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meetthegofer · 22 days ago

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🦀🦅💕😑💀 (esp interested in the last one considering game mechanics)

THANK YOU TORRANCE MY GOAT.. once again since this will be a little long its going under a readmore 🔥 thank you though this is a very fun selection

🦀- How did they handle realizing they were in love? Embarrassed? Nervous? Mad?

fossey was absolutely the more accepting of his feelings of the two in this regard; though they were definitely pretty nervous they tended to downplay it a lot, like "welllll... people get crushes on coworkers with all the time!! plus its not like anything's gonna come of it, so its fine for me to like him.. im sure ill get over it soon" <- that. generally just didnt register that they might have a chance At All and as a result didnt really catch themself reading too much into his words/actions because "well its not like he'd like me anyways! that would be wasting my time. i have a job to do, after all".

sniper on the other hand...

for him, the realization was like being hit in the face with a brick. not because he thought fossey was particularly undesirable in any way that would make him go "i cant believe i like THEM", but rather because he was still operating under the expectation of not really getting to know them or really form any relationship/attachment past just. general coworker amiability. it honestly made him panic a bit, because he wasnt sure if this would affect his performance in battle ["if i get hung up on something like that, itll be easier for me to get distracted and hurt more easily. or worse, ill underperform" <- that sorta thing] and again, he tries to consider himself as being somewhat divorced from feelings, at least on a professional level. of course, we know this to not be true [calls his parents regularly, shows genuine care to his teammates, etc etc] but well. hes stupid. <3.

🦅- How good are their friends at being wingmen? Do they even help at all or just sit back watching the pining with a bag of popcorn?

...you could not possibly have a worse ensemble of wingmen than the options laid out for these two. at the absolute least, fossey has the support of miss pauling, who reassures them about things when they feel down. however shes not really an active wingman? like she encourages fossey but doesnt ever actively try to vouch for fossey as a potential partner for sniper, mostly because fossey has asked her Not to [going back to the whole lack of perceived desirability they feel and all]. other than that, they havent really confided in their feelings to anyone else, mostly because they know theres literally no circumstance under which it would end without great humiliation.

sniper, on the other hand, tries to be discreet when asking for advice, but everyone kind of Knows who hes got his eyes set on. so when he tries to ask for help and is immediately met with a chorus of "ooooh so youre finally gonna ask out fossey?" hes like FUCK YOU and also how did you know [fake idgafer they saw you saying good morning!! when you dont do that for anyone else!!!!]. so i think he would get frustrated and then not ask for help again

that said i can definitely see a few of the mercs trying to take things into their own hands. scout makes stupid jokes to fossey about sniper ["yknow hes got a picture of ya in his camper, right?" "HE WANTS TO SHOOT ME?" "NO"], soldier probably tries giving him unsolicited advice that literally only worked because zhanna matches his freak so well, and medic breaks HIPAA in a strange way to try and bring them closer together. none of it ever works but theyre all quite content to watch the two of them very awkwardly dance around their feelings for one another and tease them about it [though mostly sniper. since fossey does a shockingly good job at hiding her side of things + they havent known her nearly as long]

💕- Who confessed first and how? Did it go as planned or did shenanigans ensue?

oh this ones fun. they both kinda confessed at different times, but the first one just... didnt work? going back to this question set, after fossey apologizes/confronts sniper about his avoidance, he Does confess his feelings, but does so in a more vague way that fossey absolutely Did Not Clock as romantic. unfortunately this ended with the most brutally unintentional friendzone known to man

its not as though All hope is lost, though. like i said, there were multiple "confessions", albeit fossey's was admittedly much more thought out in terms of like. the specifics.

see, they have a really bad habit of overworking [mostly because they lose track of time very easily, and their work is so repetitive its easy to get lost in the sauce. they arent a very intentional overachiever], and a lot of sleep problems. as such, it was bound to happen that they would one day fall asleep at their desk, having worked themself to exhaustion and not really noticing it until they'd woken up...

sniper notices fossey sleeping at their desk, hours after they were supposed to leave for the day [being a bit of an insomniac himself, he would sometimes just. walk around. everyone on the team is kind of a freak it makes sense to me. you know]. so he goes and wakes them up like "hey dude you were supposed to leave hours ago" and theyre like FUCK right ill be out of here in a second. however, before they can leave, sniper remembers that fossey usually Walks home. so he offers them a ride, because the idea of them walking home alone at like 2am greatly unsettles him. they agree, and since its only a 15/20 minute walk it ends up being a very short drive, spent in an admittedly comfortable silence between the two. maybe a longing glance or two is passed without the other noticing.

and just before fossey steps out of the van to go fuck off to their apartment building, without even thinking they lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek, then step out and wave goodbye like nothing happened. [its not until theyre actively closing the door to the apartment building behind them that they realize what theyve done. and by then theyre like FUCK]

sniper is obviously speechless, because just a couple months ago he got friendzoned and he was still wrestling with the fact that his feelings were only getting stronger with time. he just kind of sits there for a second before he realizes he probably looks crazy just sitting there in a van outside an apartment complex that is primarily home to like. old ladies. and on the drive back to his usual parking space for the camper hes just like Fuuuck work is gonna be so awkward tomorrow.

and the next day they do talk it out.. fossey stops by his camper and is like Heyyy so can we um 😅 talk about last night haha... and they give a verbal confession but end it with like "im not really expecting you to feel the same way but since you basically already know i figured id tell you..." and snipers just there like It is unbelievable how much i feel the same way. i imagine the conversation itself would be quite awkard/seemingly "anticlimactic" for the start of a relationship, sort of like [incoming maine moment] shimamitsu's first little stint as a couple in skip to loafer where they just very awkwardly are like "do you... wanna try going out?" after a rather embarrassingly sudden confession. but both of them are autistic and awkward so <3 love is love <3

😑- How easily do they get jealous and how do they handle it?

fossey is admittedly not very jealous at all LOL though this mostly comes from the fact that they dont place very high value in themself. so theyre like "? if he ever found someone else he'd just go for it man i dont think it'd be worthwhile to keep me around just to cheat". they also just arent really the possessive type, since they do actually trust him quite a bit in this regard and are very much of the "if you love something let it go" mindset. however in the context where i ship sniper with the other mercs theyre very chill with it. because fossey has the fujoshi spirit 👍

if they ever Would get jealous i think they would handle it well enough on their own, though. they tried exactly one [1] time to make a joke about sniper leaving for someone else and he was MORTIFIED so they were like Damn i probably shouldnt do that again that was a little mean.

sniper i think would probably be a little bit more jealous? it doesnt come up very much, but every once in a while someone gets just a liiittle too close or looks a liiittle too long and hes like ? You could back up a little bit!

he mostly keeps it to himself since fossey isn't and has never been the type to pursue or flirt with others even in a playful context, so when he Does get jealous its usually directed at the other party. i think early on he mightve gone to fossey about it first and when they got confused [because they didnt think the other person saw them that way + were absolutely NOT trying to go for them] he realized it didnt make much sense and didnt really bring it up like that again. not much reason to blame fossey for how others feel when they arent the one Inviting those feelings, yknow? at most he might be like "damn that guy would Not leave you alone" but even then it happens quite rarely, so its not something they really have to address more than like. once or twice a year. that said i Do think he might get a little more clingy without really noticing it... hugging a little more tightly or casually throwing an arm around their shoulders a little longer than usual.

💀- If the canon character is canonically dead, how did your OC handle their death? (Or did you completely omit their death cause fuck canon?)

this one is interesting, not just because of the game mechanics but also because of his canon [albeit temporary] comic death. when considering respawn compatibility + mechanics and the nature of the game, i think fossey is desensitized enough to how much violence occurs around these guys on a daily basis that the concept of sniper being hurt in this way doesnt really faze him any more than it does miss pauling or any other merc. like he knows he'll be back. its fine. though i do think in the back of his mind he sometimes worries that one day sniper might come back and not remember/not love/not care for him anymore, although this has yet to happen, and if scout's persistence with trying to court miss pauling is any proof, it likely never will.

his comic death, however, is a different story, primarily because it left him with some pretty permanent scars. fossey freaked out so fucking bad when they found out what happened [since they werent present for it] and they just like. almost couldnt really believe it? the desensitization to his death in the context of the gravel war + respawn machine and how it functions made them less cognizant of the idea that Hey he could still die for real one day. and that realization shook them pretty badly... if they were actually present for it i think they would genuinely be inconsolable for a while. but LUCKILY hes back 👍 insert i cant help myself "all clean!" image here

#answers #ask meme #calikiwi

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futurefind · 4 months ago

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Hiatus Announcement

//I've alluded to it before but now I'm actually verbalizing it so!! Hiatus announcement be upon ye!! More specifically, a 'pseudo' hiatus, where I'll basically be putting entire blog on 'request only'— I'll prob keep lurking, likely keep posting About my blorbos, absolutely keep any threads, but... Gestures.

Tl;dr, because I'm not good about talking About feelings, and to try and talk about it would make me feel like I'm guilt tripping etc etc: I'm extremely low spoons, and about as low confidence, so I don't have the energy to be proactive and 100% initiate like... anything.

And it'd feel misleading to say 'oh I'm not on hiatus :)' as if I'm on full activity when I'm... not!

