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sourwolf-sterek32 · 2 months

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Idiotic Hero

Summary: Nikki Sixx chooses a random fan from the crowd to come on stage and it happens to be you. But what happens when a person with a knife pushes through security and runs straight towards you both?

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Mötley Crüe & Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings- language, blood, serious injury, mentions of past drug & alcohol abuse

Part 1

The World Tour: Mötley Crüe and Def Leppard.

It was actually happening. Eight years since Mötley Crüe's 'final tour' in 2015 and they were back performing live not just in front of crowds on a stage but in front of tens of thousands of fans in stadiums all across the world.

You couldn't stop pinching yourself as you leant against the barricade in the front row of their concert. How you even managed to get such great tickets was a question you still couldn't answer but you were so incredibly happy.

Growing up your father raised you on rock music. Mötley Crüe, Aerosmith, AC/DC, Guns 'N Roses, Bon Jovi, Alice Cooper, the list was basically infinite.

There was no shortage of rock music in your childhood house. Your father was the one who introduced you to Mötley Crüe, but little five-year-old you had no idea how far your obsession and hyper-fixation with this band would go.

From listening to Girls Girls Girls in the back of your father's truck on the way to school to blasting Kickstart My Heart many years later while driving home from your dead-end job. Mötley Crüe was your favourite band. As a child you enjoyed their music, blissfully unaware of the meaning behind some of their songs as you shouted the lyrics from the backseat. But despite liking their music at a young age, you never became a full-on fan or Crüehead until you were older.

Now, you understood the meaning behind their songs and lyrics... some quite questionable (yes, I'm looking at you All In The Name Of...) but they were still great songs that resonated deeply within you. Now you were older you were able to properly appreciate the music. Most of Mötley Crüe's songs were close to your heart. Afraid and Home Sweet Home more so than any others.

Being able to see them live in person was something you were still struggling to comprehend. Even now as you stood in front of the barricade staring at the empty stage in front of you waiting for the concert to start, it was still unimaginable. It felt as if you were dreaming. And you feared that your alarm clock would wake you up any minute. But that annoying ringtone never rang, instead loud emergency buzzing started as the large screens either side of the stage lit up with the words;

'NATIONAL ALERT Primary Entry Point System Issued an Emergency Action Notification'

If you hadn't been so obsessed with this band, you might have been worried reading those words and hearing the emergency alarm. But you had already seen YouTube videos of their World Tour concerts and knew the show was about to get wild. Literally.

The guitar intro for Wild Side started shortly after and you stood there mouth agape in awe as John 5, Mötley's new guitarist, appeared out of nowhere shredding on his guitar.

Many hated John 5 simply because of the fact he was standing where Mick Mars used to be. And yeah, you understood that. Mick Mars is an absolute beast with a guitar, but John 5 was a damn good guitarist too. From playing with Rob Zombie and Marilyn Manson, John 5 had the experience and the skill to continue on Mick's legacy with Mötley Crüe. And he was proving that right before your eyes.

Suddenly drums joined in with the guitar and your head snapped to the left in shock to find Tommy Lee sitting behind his drum kit. You had been so focused on John 5 in his long white coat you didn't even notice Tommy sneaking up on stage and by the screams coming from the mass crowd behind you, nobody else did either.

Then Nikki Sixx and Vince Neil rushed out from the side onto the stage, and you began screaming in pure happiness with the crowd.

This was real.

Mötley Crüe were here. They were right in front of you.

Holy fucking shit.

It was actually happening.

Your internal freak out was cut short when Vince began to scream those first words and suddenly everything else around you faded away as you got sucked into the music.

All your life issues and problems outside of this stadium vanished. All the stress and pressure from work, gone. Nothing else mattered in this moment as you stared at the band, at the four men on stage who meant everything to you.

"How you guys doing tonight?!" Vince shouted through the microphone after finishing Wild Side and Shout At The Devil. Hewalked up to the front of the stage staring out at the crowd who all cheered and screamed in response. "Now tell me, who likes to listen to the old shit?"

The crowd went ballistic and you right along with them as you screamed up at Vince who was smirking at the fans. Vince Neil was a showman. He loved performing and putting on a show for everyone. This was what he was born to do and even now at 62 years of age, he was still rocking it.

"How about something from the first album?" He asked and the crowd cheered so loudly it hurt your ears and Vince grinned turning back to his bandmates. "Let's do it!"

John 5 suddenly unleashed on his guitar, Tommy joining in with his drums and you grinned ear to ear recognising Too Fast For Love instantly.

Don't Go Away Mad Live Wire Looks That Kill The Dirt

Song after song and you were in pure bliss listening to them play while screaming along with Vince to the words. And when Tommy sat down behind the piano that got wheeled onto stage, tears were burning in your eyes before the song even started.

Home Sweet Home.

This song meant so much to you. After moving out of home young for your career and living over eight hours away from your friends and family this song hit you harder than any other.

You knew there was a chance you'd tear up during this song, but after the first few words "you know I'm a dreamer" you were done for. Silent tears trickled down your face as you sung the words that meant so much to you.

Nikki walked around the back of the piano patting Tommy's shoulder before he stood at the edge of stage right in front of you. His eyes scanned over the crowd in amazement. Even after 40+ years of touring you could tell that Nikki never took this for granted as he stared out at his fans in genuine happiness.

"But my heart's of gold I had to run away high So I wouldn't come home low"

Nikki placed his hand over his inner elbow while Vince sang which only made you cry harder knowing all about his battle with heroin that had killed him back in 1987. You briefly thought back to his book The Heroin Diaries and all the pain and suffering inside those pages. Nikki had been through so much shit yet overcame his drug and alcohol addictions and was now living his best life. 22 years sober. You were so incredibly proud of him.

Suddenly, as if Nikki could somehow sense your thoughts his head turned, and his beautiful smoky eyes locked with yours.

"Take me to your heart." You sang in tune with Vince as Nikki placed his hand over his heart while maintaining eye contact.

You continued to sing the lyrics. Nikkis smile widening with each word. Tears were still trickling down your face, but you didn't wipe them away as you sang, and he eventually turned his attention away leaving you standing there feeling breathless.

Now that your eyes weren't locked with the bassist you took a moment to turn and look at the crowd yourself. Lights from phones illuminated the entire stadium. You stood there with wide eyes watching all the lights going round and round in tune with the beat while Vince sung his heart out.

After Home Sweet Home they got into Smokin' In The Boys Room. It was amazing.

As they continued through the songs, you occasionally caught Nikki looking at you. Sometimes briefly, just one flash of his beautiful smoky eyes before he was looking away again. But sometimes he'd hold your gaze for a few moments while he strummed away on his bass, and you sang the words to each and every song with so much passion and enthusiasm.

Nikki probably thought you were crazy. You knew every word to every song and hell, you were even sporting his signature black war stripes on your cheeks that matched his own identically.

"I wanna introduce you to somebody who's up here." Vince suddenly said through the microphone. "He's my brother. He's a badass. And he's a bass player. Give it up for Mr. Nikki Sixx!" Vince shouted pointing at the bassist in question who began walking to the front of the stage his bass no longer strapped around his shoulder.

Nikki and Vince fist bumped as they walked past each other. The singer disappeared off stage for a drink break with the rest of the band leaving Nikki alone on stage as he walked up to the microphone pole.

"Well, how the fuck are you guys doing?" Nikki called out speaking for the first time. "Anyone wanna come up here on stage with me?"

Your heart thundered in your chest like a drum as Nikki's eyes scanned the crowd before locking with yours. Then your heart quite literally stopped and all you could do was stare right back at him as he pointed at you and curled his finger up in a come here motion.

"Get that beautiful girl up here." Nikki ordered his gaze holding yours for a moment before he turned back to the rest of the crowd and continued to talk about the tour.

If someone held a gun to your head and told you to repeat what Nikki was now talking about. You'd be dead because you were not listening to a word the bassist was saying anymore as blood rushed in your ears. All you could focus on was the security guard walking over to you as you shakily began climbing over the barricade.

The guard helped you over safely before guiding you around to the side of stage and pointed at the stairs without a word.

Wait, were you meant to just walk up the stairs onto the stage? Did Nikki want you up there now? Oh, God you were panicking and overthinking this.

"I saw you singing every word to every song. Come up here." Nikki's voice cut through your internal panic as he appeared at the top of the stairs and held his hand out towards you.

Sucking in a deep breath trying to calm your nerves, you took Nikki's hand and climbed onto stage. And holy fuck there were a lot of people in that crowd. It was a never-ending sea of fans packed into the stadium and all of them were staring at you and Nikki.

"It's okay. Don't be nervous, sweetheart." Nikki whispered lowering the microphone so nobody else could hear him. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

He smiled, "pretty name. It suits you."

You couldn't stop the small smile from spreading across your face at his compliment as you ducked your head feeling your cheeks blushing.

"It's fans like you guys that make all this possible." Nikki began to say into the microphone before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "And if you'll have us, we will be back soon I promise you that!"

The crowd erupted in applause and screams causing you to flinch not expecting it. Nikki's arm tightened around you ever so slightly noticing your reaction. He continued to talk to the crowd while holding you against his side. You allowed yourself to relax in his hold and leant into his touch getting memorised by his musky cologne.

It was hard to believe Nikki Sixx was 64. He still ran around on stage with his bass like he did back in the 80s. Well, maybe not as much. Nikki did used to drink Jack Daniels straight from the bottle and roll around on stage back in the day. His beard and hair were obviously dyed now, but he looked damn good for his age. The thick muscular arm holding onto you was enough proof to say that Nikki Sixx aged like fine wine. He was only getting better and better as the years passed.

"I have a very important question for you." Nikki began to say, and you tilted your head up surprised to find him looking right back at you.

Oh, he wasn't talking to the crowd anymore. He was talking straight to you.

His face was so close to yours you could smell a hint of mint on his breath. It was strangely refreshing.

You bit your lip nervously and nodded staring into his beautiful sea green eyes awaiting his question anxiously.

"What song would you like us to play next? It's your choice."

Oh my God.

The crowd all started shouting song names that you couldn't quite decipher as you held Nikki's gaze. He was smirking like he could see you suddenly panicking because despite the fact that you knew every single one of their songs from all the albums, you were coming up blank.

