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chipistrate · 9 months

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Need you more than ever.

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A piece inspired by some tags under one of my posts left by @stillangelxx (sorry 4 tag)

Explanation and very long Help Wanted 2 speculation rambles under cut

This rough piece can be taken as just your usual "save Cassie" AU, because it was kinda inspired by that- BUT it was made with some of the ideas left by Angel in mind, which were basically; What if Help Wanted 2 was split POV between Gregory n Nessa, and Cassie- where Cassie thinks she's the good guy and Gregory is the antagonist in her POV, only for it to be the complete opposite. It just,,, became way more disconnected from Help Wanted than it was supposed to- but it'll probably make more since if you read the thoughts I had to flesh out the idea, which are right below the line-

Honestly this whole piece was made as an excuse to ramble about the idea and my interpretation of how it could go as a (current)believer that HW2 is directly after Ruin, but then it got way too long to just add in a reblog- so now we're here with an original post instead!(hope that's alright,,!)

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Wrote all this at like 3am so cut me a little slack if some of it is incomprehensible- I tried cleaning it up but it's still late so I might not get some points across right

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Basic premise: Split POVs between 3 star fam and Cassie, where the 3 star fam has minigames much more grounded in reality as they venture through the ruined Pizzaplex in search of Cassie, while Cassie's minigames are much more VR/AR based as she finds herself wandering the underground of the Pizzaplex, just barely having made it out of the elevator crash alive, and now finding it hard to distinguish reality from VR/AR. -------

Gregory and Vanessa POV ideas

-Gregory and Vanessa's minigames are more Ruin based, little sections of them trying to survive the many threats of the ruined Pizzaplex. Though some fall into more classic Security Breach territory due to VR/AR shenanigans - -Their "Glitchtrap" is M.X.E.S, and their "tapes" are Parent Nodes. M.X.E.S is not a threat in the same way Glitchtrap was, just a looming figure trying to guide them down to the M.X.E.S room and getting stronger the more Parent Nodes they reactivate. - -Their POVs main hub and select screen area is probably a cam station near the entrance of the Pizzaplex - -We switch between playing as Nessa or Gregory depending on the level and the gameplay can switch up accordingly. Sometimes we're Vanessa trying to protect Gregory, sometimes we're Gregory trying to survive on his own, etc. Freddy might also affect gameplay, whether that be for the better like being the thing protecting us in the minigame, or for the worse- like somehow accidentally bringing more attention to us and making the minigame harder.

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Cassie's POV ideas

-Cassie's minigames are MUCH more VR/AR based, way more centered on the past games, specifically stuff like Sister Location and maybe Pizzeria Sim. - -She's having a hard time differentiating VR/AR from reality - -Her POVs main hub is probably either the room with the elevator or the Mimics lair where she first encounters him(speaking of which I have no clue where he went here but he's gone for now(physically at least)) - -Her "Glitchtrap" could be Gregory calling out to her, an illusion of him created by the VR world that's almost always there in the "main hub", while the voice is actually him- the echos of his calls just barely reaching her and repeating in her head, being embodied by the illusion of him creeping around in the "main hub". He's being genuine with a concerned tone asking where she is, but she thinks he's trying to trick her- probably back to finish her off after she survived the crash. - -Not sure what her "tapes" are… maybe things explaining patient 46/GGY/Rab that only further her thinking he's the antagonist? - -It's kind of hard to tell where Cassie is irl in the heavily VR/AR minigames, but if you look close enough in each level you can piece together where she is and how she's progressing through the undergrounds of the Pizzaplex

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The game has three endings; It ends with 3 star fam and Cassie meeting up in the M.X.E.S room, and branches from there.

We can see it from either POV depending on what POV we're in when activating the ending. 3 star fam enters M.X.E.S room and go to turn them back on, when Cassie ambushes them, jumping out of the Mimics lair and confronting them, starting a tussle with Gregory. There's no boss fight, just different outcomes to the confrontation depending on a few factors;

You 100% complete Gregory and Vanessa's POV and activate the ending before finishing Cassie's POV

You 100% complete Cassie's POV and activate the ending before finishing Gregory and Vanessa's POV

You 100% complete both POVs before activating the ending

Ending 1. Vanessa reactivates the M.X.E.S before something bad happens and M.X.E.S intervenes. Whatever "intervenes" means is up 2 you cause I can't decide - Ending 2. Cassie gets the upper hand(maybe literally if she has the Mimics severed hand as a weapon) and wins the fight. Again, whatever "wins the fight" means is up 2 you cause I can't decide - Ending 3. Gregory is somehow able to convince Cassie that he isn't the antagonist before something bad happens and they make up, turning the M.X.E.S back on and exiting the Pizzaplex

And honestly? I can't see any of these being canon- They're just kinda basic outcomes to the fight, but I can't imagine any of them being canon and where the next game would theoretically pick up from- Most likely it'd be something like "Gregory and Vanessa make it out almost unscathed, but aren't able to convince Cassie to come with them as she's still so stuck in the VR/AR world and the idea that Gregory is a bad guy, and she becomes the antagonist for the next game with this game being the build up to her next appearance and a deeper dive into her as an antagonist" That's what I think would make the most sense at least!

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ANYWAY!!! UHM-

If you're here then- thanks for reading my rambles!! Saw Angel's tags and immediately my brain started going crazy, and this was the result lmao

Don't really know what else to say other than credit to Angel for the initial idea, anybody else who's reading this should definitely go show them some love because her art is REALLY good!!!

Also hype 4 Pax West lets fucking GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

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filipinosamflynn · 7 months

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Golden Son tier list + review! :D

These books are so fucking good, I want to continue with book 3 already. I have never read books this quickly, but DAMN that was good. You can see my live thoughts while I was reading from the tag "#sam flynn reads red rising", but here are my post reading thoughts below the cut.

Characters: 9/10, everyone served their purpose well and was great except for Antonia, who SOMEHOW still disappointed me.

Plot: 9/10, I have no clue if there was anything for me to complain about.

Personal Enjoyment: 10/10, I was unfortunately spoiled to 2 events within the book before I started reading, but I had so much fun regardless. I wish I had come in 100% blind :(

I have NO CLUE where to start. I guess I'll start with Fitchner. His identity as the founder of Ares was no secret to me when I came into the book, I strayed too far and accidentally got myself spoiled. Despite that, the reveal was still fucking brilliant. I'm surprised by how far he shot up in my tier list, from close to the bottom to being top 5. Wish he didn't die though 😭

Another character that shot pretty dramatically up the tier list was the Jackal. I knew he was gonna betray Darrow from the start based on intuition (thankfully not from spoilers) but DAMN HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO ALL THAT 😭 He's so sociopathic, I love that. I am no longer disappointed by him, and are excited to see what this little fucker has in store next! (Unlike with Antonia. Maybe I hyped myself up too highly for her, I expected her to play a larger role in everything but she feels so much like a pawn, it's embarrassing. She is my unironic least favorite character because of how plain disappointed I am in her, and it's not a fun hatred, it's a "oh she is here again. will she do anythin- nope. okay.")

Roque. Sweet Roque. I thought you were eh in the first book, just a cool voice for darrow to talk to I guess. But after the ending, fuck you 😍 I got spoiled by his betrayal, but honestly I saw his betrayal coming when Darrow kept being unable to reconcile with him. Either that or Roque dies, but uhhhhh I got spoiled anyways so it was going to be the latter. yeah I wish he had died instead of this! 🥰 but honestly and to be fair, yeah Darrow kind of deserved some of it for being such an ass of a friend, but:

Cassius went down the tier list because the gala fight was AMAZING but he doesn't show up after that again until the end, and that made me feel sort of hesitant? BUT HE IS CLEARLY STILL BEING SET UP FOR THE FUTURE SO HE BETTER NOT PULL AN ANTONIA AND DO NOTHING BUT BE A PAWN.

Sevro is half red, cool! I am so glad he's still such a lovable scamp. I got excited every time he showed up, I love him.

Darrow is still an amazing protagonist, and I am so glad we are past his angsty "I miss my wife" phase, but I can guarantee I will see more of it after the ending. At least I will be mentally prepared for the whump this time.

Mustang is at her prime here. The scene with her in Lykos was so... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH i fucking hope she returns for darrow because these two are awesome and they deserve all the happiness.

Oh yeah, the scene where they revisit Lykos? As I said in a previous post, it watered my crops and cleansed my skin. I am so glad we finally got to catch up with Darrow's family. AND HE GOT TO HUG HIS MOM AAAAAAAAAA- I hoped we would see Darrow talk with the rest of his family, but just everything about this was comfort enough. Rest in peace uncle Narol though. 😥 Even if the meeting with darrow and his mom was cut abruptly short by Kieran's kids, but my heart... 🥹

Ragnar spawns in and just gets to business, and I love him. I love stories where people raised for only one thing learn to break free of their mold (that's why i was so interested in this series in the first place). I think it's so iconic that every time he speaks, the text becomes bold, that instantly endeared me to him somehow.

Victra was good, but her insistence on Darrow was weird. Could be because I'm a hard Darrow × Mustang shipper.

That's all the characters I feel like talking about. Onto other things like the plot! The plot was SO much better than the first book. We're finally out of that fuckass academy and doing actual rebelling finally! I don't know what else to say, the twists and the plots were phenomenal. The fight scenes here are even better than the ones in the first book. Overall, y'all weren't kidding when people said book 1 was the weakest of the series because I am flabberghasted by how good this book is.

I don't know what else to say, all of this has just been rambling. Darrow better break those god damn chains at the end of it all.

#sam flynn reads red rising #red rising #golden son #tier list

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echoing-gravity · 5 months

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In the double legacy Au how do the gods, montera or Camp react to percies legacy? Does he meet any Northa?

In the Magnus Chase series it's said that Children of Norse gods aren't "detectable" to monsters and gods UNTIL they die. And since Sally's a Legacy of LOKI one of the Norse gods most commonly associated with like misdirection and like avoiding traps (not counting the whole ''i invented the thing that finally caught me'' thing. Please keep nets away from the Jackson family. its like their only weakness. Also Loki being the inventor of nets might have something to do with how Percy was able to host that one Egyptian god, in that one side story, who ALSO invented nets, but that's off topic) the gods just have like, no fucking clue about it. As for the whole legacy of Venus, it's so far down the generational chain that it's barely even noticable, beyond the whole ''singing-charmspeak-siren-powers'' which Sally has basically forbidden/scared?(unintentionally) Percy into never using. By the time anyone (Zeus, Ares, or other ppl who don't like Percy) realizes that Sally's and therefore Percy's heritage is cross-pantheon he's already won the favor of like- ALL the greek minor gods -(did you know that their are over 3100 immortals in the greek-mythos idk how many of that number are gods, compared to like primordials, titans, nymps, giants, and naliads but like that numbers' HUGE)- when he turned down immortality, has the begrudgingly support of Nico's dad, and has like literally saved the world twice. They can't do anything to them without like starting a war. Zeus is like trigger-happy one second from zappo murdering Percy but he CANT because Percy is the Darling. Everyone likes him now, if Zeus were to harm Percy he would have not only both his brothers to deal with but also LITERALLY everyone (minus maybe Athena and Ares) would be out for his blood.

Percy himself doesn't even find out he's a legacy until like after son of Neptune when Venus, says some shit and then his mom tells him what's up after he, Bob, and friendly giant friend get rescued from Tartarus: Ice Age Addition. to help with the final battle. (Speaking of battle Sally helps fight in the battle against Kronos in book 5, with her Seax Knives!(i remembered what her viking weapons was called!))

I have this scene in my head where like Alex Ferrari or however their name is spelt, comes to camp half blood like- 2 weeks post Dirt Fite, because she was told that they need a legacy of loki to help them complete a quest and that legacy was at the camp. and he's arguing with annabeth something like-

"Why would there be a Legacy of Loki HERE?!?!!?!"

"idk, but that's what THEY said"

Percy overhears this and is like 'No.'

'no that is nOt HaPpEnInG'

No you are not taking my mom on a quest when she is 7 months pregnant with his unborn little sister. And ends up joining the quest and that's how they find out cuz Percy asked Alex

"what generation legacy?"

And Alex is like 'why does that matter's and Percy goes off 'cuz either the gods want to force HIS MOM on a quest or they want to take a newborn and... Like...NO!!!' NOT HAPPENING. Percy rage.exe happens, there might have been an earthquake. Alex points out that Percy can just go instead. Nico is also their and ends up tagging along. He is still mad about the whole Percy saving Nico via 'distracting him with a kiss and shoving him in the elevator' in Tartarus thing. (Percy has been avoiding the subject, but now can't cuz they are stuck on a quest together) shenanigans insue.

#double legacy sally jackson au #percy jackson #sally jackson #nico di angelo #Percys already proven he's trustworthy to a majority of ppl and I'm pretty sure eboth camps would fight the gods for him #As for most gods/ppl the most common reaction is 'yeah I can see it' or 'oohhhhh' or ''....so Percy being Percy? Makes sense.''#Or if it somehow turns into a reading the books story cuz I am a sucker for those 'haha Rebellious Streak??? U mean obedience streak right?#Also I don't recognize the word montera my brain is blanking. It is. in fact. 3am.

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demonscantgothere · 2 years

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I feel like I need to get some popcorn because I just love reading everything you've post on Galadriel and Halbrand. LIKE YES DOOM SHIP DOOM SHIP!!! Ahem sorry Ill leave now !

Omg, let's be friends! I can't stop talking about it. Every Friday, I'm rushing to sit down and watch The Rings of Power like, "What clues will they give us this week?"

Halbrand is the only original character deeply tied into two huge Sauron-centric canon Tolkien stories, both Númenor and the title card story regarding the forging of the rings of power. No other original character has been pulled into the rings of power storyline but Halbrand now that he is going to meet the Elves, nor has any other original character been pulled into Akallabêth, the story of Númenor.

Not only that, but Sauron came willingly to Númenor as a prisoner in Akallabêth. And what happened to Halbrand when he arrived in Númenor with Galadriel? He was imprisoned.

And Sauron came . . . For he perceived that the power and majesty of the Kings of the Sea surpassed all rumour of them, so that he could not trust even the greatest of his servants to withstand them; and he saw not his time yet to work his will with the Dúnedain. And he was crafty, well skilled to gain what he would by subtlety when force might not avail. Therefore he humbled himself before Ar-Pharazôn and smoothed his tongue; and men wondered, for all that he said seemed fair and wise. But Ar-Pharazôn was not yet deceived, and it came into his mind that, for the better keeping of Sauron and of his oaths of fealty, he should be brought to Númenor, there to dwell as a hostage for himself and all his servants in Middle-earth. To this Sauron assented as one constrained, yet in his secret thought he received it gladly, for it chimed indeed with his desire. —J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, Akallabêth

Y'all, we literally already got that scene in the show. Episode three. Did Halbrand not humble himself before Ar-Pharazôn and Queen Míriel and accept being their hostage guest?

Boom. I can keep going. A red herring is one thing, but Halbrand's entire story is canonically Sauron's story, and they have crafted it very carefully on purpose.

Is someone gonna tell me that was an . . . accident in the writing room? Pfffffft. Are you gonna be there with me when this tag becomes Sauron/Galadriel? Because it's gonna happen. It's gonna happen. And a lot of people are going to be jumping ship like, "I didn't sign up for this!" and I'm going to be over here like Halbrand,

"This ship ain't going down! I'm coming for you!"