If you initiate stuff I'll return the favor and babble back, up to and including just asking me to do xyz (blorbo babbles, inbox raiding, etc)!!

(Edit/PS: As always my discord's available to moots, @/nethernor_i, but since I'll be lurking tumblr IMs also work as usual!!)

(Edit 8.4.24: Just to state the obvious for obvious's sake, again: PLEASE INITIATE/DM/ETC if you want anything!! When I say request only I mean it and so outside of that I'm gonna presume you're not keen on me / us doing anything.)

EDIT / UPDATE (8.7)

I said I wasn't gonna talk about the why's of my hiatus but I can't stop thinking about it and it's not not relevant to share even if it can't be helped so: that'll be below the cut since it's insecurity / vent / negative adjacent :')

Tl;dr, though: I don't feel comfortable here on tumblr anymore and that's what's impacting my activity / presence / confidence / etc, not just universally low spoons across the board. When I came back it was for sake networking for rp and making friends Through rp, but at current it's fizzled out and i'm much more comfortable focusing on private rp / rp groups than on here

(But if we have preexisting threads on here I won't drop them, juuuuust don't be afraid to add & poke me on discord to lmk when you've replied<3)

(again, this is below the cut for vent/negative/insecurity reasons, so if youre not up for that dwai) - any further Regular updates will be put above this section lol

idk I feel the simplest and most 'objective' way to put it is that my intent of 'keep dash tiny and small and palatable to prevent getting overwhelmed' is severely biting me in the ass bc it leads to extremely like... disproportionate? desires of activity??? where I'm looking to get lots of activity from (for example), like, ~5 people, but they are both not looking for turbo activity with me specifically and have interactions with 20+ people they're looking to keep up with (if, not necessarily, wrt longform rp) — on top of all the once-very-active moots that have dipped off into the void entirely, not just wrt ~our rp~

and like... subjectively??? i have like no sense of relationship decay, but exponentially horrific emotional permanence (the thing that lets you know you're cared about even when ppl are not directly talking to you or the like), and combined with the negative feedback loop of 'low confidence -> low activity -> less confidence bc less activity ->->' ???

it creates a very very Not Fun mix that makes me feel alone and lonely, like i'd be ignored even screaming in a crowded room, and feeling like what interactions i Do get are moreso an after thought or pity rather than reciprocated enthusiasm.

and its like. idk. it feels like law of diminishing returns but also w at least five secret spices of guilt about it—whether it's because i'm not 'trying hard enough' to 'earn' the 'attention', or because i'm 'blaming' ppl for the completely lighthearted nbd act of just... not making me a 'favorite' and making me feel 'entitled/spoiled' for just missing people

#mun babbles //

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nattousan · 1 year ago

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iirc u said you got a new job, what do you do for work now?

do you ever get anxious while working? fi so how do you cope/make the anxiety go away?

so because i have an art background and my sister recommended me, i'm a labtech at [CHAIN DENTURE MAKING STORE]! And, despite having no background in dentistry, they hired me because i have experience sculpting and making molds, as well as just having a generally amicable and teachable attitude. Its cool because a lot of the skills i developed making sculptures have translated very literally into my work making dentures! Which has allowed me a confidence that means that I actually don't experience any anxiety at work. It's like if you were a prolific smashbros player and nintendo suddenly asked you if you want to be a beta tester haha.

Also your timing is perfect anon bc while I don't personally have anxiety, my partner struggles heavily with it, to the point where they had to take medical leave from work. Idk if you already have a job or are looking but from observing them and my own experience, here's some general tips i can offer you:

- anxiety is a confidence killer, the endless fear and "what-ifs" can be paralyzing, seek out work that you know you can do good in, even if it's not your passion. I'll be honest i never thought about dentistry as a career but im using skills that i'm confident in and im allowing myself to ask questions when i don't know things bc thats what the trainers are there for.

- any sort of "i'm useless, i'm a burden, no one will hire me" self talk is literally your anxiety talking and is of the devil. don't listen to it. you gotta separate your anxious brain from your logical brain and assess uncritically what u bring to the table, are you good at organizing? can you work a spread sheet? do you find cleaning things soothing and satisfying? you gotta tailor your job search to your individual proclivities instead of applying to any random listing you see.

- if you already have a job thats giving you anxiety ask yourself two questions: what specifically about this job is giving me anxiety and can i do anything to avoid/correct it? maybe talk to a supervisor about your triggers and what youre feeling, if they're a good supervisor they'll try and work with you, if you get told to suck it up buttercup thats part of the job, welp, start looking for other places to work.

- PLEASE please PLEASE ask for help!!! at least in my partners case, they initially thought they had to go it alone and weather the job search process on their own but when i tell you there was a whole ass career center with COUNSELORS just waiting to help people find jobs, i'm not kidding! there are resources out there !! USE THEM!! YOU DESERVE TO BE HELPED!! check out your local community college or library to see if they have a career center! Mine does and it opened me up to several trade grants i didn't know about! THEY HAVE THE RESOURCES!! GO USE THEM!

- last and probably hardest for anxious people, you gotta find a way to stop giving a fuck about what people think of you! self confidence stems from within and when you're confident people can pick up on it and are more likely to trust you with things and hire you for things. Even if its a fake confidence! nothing has helped me more out in life is me just doing things because "eh, i got this, i'm sure it'll work out in the end" you gotta actively embrace failure as not a world ending event but a part of the process forward.

if you wanna send me another message about the specifics of your situation i'd be happy to tailor my advice but these are a few of the basics i guess. Like i said, I don't have anxiety but am very close to someone who does and hooboy i do not envy y'all. stay strong, soldier 🫡

#nat chats #anon #advice??#anxiety #og post

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decepti-thots · 1 year ago

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re: writing fandom meta and why there might be less of it recently - the fandom spaces I started out in ~15 years ago didn't have any meta, at least not in the way they have now, so the whole thing is comparably new to me. and then the meta I see always posts that seem to take SO MUCH of canon/background knowledge into account, so many things that I haven't even heard of. and there's so many posts criticizing (parts of) fanon and common fannish opinions, which I often understand, but which also feel a bit elitist and doesn't make me wanna try putting my thoughts on a piece of media into words just to get criticized. finally, I also don't know how to - last time I analyzed media was in school, and I was never good at it.

Thank you for this ask anon, first off! All of this is really interesting to hear, and a lot of it lines up with things people said in shorter responses directly on the post, so it looks like there's definitely some overlap in terms of common pain points in terms of this stuff. (And not just "pain" points, to be clear- folks also basically said that they preferred expressing their ideas through fiction, which is fair, and not really a thing that exists as something causing friction, per se, as much as an active enjoyment of fanfic as a way to express ideas.)

I hope you don't mind if I use this response as a launching point to give a few of my personal thoughts on this, because you so happened to bring some stuff up I kind of wanted to give a perspective on anyway. Not necessarily as a direct response in all regards, but it seems as good a place as any to touch on my own feelings? (Under a cut, feel free to skip this, if you do then thanks again for responding!)

The point you make about how meta wasn't much a thing in fandom spaces you were in 15 years ago is interesting, because one of the things I always think when I see the argument there's universally "less meta" now than there used to be is: does at least some of this stem from the folks saying(/bemoaning) this come from them being in different fannish spaces that the ones they're in now and not realising? It's a similar thing to when people confidently assert "people comment less on fics than they used to", where I can't help but wonder how much of that is just that the fandoms they are in today have different ways of engaging with fanwork, or different expectations, or that the fandom spaces they used to be in commented a lot relatively speaking. 15 years ago, I was in fandoms mostly based around LiveJournal communities, which were often assumed to be the obvious "centre" of fandom activity by folks in said communities. (Incorrectly; LJ only looked like the "main hub" of all online fannishness if it was where you and your fandoms mostly clustered, IME.) A lot of those were media fandoms (though not all) and those tended to have a lot of meta, I would argue at least in part because LJ as a "format" encouraged the posting of long, pre-mediated posts that lent itself well to folks wanting to write meta. But some other fandoms (a lot of anglophone animanga fandoms come to mind) tended to not have nearly as much because people were mostly engaging with them in places and communities where those things didn't line up in a way that encouraged it. The move to Tumblr and even Twitter as big fannish platforms where things work differently is then probably also of note, idk!

(Sidenote: the AO3 meta wars when it launched are probably worth mentioning, since the push to allow fannish nonfiction on AO3 was in part a result of Tumblr seeming like a very bad replacement for LJ when it came to posting essays!)

Anyway, a really common thing that seems to be cropping up is the "if I post an opinion as meta, it opens me up to [potentially virulent, potentially bad-faith] criticism, and that sounds unfun" fear. Which on the one hand is not necessarily untrue because I think even now fannish norms around meta are just a little different than other forms of fanworks, yes. Meta is usually seen as, on some level, an invitation to discussion in a way that e.g. fanfic often isn't. What I do think is interesting to think about here is it seems like there's not a lot of faith that there could be productive, even fun disagreement on specifics and readings. I'm not saying that wariness is necessarily wrong, to be clear. (I have been on the receiving end of plenty of virulent, bad faith "criticism" in my fannish life, haha. Or just... like... bad criticism that is tiring and unproductive and unnecessary, lol.) I mention it more because it seems worth explicitly saying that the assumption that being contradicted, corrected and/or argued with is an inherently unpleasant or even disciplinary way to experience fandom is one that seems to be pretty deep-rooted in fandom right now, and it seems worth pointing that underlying principle out.

