#I didn't even realize how long we'd been following each other! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatfandomslut · 3 months

Text

I Want To Marry You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: description of making out, extra fluffy

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Regina George w/ quote 57 with chocolate number 7. Or: "You don't marry someone you can live with, you marry the person you cannot live without." w/ falling in love

Valentine's / Followers Celebration requests are closed.

(Y/n)'s chest heaved, some hair from her bun slipping out and in front of her eyes. She and Regina had just pushed their beds together and they were now admiring their work. This was their second semester as college roommates, and they were rarely apart from each other. Even during their breaks, they called on FaceTime every day at some point. Everyone on campus knew they were together, except (Y/n) and Regina. Their tight-knit friend group deemed it to be a tragedy that it was taking them this long to realize their feelings for each other. They were beginning to wonder if they needed to help them or not. Instead, they just waited for the girls to finally realize their feelings themselves.

"Now we just have to put the full mattress on the bed." (Y/n) wiped the sweat from their brow. They went halfsies on a storage unit for the two twin mattresses that the college gave them. They knew they would have to return it to bed at the end of the semester, but that wasn't for months. For now, they stood together, wondering why they felt like this was the best idea given how much work it was becoming. They still needed to move their desks to the opposite side of the room and then pile the mattresses in the U-Haul they had gotten. "Are you ready, babe?"

The 'babe' would've thrown Regina off if (Y/n) didn't call everyone babe. It still did cause a tingle to shoot through her spine as she held the mattress onto the bed. "Perfect," Regina commented as she pulled out the sheets they had picked out together. "You know, we should get married," Regina said absentmindedly as she tossed (Y/n) her corners for the fitted sheet. The words caused (Y/n) to freeze for a moment as she thought about the right words to say. Regina, on the other hand, did not realize the depth in her words.

(Y/n) bit back a smile before she looked over at Regina, fixing the sheet to where there were no creases. "Why is that? Are you just that in love with me?" (Y/n) asked cheekily. As cheeky as she was, she was genuinely curious about what Regina had to say about how felt about her. She was hoping that this was the moment that she would hear the words that she had always wanted to hear come from Regina. Her fingers twitched as she reached for her pillow to put on the bed before they put on the final cover, staring at Regina expectantly.

Regina was now beginning to realize how deep her words had met when she had also frozen momentarily over (Y/n)'s initial question. "Well, I think the way we live together is amazing, nothing would have to change. We already have each other's schedules memorized. We have the U-Haul and the storage unit. Why not also just get married?" Regina teased lightly, trying to stop her heart from beating as quickly as it was.

(Y/n) turned on the fan she had over on her side of the bed before she laid down in thought. The other side of the mattress dipped, letting her know that Regina had joined her side. Their hands grazed together before they turned to look at each other. "You don't marry someone you can live with, you marry the person you cannot live without." (Y/n) told her softly. She had been falling in love with Regina since last semester, but the idea of Regina only wanting to marry her because they lived together well didn't sit right with her. Then again, why was she overthinking this? They weren't even dating.

Regina's eyes flickered to (Y/n)'s lips for a moment as she pursed her own. "I know, but… I want to marry you." She whispered, now making sure she put the depth in her sentence. "Obviously, we'd have to date first, but I want to do that, too. What you said is right because I can't live without you. I have loved you since Christmas, right before last semester." Regina told her, causing (Y/n)'s lips to part slightly in shock. She wasn't expecting any of those words to come out of Regina.

"I feel the same way, Regina." She said softly. They weren't sure who initiated the kiss, just that their lips were now crashing together as they ruined the sheets they had just made. But neither of them cared about that as their hands tried to find a place on each other's bodies. As they pulled away, they both adorned swollen lips and giant smiles. "I have been falling for you since last semester. I just never could imagine that you felt the same way. You're just… You're perfect, Regina."

"What's going on in here?" Their friend's voice could be heard as they entered the dorm. The door had been opened, so they couldn't exactly fault Sasha for ruining their moment. Instead, they watched Sasha's eyes widen. Regina laughed a bit, covering her mouth as (Y/n)'s face turned a deep shade of red. "I did not mean to interrupt. I'm very sorry, I should've knocked on the wall. We were just wondering if you two wanted to join us for dinner. Do you want me to tell the others that you two are busy?"

Regina stood up as she fixed herself. Looking over at (Y/n), she nodded softly. "Yeah, we have a date we need to get to. It's long overdue. But thank you for the invite, Sash." She said softly, watching Sasha leave with a wink. "What do you say for going somewhere special after we drop off the mattresses?" She questioned softly, glancing over at (Y/n) with a sly smirk on her pink lips.

(Y/n) grinned widely, standing up to kiss Regina another quick kiss. "Let me shower first, and then for sure." Regina watched (Y/n) leave the room with a giant grin, happy that she and (Y/n) finally got together. All it took was them putting a bed together to realize that they liked each other.

#regina george x reader #regina george #mean girls x reader #mean girls

369 notes · View notes

sugamehhq · 6 months

Text

"I'm Sorry. / For what?"

[Johnny’s POV]

When he asked me to talk to him while he showered, I was slightly confused. Given, he hadn't said it verbally, I still followed like a dog on a leash. I've learned when it's hard for him to speak his mind, he lets me in, tells me without letting it out for anyone else to hear. Him not being surprised I followed gave me the reassurance I wasn't just hearing things. It was strange, today, that is. I've been watching him closely the past few days, all of which progressively got more and more worrying. He seemed dissociated, like nothing he did was registering in his mind. Of course, I've tried to talk to him about it, but he dismissed my concern. He's a closed guy when it comes to himself, I don't mind that, but I itch to know what's on his mind. The times he lets me in, tells me things he wouldn't say out loud, it's quiet. Way too quiet. For someone who appears confused and detached from reality, his mind is silent. It scares me.

It took him ten minutes to even get the shower going. I sat silently, waiting for him to ask for help, but he didn't. Not even mentally. His hands gripped the marble counter, his head hung low, he looked tired and lost. I wanted to help, I really did, but he never let me. I mean sure, he's been vulnerable around me, but he's never actually searched for my comfort, my aid. He feels it's just pity, something he can't rely on, he's afraid to try. I get it, really. I respect his way of doing things. That's why I sat there, only moving when he asked for my help, which never came.

Behind the curtain I sat, silent, trying to think of something to say. What made it hard was my want to confront him about his empty mind. It bothered me. A soft and confused call of my name took my attention before I could accidentally speak my mind.

I talked about the last movie I watched. A few hours prior to him entering my humble abode, I had watched a movie, nothing special, but interesting enough for me to pick apart and describe, to give him something to think about in that desolate mind of his.

Usually his showers are short and to the point. I hadn't realized how long we'd been sitting there until I finished summarizing every scene of the movie I could remember.

At some point, he stopped responding. I was unaware, having been caught up in overanalyzing each scene, explaining every detail I could. I gently spoke, his name leaving my lips like a question I didn't know the answer to. It felt like time stopped, like I was unable to proceed, to know if he's even alive in there. My hand reached for the curtain slowly, to offer my hand.

There was no response to any of my actions. The splattering of the water raining from the shower head spoke back, not him. There was a change in how it landed on the floor. I called for him one more time, begging for a response.

Every time he gets in my head, it catches me off guard. What I heard wasn't exactly clear, but I heard enough to respond. I had asked him through my thoughts if he needed my help. For the first time in days, he said yes. Nothing more was said, and frankly nothing more needed to be said. I stood from my spot behind the curtain and stepped to the other side.

I'm not fond of wet clothing sticking to my skin, but for him, I'm willing to put my comfort aside.

The shower was a lot smaller than I'd like, given I had just moved into this new place, had to find something new after losing it all right? I started saving up to get this bathroom redone, maybe get a fancier shower, but that's besides the point.

The water had turned cold, and he just stood there, hugging himself. Admittedly, it was strange, but who am I to judge.

I asked him what he needed help with, what I could do for him, but he didn't respond. His face said enough.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do or what to say to him. My hand moved on its own in a poor attempt to shield him from the cold of the shower, hovering just barely over his shoulder. He didn't move. It felt awkward, I won't lie.

The moment his face contorted, pain making itself known, I brought him towards me. He was tense against my shoulder, his hands clinging to his arms. I still never had my answer to what this was about, he never told me. I know he's in some sort of pain, but how am I supposed to help when I don't even know what's bothering him? Was it his eyes? Does he just have a horrible headache? Is it-

My thoughts stopped the second he entered my mind. Everything I was thinking was shoved out, his thoughts pouring in. I felt my body tense as I heard everything. There was no clear answer. For once his mind was louder than mine.

In my own way, I would call it a headache, but maybe that's because my head began to pound trying to understand what was wrong.

I tried to break through the mess with my own loud thoughts, fortunately they were louder than his. The battle in our shared mind continued, but his arms relaxed enough to wrap around my shoulders.

At some point I'd lost control of what to do, my body just kind of planted there for him to seek comfort in. This part began to blur together for me. The only part that made it through was the fact that I had started crying. My body didn't move, and yet my eyes cried. I didn't get it, I wish I didn't get it.

My eyes cried the tears he couldn't.

He shared his thoughts with me, how he felt, so I could cry for him.

What a horrible thing to be aware of.

I remember his body shaking against mine, how he sounded like he was the one crying, but he wasn't.

It was a strange connection, yet disconnection. His tears, my eyes. It was wild, to say the least.

Having touched my face in response to these tears, I leaned forward just enough to turn the shower off. It gave way to the sound of his shallow breaths. My hand returned to him, to provide warmth after being pelted with the cold for way too long.

I wanted to get him out of there, to give him clothes to dress himself, but he didn't move when I tried. Pulling him slightly in any direction blurred my eyes with more tears. I took that as his way of telling me to just stay there with him, to not leave him by himself. Losing contact with me was the last thing he needed at that point in time.

If you asked me how long we stood there, I wouldn't be able to give you a time. My legs were numb from not moving, and his skin was relatively dry. The shaking against my chest had stopped, but the pain of racing thoughts was still in the back of my mind. The first word he said out loud after entering this room was a raspy, "sorry," before he cleared his throat.

It hurt to hear him say that. There was no reason for it, yet he still felt the need to say it. I hated that.

He hesitantly let go of me, hands going to find their way back to his own arms. Before he could hug himself, I took his hands, his fingers ever so slightly shaking as if he was trying to hide it.

He kept his face angled down, avoiding my eyes. He hated it when I stared at him, especially in times like this. It always felt like pity to him. Even if he couldn't see my face, he could always feel it, my gaze.

My thumbs brushed over his tattooed knuckles. I tried to tell him there was no need for apologies, no reason to hide anything, he was allowed to be vulnerable here, as much as he hates it.

I watched his lip twitch before my sight was clouded again with his tears. I had assumed he kept doing this to show he appreciated my words without actually telling me. To let me know how he felt since it's so hard to tell me himself. Yet at the same time, that's exactly what he was apologizing for. For telling me, showing me, how he felt.

It became clear when he pulled away from my grasp, uttering a quiet "sorry," once more.

He stepped out of the shower and into the main area of the bathroom, quickly finding the clothes he left on the counter. Once dressed, he held his hand out for me to take. I took it, of course, and allowed him to lead me to my bedroom.

I don't know why he did it, but with little time in between actions, he grabbed Sento and began searching for clothes in my closet. I completely forgot about my clothes being damp until he placed the newly found clothes on the bed and told me to strip. Instinctively I wanted to make a joke out of it, but reading the room made me aware that wasn't the right response.

He turned his back to me, gently placing Sento on the stand I had for it on the dresser. I wanted to question him, to ask if he was alright, but instead I kept it to myself and followed his orders.

Now newly dressed, I found myself behind him, my arms snaking around his waist. He flinched slightly at the sudden contact, but found himself melting into it as always.

What bothered me about it was the fact he didn't smile.

He always smiled when I did that.

My own smile faded as quick as it had appeared.

His hand pinched the bridge of his nose, almost in frustration it seemed. I opened my mouth to question, but he spoke first.

"I'm sorry," was all he said.

Again with this horrid word.

I wished he'd stop saying it.

There was no need for such a phrase.

"For what," is all I replied.

I wanted to let him talk on his own, to not bombard him with my concerns, of which he knew I had.

It took him a few minutes before finally telling me the truth.

Finally I had an answer.

And finally, I knew how to help him.

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

There is no full context, it's up for interpretation :)) Just wanted to write something between these two and this happened.

Avoiding the use of their names was a style choice!

Hopefully you enjoyed :))

#mk1 #johnshi #mortal kombat 1 #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #johnny x kenshi #kencage #sugameh's fic archive #short story #they drive me insane

55 notes · View notes

alwaysjustmina · 8 months

Note

I beg; soft kisses turning heated - Just follow me lead - RainDrop -🌧️

I know this has been awhile, but I hope this ficlet suffices!

Have you?

"Have you ever been in love before?"