Nothing.

Not one song title was coming to mind.

"Give us a song we haven't played in years!" A familiar voice called out causing the crowd to cheer.

You glanced over your shoulder to find Tommy Lee strolling back onto stage with his drum sticks in his hands. God, he had aged like fine wine too.

Then Vince Neil and John 5 began to make their way back on the stage. Hell, all of Mötley Crüe had aged like fine wine, who were you kidding? John 5 was younger than the others but still looked fantastic in his 50s. Vince always copped so much hate on social media due to his weight gain, but fuck those haters because Vince Neil looked damn good for his age. And he had lost a significant amount of weight since their last tour back in 2015.

Mötley Crüe's good looks were not helping your sudden internal freak out though as you turned your head back to Nikki who was smiling at you like he knew what was running through your head.

"Afraid from Generation Swine or Knock 'Em Dead Kid from Too Fast For Love. You can pick which one you like better." You hurriedly answered the second your brain decided to actually function.

You were honoured to be able to choose the next song, but was worried that you'd pick a song the guys wouldn't like or a song that you couldn't remember very well. At least this way the four of them could decide which one they wanted to play themselves.

Nikki grinned, "I knew I picked you for a reason. You're clearly a fan. I like you."

Hearing those words coming from Nikki Sixx himself was something you didn't know you needed to hear. Your heart fluttered as you smiled at him but didn't dare trust yourself to speak fearing you'd either stutter your words and make a fool of yourself or just start bawling your eyes out from happiness.

"Fuck yeah! You have no idea how many people just pick the popular songs. It's boring." Vince's voice piped up through his own microphone.

"Why don't we play both?" John suggested.

Nikki glanced back down at you and opened his mouth to speak but then the crowd suddenly started shouting snapping his attention away from you abruptly.

The shouting from the crowd didn't sound right though. And by the way Nikki's body had turned tense on alert beside you, you knew something was wrong.

The fans in the crowd closest to the stage were all yelling and pointing at something behind you. Nikki quickly turned, his arm slipping from your shoulder as you spun around and that's when you saw the stranger running on stage.

Vince and John quickly backed away while security swarmed the area frantically trying to climb up onto the stage to stop the unknown man. Nikki raised his arm in front of your body almost protectively as the man turned towards you both with a crazed look in his eye.

Suddenly, he bolted straight towards you. But he wasn't looking at you. His wide eyes were zeroed in on one thing and one thing only, Nikki Sixx.

Security were hot on his tail. But the man was fast. Too fast. Then, he reached into his jacket pocket, and you saw a flash of a silver blade.

In a split second you realised two things; one, security weren't going to stop this crazy man in time and two, he had a knife and he was heading straight for Nikki.

Without thinking you pushed the bassist to the side not expecting your own sudden strength as Nikki fell off the side of the stage. But you didn't have time to worry if he was okay or not because the next thing you knew the crazy man crashed straight into you instead of his intended target.

You stumbled back a few steps at the impact but managed to keep your feet before shoving him off you. That was all the time security needed before they grabbed the crazy man who instantly started thrashing like a wild animal in their grip.

The crowd around you had turned eerily silent as they watched security struggling to contain the intruder. More guards jumped onto the stage to assist and eventually the group of them managed to get the man under control and began escorting him off stage.

Your heartbeat was skyrocketing. Body shaking with adrenaline as you breathed heavily watching the man still trying to fight the guards.

Wait, Nikki.

As if on cue, the bassist appeared out of nowhere after lifting himself up the side of the stage with a grunt before limping over to you. Guilt instantly washed over you because he was favouring his right foot and it clearly hurt.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" You hurriedly questioned rushing over to him on instinct as you looked down at his boot worriedly.

"Am I okay? Are you?" He questioned in shock his eyes raking over your body looking for any signs of injury.

But then his face drained of all colour and his eyes paused over your midsection and widen into saucers.

You frowned and followed his line of sight and had to do a double take when you saw the knife sticking out your lower abdomen.

The man stabbed you.

How the hell did you not notice that?

Suddenly, it was as if a switch had been flipped and the adrenaline soaring through your veins began to subside and that's when the pain started. White hot pain radiated through your body like a fire burning from within.

"Oh fuck." Nikki swore under his breath.

Without thinking, you reached down with shaky fingers and grabbed the handle of the knife.

"Wait, don't-"

You yanked the blade out before Nikki could finish that sentence.

It hurt. You needed to get it out. But that did nothing to stop the pain though. If anything, it hurt more causing you to cry out as the blade slipped from your now bloodied fingers and fell to the floor of the stage.

Blood began to pour from the open wound like a dam bursting. Oh, that was a bad idea. That was a really bad idea.

You quickly covered the wound with your hand knowing you needed to keep pressure on it to slow the bleeding, but warm red liquid was already oozing out from between your fingers, staining your shirt and dripping down your pants.

The crowd was silent as the thousands of fans watched on in pure shock. Mötley Crüe concerts were never quiet. Even between songs the crowd were up and around cheering and screaming, but not tonight. Nobody moved. Nobody dared to speak as they all stared at you in the middle of the stage.

Everything around you started to turn blurry as you took a staggering step back. Your legs buckling from underneath you but before you hit the ground, Nikki's strong hands were on you. Gently he eased your body down onto the floor moving slowly not wanting to hurt you further as he laid you down.

Suddenly his hands were removing yours from the wound so he could take in the damage but clearly didn't like what he saw as he cursed under his breath. His hands quickly pressed down against the stab wound on your stomach causing you to whimper at the pain it caused.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I need to keep pressure on it. I'm sorry." Nikki apologised, his sea green eyes filled with so much panic as he looked over his shoulder. "We need a medic!"

"We need a medic on stage!" Vince's voice repeated through a microphone loudly.

Nikki frantically pulled out the bandana from his back pocket and bundled it up before pressing the material against the wound. But the once blue and white fabric soon turned a dark crimson.

"Shit. Shit. Where's the medic?!" Nikki shouted desperately.

Vince suddenly appeared over his shoulder unsure what was going on but when he saw all the blood his face paled. The singer frantically ripped off his scarf and knelt beside Nikki pressing it down against the blood-soaked bandana causing you to wince at the pain.

"Fuck. What happened? Did he stab her?" Vince questioned taking in all the blood.

"He wanted to stab me. But she stopped him." Nikki muttered angrily through gritted teeth. "Where's the fucking medic?"

You glanced to the side just in time to see John 5 dropping his guitar and running off stage to find a medic as Tommy sprinted over but froze when he realised what was happening.

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Shh. It's okay, save your energy. You're gonna be fine, okay? You're gonna be fine." Nikki reassured, but you weren't sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

"Get that fucking camera out of here!" Tommy's voice boomed in the background somewhere, but everything was starting to spin as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Hey. No, no, no, wake up. Y/N, sweetheart, open your eyes." Nikkis voice begged before a hand suddenly cupped the side of your face and you forced your eyes open to find Nikki's panicked green one's looking straight at you. "Stay awake, you hear me? Stay awake."

"Sixx, it's not stopping." Vince warned grimacing at the now blood-soaked scarf he was still using as a makeshift bandage over the wound.

"Damnit." Nikki hissed, pushing his hand down harder in attempt to stem the blood flow causing you to groan in agony. "Sorry. Sorry. I know it hurts. I'm sorry."

"Just hold on a little longer, kid." Vince instructed while frantically looking around for the medic.

"There-there are worst ways to die." You winced, your tired eyes flicking between Nikki and Vince before Tommy dropped to his knees on your other side. His shaking hands hovered over your stomach not sure what to do to help as he stared at you helplessly terrified. "Dying with... with Mötley Crüe by my side ain't a bad way to-to go out."

"No." Nikki shook his head. "You're not dying. Not on my watch."

"It's okay." You whispered, his bloodied hand still cupping your face.

"It's not okay. Nothing about this is okay. Fuck! You shouldn't have pushed me out the way-"

"It doesn't hurt anymore. It's okay." Your voice was becoming weaker as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"Shit." Vince swore knowing that was bad.

The guys all looked around at each other their fearful panicked expressions matching. They didn't know what else to do and you were fading fast.

"Over here!" John 5 shouted sprinting back onto the stage with two paramedics hot on his tail. "She was stabbed and- fuck, that's a lot of blood."

The last thing you saw was Tommy and Vince trying to pull Nikki away from you as paramedics rushed over before everything faded into darkness.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

A/N: I am writing this purely for myself and if anyone else happens to read and like it, then that's a bonus. The first part of this fic was based on my own personal experience during their concert last year but obviously everything after going on stage is completely made up.

If I was the girl he asked to go on stage I would either just start crying or pass out... maybe both.

#nikki sixx #motley crue #motley crue x reader #motley crue fanfiction #tommy lee #vince neil #john 5 #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee fanfic #pov #imagine #fanfic #80s rock #80s music #glam rock

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demolition-lesbians · 1 year

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Rolling Stone #1119 December 9, 2010 - The Playlist Issue

(click for better quality) Here's the playlist if you want to take a listen! Transcript:

Gerard Way: Glam Rock

My Chemical Romance's frontman grew up a metalhead, but when he heard Iron Maiden's lead singer, Bruce Dickinson, cover Mott the Hoople's "All the Young Dudes," he discovered a whole other world, "I knew I had to find out more," Way says, "To some people, glam is just about makeup. To me, it's a very magical thing almost like witchcraft."

