#miceenscene

[skinnyazn]

Hehehe I’m Shakarian trash, but only because @miceenscene keeps writing good fics! Enlarge for better detail.

Read their fun, smutty medieval-y role play fic here.

[persephinae]

@miceenscene 😂

[dwarrowdams]

26. I want you to ruin me

Shakarian style babyyyyy!

I promise I didn't forget about you! I just wanted to find the right place for this and it took a while.

Note: this is set in my princess/bodyguard AU, hence Garrus referring to Liv as "Princess"

After years of waiting for Liv, of pining after her with little hope of reciprocation, Garrus had expected a few hours of waiting to be much more manageable.

In his defense, those few hours had been filled with teasing looks and all-too innocent touches from Liv, all while her earlier statement echoed through his mind.

You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined sucking you off.

He managed to make it through the luncheon and up to their chambers, but only barely: as soon as the door locked behind them, he pulled her close, sliding a hand up her shirt.

“I hope you don’t plan on teasing me like that every day, Princess.”

Liv blinked innocently.  “Of course not,” she said.  “Some days, I’m gonna tease you a lot more.”

Garrus was working on a response to that when Liv deftly unfastened his trousers and began teasing his slit, her fingers working with the same easy finesse that he’d seen in other contexts.  He leaned against the wall to steady himself as she touched him, one hand on his slit as the other slid up to tease his waist.  He reached for her again, tugging gently at the hem of her shirt.

“Princess, this feels incredible, but I want to see you,” he said, the request coming out with more desperation than he’d intended.

“You too,” she said as she moved away, pulling off her top with the same fluid motion.  “Undress and sit on the bed for me.”

He’d heard her give commands in her official capacity dozens of times, but this felt wholly different: softer, with the slightest hint of vulnerability.  He complied, watching as she shed her clothes and made her way to the bed.

She sank to her knees before him, flicking her hair out of her eyes.  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she murmured as she nudged his legs further apart.  “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

He groaned as she leaned forward to press her mouth to his inner thigh.  “I don’t want you to go easy on me, Princess,” he said.  “I want you to ruin me.”

She grinned up at him, sliding a hand oh-so-slowly up to his hip.  “I think I can manage that.”

[loversandantiheroes]

I woke up with frankie angst on the brain. so. inbox fic incoming. :)

[tw for referenced child death]

I am thinking this morning about Frankie. about his baby. about his lady who doesn't like him doing this stuff anymore. about him doing it anyway and being gone so much longer than he said he would. about him not being there at the worst possible moment for his tiny family. about him carting $200 million through the Andes while his family shrank just a little bit smaller. about the detonation that obliterated what little home him and his lady had scraped together before he left.

I am thinking about Frankie returning to the apartment, not to find it empty, but to find it mourning. about regret so thick it cements his shoes to the doormat. about rage so hot it cauterizes the fresh wounds inside. about him having to face his lady and know that there is no fixing this. about the latest mistake he cannot make up for, not to her, not to him. about Frankie letting her push him aside and drive away. about him wishing the sting of two absences would wash away the guilt of his.

I am thinking about Frankie losing himself. about days lost in a haze not of a chemical making. about him moving out of his apartment because the quiet was deafening. about him crashing on Benny's couch because he just needs the noise of another person to muffle the stab of missing coconut scented shampoo. about mediocre jobs with even more mediocre pay. about how much he hates rain. about Benny's not so subtle suggestions that he try for his pilot's license again.

I am thinking about Frankie clawing a life back together. about him finally going down to the municipal airport and signing up for a class, gut clenching at the cost. about his first truly free breath in months, when lift and weight finally balance in a way he understands deep in his bones and all he can see is blue. about him begging forgiveness from a small grey stone he finally gathered the nerve to visit. about losing that same nerve in the parking lot of the diner where his lady works.