I know, I know. I didn't say, "I'll rescue you." Pffffft, he ain't gonna rescue her. He's gonna plot to kill her husband and try to figure out how to bind her to him always. Bwahahahahaha. I'm so here for it. We got front row tickets, baby, let's go.

I'm almost done with the Galadriel/Halbrand bedside bonding fic I promised yesterday. Unless it spirals away from me and gets more complicated because writing Sauron!Halbrand gets complicated like that with this warring duality he undoubtedly has going on inside of himself. "Oh, you're so pretty and fiesty. How cute. I must possess you." Ahem.

#galadriel x halbrand #halbrand x galadriel #haladriel #halbrand #sauron is halbrand #galadriel #the rings of power #rings of power #trop

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charmanderxerneas · 9 months

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(going to be tagging this as ruin spoilers but please dont comment any spoilers because we're not actually done with all the game. We've gotten 2/3 endings and are working towards the secret ending where you have to find hidden cameras while also replaying and seeking out the secrets we missed. This is seriously just insane ramblings aimed at no one i just need to get my thoughts out and suggest u scroll past.)

I seriously like. Am struggling to figure out the whole plot of ruin in an analytical story timeline sense. No i do not read or care about fan theories, i interpret the game and the lore by playing it and looking at all the clues myself thank you very much, so my interpretation of the lore is. different from most fans (you have to consider: very autistic, fnaf a Huge special interest for me. So when i analyze lore, i analyze as much as i can, every single secret. And i feel like a lot of people Miss main lore secret plot points. Im not trying to be a contraian, id love for the fans to have good theories. But like 70% of the time they dont. Or theyre dumb lil kids who blindly listens to mat pat)

my interpretation of sb is different from most fans and theories (mostly because I actually take help wanted and ar into account and can like. Use my brain to understand the differences between the vanessas (there are two. The murderer vanny, who we play as in help wanted, is referred to in ar, and is the one in the therapist tapes) and vanessa the nightguard, who's COMPLETELY unrelated and just an innocent nightguard who happens to have the same name and face as vanessa murderer (though it is also possible to me that like. Murderer vanessa chose to try to look more like nightguard vanessa in an attempt to shift the blame of her crimes, but we dont know this for sure.)and i dont think the therapist tapes are two different people because thats STUPID and it obviously is murderer vanessa (people just. Cannot possibly understand that a person being possessed by an entirely different entity might have changes in her prrsonality. Or that a person with anxiety might have something similar to selective mutism or at the VERY least: troubles speaking because of said murderer in her brain)

ANYWAYS THATS A HUGE ASS TANGENT. MY MAIN THOUGHTS AS OF PLAYING RUIN RN (Please dont spoil things for me im not completely done) is that mainly: i dont know who is speaking to us or who mimic is.

There may be two different people communicating with us with the vanni network (as evidenced by helpi changing eye colors and how like. Some of the motives seem conflicting?) Initially i was like "oh its glitchtrap or williams spirit or something." But that doesnt make any sense because glitchtrap gets Trapped and is worked against.

Even tho that was my first thought: i dont think mimic is burntrap, or william, or glitchtrap. But i dont know what it is, because there are no other obvious characters that it could be in mind (tho since its michaels old fnaf 6 restaurant theyre in, and we saw the blob down there, god knows it could be any number of old ass animatronics or spirits)

Another very fuckin obvious thought is: hey where the fuck is vanny. With the whole mask mechanic, the plot revolving around glitchtrap, ect, you THINK we'd see her st least once. And though she has a cameo in the bad ending which is clearly a vision/fantasy/trick, she doesnt actually appear. The INSTANT That we started this game i speculated: is she talking through helpi? The yellow eyes reminded me of an early sb teaser artwork where we see a close up of a vanessas face with striking, yellow eyes, and i was never sure the significance of that... But i dont think its related at all, as mimic seems to be the one speaking when helpi has yellow eyes. Is mimic related to vanny somehow? I wouldnt assume so.

Whats weird about vanny not being there is it makes it seem like shes not carrying out glitchtraps bidding, which is odd. Dont y'all come at me with that "Gregory helped her!" Crap, the burntrap ending is the canon ending so that never happened. It makes sense for her to be against him (shes never really been on her side, shes the RELUCTANT follower. She explicitly does not want to do any of the horrible shit, but shes beinf forved to) but i just. Gahh i cant figure it out

I WILL figure it out just you wait. I will figure out what my interpretation of the lore as so good as soon as I finish the game just you wait

#fnaf spoilers #ruin spoilers

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bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls · 1 year

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This... Is BGNN

Things you might want to know, for Feb 28, 2023:

Fury beats Paul on split decision in Saudi Arabia — Jesus H. Christ, Tommy… I was afraid you were going to let that giant blond turd beat your ass, and I was going to be deeply disappointed in you. Now go back to helping Molly braid her hair and stay out of trouble.

Penn Jillette: Did His Libertarianism Survive Trump and COVID? — You have no idea how relieved I was to read this. Penn has always been a personal hero of mine; I respected his general intelligence, abundant curiosity, and principled crankery, along with his ability to spin a clever yarn. So I am truly thrilled to know a man I admired in the ‘80s is still admirable today.

Elon Musk defends racist tirade by Dilbert creator Scott Adams — Of course he did. And he didn’t even defend it with an “outdated but sincere libertarian appeal to unfettered expression” argument… he went all in with some “the media knows I’m a corporate fantasist-opportunist and emotionally stunted fuckboy with a car factory wah wah wah thus I am a victim wah wah wah stop reverse-racisming me bro!” bullshit.

"Crying Indian" anti-pollution ad to be retired for good | Boing Boing — They should have come up with a better idea back in the ‘70s, but the shitty idea they came up with still made a positive difference in the world. I’m surprised to learn it wasn’t retired a long, long time ago, though… it shouldn’t have survived the ‘90s, at the latest.

Arnold finally comes to TV in Netflix’s FUBAR — I’m in.

A chatbot with roots in a dead artist's memorial became an erotic roleplay phenomenon, now the sex is gone and users are rioting — The impact of large language models on mentally precarious, profoundly isolated, and/or quietly resentful people can not be overestimated. They will find conspiracies in the boundless data. They will find lovers in the unfathomable synthesis. They will find God in the machine. Look the fuck out.

Coconut Kitty — OnlyFans Model, NSFW Influencer — Remembered by Family — Um, holy shit! I wasn’t a fan, but still… I’m shocked. Ironically, she died too young.

Popular zero-calorie sweetener linked to heart attack and stroke | Boing Boing — So, y’know… watch that shit.

Netflix’s live Chris Rock special will have celebrity-packed pre- and post-shows — I’m in, part deux.

Warner Bros. Discovery sues Paramount over 'South Park' streaming rights — There’s so much corporate lawyer fuckery going on in this story that I don’t even have a clue who’s in the wrong. Plus, it’s hard to care when billion dollar content empires are slap-fighting.

Study: Bronze Age remains in Israel show signs of trepanation — Highly Suspect Observation: many living and theoretically conscious girls in my vicinity show signs of having holes in their empty heads. I now await my Leakey Grant…

Snapchat launches ChatGPT integration, warns to not share your secrets — Thank Zeus, no one uses Snap to share incredibly private information!

Apple Working on AR/VR Headset Technology to Help People With Eye Diseases — The best accessibility tools can empower people far outside their target demographic.

Hitting the Books: Why America once leaded its gasoline

Twitter Blue head Esther Crawford is out at Twitter — I’ve had bosses who considered it their job to see me improve, and bosses who wanted to get everything they could out of me. They aren’t the same, even though the latter brand of dickbag thinks they are.

How Reuters used AirTags to reveal Dow's false recycling promises — I love cheap-tech solutions to previously intractable puzzles. It took a tag-sensing network the size of Apple’s and its economies of scale to make AirTags capable of this sort of investigation.

#news

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agent37 · 2 years

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Hello.

:?? < hi?

:33 < *ac wonders the identity of this chat furend*

;33 < *and is definitely not trying to get them to tell through subtle rping ;33*

...

You can call me Hal, if you'd like, Miss AC.

:33 < ok! :33

:33 < why are you glasses?

... Because.

:PP > *ac thinks thats a dumb reason*

30/30 (!!!)

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violettelueur · 3 years

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY FOUR || ACCOMPLICES

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru + nitta akari from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + mention of curses + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 22 may

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.5k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but….

↳ previous episode : the origin of blind obedience 2

↳ barista’s notes : so here we are for the final episode of season one of jujutsu kaisen for my series, it’s been a long journey since i started this in early feburary and now it is late may ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ wow times does go really fast, doesn’t it? well, i hope you enjoy this cup of special classic black coffee and prepare for the jujutsu strolls that are going to be coming soon when you ask for a bit of milk in your coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’.

Hakufuku : 10:19-10:32

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better…

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

SAITAMA URAMI EAST JUNIOR HIGH - 1ST YEAR

“Here you go, you’ll need this”

Turning his head to look up, Fushiguro quickly noticed someone standing over him with their hand stretched out in front of him leading his eyes to peer down, only to notice a bandage wrap within the palm of their hands causing him to turn away as if he was looking away in disgust.

“Here you go, you’ll need this, you drag,” you repeated with the insult causing an irk to appear on Fushiguro’s forehead before turning to look at you with an annoyed expression present on his face.

“Go away, I don’t need it,” Fushiguro mentioned with some hint of annoyance and irritation within his tone causing the same irk to appear on your forehead as you then turned your head to look at the pile of beaten bodies that were behind him - an unsightly common sight since you enrolled into Saitama Urami East Junior High.

Sighing out loud, you suddenly grabbed the back of Fushiguro’s collar and began dragging him across the floor towards the bench that was close by (much to Fushiguro’s annoyance) and threw his body slight causing his upper shoulder area to hit the wooden side of the bench which lead him to hiss in pain.

“I don’t need it~ well sounds like you do,” you teased in a nonchalant manner causing Fushiguro to give you a sharp glare only to see that you had no reaction to it. Reaching into your blazer pocket, you took out a box of painkillers with some plasters in different sizes and a small pot of ointment before placing them on the outdoor bench.

“Don’t bother your sister too much...okay?” you rhetorically asked your classmate before turning back to walk away from the situation since you knew Fushiguro was going to question you on your knowledge about his sister even though he - on the outside - never really took the time to appreciate her or showed that he cared.

“What a drag,” you commented with another sigh before stretching your arms down to release the act that was slowly creeping its way to your shoulders as some students began to exit out of the school building to eat their lunch causing them to notice you as you gave them a little wave.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Ever since that day, Fushiguro couldn’t help but begin to notice you slightly from the corner of his eyes as each day went by. At first, you sort of blended into the crowd in the sea of uniforms that was travelling around in the hallway, seeming to not want any attention from the teachers nor the students alike yet you seemed to somehow attract them leading you to offer the same small smile that he had somewhat gotten used to.

On the other hand, Fushiguro couldn’t help but get slightly annoyed at how your name was being called by the second, it was always “Y/N” this or “Y/N” that since you hated your last name being called. As in a matter of fact, he didn’t even have any acknowledgement or a hint of a clue of what your last name was at all. However, when you would say your name in your own tone, Fushiguro slowly began to notice how he then wouldn't get irritated causing a wave of confusion to hit him every time he would wonder why.

“Y/N, aren’t you going to participate in the elections for the student council, the teachers have nominated you?” one female student asked in a light tone causing Fushiguro to peak slightly over his arm as he was taking a nap for this lunch break, only to see you holding a book with a few other female students surrounding you.

“Nah, it’s such a drag...I don’t like taking responsibility for things,” you commented softly as you placed your thumb over the last word you were reading to keep a hold of your place causing the students around you to become confused before asking more questions causing some of your answers to perplex the erratic haired boy himself.

“I’m not good at organising things”

“I don’t have the time”

“I don’t like helping people”

“Liar,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath before closing his eyes again to fall into a quick nap while repeating the last words you had said to the students around you.

“I don’t like helping people”

If you really didn’t like helping people, then why did you help him a few weeks ago? As well as leaving some first aid kit items on his table at the end of lunch to restock shall he say? Sure, you had helped other people here and there from letting them copy your notes to little study sessions during lunch to help the other person concentrate but he was wondering why you would help a delinquent like him...but further yet, why didn’t you ask for anything in return.

“Y/N, I found you,” someone shouted, causing Fushiguro’s ears to spike up once he knew the familiar tone to the voice that decided to enter the conversation.

“I wanted to apologise for Megumi’s behaviour for the past weeks and wanted to pay you back for the medical items you had given him,” Tsumiki informed you causing Fushiguro to slowly open his eyes again to see Tsumiki’s arm outstretched with some cash within her palm while you looked down on at with a hint of disappointment in your face.

“Don’t bother your sister too much...okay?”

Placing your bookmark on the page you were on, you gently placed it down before folding Tsumiki’s fingers over the money she was kindly offering you as payment, leading her to give you a surprising expression since, with that action, she instantly knew you were declining.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to repay me...Just take care of him, okay?” you mentioned with a soft tone before smiling up at your senior leading Fushiguro’s curiosity about you to heighten up even further than it was at the beginning.

“I don’t like helping people”

SAITAMA URAMI EAST JUNIOR HIGH - 2ND YEAR

Walking in the school hallways, Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice how the gloomy and mundane weather was reflecting everyone’s mood as it seemed as if everyone had a lack of energy this morning and to be honest, he couldn’t blame them one single bit.

It was the day after, Tsumiki decided to attempt the test of courage at Yasohachi Bridge causing her to become cursed as she fell into a sudden coma causing guilt to begin eating him almost wholly as he took each step in the hallway.

From what he recalled, Gojo had mentioned that Tsumiki was somewhat saved by a cursed technique leading her to not become physically injured at the attempt of jumping off, yet that didn’t save her from the curse that fell upon her since the lingering reverse cursed energy that was surrounding her body wasn’t enough or effective on her and the other students that decided to tag along with her leading him to wonder who was the person that tried to save his sister and her friends from that night.

Suddenly, Fushiguro heard something drop from behind causing him to turn his body completely, only to discover a fallen student leading him to widen his eyes on the sight before crouching down to check the pulse of the person only to discover that they were fine, as he then processed to turn his head to the side where more students from the classroom beside him began to drop one by one leading him to become more panicked since this was just the day after Tsumiki’s curse.

Unexpatantly, Fushiguro heard someone beginning to run towards his direction causing him to turn his head once again, only to find you running towards him with a somewhat worried expression on your face as you began to look at each classroom to see all the students within them passed out.

“Fushiguro!” you shouted in a panic leading him to quickly stand up on his feet as he reached out to you so he could rush you out of the school building to get you to Gojo to ensure your safety. If you were able to help him multiple times, maybe this time he could help you as his repayment.

Grabbing your hand, Fushiguro turned to his feet to begin running but for some reason, you weren’t running with him due to the halt of his movements when trying to pull you towards the exit of the school.

“Y/N, what are you doing? We got to run!” Fushiguro shouted in anger as he turned his head to face you eye to eye, only to come into eye contact with dark but glowing purple eyes causing his body to slowly become limp as his vision began to become gradually disorientated as an illusion of purple cherry blossoms began to fall around the both of you.

“Hakufuku”

Suddenly, Fushiguro began to lose his footing causing his body to quickly fall, only for you to catch him in your arms as you slowly lowered yourself to make sure his body didn’t harshly hit the floor due to any injuries he had gained from yesterday’s fight as you laid him on his side.

“Sorry, Fushiguro,” you whispered with a hint of regret before rapidly standing back up to run the other way which seemed towards the school’s computer’s system leading him slowly turn his head as he struggled to reach out towards your direction before the same arm dropped completely while his mind began to grow blank while your figure steadily disappeared from his sights while his memories of you began to gradually fade as he tried to maintain them with such difficulty.