To bring that back a little to the "platform shapes the fandom engagement" thing, I do think the way Tumblr works contributes to that. Reblogging to add additions has a very different impact that replying to someone else's static blogpost, and reblogging is (as people do keep pointing out on viral posts, haha) the primary encouraged form of interaction on this site. It's different in multiple ways; a person reblogging something often feels like they are talking about your ideas in the abstract and not by talking to you as a person which can encourage a very different tone and approach on their part and make their addition read very differently. And it also means that your post may not just be contradicted, but the contradiction may wind up being exposed to huge numbers of people as the default way of seeing your post and opinions. That makes the idea of being subject to that disagreement higher stakes, I feel, and also the idea of productive back-and-forth functionally impossible a lot of the time. (It also means having a full conversation often requires constantly spamming your followers, let alone multiple convos.)

So I fully get it. But I do also think it's a shame that it can be really hard to imagine fannish communities where disagreeing back and forth on different ideas about a canon or text is... fun? I guess? I sometimes find that stuff fun, is the thing! When done in a good faith way and an environment it works in. You wind up with all these interesting perspectives that may run very contrary to your own but still have interesting ideas in them, and sometimes you wind up with opportunities to expand on ideas you had but hadn't yet found a way to articulate them. I don't think that's going to be fun for EVERYONE but I think it's a shame that it seems so universally... terrifying, for a lot of people? Fandom is a very good place, if nothing else, to practice getting comfortable with low-stakes intellectual disagreement. (Because for most things, it really is low-stakes as hell.)

I do want to touch on the elitism comment though. I find that... a strange perspective tbh? It's true that doing analysis generally holds a baseline expectation of familiarity with the canon, but I can't really see how that can reasonably be called "elitist". Similarly I think there's a sense where someone will sometimes see people strongly dislike a thing they enjoy and feel the need to argue why that person is "wrong", such as when folks defend their fave fanon against folks who find it tiring/uninspired/etc. I think this post really sums my thoughts on that up, tbh. Sometimes what can kneejerk feel like a person passing judgement on you is actually them being a bit bitchy in their own space knowing full well they're talking about their own taste and nothing more. IDK.

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 1 year ago

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i dont really agree with your post about white people in fandom not talking about race, partly because i dont feel like online fandom discussions of these topics are particularly nuanced or productive in the first place and throwing white people who dont feel confident or educated in what theyre saying into the mix and are posting out of social obligation is the opposite of helpful, but mostly because of the inferences you made about the willingness/unwillingness those people have to learn. definitely some of them are uninterested in learning about the topic enough to discuss but ive known plenty of people who preferred to sit back in discussions of race where it wasnt vitally important that they speak up precisely because they were still actively working on unlearning racism/transphobia/etc and didnt want to say something that would hurt me or someone else they cared about by saying something careless, and i really dont see a reason to issue a blanket discouragement of this instinct that i would say most people who care have, especially just to get them to engage in something as inconsequential as fandom discourse.

oh yeah no i definitely agree! that post tho was more abt character analysis and metas and not like, discourse and drama. like basically it was the “if your interpretation of a character doesn’t consider that character’s race, your interpretation is incomplete” convo, i wasn’t trying to say “white fans should jump into every fandom discussion abt race ever.” bc yeah ur definitely right, sometimes it’s better to sit back and work on unlearning shit before we try to insert ourselves into certain conversations!

but also when it comes to the specific convo i was commenting on aka Character Analysis… i mean, white is a race. like, this is an ofmd blog, so i’m gonna relate this to ofmd: there is a LOT to dig into when it comes to whiteness in ofmd, imo most prominently with the main character (stede) and the main antagonist (izzy) but definitely in other characters and throughout the entire show itself. i see no reason why white ofmd fans should feel so insecure in their ability to discuss race that they won’t make surface-level observations abt how race effects the white characters. so that is the kind of situation where im rolling my eyes when fans say things like “i don’t want to overstep or make a mistake, so i just don’t talk abt race in X media ever.” which i HAVE seen, manyyyyy many times, over many years.

ngl it’s been kinda weird to see that kinda oldish post start randomly getting all these notes, but im glad at least that the version w my reblog is the one that’s circulating bc honestly that’s the only part of the post that really matters, imo. i mean, it matters bc it’s a much bigger point than just fandom stuff, it’s advice for pretty much. all of life.

you are allowed to move on and try to do better without everyone forgiving you for messing up! nobody is obligated to forgive you, ever, but that doesn’t mean you should give up on growing and learning! not everyone in the world is going to love you, and that’s okay!

^important stuff for pretty much everyone to learn, me included

#ask #anon #mine #txt #og #fandom crit #disclaimer also that i myself am white and have also fucked up before when talking abt race #i’m not trying to encourage all white fans to barge into every fandom convo abt race. altho ig i wasnt v clear abt that in the post #but yeah that post was abt a specific gripe i have when it comes to metas and stuff #not blanket statement rec for all white fans to do all the time

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fyodior · 1 year ago

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Do you have any advice on how to stop craving/seeking male validation so hard? Not to treat you like my private counselor, but you seem like you know your worth and have your life together in that regard. It’s not like I actively seek out relationships with different men, but it always feels like that’s my only purpose that I need to work on and that’s worth pursuing: Being as desirable and fuckable as possible, and that everything I do eventually revolves around men and their judgement. And besides that pressure, I feel like I barely even know myself or like I as a person am just a boring blank canvas.

It sucks.

baby first off im so sorry :((( i know this feeling so so well and its just. it sucks everything out of you

i spent so long feeling like i had to show up to every class dressed up with a full face of makeup and always tried to flirt and be mysterious and cute and when i “failed” to achieve that facade or the man didn’t reciprocate i’d go home and cry. id walk down the street and imagine how every single person i passed thought of me, and if i was hot. and to be completely honest, i just got fucking tired. its MISERABLE to live like that. it’s essentially just living your entire life through the view of anyone else but you, and even worse- through the scope of male validation.

its honestly something we’re socialized into and impossible to resolve overnight (if at all), but what i did was just commit myself to leading a less miserable life. i would do that by slowly working on just not… caring. just being very mindful of everything i did - when im going to put on an outfit, is it because i like it and makes me feel confident and comfy, or am i just wanting to seem the most fuckable in the room? am i genuinely not hungry or am i just scared to eat and seem less desirable in front of the men around me? am i going to this event/night out because i actually want to and know i’ll have fun, or is it just because men who might find me attractive will be there? mindfulness was absolutely the first step that helped me, and the most realistic too. because sometimes ur like yeah fuck you i am just going cuz there’s sexy men. but at least you’re making the step of being aware if that makes sense?

and from that awareness is when you can make the conscious decisions to reverse those actions. but you have to be aware that you’re doing them.

also notice how most all of those were “i” statements, because that’s how i work towards it, and it might not necessarily be what you need. i still struggle with it even tho im (mostly) a lesbian now. but its helped me :)

and the whole concept of “finding yourself” is a little bit bullshit to me like what does it even mean. people are so complex and fluid and weird and change their minds so often that to try to box yourself in feels like a wild goose chase. so don’t worry about that one if you don’t want to. to me, “finding yourself” means slowly piecing together the things/people/practices in life that bring you comfort, confidence, peace, and a sense of belonging. there’s not much else to find in my opinion

i don’t even have to know you to know you’re not a boring blank canvas because a person is never the canvas - they’re always the painter. life is the shitty blank canvas, and you slap whatever neon pink sparkly paint and glitter glue you want on there that’ll make you smile and make life a little more worth living.

#and that concludes therapy hour here on pussydrunkfyodor dot tumblr dot com #voices in my head #demons

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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years ago

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𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 | 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

Alright, heres my description! id like you to ship me with any male assassin from assassins creed! :) my name is Aia, i go by she/her, and i’m straight! For my body, i’m 5”2/158cm, and i weigh about 50-51 kg on average. i go to the gym a lot, so my build is pretty muscular, but i still look feminine overall. my shoulders are broad, but so are my hips so my body is like, balanced :) my legs are fairly muscular, and my arms are mostly just “toned” :) i have some abs, not that much tho 😭 my waist is also pretty tiny so thank god for the amazing genetics my face is kind of hard to describe so bare with me! i’m kurdish, so i have very strong individual features, but theyre all in harmony, and as a result im surprisingly pretty conventionally attractive despite my unconventional features. My eyes are big and round, and theyre kind of downturned. My nose is hooked. my lips are kind of thin, but not overly thin, and theyre kind of bow-shaped :). my eyebrows are thick and dark. my face shape is oval! my skintone is olive, but still fair! my hair is thick and dark brown, but it gets kind of golden in the sun :) my hair is to my collarbones, and i like to keep it straight, but it is naturally wavy. i have curtain bangs too :) my personality is also kind of difficult to describe 😩 im an introvert, im funny, im empathetic, im sensitive, im straightforward, and im stubborn. im an istp, 8w7 i think! im fairly confident, but im also very humble. im a pretty good listener and advice-giver, and i dont really sugarcoat things, but im not mean with my advice-giving either. i get drained SUPER easily around pretty much everyone, but the exceptions are the people who are closest to me - they never drain me, ever! im also very clumsy and airheaded, which is probably my least favorite thing about myself. im not talented, intelligent, or gifted whatsoever but im ambitious and hard-working, and whatever i want, i will achieve in some way or another. my hobbies! i love going to the gym, cooking, playing volleyball, painting, writing, and eating :p i dont like bugs, being unproductive, being surrounded by people a lot, being wrong, and dry people. i dont like parties or most outings either, id rather just stay home and do something i like doing. Thats all!! Thank you again, Kia! Im so excited to read your analysis!! – @gojohater101

I ship you with Jacob!