He asked me this on our third date. We were sitting at a little street cafe, the sun was just setting, we both had a glass of wine in front of us and were debating if we were hungry or not. He had this beautiful little twinkle in his blue eyes, a small smile playing in his lips. I wanted to say, I may be now, instead I responded with a no and dropped my eyes from his down to the table. I grabbed my wine and took a small sip, looking at him over the rim of my glass, trying to calm my nerves.

His face had broken into a large grin, that he was unsuccessfully trying to hide behind his glass. I wondered why that made him happy.

"Have you?" I asked with more determination than I thought possible.

He quickly responded the same as I did.

Later I'd learn he wanted to say the same thing I wanted to, but we were both cowards.

After we finished our wine we decided to take a walk along the river, watching the dying rays of the sun glint off the surface. He stopped to point out a small boat that had fairy lights all around it. Laughing that it looked fun and we should do something like sometime. We both leaned over the rail, our arms outstretched above the water, leaning close but not touching. We hadn't done that yet. I could feel the heat of his body radiating into mine as we stood there, I hadn't realized how cool it had gotten with the sun doing its disappearing act. Of course he noticed.

"Do you want my jacket?" He asked.

I trembled at the thought of being embraced in his warmth, even if it was just his jacket. I nodded quickly, "As long as you won't get cold."

He shrugged his jacket off and assured me he wouldn't. Later, I'd also find out it turned him on to think of his scent all over me.

He helped me into the jacket, the smell of leather and patchouli seeping into my pores. A small moan escaped my mouth that I quickly covered with a cough at the warmth it provided.

He, of course, noticed but didn't say anything. We stood there a few more minutes before deciding to continue walking.

I listened to him talk about everything and anything. I didn't know how we had so much to talk about, we had known each other for years. Secretly pining for the other it seemed, but both terrified we'd fuck this or the friendship we had built up.

I noticed so many things about him on this walk that I never saw before. The way he wrinkled his nose as he smiled, that his hands always were moving, he couldn't keep them still, that he matched his step to mine, that he licked his lips when he talked, that he looked at me like I was the only thing in the universe. On this walk, he became my universe.

I would steal glances at him, finding that he was looking at me the whole time.

We stopped again on a back street, we had veered from the river in search of food, being called to the quiet side streets away from the revelers. The scent of roses hung heavy in the air as I turned to look at him, asking what he was hungry for. We were in a darkened part of the street with only the moon above throwing off light, his features were alabaster in the glow. "Beautiful," I mumbled under my breath.

He looked at me, tilting his head up and smiled that beautiful smile again. We both took a deep breath, before we both started.

"Rain, I want to kiss you."

"Dew, can I kiss you?"

We laughed, both wanting the same thing.

That first kiss was so soft. His lips found my, the lightest touch before we pulled back. Looking again at each other, before he grabbed my waist and pulled me into him again, my hands flying to his hair, our mouths crashing together. The softness of the first kiss leading to the passion of the second. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth as he emitted little trills, his tongue asked for entrance by sliding between my lips, I quickly opened for him. The explosion of the feeling of his tongue in my mouth, mine wrapping around his, both of us gasping for breath, neither wanting to let go.

We stood there wrapped in the other's arms, neither of us sure of how long the passage of time had gone. He pulled away first, I teased him about this for years after, his lips red and puffy, his pupils enlarged, the blue barely visible.

He leaned into my ear as we panted trying to find our breath again, before whispering in my ear, "Rain, ask me again if I've ever been in love."

All I could think was, me too.

#first kiss #new love #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ghost fan fiction #fan fiction #soft boys #mina answers #mina prompts #mina writes

24 notes · View notes

pastelbatfandoms · 26 days

Text

Black looks good on you (One Shot)

A/N: This came to mind once I got a dr memory after seeing him at the met gala. My man looked so hot and he's been wanting me to write about us. The book mentioned at the end is actually one he recommended via a channeling.

Warnings: Smut, gentle Dom.

"Damn you look so good sweetheart." Sebastian said, biting his lips as he looked me over.

I grinned back, "So do you..." I wasn't lying, Sebastian looked the hottest I've ever seen him (not that he wasn't attractive on a daily basis) in his all black sleek outfit.

I matched except my top was cropped as was my jacket with it's floral cuffs. My dark hair in a stylish bob with chin length bangs framing my face.

I looked at us in the mirror as we admired one another or ourselves not sure which to be honest. "The Matrix called it said to keep the outfits because we look damn good in them." I joked, smirking.

Sebastian let out a laugh at that, "Yes we do." He agreed, "Now we should really be going." He told me taking my hand.

Ah yes we couldn't be late to The Met Gala of all things, I rolled my eyes playfully, as we walked out of our house and to our BMW. But we were celebrities it was kind of our job to go to events, give fans a break from everything going on in the world and be well entertainment.

Aside from posing for photos our time was spent trying not to be all over each other, like I said we looked good and it had been awhile since we'd been together like this. Seb being busy with his latest movie and me writing the script for another one.

It was nice to not be all work and no play for once. As we sat together in the plush red seats of the auditorium I noticed Sebastian kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye, probably cause I was doing the same thing. He noticed me look him over and smirked, placing a hand on my knee.

I tried not to squirm as Seb ran a hand up my thigh as he leaned in and said low in my ear, "I can't wait to take you home and have my way with you Kitten."

My insides felt like a thousand butterflies were fighting to break free and I shivered when he gripped my thigh at my pet name.

The time couldn't go fast enough, finally the event was over and Sebastian could take me home like he promised.

We drove back home, his hand never leaving my legs once we were in the car. But he didn't let me touch him, tease...I could tell by his grin that he was enjoying watching me squirm...

Once we were in our stucco built luxury home, I couldn't keep my hands or lips off him. Sebastian grabbed me to him, murmuring between kisses, "Someone's eager. But I'm not letting you rush this." He said emphasizing by gripping my ass.

Then abruptly let me go, as he walked down the hall. Confused I looked at him. Sebastian looked over at me with a dark smirk, "Well are you coming Pet?"

My eyes lit up as I realized Sebastian was obviously in Dom mode tonight. "Yes sir."

"Good girl." Sebastian gave a nod and crooked his finger for me to follow him as he walked away, disappearing into one of the rooms we used for just our entertainment.

As we got into the expansive room Sebastian sat on the long leather couch, leaning back as he spread his legs, a power move. Gesturing for me to kneel down and crawl to him.

I did as he wanted, I would rather have pleasure than punishment tonight. But first I stripped out of my outfit for the evening, Sebastian stopped me when I started to take my pants off. "Keep those on. Now C'mere."

Once I reached him, I looked up at him as he slowly took his sunglasses off those blue eyes piercing into mine as he stared down at me. "You are so beautiful." He whispered. Softly gripping my chin as he leaned down to kiss me.

I almost melted right there as he ran one of his large hands through my hair and down the side of my face, once the kiss ended Sebastian murmured low in my ear, "Do you know how much I wanted you? I really wanted to just take you right then, make you suck me off in front of everyone..."

I looked at him in surprise at that, was he serious?

Sebastian's look told me he was, "Oh yes. It's a good thing I have self control. Now on the other hand..." Sebastian took one of my hands guiding it to his crotch as I felt him already hard inside his pants. I started to rub him but he put a hand over mine, "Slowly. Take your time, I do not want to ruin these pants." He warned with a look.

I did as he said as I rubbed him slowly, it was Sebastian's turn to squirm, his head back, he stopped me then, unzipping his pants as he took his cock out. I licked my lips as I saw how hard he was, precum already making his cock glisten.

Sebastian looked down at me then his eyes dark with lust, telling me with his eyes what he wanted me to do. "Well?"

I lowered my lips onto him then as I felt Sebastian take in a sharp breath as he hissed at the first contact of my mouth on him. "Shit Babygirl that's it. See how bad I've been wanting you?"

I moaned in agreement as he pushed my head further down, wanting me deeper but still slow. As I licked him with my tongue and started to suck harder, my hand messaging him as well.

Sebastian gripped my hair as he moaned out, letting himself get lost in the feeling then pulling me off him when I deep throated him. "Fuck Kitten what did I say about going slow? I don't want to cum yet." His eyes darkened in warning then, "Not unless it's in you." Was it a promise or a threat? I wasn't so sure.

He cupped the sides of my face then bringing me up to him as he kissed me long and deep, his tongue darting into my mouth as he kissed me more harshly and then slowly. Licking my lips when he was done. "Mmm damn your amazing. I love you."

"I love you too Sir." I replied my voice barely above a whisper, laced with want.

Sebastian gave me a small smile, "C'mere Baby." He pulled me up to straddle him then as he kissed me deeply once more, swatting my ass when I moved purposefully onto his still hard cock. "Did I say you could do that?"

I shook my head, "No sir, I'm sorry." Sebastian raised an eyebrow at me but said, "Good. I'll let it go this time. But..." Sebastian trailed off as he ran a thumb over my lips, then quickly picked me up off him and setting me on the couch, stood up immediately behind me.

I gasped as he pulled me up so I was on all fours with him behind me. Sebastian grabbed the waistband of my pants as he pulled them and my lace black underwear down, slowly running his hands down my body, gripping my bare ass, then giving it one sharp slap as I tried not to react.

Sebastian grabbed me by the hair then pulling my head back as he leaned over me growling in my ear, "Oh Kitten I need to hear you or this is going to go all night." Sebastian smirked licking my neck, "If that didn't work, what about this?"

With that Sebastian ran a finger up into my folds already feeling how wet I was, knowing I was ready, he pushed himself into me as deep as he could go.

I moaned out, sub space already taking me over, as I closed my eyes at the feeling of him inside me.

Then suddenly the feeling was gone as he removed himself. I started to whine in protest but regretted it when Sebastian smacked my backside harshly again, clamping a hand over my mouth, "Ah no protesting. The only sounds out of that mouth should be pleasure...or pain. I'll be right back."

I waited, fully exposed and a bit nervous but I didn't need to be once Sebastian came back, not with any punishment tools not really.

I shivered as he attached leather bound handcuffs to my wrists pulling my arms behind my back. "Good girl. Now you can't go anywhere. Now where were we...oh yes making sure you know who owns you. Now make sure I hear you, if not I can always make you..."

I bit my lip I knew what he meant by that, Sebastian was down for anything and he could make it very pleasurable or painful, it all depended on me or his mood. Tonight it was about both of us.

Sebastian pushed back into me this time it was a bit harsher than before as he was purposefully trying to get me to scream for him. I did as he sped up, grasping my wrists as he fucked me harder. "That's it I knew you had it in you..."

Sebastian leaned over still moving inside me, his cock unbelievably hard as I moaned out, he kissed me slow and sensual, running a hand up to rest on my neck, the other hand gripping my breasts as he drove into me over and over again, slower this time wanting me to feel all of him.

"Shit Babygirl you feel so good." He groaned around my lips.

"So do you sir." My eyes hazy as I looked at him, subspace taking me over completely as I let him has his way with me.

Sebastian gave me a loving look as he lightly squeezed my neck, giving me lighter kisses. "Are you ready for me to cum Kitten?"

"Yes cum in me sir please."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at that, knowing I'd want anything in the moment. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." I nodded, I was on the pill and couldn't get accidentally pregnant anyway.

Sebastian smiled at that, "Alright. but you first." Sebastian ran his other hand down me, rubbing my clit softly knowing I loved when he lightly played with me, as he gripped my neck tighter.

I cried out then as he drove into me harder and faster as I came around him shaking and Seb found his release soon after as I felt him warm inside me.

Moments later as we got our breaths and came down from the high, he slid out of me with a groan. "Fuck that was amazing."

"More than." I agreed happily as he undid the cuffs.

"You did great sweetheart." Sebastian praised me, "C'mere." As he sat on the couch and wrapped his arms around me as I lay on him still naked.

"I love you Seb." I murmured smiling as he kissed the top of my head.

"I love you too Shelle." Sebastian replied with a content smile of his own. "Now are you up for a movie or do you want me to read to you?" He asked.

I thought about it then decided, "read to me?"

"Which book?" Sebastian asked looking down at me as he rubbed my back.

"Love Hypothesis." Mentioning the contemporary romance book by Ali Hazelwood that was based on Reylo Fanfic.

Sebastian smiled at my answer, "Of course." Knowing it reminded me a bit of our relationship without the dramatics.

Sebastian got up to get the book and also came back with a blanket as we settled in for the night.

#Fame dr #sebastian stan #“Fanfiction”#dr memories #Smut #desired reality #dr self #reality shifting

7 notes · View notes

ryeriy · 8 months

Text

masterpiece

warnings: carving with knives (pumpkin carving)

navigation post

"Why are there pumpkins on the table?" Adam asked while walking over. "Because I bought them," I said. I was sitting in the living room watching TV. "Well obviously. But why did you buy them?" He asked. "For decor." He let out a laugh. "You realize pumpkins can't be house decor, right? They're gonna rot!" He exclaimed at me while laughing. He thinks I'm that dumb. "You seriously think I'm that dumb?" I got up from the kitchen to find Adam staring at the two pumpkins I had bought. Staring at what to do with them. "Well, of course not." He said. "Well maybe you shouldn't underestimate me then!" I exclaimed at him while laughing.