“Y/N…”

THE DAY BEFORE THE MISSON

“You’ve been reading those books for quite some time, you know”

Turning your head away from the book placed upon your lap, you discovered Gojo in front of you with a teasing smile on his face as his body was leaning on the side of the doorway he had entered from.

“Well, there are quite a few to go through,” you muttered as you turned your head to the other side to see two piles of stacked up books that were somewhat in equal height right now with one pile of the books that you needed to read while the other was the books you had finished reading during the past weeks since you had moved into the Gojo’s clan estate.

From what you could recall the day you stepped foot into Gojo’s house, he had surprisingly guided you into a room that was filled with bookshelves that had books comfortably sitting in its place causing your eyes to widen at the sight only for him to inform you that all that books had belonged in your name.

“All of them belong to me?” you remembered asking leading your adoptive father to giggle slightly at your confused and flustered state as you began to roam around the pathway the bookshelves had given you, only to land on a particular shelf that had books written from your clan to which seemed to be addressed to you.

“I see you found the books, your mother was really smart to lock them and make sure you’re the only person who could read them,” Gojo mentioned to you when he had found you staring at them leading you to turn to him with a perplexed expression only for him to further explain that whenever he tried to touch the weathered spine of the book he would feel an invisible barrier blocking his movements and even when he attempted to use his infinity, there was no use.

However, when it was you, it just seemed like a normal book due to how easily you pull gently and carefully pull it out of the shelf and open it, only for Gojo to comment that all he could see what blank pages yet sense the linger cursed energy that was coming through the paper-based artefact. While on the other hand, you were able to view the elegant black brush strokes gracing the paper which was slightly confusing since you weren’t able to fully comprehend the poetic and outdated Japanese due to how influential the Chinese language was during the Heian era.

“I can’t believe you are technically older than me~” Gojo teased while wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye, causing you to immediately snap out of your daydream to fully turn to him with a completely annoyed expression painted on your face.

“I DIDN’T AGE ONCE DURING MY SEALING, YOU DRAG!” you screamed in irritation causing the servant who was coming to serve you some tea to stumble slightly before regaining her balance as she let out a sigh of relief, leading you to deeply apologise to her before rushing up to your feet to help her on carrying the wooden, circular tea tray that she was holding on for you.

“I wish I got to see you grow into the woman that you are by the time you are reading this, but may you bloom into the sorcerer that you dream to be” - Your mother.

ꕥ

“GOJO! GOJO!”

Slowly, from the loud shouting that was going on, you began to groan in annoyance while opening your eyes to find Itadori and Kugisaki kneeling in front of you with panicked expressions residing in their faces before steadily turning into relief once they noticed that you were smiling at them.

“Good job,” you whispered to them before resting your head back on the tree you were leaning on causing them to smile brightly back at you before high-fiving each other as they shouted on how relief they were as they already had a fright when they discovered Fushiguro laying on their ground before trying to find you.

“Did you collect the finger?” you questioned your classmates leading them to all freeze in a panic since they didn’t expect you to know about the issue with the special curse that was lingering within the domain that you were all previously in. As a matter of fact, you had already sensed it a few moments ago as well those three years back when you were in middle school.

“Ah...about that...Itadori ate it…” Fushiguro muttered in embarrassment, causing you to look at him with a blank stare before turning your head towards Itadori, who was now looking at you with a ‘trying to be innocent’ expression on his face as he scratched his cheek with his index finger.

“Sorry, Gojo...It was an accident,” Itadori stuttered in a light tone, while you continued to give him the blank expression before hitting his head with the handle of your katana causing him to hold the area while wincing in pain as you began to stand up on your feet.

“HEY! YOU FOUR!”

Due to the sudden shouting, everyone head’s to shot up to find Nitta screaming at you and your classmates from above while waving her fist in such an erratic way, trying to emphasise her anger to all of you at this current moment in time.

“What have you four been doing? You wouldn’t answer my calls!” Nitta yelled, causing her voice to echo throughout the entire area causing you to wonder if anyone had turned on their lights due to the loud interruptions from their sleep.

“Oh, Nitta-san,” Itadori called out in surprise as he stared up at the irritated woman.

“She’s lost it,” Kugisaki mentioned, as she too was observing the shouting fit that all four of you were enduring right now.

“Well, shall we go home?” Itadori asked as he turned around to face you, leading the other two first-years to turn to look at you as well causing your eyebrows to raise up

‘Ah...I guess I did think about running away for a second....’

“Yeah, let’s go home,” you answered back before beginning to walk forward leaving Itadori and Kugisaki to talk about having Spendud Sushi as dinner while Nitta was continuing to yell at all four of you from above.

“I know as time passes, the more the Earth will push its fangs upon your shoulder and it’s completely my fault and I deeply apologise from the bottom of my heart. I knew the day that I was blessed with you that I desired nothing more than to give you the easiest route away from all the troubles the Zenin clan had put on us, away from the Jujutsu world and away from the loneliness that you will come face to face once I and your father are gone. I adore you with all my heart and want nothing more than your heart to be blessed with trust, happiness and comfort. Wherever you are, just know that I will always look after you, no matter how long I have to wait, I will always be the mother that I wished I could be for you” - Your mother.

ꕥ

“Why did you leave?”

Turning your head to the side, you found Fushiguro standing on the wooden terrace that you were sitting on with a stern look on his face while you just blinked at him before turning your head to face the garden with a book laying upon your lap as you tried a way to figure out how to bring up the topic that you tried to avoid since coming into acquaintance with the shikigami sorcerer.

“What do you mean?” you asked before closing the book in such a gentle manner, worried that you could damage more than it already was - even if it was such in a good condition after enduring itself for 1000 years.

“Why did you leave? Why did you erase my memory? Why did you go?” Fushiguro queried once again, as he decided to take a seat next to you causing anyone who would see both of you and Fushiguro to notice the contrast in your outfits. At this current moment in time, you were wearing a simple yukata due to being at Gojo’s estate - it was common/courtesy to wear traditional clothing - while Fushiguo was wearing a white jumper with what seemed to be black joggers along with some trainers causing you to come to the assumption that he had either can to talk to you or train with Gojo again like he did last time.

“I’m sorry Fushiguro...but I had to do it,” you answered before grabbing the cup of tea that was sitting right beside you as you then took a sip of the warm drink leading some of your nerves to calm down as you also took a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you stay?” Fushiguro questioned again in a low tone while staring down at the ground trying to compose himself as more memories of you began to steadily flow in.

“It was too risky,” you answered again as you continued to stare at the garden that was blooming in front of you before turning your head to look at your classmate, who seemed to be in deep thought about the response you had just given him.

“I never got to repay you back from the kindness you had given me,” Fushiguro mentioned as he turned his head up to look at you, only to make eye contact leading the memories of your technique to come into his mind.

“I don’t need a repayment, I just did what I wanted to help you,” you replied back as you placed your cup down onto the wooden tray before laying your upper body down on the terrace while your legs were handing off to the side causing your hair to splay across the wooden platform the both of you were sitting on right now.

“But you don’t like helping people,” Fushiguro quickly mentioned as he turned his head to face you, causing your eyes to move from the sky above you to the boy that was now looking at you with a somewhat small smile planted upon his face causing you to remember the conversation that you had with him and Kugisaki about not telling Itadori the reason why numerous amount of cursed fingers that have been popping up recently - making you come to the realisation that he was technically asking you and Kugisaki to help him keep the guilt away from the vessel of Sukuna himself.

“Yeah...I don’t like helping people,” you answered with the same smile as he was presenting you, causing a light giggle to arise from the both of you.

‘I’ll recommend them for a promotion later...’

“Whoever you fall for the sky for, my dear. I wish you nothing but the world’s blessing to fall upon the two of you. May all the flowers that come to bloom will bring you grace and tenderness that you deserve, the same feelings that I wish I could provide to you as a mother like how the sun gives you its warmth” - Your mother.

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grimaussiewitch · 2 years

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Clingy Duo MCC Team Ideas!

Posting here because I feel like the reddit would have my neck if I posted this wrong.

I’m posting it here on tumblr in a way I’m more comfortable and I’ve got no clue how I would tag this on the reddit so tumblr it is! :D

(Plus I have to really look into stats to feed the reddit but I’m far too tired for that)

I’m a big fan of whenever Tommy and Tubbo team with each other in MCC. In the last event we got to see them have a small interaction in parkour tag and well, this idea popped up. Enjoy!

Team 1: Tommy, Tubbo, Elaina and Eret

Tommy has teamed with Eret in the past and both him and Tubbo interact with Eret on the dsmp so the three already know each other. Ever since Elaina joined, I’ve seen people request that Elaina and Eret should team together and I agree! They are already close and it would make sense that the two will team at some point. (Although the two being on different teams have some funny moments lol) I do watch Elaina time to time and I believe she has the energy to keep up with the gremlins. It just sounds like a fun team with a lot of chaotic energy! Good vibes all around.

Team 2: Tommy, Tubbo, Niki and Dream

We didn’t get the Niki and Dream duo last mcc and probably won’t again. Maybe MCC 23 if we’re lucky. But regardless, this would be MCC 14 red rabbits again but with Dream who has teamed with the clingy duo before on separate teams. I just think this is a good team and if they worked hard, a Niki win with a clingy duo win? Yes please! I dunno, it’s just good vibes and it brings back some previous and new duos.

Team 3: Tommy, Tubbo, Shubble and Wilbur

What do you mean Tommy and Shubble haven’t team with each other yet? Anyway, Tubbo, Shubble and Wilbur have teamed with each other in the past so another repeat but with Tommy? I don’t think that’s a bad idea if you ask me. Plus you get some crime boi crumbs, Tubbo and WIlbur duo crumbs and the best of all, Shubble. I’m surprised this team has happened yet!

Team 4: Tommy, Tubbo, Grian and Scar

Okay, I know this team will never ever happen...BUT, its the vibes man. Last MCC there’s Tubbo talking about him watching Scar’s videos and there’s Scar entranced with Tubbo pressing a button over and over, again and again. It’s a good duo idea. Then there’s Grian and Tommy... I can never see the two ever teaming, but it would be funny! Plus, if you count Phil being in MCCP21 for a little bit, Grian would have teamed with 3/4 Sleep boi inc. And if you have Tubbo in SBI, it would become 5/5. It’s a team to never be but honestly, it would be funny and probably a strong team? If this wasn’t a clingy duo post, I would also talk about a potential Scar, Tubbo, Cub and Gem team but that’s for another day.

Team 5: Tommy, Tubbo, Phil and Marytn

Wait, this is just two philzas... or two inthelittlewood... lol. I think this is a possible team! A lot a green + Tommy, four blonde white boy mc skin, british, there’s a lot going on here. There’s not much too say apart from I think they can work well together and have a fun time!

Team 6: Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity and Fundy:

Chaos. That is all.

Team 7: Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Scott

I heard that the bench trio team will never become a reality because it’s hard to find someone to encase their chaos and crack energy. So I suggest the MCC organiser himself, Scott Smajor. This is a far too op team but if all star red rabbit could exists, this team is up there. They all know each other and have at lest team with each other once or more.

Team 8: Tommy, Tubbo, The Captain and BBH

This is probably the most random team idea but who doesn’t want a tubbo and cap team up! And I myself would love to see Bad and Tommy team up. The concept of the clingy duo not wanting to swear for the cap but then there’s swearing to annoy Bad (affectionate). Also I can see The Cap and Bad teaming up, they have the vibes, you know? It’s a pretty balanced team and they look like they could have a good time.

Team 9: Tommy, Tubbo, Jack and Slime

Chaos, chaotic and crack energy all around. I like the idea of this team. Might be a bit too op but It’s just a funny team idea!

Team 10: Tommy, Tubbo, Pete and Connor

This is just a joke idea. It’s far too powerful with Conner on. And with Pete? The server would break. Regardless, I think this could be a good team?

#mcc #clingy duo #Grim talks #dumb team ideas but hey! it's just for fun! :D #apollo do interact?

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bruhstories · 3 years

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Baby, I’ve Already got Your Heart

Summary: An accidental meeting between Armin and Y/N leads to an unhealthy obsession. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings: stalking, language, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), oral sex (female receiving), switch!Reader, switch!Armin, rope is involved. Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: This fic is heavily inspired by this song. It is surprisingly wholesome, considering the tags xD

Armin Arlert. The purest man in the world. You accidentally met him one cold, rainy day when he entered your coffee shop for shelter and warmth. He naively talked to you, grateful for how nice you were with him, grateful for the cappuccino on the house, grateful for the towel you offered him to dry himself off. Little did Armin know, a fixation sprouted in your mind and heart, developing into the unhealthiest obsession. He was just so cute — and you just had to have him. It helped to know that you were both going to the same university, and after that, you knew everything about him: his Facebook, Instagram, email address, hell, you even knew his real address. To be fair, it was a piece of cake, the boy was absolutely clueless and whenever he 'accidentally' met you, he thought it was by pure chance. The next and most obvious step was to befriend people in his social circle, one Jean Kirstein, one Sasha Braus and one Connie Springer. Naturally, you did your homework, and you knew his best friends were Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman, but they weren't easy targets. Besides, it would jeopardise your entire plan, as you found Armin was considered a genius. An oblivious genius. He didn't know it yet, but you loved him and he loved you too, right?

A text from Sasha, months after you first met the angelic man, set your plan in motion. A casual gaming night at Armin's place, and you were invited. How perfect. Poor glutton Sasha had no fucking clue how much you were using her, how you told her you want to meet a cute guy, someone nice and caring, someone smart and attentive. The girl put two and two together and decided she just had to introduce you to one of her friends, especially that he was also interested in meeting a girl like you. Unbelievable — you acted surprised, met up with Sasha and left for Armin's little gaming night. You wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Starting from tonight, he'd be yours. Forever.

"Armiiiiiiiiin, I brought a plus one!" Sasha barged into his house. "This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, Armin! Oh shit, pretzels!" The brown-haired woman left the two of you in the hallway and the blond flashed you a smile.

"I feel like I've seen you before." He mused as he closed the door behind you.

"If you ever drink coffee at Rose's you might've seen me there." You smiled and removed your leather jacket, revealing a Pearl Jam t-shirt.

"No way you listen to them!" Armin blurted.

"Are you kidding me? They're my favourite!" You lied through your teeth with a sickly-sweet smile.

"Mine too! Oh, I know, you're the girl who gave me a free cappuccino months ago!"

"I remember! You were drenched in rainwater." You laughed as the two of you entered the living room. "I had to mop up the puddles you left behind."

"I'm so sorry about that..." He blushed. Your heart fluttered and you couldn't wait to get your hands on him, but for the time being, you needed to behave.

"No worries, I just hope you didn't catch a cold." You assured Armin and sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. There he goes, blushing again. It couldn't be... was he a virgin? Fuck. This was better than you could've imagined.

"Who's this?"

"Oh, Mikasa, Eren, this is Y/N. She's friends with Sasha."

"Nice to meet you!" Eren shook your hand. "Oh, God, you listen to Pearl Jam, too? You nerds are going to get along just fine." He joked.

The night went great, and you actually had fun with Armin and his friends, despite not intending to mingle with them too much. People started leaving around 2 am, but Eren and Mikasa stayed longer. Too fucking long — and things were boring now anyway. You and Armin kept talking about video games and books, Mikasa fell asleep on Eren who was playing fucking Farmville on his phone. They had to leave as soon as possible.