1: "Ziggy Stardust" David Bowie, 1972

This song defines glam. It was also the first thing in rock that really challenged people's notions of sexual orientation. Bowie actually sings about a man's ass! 2: "Children of the Revolution" T. Rex, 1972

You always knew Bowie would make it out alive and turn into another character; with Marc Bolan you didn't know that. He came across as very vulnerable. 3: "All the Young Dudes" Mott the Hoople, 1972

This is kind of a cheat because David Bowie wrote it for them, but I always preferred the Mott the Hoople version. By this point, Bowie was talking about the actual glam movement, which is why it's about kids stealing makeup and breaking into unlocked cars. Glam became about the kid in the room, the poster on the wall, putting on a women's short fur coat and eyeliner, with no shirt on, just listening to this music. 4: "Ballroom Blitz" Sweet, 1973

They completely break the fourth wall when the song opens up and they're calling each other by name. We emulated that on our song "Vampire Money." It literally starts out just like "Ballroom Blitz" does. 5: "Cum On Feel the Noize" Slade, 1973

Obviously, everybody knows this for the Quiet Riot version, but when you hear the original you realize just how bold it is. The soundscape they created is probably one of the best out of all the glam-rock bands. 6: "Love Is the Drug" Roxy Music, 1975

Roxy Music took the glam thing and then modified it. Bryan Ferry looks nothing like a glam artist, and that's what I love about him. He's wearing this great suit and he's got short hair and he's so romantic. Maybe some people wouldn't consider Roxy Music a glam band, but I do, for a lot of reasons. A major one is that they used to have Brian Eno behind the keyboard wearing feathers on his shoulders and eye shadow.

7: "Needles in the Camel's Eye" Brian Eno, 1974

Speaking of Eno, this is the first track on his first solo album. It's the glammiest track on the record. As soon as he finishes that song, he's almost over it, and he's moved on to something else. Besides Bowie, Eno is still the most important artist to me of the glam scene. When you heard his first album, you knew it was gonna be his last glam record. He just needed to do it once and he was done. 8: "Clones (We're All)" Alice Cooper, 1980

With "Clones," Alice Cooper was moving into the glam of the future, like this kind of Blade Runner replicant version of glam. Alice Cooper doesn't get enough credit for being a glam artist. A lot of people just say, "Oh, he's shock rock," but I think he's way more Rocky Horror than he is shock rock. 9: "48 Crash" Suzi Quatro, 1973

She's the most unsung glam rocker. She's also the prototype for the Runaways. "48 Crash" is one of her more aggressive songs. She looks amazing on the cover, wearing this black cat suit. Everything about the song is magic. 10: "Personality Crisis" New York Dolls, 1973

They were a lot more punk, but I will always consider the New York Dolls glam by the nature of how they looked and their attitude. They took glam to America and really challenged the sexuality of it. They also had Johnny Thunders, who's basically like the American Mick Ronson.

#can not describe the feeling of finding what issue this belonged to but man was it good #gerard way #glam rock #rolling stone magazine

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samcarpentersgirlfriend · 11 months

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Hi!!!! Could you do some MickeyxFem!Reader headcannons on what he’d be like as a boyfriend?

MICKEY ALTIERI AS YOUR BOYFRIEND 𖤐₊˚.

thank you for the request!!

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of making out + possessiveness

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

- SUCH A FLIRT omg but it works because he’s unsurprisingly super smooth with it

- it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been dating, he’ll hit you with a line that has your checks heating up and your mouth dropping ever so slightly

- which only serves to make him more cocky - he loves it when he has such a visual and profound effect on you - it makes him even more attracted to you in a weird sort of way

- will judge your taste in movies ruthlessly but if anybody else dares to do so he won’t let it go and will start a very heated argument on your behalf

- speaking of movies, you’re definitely his muse so to speak and uses you as the inspiration for the majority of his films

- make-out sessions in the back of the movie theatre obviously

-loves watching you get ready to go out - whether you’re putting on an outfit or doing your makeup, mickey will just stand leaning against the doorframe and watch you intently

- “mickey, what are you doing?” “what? nothing, nothing at all. as you were, babe.”

- will help you pick out outfits to wear when you need advice AND will come shopping with you for fun - he may grumble and complain under his breathe but you both know he’s secretly having a good time

- one of his biggest turn on’s is when you wear his clothes - he loves that it lets everybody know that your his girlfriend

- even though he has possessive tendencies, mickey isn’t really the jealous type - he trusts you and isn’t an insecure person, so he’s confident in the relationship the two of you have

- however, that doesn’t mean he isn’t incredibly defensive and protective when it comes to you - he’s not afraid to make scene if somebody won’t get the hint and leave you alone

- has told you numerous times that he would kill for you but you tend to just smile and brush him off, assuming he’s joking

- because why wouldn’t you? even though he can be abrasive and even straight up rude to others, he’s never been anything but sweet and attentive to you

- LOVES psychical touch - whether it’s his hand in your back pocket, on your thigh or his arm round your waist, he can’t get enough of it

- also strangely chivalrous - pays for you when you go restaurants, holds the door, giving you his coat he sees you even slightly shiver ect

- will pretty much help you with anything you ask him to

- a total little shit, obviously - he’ll ask you stupid questions just to be annoying and to see your reaction

- definitely a party person and will drag you to the dance floor

- refuses to let you walk home alone after a date. even if he has plans, he’ll push them back to make sure you get home okay (even when you tell him this isn’t necessary)

- will come back from class, lay his he’s head your shoulder and dramatically bitch about the people that he doesn’t like (it’s actually quite entertaining)

- “babe, they said that sequels suck! I mean, can you believe it? I mean, they obviously have shitty taste in movies but come on, it’s like they’ve never even seen T2! and then cici fucking cooper said I have a hard on for cameron- can you believe it? who the hell does she think she is?” “but mick, you do have a hard on for cameron.” “yeah, but it’s only okay when you say it!”

- on a related note, mickey’s a total gossip. when the two of you are just laying in bed, he’ll tell you rumours about people you’ve probably never even heard of

- can be very clingy at times

-kisses kisses so many kisses all of the time (he’s obviously the best kisser)

- will not hesitate to shut you up with a kiss

- obviously can be very manipulative without you even realising it - he’s a master at it, doing it so subtly that you don’t even it’s happening

- it’s one of the reasons why you barely fight, and on the rare occasion you do, mickey will convince you that there’s not even a problem and that the two of you are made for each other and shouldn’t be wasting time on stupid fights

- definitely they type to sing in the shower AND takes ages in the bathroom getting ready to the point that your banging on the door

- more into sentimental gifts than anything more “flashy” - for example, he’ll buy you an exact replica outfit or accessory of something your favourite movie character wore, or buy you a signed poster that he spent hours trying to get

#scream x reader #scream x you #scream imagine #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri #scream 2 x reader #scream 2 #mickey altieri x y/n #timothy olyphant #timothy olyphant x reader #fanfiction #scream fanfic #scream headcanons

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spookygingerr · 26 days

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When it comes to reading gallavich fanfic - what are your favourite genres/tropes?

Hi Calli!!

Thanks for asking :) I hope your morning/afternoon/evening is going well. ☀️🌅🌚

I feel like I read quite a lot of genres/tropes, it really just depends on my mood.

One theme that comes up a lot is Mickey being amazingly talented in something and Ian getting to learn about that world. So Cooperative Gameplay by Grayola of course, The Menagerie by @crossmydna and Africa by @ian-galagher. It's just such an interesting dynamic to me, I think it's because I find Mickey quite mysterious so I can imagine him in so many different worlds and I love being in Ian's POV slowly learning more and more about Mickey.

I also adore fic's that explore plot holes in Mickeys story, I'm currently reading anything I can find about Mama Milkovich, I recently read your 'weight of the world' and loved it!

A thing that I have always done, throughout every fandom I've been in, is try to find stories that have the characters going through something I'm going through. For instance, if I am struggling with anxiety and panic attacks I will look for angst of Ian or Mick going through those things and the other caring for them. It's just something that helps me process what's happening in my own life.

If anyone has fic recs for me I'd love to read them!

#yap yap yap #professional yapper #fanfiction #gallavich #Mickey being amazing and talented and mysterious #Ian and I in awe

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intheorangebedroom · 7 months

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Can we just pretend that this is Frankie whispering I love you to you?

I hope you are feeling better. I miss harrassing you with asks 🧡

@deadmantis my LOVE, I always feel good when you’re in my notifs. This one has kept me awake and drove me crazy, but anything for you. They’re so stubborn, and when they don't want to cooperate... Anyway. I'm not entirely satisfied, but I don't want to keep you waiting any longer. I did my very best for you, I always do, I love you so, so much 🧡 Happy Frankie Friday to you 🧡

Summary: Three words. It's not that complicated.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gabrielle Tourneur (OFC)/French fem!Reader.

Rating: explicit but no filth, just my gothic heart 🔞

Word count: 1.5k

[series masterlist]

Drabble: To Bring You My Love

He enjoys driving home to you nearly as much as he loves staying home with you.

Tonight’s no different, and when Mick Fleetwood’s voice comes up on the truck’s stereo, Francisco Morales smiles to himself in the bright city night.

He kept his promise. He fixed it. Fixed everything. Or close enough, anyway.

Friday evenings are spent at the bar again, the same dim yellow lights, the same moist, yeasty cheap beer smell. The same table.

And Tom’s chair, loudly empty.

Most likely thanks to Will, if he had to guess, and probably on your account more than his. But even Ironhead’s unwavering loyalty can only abide that many faults before his hard, cold rationalism takes over and prompts him to take action.

If Tom’s absence is a consequence Frankie hadn’t anticipated, it’s one he doesn’t regret. He’s heard the man has moved down to Florida, but he doesn’t really care. The further away from you, the better.

Pope doesn’t seem entirely dissatisfied with this new order of things, either.

As for Benny, well Benny just follows suit, like he always does.

The air is still a bit chill between him and Frankie, but they’re getting there, step by step. Frankie’s resentment receding along with his friend’s heartbreak, one drink at a time.

It’s been only two years, and overall, there’s a refreshing, easy balance to their group.

And yet, however meaningful, Tom’s departure is not the most important change.

On Friday nights, like tonight, he’s driving back to you. Whether he’ll find you already sleeping or parking your small Ford after an evening out, you’re here. For real. For good.

He’s nearly home when his phone lights up on the empty passenger seat. His gaze rapidly flickers between the road and the screen, that glares in celadon green in the cabin’s relative darkness. It’s weather alert, forecasting heavy rainfall tomorrow, he’ll have to fight the urge to drive you to the bookstore himself. Maybe he can get away with picking you up at the end of your day? Maybe you’ll let him. You can be stubborn.

He should change that impersonal default lock screen. Put a picture of you, like Santi suggested. Santi, who proudly exhibits Yovanna’s gorgeous smile and luminous beauty to just about anyone who might look at his phone’s screen.