Jacob likes that you’re quiet and confident but humble – you help to balance him out and he wants to be a bit more like you in the humble sense from time to time. He really appreciates the advice you give him, even if in the moment it might seem like he’s just annoyed; he’ll always come back to you to apologise and tell you that he wasn’t really mad, he just felt a belittled in the moment but he understands that you’re just trying to look out for him. Your advice usually turns out to be what’s best anyway so these little quarrels don’t go very far in your relationship and he instead understands that, to talk to you, he needs to listen to what you have to say too.

Jacob admires your ambition and hard-working mentality a lot too. He wasn’t too bright growing up which isn’t too bad until you’re constantly being compared to your gifted-child twin sister at every waking moment. He likes that you work hard for what you want to do and when you set your sights on a goal, you’ll do whatever you can to attain it – he’s the same and so he wants to see you succeed by giving you whatever help he can offer and you will accept. He also really likes working out and playing volleyball with you! Jacob’s a pretty active guy and he can’t really sit still so he likes partaking in your hobbies with you! He doesn’t really understand when you get drained socially (the extrovert) but he respects it and will tone himself down when he can tell you just need time to unwind and recharge. He’ll usually watch you paint in this time or read a book while you write (by reading a book I, of course, mean he falls asleep with it on his face to block out any light that might disturb his nap). You keep him out of trouble like this too: he’s more likely to stay indoors with you then go out and get involved in something bad so he’s doing much better by staying with you like this.

♡ Jacob always makes sure that you have enough of the things that you need for when you want to take some time out and recharge. Because he doesn’t get this social drainage himself, he takes it even more seriously than you do oddly enough. He always makes sure that there’s enough pillows and blankets on the bed for you to be comfy (Evie’s shocked that you’ve managed to get him into the habit of making the bed), he tries to make sure your favourite foods and snacks are available, makes sure that you’re never running out of a particular colour of paint (once bought white paint in bulk bc he noticed how quickly it goes).

♡ He also knows exactly what it feels like when you’ve been working really hard but feel like you aren’t getting anywhere so he’s there to support you. He’ll hold you if you want to cry or take you somewhere to smash things if you wanna just let it all out. If you need advice, he’ll do what he can but will also consult Evie or Henry for their perspectives too.

♡ When you’re cuddling up together, Jacob typically likes to have your head on his chest with his hand giving you back rubs. He likes seeing how much darker your skin is compared to his when you’re so close like this: you make him think of summer time and warmth and you’re just so, so beautiful. He also adores the feeling of how thick your hair is between his fingers when he strokes your hair to feel you melt against his body even more. I can see him asking you for a lock of your hair to keep in some jewellery with him – a common courting practice in the Victorian era. He’ll tilt his head down just enough to kiss the top of your forehead before he continues to laze around with you like this.

♡ He likes to find ways to celebrate your achievements too. He never really had anyone to do the same for him until you came along and it was a feeling of such overwhelming joy to be congratulated and celebrated by you that he wants you to feel the same way. If you’re up for a gathering of friends and a night out, he’ll arrange that, if you just want it to be you and him going out, that’s good too, if you want to just stay at home to celebrate, he’ll even find a way of making that special. He wants you to know that your hard-work is noticed and wants you to know how celebrated you are and how much he looks up to you.

♡ Jacob’s never really been one for arts like painting or writing but he loves to watch you paint (has even sat posed for you before when you needed a reference) and he’s amazed by your writing! You can string words together in ways that he could never imagine and he’s always hooked on anything you let him get his hands on (which is otherwise out of character for him, not being much of a reader but he just gets so excited by knowing that you wrote this, this is your creation). He can see himself growing a lot as a person with you by his side and you always make his day, just by being around.

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me?∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

#⊹ ° . kia ships ˎ :

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witchboyjimin · 2 years ago

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Confidently waving at you below a mountain of tissues and heart medicine bc of your last ask :D

Also my prayer better work the fuck or else imma throw hands 😤 it does make me go shifty eyes over my sent asks tho haha. Until you answer, I'm always like you better not have lost this my dude @ Tumblr

ALSO NOT YOU SAYING YOU WANNA INVITE ME TO DINNER OMG NAV LMFAO. Smooth. Did make me giggle ngl. Also we have the option of me cooking because i am pretty decent I'd say. And all I have to watch out for are things that give me problems randomly in no pattern so we're good rip 💀 however, ordering in is also awesome so I'm game for anything. What do you usually love to order in or rather, if you could choose anything, what would it be?

I'm wrecking my brain over what part of ILHDYS I enjoy the most but hm. Maybe not choosing is the more elegant way out haha. Ngl the scene just before Jungkook leaves for the human town, their fight... That one's a good one. I love when a character sorta fucks up and hurts the other character's feelings jn the heat of the moment because it feels quite real and raw.

And omg Nav, i genuinely all jokes aside had my heart warm up upon your words of gratitude ♥️ i love that i could contribute to you getting more comfortable with your writing again and that you gained confidence back. I love love love to see it ♥️ and i will shamelessly continue to do so haha.

And i am so torn (sounds too harsh but can't think of a better word rn lol) over coming off anon, not necessarily bc I'm shy but writing messages on anon like this has a certain kind of magic to it. I have such a hard time putting into words what I'm trying to say here hahaha. But i will definitely consider 😊

Question(s): what fic trope do you enjoy reading the most? And what's your favourite pet name if you do have one? Seeing as there are different ones throughout your fics.

I'm sending you hugs upon love upon hugs (if you want ofc) back and hope you take care of yourself too. I was very happy to read on your main blog that you feel better ❤️❤️❤️ and if you're ever feeling down or like you'd want to talk to someone, I'm never far ☺️

.... also forehead kiss Nav- that is lethal hahaha

- cabin anon ✨

omg yeah keeping my fingers crossed your asks come through!!! >:0 be nice tumblr!

keke ofc i was going to invite you to dinner! oooh! do you have like a signature dish? or a fan favourite that friends/family request you make? but also rip to random foods that give you allergies >:( that's truly the worst when it is hard enough trying to eat. my fav thing to eat out is....[shame spiral] mcdonald's spicy chicken nuggets. no im joking (im not), my go to take out food is actually korean fried chicken. i think i eat it like...at least twice a month fkndk what about you!!! we gotta decide what we're gonna eat at out dinner.

I ALSO LOVE WHEN A CHARACTER FUCKS UP AND THEN THE OTHER PERSON'S FEELINGS ARE HURT!!!!!!!! it's DELICIOUS! and then you just get to sit there and nibble on the anguish. it's especially nice if you, as the reader, know character who got their feelings hurt likes/loves character who hurt their feelings. good shit.

i mean it! i've been writing down my feelings more these days so i can process them/figure out mental blocks and i legit wrote "cabin anon enjoys your fic and that's enough" because i can really get in my head about being good enough which is also so dumb because i'm very lucky that so many kind people enjoy my fic. but it really means a lot to have someone like support me in this way so i really wanted to let you know how much i appreciate it and how much it's helped! i make a much more active effort to write these days. and it's 100% okay if you don't want to come off anon! whatever makes you happiest and most comfortable -3- no pressure from me. i am happy to talk to you like this and if you did come off anon, i would love to talk to you that way too!

my fav fic trope is definitely hurt/comfort. i think i love reading it because....i love getting my feelings hurt and then receiving the comfort fgjfndk but honestly when a fic hurts just right, i can like feel it in my chest and the ache will travel all the way down to my hands and it's just SO GOOD! if we get more specific, i love (as we discussed) when person a goes feral when person b gets hurt and also...guy who is insane and evil and mean but not to his love interest.

fav pet name for jimin is 100% kitten >:) i don't get to use it enough but i will change that! also love it when jk calls jimin princess. but i think in general for fic, i'm a sucker for baby/babe. you can never go wrong with a classic. i do love endearments/pet names a LOT tho! so i also love little bird/dove, love, darling, etc etc.

please tell me what you like for both questions too THANK-YOU!

keke well you were being so kind and wonderful and physical touch is my love language -3- i hope you have a great day cabin anonie ✨!! and that things are going well. i'm also here if you ever need to get anything off your mind! cheering for you!!! 💛💛💛

#cabin anonie ✨#replies

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years ago

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Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

#måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin #damiano david imagine #damiano david #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

Text

hole in the wall

In a party for the ages, Shouto comes across a room with hole in the wall that has him coming back for more.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, PWP, cult activity, drug mention, alcohol consumption, glory hole, cursing, degradation, praise, possessive jealous!shouto, stuck in the wall, spanking, overstim, bruising, bleeding, breeding

word count: 7,831

a/n: read the fucking warnings bro, im tired, I hate formatting, here’s to finally writing what I wanna write! also, this is for a lovely bnharem collab that kept getting pushed back... make sure to read the intro to understand my story! anyways, gloryholes is peak anonymous sex and I just,,, if thats the only way imma get to suck shoutos cock, I will. I had something else to say... I forgot. oH THIS IS WRITTEN IN A NEW STLYE-ISH??? porn from shoutos pov!!!