"Hey, Y/N, we can take you home." Eren suggested and you froze. Shit.

"Didn't you say you're almost out of gas?" Armin questioned his friend.

"Ah, fuck, you're right. I still don't know how that happened — I fuelled the tank yesterday!" The brunette scoffed. "Guess you're on your own, Y/N."

"It's alright, I'll take an uber." You politely smiled.

"Alright, we'll wait for you."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Truth be told, you appreciated how nice and caring Armin's friends were, but you had a different goal to accomplish.

"You really don't have to, plus I have to use the bathroom." You excused yourself. "Um, where is the bathroom exactly?"

"Upstairs, first door on the right." Armin told you while gathering plates and cups from the table. You nodded and climbed up the stairs. Your hand hovered over the bathroom doorknob for a good minute, eyes drifting to the door next to it. Armin's bedroom, by the looks of it. Surely, you could take a look, right? Fuck it. You opened the second door and at first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. LED and fairy lights encircled a corner of his room and, curiously, you walked closer to see what that was, because it didn't look like a desk. Your Y/E/C widened when you saw tens of framed photographs of yourself on the square table, objects you thought you lost and — Jesus, was that your bra? A rush of anxiety hit you, but before you could do anything, a blow to your head blurred your vision.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

Dark lashes fluttered as you opened your eyes. The sudden realisation that you were naked and restrained to a bed made you jolt. What just happened?

"Fucking finally, I thought you'd never wake up." Armin greeted you, but his voice was different, deeper and darker.

"Ar-ugh, Armin?" You groaned at the stinging sensation at the back of your head.

"You know, I was relieved you didn't leave with Sasha, otherwise you would've slipped between my fingers again."

Again?

"Ugh, and Eren and his stupid idea. 'We'll take you home.'" He mocked his best friend with a high pitch. "I've been dreaming for this moment since I walked into that shitty coffee shop."

You were at a loss for words. This was not the Armin you fantasised about, not the Armin you wanted. He was much more and much worse. And. So. Much. Better.

Alright then, you'd put up a show for him.

"P-please, Armin, please untie m-me! I'll be good, I p-promise!" You stuttered and whimpered, trying your best to sound genuine.

"Why, so you can run away?" The blond scoffed. So, he didn't know you stalked him. What a twist.

"I won't r-run, I swear!"

"Bullshit." Armin bent over your body, hands around your neck. You gasped and pretended to be startled by his touch, but in reality, your core was already burning with lust. You knew you couldn't keep up with this charade. "No, Y/N, I won't untie you. But we'll have so much fun." He sneered.

"You promise?"

"Yes. Wait—"

Your laughter filled the bedroom, genuine laughter that baffled Armin. Was this some sort of reverse psychology trick?

"Oh, Armin, even when you reveal your true colours, you're still oblivious to the reality of what's in front of you."

"Then enlighten me, what am I so oblivious to?" He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"The fact that this was my fucking plan, too." You stretched as much as your restraints allowed you to and licked your lips. "I guess we both stalked each other without even knowing. How ridiculous."

"I think I would've known if you stalked me, Y/N."

"Really? Let me prove it, then. Your favourite food's Carbonara pasta, your favourite drink is peach and lychee iced tea, favourite movie is Interstellar, you lived on Sheena street until you were 12–"

"That's common knowledge, Sasha could've told you any of that." Armin blurted, growing impatient.

"You watch BDSM and asphyxiation porn between 10 pm and 11 pm every Tuesday, you're a virgin, you own a fleshlight–"

"Fuck, alright!" He threw his hands in the air, defeated. "So, what next?"

"You untie me and you tear me apart, Armin, that's what's next."

The blond hesitated before removing the cuffs on your ankles, still unsure about the ropes around your wrists. Clearly, you weren't making things up, but what were the chances of both of you stalking each other? For a brief moment, Armin felt guilty for hitting you and practically holding you captive, and you could see that on his face, but obsession and desire soon took over, and he reverted back to his darker self. His soft hands moved from your ankles to your knees, up your thighs and stomach, stopping above your chest, deciding it's best if you're not fully free. Armin licked his lips and climbed on top of you, unbuttoning his flannel shirt. You thought was surprisingly strong for such a thin man, but when the unbuttoned shirt revealed his chiselled abdomen, it made sense why he was strong.

"The wrists, Armin." You insisted but the blond clicked his tongue.

"I like you better when you're helpless." He pressed his lips onto yours in a hot kiss. A great kiss, you thought, your tongues wrestling for supremacy.

"Please, I want to touch you! I need to..." You trailed off, intoxicated by his smell, notes of saffron and cardamom. His hands roamed your shoulders, tickling your axilla and groping your breasts. "Please let me touch you, Armin!" You begged again, but he didn't say a word, his hot breath fanning over your oversensitive nipples, goosebumps all over your skin. His pink tongue poked out of his mouth and you watched him painstakingly slowly lick one of your nipples. It literally pained you to be unable to touch him, pull him closer to you. Alas, you had no choice, and despite yearning to be in control, it aroused you to have him control you.

"You smell so sweet." He abruptly stopped. "I bet you taste sweet, too."

"Armin..." His words made you brace yourself. While you weren't a virgin, you've never had anyone eat you out. The blond was already in between your legs, one hand resting under your thigh, the other gently touching your slick folds. Armin was so careful, like you were made of glass, and the ticklish sensation didn't help you at all. You wanted him to ram his cock inside of you and rearrange your guts, but he wanted to take his sweet time. The teasing only made you dizzy with pleasure, and you bucked your hips, trying to get him to move faster.

"You really need to learn to be patient, Y/N." Armin purred, pressing gentle kisses on your thighs. He lazily dragged his tongue across your slit, electricity shooting through your body. God, how you wanted to rip those ropes apart. Two fingers entered you and the blond gingerly licked your clit.

"Fuck– so... so good ah–" You couldn't form a sentence even if your life counted on it. Gradually, you could feel your orgasm building up and Armin sensed it, picking up the pace. His fingers thrusted harder and you arched your back, the intensity too much for you. "Armin, please! I wanna come with your cock in me!" The begging didn't stop him, he was determined to make you finish then and there. And he did — within seconds you melted under his touch, legs trembling with pleasure. Armin pulled back, his mouth messy with saliva mixed with your juices.

"You come when I want you to come." His voice was low, almost like a growl. He unbuttoned his jeans, and you watched him like a hawk, waiting to see just how big his was, and you were not disappointed.

"Please please please let me suck it, please!" You begged him, eager to taste him. He smirked and kissed you, all the while rubbing his cock.

"You want this?" Armin quirked a brow at you. The little shit, jacking off in front of you and you couldn't even do anything about it.

"Armin..."

"Say it. Say you want it."

"Armin!"

"Say it, Y/N." He groaned, precum leaking from his member. Fuck.

"I... I want it..." You eventually gave up.

"Good girl." The blond climbed back on top of you. He raised your hips and you placed your legs on his shoulder, his first thrust slow and deep. Armin couldn't help the moan escaping his lips — this was so much better than that shitty fleshlight and countless porn videos. You couldn't deny the fact that it hurt, despite your soaking cunt, but you quickly adjusted to his size. As Armin pounded you, the bed underneath the two of you started moving and screeching, and the ropes tied to the metal bedframe loosened and you felt your arms fall onto the pillows. In his frenzy, the blond didn't notice, so you took this opportunity to lower your legs and wrap them around his waist, one hand grabbing his soft locks, the other wrapping around his neck. You used his weight against him and turned him over. You were in control.

Armin was taken aback by this, but the feeling of your fingers squeezing his throat only turned him on more. You bounced up and down, throwing your head back and groaning. He gripped your hips tightly, thrusting his own hips against yours.

"F-fuck me harder, Y/N!" He begged and you sped up. You felt like a queen — no, a goddess — when he asked you to fuck him, the feeling of him inside of you so addictive. He was your drug, and your rehab, your poison, and your antidote. And you were his and his only. His cock was twitching in your cunt and knew he was close but you didn't want to risk it. Swiftly, you got off of him and wrapped your lips around his dick, bobbing your head up and down. It didn't take long for him to finish, hot liquid shooting down your throat with one final grunt. You swallowed it all and threw yourself next to him. It was breaking dawn already, but you weren't tired. Physically, yes, both of you were exhausted, but mentally it felt like you discovered a hidden gem.

"What the fuck did we just do?" Armin calmly caressed your hair as you nuzzled his neck.

"Are we talking about the obsessively stalking each other part or the part where you hit me in the head? Or the fucking?"

"The everything." He explained. "This is wrong."

"Did it feel wrong?" You asked him, your fingers idly tracing circles over his chest.

"Well, no..."

"Then it's not wrong." You shrugged. "Am... am I yours?"

"Yes." The blond instantly replied without a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Am I?"

"You've been mine the moment you set foot in that shitty coffee shop." You laughed.

"And what are we going to tell the others?"

"That we ended up talking all night and I stayed over?"

"Sounds like a plan." Armin kissed your forehead.

"By the way, I really don't like Pearl Jam." You admitted.

He laughed and it filled your heart with warmth. You have no idea why you and Armin were like that, or how things would be from now on, but you had a good feeling about it. Things were okay. You two were okay.

#armin arlert x reader #armin x reader #snk smut #snk x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #armin arlert smut #aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan #armin arlert

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anxiouslyfred · 3 years

Text

Forced Deception

Summary: Virgil has swapped bodies with his soulmate but keeps being told that couldn’t have happened and he has to do the job of his soulmate for the entire day. He doesn’t know who Janus actually is but he just might murder them for using the days absence legally required for soulmate switches up years ago.

Formatting Note: I just couldn’t cope with speach tags today, so you either have all speach with no narration, or all narration. Hopefully who’s talking is still clear enough. I think itis when I’ve reread bits.

Warnings: threats? Sorta self harm? if swapped bodies is telling soulmate to get hurt self harm or not? cause that happens.

let me know what warnings I should include cause tired brain doesn’t know.

/\/\

Of course Virgil had expected this to happen at some point. The soulmate swap was one everyone knew about and most places agreed that you could take the day off whatever your soulmates job was on the day it occurred. A lot of places had to insist upon it actually to prevent untrained people trying to muddle through a job.

His soulmate even had the number for his work stuck to the fridge with a snake magnet, although the list of names underneath it was a little confusing to notice. Still Virgil decided to try calling the line and at least get his soulmate marked as absent for the day.

“Hello, Integral Absence Reporting, This is Kathy speaking, how can I help?”

“Hi, yeah, I'm Virgil and have just swapped places with my soulmate. This number was on their fridge so I think they work for you. Haven't been able to find their name out yet though, just let me check the mail to see if its there.”

“Take your time Virgil, I'll just get that absence started now.”

“Okay, this says they're called Janus um, Ar-burit-ium? I think I pronounced that right.”

“Janus Arbertrum? Are you sure that's correct? My system is coming up saying he traded places with his soulmate 2 years ago and has tried to file it multiple times since then.”

“That's – that's what the post here says and I can't find any other bedrooms in this apartment for roommates to be in?”

“Just let me call my supervisor over.”

“Hello Janus. Have you decided you want another day off without using a sick day or your holiday as you should?”

“I'm sorry Sir, but I'm not Janus. I don't know what you're referring to. I'm Virgil.”

“Yes I know what you told Kathy, but it's not going to swing with me. Get into the office for nine as your hours dictate. Where did you even get the name Virgil from anyway? It's a ridiculous name.”

“I-I was born with it! I don't know what Janus has done claiming a soulmate day already but I am definitely not him!”

“And I don't believe that. Get in here ready to work or I will file those complaints with the managers above me and see you fired!”

“Yes Sir, and then I'll prove to you that I really have no clue what this job even is let alone how to do it because I'm not JANUS!”

Looking around the apartment he'd awoken in Virgil found his soulmates mobile but no note of the code to unlock it since whomever they were hadn't elected to use finger-print identification. Still he knew they'd be able to access his phone so he could use the landline to leave himself a voicemail. A very angry voicemail he intended to act on.

“You Bastard! I am being forced to go into your job with no clue what you do and no idea how to unlock your phone. If you want to get in touch fine, if not, I'm never leaving a way to contact you here.”

It was pure luck Virgil was able to figure out where his soulmate worked and how to get there on time, but despite his assumption people would realise once he was there that he didn't know what was going on, and that he wasn't Janus, everyone still believed he was.

Everyone except Thomas who was working on the desk diagonally across from him and began look at him in concern after an hour of Virgil attempting to figure out what he was meant to be doing.

“So you really aren't Janus?”

“What makes you believe that while nobody else does?”

“You're visibly 2 steps from panicking and Janus never looks like that even if he is. Usually his typing gets louder and he'll hiss his breaths but never actually appear flustered.”

“Great. Does he have any redeeming qualities because I'm struggling to see them through being forced to try and do his job today?”

“A few. He's the best for getting us the breaks we need and confronting management about overworking the team.”

“He can be the best at dealing with angry voicemails from his soulmate too.”

He'd come back from lunch about half an hour before a call came from one of the neighbouring desks that Virgil would previously have believed to prove his point. Nobody talking about it seemed to listen though since everyone was still very convinced that he was Janus and this was all some elaborate ruse as Thomas had mentioned his soulmate planning.

“Where's Janus? Apparently he's calling for himself!”

“He's at his desk, just transfer the call.”

“Seriously, transfer him. I'm going to scream.”

“No disturbing other calls. Even if you are calling yourself.”

“Keep telling you I'm not Janus.”

By this point of the day, Virgil was not going to back down on going through the soulmate swap and he was more than ready to tear into Janus. The only issue was he was still scared of actually ruining said soulmates life by acting out too much. Failing to do their job was fine, basically it was fair play given they made the situation Virgil couldn't get out of, but actively losing them their job was too far.

“Got your message. You definitely are a firecracker, aren't you?”

“Just been told I can't scream so here's a suggestion, throw yourself off the balcony.”

“But darling, we're soulmates.”

“And I'm having to figure out the entirety of your job alone because only 1 person doesn't think I'm you trying to get another day off. Balcony, throw yourself off it.”

“That would only injure you.”

“Pretty sure I'll have everyone understanding when I explain the guy I'm meant to be soulmates with thought having a self-care day more important than making sure his soulmate wasn't forced into a job they aren't trained for. Selfish Prick!”

“Virgil, it was just one time.”

“Say that to the list of names under the absence reporting number, also to the lady I spoke to when I called in who could see multiple attempts to claim the day. Oh, and your manager too.”

“Guess I can't claim they're the ones lying then?”

“Nope. You can however start planning an apology. To be set up once we swap back so you are definitely spending your money and not mine. I will be checking any purchases made today with my bank tomorrow so don't do anything to make me even less likely to give you a chance, will you?”

“Honestly, I had believed whomever my soulmate would be would just refuse to turn up after trying to call in. You really shouldn't have gone to the office today.”

“When the other option was getting you fired? I might be extremely pissed at you but I'm not going to mess my soulmates life up just because he's a complete liar.”

“Would dinner at a nice restaurant be apology enough, my love?”

“It would be a start but I'm not forgiving you for this shit easily.”

“Of course not. I'll see you when you get home Darling.”

That settled it, Janus was not only a jerk but a pretentious asshole, apparently going to break into their own home. So far from this swap into his soulmates body and life, Virgil liked Thomas best of all and was wondering why he had to be matched with such a bastard.

Even getting back to see Janus's apartment door already open didn't reduce just how done with everything he was, particularly when seeing himself dressed in the suit he only had because of a family wedding a year ago.