Well, Frankie tried. Turns out he can’t. Not that he doesn’t have any pictures of you in his camera roll. At this point, he has hundreds. And you’re dressed in most of them.

But putting you on display simply feels inappropriate. For years, you’d been his secret. A ghost, a memory. A feeling akin to a curse. He had kept your name silent, protecting the possibility of your existence and the reality of what had happened in the orange bedroom.

Distracted, he re-emerges from his recurring thoughts to find himself at the front door. He considers retracing his steps to check if he locked the tuck before getting into the house, but he can’t bring himself to care. He needs to see you. The living-room’s dark but the bedroom lights are on; he takes off his jacket and gets rid of his boots before walking briskly down the carpeted corridor.

He finds you sitting in bed, the warm glow from the bedside table casting soft orange hues on your soft face. You’re leaning over a thick book, wearing your favourite t-shirt of his, a shapeless grey cotton tee with red letters that spell “Buenos Aires” across the chest. A gift from Izzy, when he was still in the military.

He pauses briefly on the threshold; a broad smile dimples his cheeks.

Your eyes are still lowered on the page when you greet him in a light, happy tone.

“Hey, gorgeous!”

“Hey, querida.”

Your head shoots up at the unusual term of endearment. He steps quickly into the room and turns his back to you to hide his embarrassment, wincing as he undoes his watch and places it on the dresser across from the bed.

“How was the evening? How’re the guys?” you ask, and he can feel your eyes boring into his back.

“Good. All good. Will asked me to tell you Sunday works for him. Apparently you’re supposed to know what that means,” he adds, pulling his plaid shirt above his head.

“Oh, neat!” you exclaim, lying your book face down on the table, wiggling your feet excitedly under the sheet. “The Guggenheim has an exhibition about early 19th century Parisian painters,” you explain.

He smiles to himself again, and proceeds to take off his belt. The heavy buckle produces a metallic thud when it hits the wooden top of the dresser.

Behind his back, your voice comes in suddenly very thin.

“You don’t mind, do you? I never asked.”

He turns, frowning, “Mind what?”

“Me. Being friends with Will. You’re not… jealous or anything, right?”

He’s about to laugh it off, a quip on the tip of his tongue, but something stops him. Something striking, unsettling in its past familiarity and its recent scarcity. It’s in the earnestness of your tone, the sudden solemnity of your gaze.

“What if I am?” he asks instead, pivoting to face you. “What would you do? Would you stop hanging with him?”

“If you asked me, yes, I would.”

“Jesus, Gabrielle, no,” he sighs, and the sting in his chest is equal part anger and regret. The consistent stab that tears at him whenever you unwillingly reveal what you put yourself through.

He crosses the bedroom in two strides to come sit by your side on the edge of the bed.

“I’d never even consider asking you something like that, baby. Why would I–”

He trails off at your hardening face.

You’ve straightened up in his t-shirt, and his eyes dart to your legs; with two fingers, he pinches the white sheet covering them to pull it down, revealing your underwear, and a purple mark in the shape of a pear that his mouth drew on your inner thigh this morning.

He looks at it when he says, “You’re a free woman. And I know you’re mine.”

The contradiction settles like placid water in the amber light between your two bodies, inexplicably logical, perfectly natural.

And the words come up in his chest, from his gut, an ancient rising tide.

“I love you, Gabrielle.”

They ring out around you in the quiet bedroom, incongruous, not unpleasant. Warm, intimate, orange.

He loves you. Of course, he does. You know he does, you’ve always known. You’ve always loved him too.

You’ve loved him young and carefree when it was easy and it was just the two of you. You’ve loved him to safety through countless godless nights. You’ve loved him back to you, you’ve loved him sinful and hurt, you’ve loved him without shame.

Yet, your breathing stops, your eyes widen. You remain silent.

He lets out a disheartened chuckle, before the crease in his brow deepens and his whiskered jaw gives that telling tick that you dread. You follow his dark gaze, it’s strained on the mark on your thigh, and he swallows thickly, licking his lips and you can’t feel your legs.

“Please,” he murmurs, so low, nearly silent, and it’s right there, bright and burning against your ribcage, but it won’t come out, your mouth is too dry and your lips won’t open.

He doesn’t lift up his eyes, instead his hand goes to your hip. He gives it a little squeeze, and you register the sensation, it travels up your body in slow ripples.

He pulls you in, sits you in his lap in a straddle, his hands roaming over your sides under his t-shirt. You let him seek the contact of your skin, how many times have the two of you sat like that? On the bed, on the floor, on the couch. In the truck or under a tent...

His denim feels too rough under your soft flesh. You recoil from the heat of his palms when he cups your face, but he catches you, firm and strong and he will never let go.

His eyes are alight with unshed tears, or perhaps it is yours, because your vision blurs when they finally meet.

“I need to hear you say it back. Please.”

In that tiled bathroom with the yellow light, all those years ago, you had nearly said it. To tame the wild look in his dark eyes when he had realised and briefly got scared. So early but not too soon, and the words had felt far too small in comparison to the feeling itself. You had chosen to soothe him with your touch.

You’d been the hopeful one, then, trustful and fearless.

Today, he is guiding you. With a light pressure of his thumb on your lower lip, the sharp edge of his nose brushing along your temple, his hand at the base of your neck grounding you, so you won’t go missing again.

“It’s ok, baby,” he says, and you feel his words more than you hear them with the white noise filling your brain, “I know you do. Just say it. I got you.”

You close your eyes, inhale his scent. You take his hand.

“Je t’aime.”

****

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mrsaltieri-real · 11 months

Text

Thrill of the Kill (Mickey Altieri X Fem!AFAB!GF!Reader)

You are Mickey’s accomplice to the Windsor college Ghostface murders and realise that you get off on the thrill of murder just as he does.

Warning/s: smut, blowjob, masturbation, gagging, choking, murder, sadism, readers a twisted fuck whose obsessed with Mickey (mood), discussion of murder, blood, gore, etc

A/N: I changed how Cici Cooper dies for plot reasons, Mrs Loomis isn’t Mickey’s accomplice at all the reader is.

It’s low-key kinda fucked up so don’t read if you don’t like violence or anything previously mentioned. This didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted but I can’t only rewrite so many times before I want to throw my fucking computer out of the window. If you do read on, enjoy!

——————————————————————————

2 days ago

“A practice run.” Mickey had explained, stood leaning against his desk with your Ghostface mask in his hands as you sat on his couch, listening intently as he spoke. “That bitch always has far too much to say. I want nothing more than to rip her vocal cords out so she she can’t ever speak again. But Cici Cooper is all yours, baby.”

“Jeez, Mick.” You’d laughed. “Is this because of her bashing sequels in film class?”

“Partially.” He said thoughtfully, tossing the mask and walking away from his desk to stand in front of you, his hand tilting your chin up and his thumb lightly running over the soft skin of your lower lip. “But mostly, I just want to see you rip her apart.” You smiled up at him, eyes fixed on his beautiful face as he continued to speak. “I’m so fucking glad I met you.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” You asked, shivering a little as his hand slid from your lip to caress your cheek.

“You want this just as much as I do. And you don’t even have a motive. You just want to kill people for me. Do you understand how fucking sexy that is?” He murmured in a soft voice, his hand moving from your face into your hair, gazing down at you in awe.

The plan was made. Mickey had his defense planned out to it’s very core, go to trail, blame the movies, which you were more than willing to assist him with, and you, well you were so unbelievably infatuated with him that when you stumbled across his plans a couple of months ago instead of being terrified like any normal rational person, you’d asked him if you could assist him.

You’d met Mickey during first year film class, and the attraction was instantaneous. He could see a hidden darkness in you that you yourself hadn’t truly realized yet and he made it his life’s mission to bring that part of you out of it’s shell. He’d introduced you to his true self slowly but hadn’t needed to worry at all, because as soon as he told you what he was planning you, much to his surprise, hadn’t even really been phased. More intrigued and fascinated with him. He loved how she admired and practically worshipped the ground he walked on. It stroked his ego in just the perfect way.

From an outsiders perspective, you were just a sweet dorky couple, fairly publicly affectionate. Mickey’s hands were never really off of you, always finding some way to make sure he had any kind of contact. Weather it was holding your hand, arm around your shoulders or his hand in the back pocket of your jeans it didn’t matter. He liked people knowing you belonged to him.

He was not insecure about your relationship by any means, he knew the last thing you’d ever do was cheat or even flirt with somebody else, but if he saw a guy so much as glance at you in a way he didn’t deem appropriate, he’d have a burning hot rage spread through his entire body which would only be cooled when you noticed and gently stretched up on your toes and kiss his scowling lips and whispering to him that if he wanted you to, you’d fucking kill them for him.

He loved how twisted you were, how passionate and how much excitement and anticipation you’d had for the upcoming murders. In a strange way, it made him feel less alone.

Now, with his fingers still tangled in your hair, he gazed down at you, thriving off of how you stared up at him like a blind person seeing the sun for the first time. It was that admiration that really did get him off.

“You excited about it? Killing her?” He asked you, gently beginning to pull your hair back until you made a little whimpering sound and nodded.

“Wanna show me how excited you are, sweetheart?” He cooed at you and now your response was much more eager.

“Yes.” You said, a wide smile spreading across your face as you fell straight to your knees in front of him, reaching for the waistband of his sweats, only for his hand to grab yours before you could even touch the soft material.

“What do you say?” Mickey murmured, his voice a little lower as he stared down at you with dark eyes.

“Please let me suck your cock, Mickey.” You begged, gazing up at him desperately. “I need to feel you in my mouth so bad, please please let me.”

He smirked down at you a little, loving the sight of your wide eyes pleading with him, the small pout on your lips as you begged him to let you blow him. He could feel himself swelling harder and harder as you relentlessly continued to plead with him, before brushing his finger lightly over your cheekbone and giving you a small nod.

Without missing a beat, you pulled down his loose grey sweatpants, looking lovingly at his already hard cock. Just talking about murder turned Mickey on to the highest extent. And the rush of the kill? No pussy could ever compare. Except one.

