#or as mickey would say 'sex VIDEO'

[gallawitchxx]

it wouldn't be sex tape day if i didn't at least shout-out the masterpiece that is cinematic by @metalheadmickey & @heymrspatel , but also while you're at it, check out this delectable ditty that was gifted to me by speedy-fingers-mcgee @suchagallabitch

• • • • •

day 13: sex tape for kinktober 2022 by @gallavichthings

• • • • •

“Fuck, baby, would you look at yourself? All spread out and open for me... Shit, I’m the luckiest motherfucker.”

You like watching yourself. 

You haven’t always, but you do now. You get it, you see the appeal. Gets you fucking hard to see how lost in the sauce you are, how eager and willing you become.

But it’s really what it does to Ian that makes it all worthwhile.

Seeing you on tape makes him babble and sweat, grab you by the hips and pull you close.

Intimate. 

The way other couples think about flowers or a home-cooked meal.

#seriously though jessie has gifted us with so many sex tape fics? #or as mickey would say 'sex VIDEO' #what a strange but beautiful thing they made canon #day 13 #catch up by clicking this tag -> #dirty drabbles #all drabbles all 100 words all experimental #no plans just fun 🖤👻 #shameless #shameless fanfiction #gallavich kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ian x mickey #bee writes 🐝 ✍🏼

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Take On Me

Summary: What happens when the love of Bob’s life finally makes a move…the night before he deploys? Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is an entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked a-ha’s song “Take On Me.” I hope y’all enjoy! This is Bob’s side story from my Jake series, Invisible Smoke. But you don’t need to read that to read this. Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, unprotected sex, cockwarming (?)/unrealistic post-sex activities, angst (with a happy ending), being bad at feelings

Bob didn’t particularly like nights before deployment. There were the obvious reasons—being shipped out and stuck on a carrier for weeks on end wasn’t exactly the best part of his job—but the pageantry of the night before, the dress whites, the careful goodbyes, that was what he really hated.

Natasha had dragged him to the Hard Deck so he could at least say goodbye to a few friends in person since he had already video called his family. He watched Natasha pull Bradshaw out onto the deck for a quieter moment alone. It was about time they got together. Bob had been one of the few who knew about her feelings for their fellow aviator and he had accidentally discovered that they were reciprocated a few days after the Uranium Mission. It really had been kind of ridiculous watching them dance around each other for months.

He was happy they were finally together. Really. Who wouldn’t be happy to see two of his closest friends be happy? But it really just twisted the dull knife behind his ribs that always came when Bob realized how alone he was. He didn’t have someone to say goodbye to like that.

Penny gave him another ginger ale with her usual sweet smile before he started back toward the table in the corner where he’d left his hat. He pushed through the crowd, earning a few slaps to his back and claps to his shoulders by other patrons who knew what awaited him in the morning, and settled back into his seat with a sigh. He scanned the crowd, seeing Harvard and Yale chat up two women on what looked like a bachelorette trip and then Payback and Mickey dancing with their wives near the jukebox. Payback’s wife, a stunning woman named Sidney, pulled back just enough to wipe tears from her cheeks. Payback gently knocked her hand away and finished for her before kissing her forehead. Bob turned away, feeling like he was intruding with a persistent tightness in his chest.

And his traitorous mind conjured your smiling face, bright and happy.

What Bob had with you was…nice. It was quiet and gentle and strictly platonic, right now. Bob would never understand how Hangman was the one to introduce you to him.

“Trust me, Baby on Board, you’ll love her. She’s perfect for you.”

Bob had been fully prepared to grit his teeth and bear whomever Seresin had deemed ‘perfect,’ and expected to meet an Instagram model or a gym buddy of his—not that there was anything wrong with them, they were usually lovely but just a little intense. But then you walked in.

You with your thick-rimmed glasses and soft smile and softer laugh.

While Jake bragged on your behalf, stating that you were the best CPA in the city, the only person he’d trust with his taxes, andthat Penny trusted you with the Hard Deck’s books, you fiddled nervously with the bendy straw Penny had given you in your little cup of pop.

It was Jake’s fiancée—a good friend of Bob’s who deserved the world, if anyone asked him—who quieted the man’s well-meaning rant with a hand on his arm. “I think he gets it. She is amazing.” The other woman winked and earned a soft smile from you before turning back toward her fiancé. “But you still owe me a game of pool, yeah?”

As the couple walked away, leaving you and Bob alone, your (beautiful) eyes tracked up to meet his gaze. Your smile was small and soft and you drummed your manicured nails against the plastic cup in your grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”

And that was it, really. You had asked Bob if he knew how to play pool and then he offered to teach you. That led to soft giggles and missed trick shots and then quiet conversations about your lives and phone numbers exchanged before you parted ways for the night.

It was…good. Really. Even if it always teetered on the edge of becoming something more but never did.

Bob liked your good morning texts and the way you insisted on paying for brunch every time you invited him to try a new restaurant that just opened up. He liked that you didn’t mind helping him get the rest of the Daggers home from the Hard Deck if they had one drink too many. He liked that the people he trusted with his life liked you.

He…liked you. And he knew it was getting dangerously close to a different L word and that just had his mind circling back to how much he hated nights before deployments. You weren’t here. Bob didn’t blame you, of course. One of your more “difficult” clients had needed your attention immediately and had flown you out to Los Angeles about a week ago and Bob hadn’t wanted to disturb you with the news of the deployment. He’d asked Jake’s fiancée to tell you when you got back into town and he had an email queued up to be sent to you, too, crossing his fingers that he’d be able to still talk with you when you both had a moment to spare.

His gaze once again roamed around the bustling bar and unintentionally picked out all the couples. Dammit. Maybe, he just needed to get some sleep. He needed to be on the carrier early tomorrow morning anyway and wallowing in self pity wasn’t really a good waste of time. He finished his soda and waved to Penny and then placed a few bills on the bar to cover his tab before setting off toward the door.

This was good. He could get back to base and get some sleep before getting to the carrier just after dawn. But, as he moved around a rambunctious pair of lieutenants jockeying over their stances for darts, he nearly collided with a solid, soft body.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

Familiar hands pressed at his chest in a bid to stay upright and the scent of rose and amber immediately flooded his senses. And Bob knew immediately it was you.