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Traditionally, when people think of the connection between heroes and cults, they expect that the heroes eradicate the cults, not that the heroes are a part of a cult.

It was somewhat ironic that a group of people who advocated for public safety, for the wellbeing of every citizen of the country - the world - would demand compensation in areas that didn't involve financial compensation. Heroes saved the day countless amounts of times, but when they needed... help at night because they've been so busy saving the world, there needed to be compensation.

It had shocked nearly everyone within the hero community when none other than Yaoyorozu Momo brought them a solution. For nothing more than loyalty to saving the day, all heroes granted the benefit of joining the Savior of Eight Million, an… organization brought forth by the prodigious hero. It had shocked the hero community at first that the once thought of a modern-day princess, putting together a wicked group that served the beastly needs of heroes, was almost laughable. But as time passed, as trials tested the organization (cult), the more heroes realized how lucky they were that it was Yaoyorozu who created this.

The Yaoyorozus, in all their riches and connections, made this group untouchable.

Police were bought off, apprehended, silenced.

Heroes with the savior complex were put down.

Villains were never believed.

The Savior of Eight Million held ties with the greatest, the most esteemed people in the world. The parties were unworldly, dripping with diamonds and gold, the sweet smell of champagne barely drowning out the bitter acidic and burning plastic smell of the drugs used vicariously at their gatherings. All heroes joined, politicians and celebrities fought to get in, and commoners wished they could be the servants of the night, whether that meant they would be serving food, drinks, or drugs, or allowing the heroes to do what this was all started for: to fuck them.

Of course, it didn't help that each commoner was paid for their service, discretion, and loyalty. Those who attempted to give away the secrets of the nights were always taken care of, and every gathering after someone tried to snitch, there was always a complaint that a sex slave just wasn't good enough.

Yaoyorozu Momo was a sweet girl, a helpful woman. She was a hero.

Heroes far and wide grovel at her feet in thanks, and even more surprisingly, even her old class supported this. Oh, how great life was when you were the most significant, greatest, and most untouchable cult in history.

To Todoroki Shouto, well, he didn't really have an opinion on this all, not really at least.

The cult - the organization, was created to help out heroes such as himself live comfortably while having such a busy lifestyle. His sex drive had never been that high, with his twenty-fifth birthday approaching, he could count on his two hands the number of times he'd been attended to with the help of the organization within the past five years.

Yes, two years after debuting as heroes, Momo had approached the graduate class with her plan. Todoroki Shouto could never deny a friend, especially not someone as smart and intentional as Yaoyorozu Momo. He had been one of the first - if not the first - voice to approve of her project.

However, the fifth-anniversary gathering (it was not a party) was finally here. Two months ago, the first round of reminders came around in the form of a beautifully handwritten card by their fearless yet kind leader. Shouto wondered if she really had handwritten each and every card, or if she had created it with her quirk - while he wasn't that heavily involved, he was not ignorant to the numbers of the cult, group, organization.

TO TODOROKI SHOUTO,

I WRITE THIS LETTER TO ASK IF YOU WILL BE JOINING US IN TWO MONTHS FOR ONE OF THE MANY GREATEST CELEBRATIONS WE - THE MEMBERS OF THE SAVIOR OF EIGHT MILLION - WILL HAVE FOR OUR FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF BEING SUCH A WELL RECEIVED AND INFLUENTIAL ORGANIZATION. I AM GRATEFUL TO RELAY THAT OUR ESTEEMED MEMBERS BAKUGOU-SAN AND MIDORIYA-SAN WILL BE HOSTING OUR EVENT!

I FEEL AS IF WE HAVE NOT SEEN EACH OTHER IN SO LONG, TODOROKI-SAN, AND I MISS YOU SO DEARLY. I HOPE THINGS IN YOUR LIFE HAVE BEEN FINE AND THAT WE SHOULD MEET UP AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! PLEASE MAKE SURE TO RESPOND TO THE RSVP TO EITHER JIROU-SAN, KAMINARI-SAN, OR ME!

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN, YAOYOROZU MOMO

The letter had been kind, inviting, and so fleeting it made Shouto feel like he needed more from one of his most missed and trusted friend. Still, there would be time to catch up with everyone, no use in pushing now.

Grabbing his phone, Shouto typed in Momo's contact name into the search bar, tongue swiping his lower lip while he typed in his message and sent it. He had never been one for these parties. Too often, there were just too over-the-top. The festivities and friends were fun, but having to fight the impossible crowds for a moment of peace kept him from attending.

A truly mundane member.

But this was different after all, it wasn't every day that they celebrated five great years of service.

I'll be going, Yayorozu.

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Two months went by before Shouto had even realized it.

In those two months, he had received a formal invitation with a day and time.

2X28, OCTOBER 23

STARTING FROM 20:00

Of course, the lack of an address is a precaution for keeping their organization out of the limelight should they be betrayed. Events of all shapes and sizes were always planned by the upper board of the organization. Only a specific few knew the place where the night would befall, and the rest of the members would be brought to the festivities by a chauffeur provided by the Yaoyorozu's. Getting to and from the party was always stressfree, no matter what befell that night, their safety of getting home was still safe.

The invitation was tucked away into the inside pocket of his jacket, it was his ticket to getting into the party, and it was best to not leave it behind.

With the invitation now securely placed into his jacket, the smooth inflexible material stiff against his chest, Shouto stared into the mirror he stood before.

An elegant full-length mirror reflected his image to him, and truth be told, he was impressed with his presentation.

A charcoal grey Italian suit trimmed glinting silver nearly gleamed against the white light; the jacket was undone, exposing the white-collared long-sleeved shirt underneath. Typically, Shouto was a tie man, but the sleek black tie he was to wear lay hanging on the hanger, the first few buttons of the shirt undone. It highlighted his toned chest, the few pale scars on his chest just visible enough on his exposed skin to look like it was intensional. He looked good.

His fingers touched his hair, the once long style had been cut in a recent fight with a villain. It hadn't mattered much to Shouto, and in fact, the sudden haircut had spiked his overall ratings. It was short now, just long enough for his fingers to graze through the locks. It was slicked back, the swirl of red and white mixing and strands of red falling into his sight.

“Todoroki-sama, the car is here.”

Shouto didn't bother turning to the attendee, his gaze taking him in one last time.

"I'll be there."

His footsteps were quiet in the hallway, his waxed shiny black shoes gleaming in his hands as he walked to the front room. He slipped on the tight shoes and looked up to his servant, who stood at the front door with a patterned, black mask.

Nodding, he grabbed the mask and slipped it inside of his jacket as well.

A kitsune.

"Safe journey."

"I'll be back tonight."

And into the car, he went, the warm smell of leather and spices filling the backseat of the self-driving car. Shouto relaxed against the black leather, his eyes staring at the road while he slipped the mask out from his jacket. There was no reason to don the mask while stepping out of the house, being caught with it at his home always smelled trouble.

In the car's silence, his fingers rested onto his lap, his lips set into a firm line while his thoughts lingered to what was to come at this party.

The last time Bakugou and Midoriya hosted anything, it had ended with an overall disaster. Thankfully then it had been for their agency's founding party and not something dealing with the organization. But before he could muster the will to seek out further information on the private event, he realized that the car was already pulling into the large mansion where the event was being held.

People emerged from the cars before his own, the sleek masks donning on their faces, keeping their identities from unwanted eyes. The covers were specially made by none other than Yaoyorozu with the assistance of Hatsume Mei to ensure that those who wore it would be unrecognizable unless they were within a certain radius.

A small puff of air escaped Shouto's lips as his car pulled up to the unloading zone, and his strong fingers slipped on the mask before the car door opened. With the confidence and power, only those who worked as a top-ranked hero had Shouto emerged from the car immediately greeted by the entrance staff.

With his hands moving to button his jacket, he nodded his head when receiving information on what to expect upon entering. Shouto felt like he nodded forever while making his way up the entrance of the event, his hand reluctantly offering his phone and wallet over and receiving a ticket for retrieving it. Of course, the ticket came the bundle of condoms.

An eyebrow arched under the mask, and Shouto couldn't help the amused smirk that befell his lips as he pocketed the condoms.

The fuckers made this a sex party.

Why they even bothered to deny that they were a cult was beyond him at this point.

But as the grand doors opened, Shouto couldn't help but tense at the room's mixing aroma.

The sweet smell of champagne bubbled in his nose, wafting in powerfully with the perfumes secreting from every person in the room. If it had been his first time at an event like this, Shouto would have missed the undertone of burning plastic in the air. His eyes followed a civilian dressed up in a zebra zentai bodysuit holding a silver powder with most definitely not cocaine to who looked like the Prime Minister since he had his mask on.

Rolling his eyes, Shouto walked further into the room, ignoring the offers of drugs and alcohol as he carried on.

"Todoroki, my man! You made it!" came the loud and energetic voice of Kaminari Denki.

It shouldn't have shocked Shouto to immediately be swarmed with who looked like Kirishima (who wore a mask resembling a bear) and Kaminari (who had his mouse resembling mask resting on around his neck), who by the smell at least, were not sober.

