realizing I am capable. Shockingly, about two EMDR sessions ago, Curtis did that same realization -- but as a part, I couldn't realize that myself. So my therapist had to work with me, as a part, directly.

So, to recap: this is all fairly standard, healthy guidelines for working with systems. Don't pit the parts against each other by implying they're all completely separate, work on communication and lowering barriers, and don't repeat yourself when you don't have to.

How's PttP feel about this?

"And although they say that ‘’no one has to go away’’, they also clearly explain to therapists, to not engage with us ‘dissociative parts of the personality,’ unless absolutely needed." Nope. I don't see that anywhere above. "Instead it is suggested that the therapist speaks whenever possible, through the ANP fronting." Also incorrect; nowhere in the above picture does it suggest that the therapist speak through the fronting ANP. That would certainly make my therapy difficult, given that we don't even have clear ANPs; my therapist just works with whoever is out. "We the Plurals, then have the most integrative capacity, which basically means we can integrate the experience best. Which should be encouraged by the therapist at all times. I can understand how it is useful that ‘everyone’ listens in during therapy. But this should not be the case when we express ourselves!" Wow, it sounds like whoever wrote this article feels very separated from their other parts. It sounds like the therapist will need to work at the highest level of integration possible, which is really low for your system. Your therapist would need to work with individual parts far more than mine would, because you don't have a high level of integration currently. Nowhere does it ever suggest that your ANPs need to be out for therapy. That's your jaded and biased view of a completely neutral statement.

To me, it sounds as if they want to make us all like OSDD, where one part regularly fronts and others speak through them. And although I think there is a dissociative spectrum, I do not think that changing the diagnostic criteria we meet from the diagnosis of DID to OSDD will lead to ‘healing.’ And in DID, in particular, requiring all communications to relay through one particular (perhaps malleable or favored) ‘alter’ that sounds a lot like silencing to me. Because the therapist (or any other outside person,) can never know (for sure) whether the part who is presenting, is truly conveying all information which is coming from inside. This book talks a lot about shame, but forgets that our ANPs might not feel comfortable repeating what those EPs just said inside, and that the information may be so overwhelming for them as to cause them to have intense dissociative symptoms. Half-truths might reach the therapist.

"They want to make us all like OSDD" -- not a thing. Stop fearmongering.

"Changing the diagnostic criteria we meet from the diagnosis of DID to OSDD" -- Part of the reason I am all for getting rid of both of those diagnosis and just changing it to CDD, so that people can't make this absolutely batshit argument.

"Relay through one particular (perhaps malleable or favored" alter" -- Already reviewed this, but jesus christ I hate that you just called them malleable. That is so horrifically ableist, to suggest that the fucking therapists -- people who are helping systems -- are just trying to manipulate an alter. Fuck that.

"The therapist can never know for sure whether the part who is presenting is truly conveying all information which is coming from inside" -- =_=.... "Hey, Wade, good to see you! So, what do you remember from last week?" "Wow, hey therapist, I am going to tell you the honest truth, I remember exactly jack shit." "Alright, so let's review-" It's as simple as that PttP. When we aren't able to communicate, we just... review. And if I decided to not be honest with my therapist... well that's just a fucking waste of three hours (two for driving, one for session) and money (gas and session cost).

The final few sentences is running with their misinterpretation of what the image was actually saying, so I'm not going to harp on that any longer.

The writers of this theory of structural dissociation explain dissociation as experiencing separation in simple terms and in more difficult terms use the meaning of the term dissociation, formulated by Pierre Janet (1859–1947), ‘’Structural dissociation is a particular organization in which different psychobiological subsystems of the personality are unduly rigid and closed to each other. These features lead to a lack of coherence and coordination within the survivor’s personality as a whole.’’ (Preface Haunted self) 

To translate that, for the layman: Structural dissociation is when parts of the personality are separate from each other, leading to a lack of consistency in a person's being. This can be represented as plurality (such as in CDDs) or as just inconsistent singular personality (such as in PTSD).

They explain integration as ice cubes melting and the water coming together, or dams breaking and water coming together. Which to them equals no one goes away. Everyone is still there, it’s just one body of water now.