Bob set his hands on your hips with a growing smile and watched the realization dawn on your face. “Bob!” A smile he could see in his dreams broke across your lips before you wrapped your arms over his shoulders in a tight hug. “I’m so happy I caught you. I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.”

It took Bob a moment to shake himself free of the shock of your arrival and gave you a smile of his own. Some higher power was laughing at him right now (or maybe it was just Seresin) because Bob thought you’d never looked more beautiful in your short dress with buttons all the way down the front and strappy heels. “I didn’t know you were back.”

Your smile widened the slightest bit and you glanced at something over his shoulder, raising one hand to wave at someone. Bob turned in time to see Jake and his fiancée both raising their glasses in his direction. They knew. They had planned this.

But, when one of your hands swept over his shoulder to rest over his happily thrumming heart, all the embarrassment and gratitude he could have expressed at that moment crumbled away. He could deal with them later (and by ‘deal with them,’ Bob meant probably buy them a round and say thank you).

“Want to get out of here?” You asked, fingers brushing over the carefully arranged pins on his chest before thumbing at one of the ornate buttons of his jacket.

Bob knew you didn’t mean it like that, despite your wandering fingers, but he still had to suck in a quick breath to steady his thoughts before smiling. “Yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.”

You were quick to drop one of your hands to his, tugging him toward the door with a soft laugh he knew so well. The night air was tinged with salt water and the barest hint of spilled beer as soon as you stepped outside and down the handful of steps onto the parking lot. You gave him another smile over your shoulder as you started, “I hope you don’t mind-”

Bob fought the urge to say something that had been on the tip of his tongue for months and instead settled for, “you have to know that I never mind.”

You laughed again and shook your head but the noise quickly stalled when your foot connected when one of the concrete parking dividers and you nearly toppled for the second time that night. Bob tightened his grip on your hand and kept you upright with a quick tug that had you stumbling forward until you collided with his chest with a soft ‘oof’ and you laughed as you tucked your face into his jacket for a moment. You had a habit of doing that, hiding your smiles in the safety of Bob’s body. His neck, his chest, his shoulders, his arms. All of them had been places for you to squish your face. He never did mind, happily accepting any sort of physical affection you would bestow. Knowing you trusted him enough to keep you safe when you felt vulnerable.

Again, Bob knew he was dangerously close to that other word.

“I swear I haven’t had a drink at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” Your voice shook and Bob tried not to read too much into that either as you looked down and groaned. “Oh, maybe that’s why. My shoe’s come undone.”

Bob didn’t even blink before kneeling on the pavement and grasping at the delicate straps. He could feel the heat of your skin as he carefully threaded the strap through the buckle again and as he tugged it closed again, the pads of his fingers brushed against your ankle and you were just as soft as he imagined.

What he had not imagined was the shiver his simple touch would elicit from you. You let out a strange, stuttering breath as Bob looked up at you. Oh.

Maybe it was the growing adrenaline from the impending deployment, or maybe the way the low lights were reflecting in your eyes, or maybe it was a dawning realization that you could maybe feel the same as he did. His fingers trailed up your leg as he took his time standing, almost smirking when he felt how goosebumps raced across your skin.

Your next breath stuttered and Bob felt it against his neck as he finally stood straight and once again settled his hands on your hips.

“I um…” Your throat bobbed. “Th-thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

His position and training as a WSO had Bob picking up on minute details, but he’d always been that way. He was the kid who was delighted with a ladybug landing on his jeans when the rest of his family watched booming fireworks on the Fourth of July. So, he noticed when your eyes flickered down to his lips. You moved closer and your lips puckered.

You were going to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him.

But Bob didn’t move forward to close the distance, no matter how much he wanted to and he watched your face crumple.

“Bob?” Your voice was weak as he took a small step back; Bob didn’t let you go far and kept his hands firmly planted on your hips. He wouldn’t let you go. Not yet. “Did I do something wrong? I…I’m sorry. I thought-”

But he just shook his head, ducking his chin the slightest bit toward his chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. I just want to make sure this is what you actually want and not because I’m shipping out in a few hours. Deployments make people think-”

You moved to grasp his face, trying to tilt his chin just enough to make him look at you again. There was a desperation in your gaze that let him know that you needed him to hear you, make him understand. “Bob, I can’t lie and tell you that this deployment has nothing to do with it, all right? But this is the first time you’re being sent away from me. I know these things can be dangerous. I know that. I’ve heard horror stories about…” You couldn’t even finish the thought and shook it away. Your thumbs pressed gentle arcs into his cheeks before you dropped your hold. “Let’s just get out of here, okay? We can pretend none of this happened and just go get ice cream and sit and silence and watch the water until you’re sick of me.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you,” Bob said, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even think of how that would sound to you.

An unsteady smile pushed at your mouth as you took a step backward and then another and another until you were leading him toward your car—Bob quickly redirected you toward his trusty GMC and opened the door for you with a smile of his own. The air in the truck’s cab was tense for a slow song or two, just long enough for you to squirm in your seat until Bob reached over and grabbed your hand.

He didn’t want to upset you—it wasn’t an outright rejection, not at all—he just wanted to be sure that you wanted him like he wanted you.

Bob didn’t do this. He didn’t spend the entire night talking, laughing, pretending he didn’t have to disappear for a few weeks. But with you it felt right. It felt like he should have been doing this with you for months. Years.

Ice cream was purchased at a small roadside shop and Bob pulled onto an overlook and shut off the truck, letting the dim moonlight fill the cab as you both quietly ate your sweet treat—strawberry for Bob, pistachio for you. It was calm and peaceful, a far cry from the noise of the Hard Deck, but he could feel when you started to get nervous again, curling your hands into the skirt of your dress for a moment before starting to fiddle with the cloth-covered buttons on the front.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the deployment?” You asked, and Bob could hear the trepidation in your voice. You turned in your seat to face him and Bob was quick to do the same and you both scooted a little closer to each other on the bench seat, legs awkwardly skirting around the stick shift. “I would have come home sooner.”

But Bob just shook his head and felt his nose scrunch as he tried to pick his words carefully. He didn’t stop until he felt you trail your finger across his brow, wordlessly telling him to relax. Bob couldn’t even remember when you had started doing it, but he had savored it every time and felt his shoulders slump while he finally found the words. He carefully reached up and grasped your hand, linking your fingers together for a moment. “I don’t think I knew how to say goodbye to you.”