Your hand gently slid up his thighs, finger nails lightly grazing his skin, making him shiver a little. “Don’t tease me, Y/N.” His voice had a slight warning tone and as much as you wanted to ignore it, past experiences made you think better of that. The last thing you wanted was for him to deny you, and you knew that’s exactly what he’d do if you played with him. That was for him to do to you, never the other way around.

He let out a small groan when he felt your warm, wet mouth taking in as much as him as you could, moving his free hand to join his other one in your hair, pulling you closer until your nose touched the stubbly skin above his cock and you let out a soft gag.

You made sure to swirl your tongue around his tip just the way you knew he liked it as you bobbed your head, consistently making eye contact with him as you did so. His hands still gripped your hair as he forced you to speed it up, grinding his hips on your face till you could feel his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. The sounds Mickey made as he fucked your face made your clit swell and you crossed your legs, trying to cause some subtle kind of friction as you hummed with your mouth around his cock, saliva beginning to dribble out of your mouth and down your chin.

“Jesus fuck, baby.” He groaned, one of his hands moving right on the back of your head as he pushed your head as close to him as possible. You began relishing in the feeling of his thick cock filling your throat. “Fuckin- fuckin’ touch yourself.” he managed to stutter out between small pants as he continued to thrust himself in and out of your mouth.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. Your hand quickly moved down to your panties, shoving them aside as you starting gently teasing your clit, letting out a small satisfied moan as you did so. The feeling of him fucking your face mixed with your fingers circling your clit was driving you crazy, making you eager to take more and more of him as his thrusts sped up, along with the movement of your own fingers. The feeling of his dick gagging you repeatedly mixed with you rubbing your own clit was driving you absolutely insane. You could feel the tears start rolling down your face he did one more brutal thrust into your mouth, suddenly holding his position with his cock choking you, making it harder for you to breathe as you felt his seed spreading straight down your throat, causing you to splutter a little as he let out a long and satisfied groan, his head falling back a little.

“So fucking pathetic.” He laughed breathlessly, squeezing his hand into a fist around your hair and pulling you off him so he could look down at your face, his eyes mocking as you gasped for air. “Look at you, a fucking mess after you begged for it.” He laughed again as you coughed a little as you looked up at him with those same pleading eyes, his thumb wiping your tear stained face.

He tilted his head a little at you, seeing something else behind your eyes other than the deep satisfaction that you’d made him cum down your throat and his cocky smile turned into a small frown. “Are you okay?” He asked anxiously, still a little breathless as his hand still rested on your flushed cheek. “Did I go too hard? I’m sorry baby, I know I can get a little-“

“No! No it’s not that!” You said quickly. It was absolutely not that. You loved the feeling of Mickey abusing your mouth for his own pleasure, you always had.

“Then what is it?”

You took a deep breath, wincing at the sore feeling in your throat before talking.

“What if I can’t do it? Kill Cici.” You suddenly blurted out, eyes dropping to the floor, taking Mickey a little by surprise. “I mean.. what if I pussy out last minute?”

“Y/N.” Mickey’s voice turned stern as he moved his hand to grip your chin, so you were forced to look at him and he bent down a little. “You’re not going to pussy out. You were made for this, just like I was. You’ll see. You’ll feel the power of holding someone’s life in your hands and you’ll fucking thrive off that shit. You’re my girl, right?”

You nodded as much as you could.

“Exactly. And I’ll be there the whole time if something goes wrong, but it won’t. You are just like me.” His soft brown eyes and his words seemed to soothe you and his hand gently released your chin, satisfied that his little speech seemed to work. He meant every word of it. He knew you could do this because whenever he looked at you, he could see the exact same burning desire in his eyes that he himself had.

Although you appeared a little calmer, he still noticed something slightly uncomfortable in your face and body language as you shifted a little. Mickey looked you up and down curiously before his eyes widened in sudden acknowledgment of what the issue was.

“Didn’t manage to get off, baby?”

“You didn’t tell me I could cum.” You said, shrugging a little like it was obvious, the feeling of denial settling into your lower stomach.

“Ah.” He helped you stand up before gently pushing you down on his couch, his strong hands sliding up your inner thigh and a satisfied smile spread across his face when he felt your drenched panties and your still swollen clit through the thin material, the slight sensation of his fingers making a shiver pass through your body and a small whine fall from between your swollen and abused lips.

“Let’s fix that.”

——————————————————————————

You stood above the body of Cici Cooper and pulled the Ghostface mask off with one fluid motion, a sadistic smile plastered across your face, chest heaving with pure adrenaline and excitement. You couldn’t get over how amazing it had felt, sinking that knife into her chest and torso over and over again, relishing in the feeling of the knife slicing into her warm flesh and the sounds of her screams and cries begging you to stop, with your even more psychotic boyfriend watching you carefully and proudly as you did so. You’d never felt that kind of power, that kind of uncontrollable bloodlust in your life. It made you feel things you’d never felt before. It made you wonder why you’d never killed before.

“You did amazing, sweetheart.” He crooned, coming up behind you and kissing the back of your head gently. You turned around to face him, looking almost smug.

“You were right.” You said gleefully. “Killing really does make you feel-“

You were cut off by Mickey’s hands yanking you toward him by your waist, his lips melting against yours in a way that made you almost fall to the floor.

“Powerful.” You mumbled against his mouth and the laugh he let out was muffled by your lips.

You noticed how sensual the whole thing had been for you, how turned on you felt. It was a whole other experience to anything you’d ever felt before. Then you realised as Mickey pressed you against his body, you could feel his hard cock pushing up against your stomach from behind his own Ghostface robe. You relished in the newfound knowledge that Mickey watching you brutally murder that girl had turned him on too.

Because of course it did. The woman he loved was just as sadistic as he was. Loved the thrill of the kill exactly as he did. What’s hotter than that?

You wanted to deepen the kiss, beg him to fuck you right next to Cici Coopers corpse more than anything but he let out a small, groaning sigh.

“We’ve got to go.” He sighed as he pulled back, his hand reaching to cup your cheek. “We don’t wanna be here when the cops get called. We need to get to that party so we’ll have an alibi.”

You felt your lips turn into a pout and it made Mickey smirk a little, gently tracing the outside of your lips with his gloved hand.

“Fine,” you stretched up on your toes, you arms slinking around his neck and pulling his face back down to yours. “Can we at least fuck when we get there?”

Mickey let out a small laugh before nodding his head, hand still cradling your face.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

A/N: Ugh I hate this. But we move.

#scream #mickey altieri #scream 2 #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri x you

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deedala · 6 months

Text

🚑✨Weekly Tag Wednesday🪄💫

Hello Wednesday friends! I hope you don't mind but I decided to be CrEaTiVe and try something different today. I hope it's okay!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 🚑💨 Get in bitch, we're going on a mystical adventure through space, time, and reality. (in ian and mickey's ambulance of course) ✨ Name: Deanna🌱

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio♏

Personality type in enneagram, myers-briggs, or both: 2w1 and INFP 🌊

Before we hit the road, what snack are you gonna bring for our trip? popcorn!🍿

Navigator gets to pick the music so what song are you turning on? i believe in a thing called love by the darkness to get us PUMPED 🎶💥 What is a universe from a fantasy tv show you would like to visit? Pushing Daisies 🌼 it is so pretty and aesthetic i wanna eat some of ned's pie!!

And what about a fantasy movie? is it cheating to say the warcraft movie? (i ask myself in my own tag game) 😆 i wanna wander around stormwind and darnassus and ironforge and actually you know what im going on a whole gd tour of all three continents

Okay, how about a scifi tv show? ok since we're only visiting and not staying forever...The Expanse so i can ride in a space ship and explore the space stations🌌

And a scifi movie universe? i would like to go play around in the Valerian (2017) universe please that movie was so pretty 🚀

Any other tv show or movie universes you'd like to swing by before we move on? gosh...ok we gotta do a star trek. i think i wanna go to picard era star trek, good era, cool looking shit 🌠

Okay hold on to your butts we're switching gears to fanfic universes. Tell me which fanfic universe we're visiting first? i wanna visit cooperative gameplay by grayola universe so i can go watch all of mick milk and ians youtube videos 😆 📺

Cool, do you have one more you'd like to stop at before we head home? taking a hard left turn into dragon age land but the modern thedas in message sent by aicosu would be extremely cool to visit i think 🧝‍♀️🤳

Alright, on our way out of fanfic land you get to snag some tropes to bring home and apply to your own life, think fast! soulmates or enemies to lovers // coffee shop or flower shop // fake relationship or slow burn // amnesia or time loop // body swap or miscommunication // love triangle or arranged marriage // sharing a bed or drunken confession

Wow okay, hope those tropes work out for you!! Our adventure has finally come to an end, where in the world am I dropping you off? i dont live there anymore but please dump me in seattle thanks 🗻

and now to tag some nuggets to try out this game if you wanna @michellemisfit @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @heymrspatel @jrooc @mybrainismelted @suchagallabitch @sam-loves-seb @mmmichyyy @gardenerian @juliakayyy @sleepyfacetoughguy @gallawitchxx @lingy910y @sickness-health-all-that-shit @callivich @auds-and-evens @tsuga-of-mars @mickeysgaymom @crossmydna @tanktopgallavich @gofionaonthem @palepinkgoat @transmickey @rereadanon @sirrudo @creepkinginc @thepupperino @metalheadmickey @suzy-queued @grossmickey @ardent-fox @mikhailoisbaby @energievie @7x10mickey @vintagelacerosette @purplemagpie and you whoever wants to play here is you -> @💟

#tag game #weekly tag wednesday

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moltage · 11 months

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Been thinking about that cardigan *you know whoch one*. It's so soft and cuddly. So I guess that is the closest we get to the real Mick. Like w/o his demeanor or acting of a womanizer and arrogance behavior. Idk if that even makes sense. But yeah. I'm pretty sure that he would be even a little bit*a lot* insecure when he at some point falls in love. I'm seeing so much longing and big eyes a little bit sad a little bit hope and so much devotion. He would't openly approach them. He would think of some strategic and really comlicated even a long shot plan. Slightly manipulative. Unpopular opinion but I'm sure he is a romantic deep in heart and is kind of dreaming of that special someone who would give him peace.

