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mithranqueersmusings · 4 years

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Before This Dance Is Through XI

Chapter: 11/16

Rating: E (Smut Warning)

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo spent a lot of time late at night scrolling through George's Onlyfans profile over the next few days; he was eager to go back to the club but he didn't want George to know that he was eager, so he made do with the plethora of erotica George had supplied. Each time Ringo loaded up the page his eyes would always focus on the 'Message' button, he'd stare at it for a while and debate whether or not he should do it. How likely it was that George would reply was completely unknown to him, but it was definite that if he didn't even send a message then he'd never get a reply. Ringo's account was entirely plain, with no reference to his actual self in any way, so it wasn't as though George would know it was him. But Ringo was still hesitant, he didn't like that this was the only method of contact available to him nor that he'd be hiding behind an anonymous profile. Yet every time he'd load up the page his thumb would hover over it for a few seconds, his curiosity was beginning to overpower the desire to even speak to George. What would he even say?

John was still busy working on his poetry, how busy he actually was Ringo would never truly know, so there was no chance of dragging him along to The Helter Skelter. Going alone would look too strange, Ringo had decided, he was so afraid that George would catch on to exactly how much Ringo liked him. Messaging him was the only viable option left, because even wanking himself off every night to George's photos was beginning to lose its novelty.

It was late at night and Ringo lay in bed in his boxers, it was far too hot to sleep in anything more at the moment. The light had been switched off and so began the nightly routine, loading up George's photos and asking himself the same question: did he dare message him? Ringo wasn't sure what convinced him that night, whether he was just sleepy enough that his inhibitions had begun to waver or he was really getting that desperate, but something fuelled him on.

hey

Ringo stared at his own words long enough that his vision began to blur. Was that enough? He had no idea what his aims were with this, he just wanted something. Even if George went on a rant about how he hated weird creeps messaging him late at night, at least it'd be something. A few minutes passed and Ringo just lay there clasping his phone in both hands. Was George even going to reply? He could've been working, or busy doing something or someone else, for all Ringo knew. But he felt like if he stared at the screen it'd somehow make it more likely that George would reply. His eyes began to droop when his phone suddenly vibrated, he worried that it was another of John's late night texts, but it wasn't.

hi there

Now what? Ringo wasn't exactly sure what the etiquette of this situation was. He'd had his fair share of dirty conversations over text, but is that what this was? Surely it wasn't just somewhere to talk about the weather.

how are you?

Ringo almost cringed when he sent the message, if George didn't respond after this he wouldn't have blamed him. It was like paying for a prostitute only to sit them down and ask them if they'd seen any good films lately. At least Ringo knew George wasn't working, he wouldn't have guessed that he'd waste his breaks messaging potential weirdos, but then he again he didn't have a clue.

just peachy and yourself?

better now

A little cliche, not to mention desperate, but overthinking about his responses would've been a sure way to kill the conversation completely.

arent you sweet? what you up to?

just lying in bed

alone?

as always what about you?

sitting in the bath want to see?

yes

Ringo had written 'please' at first, but realised how pathetic that might look. The speed of the replies had been rapidly increasing up until this point, and in this lull Ringo couldn't help getting a little excited knowing that George was taking a photo of himself at this very moment; even if he wasn't in the bath at all and this pause was a result of him scrolling through his photos to try and find one that matched the fictitious scenario, Ringo didn't care, he was going to allow himself to be optimistic. It wasn't too long before a photo appeared in the chat, blurry at first before Ringo selected to enlarge it, which he did without hesitation.

This wasn't the first time Ringo had seen a photo like this, he remembered very well the photos George had posted a while back of him in the bath, but this didn't look like merely a rejected photo from that session, which allowed him to believe it was contemporary, just for him. George's face was barely in the picture, which was a little disappointing to Ringo but he could hardly complain when his own profile picture was the default one. The bath water was a soft pink colour, no doubt from one of those luxurious bath bombs that Ringo loved the smell of but never bought for himself. One of George's slim legs was lifted up out of the water, gleaming and wet, while his bare chest was fully exposed. Only the bottom of his sharp jawline could be seen, but there was no doubt that this was George, Ringo knew his face well enough by now. It was nothing too explicit, his genitalia completely hidden under the water, but that wasn't really what Ringo was interested in; just to see his beautiful body was more than enough.