You searched Bob’s face and he tried not to hope too much with the look in your eyes. “Bob, I… you don’t have to have anything special to say to me. But please just say something.”

Bob didn’t even realize he was moving until his lips were firm against yours, almost unyielding. Your glasses clicked together as his hand anchored itself on the back of your neck and tilted your face just so but neither of you seemed to mind. He could feel your smile against his mouth.

Your fingers sunk into his hair as his tongue slid against the seam of your lips. He’d give you anything anything anything, and this was no different. All his thoughts about the deployment, about what waited for him in the morning, flew out the window as he hauled you closer, pulling you onto his lap. The warmth of you immediately sank through the heavy fabric of his trousers and he groaned. The noise earned him a breathy sigh against his mouth and your hips sinking and rocking against his again.

“I wanted to do this right. I wanted to do this right with you,” Bob murmured against your mouth as his fingers swiftly undid the buttons down the front of your dress.

“You are,” you said, tone breathy and bordering on needy. “I promise you are. This feels right. Everything feels right with you.”

Bob’s fingers stalled and his bright blue eyes moved up your face until they were boring into yours. “Sweetheart…”

“I mean it,” you said. “Everything feels right with you.”

It might have been less of a shock for Bob if someone had hit him in the chest with a baseball bat. Something whispered at the back of his mind to tell you, to tell you now and make sure you were saying what he thought and hoped you were saying. But he didn’t. Because wouldn’t that be cruel? To draw that out of you before leaving for weeks at a time with no firm promise to return to you? So, instead he kissed you again and tried to press into his mind the way you felt against his mouth as he pushed your dress from your shoulders. He moved to press you down across the bench seat and licked at the thrumming pulse in your neck as he peeled the little scrap of lace down your legs and then shoved them into his pocket.

He would keep those.

Bob moved, knee knocking into the steering wheel for a moment, shoving himself between your thighs after shrugging off his jacket. He pressed a kiss to your ankle, your knee, your thigh, before nosing at your perfect hip bones.

“Bob,” you whined. “Bob, please.”

The salty tang of you was immediately addicting and Bob wrapped his arms over your thighs and dragged you closer closer closer with each flick and twist of his tongue. He could do this forever. He shouldn’t have waited this long.

Your fingers curling through his hair knocked any other thought right out of his head and all that was left was you you you and how your thighs clamped over his ears as you came.

When your legs stopped shaking enough, you hooked your hands behind his head and hauled him up, pressing a rushed, sloppy, perfect kiss against his mouth. Bob’s hands skimmed over the soft skin of your thighs as he settled between them, feeling your wet heat soak his skin.

“Please,” you whispered against his mouth. “Please.”

Bob’s knee hit the horn when he went to shove his trousers and briefs down and he was embarrassed only for a moment but laughed along with you as you dragged him back into your hold, kissing him sweetly as you helped him move back into the cradle of your thighs. You felt divine. Warm, wet, and tight…and perfect. And every movement felt even better. You were clawing at his back as Bob mouthed at the swells of your breasts. You were everywhere, he was everywhere, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whimpered when he raised his head again to lick into your mouth.

Faster and faster, Bob drove into you until you were shaking in his grip, sighing against his spit-slick lips and Bob was quick to follow, collapsing over you and hips rutting into yours lazily in a mindless haze until you whined against his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured as he maneuvered just enough to press up onto his forearms on either side of your head. Bob didn’t move to pull out, not just yet, enjoying your warmth for a little longer. Just a little longer.

You were beautiful. Sweaty and makeup smudged, you were gorgeous. Bob trailed a finger across your cheek, catching a tear as it slid from your eye.

“Sweetheart?” Did he hurt you? Did something happen-

“Stay with me?” Your eyes were wide and pleading as your grip tightened on his shoulders just a fraction. “Just… Can we just stay like this a little longer?”

Something in Bob’s chest twisted, almost uncomfortable, almost too close to that other word. But still, he said, “of course, sweetheart. Of course.”

The conversation that followed was soft and quiet, filled with everything and nothing, and Bob’s eyes slowly closed with the sound of your heart and the waves outside lulling him to sleep.

A noise woke Bob up some time later. It could have been a passing car or the waves against the shore, it didn’t matter, really. It was still before dawn, the sky an inky shade of blue. He turned to the side, his back protesting the slightest bit, and saw you beside him. Your mouth was parted with sleep, soft breaths escaping in deep, even intervals.

You were beautiful.

And he had to let you go.

**

You hardly remembered waking up and getting dressed again. But you remembered leaning out of the truck to straighten Bob’s hat atop his head. Last night had been perfect and tinged with some sort of unspoken melancholy. Why had you waited so long? “Can I…can I come with you to the carrier? Wave you off?” It was a selfish ask, but you wanted more time, just a little more to cling to before your heart leapt out from between your ribs to try to follow him out to sea. For one of the few times in your life, you knew it wasn’t better to be safe than sorry. You had to take a chance.

Bob’s unfairly pretty blue eyes nearly sparkled in the low light of dawn as he smiled at you. “Of course, sweetheart.”

The ride out to the carrier was quiet aside from Bob asking if you could drop his truck off with Bradshaw. You readily agreed and hated how your stomach twisted when he parked. The imposing behemoth of a ship loomed on the horizon and you walked beside Bob, his duffel in hand, as you weaved through the early morning crowd. He slowed to a stop a few paces away from the carrier’s ramp and turned back to you.

You watched his jaw flex, tight and wanting, and you wanted to tell him how you felt, how you had felt for months, and you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue but they crumbled to nothing when the carrier blared its horn, calling everyone in and pulling Bob’s attention for a moment.

Tears started to build at the backs of your eyes as the carrier blared its horn for a second time. You had to let him go. You just learned what it was like to have him, and you had to let him go.

Bob turned back to you and you recognized the determined set of his jaw as he reached for you after dropping his bag at his feet. His hands smoothed up your arms and hooked at the back of your neck, thumb pressing an incessant pressure at the hinge of your jaw. You could have melted then, you were puddy in his hold and it almost made it worse. “I shouldn’t ask you this. It’s selfish and cruel-”

“Ask me anyway,” you said, the syllables cracking in your throat.