I'm a sophomore at Ohio State University. Adam recently got drafted to the Bluejackets this year. It worked out perfectly for us. I was already going to school here and he now works here. We'd been dating before I went to college. We started dating right before our freshman year of college. I was originally going to go to Michigan but Ohio had a better program for what I wanted to do than Michigan. Now that he's here it's better. Adam only moved here a few months ago. When I found out he got drafted to Columbus of course, I offered him to come live with me in my apartment. He'd been only living with me for a few months now but I've tried to make the most of it by making him feel welcomed. So having pumpkins to carve is a start. Especially with his season starting soon. I want to have some fun with him before we both get busy.

"We're going to carve them, dumbie," I said while grabbing the two knives I bought to carve the pumpkins. "This is going to get real messy then," Adam said while looking at me and letting out a laugh. "Well, I didn't think about that okay Albert Einstein," I said. We both couldn't stop laughing at each other. At this rate, the pumpkins would just become decor. We both pulled out our phones going onto Google and Pinterest. Searching for ideas of what to do. I decided on a basic Hello Kitty design while Adam chose the classic jack-o-lantern look.

Now, was the messy part. We both took off the top of the pumpkin. Adam went over to one of the cabinets and grabbed a big bowl. "We can put the guts in here." He said. Placing down the bowl in between the two of us. We both started to take out the guts and throw them into the bowl. "There's so much!" It felt like it was never going to end with the amount that was coming out. "Have you ever carved a pumpkin?" Adam said jokingly while laughing. "When I was little!" I laughed back at him. By now we were almost done with the guts and removing the seeds. "Are you almost done?" He asks. "Yeah, are you?" I asked back. "Mhmhm." He said back while taking the last few guts he had left out of the pumpkin.

The two of us started carving after twenty minutes. It took us so long to take out the guts. Too long. We both went in different directions on how we carved them. He was going the classic way, and I'm trying something harder. I think it's going to look cute though. Adam's is almost done and I'm not far behind him. I only had a few more things to do but he had to do less. "What are you even making?" I laugh for a moment. "It's hello kitty!" "Oh, now I see it! Sort of?" He said jokingly. "Oh my god, stop that!" I said while laughing as I playfully softly pushed him.

Both of us continued to finish up our pumpkins we were getting ready to put the candle inside to glow it up. "Yours doesn't look too bad. It's cute." Adam said as he placed a kiss on my head. "Aw, you're so sweet," I said while smiling up at him. He smiled back as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket to take a photo of his pumpkin. "Here I want one with you and yours. Then we can do the opposite." He said. I walked next to my pumpkin, picked it up, and stood next to it smiling at the camera. I put it down as I grabbed my phone and did the same. Took a photo of mine followed by one of Adam and his. "These are going on Christmas cards for sure," I said jokingly. "100%" Adam replied.

31 days of Halloween

join my taglist

#ryeriy #nhl hockey #adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #hockey #ryeriys blog #ryeriys 31doh #31 days of halloween

37 notes · View notes

12pt-times-new-roman · 2 months

Text

c3e92 pt. 1: the Bells Hells

Man, Matt really had to open with that somber tone, didn't he—

Orym immediately takes the lead, begins to guide them away from the city, away from the storms. It makes sense — the rest of them haven't experienced something like this before, the loss of a loved one, of a friend, in the heat of a battle when you can't stop for even a second to process what just happened.

Liliana can't go with them — if she leaves, they'll know, and she's more useful to them as an agent on the inside. If she goes, then the Bells Hells won't know the developments on the moon, won't know what's going on; but while she's here, she can relay that information back to Exandria.

In order to reawaken Predathos, there are boundaries that imprison it within itself, set up by the gods. The Ruidisborn are part of pushing through those boundaries, and are supposed to be what breaks the final one; without an exaltant vessel, Predathos can't step beyond its cage.

Liliana is not the only possible vessel — she is simply the strongest one. If she goes, then another Ruidusborn will take her place. She's communed with it, and she doesn't think that it wants them, wants mortals — it just wants to be awake, to be free. But they, and especially Orym, cannot take her word for it, because everything she knows about it is what it has told her.

Imogen makes the right call and clues the Bells Hells in to not telling Liliana about the secret passage. Liliana tells her that as long as Imogen is not on Ruidus, they can contact each other in dreams safely, presumably because she would be reaching out to Imogen beyond the eyes of the Weave-mind. She also tells them that the Weave-mind and Ludinus haven't been able to trust her because they cannot fully see within her mind. A wave of relief and heartbreak washes over her as Imogen tells her to stay.

Ludinus first made contact with the Weave-mind about three centuries ago (corresponding to the fall of Molaesmyr), and they both knowingly use each other to their own ends, each thinking that they'll have the final word. But Ludinus has been "following a path laid out for him by Predathos."

Liliana was at the conservatory in Jrusar when Ludinus found her and started to groom her to become an exaltant. He offered to free her and Imogen from the burden, but she didn't realize what was being done until she was already too deep in it.

"How can we get out of the city safely?" "Give me your hands." Liliana teleports them to the edge of the Bloody Bridge. "Find those who you can trust. Then, find me, when you need my guidance. I'll see you in your dreams."

As soon as they step through the bridge, they see that the interior is the same encampment. They bluff their way through, with the aid of a phantasmal force, and make it outside — there's evidence of recent battle here. There are "trophies," too — holy symbols and Vasselheim armor set out on pikes. They spot the familiar symbol of the Changebringer, looking off to an unknown horizon from a tattered cloak, and they take it.

Imogen sends a message to Keyleth: "We're back. We're at the surface of the Malleus Key, trying to find a way to get back to you." "Oh. That is wonderful news. I'll be at the encampment as soon as I can — can you get there safely? Oh. That's not how this works. Uh, I'll—"

The tension begins to fade as they make their way westward toward the encampment they first came from.

Ashton: "He'd been itching to do that since the day I met him." Orym: "But I've seen enough fights go south. If he didn't do that, we'd all be dead."

FCG made his death count, and they can all make it worth it — but Ashton can be angry, too. Those two things are easy to hold at the same time.

As for Liliana, they made the right call, not trusting her. She may have her reservations about Ludinus, she might not support him, but she's very much a believer of Predathos, of Ludinus' goal.

Laudna: "That bit she said, about how this is what you're designed for... it reminded me of FCG, but I also feel like I owe you an apology. I feel like I understood your mom, on a deeper level, in that moment; I think it's reminiscent of something I think we all struggle with, not being able to supersede that feeling of being designed. Controlled. Manipulated. But it also made my heart break for her. It feels like we've been very privileged to go on a journey guided by FCG to learn that we're more than what our creators intended for us, and I don't think she's had that." Laudna hits the nail on the head: any one of them could've been in Liliana's shoes. Until the shard incident, Ashton was. But they had someone, a group, to pull them back from the edge.

Ashton: "It made me very angry, and I don't like being angry. You're too fucking good for her. I hope she's right, I really do — I hope her ends are great, because these means are unforgivable."

Orym sticks one of Otohan's blades in the dirt. "That is the blade that killed my husband. She is not right." He walks away.

Chetney (/Travis) has a feeling about where Ludinus was; he turns to Everoa. She tells them that he's in Aeor. That's where he's been getting all these machines, the dispelling array, the influence for the keys, the war machines.

There are multiple layers of the Prime Pillar, and while they got through the first layer, the second was divinely-originated adamantine; when they discovered this, Ludinus left for Aeor to try and find a solution, but he hasn't returned in days. Something in Aeor, called the Dominox, was delaying his Aeorian excavations.

Aeorian technology had a unique understanding of how to unravel the basis of divine magic, which the Emperium needed to burrow through the shell containing Predathos. So Ludinus went in search of the Factorum Malleus within the depths of Aeor.

The glass on Ruidus is the remnants of Predathos' last form, the form it was imprisoned in. Its body was turned in to its own prison — the same thing that happened to Alyxian.

"There are moments in someone's life when they need to decide what to do next. I think this is one of them." Ashton needs to sleep, needs to break something — but in the morning, they'll all have some thoughts about who they're going to be next.

Orym breaks into tears, finally lets the facade slip to Imogen. "Every one of us makes our decisions through the lenses we see life through. I can't take mine down. It's not even about revenge for me; I'm just trying to honor what they signed up to do." Although they might not have seen eye to eye in the past, Imogen reassures Orym that he should have no doubts about her goals now; Liliana made her choices, and Imogen understands that now.

As Imogen leaves, Orym reaches out to Dorian. "We're home. Can you hear me? Northeast of Bassuras. Can you get there? I'm... struggling. Can you get here? Fuck, I miss you."

Matt asks everyone to leave the table, then he leaves, too.

Aabria sits behind the screen.

You know what? I think it's time to see the other half of the story.

I'm splitting this one into two parts! pt. 2 under the cut

This is most likely going to be my last summary-style liveblog post! I'll be reverting back to doing one-post stuff as things happen, it's just easier on me and my hyperfixation-addled interest that way :)

c3e92 pt. 2: the Crown Keepers

We open on the Crown Keepers plus Cyrus, not far from Kraghammer. They have been moving from village to village across the world to keep away from Poska. It's been nearly a month, and each of them have a cache of both money and brumestone. But two weeks ago, the Apogee Solstice began, and the Blightstar was lost from the skies of Tal'dorei.

Dariax's divine soul comes from a deity known as "the Observer." Even he, alongside Lolth, Melora, and the Raven Queen have felt fear from their patrons (though from the Observer, more a feeling of curiosity toward the world).

It was Orym's message that pushed the Crown Keepers to haste, trekking toward Zephrah. Even then, as they travel,

Dariax has no goal outside of a sense of kinship toward those he's traveled with, and a new sense of protectiveness over Opal. He's liable to stay at Dorian's side to follow in his footsteps. Protector.

Morrighan is like a horse chomping at the bit; she's been given new purpose from the Matron of Ravens, calls herself (and perhaps was designated) a champion. She feels distant from the Crown Keepers and allegiance to the Matron; the second she says bite, she'll bite, no matter who it is. She's multiclassed into paladin. Lying in wait.

Fy'ra Rai hasn't been fully lost or demoralized, but confused as to where she is most needed now. She remembers saying that not all family is blood, much family is chosen, so she's diverting her protective nature from her sister to the Crown Keepers, who the Wildmother pulled her to protect. She still feels the loss of her sister, Poska. Conflicted.

Dorian thought he wanted this scenario — freedom, adventure. But it's not the situation dragging his mood down; he's had more time alone, and he feels the group start to drift, and he's coming to an unsettling realization: he's missing something in this equation. It's something he ran from months ago, something he felt like he didn't have and wanted. He's starting to wonder why he's here, for the first time ever. From drifting to searching.

Opal is in a dream-like existence, where she's losing the thread. There are moments of clarity, and she works overtime to be more herself around the Crown Keepers then; she feels like if she can keep it together, then she has control. But much like when you're in that space between falling asleep and being awake, it's all confusing. In the moments where it feels more dreamlike, she becomes darker, unsettling and unsettled. Opal's dreams were the things that went first. It's not that she sleeps and has nightmares; every night for the past 2 weeks, she goes to sleep and wakes up exhausted, as if her body had been tensed and moving throughout the night, with no memory of the time between. Every dawn, if she reaches for Ted, she is exhausted. If she presses, she tells her little. It's not her fight.

Some days into this journey, something in Opal's mind breaks. She stops in the middle of the road, listening. Immediately, the Crown Keepers snap to attention.

Morrighan feels that same ineffable sense of purpose, the absolute density of presence, the pure light that she felt when she made the pact with the Matron — inverted. The same bestowment of power and purpose, tinged with something that curdles the stomach of the Matron, and so curdles Morrighan's.

Morrighan sees it in a crow's song before it happens, but Opal raises, levitates, then expands outward in every direction.

Matt slides over to the other side of the table, leaving Amy alone on the top table, and we launch into combat against Lolth-Incarnate Opal!

Opal hears the voice in her ear. "Hah. So sorry. I think... I wanted us to have a little more time to do this organically. But your sister keeps getting in my way. I don't care about my image; I care about my life. And what I need more than rehabilitation and public perception is a champion — a true champion. I need you to come with me, and I need to sever the ties that keep you with [the Crown Keepers]. They tie you to this place, they hold you back, and what I need is someone who works for me, who serves me. You accepted my crown, and now, the bill is due. Opal, Twice-Crowned, you will become my champion."

Morrighan update: She's an oath of vengeance paladin!