Yeah I get I'm profiling a cardigan but I can't unsee it. And the way he is a little bit ashamed when he phones that girl and we found out he had something with her and everyone is like ofc he had BUT I'm sure he wants to be seen as more than just this by them. Bc he cares about them.

Goshhh that's too long

Will anyone even read it🤣🤣🤣don't care had to share it

anon. thank you so much for sharing this with me i am going to kiss you

and yes, i know which cardigan you're talking about and yes, i agree with you. i loved seeing *that* side of him even if it was short. almost vulnerable, a not often seen side of the usual "mick rawson" persona he keeps up. I mean, they were called for a case in the middle of the night so of course he's gonna be too tired to care 😂 it was sooo soft and I wish we'd gotten more of that look. 🥺

and love the way you profiled the cardigan. you're %100 right about mick being a romantic deep down. like have you seen this man and how much he cares about the people around him, but doesn't openly admit it often? you can see it in the way he treats his teammates, the way he'd do anything for them but he doesn't directly make it obvious.

i feel like there's a little bit of fear in there too. you know the whole "snipers feel invulnerable. they choose to keep people at a safe emotional distance" thing. which is why i also agree with the part you mentioned about seeing so much longing, hope and devotion in his eyes. because yeah, this man would absolutely give it all for the person he loves.

i think that's part of why he keeps up the whole "serial dater" persona instead of settling down for someone or letting anyone get close to him. I feel like he's scared. That's what he's used to, what he taught himself so it's easier for him to.. play around. pick up women or men as he pleases and all that.

also love the part abt him making a long strategic plan if he was in love bc YES. absolutely. 😭 this man's a MESS hahsjdh

and u didn't have to hurt me like that w the "he wants to be seen as more than just this by them" but ill let it slide bc ur observation was on point. ;]

anyway, mick rawson is a lover no matter how much he tries to hide it. we know what u are mick. i love the family dynamic in the show but it's even more precious when you look at it separately, from Mick's perspective. Just how much he cares about them and how much they care back. I love them so much.

sorry if i got off topic or talked too much but yeah thank you so much for sharing this with me, i really appreciate it. you get mick rawson so well!!!!!!

#like we don't see him open up about his past often yet he'd still do anything for his family #the way he's ready to give it all for Cooper. the way he was looking out for Prophet in case he was abt to leave.#how he personally asked Gina if she was happy when he learned she was gonna get married (deleted)#how he reassured Beth when she saved Mick's life 'we all have each other anyway'#LIKE DO YOU WANT ME TO KILL MYSELF #sorry. its just he makes me so sad #he's a sad little man with so much hope and love in his heart. he deserves the world.#and he deserves to be loved.#mick rawson #mik #answered #sorry for going off he makes me ill #cm:sb #cmsb

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biracy · 2 years

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Sooo many new movies to watch sooo many good movies to rewatch and my ass wants to spend an hour tomorrow rewatching The Nightmare

#i talked about it a ton to beck n now like. i can feel that fixation simmering under the surface #hope my link still works lmao #open mick night #alice cooper

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ailendolin · 26 days

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Hope - A BBC Ghosts Fanfic

Title: Hope [AO3]

Characters: pre-Nigel/Thomas, Jean, the Plague Ghosts

Summary: Thomas can't handle the quiet after Alison, Mike and Mia leave.

A/N: I began writing this after I finally got to see the final episode of Ghosts last January and couldn't stop thinking about how difficult that first night after the Coopers left must have been for the ghosts with the house being all quiet and everyone probably retreating into their rooms to deal with the new situation on their own.

————

Hope

It was late. Not yet past midnight but still later than usual according to the chime of the old grandfather clock that echoed too loudly through the silent house. Normally, Nigel and the others went to bed early just as they’d done their whole lives but today was not a normal day.

Today, Alison and Mike had left.

Alison had tears in her eyes when she’d come down to the basement to say goodbye earlier. It had been painfully obvious to Nigel that a part of her didn’t want to leave but he hadn’t told her that. He did not want to be the person making this harder for her than it already was. She’d made her decision, for better or worse, and all he could do now was support her in it. So he’d smiled at her and said, “Have a good life, Alison.”

And he’d meant it. He and the others did not begrudge her selling the house. They would miss her, though. She had always been kind to them – even if she did call them zombies, once – and made sure to keep the light on so they would not have to sit in the dark. Today, she’d turned off the light for the first time in years.

“I’ll leave the door open for you guys,” she’d said with one last smile. “I know it’s not the same but this way, you’ll at least have a little light when the electricity will be cut tomorrow.”

The moment she’d turned around, Mick started crying.

It was another reminder that everything would be different now, and Nigel wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The hotel would turn the house upside down and they knew their little corner of it would not escape the renovations. Alison had said they would love the sauna but he had to admit he was still a little sceptical about it.

“Won’t it smell if all the livings come down here to sweat?” he’d asked the others back when Alison had first informed them about the plans.

Geoff had shrugged. “Can’t be worse than us, eh?”

That had gotten a laugh out of everyone.

There was no laughter ringing through the house this night; no calls for dinner from the kitchen, no crying from Mia, no music playing. The quietness reminded Nigel of the time when Humphrey had been alive, and not in a good way, and he could tell the others felt it too. Even though no one said a word, it was clear none of them were eager to go to sleep that night.

So they talked – about the time Mike tried to repair the boiler and nearly blew up the house in the process, about that memorable night when Alison desperately tampered with the lights to imitate Robin, and that fateful Christmas Day a little over two years ago when Thomas’s portrait found its way down to them and caused all sorts of excitement.

“Thank god we’re over that,” Walter’s wife said and the others nodded in agreement.

Nigel glanced over at the portrait in the corner where it stood half-covered and among a myriad of other things Alison and Mike had left behind, and thought, Speak for yourself.

He might no longer be blinded by Thomas’s posed prettiness but that didn’t mean he didn’t find him handsome at all. There was just something about the way Thomas held himself that drew him in. Nigel had likened him to a flamingo once and he stood by that. Thomas was graceful, and his voice – oh it was the sound dreams were made of. Misty Glade might have been a mess of words and metaphors but Nigel didn’t think he’d even have noticed if the others hadn’t started questioning it because Thomas had recited it so beautifully. Thomas could read from the boiler manual for all he cared if it meant he’d get to listen to that beautiful deep cadence of his voice again or watch him prance around on stage playing a prince with all the pathos in the world.

If he were pressed to name the moment when he realised the portrait situation had been more than a passing fancy for him, Nigel would say it was the end of the panto. Thomas had looked so happy then – so completely at ease and content it had taken Nigel’s breath away. He’d never realised how beautiful Thomas’s smile was until he saw it that night in the gentle glow of the Christmas lights, and a part of him began to dream that Thomas would smile at him like that one day.

That was all it was, though: a dream. Nigel had never had any illusions that it could be more, which was why he didn’t tell anyone about what that foolish heart of his felt every time Thomas was so much as mentioned. Judging by the looks Jean sometimes gave him, he suspected she knew anyway. She seemed to have an uncanny sixth sense for this sort of thing – perhaps that’s how managed to hide her feelings for Geoff for so long, Nigel mused with a smile.

When he tuned back in to the conversation, the topic had moved from Thomas’s portrait to the panto.

“Oh, it was so much fun, wasn’t it?” Geoff’s wife said with a happy sigh.

“I did not like the sisters,” Mick grumbled.

Everyone groaned and gave him a look.

“You were not supposed to, silly,” Jean said. “They were meant to be like that.”

“Cinderella deserved better,” Mick insisted.

Nigel was just about to remind him that she ended up with the handsome prince in the end when the soft sound of a throat being cleared made him and the others turn towards the open basement door in unison. To his surprise, Thomas was standing there, looking terribly small and self-conscious in the gloom.

“Knock knock,” he said softly without looking up from his shoes. His fingers were nervously fiddling with the cuff of his sleeves, making him look restless and skittish. “I, uhm … didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”

“And yet you have,” Walter said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring him down. “What do you want?”

Thomas took an involuntary step backwards. His eyes flicked up, just briefly, but long enough for Nigel to see that they were a little too wide; a little too frantic and glassy.

“Sorry,” Thomas mumbled. He hunched his shoulders and turned away. “I’m sorry. I’ll just go.”

“No, wait!” Nigel said and before he knew it, he was across the room. Ignoring the irritated look Walter gave him, he gently touched Thomas’s arm – not to hold him back but to reassure him he meant no harm. “What’s going on?”

Thomas sniffed pitifully and hung his head.

“The house is so quiet,” he whispered. There was a lost look in his eyes when he glanced up, and a silent plea for Nigel not to make him spell out why he’d come here. It tugged at Nigel’s heart and crush or not, he knew in that moment that he would not send Thomas away to suffer this loss they all felt so keenly alone.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said softly. Giving Thomas’s arm a squeeze, he added, “Come on, you can sit with us for a while.”

“Excuse me–“ Geoff’s wife and Walter said in unison only for Jean to shush them both with a heartfelt, “Oh shut up, you two. We’ve got room for one more.”

Walter glowered at her. “Not if he starts reciting his bloody poetry we don’t.”

Thomas seemed to shrink in on himself at the sharp words and it took all of Nigel’s willpower not to rub his arm reassuringly – or turn around and punch Walter in the face. As satisfying as the latter might feel, he was not in the mood for a row with Walter, not tonight.

“Don’t listen to him,” he told Thomas instead, careful to keep his voice soft and gentle. “It’s okay if you don’t want to be alone right now.”

The small but grateful smile Thomas gave him did nothing to calm the butterflies fluttering nervously about in Nigel’s stomach.

“There’s enough people upstairs if he needs someone to hold his hand,” Walter muttered under his breath but a quick glare from Jean finally shut him up.

“They’ve all gone to bed early,” Thomas said with his head bent low as Nigel led him over to a corner. “We … we haven’t really talked, not since–“

His breathing hitched and he closed his eyes against the emotions threatening to well up inside him. As gently as he could, Nigel helped him sit down on the old stone floor before he joined him. He wasn’t surprised when Jean settled down on Thomas’s other side.

“It sucks sometimes, doesn’t it? Being alone with your own thoughts?” she asked kindly.