"You're the last one to show up, dude! We almost thought you were gonna flake!" Kirishima added, his hand coming to land on Shouto's shoulder, his lips perked into a broad smile. "Everyone else decided to join the orgy room a few minutes ago, but this guy here—" he made a pointed jab at Kaminari's chest. "Was causing a large enough disturbance that we were kicked out."

"Bro, it's not my fault that those dummy civilians can't handle a few jolts of pain!"

"You literally electrocuted everyone in that orgy and left everyone unable to speak for a solid minute, bro!"

"Everyone else is here?" Shouto interrupted rather impressed to here that even Mineta was invited to this party - or maybe he had snuck in - choosing to ignore the mention of an orgy room.

Typical cult things, he reminded himself.

"Yeah, Denki and I don't have to go in tomorrow, so we pre-gamed at his place before coming. Sero did too, but after a few minutes of talking with some trapeze girl, they went into a room and well…" Kirishima trailed off, letting Shouto put two and two together. "Mina is flirting with the crown prince, Yaomomo and Jirou are in the orgy room, Bakugou and Midoriya seem to be micromanaging everything—"

"Those two need sex the most out of the entire class! Have you ever seen a bigger work pole up anyone's asses than in those two?!" Kaminari groaned, his fingers roughly rubbing the skin of his face, and Shouto laughed softly in agreement. It was somewhat ironic that their virgin classmates were the ones who organized and put together a sex party.

"I can't begin to imagine Midoriya having sex. Although that man is basically becoming sex on legs," Kaminari continued to gripe, Shouto grunting softly in thanks when Kirishima handed him a cup filled to the near brim with a copper liquid that burned smoothly down his throat. Shouto grimaced as he managed to down the entire thing. "I can see Bakugou just blowing a hole into the wall and fucking it and considering that sex. Ain't nobody normal who can — OH MY GOD!"

Shouto looked at his friend with nearing annoyance; however, the alcohol already taking a humming effect over his body made the annoyance slip easily.

"Bro, you're gonna get us kicked out of this party, and that's gonna be the shittiest thing!" Kirishima groaned while Kaminari spazzed with what seemed to be the biggest lightbulb of an idea.

"The hoes — the holes! For the glory!" Kaminari slurred with how fast he was speaking, his hands fisting into both Shouto's and Kirishima's jackets, his yellow eyes burning bright in his excitement.

Shouto tried to keep his annoyance down, and the itch to rip Kaminari's iron grip from his shoulder.

"I don't know what you're talking about—" Kirishima tried again, his hand resting on Kaminari's ribcage to steady him.

"Ei, the gloryholes!"

Gloryholes?

Shouto numbing mind searched the banks of his memory to figure out where that word came from and why it sounded vaguely familiar.

"Oh, fuck," came Kirishima's strained approval, and Shouto looked at his two friends who were grinning pervertedly at each other.

"What's that?" Shouto asked, his lips buzzing slightly as the alcohol was fully absorbed into his bloodstream, and somehow the smell of sex filled his nose, and the noises of unadulterated carnal lust filled his ears.

"Oh man, Todoroki, if you don't know," Kaminari trailed off, his lips pinched into an elfish smirk, and electricity coming off his hair in his evident excitement. "Just trust me, you gotta experience this shit!"

Shouto wasn't sure if it was the alcohol that thrummed merrily in his veins or the knowing glint in his friend's eyes that whispered to him to find out just what it was, but he felt his head nod without his full awareness. The feeling of their hands on his upper shoulder felt fuzzy as they took him away, intent heavy in every step they took.

He could barely take in the passing rooms as they went, the aerial artists, the sex rooms, the orgy rooms. There were so many rooms designated for just about every kink imaginable that even the stoic Shouto felt his cheeks flaring in embarrassment. With each passing step and opened room, the smell of sex, pheromones, and lust grew in Shouto's nose; the more the sticky sweet moans and screams of the cult members clung to his skin.

For a hero that was never too hot or too cold without his own ministrations, his skin was feeling feverishly hot with cold feet when they finally stopped in front of the only closed door in the hallway.

"Welcome!" came a cheery voice, Shouto blinked, and a woman appeared from nowhere.

She wore a powder blue ava tea dress; it was elegant, sleek, yet too old-school for an event such as this one. Shouto immediately assumed that she was not partaking in the sexual activities, but was instead acting as a hostess of sorts.

"Just you three patrons tonight?" she asked, her head tilting to the side and Kirishima speaking up in agreement for the group of three. "Good, good. We do have enough openings for the three of you, most people haven't found our little… hole in the wall, if you would," she took a moment to giggle joyfully, her gloved fingers pressing to her ruby red lips and Shouto fought the urge to walk away. "So please, feel free to look around and stay as long as you want!"

Her words were light and breezy, but still, there was rising suspicion and tension in Shouto's spine at her small quip.

With an innocuous smile and a glint in her eyes, she opened the door with a gentle, "have fun," and Shouto's friends ushered him in.

His initial reaction? What. The. Fuck?!

The room they entered was large and spacious, or well, at the very least, Shouto assumed it would have been if it wasn't for the obviously installed maze of walls. But with every wall, there was a collage of pictures. Faces of women, men, humans, mutants, everything you could think of plastered above a hole. Curiously enough, the images above one hole were of the same person.

His eyes swept the room, and he saw a few spots already taken, men with their pants and underwear dropped to their knees pressing up against the wall so that their noses were smushed to the makeshift walls.

Shouto blinked.

Gloryholes? Pictures of random people?

Were they fucking ghosts?

"This is paradise!" Kaminari groaned in pleasure, his arms spacing out as if he had come with fantastic news. "These normies always look at you so weirdly when you fuck at orgies, here… you get the nut and don't have to have them staring at you!"

Paradise?!

Shouto stared as his electricity wielding friend approached a hole that adorned photos of a girl with hooded eyes and a tongue piercing. He dropped his bottoms before sticking his hardening cock into the waiting hole with two raps of his fist. At this point, Shouto wasn't sure if what he had drunk was actually alcohol now.

"These aren't dead people, are they?" Shouto couldn't keep himself from asking, his palms sweating while Kirishima laughed deeply in his chest.

"Not at all, man, it's real people, I promise! Pick your hole and have fun!" Kirishima encouraged, placing a solid pat on Shouto's shoulder before approaching a hole with a picture of a girl with bright eyes and a bright smile.

Nodding numbly to himself at this point, Shouto meandered the different walls, his eyes absorbing the various pictures on the walls.

But he fell on the spot with a picture so vivating that drew him in. The chasms of your eyes defiant yet shy, a smile that called him in, and lips that looked supple and strong.

He stood no chance in defying the itching, burning need to follow suit of every other person in this room. Shouto approached the hole, his fingers pulling at his belt, quickly lowering his charcoal grey slacks and black boxer briefs. He stared into your pictured eyes, mesmerized by them, and grasped onto his hardening cock.

A soft shudder invaded his skin as he pressed his cock through the awaiting hole, the skin of his heated cock scraping against the hole, making him strangle a grunt in his throat. But when the wet heat of your mouth enveloped his cock past the hole in the wall, Shouto's face nearly crashed against the wall.

Shouto wasn't sure what to have expected, but he had summed up that this was some over-glorified handjob, a vigorous clumsy jackoff he could have done himself. But he did not expect, in any sense of what this was, to be met with warm, wet lips and a tongue that pressed underneath the head of his cock.

A guttural noise slipped past his lips, and Shouto's palms pressed against the wall, his head spinning dizzyingly from the sensation.

Shouto's breathing was erratic, his cock hardening more, twitching within your mouth as he felt your head begin to bob against his length at a slow, leisurely pace.

His hips thrust toward the wall, his vision spinning from what this heightened sensation of what he always thought to be a mundane act. Shouto's slacks were too far up his thighs; however, the fabric spread to his max despite his attempt to lower down. He wanted to get closer to the wall, get whoever you were past this wall to take in his entire cock without an issue, so mindlessly, instinctively, he shoved the slacks further down, grunting with relieved pleasure at being able to spread out further, at getting closer to you.

"Holy shit," Shouto grunted, his forehead pressing against the cold wall, undoubtedly crinkling the paper of your photos. His hips came forward, hitting the wall dividing him and you with low, vibrating thuds, and you let him, allowed him to keep his rutting hips at the pace they were. You took him in as if it was nothing, the smooth skin of your lips gliding against his throbbing length, your tongue running alongside the bottom of his cock, tracing the veins of his skin, twisting against the sensitive skin, providing new sensations and shivers.

Shouto knew immediately that you were letting him fuck your mouth however he saw fit.

He felt you moan around him, a long, deep, undeniable noise that somehow drifted through the hole, vibrated against his cock, and could be felt against his curling toes. The sound and sensations were proving to be effective, a pooling heat building in his balls, simmering up and down his spine and neck. How he wished to grab you by the back of your head and drive his cock down your throat without mercy.

Snarling in the back of his throat, suddenly fueled by the image of fucking you, the thought of you on your knees, tears built in your bright eyes and tears rolling down your cheeks feeding him. And as if you knew what he wanted, Shouto's knees near bucked out when your mouth took him in even further, the soft choking noise, the feeling of his cock pressing against the back of your throat sending his fingers digging into the wall.