Because they're singlets who don't get it. Rather than being a bitch about it, we could... explain in better terms, which so many fucking people have done. For instance, I use the puzzle piece metaphor for ourselves. We are each one puzzle piece; when we come together, you can still see the lines that show I'm a piece of the puzzle, but we are now together. But even if we use their metaphor... Nobody went away. The ice cube melted, but that doesn't mean you suddenly have less water. You're still there. Just together. By phrasing it as "going away" when fusion happens, you're purposefully fearmongering what actually happens in fusion; it's coming together, not someone going away.

To me, it sounds more like soup, because not everyone in a system is the same, like with water. So you throw in your EPs and ANPs (and those are very limited terms for our diversity!) and then you have a soup. Although soup is great, it is not the same as the loose ingredients. A potatoe is a potatoe. A carrot is a carrot. But potatoe-carrot soup is something new and different. You cannot remove the potatoe from the soup, it is no longer a whole potatoe. And potatoe-carrot soup cannot do the same things the original potatoes and carrots could do.

.... I will not lie, this confused the fuck out of me. Is this another analogy for integration? Very confused. Have fun though.

We know from a 6 year follow up study that only 12.8% of participants were able to reach integration as described in the theory of Structural dissociation. (page 4) That is a very low percentage. In any scientific research for medicine or therapy for example, a 12.8% positive outcome would not be tolerable. Yet the whole theory of treatment within Structural dissociation is based on it.

Once again, this was debunked (same link as above). Also, the ToSD isn't fucking based on fusion. It's based on structural dissociation. Yknow. As it says in the name. The therapeutic treatment is based on integrating past dissociation. Yknow. Integration. Not fusion.

A chronic disorder, often debilitating, with a much-respected and idolized healing option with only 12.8% success rate, sounds ableist to me

... how? Genuinely, how is it ableist? Ableism is discrimination against disabled people. How is... How is trying to help people with a disorder discrimination?

Favoring OSDD over DID comes from singular normative biased thinking

This just straight up isn't happening, you just read something in the worst faith possible and pissed on the poor because of it.

The haunted self has a chapter dedicated to phobia of dissociative parts. Maybe the writers, should re-read the chapter and apply it to their own way of thinking.

Oof ouch the edge. Anyways, now I want to read that chapter, I'm curious if they go into the shame around splitting in DID.

It also sounds to me, as if clinicians say something else to our face, then what they write in their books. Especially when it comes to alter integration or final fusion as Kluft calls it.

Integration and Fusion are not the same thing, and a clinician in 2019 (when this article was written) may not match the novel that was published in 2006, based on psychology from as early as 1916. It's almost like shit progresses and time keeps moving! Remarkable I know.

Although I do not think personalities is the right term for us, nor is the word parts. It is derogatory, dehumanizing & it is taking away from our autonomy, roles and authenticity as individuals.

[Stares in "I have never felt more alive, authentic, and real than when I was referred to as a part of a whole"]

[Stares in "I use it/its pronouns and this individual probably hates that huh, if they're so against dehumanization"]

[Stares in "Just tell your fucking therapist what goddamn language you prefer, because I had to do that too, you aren't fucking special"]

Anyways. Parts language is not universally derogatory, dehumanizing, or taking away your individuality. For me, it has been incredibly healing. Furthermore, it is genuinely what is happening from a medical standpoint. From a medical standpoint, splits in DID are occurring due to, you guessed it, trauma. You don't suddenly just... get possessed or mitosis a new person in your brain who is entirely separate from you. The parts of you are parts of you, regardless of how you label them, because you are composed in one body. If we get into possession and endogenesis, then remarkably, the ToSD does not apply, because the ToSD is strictly about structural dissociation. Not plurality.

And so I often wonder whether the alter integration they desire, equals just not being Plural anymore in the minds of the writers of Structural dissociation. If it does, it makes sense to diminish us to parts. And it also makes sense to claim “no one has to go away”, if they never believed we are separated in the first place. After all, it is the ‘experience of separation’, not actual separation, as they say, we did not split off. So was using the term ‘parts’ in 1987 progressive, or a step to further diminish, gaslight and silence us?