Thomas sighed and nodded, almost helplessly. “I keep thinking about what tomorrow will be like, and the following weeks and months and years, and I just – I can’t stop.”

Jean smiled in understanding. “So you came down here for a distraction because god knows we never shut up.”

Thomas hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry. I did not mean–”

“Hey,” Nigel said, cutting him off before the self-blame could take hold. “Don’t worry about it. We’re glad to have you here.”

“Some of us certainly are,” Jean smirked, not even trying to hide her knowing grin when Nigel glared at her.

Luckily for Nigel, Thomas neither noticed the silent conversation he was having with Jean nor the blush Nigel knew was creeping up the back of his neck. He just pulled his legs up to his chest so he could rest his chin on his knees and said, very quietly. “Thank you. I … I wasn’t sure I would be welcome, considering what happened last year.”

“Well, you were a bit of a prick, I’ll give you that,” Jean told him bluntly before her face softened into a smile. “But then again, so were we.”

“It was rude of us to interrupt you,” Nigel agreed. “The least we could have done was let you finish your poem before we started asking questions.”

Thomas blinked at them in confusion. “Why are you being so … nice about this? I … I called you names!”

Nigel exchanged an amused look with Jean before he shrugged and said, “To be honest I still have no idea what a wazzock even is.”

“And you know, it’s never too late to apologise for one’s behaviour,” Jean added gently. Almost stricken, Thomas looked up at her. She gave him an encouraging nod. “Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, Thomas met Nigel’s eyes. “I truly am sorry.”

He sounded so sincere that Nigel couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay. I’m not one to hold grudges anyway.”

He glanced over at Mick who stopped mid-sentence to stick his tongue out to him and then continued talking to John as if nothing had happened. Nigel grinned, glad they’d reached a point where they could gently joke about Mick’s role in their deaths now, and turned back to Thomas. Feeling a little brave, he gently nudged his shoulder and quietly asked, “Do you want to talk about today? About Alison leaving?”

Thomas stared at him, wide-eyed and looking terribly young, and for a moment Nigel could just imagine him as a little boy: all gangly limbs and with a heart that would always be too big for his chest.

“I’d rather not,” Thomas said softly and averted his eyes. His voice was thick with grief as he hugged his legs more tightly and added, “I just … don’t want to think about it for a little while.”

“That’s all right,” Nigel said easily. “What would you like to talk about instead?”

He expected Thomas to launch into a lecture about the finer points of poetry, or perhaps even a poem to keep his mind occupied and distracted. Instead, Thomas turned those expressive eyes onto him and asked, “Would you tell me about yourself? We’ve been living – well, ghosting – in this house together for nearly two centuries and I know little but your name about you.”

Oh, Nigel thought. Panicking, he looked to Jean for help. He wanted to say he was surprised to find her trying not to laugh at his predicament but he wasn’t. Giving her one of his most vicious glares which seemed to only make her press her hand to her mouth harder to keep from laughing, he turned back to Thomas and stammered, “Well, there’s not really much to know. I lived a rather boring life, I’m afraid.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Thomas said with such intensity that Nigel felt himself melt under his gaze. “Simple, perhaps, but not boring. Not with this lot around.”

He nodded to the other villagers and Nigel huffed out a laugh because Thomas had a point. His life, simply as it might have been, had certainly not been uneventful. So he started at the beginning. “The bluebells were in bloom when I was born. I was my parents’ second child. My sister Susanna was born two years before me, and my brother Henry three years after me. I loved them both very dearly but Henry was always sickly and …”

Just like that, he found himself talking about people he hadn’t thought about in decades and sharing memories he usually shied away from and preferred to forget. Nigel did not know why he was telling Thomas all those painful, private things. Perhaps it was because of the way Thomas was looking at him, silent but attentive – as if in that moment, Nigel had become the centre of his universe. Or perhaps it had just been too long since he’d talked about his family and their ghosts were tired of being forgotten. Whatever it was, not only Thomas and Jean were listening to him intently – the others were as well. No one interrupted him as he talked about his short life, and when he was done, Thomas gave him a soft, grateful smile that made him duck his head and said, “See? Not boring at all.”

One by one, each of them began to tell their tale. They didn’t even notice the hours passing until Lady Button’s scream echoed through the house, heralding a new dawn. Looking at the tired but content faces of the people he had known all his life and death as they settled down to sleep, Nigel smiled. They might have their differences but at the end of the day, there was no one he would rather be stuck with in the afterlife than them.

His gaze wandered to Thomas. He had fallen asleep on his shoulder, a warm, solid presence against his side, and his face looked more peaceful than Nigel had ever seen it. He felt his smile soften and suddenly, desperately found himself wishing that this were not a one-time thing – that he could be someone Thomas would seek out in moments like this; someone Thomas might even come to love one day, like Alison or Lady Isabelle. He was so tired of being alone.

“Don’t lose heart,” Jean said quietly. It was something his mother had once told him as well, back when Nigel had confessed to her that it wasn’t pretty girls like Jean who made his heart beat faster. There had been sadness in his mother’s eyes, then, but understanding and acceptance too, and he saw the same in Jean’s now when their eyes met in the dark. She did not make him any promises, did not tell him that Thomas would madly fall in love him, but she did tell him that he was not alone and that there was always hope.

And hope, Nigel thought as he allowed himself to lean his head against Thomas’s and close his eyes, was all he could ask for.

#thomas thorne #nigel the plague ghost #jean the plague ghost #norne #bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #my fic

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brighter-by-the-daly · 1 year

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Millie Bright x Reader

The All Clear

AN: just a quick lil thing I’ve written to celebrate today 💜

At the physio your girlfriend Millie was undergoing yet another fitness exam. The buzz around the World Cup squad announcement had spread through the building but Millie was hoping to be on the road back home by now. There had been a delay with some scans and paperwork she had to fill out for the end of season.

Millie’s perspective:

Glancing at my watch I knew time was running out to get back home in time for the 2pm announcement. I know I’m being announced on the team as Sarina called me a few weeks ago to see how my rehab was coming along. What was still up in the air is if I’m actually getting on the plane. I’ve been working so hard to be ready for the cup as it could be my last but I still haven’t been fit enough to train properly and the season ended without any minutes under my belt for a few months now. I’m nervous. I so desperately want to be on that plane, I want to take (y/n) to another country to watch me play, I want to be surrounded by my friends all summer. Now if this bloody knee could start cooperating that would be great please!

“Millie, can you see for a minute please?” the words of the lead physio echoed through the empty room and interrupted my negative thought spiral. Pulling myself up off the bench and into the office, I felt like I was a naughty school kid going into the headmaster’s office. “So, I know you’ve been talking with Sarina about making the World Cup and you’re worried about being ready in time. You’ve been working really hard on your rehab and I’m happy to tell you that you’re clear. You’ll be on the plane.” The words I’d been longing to hear didn’t sink in, just bounced off my ears and around the room until it hit me. A very delayed celebration came in the form of jumping into the air and screaming, slightly crying but extremely elated. “Thank you so much!” hugging my physio who’s done absolutely everything for me to get to this point, “you’re free to go” he said with a huge smile on his face.

Throwing my bags into the car and leaving the crutches behind - I need to get home, I need to tell (y/n). Glancing at the time, I think I should just about make it home for the announcement.

Your perspective:

“Mum’s late isn’t she?” petting the dogs on the sofa and glancing at your phone to see no new messages. Millie should be home by now and you were starting to get worried as you set YouTube up ready for Sarina’s press conference. It’s unusual not to hear from her in so long and she always texts you when she’s on her way home, maybe she’s been held up at the office. Flicking through your phone until 2pm came and your social medias were flooded with the squad sheet. There she was, your girlfriend’s name in black and white. You had no doubt that she’d be called up, it’s whether she actually makes it there that worries you. Nevertheless, you’d started packing for your trip abroad anyway. Millie always takes the mick out of your over preparation for holidays - starting to pack months in advance of the impending trip but you always remind her that she’s the one that forgets everything by doing it last minute. Sending your congratulations to the girls who also got called up, Sarina’s voice broke the silence in the lounge as all of your attention turned to the TV.

First question - are Millie and Lucy fit to play? Her answer vague yet a positive one. Listening intently to the rest of the interview until something made you rewind to play it again. ‘Did I hear that correctly? Millie being announced as captain? Oh my god, I did! Millie’s captain! My girlfriend’s the captain!’ Your mind racing with no one there to celebrate with apart from the dogs “did you hear that guys? Mummy’s the captain!” you stroked them excitedly as they climbed on top of you with their tails wagging. You barely listened to the rest of the conference just wondering where the hell your girlfriend had got to, has she heard the news? Did she already know and not tell you? Your phone calls didn’t connect as you started to get worried but you didn’t need to as soon after your third unanswered call you heard the familiar hum of her car pull up on the driveway.

Launching the dogs off the blanket as you ran to the front door and flying it open with excitement. The dogs ran out to the car, tails wagging and jumping up at your beautiful girlfriend exiting the vehicle. “Hey skipper” you winked as she approached you, met with a puzzled expression as she leant down to kiss you. “What are you talking about?” Omg, she doesn’t know! “You’re the captain! Sarina just announced you as captain!” your voice high and loud as you grabbed the remote to rewind the interview. Turning the sound up you let it play out, watching the news sink in on her face as her jaw dropped. “I’m so proud of you!” wrapping her arms around her neck watching her mouth turn from shock to pure happiness. Millie squeezed her arms around your waist as she picked you up off the floor “woah, watch your knee!” yelling and slapping her shoulder to put you down. Looking into your eyes she said the words - “I got the all clear, we’re getting on that plane baby”.

#millie bright #lionesses #millie bright x reader #woso masterlist #woso x reader #lionesses x reader #england women #england x reader

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itsgxsly · 2 years

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HARD TIME

Summary: mick is going through a rough moment and all he wants is to snuggle up in your arms

Pairing: mick schumacher x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 895

Even if Mick loved his job and all the adrenaline rush that came with F1, he hated the part where he had to be away from home for so long. At first it had been difficult to separate from his family, considering that he spent most of his time with them. But when he seemed to have gotten used to loneliness a little more, you came along. It had not been his plan to fall in love with you at any time, he just wanted to be nice to the new girl who had moved into the apartment next to him, but in a short time he saw himself depending on you more than he should, until one day he end up wanting to come back to you after every race. You were his comfort whenever he needed it, you never refused a call or a message even though you were busy. You had become an essential part of his life.