He drilled in faster, grateful for your ability to keep up, the feeling of his cock pressing down the back of your throat sending his jaw flying open, curses and praises spilling past his lips with every inch you took him further down your throat. The area of his cock unable to be taken in your mouth was surrounded by your fingers — by god, what fucking fingers you had — warm and robust, they held his skin, sliding effortlessly against the spit lubricated skin.

"You can hear me right, whore?" Shouto growled against the wall, the hot air of his breath almost fogging the area he was standing in. Somehow, he heard the choked noise of agreement, the bobbing head vigorously nodding, sending you into a sputtering choke from the awkward angle. But Shouto liked hearing you choke, liked hearing the needy tone in your whining agreement, and he swore he was feeling his heartbeat in his balls. "You're not here entirely on your own will, are you? Came here for money, to suck some rich mans' cock?" His hips stammered when you sucked your cheeks in around his length, his eyes rolling in the break of his concentration, his blood pumping in his hormone pumped euphoria. "I want you to fucking choke on my cock, you hear that? Take me all the way in, don't be scared, I know you probably don't see much cock, but I promise if you can handle me, you'll never want other cock, slut. Take me all, and I promise you, you won't regret it."

A hiccuped breath came from your side of the wall, and Shouto almost wanted to simply burn the wall down to claim you for all his need and glory, someone with a mouth as gifted as yours definitely needed to be fucked correctly. Still, his hips reigned down, slamming against the wall so that the thuds of his impeding hips were heard softly in the other areas.

And you? Behind the wall?

He could feel the weight of your head pressing forward, the feeling of his length sliding further and further down your throat. The pulsing of his cock ridiculously stilled with the restrained muscles of your throat, and the almost excessive drool and spit that dripped from his length with your choking movements.

More, he wanted more, he needed more.

"Fuck, slut, you're taking me so fucking well. You almost have me entirely in your mouth," Shouto growled, an inch or so of his cock still not entirely in your mouth, but not letting your tight fist work his cock. "Don't give up, take me all, I know a whore like you who shows up to be a sex slave can take my cock."

A whine (was that a horny or a frustrated whine?) emitted from the wall, and with a strained noise, Shouto felt your wet, hot lips make contact with the base of his cock as he continued to drill into you. Spluttering groans poured from his throat, the feeling of your hot cavern and resisting throat, sending him over the edge.

"Yes," Shouto gasped, the smell of sex, electricity, and barely burning walls simmering in his nose. "Fuck, yes, just like that."

Shouto could feel his nerves being shot out, the feeling of the compliant mouth keeping him pumping into the hole, his fingers digging further and further into the wall into it cracked and crumbled, his grip trying to keep his shaking legs from giving out, to break through the wall to get to you. He was almost there, so close, but needed to get over the hill. And then Shouto was swallowed completely when his slamming his stopped, he could feel your lip press to his skin hidden by the hole. He had no doubt that it must have been sorely uncomfortable for you, yet you were doing it to the point where he was fumbling for words, fumbling to keep his head on straight as your tongue wrapped around his cock, massaging the skin. Fuck, fuck, "Fuck!"

His head dropped back with the shooting electricity in his blood, sweat dripping from his temple and you, the stranger behind the wall, gave one vicious, strong suck, your mouth only surrounding the head of his cock, your wet tongue flicking the slit on his head, and he was spilling over.

Hot, thick, heavy ropes of white cum spurted from his cock and Shouto shuddered, his shaking breath echoing in his ears, and he could still feel your tongue moving, coaxing out the finality of his orgasm, teeth scraping against his sensitive cock just enough to have him seeing stars.

But the giggle that erupted in your throat was well noticed by Shouto, and he grunted in slight annoyance. Pulling away, a soft, almost unwanted pop echoed on the other side of the wall.

Shouto watched as his spit and cum covered cock pulled back to his side of the wall, and he grunted unwillingly. His forehead still rested against the wall, and he looked up to his left side with a disgruntled noise to see that he did, in fact, scorch his fingertips into the wall.

As he tucked himself back into his underwear and slacks, Shouto's blissed-out eyes fell onto the hole where your hand was perched out of it, your pinky the only finger visible.

"Pinky promise you'll come back later?" your raspy voice asked, and Shouto wondered if that was how you usually sounded or if it was from what happened.

"As long as you promise to do something like that again," Shouto smirked, his pink taking yours anyways.

He could promise that to the hole in the wall.

Shouto slips out the door and is immediately greeted with a bummed out Kaminari and a profusely apologizing Kirishima. He later finds out that Kaminari let out yet another round of voltage of electricity (he's banned from fucking anyone that can't absorb his quirk without damaging themselves), and that Kirishima in his blissed-out state accidentally went into his unbreakable mode and tore a hole into the wall. Shouto didn't bother telling them of the scorched walls and left with his friends.

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It only felt like a few minutes before Shouto found himself outside the same closed door of the room with gloryholes. The alcohol had long since been burned from his system, he is practically positive that you managed to suck it out from his bloodstream.

For the past two hours, he had been around the mansion, aiding Kirishima in his objective to keep Kaminari from accidentally killing a sexual partner. It had been for the best, Shouto believed. He was no prude and definitely didn't hate indulging in the occasional orgies - especially at parties like this. But for some reason, as strangers attempted to shed him from his clothes, lips, and fingers roaming his scarred, heated skin, he thought of you and only you.

Your tantalizing mouth and fingers.

He had exited the orgy room faster than All Might at his peak.

He was strangely obsessed with a stranger, a person who was no more than someone past a hole in the wall. Who knew if your picture was what you looked like, but he sure hoped it was.

But when Mina had appeared out of nowhere, her perfectly manicured fingers pressing against Kirishima's chest as she emerged from behind him. She was, obviously, one of the few easily discernable members of the cult.

"So, the crown prince does not know how to use his dick, and I am disappointed in men all over again!" Mina pouted, but her usual sly grin was back on her face before Shouto could ask if she needed help scouting potential 'dick appointments' as she so fondly calls them.

This was where things got strange in that Kirishima pointed out that Mina should just fuck a woman to teach men how to fuck women properly. Kaminari filled Shouto in with a horribly done stage whisper that the two of them had fucked before and that despite the experience of any man, Mina was never truly satisfied.

"Alright, student Kirishima," Mina had thrust her finger into Kirishima's chest. "Follow me to the hole-y wall and watch the master do her job!"

Once more, Shouto was outside the door, the woman seemingly materialized from thin air in her same powder blue ava tea party dress and ruby red smile.

"Welcome back! For four patrons this time?" the woman gleefully smiled, her gloved fingers clasping below her chin.

"For one, actually," Mina spoke up first, "I'm teaching these boys—"

"I've actually never had a problem," Shouto spoke up, his calm and collected gaze unwaveringly met the hostess despite the chilling horror and embarrassment of his words that crawled up his spine. At the same time, Mina looked up him and down with a small, small smirk. "I'll be taking a spot."

"Ho ho, well, excuse me," Mina giggled, turning back to the hostess with a brightness to her stance. "Two spots then. I have boys to teach!"

"Of course!" the hostess spoke unaffectedly by the group's dynamics. "Please enjoy yourselves! This part is a special treat for you lovely patrons, don't forget to be mindful of our poor angels stuck in the wall!"

The door opened, and in the group of four walked in.

If Shouto had been taken by surprise the first time, he was beyond belief the second time he entered this same room. His first time coming, there had only been those beautiful glory holes, but this time? There were no material holes.

Where the holes used to be, there were only large holes where the person assigned to the area was now presented to the public.

Asses curved to the sky, asses pointed to the ground. Cocks leaking, limp, and red with overstimulation, cunts soaked, throbbing, and swollen with overuse. It was indeed as if these individuals had been stuck in a wall, and Shouto already felt his cock twitch in his carnal lust and need to see just how you were positioned. How he prayed that you were at your spot, laying on your stomach, ass hanging out to the world waiting for his cock to claim you, waiting for him to ruin you. He wanted to feel your liquid lust drip from your cunt, splashing and trailing down your inner thigh.

Shouto didn't bother saying goodbye to his friends, the smell of sex, and his own lust switching his brain onto a one-track mindset with the growing need to get to you immediately.

And almost to his raging hormonal anger, he came to the aisle where you were parked, and while his heart hammered with the growing pleasure to see your ass hanging in the air, your thighs pressed to the wall, his vision turned red at the sight of some no-named man rutting his ugly cock between your dry folds.

In no time flat, Shouto was behind the man, his hand fisting into the collar of the man's shirt and tearing him away from him.

"Mine." he all but growled, his aura darkening while he glared at the red-faced idiot who attempted to cover himself up in the act of running away.

It didn't matter that what Shouto did was probably entirely rude and could result in him getting thrown out, you were his, and no way was someone going to fuck you when he was there. The weirded out gazes that fell upon him temporarily did nothing to Shouto, his focus back onto your squirming bottom, no doubt weirded out by the sudden lack of contact.

But with a sigh, his fingers combing the few falling free strands of hair out of his face, Shouto stood centimeters from your shifting thighs, watching you continue squirming until he finally moved. His hands pressed against your supple, smooth ass, enjoying the way you fit against his hands perfectly.