Ringo wasn't quite sure what to say in response, if this had been one of his boyfriends it would've been a different story, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. He didn't want to jump into anything too extreme too quickly, scaring George off now would've wounded Ringo deeply.

wow beautiful

Simple yet effective, Ringo told himself. He wanted to avoid saying too much, which was almost always his problem.

your turn

Shit. Ringo threw the covers off himself immediately then lay there frozen. If only he'd had some old photos saved, but he had gotten sick of John rifling through his phone with zero warning then giving critiques on his nudes, which was uncomfortable for a variety of reasons. Ringo had never thought he'd been that good at taking them, especially when compared to the standard of George's photos, they were practically art compared to his own. The last thing he wanted was to look like those sleazy, crude photos that John would always receive on Grindr with no context. There was only a short window to do this, if he took too long George would no doubt lose interest, so he quickly rolled over and stretched over to turn the lamp on his bedside table on to provide at least a little bit of lighting. He couldn't show his face, that was a given, which means he'd have to take things to the next level. He was already half-hard, he had George's pictures to thank for that, and it didn't take more than a few pumps to get him the rest of the way there, especially with the thought that he was doing this for George.

It wasn't the most flattering picture he'd ever taken, one hand pulling down the waistband of his boxers and the other awkwardly angling the phone to take the photo, but it wasn't the worst either. As he sent it, he could feel his heart thumping in his chest and he wasn't sure whether it was from all the erratic movement or something a little deeper.

youre hot wanna suck your dick

Well that was certainly one way to escalate things. Ringo let out a quiet gasp when he read the message, here he was being so nervous about overstepping any boundaries when George entirely throws them out the window.

oh yeah?

yeah you wanna fuck me?

Ringo had no trouble maintaining an erection from this point onward. As much as he knew this wasn't anything more than meaningless dirty talk, that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it. Whether George was doing this for money or just to get off, Ringo didn't really care; he slid his hand under the fabric of his boxers and began stroking himself.

god yes

how would you fuck me? i like it rough

i bet you do would love to spank that arse while i fuck you

mmm yes please bet your big cock would feel so good in my ass are you touching yourself?

yes

good

It wasn't the easiest thing to do: wanking and trying to type with one hand, but Ringo was somehow managing it.

youre so gorgeous

speak for yourself have you ever seen me dance?

yes

Ringo wasn't sure why he told the truth, his mind was considerably muddy by this point.

and what did you think?

so so hot its so hard not to touch you when you look that good

touch me then i want you to

wish i could wish i could have you all to myself

what would you do to me?

That was the real question. What would Ringo do? What he wanted to do was easy, but if George had walked into his bedroom at that very second the only thing he'd really be capable of doing was probably fainting.

anything and everything i want you so badly id do anything to have you right now

why me?

do you really have to ask? youre absolutely stunning you can turn me on just by looking at me

lucky me id like to do a little more than just look at you

like what

suck your cock its so big i dont know if i could take it all but id try

god id love to see that

then id ride you nice and slow let you watch your cock slide in and out of me

Ringo could already feel his orgasm building, he felt a little embarrassed that it had been so easy. He tried to slow his movements but it only made things worse, he couldn't help imaging the tightness of his hand being replaced by George. He wondered if George was touching himself too, if he was enjoying this at all; it was best not to think about it.

then id flip you over and really fuck you grabbing your arse while i pound you is that what you want?

fuck yes want you choke me make me pass out on your cock

This was bordering on unknown territory now; Ringo wasn't exactly vanilla in bed but he definitely wouldn't describe himself as adventurous, kinky even. But the thought of his hand wrapping around George's slender throat, his rings pressing against the skin, made his hand stutter.

youre dirty arent you?

only if you want me to be ill let you do anything you want

i bet you would

you can tie me up gag me if you want as long as i get your cock

Ringo had no idea what he should expect when he'd sent the first message, but it was certainly wasn't this. It should've been no surprise that George could make him come undone with just his words, and a very enticing photo. He wished they could've kept speaking for hours, but with every message that became more and more unlikely.