“Will you be here when I get back? Will you wait for me? I know it is a lot to ask, to take me on and-”

Those damn tears came back and you surged forward to press your lips to his again. The kiss was unhurried and uncoordinated but you couldn’t pull away. Not just yet. Not until your lungs burned and your cheeks felt cold. “I’ve been waiting for you for months. What’s a few weeks more?”

Bob’s smile was small but you knew you’d remember it for the rest of your life. He kissed you, soft and breathless, before scooping up his duffel again and walking backward toward the ramp. He was keeping his eyes on you. And you wouldn’t look away. Not now.

In eight weeks’ time, you’d be back here, ready and waiting. And you knew he’d come home. To you.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

#Bob Floyd x reader #robert Bob Floyd x reader #bob x reader #robert Bob Floyd fic #tgm fic #tgm #female reader #top gun rocktober

[shuttershocky]

Warren Spector (known for a LOT of stuff, but most known in the mainstream for Deus Ex) just wrote a blog post about his 40 year career in game development, a truly spectacular feat considering this industry grinds up way too many developers in less than 5.

There's SO much to go through, but some highlights for me were:

Wing Commander is why video game expos to this day play their sound so damn loud. When they displayed the game the devs bought a home theater setup and set it to max volume to grab as much attention as possible

Deus Ex became a reality when Spector told Paul Neurath to shut down Looking Glass' studio in Austin (his own studio) to save the company, saying "I'll find another deal. We'll be okay." In came John Romero to the rescue promising Spector the biggest budget he's ever had, the biggest marketing budget he's ever had, and zero creative interference to make the game of his dreams if he joined Ion Storm. That became Deus Ex.

Spector's original pitch for a cyberpunk game was actually a sci-fi spinoff of Wing Commander called Alien Commander, but Doug Church had a similar pitch that he loved more than his own, which became the landmark title System Shock.

He's often credited as the creator of Thief: The Dark Project, but Spector insists he worked on it for 1 year out of its 3 year development and the credit should go to Doug Church and Greg Lopiccolo.

Spector originally wanted to be able to fight in Thief because sometimes stealth was too hard, and the other devs said he was crazy. That "I want players to be able to choose to fight or sneak" is eventually what led to Deus Ex!

Spector had a collab going with John Woo (holy shit) where they would make a movie and video game series together called Ninja Gold, but unfortunately studios dropped them.

Epic Mickey was shooting for the Moon. After the movie studio deals and the collab with Valve fell through, Spector's studio was desperate for work until Seamus Blackley suggested they pitch to Disney. Spector thought it was crazy, but they went for it and to their surprise they weren't just given a Disney IP, they were given Mickey himself. Unfortunately, working with Disney can be cursed but we all already knew that

Very important: The game is called "Deus Ex" only partly because it's about gods from the machines. Spector thought it would be really funny if people mispronounced the game and had to say "sex"

[sonicfanthenightfury5099]

Werewolf! Michael myers RZ Halloween NSFW Alphabet

Note: I wanted to do an NSFW Alphabet for the Werewolf Tall Mickey for a while now. This gif is giving me them Tall Myers vibes.

18+ Minors DNI

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex?)

Panting like crazy, he's been through so much fucking he's panting like a dog who ran a long way. He starts to clean himself like a dog licking your juices off his balls, which leads him to clean your back, which you don't mind. He then asks if you want food, which you replied with a yes to that. Eating in bed with making sure you're doing well after the fucking he did to your body, He'll lift you up to take a hot shower before bed.

B = Bodypart (Their Favorite Bodypart of their body and also their Partner's)

The giant is a Werewolf. His arms had a lot of strength to them to decapitated a victim, and the jaws he has, he would be breaking bones and crushing wind pipes with his large fangs.

You and your small frame to him perfect to him. He loves your soft lips that are so comfortable against his. He melts when you try to reach his face to cress it

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He has a breeding kink, and he's staying in deep till he fills you up real good.

D =Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to see you in loose lingerie, which he will try carefully to take it off in a creative way every time. A way of teasing you till be gets down to the night of breeding sex

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

He had none if you lived in a Sanatorium for 15 years, and you mostly did art in your room. You can only imagine it was when he got out he had seen Victims doing it, especially in his old abandoned house. He may have seen some videos online when you were at work.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Missionary, easy position to learn, and to see your face scrunched up in the amount of pleasure you're in. Cowgirl, you can ride and bounce on top while he watches you ride on his beast and play with yourself. Doggie Style, do I have to say why he loves this position? He'll put you into this position for a little rough fucking from behind. Mating Press, his breeding kink kicks in when he's ready to release his load into your warm womb. He'll stay in that position as a plug to keep his semen inside you.

G = Goofy (Are they more Serious in the moment, or are they humorous, ect?)

This time means I want to make you feel amazing in the moment, so he doesn't want the mode spoiled by something goofy during the act he'll become grouchy which will take forever to get him back in the mood.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the Carpet match the Drapes, ect?)

On top he has lovely long locks, he had grown out when he was in Smith's Grove with some stuble on his face, down below, it's a little forest, but a quick trim down there it looks better. When he goes wolf, looking a bit like an Old English SheepDog due to his long hair, and his abdomen is completely covered by his long wolf hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect..)

He's definitely wanting to give you a lot of kisses while praising your body during what he calls sometimes, "Breeding time," which is every time when you both have sex. Having him holding you in his arm in between rounds, he's careful not to be laying his whole body on you. Definitely saying sweet nothings in your ears during the round.

J = Jack/Jill off (Masturbation headcannon)

He doesn't do it often, but if that urge creeps on him, he's going to take care of it. He can turn you on by how he would show how he strokes, starts at the base of his shaft stopping halfway, then strokes fast at his tip. Making a wet sound from it, he will do that when he fingers you.

K = Kinks (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding, praising of any kind, Cockwarming, and size differents kink

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do )

This man wants to rut in the bedroom cause it's more comfortable for sexy time.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

A touched starving man gets turned on by suggested touches on his body. He would be thinking about you with a heavy pregnant belly with swollen breasts for you and his pups that makes him go into breeding mode.

N = No (Something that they wouldn't do, turns offs)

Definitely, no mentioning Smith's Grove or Sister

Won't turn you into a Werewolf if you ask him. He loves you this way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills ect)

Definitely giving you some oral, eating you out like a straving beast. Michael definitely enjoys a good oral treatment on his disco stick (He'll pound you real good as a Thank you.)