She hits Opal, but Opal takes none of that damage — Ted takes all of it. As the blade sinks in, it hits the dark shadow of something that looks like Opal but cut and muscled.

As Dorian beseeches her — "why are you doing this?" — the Opal that is acting responds, not the Opal that is within: "she doesn't know."

Off of a successful religion check, Fy'ra Rai asks the Wildmother first what she, Fy'ra, could do to stop Opal's transformation: remove the crown. Then, she asks what the Wildmother could do to stop it: why would I? As the third question, what does the Wildmother need from Fy'ra to help Opal? Why would I stop this from happening? The answer is not furious, it is fearful.

Melora, the Wildmother would not herself stop this transformation from happening. Opal donned this crown willingly, and these are the consequences; why would the Wildmother intervene? And further, the Wildmother is afraid of the Blightstar, of Ludinus, of Predathos. Why would she stop the exaltation of the champion of the gods? It's not like the Prime Deities and the Betrayers have never been united before. It's not like the circumstances weren't almost precisely the same.

Lolth speaks again: "What are you willing to do? I will make her mine. Are you willing to kill her? I will not die to that." They see a flash of red.

Then, as Morrighan picks up one of the clusters of crystals surrounding her, something inside Opal's mind shatters — a memory rises, then breaks and fades. There's a story, told to the pair of them shortly before their mother disappeared, when they were three years old. There's a word: "evalux." A splinter-group, mis-matched eyes. "A long time ago, a group of people found something called a Beacon. They learned from it about some great entity or god, a concept that sought to know itself, to understand via experience the world of Exandria. It split itself apart. This one was found far away. These people that worshiped the Luxon found and created magics within themselves to split their own souls apart so that they could learn who they were via observation." Opal was a child, torn in two, learned what she liked and loved and knew through observation of Ted — and so, Opal and Ted are entangled. Opal understands herself because she understands Ted; she is not lost to her, she is her. They are something rare and magical — a memory, rare and lost forever in the moment of knowing.

Matt: "I'm gonna go ahead and cast bless at 2nd level—" Aabria: "GOD DAMNIT"

Cyrus the Himbo my beloved — "BROTHER, I CANNOT SEE. Should I shoot an arrow??" "NO—"

As they pick up the gems surrounding Opal, they each see a memory. The one that Fy'ra picks up is from a week ago, a village hardly more than a hamlet, a mixture of cold and humid and quiet. In an inn, in the memory, they bump in to each other — Fy'ra is holding the two pars of the once-whole tiger eye, moving them between her fingers like worry stones. "I told you it was... important to heal things with [Ted]. I've always known that [my sister] is... my sister, but she's always been a bit of an asshole. But I never thought that she would want to kill me."

Fy'ra and Opal find common ground, being the one whose asshole sister is trying to kill her and being the asshole sister (respectively). As they do, Fy'ra looks to the crown digging into Opal's skin. "I don't know what is happening to you, but you can trust me to fight for you as if you were my sister, too."

(guys please watch this instead of reading my recap, the humor here is so much better than I could ever transcribe—)

The episode ends on the Crown Keepers breaking away from Opal and fleeing as she pursues.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog

17 notes · View notes

airasora · 4 months

Text

As some of you might remember, I lost one of my birds, my kakariki Sweeney, over 2 months ago due to an accident that was entirely my own fault. I struggled with a lot of self-loathing for a long time and along with realizing how toxic my workplace is, I kinda completely broke down. I haven't been to work since Sweeney died, but I'm starting again next week, slowly with just 2 days a week to begin with.

During my mourning period, I found myself looking at birds at shelters, breeders, anywhere. It was an odd way to deal with the pain, and I had no intention of adding a new member to my flock. But then I came across a breeder who had conures. Specifically, she was currently looking for homes for two pineapple-colored conures. Long story short, she and I had a really good connection and while someone else adopted the last of her conure babies, she heard my story and told me she could tell I was a good bird mom whom she knew would give any of her babies a loving home. So...

Say hello to the newest member of my bird family... one of these guys here ❤️ More specifically, hopefully one of the pineapple colored ones will be a male, and I'm bringing him home in a month or so. His name is gonna be Beetlejuice and his breeder is the most loving person I have ever met. She forms such strong connections with all her babies, hand-feeding and training them as much as she can so they're ready for their new homes. It'll be my first time bringing home a bird who will already be very used to hands, so it's going to be an amazing experience.

While no one can replace Sweeney - nor do I have a desire to try and replace him - I have been missing his love and affection. You see, I have different relationships with all my birds since they have different personalities.

Hamilton is very independent, but loves being pet. And he's the only one who'll let me give him scritches. He also always willingly step up on my hand, even if he'd rather not, he's just very polite lol.

Poppins the other hand does NOT want to be pet, but he'll climb on me, follow me into the bathroom and kitchen and will try and share his food with me.

I have close to no relationship with Wonka and Moulin, my two adopted birds who came from abusive homes. Neither will come close to me, though Wonka will let me walk by him without flying away now. Coming from abusive homes, building a relationship with them will take a long time, and I'm ok with that. I have loads of patience when it comes to birds.

And then there was Sweeney, who also didn't want scritches, but followed me around and would have verbal battles with me where we'd yell peekaboo at each other. We also had a game where I'd hold out my finger and he'd bonk his beak against it. He never learned to say "beep" when we did this, but he knew exactly what beep meant. He would also sit on me and play with my hair and climb around. And I miss that. I miss this little loving, ball of pure energy.

Sweeney can't be replaced, but Beetlejuice will be a new, loving member of my little family. I'm so excited to bring him home in a month 🥰

#personal #get to know me #bird #birds #sweeney #beetlejuice #conure #conures #poppins #hamilton #wonka #moulin

10 notes · View notes

atarathegreat · 11 months

Text

Shota Aizawa- He's Gone

Sleep had been elusive the last month, and as a pro hero I couldn't afford to be even the slightest bit tired. Fatigue meant that I wasn't on top of my game and could be taken down. Easily.

Yet, still I sat in my living room at two in the morning, halfway through my third book. It was a hardback a friend had given me years ago, I'd probably read it a thousand times at that point. It kept me enthralled every time I picked it up, as any good book would.

"You can't sleep either?" Aizawa stepped through my window, his dark hair falling over his eyes, "Reading some more? Do you ever put the books down?"

I waved the book sarcastically in his direction, "Just staring at the cover, actually. I love the flat green and the singular flower."

He chuckled, sitting in front of my chair so he could put his head in my lap. I let my fingers tug at his hair while I read, using his head to hold the book while I turned pages. I enjoyed his company on those late nights where boredom was likely to kill you faster than villains.

For the last couple years we'd climbed through each other's windows if we couldn't sleep, more him than me. Neighbors had become nosy about him coming in through the front door and I was tired of them asking about my love life. Aizawa didn't seem to mind going through the window, though he also didn't mind the front door, as long as he was able to come in and see me.

Aizawa moved to readjust and wedged his hands between my back and the chair, tugging himself closer to my stomach. I began to tell him about the book, bored of the silence. He listened as I spoke, humming when I asked an open ended question. Normally I asked before telling him about the books, but he seemed tired and I kinda hoped that my droning on would put him to sleep.

"Can I ask you a question, Y/n?" His dark eyes searching deep in mine, "Why do we continue to act like this and not move forward?"

I knew what he meant, but I didn't want to have this conversation yet again, "I already told you, we can share my bed. We don't have to sleep out here."

He rolled his eyes, "We love each other, at least I hope we do. Why don't we do anything about it? We get so close to each other and yet we stay so far away."

"Does he still have such a grip on you?" Aizawa moved so our noses were nearly touching and his breath fanned over my face, "It's been over twenty years, Y/n."

I slammed the book down on the end table as I stood, shoving Aizawa to the side. He followed me, telling me it had been years, that Oboro was dead and I was allowed to move on. My body tensed with each and every word he said.

"I know!" My quirk cracked the kitchen countertops as soon as I touched them, "I know I can move on, Shota, but how am I supposed to let go of the guilt?"

"How am I supposed to! I was there! I could've saved him but I didn't, Y/n!" Aizawa shouted, making me flinch away from the volume and anger, "You and him would probably be happy right now if I had just moved a little faster!"

My heart sunk at his words, "So you love me out of guilt? You think I'd be happy with Oboro if he wasn't dead, so you love me through that guilt?"

In mere seconds my head was shoved into his chest, his hand holding me firmly, "Not out of guilt, never. I love you because your amazing."

The hug was crushing the oxygen out of my lungs, but somehow I still found the air to cry. Aizawa released the back of my head to hold around my back, his own silent cries making him sniffle. My hands tightened around the fabric of his shirt, my breathes coming out in huge gasps.

Of course I loved Aizawa, he was there when no one else was. Oboro being dead changed none of that. It had never changed anything for me, not my love nor my sadness.

But me being with Oboro when he died was what was holding me back. Twenty years had come and gone, Oboro was forever a teenager and I was in my thirties. The relationship I'd once had was long gone, and I was pushing away the only one I wanted.

The realization calmed my crying, but I still couldn't talk. I loved Shota, I needed him and I was the reason I didn't have him. I gripped tighter to Shota and stared into the dimly lit living room, the book shining from under the lamp.

Oboro was gone, resting peacefully, and I was holding onto the old memories of me and him. I had kept myself in that state of mind just so I didn't have to let go of him.

I pulled away and kissed Aizawa's cheek, letting my cries settle before I spoke, "Let's do it. Me and you. A couple."

Before going to bed that night I grabbed the book Oboro had gifted me years ago. A good story can keep you hooked no matter how many times you read it, and Oboro always knew how to pick the perfect ones. I rested it in its spot on my shelf, running my finger down the spine. My final silent goodbye.

Aizawa stood beside me, looking at the book as he said his own goodbye. We were great friends with Oboro and saying goodbye was the hardest thing we'd ever done. Knowing it was the final goodbye did not make it easier, for me it almost seemed more painful. Was it harder for Shota as well?

"Y'know, he'd probably kick our asses if he knew we were still mourning him." Shota chuckled, his arm finding its place around my back.

I nodded, wiping at some stray tears, "He'd definitely kick our asses for not sleeping. Come on, the sun is rising and it's my only day off."

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x reader #eraser head x reader #x female reader #female reader #mha #bnha #mha x reader #mha x female reader #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #angst #fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

49 notes · View notes

mercurygray · 5 months

Note

hiiiiii you know i have to ask about the bitb/rowing idea!! dick taking up rowing is something i never knew i needed until now haha

She never thought she'd see another regatta.

College felt impossibly far away from where Joan was sitting in the grandstands of the Potomac Rowing Club - the sweaters, the flags, the weight of Ben's fraternity pin on her jacket. The world had looked different, in 1939 - and while she remembered that she liked a great many things about Bennett Hilliard, she also remembered being quite sure that becoming Mrs. Hilliard while he want to law school wasn't in her cards. Still, he'd come from the right sort of family and danced well and she'd liked the way she felt in his arms. Everyone at Poughkeepsie had been talking about Helsinki, and how it was a shame no one would be able to follow up the miraculous success of the UW team at Berlin.

The river in front of her today, however, was not the Hudson, and ten years was a long time in between races - a lot of water under many, many oars. Bennett Hilliard had gone on to marry some other Goucher graduate and she had gone to war.

Someone cleared his throat - a well-dressed man in glasses and a Syracuse scarf. "Captain Warren, it's so good of you to come out today. Your husband said we'd be seeing you. Usually we have to save Go Army for the football season. I like Dickie's chances - he's got to be one of the most natural rowers I've ever seen. It's Mort Greenstan," he said, holding out a hand for her to shake.

Joan finally placed the name, and abbreviated the smile that sprang to her lips hearing him called Dickie, a name he never owned to if he could help it. "The club chairman, yes, Dick mentioned you might stop by."

"Do you mind if I join you? I brought binoculars, in case you forgot."

"Thanks, I have my own," Joan said, patting the well-worn pair that had seen her through most of Europe.(She'd noticed the woman down the row a little had a lovely pair of pearl-handles on hers, but now wasn't the time for getting self-conscious. Joan Warren didn't follow things like fashion and if she wanted to bring her army binoculars to a regatta, she was damn well going to bring her army binoculars.)

"My, those have really been through the war, haven't they?" Mort said, trying to make a joke as he made himself comfortable on the seat next to her. Joan nodded serenely.

"Three campaigns in Europe and two combat jumps," she said, and smiled even wider when Mort went silent.

Down at the dock, the competitors were just getting into their sculls, each man wearing the colors of his own home club. A few colleges, here and there, Georgetown and Harvard and even Greenstan's Syracuse colors, and the other out of towners, Hudson and Annapolis and Newport. And there was Dick in his racing singlet and shorts, arms and legs all whipcord and muscle, and she allowed herself a good long look at the man she married. He caught sight of her in the stands and smiled, waving. She touched her hand to her lips, a small personal symbol of a kiss, and watched his smile widen.