shit im getting close

so soon? i want to cum with you

i want to cum inside you

i prefer it on my face id look so pretty with your cum all over me

i bet you would

or i could swallow it wrap my mouth around your fat cock taste your hot cum i wouldnt waste a drop

He cursed himself for getting so close so quickly, especially when things were getting so heated now. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop the images conjuring in his mind: George's sharp face covered with his orgasm, that charismatic grin spreading over his face as he licked as much as he could manage. Some of it falling into his dark hair, over his long eyelashes. It would be an entire new level of beauty, and Ringo needed to see it. He'd begun moaning aloud while he jerked himself, his wrist had begun to ache from holding up the heavy phone for so long.

im so close

me too

Whether George was actually touching himself or not, Ringo didn't care. He'd let himself believe that George was lying in the bath, or on his bed in nothing but a loose towel, with his hand wrapped around himself while he thought of Ringo. Even if he didn't know it was him, if all he'd seen was below the neckline, he didn't care; it was all he needed.

fuck i wish you were here want to fuck you until i explode wanna watch my cum dripping out of you

god yes please fill me up with your cum i want it i need your cum

im almost there fuck

mmm good give me that cum please please cum for me

That was enough for Ringo; he could hear the words in his mind as if George was really saying them to him. It was the most intense orgasm he'd had for a while, and he'd been having a lot of them. He dropped the phone in his exhaustion, falling down onto the bed while he breathed raggedly. Sweat was forming on his forehead, making his hair stick in places. Several seconds passed before he finally picked the phone up again, the clarity was beginning to form which made him question what he'd just done but it was too late to go back now.

that was amazing

it sure was goodnight

Ringo tried not to be hurt by the bluntness of the end, but he supposed George too was having that moment of mental purity which made you want to discard whatever you'd been so obsessed with right up until the moment you finish. He stared at the words for a few moments, exhaustion beginning to take over paired with the realisation that he needed to get up and sort himself out. He would've let the phone drop back onto the bed and got himself suitable for sleep, he would've if that next message hadn't sent. It was only one word, and Ringo had been certain he'd read it wrong or that his eyes were playing some sort of strange trick on him. After realising what he was seeing was in fact real, he couldn't put the phone down but that was about the limit of what he could do; should he send another message? Surely not. Should he delete his account then flee the country? Maybe that a was a little dramatic. In the end he did nothing, just glared at the word as if it would somehow vanish or send him back in time so that he could've never message George in the first place.

A single word, that's all it took to send Ringo into this internal frenzy, his eyes bulging wide and his heart racing. Not just a mere word, a name; his name.

ringo

Shit. How did he know? Had Ringo been that obvious? The whole reason he'd been comfortable sending any of those messages was because he thought he was safe behind his blank and anonymous profile.

But maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all. If George knew it was him, whether from the start or not, he'd still stayed messaging him throughout the entire thing. He'd called him hot, he'd told him to touch him. Had all that been genuine? This wasn't meant to over-complicate things, it was meant to be a one-off moment of weakness on Ringo's behalf that went no further than desperate dirty talk and a well needed orgasm. Shit.

Maybe it was all a joke. Maybe George knew that Ringo was trying to be sneaky, so decided to mess him about. It wouldn't have been a complete surprise considering how much he seemed to enjoy teasing him at the club. The real issue was that Ringo simply didn't understand George, every time he thought he'd got him pinned down his intentions would seem to flip entirely. Or maybe that was just Ringo's anxiety getting the better of him; after all he had been single for a very long time, perhaps he was beginning to see exactly why that was.

Ringo felt like he couldn't show his face at the club again, not after exposing himself - rather literally - to George like that; since George had been so agonisingly torturous before, he could only imagine how he'd act now he knew that Ringo truly wanted to sleep with him. Most likely Ringo wouldn't be able to survive it, not for a second.