He stepped forward, allowing the bulge of his strained cock to press against the top of your ass — the perfect height for him. Shouto leaned forward, his forehead once more pressing against the cold wall, his eyes taking in the still visible scorch marks he had left behind and chuckled deep in his throat.

"I'm back, my precious whore, I bet you missed me," Shouto spoke through the wall, hoping that you would respond back to him. He thought he could hear an agreeing sound on the other side of the wall, another layer of muffled, and he wondered if maybe you had been gagged. The thought made him exhale slowly, his hips strained from rutting against you, but against his belief, your ass ground against his hardening cock, sending waves of pleasure through him. "You did miss me, huh?"

His calloused fingers moved from your supple ass to the outsides of your thighs, feather-soft touches skimming your skin, leaving behind trails of goosebumps and twitching nerves. Shouto's gaze remained hard on your body, watching how you completely stilled when he found his fingers against the inner part of your thigh and just shy of the excessive heat that was radiating from your cunt.

And he leaned down, his lips pressing against the curve of your ass, his eyes partially hooded when he felt you relax against his hold. But the relaxed position you held quickly erased the moment his teeth sunk into your skin, and his finger pressed against your swollen clit.

Immediately, your body arched, a weak attempt to buck out of his hold while he heard a muffled cry from the other end of the wall. But Shouto was a hero, he was some with extreme control over his body, and as his tongue moved to soothe your throbbing ass, one finger continued to delicately dance against your clit, while the other shifted over to your softly beating cunt.

Shouto groaned against your skin, his pants feeling too tight, the material of his underwear too hot and stiff for how strained his cock was right now, yet it was nothing to the feeling of your tight, wet, hot cunt. In and out, he pumped his finger, curling the long digit against your puffy spongey walls, the thumb on your clit circulating in slow, intentional figure-eights until you were pathetically rising and falling against his finger, a garbled whine for more barely audible through the wall. He chuckled at the feeling of your inner walls forcible clenching against his intruding finger, and he rewarded you with a second finger.

"Doesn't this feel good?" Shouto groaned, his body straightening back up so that he was flushed against your ass, his forehead resting on the wall, and his now free hand slowly grinding your ass against his crotch.

He watched you with the intensity of a predator stalking their prey, his mouth twitching into a smirk when your toes curled with a sudden drag of his fingers over a ribbed area of your core. Growling in need, Shouto's hips slammed into you, mindlessly fucking you even with his clothes on. His fingers doubled in speed and intensity until the rapid clenching of your walls was unignorable around his fingers.

His forearms ached slightly with his continued fingering, his thumb almost stiff as he continued to assault your clit, but with the arching of your back, the stuttering of your hips as an impeding orgasm was growing bigger and stronger. Shouto barely registered the sight of his own hand rising and falling heavily onto your ass, the sound of the spank echoing loudly, but that had pushed you over the edge.

A loud mewl sounded from the wall, your legs trembling entirely uncontrollably against Shouto, who still drove his hard crotch into your soaked cunt. He didn't care if you were to wet the expensive suit, his mind now solely on the fact that he needs to claim you, needs to sink his cock all the way in, and make sure you were bruised for days to come.

Wasting no time, Shouto sheds off his pants and his underwear, letting them fall to the floor with a soft thud before aligning his already hard and swollen cock head to your clenching, sopping cunt. Shouto nearly shivers as he grips his fingers into your ass, his eyes mesmerized with how your flesh molds to his grasp, moving and shifting accordingly. With only a moan as a warning, Shouto wasted no time in pressing his cock to your cunt, and thrusting in with a single, sharp thrust.

If he had thought your cunt was tight with just your fingers, if he had thought the instance where you had vacuumed your mouth while sucking him off was tight, he was in a world of surprises when he came through from entering you. Your cunt was hot and oh so fucking tight around him, milking him dry of all and any precum that he had gathered at his swollen slit. Your inner walls flutter around him, intensely and quickly trying to adjust to the monstrous thickness that he was, and he could hear the pained panting pleasure of you through the wall, and he almost lost it at the keen whine on your tongue.

He shifted, moving his hips just so slight as to regain what little sanity he had left to ensure that you were thoroughly and roughly fucked.

"Fuck," Shouto moaned, his fingers digging bruises into your skin, his skin feeling sticky and sweaty as he felt you continue trembling beneath him. "For a fucking whore, you have a really tight cunt. I bet you wished I had used fucking lube, huh?"

Shouto took a tentative thrust into you, his legs quivering at the feeling of the way your cunt gripped his cock, making it almost impossible for him to move as he did. "Should've made your pussy wetter then," he spoke in a near whisper to the wall, unsure if you had heard him as he began his conquest in fucking you.

With his fingers gripping your hips, he enjoys the way you bruise against his hold, almost as much as he enjoys the way the wall rocks with every slam of his brutal hips.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping cunt send loud, wet noises ringing in his ears, sending a few other nearby patrons to turn their heads to look at him - to look at him in his conquest of claiming you as his. It only fueled him on, and he picked up his pace until there was a medley of sounds: his thighs crashing against your ass, the squelching of your wet cunt against his thick cock, and your thighs slapping the wall.

Shouto growled at the feeling of your cunt stretching for him, the tremble of your legs, the way your feet twisted and curled against his knees, almost as if in a silent beg to get him impossibly closer, to make him fuck you impossibly faster, harder.

His gorging fingers break your skin, and Shouto delights in the painful, garbled scream from your side of the wall. Your body is weak against him, yet he can still feel your hips jutting against his rutting hips, your body desperately trying to keep up with his insane speed and lust.

And when his hand presses to your lower back and the other right above your crotch so that he can raise you higher, the new angle of penetration sends Shouto fumbling for strength. It's then he can feel the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, your toes digging into his skin as he continues to pound away at your cervix, and he takes the rolling shrieks and moans from your mouth like a good thing.

"Such a good fucking whore, I never found many of you who enjoyed when I literally rearranged their guts," Shouto huffed, his fingers tweaking and yanking at your clit until you were shaking in his arms. "You're enjoying this so much, I bet you wanted this the entire time after I left, didn't you? You wanted my cock in your pussy, I wanted to have my seed pumped into you until everyone knows that you're mine. You'd look so pretty pregnant with my babies, your stomach swollen, and your tits just fucking leaking milk for our children, huh?"

It's then that your cunt around his cock becomes a vice grip, and Shouto shudders at the feeling of your orgasm rocking through you, your pathetic keens barely audible in his blood rushing ears. And he continues, Shouto could feel the familiar sensation of his nerves being shot out, the feeling of your cunt desperately trying to milk him of his seed and worth as you grew limper in his arms, his fingers raking raised lines against your ass, forever marking himself against you, his grip trying to keep his shaking legs from giving out, his mind solidifying over the need to somehow appear where you were now so he could fuck you with no restraint. He thought of your crossed eye gaze, the possible spit pouring from your mouth as you took his every drop of seed greedily into your cunt. He imagined seeing your eyes spilling with tears, seeing your fingers rip into the fabric as he fucked you with no restraint, and with his imagination, he lost himself.

Shouto continued to blindly ram his cock into your cunt, a savage, insane last attempt to spill himself into you, fumbling to keep his head on straight as your cunt pathetically clenched against his hammering cock, finally sending his left hand to the wall, fire bursting from his palm as finally his orgasm tears through him. Shit, shit, "Shit!"

Shouto's temples are damp with sweat, and his vision swims with his overwhelming desire for you and the need to get to your room without destroying the wall to completion.

He picks up his pants and underwear, quickly fixing himself up so that he's almost remorse in the way that he can't appreciate watching his cum spill from your cunt, but the lack of you on his cock is enough to have him zipping up his pants and racing to where the hostess appears.

She doesn't stand a chance when both fire and ice bite against her neck.

"How do I get into the rooms?"

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

After being caught flirting with whoever you had pinky promised, you had been gagged. It wasn't a bad thing per se, that man had been the last person to visit you when the room was still functioning as glory holes. With the new stuck in the wall theme, it only invited men and women to be aggressive, and a part of you guiltily and ashamedly enjoyed how rough they would get in there attempt to hear you against the gag.

But you couldn't help the flutter in your cunt and in your heart when the familiar voice of the pinky promise man sounded through the wall. Right now, however, your body felt wholly and thoroughly used. Every inch of your asscheeks and cunt was abused, but the orgasm that came with his fucking was otherwordly.

There was still nothing to prevent the shameful clog in your throat when he abandoned you after a single orgasm, but then again, you didn't expect the door to your cubicle to be thrown open, and a man stood there with a black kitsune mask. You wondered who it was, but there was the distinctive, infamous red and split white hair behind the cover, and you whimpered at the sudden shame at being caught like this by a Pro Hero you absolutely adored.

The mask was torn from his face, the door closing behind him, and you were ripped back into the tight cubicle, pressed flush against his chest as he sealed off the hole with his ice. You were speechless as his obviously hard cock pressed against your diaphragm, and you trembled upon hearing the zipper of his pants coming down.

And the voice of one Todoroki Shouto sent shivers down your spine, reigniting the flame in your cunt.

"I got to fuck your mouth and your cunt through other people's rules, I think it's about time I get to fuck you however I see fit."

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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cdroloisms · 3 years ago

Note

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao)

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

#tw trauma #tw death #tw blood #tw injury #tw torture #tw abuse #tw starvation #prison arc #pandora's vault #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks

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