The living room had been rearranged almost entirely, two of the chairs now extended to be lounging with footrests and what appeared to be a massage table placed in the centre of it.

“Wow, this looks so much like a dinner out that I almost forgot people usually wouldn't break into their own homes.”

“I didn't break in. My neighbour keeps a key and we have a code on how to identify each other.”

“Great, now you enjoy whatever the hell is going on in here. I'm having a bath and barricading the door.”

“Virgil, come on. I know it's probably been a stressful day and I might be the last person you want to talk to but I am trying to make it up to you.”

“With what? A massage? Lounging in front of the TV? Dinner somewhere more pretentious than my families choice for fancy meals? Thanks but no thanks. Did you learn nothing about me just from how different our homes are?”

“Oh I learnt a lot back there. It's why I thought this would be better than taking you out. If you return my wallet I'll even get dinner ordered while you bathe. If that is your willing to let me explain the plans for the evening instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“Everything said about you and not said but shown by peoples reactions today shows jumping to conclusions probably gets more truth from you anyway. Even when it comes at my expense.”

Virgil cuts the conversation off there but does leave Janus's wallet on the armrest next to them while passing. He didn't know if he actually wanted to come out and talk to them again or not when the only desire actually in his head was to get clean and then bury himself in all the blankets he owned, none of which were accessible.

He'd only been in the bath a little while, wishing for music when he heard Janus come to sit against the door.

“I know you're tired and know I messed up, but success comes hard when judged for how you look. Perhaps I assumed people could be convinced, might recognise from my previous attempts for soulmate day lies that the first was the same when our genuine one came. I judged them too intelligent it seems.”

“This justification sounds pretty but is kinda weird to come while I'm in the bath.”

“True, but, Virgil, you aren't exactly willing to listen to me any other way are you?”

“Welll...”

“Exactly. I honestly did try calling here first when I got your voicemail, but I'd slept late and you must have left for work earlier than I ever would. It took a few calls before anyone in that office even humoured me being Janus and I bet they didn't actually. Did you get asked who you'd had claim to be you after getting off the call?”

“Um, nope.”

“You must've had an interesting reaction after it to prevent that then. I have actually trained to be a masseuse and thought a back massage might help you relax a bit more after seeing the anxiety medication on your shelves and a few other things meant to help cope with it. Aside from that helping you relax after whatever work you got given to do or figured out how to do will definitely leave you tense and needing a massage. Have you ever had one?”

“Never. What were the other plans?”

“Pizza and maybe sharing our favourite movies for the evening. We should actually try to get to know each other given whatever cosmic force determines soulmates thinks we go well together.”

“I can- I can do that. Do you actually have comfy clothes though? I didn't have time to look when I had to dress for going into your office this morning.”

“I'll leave some outside the door. The shampoo is the golden bottle.”

Virgil knew trusting his soulmate was the biggest risk he could possibly make. He'd thought when imagining this day that the worst thing was to live in a different city, or even country to his soulmate, but this morning he hadn't even thought about being able to meet them when praising the universe he was still in his city. He'd only been thankful he knew the roads enough to get to the office.

Thinking about it though, it wasn't that he wanted to trust Janus, but that he wanted to believe Thomas. Thomas had told him that Janus worked to improve conditions for their team and encourage their friends to take time to look after themselves and had even shared stories of how they would be kind even while denying it as even a possibility. Virgil wanted to take the chance on learning who that Janus was.

He sighed at the door, making sure he was covered with the towels before opening it to get the clothes.

As he emerged he only had one thing to say. “We're taking this slowly and you're going to have to show I can trust you because after today, I don't think I can.”

#anxceit #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #soulmate au

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duggardata · 3 years

Text

Jessa is Expecting Again!

She Also Suffered A Miscarriage Last Year.

On Thursday, February 18, 2021, Jessa (Duggar) + Ben Seewald shared (via E! Online) that they’re expecting a “rainbow baby”—thereby, announcing both an imminent arrival and a recent loss. So far, they haven’t revealed much data, at all... Read on for my attempt to analyze the few facts we do know!

When Did Jessa Miscarry?

According to the Seewalds, they suffered a miscarriage “last year”—i.e., 2020. Obviously, that’s not very specific...

Already, I’ve received multiple Asks speculating that Jessa might’ve miscarried in September, because of that Instagram Post where Spurgeon, Henry, and Ivy were wearing “Brother / Sister Bee” shirts. (At the time, many thought that the cutesy, matchy–match t–shirts would be used for a pregnancy announcement, especially after we discovered that the same company made a matching onsie saying “Baby Bee.” But, an announcement never came... Y’all’s theory is that the Seewalds planned to use the t–shirts for that announcement, but then lost the pregnancy.) It’s possible that this is the case; however, there’s no concrete proof, at this point. It’s just speculation. And, even if we knew that the t–shirts were intended to be used for a pregnancy announcement, their appearance on Instagram in September doesn’t tell us much about the Date of Loss. Was the photo from the day of the photo shoot, and Jessa posted it—not thinking we’d notice the matchy–match shirts? Did she miscarry before, and decide to dress the children in the shirts one day afterwards, randomly? Did she miscarry after, but before they publicly announced with photos featuring the shirts? We don’t know, at this point.

It’s definitely an interesting theory, though! Y’all have a good memory... I had totally forgotten about the “Brother / Sister Bee” shirt episode.

When is Jessa’s Due Date?

So far, the Seewalds haven’t actually said... They told E! Online (and TLC) they “can hardly wait to hold this little one in our arms this summer.” On Instagram, Jessa also mentioned that the baby is due in the “summertime.” Finally, and a bit more specifically, Jessa stated in a TLC–exclusive clip that she’s “out of the first trimester.” The 2nd Trimester begins in Week 13... So, from what Jessa + Ben have shared, we can confidently say that the Due Date is in Summer 2021 and Jessa is at least 13 Weeks Along.

Other than what they’ve said, we have one other clue, so far—the ultrasound / sonogram featured in the Pregnancy Announcement. And then, of course, we can always turn to the data for clues!

Let’s analyze all the clues, one at a time, starting with...

“Summer.” Seewald #4 is apparently due in “summertime,” “this summer”—i.e., Summer of 2021. As for when that is... It depends who you ask! Most of us, and meteorologists, would argue that “summer” encompasses all of June, July, and August, and that’s all. But astronomically–speaking, “summer” runs from the Summer Solstice (~June 21) to Autumnal Equinox (~September 22)—both of which are defined by the relative position of the Earth and Sun.

Which definition does Jessa use? I’d be tempted to just assume that, like the vast majority of people, she just means ‘June, July, or August.’ But, actually... Prior evidence suggests otherwise. When Jessa + Ben announced Pregnancy #3 (Ivy), Jessa said she was due “late this spring.” Eventually, they shared the exact Due Date—June 5, 2019. Astronomically, June 5th is ‘late spring,’ since it’s before the Summer Solstice; however, by the leading definition, June 5th is considered ‘early summer,’ since it is in June... So, maybe Jessa does use an astronomical definition, rather than just ‘June, July, and August.’

A Possible Due Date Range for ‘summer’ would be June 1—August 31, 2021, for most people; however, for astronomists, and maybe for Jessa, it would be June 21—September 22, 2021. Either way, this doesn’t narrow things down much.

“Out of The 1st Trimester.” On February 18, 2021, TLC released a video clip to accompany Jessa + Ben’s Pregnancy Announcement. In the video, about 5 Seconds in, Jessa says she’s relieved to be “out of the first trimester.” The 1st Trimester runs through Week 12. So, apparently, Jessa was at least 13 Weeks Along, when the video was filmed.

Since we don’t know when the video was filmed, all we say for sure is that she was at least 13 Weeks Along on February 18, 2021, when the video came out. Doing the math, Jessa’s Latest Possible Due Date is August 26, 2021. Sadly, this doesn’t rule out much the ‘summer’!

The Ultrasound. Jessa + Ben posed with a photo of a 3D ultrasound for this Pregnancy Announcement. This gives us a small hint!

Thanks to Google, Duggar Data discovered that there aren’t a lot of options in Northwest Arkansas, when it comes to getting a 3D ultrasound... Actually, it’s just two options—Babyface & More Ultrasound Studio in Rogers, AR; or Hello Baby! Ultrasound Studio in Fayetteville, AR. Jessa + Ben went to Babyface & More; the words “Babyface & More” appear on the top of the their ultrasound photo. (It’s fuzzy, but it’s there! Here’s a much clearer photo of a Babyface & More ultrasound, which isn’t Jessa’s, for reference.) (Note—Reference Photo was publicly posted on Instagram, with Babyface & More tagged. Identifying information has been removed, and the baby’s face has been obscured.) Per Babyface & More’s website, they offer 3D ultrasound starting in Week 14. So, we know that Jessa was at least 14 Weeks Along on the Ultrasound Date.

Okay... But, when was that? Well... Sleuthing regarding the Reference Photo reveals that the Ultrasound Date is listed in the top right of Babyface & More’s ultrasounds. (It’s not the Due Date, it’s the Ultrasound Date.) Looking back at Jessa’s... Unfortunately, the date in the top right is really, really blurry. Duggar Data thinks the middle number might be ‘25.’ That’s all I can say with any sort of confidence. I can’t make out the other two numbers, at all. Rats!

But, let’s just go with what we’ve got... Let’s assume that the middle number is ‘25.’ That could be January 25, December 25, November 25, etc. But, it’s almost certainly January 25, 2021. December 25 was Christmas; Babyface & More probably wasn’t open. As for November 25... That’s getting to be a bit too long ago. If Jessa was 14 Weeks Along on November 25, 2020, she’d be due by Late May, and that’s not “summer.” So... Let’s go with January 25th! Jessa would’ve been at least 14 Weeks Along on that date, which means that her Latest Possible Due Date would be July 26, 2021. We’re getting closer!

The Data. Ah yes, the data... My specialty! Here’s how far along Jessa was for public Pregnancy Announcements 1–3—

#1 / Spurgeon 86 Days Along (Due November 1, 2015.)

#2 / Henry 117 Days Along (Due February 2, 2017.)

#3 / Ivy 133 Days Along (Due June 5, 2019.)

Taking the average, it’s 112 Days Along. If that’s how far along Jessa was this time, her Due Date would be August 5, 2021. But you also may have noticed, she announces later and later, each time. It’s 24 Days later, on average. So... Let’s assume that with Pregnancy #4 she waited 24 Days Longer than she did with Ivy... That’d mean she announced at 157 Days Along and is due on June 21, 2021. The Seewalds will beat their record for Earliest or Latest Pregnancy Reveal if Jessa is due after September 1, 2021, or before July 15, 2021.

Looking at the Overall Duggar Family Data... If this Pregnancy Announcement was exactly–typically timed, then Jessa’s Due Date is August 23, 2021. They would set a new, family–wide record for Earliest or Latest Pregnancy Reveal if the Due Date is after September 26, 2021, or before May 17, 2021.

TL;DR. We really don’t know... Sometime this summer. Definitely by August 26. We need an Approximate Due Date, but we really don’t have enough data yet... I’m going to hold off on picking one, and on the rest of the data analysis, until we get more information.

I’ll keep y’all updated. Come on, Jessa! Give us some details!

#jessa and ben #pregnancy announcement #pregnancy loss #seewald 4 #due date

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swaps55 · 3 years

Text

This Hole You Left (Anderson)

Pairing: mShenko | Tags: Canonical Character Death, Grief

Post-Alchera.

This is a stand-alone scene from a larger work, but I’m very fond of it, so I’m posting it on its own.

Captain David Anderson stares out at the repair crews moving around the Presidium. Here, from the safe retreat of his office, it doesn’t look so bad. Scaffolding covers the damaged bridge. Debris still floats in the lake, turning the serene blue water a murky brown. The air circulators have almost cycled out the smell of soot and burnt alloy, but a trace of it still lingers. If he leans out far enough, the tip of the relay Shepard had barreled through using nothing but an M-35 Mako just four weeks ago is barely visible on his right periphery.

He doesn’t lean. Just as he doesn’t look at the datapad in his hand. Hearing the words come out of Joker’s mouth was enough. Seeing the helmsman’s face was enough. Anderson had remarked once to Shepard that he’d like to be there the day someone wiped the smartass off Joker’s face.

Shepard had snorted. Not me, sir, he’d said. If he gives up the smartass that probably means I’m fucked. I’d prefer my pilot remain an asshole at all times.

Shepard had been right, of course.

Anderson wipes a thumb across the corner of his eye. It’s all right. No one here to see.

They came back around for another pass, Joker had said, in a voice that was dull, dead, about as far a cry as you could get from the insubordinate ass who’d gone off on the stand in Vancouver just two weeks ago. Shepard had to be to blame for that display. Politics had never been his game.

We lost gravity right as he shoved me in the pod. Momentum from the blast…kicked him the wrong way. I didn’t see what happened after the door closed, but I didn’t need to. Drive core implosion doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Anderson’s fingers grip the datapad harder. No. It doesn’t. That doesn’t stop his mind from filling in the blanks anyway.

All Shepard’s training. All the hell he’d put himself through to earn that N7 designation. There couldn’t have been a person more prepared to live through the Normandy’s destruction. And in the end, the realities of space had still won.

At least it had probably been quick. Probably.

The door to his office hisses open. For a moment, Anderson expects it to be Shepard. It should be Shepard. That son of a bitch has been putting Anderson’s heart in his throat since he was fourteen years old, but he’s never had the audacity to actually die. Hell, the kid had taken a reaper to the face and shrugged it off.

Kid. Shepard hasn’t been a kid in a long time, maybe never really was to begin with. But to Anderson, some part of Shepard would always be that fourteen-year-old with the thousand-watt grin and a glimmer in his eye that usually meant Anderson’s heart was about to leap into his throat. The smile had faded over time, but not that damned glimmer. He’d last seen it right here on the Citadel, when he’d stood up from the table at Flux Casino with plans to steal the Normandy right out from under the Council’s nose. And Anderson had helped him do it.

This can’t be how it ends. It can’t.

A voice speaks up behind him, crisp, formal. “You wanted to see me, sir.”

His expression tightens, but he smooths it out before he turns around. Lieutenant Alenko stands just inside the door to his office, shoulders straight, hands clasped behind his back, chin in the air. Anderson can’t shake the feeling there’s an empty space next to him.

Probably because he’s never seen Alenko without Shepard.

Kaidan Alenko. Damndest thing.

Who do you want on your marine detail? Anderson had asked, after informing Shepard he was being transferred off the Myeongnyang and onto the Normandy.

You’re asking me?

I’m naming you XO. If there’s someone you want, just say the word.

Alenko.

Anderson hadn’t had a chance to blink before the name was out of Shepard’s mouth. Not another N. Not someone from the special ops teams Shepard had run when Anderson could pry him out of Captain Oseguera’s hands. He wanted the biotic from the ‘Yang.

Hackett was the one who’d argued for assigning Alenko to Shepard’s detail five years ago, when the dust from Torfan had finally settled. Anderson had thought it would be a mistake. Alenko’s file showed he could keep up with Shepard, sure. But Alenko embodied the kind of idealism Shepard would chew up and spit out.

If we’re going to put his mind right to get back on the front lines, he needs an anchor, Hackett had replied, with that calm, ice cold demeanor that has won him nearly every argument he’s ever been involved in. Alenko will do the job.

The old man had been right. Shepard didn’t get close to people, and that was before Torfan. But he’d gotten close to Alenko. Hell, Alenko probably deserves most of the credit for bringing Shepard back from the brink. Because after Torfan, Shepard had indeed been on the brink.