The announcer was blazing through the names of the competitors, and she caught, almost missing it as it blew by, "-Colonel Richard Winters, rowing today for Potomac in the single men's sculls."

She had been just as surprised as anyone else when she'd came home from an assignment and realized there were muscles under his suitcoat that she'd hardly noticed when she left. "I joined the rowing club," he'd explained. "They were talking about it at lunch and Ken's a member, so I started going on Saturdays. It's a lot like running - the way you can lose your mind in it."

She'd nodded and agreed and made a joke about other things he could lose his mind in that required stroking, and that had been the last they'd talked about it for several hours, at least. But he'd kept at it until it was silly calling it a hobby, and now they were here, at a regatta, in the starting heats of a crowded and talented field.

The sculls were at the starting line, the rowers crouching into position at their oars, eyes ready for the flag. Joan tightened her grip on her binoculars and waited for the starter, her feet yearning for starting blocks and racing spikes, and a sudden surge of energy filled her as the flag dropped down and the race was on, and she was right there with him in his boat, shouting for the pace.

#i have written a thing #joan warren #postwar #mercurygraypresents #thirsty thursday

11 notes · View notes

smartycvnt · 1 year

Text

Sealed and Stamped

Pairing: Liv Morgan x Reader

Prompt: "Marriage is almost like the ultimate pinky promise." "The ring doesn't go on that finger honey."

WC: 787

"Alright, we're here. You can take the blindfold off now," you told Liv. There was no doubt in your mind about whether or not she heard the nervous excitement in your voice. It was a bit of a long shot, but you had made a promise years ago and were sticking to it. Whenever Liv had dropped out of school, she had been afraid about the two of you having enough time to spend with each other. You had brought her to this parking lot where the two of you promised that nothing would ever get in the way of your friendship. There had been promises like that before, ones that had nearly been broken by the trials and tribulations of growing up. That one had been tested a few times, but it had stayed strong.

"You brought me to a parking lot?" Liv looked around with a very obviously confused expression on her face. Her nose was scrunched up as she tried to think of all the times she had been here, specifically with you. Liv knew that she'd been here before, it had been where everyone hung out as teenagers. She had lots of memories tied here, but none of them had anything to do with her recent marriage to you. "Are we going to 7/11?"

"We can if you want a Slurpee, but that's not why we're here," you said. Liv hummed as she stepped out of the car. Confused, you followed her as she walked around the parking lot. There was a method to her madness, one that you really didn't understand. You had been certain that everything in your plan had been perfect, right down to the parking spot. "Where are you going?"

Liv stopped very suddenly without another word. She had her back turned to you for a couple more seconds. Once she turned back around to face you, she was smiling just like she had whenever she won the Smackdown Women's Championship at Money in the Bank. That was the smile of victory. Liv had figured out why you brought her here, or at least she thought that she had. You weren't completely sure, but you weren't going to rain on her parade just yet. You'd at the very least let Liv tell you what she assumed had happened here that was significant to the two of you.

"Marriage is a lot of things, but underneath it all, it's a promise. Before they had certificates, people just went by their word," Liv said. You nodded, hopeful that she really did have everything all figured out. "Over the years we've made a lot of promises to each other, but this past year I really think we've made the most of them. A few got broken along the way, but the really important ones never did. When it counts, we're good to each other like that. Marriage is almost like the ultimate pinky promise, the kind you seal with a kiss."

"The ring doesn't go on that finger honey," you joked. Liv rolled her eyes as she pulled you into her arms. "I promised you that we'd come back here one day when we had both made something big of ourselves. You've made quite the name for yourself as professional wrestler, and I made myself your wife."

"My wife who parked in the wrong spot at first. We weren't at the 7/11, we were at Hooters. I had my first day, hated it, and you cheered me up after letting me cry my eyes out for an hour even though you had school the next day." Liv got a dreamy, far off look in her eyes as she retold the story. You couldn't help but smile when you thought of how close the two of you had been without realizing your feelings for each other. At the very least, you hadn't known that you were in love with Liv yet. Liv claimed to have never really seen herself growing old with anybody except for you, but back then she thought about it in a Golden Girls way instead of the two of you being married.

"I thought you didn't mind a bit of a walk," you said quietly. You didn't have to be quiet since nobody was around to hear you, but you liked the idea of this being your private moment. Liv hooked her pinky with yours and stuck her thumb out. You pressed your thumb to hers and both of you leaned down to kiss the back of your thumbs. Liv smiled as she pushed your hands down so that she could kiss your lips. The kiss was short and sweet, just like your moment together had been.

#liv morgan x reader #liv morgan #wwe x reader #wwe #my writing

123 notes · View notes

wheels-of-despair · 1 year

Text

Worth It: The Honeymoon - Valentina's Palace

A Worth It Blurb Series | Ralph Penbury x You | Series Masterlist

One of your favorite rooms wasn't even in the house.

It had been bright and sunny when you entered the woods on the other side of the pond. You'd wandered the trails, hand in hand, pointing out squirrels and birds and just enjoying being outside.

When you came back out, the clouds had rolled in. It was getting darker by the second, and you could smell the rain in the air.

"Come on, if we hurry, we can make it back before the rain starts," Ralph said, looking up at the clouds one last time before pulling you forward with a sense of urgency.

You made it three steps before the sky opened up. The heavy drops pummeled Ralph's embarrassed face as if they were taunting him.

"What was that you were saying about making it back before the rain starts?" you shouted over the downpour, with a grin on your face. Ralph growls and leads you toward a small outbuilding that's much closer than the main house.

It had been neglected for so long, it didn't want to let you in. Ralph rammed the door with his shoulder a few times, and it finally flew open, sending him stumbling inside. You followed, not daring to close the door again, and placed a hand on the shoulder he wasn't rubbing the pain out of.

"Are you alright?" He nods. "What is this place?"

"Valentina's Palace," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Victoria's doll house."

"This is Victoria's doll house?"

Ralph nods, looking around the small structure with annoyance.

"You know, for normal children, a doll house is a small thing that goes inside a playroom."

"Victoria? Normal?" You share a smirk, and Ralph begins poking through boxes. "Aha!" he exclaims, opening the third or fourth box and beckoning you forward to see Valentina the Doll's custom-made furniture. Ralph moves to the next box as you poke through to find a small canopy bed, matching chairs, rugs, sofas, tables… even a doll dressed as a maid. For the doll who has everything else.

"Here we go," he says, shaking out a blanket and draping it across your shoulders. It's not until you feel its warmth that you realize how cold you'd gotten. When Ralph doesn't move to dig for another blanket, you grasp the top corners and hold out your arms, stepping toward him like a bat and wrapping your arms around his shoulders to enclose him in your blanket cocoon.

He nuzzles in close and wraps his arms around your waist beneath the blanket, both content to just stand there and hold each other as you listen to the rain pounding on the roof of Valentina's Palace. And then a crack of thunder makes you both jump, pulling you from your cozy trance. Ralph looks down with a sheepish smile and brushes a wet strand of hair from your face.

"I think we'd probably be a lot warmer without all these wet clothes, don't you?"

You respond with a kiss. Yes, definitely a good idea.

#writings of despair #ralph is worth it #worth it: the honeymoon #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury

24 notes · View notes

edoro · 1 year

Note

What do you think of "Watching and Dreaming"?

oooh thank you for asking! took me a bit to get to it but today i am MEDICATED and MOSTLY FINISHED WITH CLEANING so let's see what i can shake out of the ol' brainpan

gonna put this under a cut because it's probably going to get long, but overall: i liked it! i think it wrapped everything up pretty well, did not leave any major plot points unaddressed, and i found the timeskip epilogue to be sweet and hopeful but not saccharine or cloying.

in more detail:

seeing the three episodes we got for season 3 makes me wish so badly that we'd gotten the full run of the show that the crew wanted. i've seen word from the last post-hoot that they found out the show was canceled right before the mid-s2 hiatus, which tracks with the overall pacing and direction of the back half of s2, and it's just a tragedy. i think they did a really good job with what they had, considering the insanely compressed runtime they were given to work with.

i'm a little disappointed that the other kids didn't get more screentime in the final episode. it makes sense but i wish we had gotten more of them and their interactions with each other outside of Luz - and their interactions with Camila, too.

i honestly really loved the whole thing with the Collector. i know a lot of people don't for various reasons, but, Shrug Emoji. some of the criticisms of his whole arc really don't make sense to me - i feel like the people who are mad that they did turn out to be a misguided kid who didn't understand the gravity of what they were doing or how it affected others for various reasons (such as: being a child, having been isolated for centuries with only Philip for company, being immortal and having incredible reality-warping powers) and changed their tune when it was explained to them just, uh... were not really paying attention? lmao?

like it was pretty obvious from his first appearance that he was a child or at least very childlike, and we can easily infer from those scenes that he's been held captive and manipulated by Philip under the guise of friendship and 'letting him free to play', so everything else follows pretty naturally from that.

i liked how it was Luz, with her own childhood experience of death and grief, who recognized what was going on here and sought to explain it to them. she's always been an empathetic person who tries to see the best in others and give them the benefit of the doubt. sometimes, like with Philip, this comes back to bite her, but most of the time it's good and helpful.

i really like how we had someone just outright tell her "lmao no" to her whole "but am i JUST AS BAD as Philip???" thing. like honey, no, you have made some clumsy mistakes while meaning well, and the thing you're the most guilty about is literally just 'helping a guy who manipulated and lied to you without realizing he was manipulating and lying to you', which is not even your fault, because HE LIED TO YOU. Philip has spent centuries carefully engineering his way into being able to commit genocide. these two things are not the same.

speaking of Philip: i also know a lot of people have been upset with his ending. honestly, i'm not! i think that it tracks very well with the kind of person he's always been - a stubborn, manipulative liar who sees himself as a victim and blames everyone else around him for the tragedies that he's experienced, many of which he's directly personally caused, and who has been given chance after chance to change his mind, change his behavior, change his beliefs, and simply refuses to.

like... some people are just assholes! i don't think that the fact that he ended up lying, manipulating, treating humans as supreme, and trying to commit witch genocide to the very bitter end means that he was like, Born Evil, i think it means that he was once a sweet kid who loved his brother who grew into a cruel, hateful, manipulative man who only saw certain people as Fully Persons and therefore deserving of existence, and felt like he had the authority to decide who is or is not a person.

and honestly like... The Owl House is a children's cartoon. it's rated Y7. it is for children and part of its purpose IS to teach children things, and i actually think that "sometimes, people will hurt you, and they'll lie and say they're doing it for your own good or for the greater good, or they'll have a sympathetic reason for doing it, but that doesn't actually matter because they keep hurting you and you do not owe them infinite chances to keep doing that" is a really good lesson to teach children.

Philip's story is a tragedy and the tragedy is that he easily COULD have done literally any other thing, but he refused to. he had chances! he refused to take them! he had centuries to go, "wait, am i the baddie?" and he did not. he murdered Caleb himself and then blamed witches for that. instead of treating the grimwalkers like family, he treated them like disposable toys to take his anger at Caleb out on. he lied, manipulated, killed, stole, and hurt countless people because he felt like they deserved it because of his own unhappiness.

some people are like this! it happens! i have met them and personally been harmed by them in ways that are going to impact me for the rest of my life and have, if not exactly ruined my life, made it a hell of a lot harder than it would have been otherwise.

so for me, seeing that the ultimate resolution of Philip's story is that he refused to change, he refused to admit any fault, he kept lying and manipulating and trying to hurt people, and eventually everyone he tried to hurt and lie to turned on him and got rid of him so he couldn't keep hurting them is very satisfying.