All he could for now though, was sleep. He tried to focus his brain on anything but George, but the more he tried to avoid it the stronger the urges became. Fighting the idea that his brain was trying to form: that George truly liked him back, all this teasing and mystery was his way of showing it. It just couldn't be true, it was actually too good to be true. Ringo couldn't get a guy like George, it didn't take a genius to see that. It was a ridiculous notion, he was only telling himself what he wanted to believe. This whole thing was ridiculous, falling for a stripper, and this embarrassing episode was a clear sign that he had to stop making himself suffer like this. It was never going to happen.

He couldn't go back now, not after this, not ever. He was done.

#the beatles #beatles #beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #george harrison/ringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #ringo starrxgeorge harrison #george harrisonxringo starr #starrison

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pensurfing · 5 years

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Caitlin’s Three Things List

Okay, so moments (probably hours by the time I finish this) ago I wrote a goals list that I think is good for self-evaluation. (Keyword: This is what I think. results may vary depending on what you’re looking for.)

I’m going to hop to it and answer some of these that I laid out in hopes of having a better idea of what I want to accomplish.

The Three Things Lists!

1) Three things that went well this year.

* Audience growth

So once upon a time, I grew a pretty decent following due to creating an Inktober Prompt list. My expectations: Maybe two of my friends would do this, maybe. And then one stranger that has followed me for a while. (There are a few followers I recognize their username because if I post something they always like it and for some reason that keeps me going.)

But because of this prompt, I was exposed to MANY new creators and illustrators that I now enjoy chatting with and following! Instagram had the biggest maintained growth. I’m excited to create for an audience that actually expects me to create and not just for friends who see my things “whenever they aren’t busy”. (Not to bash them or anything, just there are a lot where unless I tell them, they don’t see the posts I make.)

Another surge of growth in my audience was due to tabling at conventions this year. I was terrified to show my work let alone attempt to sell it to someone. Tabling at cons not only boosted my confidence but also quieted one of my ever going demons. “YoU sUcK aT dRaWiNg CaItLiN.” “How do you have a degree? oh right, you just barely passed.” I can’t say this is the case, there is an audience that genuinely enjoys my scribbles. So I am forever thankful to Atlanta Comic Con for giving me that chance. It honestly opened a few doors for me.

**Process

I’ve gotten more comfortable with showing my process. It can be messy, crisp, and illogical. But turns out the people who enjoy my content enjoy my scrambled thoughts. It’s something about not being alone in this sort of sense that calms the nerves.

So I can say with chest poked out that sharing process has gotten MUCH better. I can thank a self-help book I bought this year that was a FANTASTIC BUY. Austin Kleon has [two] (currently? If he has more then I’m buying it like people buy a name brand.) books that helped me see that it is GREAT to share not only the process but advice. “Show Your Work” is the book I’m talking about for now. Great tips, the outline is on the back of the book. So if you’re like me, I need to clearly see what I might be getting into, you might have a ball.

And finally, (not calling myself out on this but other) If you’re going to respond to people when they ask you “how do you___?” do not answer “Google it”. That is the rudest thing I’ve seen some of even my FAVORITE illustrators do; that response can burn in hell. PERIODT. (my one typo allowed.)

*** Art Style Exploration

For those who think college will help you establish an art style that you’ll enjoy or help nourish the one you currently have.... Let me save you over 80K.... No, the fuck it won’t.

That was the biggest thought I had going into art school. If anything, it confused me more and utterly destroyed what little confidence I had in my drawing style. After graduating, I had a huge swing from how I used to draw to how my art currently looks. I stopped trying to please the one professor who stood between me and my degree and started drawing to please my tastes. And guess what? That did something. And that something WORKED. I love what I draw now; I see why I chose this as my career path. I’m genuinely happy with how my pieces turn out versus in college just wanting to turn the damn thing in and hoping it isn’t an F.

2) Three things you could have handled better.

* The loss of a good paying client.

Now hear me out when I say this: A good paying client DOES NOT EQUAL a good client. Say that three times and then exhale.

Back earlier this year, I had the opportunity to work with a writer who gave me hell and back. And even that is an understatement. I dealt with her because in school you were taught “if they pay on time, finish the work and get the exposure.”

I’m here to tell you my lesson learned: A good paying client DOES NOT EQUAL good exposure, good pay, a good client.