Alenko might be the one on the brink, now. There’s a look in his eye that Anderson recognizes, and it isn’t a good one.

“Sit down.”

Alenko shifts his weight. Not the sitting kind, then. Not today. Anderson’s going to take a wild guess that Alenko hasn’t stopped moving since the Marrakesh picked him up.

He sighs and remains standing, giving the lieutenant silent permission to do the same. “I thought you’d like to know we’re working with the elcor to get a salvage team to Alchera. We’re hoping they find the Normandy’s black box data. Be nice to get some clues on what the hell happened out there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hm. Brick wall is not Alenko’s usual MO, but that’s sure as hell what he’s talking to right now.

“Joker finished his debrief an hour ago,” Anderson goes on. “I assume you’ve heard his version of what happened.”

More shifting. The uncomfortable kind. Shepard’s done it more than a few times in Anderson’s various offices over the years.

“I haven’t, sir.”

Anderson takes a good, long look at him. He’s spent fifteen years worrying about Shepard. It’s never occurred to him to worry about Alenko.

“I see.” He exhales through his nostrils. “The Normandy was attacked by an unknown vessel. Whoever they were, Joker says they came out of nowhere. Shepard got him into the escape pod, but the ship lost gravity. He…well.”

Alenko stares straight ahead, silent. Anderson looks for a tell, but he only knows Shepard’s.

Alenko isn’t Shepard.

If this conversation is going to be one sided, Anderson needs backup. He moves to his desk, fishes a bottle out of a drawer that’s already half empty after being new just yesterday, and pours two glasses. He pushes one of them across the desk. Doesn’t occur to him until after the fact he has no idea if Alenko drinks scotch. It’s just one of the things Anderson and Shepard always agreed on.

“Have it if you want it,” he says, not up for bullying the lieutenant into a drink. “This is off the record.” He swallows half of his in one go, then heads back for the balcony. A few moments later, Alenko joins him, hands empty, still avoiding his gaze. There’s a chip in the brickwork, though. Not much, but something in his eyes wavers.

Yeah. It might be time to worry about Alenko. Losing two ships in the span of four weeks would do a number on anyone.

Except he doesn’t think it’s about either the Myeongnyang or the Normandy.

Anderson leans on the railing, gazing out at the wreckage of the Presidium. He takes another sip from his glass. “I’m sorry. I know he meant a lot to you.”

It takes Alenko so long to answer Anderson thinks he isn’t going to. But then some of the starch fades from his shoulders.

“He did.”

Anderson side eyes him. Had it been Shepard standing next to him, he might press. He could get Shepard to open up if he was careful enough. Sometimes.

But this isn’t Anderson’s business. And his own grief certainly isn’t Alenko’s business. But while most of the galaxy is preparing to mourn Commander Shepard, the soldier standing next to him might be the only person he knows who’s grieving for Sam. He swirls the remaining liquid in his glass.

“He was the most reckless SOB I’ve ever met,” Anderson says, watching a hanar drift along one of the intact pathways below them. “I’m pretty sure half the shit he pulled over the years was just to piss me off.”

Alenko raises an eyebrow ever so slightly in surprise, but doesn’t turn his head. “He’s always at his best when the plan goes to hell.”

“Since he was a kid,” Anderson agrees, not missing the fact that Alenko had referred to him in the present tense. “First time I ever laid eyes on him he was four. He’d wandered away from Daniel on Arcturus and he called in the cavalry to look for him. You know where I found him?”

Alenko shakes his head.

“In a fountain, playing with a model ship. I asked him what the hell his spaceship was doing in the water. He said, ‘I’m about to find out.’”

Alenko’s mouth curves in a brittle smile. “I didn’t know you knew him that young.”

“I doubt he remembered,” Anderson says. “His father and I were good friends. I dropped in on occasion while he was growing up.”

Before Shepard was a soldier. Before he was the Butcher of Torfan or the Savior of the Citadel. Back when he was still Sam, all knees and elbows, so desperate to please he couldn’t sit still.

Anderson still misses that kid.

“He said you kept an eye on him when they shipped him to Ares Station.”

Anderson huffs. “Told you about that, did he.”

Alenko nods, resting his hands on the balcony railing.

Then Shepard had indeed trusted Alenko. Only a handful of people knew about Ares Station and Guthra Tulak. Shepard had been one of five kids sent to biotically train with the krogan, and the only one to realize any potential.

Leave it to the Alliance to come up with a program even riskier than BAaT. Leave it to Hannah Shepard to volunteer her own kid to be part of it. Anderson always wondered if Sam knew about Hannah’s role in Ares, and how hard Daniel fought to keep it from happening.

To Hannah, Sam was a legacy. To the Alliance, he’d been a tool with astronomical potential. Someone had needed to look out for the actual kid. Daniel had tried, but.

Losing Daniel still stings. What would he have thought about his Spectre son?

Hell, Anderson knows exactly what he’d have thought. He would have feared this day, this ending, with every breath he took. He’d wanted anything else for Sam. Anything but this.

And Anderson had helped him become everything Daniel was afraid of. Hell, what choice did he have? You couldn’t dissuade Sam from anything. Once he was target locked on something there was nothing you could do but get as many obstacles out of his way as possible and hope for the best. So that’s what Anderson had done. Mentored him, advocated for him, taken a few hits behind the scenes on his behalf and cleared the path as best he could. Maybe you couldn’t take the target out of Sam’s sights, but you could guide his aim to make sure he hit it dead to rights.

“He’s come a long way since then,” Anderson says, wincing when he realizes now it’s him who can’t let go of the present tense. “I wish I’d been at the inquest. From the secure feed it looked like he put an entire roomful of admirals on their asses. Would love to have seen it in person.”

Alenko stills, expression frozen in place like a mask. Whatever nerve Anderson just touched is a big one, so he steers the conversation in a new direction.

“Though what I really wish I could have seen is what he found to gripe about being stuck in atmosphere. The entire time he was in Rio for ICT, he never once complained about the work. Wouldn’t shut up about how much he hated humidity.”

The fragile smile returns. “He hated going down a well without a hardsuit.”

“Know what almost kept him from qualifying for N1?”

Alenko shakes his head.

“Bugs,” Anderson tells him. “Not twenty-hour days, not hostile terrain, not crawling around in the mud without food or sleep. It was the bugs that damn near washed him out.”

A laugh escapes the lieutenant. It’s a rusty sound. “That…doesn’t surprise me.”

Anderson smiles at the memory. “He got over it. Made it through, like he always did. Wish I’d told him more how…proud I was.”

“You meant a lot to him,” Alenko says, so quietly Anderson almost doesn’t hear him.

The lump that forms in Anderson’s throat takes him off guard. “He had a way of affecting everyone he ever met. I forget sometimes it could go the other way. He made it so easy to think he was fine on his own.”

“He wasn’t.”

Alenko’s stare remains fixed on the view from the balcony. Not many people saw the side of Shepard that needed anyone. Even Anderson only saw it on occasion. Alenko was so far from the kind of person Shepard would let his guard down in front of, but clearly he had.

If we’re going to put his mind right to get back on the front lines, he needs an anchor, Hackett had said. Alenko had done the job, all right.

Problem was, it looks like that had gone both ways.

Anderson draws in a breath. Might as well get this over with. “I called you here to ask if you would speak at the memorial.”

It’s going to be a spectacle, the likes of which Sam would have hated, but the Alliance sure as hell isn’t going to be denied their PR opportunity.

Alenko shifts his weight. He’s so damn still. Shepard would be pacing the room until Anderson wanted to strangle him.

“Is that an order, sir?”

“A request.”

“Then I respectfully decline.”

Anderson finishes his drink. “Can I ask why?”

Alenko’s grip on the railing tightens. “The Alliance cares about the symbol. I cared about the person. I can’t give them what they want.”

Anderson can’t help but wonder what the lieutenant would have to say. Shepard was so many different things to so many different people. What, exactly, was he to Kaidan Alenko?

Why Alenko? Anderson had asked Shepard back on Arcturus, the Normandy’s hull gleaming and new out the shutters.

Shepard had thought a long time before answering, like there was too much to say and not enough words to say it.

Because he grounds me.

The older Shepard had gotten, the rarer it was to get glimpses of Sam. Sometimes Anderson wondered if Sam still existed, or if he’d been swallowed up by the mantle everyone demanded he carry. But that answer had come from Sam.

“Ok,” Anderson tells Alenko. “I’ll hand it off to Hackett.”

“Why not you?” Alenko asks, looking in his direction for the first time.

Anderson gazes down at his empty glass. Twenty years ago he might have thrown it against the wall just to watch it shatter. Nowadays he thinks too hard about the mess it would make, and being the one who has to clean it up. “Because I cared about the person.”

Heavy silence settles between them.

“You should take some leave,” Anderson says. “You’ve more than earned it.”

“I’m fine,” Alenko replies, but that haunted look is back.

Soon enough you’re going to have to stop moving, son, Anderson thinks. After Torfan, Shepard had hit the same wall Alenko is cruising right towards. But Alenko isn’t Shepard, and he isn’t under his command anymore. All he can do is give him a hand if he asks for it, and from the looks of it he isn’t going to ask.

Not that it would matter. Anderson’s got no anchor to give him that could replace the one he lost.

“Just think about it. And get some sleep.” He gestures towards the door, freeing the lieutenant from further torture. While Alenko makes for the exit, Anderson heads for his desk and the untouched glass. No sense in letting it go to waste.

Alenko pauses at the doorway and looks back over his shoulder. “Rain.”

“I’m sorry?” Anderson asks with a frown.

“You wanted to know what he found to gripe about on Earth. It was the rain.” He looks away without waiting for a response and walks away.

That empty space Anderson thought he’d been imagining when Alenko walked in feels even larger, now. Yeah. Shepard sure knows how to leave a hole in people.

#mshenko #kaidan alenko #mass effect #david anderson #trilogyappreciationweek #me legendary countdown #my fic

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op-peccatori · 4 years

Text

coup de foudre | MLQC Shaw/Ling Xiao (M)

Fandom: Mr Love: Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Shaw

Rating: 18+/Explicit/NSFW

Words: 5k

Summary: He hadn’t planned on getting sucked in, unable and unwilling to free himself. But they’ve all had their chances and now, it’s his turn.

coup de foudre (‘stroke of lightning’): a sudden unforeseen event, in particular, an instance of love at first sight

A/N: i have nothing to say. except that this was supposed to be a filthy hookup thing but I should have known better. please...don't look at me lmao

(tags under the cut)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, mild language, vaginal sex, ... minor electric play, please don’t try this at home, chapter 19/20 spoilers...ish

Rain-soaked bangs cling to a crinkling forehead, hanging over amber eyes squinting through the unforgiving downpour.

His heart pounds, tremulous and worried, within the confines of his chest–because of all the running, he tells himself repeatedly–as the heavy soles of his combat boots splash through puddles, drawing peeved looks from the people passing by.

Annoyance and concern twist and twine around his lungs as there’s no sign of that familiar face, the sparks on the tips of his fingers deadly in his urgency, and if he doesn’t find what he’s looking for right now–

The fates conspire as the thought crosses his mind, as if unwilling to draw his ire, and his path leads him to a park near Loveland University. There aren’t a lot of people nearby or in the park itself; he wanders in through the wrought iron gate, already thinking of turning back and going back to the cafe in the hope that you’ll be there–and then he catches a glimpse of the now-familiar silhouette, curled up on a bench, seemingly unbothered by the rain.

Drenched to the bone with your hair glued to your face and your clothes clinging to your skin in a way he tries really hard not to notice, you almost remind him of a lost kitten he’d come across as a child. Even the way you shiver is similar, although the way his body responds to you is very different.

You haven’t noticed him yet. Your palms are spread open in front of you, exposed to your unfocused gaze. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest as the thought of why you’re here comes to mind, so close to a man you should be staying far away from.

Shaw swallows the lump in his throat, mouth curving in that cocky way he knows will annoy you. With any hope, enough to wipe that miserable look off your face.

“There you are,” he calls, grinning at the way you jump and twist in place. Your eyes flash with immediate recognition and he’s near sickened by the elation that courses through him. You know him now, and that shouldn’t delight him half as much as it does.

It’s just because it would piss, well, quite a lot of people off.

“Oh, it’s you.” Your eyes, previously dull, spark with curiosity. “Shaw.”

“Mm.” There’s an umbrella clutched in his hand, one he’d brought along with you in mind, but it feels awkward in his grip now. He wants to open it and tug you closer, draw you into his arms and warm you up; he tosses the umbrella at you instead, trying to keep from shuffling in place as you stare at it in quiet surprise. “Y’know, I like parks as much as the next guy, but this isn’t really the kind of weather you should be out in.”

“More friendly advice?” you ask, eyes twinkling, and his mouth dries up. You sigh and open the device he so thoughtfully handed you. You don’t think you can get any wetter, but you might as well use it. “I know. I just...”

Visited Loveland Uni. Ran into Lu-Ares. You had felt so drained, so defeated, that you had, in all your wisdom, decided to stop by the park you had frequented so often with the professor by your side. It hadn’t been your intention to be caught in this rain.

“What are you doing here?” you ask instead.

He clears his throat, not wanting to answer or continue standing around here. But with your eyes fixed on him so intently, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of moving a muscle, let alone leave.

“I was just passing by. Saw you here, lookin’ like a drowned rat, and I’m just too nice to walk away.”

“Sure you are.” You get up with some effort, hating the way your clothes stick to you, missing the way he stiffens. You raise the umbrella until it covers most of him and you, stepping closer and steering your thoughts away from the heat you feel coming off him. “Well, thank you.”

“No problem. We’re friends now, yeah?” He watches you, your small smile, and the way it twitches before it crumbles, his heart lurching as you drop your forehead onto his chest. “You okay?”

He resists the urge to curl himself around you.

“Yeah.” His hand comes up to rest on your head. He had meant for it to feel like he’s petting a cute animal, but instead, he wants to take his glove off so he can feel your hair in all his tangled glory. He ruffles it gently, and your hand comes up to fist in his shirt. “...No, not really.”

“Thought so. Think you could go mope somewhere drier?”

“I’m not moping,” you grumble, pulling away, much to his disappointment. “But yeah. Mind walking me home?”

“Sure. I don’t have anything better to do, thanks for asking,” he drawls, taking the umbrella from you and drawing closer as you begin to walk out of the park. He’s overcome, just for a moment, by the urge to grab your hand.

It’s funny, he thinks. He’d thought the rest of them pathetic for the lengths they’d go to for you, the way they seemed to orbit around you as if you were the centre of their worlds. Even now, despite having no recollection of you, they aren’t impervious to your pull.

And neither is Shaw.

All he had planned on doing was to wait and watch, derive amusement from you stumbling around like a lost little lamb, help out whenever the mood struck him. But ever since that one time he’d sat next to you on the bus, watching you study him suspiciously, the way you had fidgeted when his jean-clad thigh pressed into yours–ever since then, a certain, dark hunger had taken root in him.

It was when he ran into you here, separated from your guard dogs, that he realized it was just you and him. For now, but it was still a golden opportunity to play with you. To touch you.

He hadn’t expected to be drawn in like the rest. To want you so bad it filled him with warmth on the best of days and burned him inside out on the worst of them.

“If you had anything better to do, you wouldn’t have come looking for me in this kind of weather.”

Shaw scoffs, refusing to turn his head and expose himself to your knowing gaze.

You know better though. Not with how often he seems to find you no matter where you are in the city. It’s something he has in common with a certain someone, and the thought has you aching with something bitter.