The Owl House is a show about how people have the capability to change, but the flip side of that is that it means they have to choose to do so, and some people won't. so what do you do then? what happens when someone is hateful, cruel, and dangerous, and won't stop trying to exterminate an entire race of people because he blames them for his own self-inflicted problems? what do you owe someone like that? how many chances should you give them? how often should you let them have the opportunity to hurt you or others again?

i think the fact that he went out so pathetically is also very fitting. to the very end he wouldn't own up to anything. he just kept trying to lie and manipulate. and like many people who act this way, when his manipulation didn't work, he dropped the mask and got mad.

so yeah! i liked that aspect of it, and i feel like a lot of the criticisms are honestly just... expecting Philip to have played a very different role in the story than imo he was set up to play. he was the contrast to people like Alador or Hunter or Amity or the Collector. he was the example of what happens when someone REFUSES to change and uses any chance you give them as a foothold to do more damage. so the ending where it's just, "sometimes you have to do what you can to protect yourself from people like that" is imo quite narratively cohesive, and i think that it also fits into the overall theme of "your character is determined by your actions." Philip COULD HAVE ended differently, but he didn't, because of his own actions.

let's see... i feel very (seesawing hand motion) about the scene with Luz and Papa Titan. overall i think i like it.

i like the idea that Luz found everything through her own ingenuity and Philip didn't because he didn't treat the Isles as worth studying!

but that being said, i think there's something quite powerful about the idea of the land itself as a being with some limited level of agency, able to open itself and its resources up to someone who approaches it with respect and able to reject someone who comes in to rapaciously plunder it in order to kill those who live on it, ESPECIALLY given the fact that Philip is, literally, a white Puritan.

like that's definitely also a very meaningful narrative to me!

i don't really talk about this a whole lot here, for various reasons, but half of my family is native (Osage, specifically.) i'm not connected to that side of my family or that aspect of my own heritage for Complicated Reasons including abuse and the ongoing effects of white supremacy and colonial violence causing those members of my family themselves to be disconnected from their heritage in a way that meant that i was, basically, raised as a white person who is visually Ethnically Ambiguous depending on how familiar the people looking at me are with what mixed native people look like.

however, as someone who has perhaps a more personal connection than some others in the fandom might to the idea of "white man from a colonizer culture comes into a land foreign to him, views them all as backwards evil savages who must be purged for the safety of the good white Christians, proceeds to plunder and misuse their resources for his own gains, destroys their connection to their own history and culture and installs himself as a figurehead leading them into death" as like, a narrative, i don't think that the idea that the Titan was watching what happened and subtly nudging or influencing events to the degree that he was able to (which was ultimately a very, very small one) is like... meaningless.

and i don't think that what he said to Luz negates any of the messaging of the series. he didn't say, "you were special All Along, so you deserve my powers." he said, "you're the one who's here right now, and you seem good enough."

like... she proved herself, by her actions, to be an open and caring person who wants to do good, and specifically cares deeply for the Isles and the people on them, to the point where she is willing to sacrifice herself for them. and she's the one who is here, right now, in this moment. and she is not a perfect person, but she's Good Enough.

i actually really like that! she's here and she's good enough. she's the one in a position to do something about it and she seems okay. i don't think that it does retroactively make her into a "chosen one", because she didn't get it through her birthright or anything, she was given it because she ended up there (because she sacrificed herself to save the Collector) and she had previously shown herself to be someone the Titan thought would use it well.

so i liked that! i think that, like with "you actually do not have to keep giving someone chances to hurt you when they are a shitty liar, even if they're also sad", "you're here and you're good enough" is a pretty good lesson!

what else, what else... loved the whole bit with Philip possessing Raine and them fighting him off. loved the sequence of the two of them duking it out in the throne room and the fact that Philip just BIT them - little brother behavior for sure. Raine is a stone-cold fucking badass.

one little detail i liked a lot is the bit where they're stuck in the goop in the throne room basically waiting to die, and Eda comes in - i specifically really love how the crew got the look of soft, fuzzy, unfocused confusion in their eyes because they don't have their glasses and can't see. there's a particular way that people who need glasses to see often look when they don't have them, and they got it really well, and i just really liked that detail!

the final fight was indeed Cool As Fuck. i love how anime TOH is.

i liked the epilogue! it was very sweet. i like that it showed how people grew and changed and repaired the Isles, while not completely erasing the damage that was done. i also think it did a good job of wrapping stuff up while still leaving a lot open - it did not, imo, fall into the "jobs and babies forever" trap of something like, say, the Harry Potter epilogue, but it showed us how things went and gave us a lot of room to imagine where they'll go from there.

also love everyone's new designs. Good For All Of Them. Amity got so fucking gay and Gus is so HANDSOME now!

also of course i was ecstatic over the Huntlow lmao - i can't believe i used to dislike it! i love how often she just kind of casually and fondly manhandles him. my friend Sharo said something to the effect of, "i like how the scene where they're sliding and he stumbles and she catches him shows that it's been so long since he had to do child soldier shit that his hot jock gf is now way stronger and more athletic and nimble than him" and i haven't been normal about it since! he's SOFT now!!

so, overall, i feel positively about it! there are a lot of small threads that got dropped, no doubt due to the series being canceled, but i think they wrapped everything up well, and i feel like everything that happened actually was pretty thematically on point. i am satisfied with it! i wish we'd gotten more, but i enjoy what we did get.

#the owl house #asks #meta

32 notes · View notes

aestherians · 2 years

Text

I'm Ben, But Call Me Poppy

Preface: I would like for this essay to not just be an exploration of my own fictionkinity (though that is its main purpose) but also an introduction to the fictionkind experience in general, and to the experience of parallel lives. Of course, I am just one person and none of my experiences can be universal, but I nonetheless hope they can shed some light on fictionkinity and lead to further understanding and tolerance of these identities. And I hope it will lead to parallel lives becoming a more widely known and understood phenomenon. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

Word count: 4479

Estimated reading time: 20-25 minutes

On the 6th of December 2019 I had a weird dream. I was standing on the edge of a cliff. The wind played with my hair, long grass tickled my ankles, and high above, seabirds called out to each other. As I looked to the sky, a being made of blinding white light appeared before me. She was beautiful and graceful and older than time itself. She gently took my hand and pointed towards the horizon. My eyes followed her finger and the sky itself tore apart to reveal an inky black nothingness. But as I looked, little specks of something began to appear. Dots and lines, swirls and stars, and colors I'd never seen before. I understood then that this primordial being was showing me the beginning of this universe. And as I stared in awe, she turned to look down at me, and she told me... that I was Ben 1O fictionkind.

I don't think I've ever been as confused as I was that morning. It felt like I was still dreaming as I went through my routine, like at any moment I might wake up again. All the while, my reflection puzzled me. It was the same face I've seen every day for two decades, and yet today it just felt... wrong. I was supposed to have a human face. This wasn't the species dysphoria I'd gotten so used to. And I knew exactly which human face I was expecting to see in the mirror - it just seemed too ridiculous for me to accept.

My cameo shifts have rarely, if ever, lasted more than a few hours, and at this point they'd never been of specific characters. Sure, I had my weird relationship with Emily Jones from the now-forgotten Le//go Elv//es franchise, where I feel like I once was her but now aren't. But I never expected to see her face in the mirror. I never felt confused when I woke up in Copenhagen instead of Elven//dale. Feeling this way about Benjamin Kirby T//ennyson, of all characters, when I hadn't even watched the whole show, was weird and, for some reason, embarrassing. And it just refused to go away. In total the shift lasted around 5 days. I went to classes feeling like this guy. Grocery shopping. Hung out with my dorm buddies. I went to a Christmas market with my mom, all the while distracted because I couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, in some way, I was a fictional character from a 2005 Cartoon Network cash cow.

It didn't come completely out of the blue. Three things were happening here that probably led to this: 1) I was binging Ben 1O with my dormmate. We hadn't finished the show yet, but we'd worked our way through almost 200 episodes, so we were in deep. 2) I'd just broken it off with a girlfriend of one year. She was extremely supportive of my alterhumanity – even read a 100 page study by Devin Proctor to understand the community – so our break-up had nothing to do with that. We just realized we needed different things from a relationship. But still, it was a huge stress factor and, despite my friends' love and support, I was struggling to cope. And 3) it was finals season. The less said about that, the better. I guess what happened is that my brain latched onto one of the few simple joys I had in my life and somehow began creating an identity around that to... cope...? I guess...?

Listen, I don't know how it happened and I can only make guesses as to why. Regardless of what caused it, the effect was undeniable. After the 5 day long shift subsided, I still had a nugget of "Ben" somewhere within me that I couldn't (and, in hindsight, didn't want to) get rid of. I was ready to make a kinfirmation announcement right then and there. But, as is customary, I held off for a couple of weeks. I think my plan was to wait 3 months, but by the end of January, I made my announcement in the most gutless way possible: With a text post that read "It's okay to have 'cringy' kintypes," in the tags of which I explained that I'd kinfirmed my Ben 1O fictotype. I was still dealing with a lot of internalized shame about, not just being fictionkind, but having such a childish source material.

And yet... there was something exhilarating about it. Though my initial Ben-related feelings appeared on their own, and I felt annoyed and conflicted about them, I clearly remember reinforcing them. The socially aware side of my brain resisted – having an identity like this would be weird, it would be frowned upon, it would make it even more difficult for me to communicate who and what I am than it already is – while the self-aware side of my brain was very much in favor of forming the identity – for some reason it just felt good to experience all these fictionkin traits. More accurately, it felt right. For reasons I can't explain, I didn't want it to end. I wanted more.

------

The envisage shifts (where you appear a certain way in your mind/inner world, and where you perhaps expect to look that way in the mirror) weren't the only 'kin trait that was apparent from the start. They were just the most striking and the easiest to get others to understand. No, the most pervasive trait had to be the "parallel life flashes." I'm not sure what else to call them. They felt different from daydreams, somehow. More spontaneous and out of my control. And a lot more tangible. They've since become one of the hallmarks of my fictionkinity. They present themselves as flashbacks: For a less than a second, it'll feel like I'm "back" to living my life as Ben, then before I can fully grasp what happened it's over. Like an out-of-body experience (or, rather, an into-my-mindscape experience, since I believe all of this originates in my own psyche). I always get the sense that these flashes are somehow current, as opposed to being past or future. Perhaps because of their dream-like qualities, I often "just know" many details of what's going on in these flashes, just like I knew the alien in my awakening dream was older than time, despite her not telling me. Dreams (nightly or daily) are just like that. I just know that my life as Ben is happening parallel to my life as Poppy.

When talking to others (especially non-kin who can't be bothered to sit through 100 pages of Devin Proctor) I do tend to describe it as a daydream scenario, despite how different it feels from regular daydreams. The flashes tend to have dream-like qualities. And it's easier to say "in my go-to daydream scenario I'm a space traveler, which is a big part of my personality" than "I feel like I'm literally living a parallel life as Ben 1O and this affects my very sense of self." I suppose a big part of it is also the embarrassment I mentioned earlier - notice I vaguely called myself a space traveler instead of mentioning my fictotype by name. Ease of communication is part of it, but, undeniably, so is the masking of my true self to give a more appealing first impression. It's blatant self-suppression.

But – perhaps like Ben T//ennyson himself – wearing masks is what I do. It's what I've done since I was 1O. I craft identities for different scenarios and just flip the switch (or hit the watch) when necessary. I've learned how to contain the autism creature within, to appear normal when necessary, and I've learned how to to blend in with the background. Self-suppression has been vital to me, even if it's frustrating to have to do.

What I'm getting at is that, though this awakening was unexpected, it wasn't out of character for me. And in hindsight there really are a lot of things in my life that, combined, seem to have led to this.

Before I go into further detail, I feel like a disclaimer is in order: My upbringing wasn't abusive, but that doesn't mean it was perfect. I was raised by a single mother who gave most of her attention to my older brother due to various difficulties he had. I don't know if I blame her for the issues I have. It doesn't feel right to place blame on other struggling people, but I can't blame everything on circumstance either. I don't think anyone comes out of childhood unscathed. Generations of trauma have been built up and, even if our parents treat us better than they were treated, they're still marked by their own childhoods, which will reflect in their parenting. My upbringing was a million times better than my own mom's and she worked hard to accomplish that. That said... I can draw a very clear parallel between my childhood experiences and my current identity: I had to be the "good child" to make up for my brother's issues, I had to carry part of my mom's stress, and I couldn't let out my own frustrations, lest my mom become even more stressed. In my parallel life I'm dealing with the same problems, but magnified to a scale where they're actually taken seriously. Instead of carrying the weight of a parent, I carry the weight of the world. I become less of a person and more of a symbol for others to look towards, whether for support, reassurance, or something else. In that sense, it doesn't seem unlikely that my fictionkinity is some kind of subconscious coping mechanism. Though I have to add, I only became aware fully aware of how this passive emotional neglect had affected me – how this is the reason I can't ask for help and constantly take on bigger burdens than I should – several months after my awakening, and even then only after some really intense self-analysis.

I've been trying to come up with more reasons I happened to awaken as Ben 1O, of all characters, but it all feels so... fabricated. I was obsessed with ufology as a kid and this character is involved with aliens. But I was obsessed with ancient Egypt and with horses too, why didn't I awaken as Tutankhamun or Black Beauty? I religiously watched Ben 1O every time I visited my grandparents, who had cable tv, but I watched Da//nny Pha//ntom with the same intensity. I don't think there really is a perfect recipe for what causes a fictionkind identity. All these attempts at rationalizing it are probably a distraction – [which I've spoken about at length before]. But it's hard to really internalize the idea that 'kinity is about what you are, when you've been "gifted" with a human brain that relentlessly asks why, why, why. It's hard to look at the cold hard facts when your mind keeps wandering to theories and hypotheses.

And in all this, you forget to even examine what cold hard facts you know.

What are the cold hard facts?

Facts...