If you wonder about this often, you need to step the fuck away from system spaces and touch some grass.

Integration is not fusion, I cannot stress this enough.

Fusion does not equal no longer being plural; ask any fused system (or hell, just a fused part) and they will tell you, flat out, "I'm still us, just different." If someone no longer wants to identify as plural due to fusion, is that not their choice? Why would you care about someone else's experience that much?

Being parts is not diminishing anything, as someone who uses parts language.

If we are multiple parts, and the ToSD acknowledges us as multiple parts, then clearly the ToSD acknowledges we are separate. The goal of the theraputical practices that revolve around the ToSD is to help lessen the separation between parts. Not remove us entirely. Still not sure where you got that idea from, other than your fearmongering about Fusion.

Using parts language was literally just people looking at MPD systems and going, "Huh... you know, maybe that is a single person and not multiple people crammed into one body. Maybe that is just a severely traumatized individual, and we should treat them as a person, same as anyone else."

Or maybe they were all high on cocaine. That's possible too.

Here is my problem with how the DID community treats this theory. From the community feedback it seems that many of you do not want integration, as explained in this theory. And you cannot cherry-pick the sweet parts, when it comes to theories like this. Especially not when integration is so interwoven with this theory. The theory of Structural dissociation is often presented as truth in our communities, even though this theory is not widely accepted, not acknowledged, not proven (or provable) and hence just a theory like any other  – there are many theories about DID. 

Obligatory "integration and fusion are not the same." Furthermore, this idea is based on community feedback in 2019. I can't wait for 2029, when things will be completely different once again. Lastly, the theory is widely accepted. It is the most accepted theory of how dissociation works structurally that we have. While there are other theories about DID, I have not seen any of them that better describe my experiences or make as much sense. (And, unsurprisingly, you don't add any of those alternative theories here).

You also cannot say you like the application of this theory for DID, but not for borderline and vice versa. The theory comes as a package deal by explaining a progression of Structural dissociation. I think many people did not read all of the haunted self, as it’s long and dry. And even though most quotes from this article come from the first few pages, it is information many do not know. I read the book twice and followed a conference with its writers. I hope this article explains things, to those who endorse this theory without having actually read it. There are many more questionable things about this, but I cannot address them all.

This article only explained your personal vendetta against fusion and parts language, and your lack of ability to comprehend a percentage point. It did nothing to further the understanding of plurality, as the ToSD is not about plurality, and it didn't even explain why the ToSD is ableist. Nowhere have you explained how the ToSD itself is discriminating against disordered/disabled individuals. You just threw the word out, primarily while focusing on the therapeutic practices that utilize the ToSD. Even if we came to an agreement that the practices that utilize the theory are ableist, that does not make the theory itself ableist. Good grief.

Obviously it is not needed to throw away the baby with the bath water either, that is not what I am proposing. What I am proposing though, is that you take a second look at the theory you endorse and why.

I endorse it because it is the clearest understanding of structural dissociation I have found, and it helps me to conceptualize myself as multiple parts within one whole. If that doesn't work for you, congrats, the theory doth not apply. You can find therapists who don't agree with it and who will work with you directly without the ToSD.

But to say it is ableist because it doesn't fit your particular framework is prideful at best and fearmongering at worst.

Because if you just like the part about how we are not split off, but born with different self-states you can quote Putnam. And if you like the idea of PTSD consisting of EPs and ANPs, you can quote Myers. And if you like fusion integration, you can quote theory of Structural dissociation.

Nowhere in the theory of structural dissociation does it suggest you need to fuse. Nowhere in the Haunted Self does it suggest you need to fuse. Nowhere in modern therapeutic best practices does it suggest you need to fuse. You are simply trying to scare people, at this point.

That's... about it for the article. It is horrific from everything I was seeing, and I cannot even begin to process the lack of context. I think it's because, as Stronghold says in the comments, this article was based on a conference they attended. They attended a conference where people discussed the ToSD.

Would it not be better to say, then, that the conference is ableist?

But that wouldn't really draw in a big crowd, would it? Not as many clicks or views. Why not challenge the entire theory? That would get a lot more views. A lot more clicks and attention. Isn't that the point of articles like these? To be seen and viewed?