Your current companion may be a strange one but you can’t deny the relief you feel when he’s around; he’s the only person in this strange new world who remembers you, who knows things aren’t quite right. He doesn’t seem to care much, but you’re grateful for his presence nonetheless.

It’s with that thought in mind that you come to a stop. “I...don’t want to go home.” The silence had been particularly stifling today, prompting your escape, even if it was to grey skies and raging clouds.

Shaw studies you carefully, the stubborn set of your jaw and the quick flicker of panic in your eyes. You look like you expect him to mock and dismiss you, and while the former would be all too easy, he can’t dismiss your subtle request.

And living up to expectations has never been his style.

Saying no to spending more time with you? He’s not an idiot. He’ll take his entertainment where he can get it, and things around you are never dull.

“Alright. Wanna come over to my place?”

The words are out before he could rethink them, and he prays you don’t take it in the wrong way.

“I mean, we can find something to make you feel better.” Ugh, shut up, Shaw.

Would it be so bad, though–

Yes, it would. You’re not his to take. No matter how badly his mouth waters at the very thought of getting a taste, of sinking his teeth into your skin; no matter how often dreams of you shake him awake with sparks crackling along his limbs, his pants embarrassingly tight.

You agree without much thought, and he wants to scold you for it. You trust too easily, even after everything with that Professor.

“Come on, then.” Because his body and mind slip from his control whenever you’re around, his thoughts turn to the dream he’d woken up from last night, hard and throbbing with raging lust, fingers trembling as they were forced to his cock. He had still been half-asleep as he spilt himself onto his sheets, shame eventually creeping up his spine as his mind drifted toward awareness.

You’re oblivious to the turn his mind has taken, wrapped up in your own thoughts. You have so many questions, most of which you know by now won’t get an answer. But as he leads you up the stairs in a small building, you’re caught off guard by the thrill of anticipation building in you. Your eyes linger on the broad expanse of his back, the studded leather jacket stretching over his shoulders, the way his jeans cling to the round curve of his ass.

“I’m in the mood for pizza. There’s a great place nearby, if you’re cool with it. Oh, we could watch–“ He pauses just outside the door to 3B, fingers hovering over the keypad. “Oh, uh, give me a few minutes.”

With that he taps in the password and slips into the apartment, leaving you outside, perplexed. You wait in silence, realizing quickly that he hadn’t exactly expected to bring a guest along, and hadn’t had a chance to clean up, if that’s what he’s doing.

‘Maybe he’s hiding stuff. Clues to the current situation,’ you think suspiciously, before dismissing the idea. You’ve come here to spend time with a new friend, not snoop around. For the first time in what feels like ever, you’re not going to snoop. You’re going to eat pizza and watch whatever Shaw had been about to mention. You need a goddamn break and you’re going to take it.

The door opens then, with Shaw’s head still turned away as he appears to sweep his eyes over the room once more, as if checking to make sure everything’s in place.

“Right, come on in,” he steps back to let you through, glancing around the hallway before closing the door. You slip your shoes off at the entrance, looking around curiously as you step into the room, smiling gratefully when he hands you a towel.

His jacket is hanging on a rack at the entrance, leaving him in his shirt. His bangs are slicked back and there’s a towel around his neck, the beads wrapped around his wrist clattering as he dabs one end of the towel over his skin. It all makes an enticing, domestic picture, one that has you swallowing nervously.

“Nice place,” you comment, hiding a smile as you spot what looks like a pair of boxers next to the couch, pretending not to notice when he kicks the garment behind it.

“Thanks. Um, do you maybe wanna change?” Neither of you had considered your soaked clothes, and you feel like a complete idiot.

Shaw, on the other hand, has to tear his eyes away from the sheer fabric of your shirt, the way it hints at the tempting swell of your breasts. It’d be better for you both if you spend the rest of your time together in a sweatshirt.

“...That would be really great, thank you.”

“Wait here, I’ll go, uh, find you something to wear.”

You feel awful about putting him out like this, but he’s vanished through a door before you can say anything, and you focus on drying your hair. He comes back with a bundle of clothes and an endearingly nervous expression.

“I thought it might be better if you just shower, if you want to, I mean. I mean, do whatever, I’ll just order us some food,” Shaw mumbles, handing you the clothes.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting, you can go first,” you offer awkwardly, laughing weakly when he rolls his eyes and pushes you towards the bathroom.

“And that’s very gracious of you, but you’ll catch a cold if you don’t get warm soon, so go.” It’s more of a demand than anything and you can’t help the ‘yes sir’ as you shuffle towards the door. “Mushroom and cheese okay with you?”

“That’s my favourite!” you call back, closing the door behind you as you step into the bathroom. Placing the clothes on the counter, you take in the products scattered over the surface. Namely, the various types of hair products and perfumes.

Cute.

You feel oddly shy as you undress, mind swimming with scenarios involving Shaw stumbling into the bathroom somehow while you’re naked. You can almost picture the flushed cheeks he tries so hard to hide, the slight bobbing of his throat you’ve caught so often, and the way he tries to avert his eyes but fails. The thought of him pressing you into the tiled walls has you clenching, your cheeks blazing as you turn on the water.

You wonder if he’s thinking about you naked in his shower right now.

What you don’t know is how right you are, and how miserable it’s making him. Shaw has never felt the kind of shameful thrill that races through him now, as a part of him wonders what you would do if he joins you, if he sinks to his knees and licks into you like a starved, depraved creature.

You're out in ten minutes, smelling of his favourite body wash, and it takes everything in him not to bury his nose in your neck. That scent has never smelled half as good on him as it does on you. Your cheeks are still rosy from the shower, and he watches mutely as you wrap a towel around your head.

Then, with a smothered groan, he realizes you’re in his old sweatshirt and shorts, both too baggy and more adorable than he’d expected.

Fuck.

“I’m done! Thank you, Shaw,” you murmur softly, and he nods, dazed and dismayed at the thought of having to tighten his leash.

“You can put your clothes in the dryer.” He shows you to the machine, starting it for you before handing you his laptop, surprisingly you with the show of trust. “Don’t snoop around too much. You can’t blame me if you find something you don’t want to see.” With the taunt thrown, he turns on his heel and saunters off.

You browse YouTube for a bit before setting the laptop aside and curling up on the couch. It’s been a few days since you woke up in this reality, but it feels like forever. You had almost forgotten what safety felt like. And you can’t quite believe you feel that way with Shaw.

A mesh of stress and worry wound tight in your chest for so long, finally loosens a little as your limbs relax, and you nearly melt onto the cushion as you drift off, knowing you’re not alone, for once not uneasy at the thought.

He finds you dozing lightly, tiptoeing into the room, crouching down once he reaches you. The frown that had come to find a near-permanent place on your face seems to have almost faded, and his thumb comes to rub away the last traces of it from your brow.

Shaw’s eyes, lidded and intent, come to rest on your parted mouth, and yearning throbs hot in his belly. His fingers, helpless against the softness of your skin, trace the sharp bridge of your nose, your full cheeks, the plump curve of your lips. He’s so transfixed by the sight, fighting back the urge to dip his head for just a quick taste, that it takes him a moment to realize he’s being watched.

Caught, he locks eyes with you and freezes, his pulse quickening when he sees no sign of fear or distrust in them. Instead, you tilt your head the slightest bit and–his breath catches in his throat when he feels your tongue flick at the rough pad of his thumb.

Stunned, he can only watch as your mouth parts further to suck the tip in, tongue stroking it in an erotic imitation of an act he’s only ever dreamed of.

It’s when your lips curl up, amused by his stupefied expression, that he frees the digit from your mouth with a low pop and daubs the wetness from it down your chin. You don’t say a word but the look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know; he’s shaken by the way desire seizes him then, roaring and commanding him to take, to please, to wreck.

“You’ve had a bad day,” he tells you, hoarsely and weak in the face of his burning thirst, pulling his hand back.

“I’ve had a bad month. But I thought you brought me here to make me feel better?” you ask, blinking innocently as you rise up, leaning your weight on one elbow.

His low chuckle sets your nerves alight, as does the way his eyes can’t seem to decide between staying fixed on your eyes and mouth. “With pizza and Netflix.”

“Mm. You can just say no,” you say, even though you’re already leaning in. Your lips brush the corner of his and he sucks in a sharp breath, eyes sliding shut as he feels your breath on his face, warm and beckoning.

You must know that he–

“I can’t,” he breathes and captures your mouth with his. He can’t fathom a situation where he would deny you, when you’re ready and willing to let him in. When he’s been longing for this for so long.

It’s slow, a sweet claiming, relief and destruction bound together intimately. Any thoughts of resistance are abandoned, left in the dust for the exquisite flavour of your mouth. He groans at the slow drag of your teeth over his lip, shifting onto the couch to lean over you without breaking contact, tilting his head to go deeper, take more.

Satisfaction courses through him, visceral and grasping, as you turn onto your back, hands clenching in his shirt to pull him down from his careful hovering.

You’re lost, sinking into each other with every moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his finally tangle in your hair. His tongue slides along yours, and you’re overwhelmed by the desire to feel every inch of him, on you, in you, firm and warm.

“Good,” you gasp out, planting swift kisses along his jaw before he groans and crushes his mouth against yours again, intent on having his fill, knowing he never will; he will never get enough. His hand, splayed across your abdomen, slides down. He can nearly feel the coiled tension in you, desperate for him to unravel it, begging for his attention.

The doorbell rings, startling and shrill.

Shaw pulls away, breathing hard, the tips of your noses brushing. You pant lightly, a moan stuck low in your throat as you feel his hard bulge pressing into your belly. His desire is an unmistakable as yours; you ache to take his cock in you, your lust for him dripping from your cunt.

His amber eyes, glossed over as he fights to control himself, clear slightly at the second ring.

“I’ll be right there,” he yells in the direction of the door, before diving in to kiss you, hard and quick, all teeth and tongue, and then he rips himself away and staggers over to the door; your soft whine rings in his ears and chipping away at his composure.

He greets the delivery man with a strained grin, his mind occupied with the temptress he left on his couch. The man eyes him weirdly as he takes the cash, taking in the state of his hair and lips, eyes flitting over his head; he averts his eyes when Shaw sheds his pleasant demeanour, his expression edged with threat. He grabs the pizza, shooting a quick thanks at the man and barely restrains himself from slamming the door shut.

The haze of desire lifts. You’re probably hungry, and he needs to think.

You have other plans.

He’s barely left the boxes on the counter and turned around before he finds himself with an armful of determined girl pressing up against him, arms wrapping around his neck as you press your mouth to his.

“Ah, baby,” it slips out and he blushes at the low, needy sound that escapes you. “D-don’t you wanna eat-?”

“I want you,” you say, demanding and fierce and he doesn’t stand a chance. “Please, Shaw.”

His hands are clutching at the backs of your thighs before his mind can catch up, hauling you up until your legs wrap around his hips. A lazy grin splits his lips at the squeal that escapes you, that then melts into a moan as he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

He presses you into the wall and drags his tongue down the length of your neck, pleased by the way you shiver. “You need to be specific.”

His teeth sink into pliant flesh and the back of your head hits the wall, hips bucking up involuntarily. “Ah, I-I–“

“You want something, baby?” His hands knead the plump flesh of your ass as he sucks a blooming mark into your skin. “You gotta ask for it.”

He lets you slip down, just a little until you can feel him against you, just as desperate but better at controlling it, and using it against you.

“I-I want you to touch me, Shaw.” The heel of his palm slips between your bodies to press between your thighs, putting enough pressure that you grind your hips into it, desperate for the friction.

“Like this?” he asks, smirking impishly when you glare at him in frustration, pulling at his hair.

“More,” you whine. He laughs and adjusts his grip so he can carry you further down the hall.

“Tch. Greedy.” You nip at his earlobe in retaliation and his hands squeeze your ass in warning, this time as a warning–one you dismiss right away.

“I want your cock too,” you whisper, so softly he would’ve missed it if your lips weren’t ghosting the shell of his ear, your cunning tongue tracing the delicate skin. “I want you to fuck me, use me–“

The rest of your words are lost in a yelp as he throws you onto the bed, slipping his T-shirt off with one hand as he reaches for your ankle with the other. His abdomen, all taut muscle, his shorts resting low on his hips–you could run your fingers all over him for hours. The skies flash through the window, angry and eager, the rain still falling mercilessly, and you think it matches the look in his face perfectly.

“Careful what you wish for, baby,” he says in a half purr, his eyes dark with ruthless promise as he drags you closer. “I won’t be so nice if you tease me.”

His thumbs hook into the waistband of your (his) shorts and tug them down, only to pause, swallowing the sudden flood of moisture in his mouth as your glistening cunt is exposed to his ravenous gaze.

“My underwear got wet earlier,” you hurry to explain, nervous and embarrassed at the way he’s staring at you, his tongue darting out to wet his mouth.

“Your underwear isn’t the only thing-” He’s cut off by his own laughter as you kick him lightly in the stomach, attempting to close your legs–that he puts a stop to at once. “Now, now. I’m not complaining.” The foxy curve of his lips meets the arch of your foot, sliding across the skin over your ankle. He crawls onto the bed as he kisses his way up your leg, the tip of his tongue dipping into the crease at the back of your knee.

You can only watch in breathless silence as he nips his way up the tender flesh of your thigh, never breaking the meeting of your eyes. He parts your legs, fingers slipping through your slick curls to spread your folds before a long digit pushes in.

“So wet. Is it all for me?”

Shaw’s gaze doesn’t waver once and you throw your head back, cunt clenching around his finger and heart racing from the hunger in his face.

A second finger slides in, rubbing at your slick walls as you moan and rock your hips up. You glance at him, teeth digging into your lip at the sight of his pupils blowing wide as he looks at his fingers coated with your arousal.

“Look at you,” he growls, pumping his fingers faster as his tongue flicks at your swelling clit and you whimper and try to jerk your hips away. “Who would’ve thought you’d be such a dirty slut, begging for my fingers.”

With his other hand, he pushes the hem of your sweatshirt up until your breasts spill free from beneath it, the cloth folded under your chin. His hot mouth tugs at a nipple, nipping and sucking as his fingers stroke you to a slow ruin.

“Shaw.” You’re half cursing, half pleading and then you’re yelling in outrage as he slips his hand away. “You ass–“ But your voice dies in your throat when you spy him tugging at the cords of his shorts, yanking them down his hips. You can’t even call him out on his own lack of underwear, distracted as you are by his cock, by the way his lips close around his fingers as he licks them clean.

He lashes flutter at the taste, the little sample of your flavour rich on his tongue, and he vows to spend more time with his face buried between your legs, to grab a proper meal. His mouth waters at the thought of you coming on his tongue.

“You sure about this?” He asks, reaching into a drawer in his bedside table and pulling out a square foil.

You lock eyes with him and it hits you. You’ve got a lot, and nothing at all on your plate, you have mysteries to chase and thing to set right, because you’re in a reality where nobody remembers you. Nobody, except for this gorgeous, infuriatingly cavalier man standing in front of you, stroking his cock slowly and waiting for your permission.

You deserve this, damn it.

“Absolutely,” you respond with a touch of finality, rising up to your knees to reach for him, sliding the sweatshirt off as you go. His knee rests on the bed as your fingers wrap around his length, covered by his own as you prime him together, drawing the first drop of arousal from his tip.

He kisses you, once, twice, and then again. Your lips slide down his throat, placing sweet, wet kisses along the flexing muscle of his shoulders. Down and down you go, dipping your tongue into his bellybutton, smiling at the way his hips jerk.