My name is [redacted]. I go by Poppy online. At this point it might as well be my name. And recently I've felt an urge to call myself Ben. When I close my eyes and try to picture myself, the image is ever changing. Sometimes I see a bipedal bison. Sometimes a gnoll. Often a mix of the two. And sometimes I see a young man with brown hair, green eyes, and a watch-like device stuck to his arm. Then I open my eyes, look in the mirror, and see something entirely different. Lighter hair, eyes more hazel than green, and something that decidedly doesn't look like a man. Or a bison or gnoll, for that matter.

I have daydream scenarios I keep returning to – stories I want to tell, the garden I wish I had, scientific advancements I dream of achieving, fanfics I'll never write. And then I have these scenarios that share many qualia with daydreams, but are altogether different. In these scenarios, I am a different person. I am living a different life, surrounded by different people, making different choices, subjected to different trials. I have two of these lives: One in which I'm a gnoll named Ɐwhrayɐ and one in which I'm a man named Ben. I did not set out to create these lives. I can't purposefully change what's happening in them – even with my belief that it all has a psychological cause, something is preventing me from changing anything. And yet, I almost always know what my alternate selves are doing, right in this moment. I can't affect their actions, I can just be aware of them. And despite this apparent wall, separating my present self from them, in some way I feel - or perhaps rather I know - that I am them. It's like... I can't affect what my past self did or said either, but I still am raer. I am still roughly the same person I was yesterday, even if today I might have made different choices. My parallel/alternate selves work in a similar way, but separated by physicality instead of time.

I'm not consciously aware of every waking moment of my parallel selves. When I say I "know" what they're doing, it's less that their thoughts and actions are beamed into my brain 24/7, and more that I can at any moment sit down, breathe, let my mind go blank, and view their world through their eyes. Like I'm possessing their bodies (though, again, my present self is not in control – my alternate selves are). Even if I don't intend to, I often end up "possessing" them during quiet moments – when I'm about to fall asleep, when I'm in transit, when I'm cleaning, and so on. What happens during quiet moments is rarely a "full body possession," though. More often, I'll just experience the thoughts or feelings of my parallel selves (alongside my present-self thoughts or feelings) and have to parse it out. I can be vacuuming the floor, having a normal one, and then suddenly I'll be intimately aware the Ben!Me is bored or that Ɐwhrayɐ!Me is in danger. I then have to extrapolate as much information as possible from this quick flash (like a flashback, but current, not past... a flashsideways? flashadjacent? flashalong? Let's go with that). If the "flashalong" was accompanied by an image, which they often are, it's not too difficult to figure out what my alternate self is doing. If it's just an emotion and nothing else, I can try to piece it together with the other flashalongs I've had recently - if yesterday my parallel self got lost and today I sense despair, it's not too difficult to put two and two together and know that they haven't found their way out yet.

But Ben is different from Ɐwhrayɐ in one major way: He has source material. Though I've been aware of my life as Ben – my Ben fictotype – for much shorter than my life as Ɐwhrayɐ, I know a lot more about my Ben life. I have more noemata, more frequent flashalongs, and my memories of Ben's childhood are much clearer than my memories of Ɐwhrayɐ's childhood. This is undoubtedly because I can just watch an episode of any Ben 1O series and immediately become aware of new things in that life. Whereas Ɐwhrayɐ is more like an original character – rair origins are in tabletop RPGs, but I can't just open up a book and know rair life history. Which is not to say I can know Ben's entire history from just watching the show either. For starters, the show is a mess of time travel and retcons and alternate universes. Secondly: I'm not the Ben depicted on the show.

The Ben 1O cartoons (with the exception of the 2016 reboot) all follow one character who has been dubbed Ben Prime by the fandom. If we view time as a tree with different timelines branching off, Prime is the tree's trunk. We're shown other branches of the tree – No Watch Ben, Bad Ben, Ben 23, Benzarro, and so on – who are all Ben, no matter how differently their lives turned out compared to Prime's. What happens when I watch the show is either nothing (most common; I simply get no indication whether the episode I'm watching is part of my canon), divergence (uncommon; I don't necessarily know how the events happened but I know for sure they didn't happen like they're depicted), or recognition (rare; realizing that things happened pretty much like they're depicted). The most apparent difference between my own timeline and the Prime timeline is that I found the Omnitrix when I was 13 and that I didn't get a break in-between the events of the original series and Alien F//orce. My first 1O aliens were also different from those of Prime and included at least one alien that hasn't appeared on the show (yet). There are many more differences, but most of them are subtle: I still have a relationship with Kai, but it's aromantic. I'm still friends with Rook, but we argue a lot. Azmuth is still the creator of the watch, but I have a sort of coworker relationship with him, more than a mentor/student relationship. And speaking of the watch, the Omnitrix is completely fused to me. My mind has affected its AI and its AI has affected my mind. We function more like a median system than two separate entities. We aren't ourselves without each other. I suppose my true fictotype is the fusion of Ben and the Omnitrix, rather than just Ben T//ennyson. [Here's something I wrote about it not too long ago.] As far as I'm aware, this also isn't a part of the Prime canon.

But this essay isn't supposed to just be about my canon. I'll have plenty of other opportunities to explore that. These pages are devoted to just exploring what it means to me to be fictionkind.

I've already mentioned envisage shifts and "possession" shifts (not a name I'm fond of, but there's so little terminology to describe parallel life experiences, let's just go with that for now). I also frequently experience phantom shifts, where it feels like I'm still wearing the Omnitrix. Those are easy to handle, though. I just put on a bracelet or cuff so there's a physical correspondence to the phantom sensation and go about my day. I also get the occasional chest/bottom phantom sensations, but I can't tell if those are Ben-related since I already experienced them prior to my awakening (and it's a very important part of my beliefs and worldview that all my Ben-feelings only began to appear after my awakening). I also get dream shifts, but since my dreams are pure nonsense, all they tend to involve is me being in Ben's body while going through wacky dream scenarios. If I'm making these shifts sound mundane, it's because they are. At least in comparison the envisage shifts and... by far the strangest and most disorienting shifts I've experienced: The mental shifts. In a mild mental shift I'll just take on a few mannerisms of the character, which can include anything from a chiller/more confident mood, to an inclination to play fighting games instead of my usual RPGs, to an urge to help others more than I'd usually do. Make the shift a bit stronger and I might want to go by Ben's name instead of my own or dress in clothes more similar to his. Turn it up even more, though, and we enter the weird territory. Something more akin to a berserker shift than a mental shift, using therian terminology. I've only experienced this once and it can't have lasted more than 5 seconds, but for those seconds I was fully convinced that I was Ben and I couldn't understand why I was in this foreign body and place. I've taken to calling it an "eclipse shift," since "berserker shift" implies a rabid or feral state of mind, which is not something you can really apply to a human(ish) fictotype, and the shift essentially involves my fictotype's state of mind eclipsing my regular state of mind. Here are some of the discussions we had in the community surrounding it: [link] [link] [link].

My fictionkinity is mainly marked by the aforementioned shifts and "flashalongs," but another trait (perhaps something that exists as a result of those two?) is dysphoria and euphoria. Typically when people think of dys-/euphoria, they think of it as something bodily. And I can't argue that that's not a thing for me too. I'm bigender and genderfluid, which in my case means that I have one static baseline gender identity (female hyena) and one fluid gender, which is most often bison bull, but can be anything – including Just Some Guy, which is basically Ben's gender identity. And when I feel like Just Some Guy, I, of course, experience dysphoria about my very feminine appearance. But that's a thankfully rare thing.

No, most of my Ben-related dysphoria is caused by the restrictions of my present body and mind. Did you know the nearly all versions of Ben T//ennyson have eidetic memory? Or that they have an inherent ability to understand astrophysics? Or that they're adept at half a dozen different fighting styles? I've got none of that. Sure, I could practice memory improvement techniques. I could learn the basics of astrophysics. I could take up martial arts. But every time I've tried, my own frustrations about being a beginner have prevented me from practicing. It's not that I'm a perfectionist and think I should be instantly good at every new skill. I've sucked (or still suck) at a lot of stuff that I do every day – singing, plant care, video games, you name it – but it's not an issue. As the saying goes, sucking at something is the first step to being sorta good at something. But with the talents Ben has... it feels less like learning a new skill and more like having to relearn something I used to be great at. With those subjects, it's like I loose my ability to understand or rationalize why I still suck, so instead of pushing on, I drop it all in frustration. I had just enough patience to understand the surface cause of gravitational time dilation, but once the lectures turned to the theory of relativity, I lost it. I've begrudgingly concluded that my present brain isn't built for that stuff. Until I develop a natural understanding of quantum mechanics, like I'm supposed to have, I'll just stick to my not-Ben-related studies in entomology.

Another thing I struggle with is the limitations of my present body. I feel like it's literally weighing me down. In my Ben life, my body is a construct of the Omnitrix that can be modified, dismantled, and recreated at any time. My consciousness isn't connected to my body; everything that's "me" is stored within the Omnitrix. My body is just a temporary vessel we – the watch and I – have created to interact with the world. It is possible to "upload" my consciousness to the body and for the Omnitrix to completely detach itself, but it's only been done a handful of times and only in life or death situations. And from what I can pericall it's deeply uncomfortably. Only with the Omnitrix gone do I notice how heavy the human body is. Without the watch I feel slow and sluggish and weak. And, in my present life, being able to pericall how I'm supposed to feel – lighter, quicker, stronger – and being unable to do anything about it because nothing can get rid of the heaviness of this body... it's exhausting. It's maddening. And it's not just the heaviness, its staticness is driving me crazy too. I'm meant to be a shapeshifter, and not just in my Ben life, but in my Ɐwhrayɐ life too. Whether due to the Omnitrix happening to attach itself to me, or because I was born with druid powers, I'm a shapeshifter in 2/3 of my lives. And to primarily exist in the life where I'm not a shapeshifter is torture.

But I have to live here. In the present world. I can't spend my life wishing I existed somewhere else. I have to be present; I have to make this life as good as it can be. Anything else would be wasteful. I can't fully get rid of the uncomfortableness of belonging to another world, but I can make this world more comfortable. Make it more like the world I belong in.

Part of me is grateful to have awakened as a character who is, in many ways, just incredibly mundane. The hero archetype is an exaggerated version of a trait I believe everyone is born with: A basic desire to help. Though his circumstances are extraordinary, Ben's motivations could not be more ordinary. So while there is some kind of disconnect between my present life and my Ben life, like our bodies and abilities and relationships, the melding of our minds has been quite harmonic. I feel like this awakening has helped me actualize some desires I already had by turning them into outright urges, and by dialing them up to 100. So, for example, instead of just giving money to the unhoused, I strike up a conversation with them now because it's what he/I/we're supposed to do. Helping my dormmate dry her dishes before she's even asked me to. Always asking others what I can do to help. And it doesn't just extend to people. I find myself, more often than I used to, helping a snail across the road or giving a neglected plant a second chance at life. Taking that extra step is slowly becoming second nature in a lot of my daily interactions. And I find that I do good more for goodness sake, where, in the past, I might've been prone to humble-bragging. (And it pains me to talk about my "good deeds" right now because it actually makes me really embarrassed to get attention for something I feel is the bare minimum of human decency). My awakening wasn't a total life changer. But it did reinforce my desire to be a helper and a caretaker.. a supporting character, I guess you could say. And it instilled in me an idealistic and unwavering belief that people are overall good, despite everything. That pain and suffering are accidents and that kindness is intentional.

I'm Ben. I carry that with me for the foreseeable future – possibly until I die. But I'm also Ɐwhrayɐ. And, most importantly, I'm Poppy. I'm multifaceted, like every other person on Earth. One of my facets just happens to be a fictional character.

#i have to get this essay out now or i'm gonna explode #i might edit it more in the future but for the time being it's Done #otherkin #otherkind #fictionkin #fictionkind #alterhuman #ben rambles

78 notes · View notes

wanderbreadsworld · 1 year

Text

Kenny x reader x Claudio

Prompt: Claudio and Kenny speak to each other in French, which the reader can't understand. They pass her back in forth, praising her, degrading her, all in a language she can't even understand.

Warnings: potentially garbage google translate lol, some praise, degradation in another language, smut ofc) Eiffel tower formation (it'll make sense, iykyk ;)), DP, M/F/M (male genitals touch, but it's not M/M)

A/N!!!! I recommend having google translate open while you read, it makes things easy to understand. Unless of course, you understand French lol. In any case, I hope you enjoy what lay ahead! Also @besthimbomachine, just in case you wanted to be tagged, I said I would!

Tonight started like any other night. Dynamite started, all building to the main event. Kenny was in his dressing room waiting for his match, and I waited with him. Nothing unusual.

Until.

During the main event, with BCC vs the Elite, there was a particular animosity between Claudio and Kenny, constantly trying to outdo the other, and singling each other out.

Backstage, their own fighting was putting me on edge. But, then the bell rang, and Claudio had pinned one of the bucks. With a sigh of defeat, I didn't realize that Kenny powered out of the ring, Claudio hot on his tail. It just looked like Claudio was going for another victim, so I didn't think twice about it.