69 is his favorite. He's eating you out while you're giving him head.

P = Pace (Are they Fast and Rough? Slow and Sensual? Ect.)

Does start slow before picking up the pace and going to pound town. He doesn't want to go too rough on you, but he can't help it. He loves you so much. He'll go soft the next round

Q = Quickies (Their opinions on Quickies rather than proper sex, how often, ect)

Depending on how he feels, he would not be interested one day. The next, he's got you bending over the couch or counter and give you one. He'll be giving you more when he is done hunting.

R = Risks (Are they game to experiment, do they take any risks, ect

Out of curiosity or just getting horny when out in the woods, he would want to go down on you in the woods. Like a wolf in the wild, he will do the dirty with you on a blanket (so your back isn't pricked by branches just so you're comfortable while in pleasure Town) He might want to fuck you when he's in his Werewolf forme, his huge dick on you looks like it can't fit in and would tear your holes into one big hole (and a trip to the ER)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

Will go all night if he's back home early or he's having a day off, around 10 or 12 rounds, depending on how much energy he has that day. Morning sex is a big Yes for him.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You probably have a vibrator you have in your dresser that you would use before you met Michael. You take it out to use it when he's not home and needy of him. He finds it useless cause why would you use it if he can give you endless hours of pleasure from him.

U = Unfair (how much do they like to tease)

His form of teasing is showing you is the for mentioned of stroking his cock, and fingering while stroking his tip making a luded sound from it. Cockwarming is another form of teasing from him he'll be in you for a while till he's ready.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make?)

Loud Panting, grunts, and moans in his gruff voice, Hella hot.

W = Wildcard (Random Head cannons)

When you first met, Michael wasn't comfortable with you on seeing his face. He would wear his wore out mask or his Jack o lantern one. When is he ready for you to see his face he'll let you do the honor of taking off his mask.

Michael would, on occasion, pick wild flowers when he's out for you. He would come home with a big boutique of wild flowers he found in the woods.

He would make you a mask as another form of his love for you.

Michael may not look like it, but he deep down he wants to hear the sounds of little feet on the floor one day. He would wonder when the day will come you tell him that you want a baby.

X = X-ray (What's going on in their pants?)

Human: A good size, 7 inches with good girth

Werewolf: Hidden underneath his shaggy fur is a near 10 inches cock with big girth and knot (he won't put all of it in but started half before going in fully when you get used to his size)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive depends on his mood. He would be cranky one day the next day he's horny and uses his look when he wants to rut.

Z = Zzzz.. (..how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

After a shower and some leftovers, you cuddle up with your man clean clothes and dried you'll drift off to sleep. He'll follow suit when you're asleep and you're doing good after the pounding you got from him.

#michaelmyers #halloweenmovie #werewolf #robzombieshalloween #michael myers x reader

[callsigndragon]

Seeing Red | Ch. 22: Unpleasant visitor ✍️

Word count: 3.3k (it's a long one, y'all)

Warnings: TOP GUN HUBBY & DAD AGENDA BROUGHT TO YOU BY YOUR HUMBLE WRITER. mentions of the past, mentions of sex, sad, fluff and bit of laughter all mixed together, bit of jealous jake. mentions of drinks aaaand swearing here and there.

A/N: okay y'all, this is a long one, and there's gonna be some INTERESTING things coming soon. We're getting closer to the truth, babes. Just wait a bit longer.

MASTERLIST ON PINNED!

“Ava, don’t go near the water without us!” Reuben raises his voice so his daughter can hear him, but she’s more occupied running around with her new friend, Liam.  

“How do you feel about having Liam as your future son-in-law?” You joke, recording a video of Liam, Ava, and Ted laughing while chasing each other. 

“His mom raised him well. I can’t ask for anything better.” He follows your joke, smiling and sitting down with you. “I bet it was hard. It is hard for me and Jazz, but we have each other.” 

“It wasn’t easy. I had my mom, fortunately. But yeah, it was a challenge.” 

“Did you regret it?” He looks into Jake’s blue cooler, filled with drinks and some food. 

“Never. He’s the love of my life.” You smile, showing him a picture of the three kids. “And those are yours.” 

“Look at my babies. It’s funny because when I met my wife, I thought I would never love someone as much as I loved her.” He chuckles and zooms in on the photo on your phone. “And then Ava came. She wasn’t planned, you know.” 

You nod, watching Liam play with the sand. “Liam wasn’t either. Well, you know that already.” 

Mickey sits in front of you, a bottle of sunscreen in his hands. “Can you help me?” 

“Am I the designated mom of the group?” You laugh, getting the bottle out of Mickey’s hands. 

“Before you came, it was Sarge.” 

“Sarge?” You put sunscreen on his back, making sure that everything’s covered. 

“My wife. That’s her rank. She works at SDPD.” 

“Woah, she must be an amazing woman.” You pat Mickey’s side. “Done, Mickey” 

“Thank you!” He turns around, puts on his glasses, and smiles. “What a good day with the family.” 

“Yeah, when you don’t have a black eye.” Rooster groans, taking a soda can out of the cooler and pressing it to his eye. 

“Next time, don’t go around spreading false information.” Phoenix sits next to Mickey, handing him some fruit. “You want?” 

“Thank you, sweet lady.” He takes one grape and eats it. “Where’s Jake?” 

You turn your head toward the kids, now being followed by a blonde, shirtless cowboy who pretends to be a dinosaur. “Being a kid.” 

“Next one in line is Bob.” Phoenix says, moving when Javy returns from the car, so he can sit down. “Found the glasses?” 

“Yeah, they fell to the floor. Were you talking about Bob?” 

“Bob wants to be a father?” You ask Phoenix. 

“Bob is on the way to being a father. Her wife is pregnant. That’s why they aren’t here today. Bob went to tell his in-laws.” 

“Another baby to play with.” Mickey says in a singsong voice. 

Jake comes back, and Payback moves so he can sit next to you. You roll your eyes behind your sunglasses. “Those kids can run a marathon.” 

“We were saying before that Liam is gonna be Payback’s future son-in-law.” You inform him. 

Jake nods, smiling. “I’m gonna have the prettiest grandkids.” 

They start talking about the future, about Bob’s baby, weddings, and stuff, reminiscing about things from a time when you weren’t around. You smile and nod, laughing at the funny stories of how Payback and Bob met their girls, and it makes you remember your own story—how you met Jake five years ago. 