This weekend was no exception. Mexico had been a tough race for Mick. The car did not cooperate and the pressure of not having a seat for the following year fell more and more on his shoulders. On top of all that, not having his people around him took its toll on many nights, missing his parents and his sister, Angie and of course you. It gave him some comfort to know that you and Angie would be waiting for him at home, his apartment where you already spent more time than your own, and he was ready to walk through the door and curl up in your arms for a well-deserved break from everything.

The plane landed after a long haul from Mexico and Mick was almost flying so he could get in his car and get to you as soon as possible. The road that led to his apartment had never been as long as it was right now.

When he finally got the keys out of his pocket and walked through the door, he tossed the overnight bags to the floor and set the suitcase aside. He listened as Angie's footsteps echoed until they reached the entrance, where she threw herself at him with excitement to see her owner after a while.

"Hi girl how are you? have you missed me?" His tone of voice was low when talking to his pet. "I hope you behaved well with mummy"

When he finished greeting Angie, he went directly to his room, knowing that you would already be in bed asleep since it was early in the morning and even if you had wanted to wait for him, your body had not endured sleep. The image that greeted him when he got to the room made him fall more in love with you than he thought he could be. Your body was curled up on the side of his bed, the blankets covering only from your waist down, the rest of your body uncovered revealing one of his Haas jerseys with his number on the back. The image of you in his bed, with his clothes waiting for him asleep so peacefully made him want to hold you for life. He watched you in silence for a few minutes until an impulse got the better of him and he couldn't be apart from you much longer. He changed as fast as he could, stripping off his shirt to just a pair of sweatpants and got into bed next to you as carefully as he could so as not to wake you up, but it was no use when with a small groan you turned towards him.

"Mick?" your sleeping voice sounded adorable to his ears.

"Hey baby, I'm back. I'm sorry I woke you up."

“You haven't woken me up, babe, don’t worry. I have seen the race today. How are you?" you turned on your back, directing all your attention to what you could even while numb. Mick sighed in defeat, and that was your sign that your boy needed a little comfort and love tonight. You surrounded his shoulders with your arm, inciting him to snuggle into your chest, which he did without hesitation twice, sighing again, this time pleased by the comfort you gave him. You caressed his blond hair and his back making meaningless shapes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked after a while in silence.

“Not now, I just want to relax with you outside of everything. We'll have time to talk about that another moment” his voice sounded like a whisper dragged by the fatigue that filled his body, all your pampering favoring sleep.

"As you wish, love" you didn't press him to speak, but you directly returned to the cuddles, caressing the back of his neck and leaving soft kisses on his forehead, the tip of his nose, his cheek. Mick fell asleep after a short time and you knew it thanks to his relaxed breathing that tickled the crook of your neck. You placed one last final kiss on his forehead before carefully settling down to sleep as well.

"Goodnight baby. I'm sure everything is going to be fine” were your last words before sinking into a deep sleep. Although Mick didn't answer you, you knew very well how grateful he was to have you by his side in these difficult times.

#formula 1 #f1 weekend #mexico gp 2022 #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x y/n #mick schumacher #mick #schumacher #ms47 #haas f1 team

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charlie-pippin-faraday · 3 months

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Guys I got an amazing idea for a fic that I could write if I ever got my brain to cooperate — a House of Anubis 10 Things I Hate About You AU

Featuring Patricia as Kat (the angry girl everyone’s scared of), Eddie as Patrick Verona (the exotic bad boy paid to seduce her), Amber as Bianca (the popular daddy’s girl who can’t date until her sister friend does), Alfie as Cameron (the sweet awkward boy in love with Amber/Bianca), Jerome as Michael (Alfie/Cameron’s friend who orchestrates the whole scheme), Mick as Joey (the rich boy duped into being the backer for the scheme thinking he’s gonna be getting the girl), Joy as Mandella (Patricia/Kat’s friend), Mara as Chastity (Amber/Bianca’s friend), and possibly guest featuring Fabian as Bogey Lowenstein, the future MBA kid whose house gets absolutely trashed at a party. Haven’t decided on a role for Nina yet

Of course this also obviously means that Mrs. Andrews is the English teacher who’s #done with her students, Victor is the teacher in detention who gets flashed, and Mr. Sweet is the guidance counselor who writes erotic fiction

#ITS JUST TOO PERFECT #the roles fit too well it’s too good #(except for Nina but I can just throw her in as an addition I guess)#and as much as I hate jerome/joy I would be willing to write it for the sake of fitting with the narrative #I wanna write this so bad we’ll see if my brain cooperates with me enough to actually do it #house of anubis

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ear-worthy · 20 days

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SmartLess Podcast Welcomes Presidents Biden, Obama & Clinton

SMARTLESS’ UNITES PRESIDENTS BIDEN, OBAMA, AND CLINTON FOR HISTORIC PODCAST INTERVIEW

While one former president is in court defending himself against hush money payments to a porn star and to a Playboy playmate, three other Ex-POTUS's discuss gun violence, foreign relations, Biden’s re-election campaign, what they miss about being in office, the State of the economy, passing the baton Between Presidencies, and more on the Smartless podcast.

SmartLess hosts Will Arnett, Jason Bateman and Sean Hayes have brought together three U.S. Presidents, Joe Biden, Barack Obama, and Bill Clinton, for a historic podcast interview.

The momentous episode is available early on Amazon Music/Wondery+ here. It will be wherever podcasts are available on Monday, April 29.

The podcast interview was recorded in-person recently with the hosts and the Presidents in New York City.

SmartLess with Jason Bateman, Sean Hayes, and Will Arnett is a podcast that connects and unites people from all walks of life to learn about shared experiences through thoughtful dialogue and organic hilarity.

The award-winning podcast was launched in July 2020 and is consistently among the top five most listened-to podcasts monthly. Guests have included Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Don Cheadle, Larry David, Greta Gerwig, Idris Elba, Kristen Stewart, Pedro Pascal, Selena Gomez, and many more.

INTERVIEWS CLIPS AVAILABLE HERE:

Sean Hayes: Do you all miss something specific about holding office, obviously except for you because you’re in office, but do you guys miss something?

President Biden: I miss not having an office.

President Obama: Well, look, everybody talks about Air Force One.

Sean Hayes: Yeah, sure.

President Obama: Marine One. It’s pretty convenient, I won't lie. But I’ll tell you the thing I miss the most. Remember those music concerts I used to do at, you can basically invite anybody, and you have this concert and I mean we got you know Stevie Wonder, Paul McCartney.

Sean Hayes: Everybody will show up.

President Obama: They’ll show up. And they do these rehearsals the night before a lot of times and you can kinda sneak down and could just sit there and watch Mick Jagger practicing with BB King or something on a blues night. I do miss that.

President Clinton: I miss the fact that they don’t play a song when you walk in a room anymore.

Sean Hayes: We should’ve done that today.

President Clinton: I was lost for three weeks when I left office. But let me tell you something serious, this is one reason that I so badly want President Biden to be re-elected. What I really miss is the job. Not doing it, I'm glad, I believe in the two-term limit strongly, but what I learned was on the worst day, when nothing was going right, problems are everywhere, there was still something you could do that would make somebody's life better. There is no job like that on earth.

Sean Hayes: I love that.

Clinton: And I want somebody..

President Obama: Who appreciates it.

President Clinton: …that I trust to make the most of that every day. Cause they’ll be bad days no matter who gets elected. But he’ll get up and he’ll start thinking about that. And I think his opponent will be thinking about…

President Obama: Himself.

President Clinton: …yeah, who I can get even with, who I can send away. Joe Biden will make the best of the bad days.

Jason Bateman: And the team that you have assembled and your comfort with deferment. For me personally, I love leaders that have the confidence to hire those that they respect, that might make them a little nervous.

Will Arnett: And also not to think that you're the…

President Obama: That you’re the smartest guy…

Will Arnett: Yeah, that you’re gonna have every…. We had leaders like that in the middle part of the last century who were put into government by presidents of old, and they made a lot of decisions that they thought they were right about, and they were terrible people. And when that happens, when you think that you’ve got all the answers, is the moment you don’t.

Jason Bateman: Like Ron Klain, bringing us out of COVID. It’s just on and on and on, the way in which you’ve surrounded yourself with the absolute best this country has to offer.

President Biden: I made a commitment, having an administration that looks like America. I have more women in my cabinet, I’ve appointed more Black Circuit Court judges than every other president combined in American history. I’ve kept my commitment about putting a Black woman on the Supreme Court. I’ve had an opportunity to go out and get the best people - and by the way, I sometimes pick up the phone and ask these guys who they think are the best people. And I’m looking for people that most of all, not just are good, but care about what they’re doing.

Jason Bateman: Whereas the other guy is only hiring people that won’t talk back and that’s…

President Biden: Oh mine talk back.

CLIP 2 - Download Here

Sean Hayes: What are the issues coming up that people are focusing on that you believe are the wrong things, or they may be the right things, and what should they be focusing on?

President Biden: I think they should be focusing on a couple of things. Number one, we’re gonna, in the second term, God willing, we’re gonna make sure that we do something about gun violence in this country.

Will Arnett: Yes.

President Biden: The idea that we allow assault weapons to be sold, and magazines with 100 rounds, is just bizarre.

Will Arnett: Well, President Biden, I’m so glad to hear you say that because that was gonna be my other question. Which is, the Democrats never say we want to take your guns away.

President Biden: Absolutely not.

Will Arnett: You never said that, you said we gotta be smart about what’s going on.

Jason Bateman: You don’t need to kill a deer with an AR15.

Sean Hayes: Right.

President Biden: The Second Amendment, when I taught law school, the Second Amendment wasn’t absolute ever. You weren’t able to have a cannon when you were, you know, the liberty is ordered with the blood of patriots. I mean, it’s a bunch of crap.

This episode of Smartless will be available wherever you get your podcasts on Monday, April 29.

#podcast #podcasting #presidents #politics #democracy

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