I implore everyone to remember that this was an opinion article. It is not based on fact; it is based on the authors own bias. This is Stronghold's personal feelings about the ToSD, based on their personal interpretation of the ToSD, based on their personal beliefs on fusion. They try to use quotes to back up their claims, but their claims are entirely based on opinion.

So, to counteract that: From my opinion, the ToSD is not ableist, and while ableists have used it in the past to hurt others, that does not make the theory itself bad. The theory is incredibly useful, and everyone who struggles with dissociation or trauma disorders should do a bit of research into it to see if the framework works for them.

FURTHER READING:

Syscurse posted this link to the System Speak podcast debunking this article. A good podcast overall!

Here's a PDF link to the Haunted Self. I never actually read the whole thing before, so I'm happy to have found a PDF online of it. Cannot vet if that's a good link or not, but I'm moving pretty fast now that this thing is around 5k words.

A debunk of this article from SysmedsareSexist, which, funny enough, I did not read before writing this big long post.

Hiiragi and SoaF's comments about parts language in the article, and a very good reminder that we should critique how science looks at disorders, and discuss potential ableist views -- I don't disagree with that at all. It IS possible that the reason parts language is used is meant in a dehumanizing manner -- but I also think it's good to dig into those ideas and figure out why we feel that way, and what evidence there actually is for it (rather than misinformation about fusion being used as a major basis for the argument).

And honestly, just make sure to look up information on therapeutic practices and the ToSD folks!

[bisexualnerd]

Hii i wanted to tell you i loved that last chapter you dropped, I saw the tag major character death and immediately went ah. so it’s one of those fics. where jay dies and it’s just hurt hurt hurt as the last note. Ahhh just—they haven’t acknowledged each other as brothers yet your honor 💔 and Tim knows now (great pretending your found family aren’t also vigilantes acting from him) and Jason never knew, like peak potential. I can imagine he’s gonna go ??? who the fuck pulled my baby bird into the vigilante business and uh why?? without knowing (if this goes like we all know) that Tim was the one who wanted to honor him and keep Robin’s legacy alive. Also I can imagine the whole imaginary friend think goes back to a box at the back at his head?? Timmy was just getting warmer to the truth and Jay goes out to pull this stuff. classic. (me being annoyed) — Aww but really poor Jay I can imagine he’s never felt more spiteful of the fact that his powers don’t extend to phasing through things and not just walls. jay in my head: cursing under his breath how he just gets partial danny phantom adjacent abilities, i mean if he’s gonna have a power why not have it full pump I-can-walk-through-walls-disappear-and-fly package.

really just really excited where u take the fic, hope u don’t mind my rambling, just wanted to drop my thoughts 💜💜 also like take your time, i hope im not adding pressure or anything

Ohmygosh it's been so long since I've got an inbox on Tumblr!! And of course I don't mind because I'm ecstatic!!! I love hearing you guys' thoughts about my writing!!!

And Jay's death is like, such a constant in the fandom (and when he doesn't die, he still gets injured and traumatised so severely). And there was no way Tim would have let the Waynes know because if he had done that, they would have never, under any circumstances, let him go out to photograph anymore 😂😂

I actually did initially draft up his power to be able to phase through everything, but then I remembered all my evil plans for the series and I was like, skrttt~ STOP! And I had to nerf him 😅 Now I can picture a side story, or a small part of a fic of him cursing his power in Ethiopia 😈 (and why is partial danny phantom adjacent abilities so freaking funny 🤣)

Thank you so so much for the really fun and lovely inbox!!! I hope the direction of the series in the future will keep you interested 🥰🥰

[blacktofade]

As I'm writing this I feel like a mother cat dropping off a kitten she doesn't want at the doorstep of the nice neighbor who sometimes feeds her. Like this poor helpless baby probably deserves a home but not with me.

So basically I wrote this nsfw hotel morning-after/hook-up scene as part of a much more complicated RPF Falseren story that I got obsessed with but will never actually finishing writing. And because I lost interest and I am incapable of publishing anything without context, I'm never going to do anything with this. But you seem into Ren and RPF so maybe this scene will find a good home with you rather than rot in my draft.