But when I opened the door, two large men stood in front of me instead of the one I was used to. Claudio was right behind Kenny, both of their chests heaving from the run back here.

"Hi guys, awesome match. You gonna come in?" I wasn't sure who my question was directed towards, but they answered by turning to each other, a quick mumble of some french from Kenny, making Claudio nod and walk away to his own dressing room.

"That was odd. What's up with him?" I let Kenny pass. Immediately, he changed, letting both the men's strange behavior roll off his back.

Kenny shook his head, making a face as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

"He's been weird all night I think. I don't know. We should get back to the hotel before everyone else gets out. We have more Smash to play." Kenny poked a finger in my chest, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Since we've had our room, we've been playing Super Smash Bros with the Young Bucks. We kept winning, and I was talking big game about how I could kick Kenny's ass too (despite not being the worst player, Kenny was carrying the team), so now he wanted a match with me.

With a shake of my head, and a sigh of faux exasperation, I picked up my things to follow him to our rented car. The hotel was across the street, but there was no use walking, as we'd be swamped by fans.

The way back to our room was entirely normal, talking and bantering as if Kenny hadn't lost, wasn't exerted at all, like it was just any other night. I was beginning to wonder if something was up, but I didn't ask.

Kenny's playful nature kept me distracted as we took off our clothes from the day. Neither of us thought twice when I took one of his shirts from my luggage to throw on top of a pair of short shorts.

While Kenny cleaned up in the bathroom, he had me setting up Smash. It didn't take too long, even though I had to figure a few things out on the fly. I was about to get my ass handed to me if I couldn't figure out setting up the game itself.

Luckily I got things set up fully before Kenny was done. He would never let me live down not being able to get through the menu screen.

And when Kenny came out he gave me a warm smile. The kind that made his face look so soft and warm. The kind I fell in love with. But before I could tease him for "taking so long", there was a knock on the door. It wasn't totally odd for someone to stop by, but it still caught me off guard.

"Can you get that baby? Let me put a shirt on." I hopped up while Kenny threw on a shirt real quick. I hummed to myself, hastily opening the door because if anyone, I expected the Bucks to be there.

But instead, Claudio stood in the doorway, freshly bathed himself. My face scrunched in confusion at the sight. It wasn't often that Claudio played games with Kenny, and not usually on Wednesday nights.

I went to turn to look for Kenny, only to bump into his warm chest. All I could do was look up and back at him as his hands moved to sit on my hips, keeping me there for the moment.

Kenny and Claudio shared a look. The taller man stepped inside, Kenny pulling me back, so the door could close.

With the door shut, both men stood incredibly close. The only thing that broke me out of my thoughts was Kenny clearing his throat to grab my attention.

"I may have made a bet with Claudio the other night. One where the prize would've been your body for the night." A blush heated my face at his words and what they meant. So that's why Claudio was so eager to follow Kenny after the match. That's why they fought particularly hard against each other.

"The bet was one of us had to pin the other, but I can't go back on my word completely. So I told him I'd share. I should've told you first, but I knew you'd love the surprise." Kenny smirked against my ear before pulling away, standing up and pressing himself against me. His growing erection pressing against my lower back.

"N'hésitez pas à l'emmener au lit." His smooth voice easily switched to French. I wasn't sure when he learned, as he had never told me, but I didn't question. Nor did I get the time to ask when Kenny pulled away, Claudio swooping in and sweeping me off my feet.

The effortless way he carried me had me blushing and shivering at the thought of what else he could use his strength for.

As if a switch had been flipped, Claudio relaxed, turning back to banter with Kenny in French, all while keeping me in his arms.

"Sait-elle ce que nous disons ?" He asked, a smirk on his face as he looked at Kenny.

When my boyfriend shook his head, Claudio looked back down at me, tutting with feigned pity.

"Pauvre petite chose." With those last words, I was dropped to the bed below, squeaking from surprise.

Now the two men circled me around the bed, wondering what to do next.

Kenny made the first move, pinning my arms down. Claudio didn't leave any time in between to linger, moving down on top of me and pinning my hips down with his large hands.

I felt both of their eyes rake over me and the way Kenny's shirt lifted above my hips to expose my racy underwear. Their exchange of words above me went unnoticed, my focus entirely on Claudio's hands moving up under the fabric to feel up my waist.

One of Kenny's hands stroking my face brought my focus back to their words that I couldn't even understand.

"Voulez-vous qu'il vous utilise?" Kenny's smooth voice sounded, and I tried to make sense of what he was saying. My confused look earning a dark chuckle from him.

When Claudio kissed the soft skin of my inner thigh, and Kenny's hand on my cheek moved to my throat to squeeze lightly, I nodded, eager for anything.

"Please Kenny, need to you touch me." I asked him, but directed my words to both of them, to whoever would listen and touch me.

But his hand shot up to drip my jaw, forcing me to look at Claudio perched between my legs, waiting for my response.

"Tsk tsk, tu dois lui demander bébé." That fake pity was back in his voice, and it made me shiver with delight. Being their stupid little toy that didn't understand, and only wanted more. It was too perfect.

So I looked to Claudio, Kenny pulling his hand away. I opened my mouth, and my legs further to make room for him.

"Claudio, please. I want you to, need you to touch me. Fuck, make me feel full please." My voice shook with my pleas, needing one of them to fill me up, or do something.

Without another word, Claudio worked my underwear down my thighs and licked his way to my clit before sucking on it gentle, groaning to himself at the taste.

Kenny moved to the side more so he could take my hand and grind against it while Claudio worked two fingers into me.

I threw my head back, a strangled whine leaving my lips at the welcome intrusion.

"Si ça la rend comme ça, on pourrait la briser." Claudio teased to Kenny, both men chuckling.

Kenny moaned at my side as my hand provided him some relief from his nearly painful erection, reveling in his own pleasure before acknowledging the other man.

"Vous n'avez même pas vu comment elle est sur votre bite. Attends, ça va mieux." With Kenny's reply, Claudio stood, shedding his shirt to reveal his shredded body. It was large and attractive, but in a different way to Kenny. He was strong, and his muscles defined. But it wasn't Kenny.

Although I could still appreciate it since he's right in front of me.

Claudio slowly teased his pants and underwear down his hips, enjoying the way my eyes lingered on the veins that lead down beneath the fabric, right to what I wanted.

With one last tug, his cock was free as he proceeded to rid himself of the fabric of his shorts. I bit my lip when I met his dark gaze. He was a bit longer than Kenny, but not as thick. But the size didn't matter, I knew he was going to ruin me no matter what he had.

Soft lips pressed against my ear after Kenny shifted on the bed to lay beside me for a moment.

"Maintenant soyez bon. Je lui ai dit de ne pas être gentil, alors écoute. D'accord?" The lilt in his voice that told me he was asking a question prompted an immediate nod to me. Not fully knowing what I was agreeing to was turning me on more than I thought. What made it even better, was no matter what I knew I'd have fun, because Kenny would never do anything that I wouldn't want to happen.

With a small nod to Claudio, the tall Swiss picked me up effortlessly, manhandling and pushing me onto my hands and knees.

When he pressed his body behind mine, I wiggled my hips, wanting to entice him. It seemed to work when his hands smoothed over my back, pushing my chest to the bed and curving my back, before taking one hand away to tease his cock through my folds.

I wanted more, but I waited, being as patient as I could. Luckily I didn't wait long, because Claudio pushed inside of me slightly before making small thrusts to coat his dick in my slick.

The slow, but large, intrusion took my breath away. I didn't make a sound until he was nearly fully seated inside me with one last, harsh thrust. My eyes rolling back as I visibly shudder around and beneath him.

As Claudio found his own pace, slowly at first, Kenny moved in front of me. But I didn't pick my head up. Not until he caressed my cheek before Claudio's fingers found my hair, stroking my scalp before he pulled my head up until My back rested against his chest.

Claudio's voice sounding in my ear as I watched Kenny stroke himself, having gotten rid of his own clothing.

"Regarde-le. Il a laissé cela vous arriver. Tu vas être ruiné, petit agneau. Soyez une bonne salope et rendez-la heureuse." Before I could even try to think of what he said, I was pushed back down, only being caught in Kenny's arms, who pulled me into a deep kiss.

He swallowed my moans, biting my lip before pulling away and nodding, looking at me with a hunger I was so used to seeing.

Slowly, I kissed down his neck, nipping his collarbones lightly before kissing his chest and abs, all while Claudio continued to thrust into me. Although now he slowed to watch the way I worked down my boyfriend's body.

When I reached his cock, I sloppily kissed and licked my way up and down the shaft, silently thankful Claudio wasn't pushing me forward right now.

Kenny moaned, grabbing my hair in one hand gently to use as a handle to keep me there.

When I finally took the tip between my lips, he took over, slowly working his way further into my mouth, as far as I could take him before gagging.

I wasn't sure how it happened, but Claudio picked up his pace, rough and fast behind me, while Kenny let my momentum from his friend's thrusts to push my mouth further onto his cock.

Despite gagging occasionally, I let myself relax and be used by the two men. Sadly, right as I was getting into it, building my own pleasure, Kenny pulled me off of himself.

Instead, he looked to Claudio, sharing some more words in French. It was beginning to frustrate me that I couldn't understand.

"Why can't you guys talk to me? Please, I want to hear what you're saying?" I whined, tears of sexual frustration beginning to surface.

Without warning, one of Kenny's hands flew to my throat, choking me enough to make me let out a choked whimper.

"Nous parlons de vous. En parlant de ta stupidité, petit agneau. Regardez-moi." He pulled me closer to make me open my eyes before continuing. "Vous vous débrouillez si bien. Maintenant tais-toi et prends le reste." With his last words, Claudio's body left mine, and I nearly cried at the loss of being filled.

Claudio laid down, resting against the pillows and pulling me over to him. Kenny letting me go as Claudio whispered what I can only imagine being sweet-nothings to me.

I wasted no more time putting him back inside of me, eyes rolling back once more as I sank down onto his cock, slowly feeling full again.

Before I could move, Kenny's warm hands were pushing me forward, gently this time, until I rested against Claudio's chest. He took the opportunity to thrust up into me quickly a few times, just to make me squeak. I could feel his laugh rumbling in his chest.

That's also when I fell my boyfriends fingers prodding my entrance that was already full. What caught me off guard was when he pushed his fingers inside along with Claudio's length, working me open even further.

He went slowly, and Claudio held still for now, enjoying being inside of my warm pussy and seeing my faces as I lay atop him.

Everything he did led to his head prodding at my folds as well, slowly pushing past and working his way inside of me.

Never before had I felt so full. Each moan and whine that fell from my lips made him stop, and he only continued when I whimpered for more.

When he was fully inside of me, both men were groaning, cock's pulsing from the pleasurable pressure inside of my, now, extra snug pussy.

Once again slowly, Kenny moved, pulling back and pushing in, my juices being the only things making this possible.

The drag of his cock, along with still being full from the man beneath me, nearly sent me over the edge.

"Kenny, Claudio, please. I need to cum. It's so much, please." I cried out, clawing at Claudio's chest.

My boyfriend bent down behind me, lips to my ear once more as his hand snaked between us.

"Vous avez si bien réussi. Viens maintenant, ma chérie." With his words, the constant fullness and friction, and the way his fingers applied just enough pressure to my clit, I had the most earth shattering orgasm I've ever felt.

Curling into Claudio's chest almost violently as I shook around them both. Their own cum spilling into me from their own intense build ups.

Despite my clouded thoughts, I whined when they pulled away. Claudio smoothed my hair while Kenny went to grab a rag to clean me up.

The damp cloth made me jump, but I let him clean me up, despite wanting to pull away from being so sensitive.

Together, the pair of them clothed me again in one of Kenny's shirts, Claudio even leaving a chaste kiss to my forehead as I lay in bed. He said a small goodbye before being led to the door by Kenny, the two having their own small conversation, I imagine, about what just happened.

But before Claudio left, Kenny stopped the man, turning back to say one last thing to me in French.

"Maintenant dis merci." Knowing what "merci" meant, I figured what he wanted me to say.

"Thank you, Claudio." I said before I took a sip of water to wet my dry throat, not realizing how painfully dry it was.

He just smirked, nodding before he replied.

"Anytime." Hearing him speak in English almost made me angry I couldn't understand their earlier conversations, but I let it go. I'm sure Kenny would happily recount, and then relive some of his favorite phrases and moments.

Now, I rested, letting Kenny crawl into bed beside me. Without me realizing, he had grabbed two controllers, giving one to me.

When I gave him a confused look, he just laughed to himself.

"You said you were gonna kick my ass. Now prove it." All I could do was roll my eyes before he set up Smash all over again.

#kenny omega x reader smut #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega #kenny omega smut #claudio x reader smut #kenny x reader x claudio #aew smut #wander's wonders

14 notes · View notes