I am thinking about Frankie nearly moving on. about him barely talking to Santiago again, about sports, news, never the old days. about Will and Benny making him laugh till his muscles ache. about a charter firm taking a chance on him and the welcome weight of responsibility again. about a letter sent to his lady with the apology he should have said and a check in case she doesn't want to hear it. about the beautifully bland routines of Tuesday night poker and a morning commute radio hour.

And I am thinking about Frankie opening his front door and finding a blank envelope at his feet. about him opening it to a picture of his lady leaving work and the words 'We know what you did' scrawled on the back. about the paralyzing dread to discover the rest of the crew also got threats delivered to their doors. about how stupid he feels to think that he could outrun his past. about him finally having to face his lady and ask her, of all people, to trust him for one last job. 

Mice, why???  Why did you wake up and choose violence???  I give you an anxious pilot and this is how you repay me???😭😭😭😭

APOLOGIZE TO THIS MAN RIGHT THIS INSTANT

[charaznablescanontoyota]

wait. hold on. hold on just a second. now hang on just a minute

[miceenscene]

Hark, An Announcement!

I've started a side-blog for my Pedro Pascal ...fascination. And all my stories vis-a-vis him will be posted there from now on. miceenscene isn't going anywhere, just trying to organize things a bit more.

So! Join me on miceandpens to keep this pedro party a-rollin! :) 18+ only, please

<3, mice

[ferociousqueak]

Not Widow, Not Orphan please!

Oh, that fic is both one I’m very much looking forward to finishing and also one I rather dread picking up again. Not because it’s a bad or boring story, mind you! Just emotionally taxing. It deals largely with the aftermath of Shepard’s (Alchera) death and how it affects Hannah (the idea behind the title being there’s no word, in English, for someone whose child is dead), but that’s really just the beginning. The meat of the story is Hannah’s knowledge of and involvement in Shepard’s resurrection—which is to say, late, limited, and adamantly against but incapable of stopping. I can’t get too much further into the details without spoiling some late chapters of Family Resemblance, but here’s a snippet:

The image of Alli lying still and breathless flashed through her mind unbidden, and Hannah’s inside turned cold and hollow. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, inhaling and exhaling one slow breath at a time.

Keep it together, Hannah. Just get home.

How many times had she watched Alli breathing in her sleep as a baby? She could still feel her quick heartbeat against her chest. It had seemed miraculous that something so small and fragile could ever exist—and so frightening to think Hannah might one day fail in protecting her. Alli had grown strong and quick and even ruthless—a soldier in every sense—but that day had come all the same.

Hannah glanced up to see she was nearly to her door, and put a hand over her mouth. Just a little farther.

She jumped out of the sky car almost before it stopped and took long, quick strides toward the door. Through sheer force of will, she made it all the way to the kitchen sink before her stomach turned itself inside out. When there was nothing left inside her, she let the water run and scooped it into her mouth to rinse out the foulness.

Memories of sitting up late at night when Alli was sick came to mind, and her hand tingled with the feel of Alli’s fevered, clammy forehead beneath it. She’d been so afraid, she couldn’t have slept if she wanted to. When the fever broke the next morning, Hannah nearly cried. Part of her thought that if Alli would’ve had any siblings, Hannah would’ve handled those common emergencies more fluidly. But that had been pointless speculation. Alli was all she ever had. And now she was . . . somewhere. Nowhere.

Was she floating, frozen through space? Had she burned up in the atmosphere over that strange planet? Was she battered, burnt, broken—

“Han!” Dess broke through Hannah’s increasingly worse thoughts as she rushed past the kitchen, saw her, and hurried back. “Drescher called me and said—” she stopped short as Hannah turned off the water and didn’t look at her. “No.”

Hannah barked a bitter laugh. “You got it a hell of a lot faster than I did.”

Thank you for the ask <3

WIP Title Meme

[littlesmartart]

just wanted to say that me and all my friends LOVE your Mass Effect pirates/eldritch AU. SO. MUCH. it's excellent and keep up the great work in everything else. A+ :D