I was doing the work of three for the price of one and a half. (And was always told I charged too much.) She tried abusing this power with friends of mine, with other illustrators. When things turned out bad, she tried saying it was my fault. She read my contract and then tried telling me I changed the wording, I purposely did this thing, another thing was my fault. I could go on with this story.

The part that I wish I handled better?

How I treated myself afterward. I’m so used to people telling me, “Cait, this is what you do wrong. This is how you fix it.” that I don’t consider my own feelings, and when I bring my feelings into the scenario they no longer matter. Because they tell me they don’t matter. In this case, I wish I had treated me better, because my feelings, my mental health, DOES matter.

**My Patience Getting Into Conventions.

Pretty self-explanatory. I got into one, finished one, and wanted to do eight more in a week. But this sort of thing just takes time and I need to accept that.

***My losses

I had to listen to a Little Mix song to actually learn this one. The context of the song is nowhere near the topic at hand. But a verse from Power feat Stomzy really packs a punch after this year:

“ You look him in the eye and say, "I know I'm not a guy But see there's power in my losses and there's power in my wins" “

I had to look one of my demons in the face, and state something similar. My loses mean I’m trying. My loses piling shows I’m not willing to give up easily, and that is something that took a while to be content with.

3) Three things artistically you want to improve on.

*Composition

It’s not awful, but it can be better.

**Color

I told this BOLDLY if I might add while critiquing someone else’s portfolio; “Your color palette is boring. All your [things] look as if they are from the same universe, during the same time of day, with the same kind of mood. After three photos it’s bland, boring, and understood you have a preference.”

Can you say damn Cait? The statement was, in fact, true, but I certainly could not talk. My color palette is mainly bright, pop, and happy. In order to tell a story, I KNOW it is best told with color. And I failed myself this year. But I sure won’t next year.

***My Damn Tag

Okay, alright. Why is it well-established artists have their tag figured out? Even some who’s art style is so recognizable (I’m looking HEAVILY at you Gabriel Piccolo.) we know it’s theirs, seem to have a tag that suits them and works for them. But more importantly, they put it in A VERY DECENT SPOT. SOMEONE SHARE THIS SCIENCE WITH ME? CAUSE APPARENTLY I DON’T GET IT.

4) Three things you want to focus on trying.

*More backgrounds.

As much as it pains me, I need to improve on backgrounds and perspective. When I do make backgrounds, I’m told I make great pieces. That I should look into becoming a background artist. And don’t get me wrong, I like them. But I don’t like them.

I feel as though I need to improve in that region so that way I don’t feel as though it’s a weakness of mine. My backgrounds are nice, but they aren’t nice to my standards.

**More designs

I love character designs, but let’s be real. If you were to scroll down my site or my Instagram page, or even this Tumblr archive, could you tell?

I draw characters a lot sure, but none are designs. No process, no sheets, no turnarounds, none of that. So that’s a huge goal of mine for 2019.

***Scheduling posting

At one point I was pretty good at this. Live stream in Instagram and Twitter, cool. Videos on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Cool. Everywhere gets a photo, everywhere gets a silly one-liner. Yay. I’m not leaving anything out.

Well by the end of this year that totally crumbled.

SO I want to try getting better at that thing there. Because having attempted this at the end of the year was cool, but it still wasn’t enough apparently.

5) Three positive things to tell yourself.

* You are an inspiration. That’s all you wanted to be in life, you did it. I’m proud of you.

**You didn’t kill yourself like you tried to; you opened up about it for once and used that pint up anger creatively. That is very hard to do, trust. I’m proud of you.

***You moved on, matured, and let it go. Even when the goddess inside you told you these peasants didn’t deserve your light, your friendship, your greatness. I’m proud of you.

I’m just proud of me for not snapping when I had every right to; not everything deserves a reaction.

6) Three negative things you want to leave for 2018.