“You’re thinking about it, too, right?” Jake whispers, his hand moving to your back as a way of calling your attention. 

“You were the biggest idiot ever.” You laugh out loud, making the rest drop their conversations and enjoy the small but sweet interaction between you and Jake. 

“Oh my, it’s the story of how you two met?” Nat grins, memories of that night coming to her mind. 

“We need to know. Please.” Mickey begs, pointing at him and Payback. “And Bob. But he’s not here.” 

"Well, it all happened-” you start, but you see a man approaching the kids, the sun hitting you in the face and blocking your vision. “Who’s that?” 

All of you turn to look at the children. Liam is hiding behind Ava; Ted is unbothered, playing with a seashell he just found. Jake, Reuben, and you get up quickly and move towards the man, who turns out to be your boss. Cyclone. What is he doing here? 

"You've gotta be kidding me.” Jake hisses under his breath, moving quickly to get his son. “Hey, Cyclone.” 

“You’re all here! I was just talking with little Liam, but he seems to have forgotten about me already.” He tries to tickle Liam, whose first reaction is to hide his face in his dad’s neck. “He’s a bit shy, isn’t he?” 

“Not really. Maybe he doesn’t like you.” Jake suggests with a smirk. You smack him on the head. “Not you too.”

“Don’t be a dick!” you whisper yell, before turning to Cyclone. “He sometimes forgets people quickly, yeah.” 

“Red, you look beautiful in that sundress.” Cyclone comments, and a part of you cringes. Yeah, you’re not a fan of the kind of attention you’re getting. 

“Oh, thank you.” You look at your watch, “I think it’s time for Liam to get an afternoon snack; we should head with the rest.” 

“It’s been nice to meet you outside the academy,” Jake says, turning around and grabbing your hand with his free one, the other helping secure Liam, who is placed on his hip. “You want some fruit, bubs?” 

“Bananas!” Liam grabs his dad’s ear, an odd habit he has picked up in the last few days. 

“How do we ask things?” 

“Bananas, please.” Liam corrects himself, smiling at his dad. 

“That’s my boy,” Jake praises him, kissing his cheek. “Let’s go eat some bananas, with mama and dada.” 

“You know what? I think I’m gonna stay for a bit.” Cyclone says, walking away from you and sitting down next to Mickey, who glances your way and pulls down his glasses, wide eyes asking what he can’t say aloud. 

“Did he just invite himself?” Reuben asks, carrying a kid in each arm. 

“Yep. Just like that.” You mutter, cleaning the sand off Liam’s feet. 

“I swear to God that this man becomes more insufferable each day.”

“¿Qué cojones hace Cyclone aquí?” Mickey asks Phoenix, who just shrugs.  (What the fuck is Cyclone doing here?)

“Ni idea. Pero parece que nadie le quiere aquí. ¿Se ha invitado él solo?” She answers him, glancing at Cyclone, who is trying to play with Ted, who is still very unbothered by his presence. (I don't know. But seems that nobody wants him here. Has he invited himself?)

“¿Este huevón está intentando conquistar a Roja?” (This asshole is trying to win Red over?)

“Eso creo.” (I think so)

“Voy a enseñarle a no meterse con las mujeres de otros.” Mickey clears his throat. “Hey, Red. You were about to tell us how you and Jake met.” (I'm gonna show him to not mess with other people's women)

“Oh no, please. That’s my most embarrassing story” Jake hides his face in Liam’s hair, who has fallen asleep. He’s wearing his dad’s t-shirt as a blanket, covering his body so he doesn’t get sunburned.

“Now I need to know,” Payback laughs while applying more sunscreen to Ava’s face. 

“So, we met 5 years ago…” You begin, making Jake groan. You continue with a devilish smirk. “We were all in Pensacola, I just arrived and went to a bar, it was supposed to be an aviator bar, and I wanted to meet the locals and see who was gonna be my workmates.” 

“Let me say that me and Red met at Top Gun, but we never met after that until that day.” Phoenix continues, filling in some details important to your story. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Well, so I entered this bar…”

“The Cubi?” Mickey asks. 

“Yeah, that one! It’s like a museum.” 

“And the first thing she saw was me, the hottest girl at the pub.” Phoenix chimes in. 

“Well, that was until Red walked in.” Jake points out, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. 

“The thing is that I walked into the bar and talked for a while with Nat; she left to look for someone, and that’s when Hangman, in the flesh, decided to try his luck.” 

Jake lifts a finger to interrupt. “In my defense, when I saw you, I had a feeling that you were a special girl, and that I shouldn’t waste my opportunity, or someone else would take you away from me.” 

“I would have been that one.” Rooster comments, making you jump. You thought he had fallen asleep.  

“Buddy, you should shut up before your right eye ends up like the left one.” Jake warns, making you snort. These two need to stop fighting. “Anyway, the more I talked to her, the more I noticed this feeling. It was something that I had never felt before. I was amazed by her beauty, her smile, and just her general aura.” 

“But there was a problem!” Javy speaks with a mysterious tone. They are enjoying this so much. 

“What problem? Please, tell me you didn’t have a boyfriend.” Mickey gasps, covering his mouth.

“I didn’t tell him I was an aviator, and he was bragging about his job.” 

“No shit.” 

“Language” Payback, Jake and you scold at the same time. 

“Aaaah huevón, sigue.” 

“Translation: Please, go on.” Reuben explains, and you shake your head. 

“I know he didn’t say that.” 

“You know Spanish?” 

“The basics, I guess.” 

You look at Cyclone, who has been oddly silent since the story began. His eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, and you can’t know for sure what he’s thinking. Not that you care, honestly. 

“Anyway, where were we?” Javy tries to remember. 

“Jake being horny.” You signal, earning a nudge from the blonde man. “Auch.”

“Did I ever insinuate that I wanted to have a one-night stand with you?” Jake pushes his glasses down his nose, looking at you. Yeah, he’s telling the truth. There’s no way those emerald eyes can hide anything from you. 

“Well, not really...” Now that he brings that up, it’s true. He was flirting like the world was ending the next day, and you were enjoying every second of it. Jake was a bit more egotistical back then, and he sure thought that he was the best pilot to ever enter the Naval Academy, but there was something that attracted you. His confident smile, maybe? The way he leaned closer to you whenever you talked, so he didn’t miss a single word? How he made you feel like the only girl in the bar? But not once did he try to get in your pants. “Wait, we spent the next three months being friends with benefits!” 