So read this, or don't. Share it, or don't. Write something inspired by this, or don't. Subtweet about how you don't want porn in you inbox, or don't. I don't care, this kitten is your problem now. I'm off to go chatter at birds and be feral in the woods again.

--

When she wakes up the next morning, it’s to a warm body pressing along her back.

The contented hum she lets out as she pushes back into the him earns her a whisper right next to her ear.

“Falsie? You awake?”

She can barely even hear the sleep in his voice, and the idea of him laying in the hotel bed watching her sleep before curling up behind her drifts through her mind. She wonders if he was smiling.

“Nope. Not yet. Might be soon though.” She mumbles back, fumbling behind her trying to grab his hand.

She can feel the rumble of the laugh in his chest and puffs of air ghost across her neck as she finally finds his hand and drags it in front of her, cuddling it to her chest.

“Good to know. Let me know when you’re up.”

“Someone’s already up.” She chuckles, pushing her hips back against his erection already pressing against her ass.

“That’s what happens when I’m in bed with a gorgeous woman.”

“Gorgeous woman? Where is she? Did she slip out before you woke me up?”

 The rest of the hypothetical she was about to tease him with dies on her tongue as Ren shifts his hips behind her until that erection slips between her legs.

“I’m trying not to let her slip away.” Ren says, the arm against her chest pulling her into him even more. Maybe it’s the haziness of her brain still waking up or the cocoon of the blankets still around them, but the tenderness of the comment doesn’t make her want to run. In fact, it makes brings all of her attention to the fact that Ren apparently isn’t the only one who woke up horny. Maybe the slick between her legs is from all the rounds last night, or from the dreams she had of riding him in the stupid Twitch rivals chair, or from how everything is so warm and so soft around her except Ren’s cock, which is hot and hard against her.

She needs him inside her right now.

“Ren…” she says somewhere between a request and a whine, hitching her leg over his, bringing him even closer to her center.

“I got you, I got you,” he all but whispers into her hair as his hand detangles from hers and slides down to her hip, anchoring her so he can tip his hips and slides into her.

Fucking hell.

It’s a totally different angle then anything they’ve done before and it’s still perfect. For not the first and likely not the last time, she wonders how Ren of all people has the perfect dick. And when he pulls almost all the way out, she lets out an actually fucking moan as she feels him drag against her.

He gets in a few thrusts before she realizes that in their position, she doesn’t really have any leverage to move. The little groan she lets out as she squirms back against his chest just earns her another laugh.

“How you doing there Falsie?” He teases between delicate kisses along her neck and shoulder.

Another frustrated noise just earns her a squeeze from the hand on her hip as she opens her legs a little more.

Even though she’s just woken up, she feels restless. She’s used to doing things during sex; kissing, touching, thrusting. Anything really. But now Ren just has her pinned with a simple hand on her hip, slowly driving her insane with his consistent, even thrusts from behind her. It feels like something is buzzing just under the surface of her skin, not enough to get her anywhere, but enough to drive her insane.

“Ren…..ren,” she whimpers, face pressed into the pillow and bottom arm clutching into the bed sheets. She needs to do something other than just feel Ren fuck her.

“I got you False.”

She too focused on the feeling of him dragging in and out of her to notice him shifting behind her until she feels an arm slide into the space between her and the mattress. With his hand pushing out into the bed in front of her, it finally gives her the chance to do something with all this energy simmering inside her, and she switches from clawing at the sheets to threading her fingers through his, holding onto him like he’s the only thing tethering her to reality.

Turns out that was all she needed, something real to ground her. Because that wakes up enough of her brain to realize she can absolutely do more than just let Ren turn her brain to mush with his steady, unhurried pace. The fingers of her free hand finally find her clit, and that’s what she needs to turn the consistent, maddening sensations of Ren’s mouth on her shoulder and hand on her hip and dick still dragging in and out of her with a steady rhythm, into a jolt of energy right through her.