*Comparisons

Oh boy. I am extremely guilty for this: I’ll compare myself to a well-known illustrator my age. I’ll compare myself to friends who are in the field having a blast and getting work; I’ll compare myself to friends who aren’t in the field and they struggle at getting work. I’ll compare myself to the kid I graduated high school with who is traveling the world, is able to eat, come home to his dog and relax because he doesn’t have tuition to pay. I’ll compare myself to these goddamn baby boomers who keep repeating “We didn’t have it hard, you’re just being stupid. Millennials aka our children deserve to starve. We’ll just put our faith in our grandchildren because screw the kids we raised and refuse to pay accordingly. $7 an hour worked in my day, they need to make it work now.” I’ll compare myself to fake people I created in my head and purposely made scenarios and wonder why I’m not like them, said creations I made because I was pretty low for ten minutes...

I just compare myself too much. To any damn body. It’s draining, obnoxious and most of all pointless. My new motto for next year is: “Unless it is helping you grow yourself, your brand, your spirituality, don’t do it.”

I’m not comparing my chapter two to someone’s chapter thirty-five. I’m not even comparing my chapter two to someone else’s chapter two. I need to stop doing that PERIOD! My journey is different, unique, and worth seeing through.

**Listening to negative others.

A couple of years ago, I lost a close friend around the time my aunt passed away. During this time I was hypersensitive to any and everything done or said; I also kept many walls up to hide my mourning. He caught the crossfire of all of that. I kept secrets from him I was too prideful of admitting and lashed out because of the emotional turmoil I kept suppressed. While in the midst of packing his things and leaving my life, he mentioned that I was a failure because I was unemployed and artistically speaking I hadn’t accomplished anything; that I would remain that way because that’s just the person I deserved to be. Now mind you, I graduated college that year; he was a flunk out. I changed my art style dramatically compared to when I started school to pass; he thought just posting crappy pictures of lukewarm sketches were equivalent. I started attempting trends and all he could do was copy. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t to bash my old friend. If he were to come back into my life and move on like nothing had happened I’d do the same. (With some limitations.)

It’s just while typing out this scenario, of our four-year friendship I can’t think of one nice thing/compliment/gesture he has said to me. That’s my problem.

I can be praised, admired, and look highly upon for years straight. But my problem is I let others negative thinking and comments marinate with me for a long while. Too long of a while.

Another example is my mother’s friend. (My mom has many friends that do this shit, but this one stung more.)

This friend always roots for me; treats me like a person, and encourages my artistic journey. I consider her family before my actual relatives.

We went over for some barbeque the family was having and I was ready. Black Hallmark Cookouts, laughing, good food, good music, shit talking others teams. She asked me a harmless question of when was I going to quit my day job. Seemed like nothing at first, until the added gest of what she continued with. “All I’m saying is you can’t do [your day job] forever. That will get old. If the art thing doesn’t work out next year what’s plan b?”

I’m not a calm person (usually). Normal Caitlin would have cursed her out and mentioned how just because she chose a job to settle and be miserable at for most of her life doesn’t mean I have to follow suit. But again, of all the nice encouraging things she has done, said, and showed, for a while, I couldn’t think of it.

So I pray I let go of this nasty behavior in 2018; it’s going to be hard but it is dire.

***Saying I’m Not Enough

Alright, now put the combination of the two above in a bowl and what do you get? A Caitlin who struggles in interviews and applying for jobs because I let comparisons and negative comments rule my thoughts. This stopped me from applying to jobs I would have been perfect for; internships that could have helped me; posting art online.

We (including me) have to stop thinking that in order to be an illustrator means we have to pass a certain threshold of struggle, success, and a huge number of followers. That isn’t the job description. NO JOB DESCRIPTION has ”must have at least 10K followers on Instagram or Twitter.” nOnE.

So we (including me) need to stop treating ourselves this way. Period.

7) Three things you’re looking forward to in 2019.

*Going to move conventions.

**Adding pieces to my portfolio to try again at job hunting.

***Becoming content with the fact that my current situation isn’t my permanent situation. Unless I laze around and make it so.

Alright, so this was basically me calling myself out on my noise. Lashing out my demons and putting it in writing what I want to accomplish. I hope this inspires you to write yours, even if you keep it private. I hope it guides you and maintains your vision.

I’ll see you in 2019

A new wave

Caitlin xx

#pensurfing #new years #new years resolution

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