Jake shrugs, kissing Liam’s head. “It was the only way you allowed me to be with you. So I took the only chance I had.”

“You literally fell in love with her that night,” Reuben says, lifting an eyebrow as if it were so unbelievable. 

“Damn right.” 

You cover your face in embarrassment. “Now I feel like an idiot.” 

“You were as in love with him as he was.” Nat rolls her eyes, eating another grape. “But denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, you know.” 

“Shut up.” You groan. 

“But how did you two end up dating?” Mickey insists, wanting to know the entire story. 

You tell him how much tension grew during those three months between the two of you. The first weeks of your relationship were more physical. Making out at every possible moment and ending up at the back of his car or in your house or anywhere there was a solid surface. Sometimes all you needed was a wall. Jake has always been a strong man. 

Somewhere between the first and second month, Jake started to stay with you in bed the morning after. Sometimes it led to a second or third round. Sometimes it led to shower sex. But the majority of the time, you two ended up having random conversations, your limbs tangled between his and your white sheets. You didn’t know where your arm ended and where his began. And you couldn’t care less. It was one of those mornings when you discovered that Jake smiles in his sleep. It was something only you and not anyone else knew, because, from what you’ve heard from Bradley, he was never one to stay the night. 

But he always stayed with you. 

Random pillow talks turned into him waking up before you to make you breakfast. He always tried to finish it before you woke up, but it was futile. The bed wasn’t as warm without him. 

Breakfast led to romantic dinners. Movie dates. Endless cuddling sessions. Looking for each other at the bar. Becoming his wingman. Being glued together every single waking second you could spend together. His hand was always on the small of your back, or your thigh, whenever he was talking to someone, as if he wanted to mark you as his for any idiot who dared to look your way. 

It was only a matter of time before that tension, those unsaid feelings that both of you had, became a problem. 

“So you were basically together.” Mickey sums up all you just told him in one single sentence, and somehow that makes you laugh like a maniac. 

“The only ones who didn’t know were them” Rooster deadpans, getting a red popsicle from the cooler. 

“And you never tried to be with somebody else?” Reuben inquires, casting a quick glance at Cyclone. 

“Why would I look around and search for another thing when I had everything I wanted right there?” You simply answer, making a corner of Jake’s lips lift.

“I just didn’t know if she felt the same as I did.” 

“How did you find out?” Mickey questions again, and you notice him typing a lot on his phone. You're not sure if he’s taking notes for Bob or actually sending him texts with the most interesting parts of your story. 

“We got into a fight.”

If you tighten the string too much, it will eventually snap. That’s what happened with you and Jake. Fear, jealousy, and love all mixed up together. It wasn’t pretty. You two ended up screaming at each other in a parking lot outside a bar. Jake implied that you were more interested in Rooster than in him back then. It was the final straw for you. You called it off and walked out of the bar, but Jake followed you. 

“I literally said, ‘I hope to never see you again.’” You admit it, shifting Jake's t-shirt to reveal Liam's sleepy expression. He smiles when he sleeps, too. 

"But you worked together," Mickey says, leaning in closer, as if engrossed in a fairytale. 

“I was gonna ask for a relocation.” 

You left that parking lot and called a taxi to bring you back home. Your tears started to fall at the same time the first raindrops fell on the window of the backseat. Once you got home, as much as you wanted to fall asleep and forget everything that had happened, someone you loved so much—someone you would literally leave everything behind if he asked you to—said that you were more interested in Rooster than in him. 

You sigh, remembering that painful night. “And then someone knocked on the door.” 

“I didn’t ring the bell in case you were in bed already.”

“Thank God I wasn’t asleep, then.” You whisper to yourself, but he has heard you. A part of you wants him to hear it. A part of you is wondering how you ended up here talking about the most important and agonizing relationship in your life. Those were good memories, though. 

You want to be able to remember them whenever you want to. 

You opened that door, your heart clenching at the sight that waited for you on the other side. He was standing there, drenched from head to toe, his nose and eyes red from crying. 

Yeah, Jake Seresin was a man who cried. And he wasn’t ashamed to do it in front of you. 

“What did he say?!” 

“Mickey, you’re too invested in this story.” Javy mocks him, patting his head. 

“I said ‘You’re bossy. You enjoy knowing that you’re better than me in every single aspect, and you're proud of yourself for it. You always have that stupid smirk on your face that makes me want to kick your ass. And yet, I can’t imagine my days without that smirk, without that smile you reserve just for me, or having to live one day without you. It took me a while to realize it, but I love you. And I want to have a serious relationship with you.”

You’re not surprised he remembers every word. 

“What did you say?!”

“I smacked him for calling me bossy. And after that, I kissed him. He proposed a year after.”

“It was a beautiful wedding,” Rooster says, finishing his popsicle. “I cried at the first dance.” 

“What song did you choose?” 

"Make you feel my love," you both say at the same time, sad smiles on your faces, the memory hurting more than you want to admit. 

Only five months after that first dance, your story ended. 

“You know... most of us thought that you two eloped and got married in Vegas.” Reuben admits not expecting that part of the story at all. 

“Javy was the best man. Nat, the bridesmaid. You could have asked.” Rooster says, and Mickey and Payback look at him, blinking in sync, as if that idea had never crossed their minds. 

Nat’s eyes bore into your face, as if she were aware of the sudden mood change. “Red, can you come with me to the Hard Deck? I need to go to the bathroom.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You kiss Liam’s head. “Take care of him.” 

“I think I’m gonna take a nap, too.” Jake informs you, and you move the parasol so none of them are under the sun. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” 

“I think I’m gonna leave, too. It’s been nice to see you outside of work and know more about our new member. See you tomorrow!” And just like that, Cyclone walks in the other direction, leaving all of you with puzzled expressions. 

“Penny, my love, get us two shots of tequila,” Nat says once she enters the bar. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” She waves at you before leaving to get your drinks

“You liar, you didn’t need the bathroom.” 

“I wanted to get you out of there before you ended up kissing Jake.” 

You gasp. “I wasn’t going to kiss Jake!” 

“Honey, you two have been moving closer and closer when you were telling that story. Cyclone took notice as well. He won’t flirt with you anymore, I hope.” 