What finally tips her over though is when Ren squeezes her hand. He’s been messing with her senses since the moment she woke up. All touch and warmth and sensation and sound without anything of his to see. She’s barely had a chance to touch him. Hell, she hasn’t even seen his face yet this morning and he’s already inside her for god same. So when she sees his fingers tense around hers against the rumpled hotel sheets that all she needs to finally free falls over the edge into an orgasm that burns through her like wildfire. All that simmering energy under her skin suddenly alights, finally feelings like release as the orgasm sizzles through her

He’s still inside her for a moment, first as she clenches around him and then as he lets her catch her breath. It’s fitting that she comes back to her senses with her face buried in Ren’s bicep and her knuckles white from gripping his hand so hard.

False wouldn’t say she usually got sleepy after she came. It never seemed to effect her one way or the other. But this orgasm is different. She is now very much awake.

“False what are you-“ is all Ren can get out as she starts moving, righting herself enough to turn around and pin him to the bed. The look of shock as he stares up at her straddling him is almost enough to change her plans. Almost enough for her to pin his shoulder’s to the mattress, lift her hips up, get him inside her again, and ride him until he’s as much of a babbling mess as he made her with his stupidly perfect dick.

But she’s got other plans.

For him.

And his dick. 

She locks eyes with him as she shimmies down his body, throwing the covers off behind her, forgotten somewhere on the floor.

She can hear him swallow as she looks away to readjusts herself between his outstretched legs.

Which makes it all that much better when she looks up at him from between his legs, not breaking eye contact for a second as she takes him fully in her mouth.

“False!” He nearly shouts with his head thrown back. The vibrations from her laugh as she starts to really suck him off must catch him by surprise again because his hips twitch up from the bed, sending him even deeper in her throat.

False wouldn’t say she liked giving blow jobs. Having a dick down her throat wasn’t an experience she would necessarily describe as a good time. But once again, Ren’s unfairly fantastic dick is very workable even as he thrusts up into her. Plus, she’s always enjoyed seeing her partner’s reactions to her blow jobs more than the physical experience itself. And Ren’s reactions are spectacular. His hands gripping the sheets and running through his hair, truly lovely groans every time she swirls her tongue around him, and the way he says her name is a sound she wants to remember forever. He even does a commendable job of trying to warn her that he’s about to come, but she’s had a plan for this moment since she flipped them over, and the way he looks down at her is absolutely awe with the last dredges of his sanity as she takes all of him in her mouth and sucks hard is worth everything.

She swallows all of it, taking a moment to whip the spit from her chin and sit up as Ren comes back to his senses.

“I can’t-don’t expect me to do anything after that.” Ren finally jokes, still sprawled out on the bed a little dazed.

She takes pity on him, crawling back up to fit herself under his arm, throwing an arm over his chest and draping a leg over his hips. It takes another moment before he wraps his arm around her shoulder, tugging her close again. 

Ren chuckles at her when she playfully bites his shoulder. “You let the intrusive thoughts win there.”

“You fucked me before you even brushed your teeth. Who’s got worst self control?”

“But it was in a way that you didn’t even have to suffer from my morning breath.”

“Yes. Your terrible morning breath.” She deadpans, already shifting up to kiss him.

“Well I mean if you think I have-“

“Ren shut up.” She says, throwing a leg over his torso to straddle him and kiss him in a way that shows there are things she would much rather him do with his mouth at the moment than brush his stupid teeth.

ANON!!! I am putting down cat food!! Please! Return to me! This is so fucking hot I'm going to swallow my own fist to keep from saying all the deranged things!!! I need more, bestie!! 😭

[cflight]

Apologizing AGAIN for dropping Ekira's blog and leaving asks to ferment in my inbox until I came back completely randomly. I've been dealing with a ton of burnout for the past year due to basically everything I've been working on, and with all the work I had stacked on me, I just sort of... died.

I'm hoping now that I have the energy again, I can finally, finally allow myself some rest and get back to writing this silly little goat. I've missed my rp partners like crazy, and Ekira's muse has been dying to get some time to shine again.

I know I most likely have a lot of things I owe, and am currently going through my inbox and drafts to sort through it all, so if I haven't gotten to your message, or if you'd like to send it again, let me know. Or if you'd like me to dig through your meme tag and send you something, or simply write you a starter, let me know!

2025 is the year of the goat, baybee!! Ekira comin' back in full swing!!!