You glance up at him and open your mouth, lips forming a wide O, tongue out; he shoots a prayer up before guiding the head of his cock in.

His fingers dig into the back of your head as you swallow as much of his thick length as you can, tongue pressing flat as you move back and forth along it. His thrusts are shallow, his scent musky as your nose brushes his unruly curls.

“Pretty, pretty baby,” Shaw growls, the sweet words warped and filthy as they fall from his lips, hands tugging at your hair. “You look perfect like this, with my cock in your mouth.”

Your moan vibrates around him and he stiffens, easing you off, plucking the condom off the bed and ripping it open.

“As much as I’d love to,” he mutters, pushing you onto your back, climbing over you fluidly. “You asked to be fucked, and I intend to deliver.”

He fits himself between your legs, kneeling between them as he slides the latex on. You can’t help but clench in anticipation, watching him position himself at your entrance.

“Last chance,” he whispers, teasingly. He isn’t completely sure if he can stop, if you do choose to tell him to. You look beautiful, your hair spilt across his messy bedspread and your eyes, vulnerable and filled with desire, waiting for him.

He slides the head of his cock along your folds and a shudder runs through you.

“Fuck me,” you rasp, eyes sliding shut as he slides in. Your thoughts, your problems, your loneliness–everything numbs and fades away. All you smell is him, sharp and heady. All you feel is him, his cock sheathed in you and his lips on your cheek.

“As my lady commands,” he mutters sarcastically, with a touch of sincerity as he grinds against you, drawing a sweet moan from you. Your walls squeeze him, hot and slick and possessive, pleasure sinking into his bones, scraping him raw; he will never let you go, now that he has you. It doesn’t matter which world or which reality you find yourselves in.

‘You’re mine now,’ he thinks darkly, greedily. He, who refuses to tie himself to any side, will bind himself to you so deeply you will never escape him. He will sink his claws so deep they would never be able to rip you from his grasp.

You gasp his name and the sound travels through him with a jolt; he thrusts hard, eager to see what other sounds he can draw from your lovely mouth.

Shaw tries to be gentle. He tries really hard. He’d wanted his first time with you to be sweet and slow, gentle and lasting as long as he could physically make it. But you shred any remnants of his control with the way you twist and writhe beneath him, meeting his thrusts with urgent rolls of your hips and moaning for him, so sweetly it threatens to unravel him.

Your whispers of how good he feels, how you never want him to stop, of please please please push him until he’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, riveted by the sight of you falling apart, your head thrown back and your breasts bouncing with every snap of his hips.

He can’t help it; his hand reaches for your cunt, fingers pressing to your swollen clit. The barest whispers of static spark to life on his fingertips, just for a second–your body reacts before your mind can process it, convulsing and twisting as he rubs tight circles, a scream tearing from your throat as he pins you in place.

Your walls clench him so tightly he nearly chokes, plunging into his own ruin as his pace falters, turning wilder and unmeasured, as he comes with your wrecked visage burned into his mind. Your eyes are wet, your limbs trembling weakly.

You kiss his face sloppily as he tries to catch his breath, drawing him in until his face presses into the side of your neck. He takes a long moment to breathe you in, the scent of sex and sweat intoxicating, his mind still consumed by you as he turns you both over to hold you close to him.

Your fingers creep up his side, and a mortifying, high-pitched noise of protest escapes him when you pinch him hard. "You better not have fried my vagina," you mumble tiredly.

"Chill. You're fine." It's not the first time he's tried it, but he wisely keeps that to himself. You snort, nuzzling his chest as a satisfied sigh leaves you.

Triumph courses through him, as does fear; he’s not one to lie to himself. This will not be a one-time thing. He will have you, again and again. He will stay by your side, regardless of what others will think or do.

His heart squeezes at the thought of Gavin. What would he think of the fact that Shaw has stolen you away while he remains oblivious, with no plans of letting go?

That is, if you’re on board.

In all honesty, he can't bring himself to regret any of it. They've all had their chances and now, it’s his turn.

You press your ear to the rapid thumping of his heart, not attempting to untangle your legs from his. You hum when he kisses your hair, turning to catch his mouth in a soft kiss. A low grumble breaks the tranquil silence, and you purse your lips when he turns to you with that familiar mocking stare.

“So,” you begin nervously, trying not to squirm. “Pizza?”

#mlqc #mlqc shaw #mlqc smut #mr love queen's choice #mr love: queen's choice #mlqc fanfic

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teawiththegods · 3 years

Note

Is it wrong to see the gods as parental figures? Like I’ve never had any indication from her having problems with me referring to her as mom or calling myself a daughter of her like sometimes I get warm feelings from her almost as if she enjoys it but I was wondering if that’s like taboo or something

It’s not wrong or taboo at all! It’s actually quite common for worshipers to see certain gods as their parental figures. I look at Zeus as my Divine Dad! And I know a lot of people who see Aphrodite and Ares as their parents. I mean Ares is The Professional Dad after all! (I had a post I made about this modern epithet I came up with but tumblr apparently decided it does not exist even tho I tagged it! but basically Ares is such a great dad I decided to make a modern epithet for him, The Professional Dad. So that can give you a clue on how okay it is to see the gods as parental figures!)

#Anonymous

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mithranqueersmusings · 3 years

Text

The Night Before II

Chapter: 2/15

Rating: E

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo hadn't been to this club for a while, without John by his side he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. There were only two types of people who dragged themselves to such a questionable establishment so late in the night: people so off their faces in need of a warm place to dance until they could hardly stand upright, and predatory figures looking for an easy target. Ringo and George didn't fit into either category, making Ringo question the distinction entirely, but he supposed a drink or two could get them well on their way. The two of them headed straight to the bar which was littered with a few figures who were struggling to hold their heads up.

"What can I get you?" George asked, getting his phone ready to pay immediately.

"Oh, um... A vodka-coke if you're offering." Ringo once again felt his nerves getting the better of him, part of him still couldn't believe someone like George was even interested in him.

"Gross, how do you drink that shite?" George curled his nose up in mock disgust but ordered one for Ringo all the same, buying himself a gin and lemonade.

With their drinks in hand they moved over to the sparsely populated dancefloor, the music seemed to be the same every time Ringo came here: 80s throwbacks and cringey one-hit-wonders from the 2000s. Not that Ringo was complaining, it was easy to dance to and he almost always knew the words, but it was far from his music of choice.

"You ever been here before?" Ringo asked, having to shout over the music.

"Never." George replied with a smile "Is it always this dingy?"

"Yes." Ringo answered instantly "But it's one of the only places open right now."

"Who says I'm complaining?" George laughed.

The two of them continued dancing through a variety of songs, both of them drunkenly singing along to 'Don't Stop Me Now' and failing to mask their excitement when 'Dancing Queen' came on. Several rounds of drinks passed their lips, each one decreasing the proximity between them as they danced. Ringo wasn't entirely sure who initiated it first, but before he knew it George's back was pressed up against his chest and they were attempting to move with one another without falling over. They were far from the only couple grinding shamelessly like this, but they were certainly the only male duo.

When another song finally ceased, Ringo found himself getting a little worked up from all the friction with George; his jeans were tight, his heart was racing and he was beginning to sweat. The only solution would be to get out to the smoking area for some "fresh air". Ringo moved his hands slowly off of George's body and leaned his face in closer so he could shout in George's ear. George evidently thought Ringo had other ideas, because he turned around quickly and crashed his lips clumsily down onto Ringo's.

Ringo froze for a moment, his hands thrown up in shock before he could register what was happening. It was far from the most romantic kiss Ringo had experienced, but the last thing he was going to do was complain. George was pulling at the fabric of Ringo's shirt to pull them closer together, his sharp teeth poking through occasionally. Ringo felt himself being dipped down by the sheer force of George and had to cling onto his neck just to stay upright.

The kiss didn't last very long, at least Ringo thought so but time was a difficult concept to grasp at this moment. George pulled away, pulling Ringo back up with him, a satisfied grin on his face and a dark look in his eyes.

"Been waiting to do that all night." George slurred, the satisfaction still clear on his face.

Ringo could feel himself blushing, luckily the club was dark enough to hide it "All night?"

George nodded "Was watching you with your mates for a while, couldn't find the courage to say hello."

"Why don't we, uh... Go for a smoke?" Ringo could hardly hear what George was saying over the music, and this was a conversation he certainly didn't want to miss.

"Sure thing." George followed Ringo as he maneuvered through the labyrinthine club until they finally got to the outside.

The wind felt far colder than before, no doubt it was because the club was so tightly packed and humid. A bouncer stood in the corner of the fenced off area with his arms crossed, eyeing George and Ringo as though they were about to cause any trouble. Someone else stood in the corner yelling down their phone, seemingly having an argument with whoever was on the other end. George and Ringo found some relatively dry seating and sat beside one another.

"How you feelin'?" Ringo asked, rather than sobering up the cold air was only making him feel drunker.

"Pretty good." George hummed happily, his eyes were barely open.

Now they'd gotten to be alone together, Ringo had no idea what to say. Looking into George's eyes he could hardly string a coherent thought together. At least Ringo could be certain that it wasn't just the alcohol clouding his mind, George really was something else. Even the way he dressed was attractive, a retro windbreaker with flared velvet trousers, the shirt underneath a mixture of colours and shapes.

"So... You were watching me in the club then?" Ringo asked cautiously.

George let out a hearty laugh "Shit, yeah... Me and my big mouth." He looked embarrassed for a moment or two "I was worried the guy you were with was your boyfriend, even after they left I was still a little too scared to come over."

Ringo chuckled at the thought, dating either Paul or John was amusing to him "What made you come over in the end, then?"

"Felt like I couldn't let you get away." George smiled "You looked so cool, I was certain you were gonna tell me to piss off."

"Me?" Ringo laughed "Not very likely. I'm a sweetheart really."

George leant in a little closer "Something tells me that's not the whole truth." The darkness had returned to his eyes, his lips curling up in a devilish smile.

"I'm afraid I haven't the faintest clue what you're on about." Ringo leaned in too, close enough to feel George's breath on his face.

A beat of silence passed between them.

"This place has got a toilet, right?" George's voice was almost a whisper.

Ringo paused "Yeah, of course. Why, do you feel sick or something?"

George let out a splutter of a laugh "Don't be daft." His voice grew quiet once more, making the hairs stand up on Ringo's skin "But I don't think that bouncer will like it very much if I start blowing you right here."

Breath escaped Ringo entirely, this was far from the first time that he'd been prepositioned in such a way but hearing it from George made his head cloud.

"Well?" George asked, cocking an eyebrow and widening his toothy grin.

Ringo stood up a little too eagerly, but he was past the point of caring by now. Grabbing George by his slim wrist he quickly guided them back into the dingy club and towards the questionable toilets. By this point in the night, one of the cubicles was already out of order and something somewhere had started to flood and pools of water formed around the sinks. It was a ghastly sight, but Ringo hardly noticed it as he pulled George into the furthest stall.

"Charming place." George remarked as he locked the door, luckily the floor was relatively clean.

It was cramped to say the least, Ringo put the seat down on the well-used toilet and sat himself rather excitedly down.

"It's dreadful, I know. But desperate times..." Ringo had no clue what to do with his hands, his head was swimming with anticipation.

"I hope that's not a dig at me." George replied as he wasted no time getting to his knees, it made Ringo sad to see his trousers dirtying with the muck on the floor but George hardly seemed to care.

George quickly got to work, his slender fingers pulling at the zip on Ringo's achingly tight jeans. Ringo let out a sigh of relief as the denim was pulled from his skin, pooling down at his ankles, he only hoped they didn't get too dirty but that was a risk he was willing to take. Next were the boxers, Ringo wished he'd worn a more presentable pair tonight but it wasn't long before they were being pulled down too.

Ringo hadn't realised how hard he'd become until he was staring right at his aching erection, a sight which drew George's attention too.

"Fuck..." George breathed, his hand tentatively gripping the shaft "For a short guy you've got a huge cock."

"I'll skip the insult and take that compliment, thanks." Ringo was struggling to keep his composure as George's slim lips wrapped around the head.

It wasn't the most debauched thing Ringo had ever done, he'd fucked a guy at the back of a club surrounded by overflowing dumpsters once, but it was certainly the most thrilling. George was acting like he was starved, as though all he needed in this moment was Ringo. With George's mouth working up and down Ringo's length, it was hard to believe they'd only met a few hours ago.

"Jesus." Ringo hissed when George lightly grazed his teeth, he swore he could feel George's sharp canines individually on his sensitive skin.

George hummed happily, taking more of Ringo into his throat. The world seemed to be spinning around him, Ringo had to push his hand against the cubicle wall to gain the slightest feeling of being grounded. Maybe it was his bias for George, but Ringo could swear this was the greatest blowjob he'd ever had. He wondered whether George did this a lot, the thought of that alone released a moan from deep inside him.

Ringo ran his hand through George's hair, it had started sticking together with sweat but he still managed to look good. George let out a quiet gasp at the contact, feeling the coolness of Ringo's jewellery was welcome.

George was quickening his pace now, each time being able to take more of Ringo into his mouth, his determination was certainly admirable, but he never managed to take him all the way. Each time he gagged around the thickness, Ringo couldn't stop the moans from pouring out of his mouth.

"Fucking hell, George..." Ringo panted, gripping tightly at his hair "Your mouth feels incredible, just wanna fuck up into it."

The sound that left George's mouth was purely criminal, groaning with his mouth filled with cock. He looked up into Ringo's eyes with a hungry twinkle, it was all the permission Ringo needed to start thrusting upwards. At first he was cautious, testing the waters as he felt George's throat relaxing around him but soon enough he grew sloppy and erratic.

Everything seemed to fade into the background, all that was left was the sensation of George's hot mouth and the wanton noises he was making. The sounds were obscene, wet slapping of skin on skin, George gagging and moaning.

"Shit, shit... I'm getting close." Ringo announced, he could hardly see straight.

George didn't wait for another word, he pinned Ringo's hips down to the seat forcefully and sank his lips all the way down to the base. Hollowing his cheeks and gagging loudly, Ringo came in an instant, shooting down deep into George's throat. It took Ringo a few moments to recover, still gripping at George's hair tightly.

Pulling off suddenly, George licked his lips and swallowed hard. It was purely pornographic, the way he smiled with specks of cum still visible. Ringo couldn't help himself from rubbing his thumb tenderly on George's smooth cheek, he worried it would be too intimate of a gesture but he didn't seem to mind, instead he pressed his face into the hand.

Reluctantly Ringo pulled the hand away, then passed what was left of a toilet roll over to George so he could clean himself up. George accepted it willingly, standing up and assessing the damage of his trousers which weren't as bad as either one had anticipated, although it was pretty clear what he'd been getting up to.

"Sorry about your trousers." Ringo said hoarsely, pulling up his own jeans and shuddering at the wet sensation against his skin.

"Don't worry about it." George's voice was even more wrecked "Worth it."

Ringo laughed nervously, even after all that he still couldn't help the effect George had on him. He could barely stand, his knees were far too shaky. George looked beyond satisfied, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed.

"So... What say we head back to yours?" George asked with a grin, despite all the exertion he was still eager.

"I say the Uber can't get here fast enough." Ringo smirked, managing to get up to his feet to kiss George deeply.

He could taste his cum on George's tongue, mingled with alcohol and smoke. Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment, but he could've sworn it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

#Beatles #the beatles #beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #George Harrison/Ringo Starr #george harrisonxreader #george harrisonxringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #starrison #starrison smut

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