“He is not flirting with me, dear lord; Nat don’t imagine things.” You thank Penny when she comes back with the drinks. You both cheer and drink them in one shot. 

“You wish Jake was the one flirting with you.” 

“Talking about the past brought a lot of memories and feelings to the surface.” You mumble under your breath. 

“Honey, be honest. Do you still love him?” 

Sighing, you pull your dog tags out of your sundress and show them to her. At first, she looks at them and doesn’t understand what you want to show her. Then she notices a weird sparkle. Dog tags don’t sparkle. 

“Oh my fucking god.” 

Yeah, dog tags don’t sparkle. 

But engagement rings do.

Tag list: @purplevortexx @shrimping-for-all @caitsymichelle13 @callmemana @abaker74 @starkleila @topgunmenbefinebruh @blue-aconite @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @smells-like-perfect-senses @dempy @djs8891 @indynerdgirl @countryclubswifey @lauenderhaze @avaleineandafryingpan @poppyalice2001 @emorychase @wildxwidow @agentrose17 @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @fudosl @rhirhikingston @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @ducks118 @teacupsandtopgun @impossiblebaglecowboyfreak @marissat1998 @blairfox04 @phoenix1388 @potato-girl99981 @sarahjoestewy-blog @phantomxoxo @milestellerwife @dumb-fawkin-bitch @twsssmlmaa @teti-menchon0604 @yanna-banana

#top gun x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x fem!reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #jake seresin x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #jake hangman fic #top gun imagine #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine #hangman x you #jake seresin #hangman top gun #tgm #hangman fluff #hangman angst #jake seresin imagine #top gun

[cowgurrrl]

I know you've written about how rockstar!joel and actress!reader experienced paparazzi but a recent video of rachel ziegler handling the paparazzi well really made me think about how actress!reader would handle them in a similar fashion. they're horrible in general and I feel like actress!reader would tell them off but in a smart, sassy sense lol.

the video of rachel, she told them "sorry??? I'm human talk to me as such" and I think that's how actress!reader would go about keeping them and even if the kids were around too. her and joel, in my mind at least, have a different way of handling them and that's how actress!reader would handle them i feel. (joel thinks his wife is a badass for that because ofc! love to see it!!!)

Oh, Joel does not fuck around when it comes to paparazzi. He has little to no patience and will do everything so their photos are unsellable. Anything from flipping off the camera to mumbling answers to TMZ to even pulling up a picture of Mickey Mouse on his phone and holding it up so paps can’t sell the photos unless they’re willing to pay Disney. It’s extremely smart.

You are a little more gracious. Everybody has to make a living. If you’re on your own, you’ll tolerate a few pictures and questions as long as they’re reasonable and won’t get you in trouble. That, of course, changes once you get pregnant. You still answer questions about work and vaguely say something about the baby being good but you don’t indulge them with details such as your due date, the sex of the baby, or possible names. You figure your good standing with the paparazzi will help you when it comes to concealing Sam and the girls. The flashes and mob scare them and your publicity team has a deal that if they do get pictures of you and the kids out that they have to blur the kids faces unless you change the order (which you won’t do until Sam is eighteen and even then you’re reluctant).

One day, when Sam and the girls are little and you’re still in your two-year time off period to be Mom, you’re going to the grocery store with your very young kid and babies. It’s stressful for any mom to have to wrangle that many small children but especially when people are surrounding you, taking pictures. You do your best to distract the kids, cover their faces, and keep yourself calm but it’s hard. “Can we have some space, please?” You ask politely as you struggle with the double stroller and wiggly babies. While you’re strapping Sophia into the stroller, you hear one of the paps say Sam’s name and ask him something. You don’t even fully hear the question but it doesn’t stop you from whipping around and pulling Sam behind you.

“Did you seriously just ask my five-year-old a question?” You snap. It’s one thing for you to get hounded by the press, but your kid? “He’s a kid. What answer are you expecting to get out of him? Do you want me to find your children and grill them about something while taking pictures of them?” The photographer starts to apologize but you don’t let him. “My kindergartener isn’t media trained or used to people shoving cameras in his face just like every other fucking kindergartner on earth. Can you, please, treat him as such and leave us alone so I can go buy diapers and bread for my family?” They back off, finally, and let you finish loading up the kids. You and Joel’s team sends cease and desist’s to all the photographers who got pictures of the kids that day and orders them destroyed. If a single picture of your children emerges on the internet that neither of you posted, a lawsuit will be sent before the end of the hour and not just one. Two.

One thing becomes very clear to the press that day: Don’t fuck with the Miller kids.

#one for the money two for the show #oftm family #oftm #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #joel miller au #the last of us au #tlou au #actress!reader you will always be famous to me

[ihonestlycanttellyou]

DoL PC: Onyx the Depraved

My main save and menace to society playthrough! >:]

Cut because it got longer than expected. :p

General

Defiant, Vengeful Sadist, Drooling Masochist, Notorious Slut/Whore/Show-off/Scrapper, and Considered a terror; despite all this, still kinda liked in town.

Would be a Notorious Allfather too but the feature's not really there. :p

Beautiful, Lustful, and Asphyxiophilia traits.

Literally thrives on sick depravity, it's his favorite food.

Lives at Bailey's orphanage but never pays him, prefers to just stomp him and his goons once a week.

A bully at school but his looks and attitude make him very popular despite his more... unsavory actions.

Sending Leighton to the pillory is his favorite past time.

Celebrity chef, Bartender, Adult Shop Attendant, Model, and Brothel Star.

Got a parasite once and was never the same. Now a father of many many many slimes.

Was always an incubus but gained the Cow TF at the farm.

Escaped Remy's secret farm after becoming the farmer's prized cattle. At first, he hated his forced hybrid nature but he loves what being made into a bullboy did to his body; he's super buff and produces milk now. Score!

Escaped prison but lowkey misses pushing the other inmates and even the guards around.

His "types": older men, rich women, brats, and horrific otherworldly beings.

Somehow remembers the names of each of his slimes but not his human children.

Relationships

(Love Interests)

He, Robin, and Corrupt Sydney are bestfriends! :]

Knows about Kylar's obsession and bullies him for it, would probably only gain interest after learning about Kylar's "daddy issues". *

Fucks around with Whitney. Onyx likes the three F's: fighting, fucking, and funds; Whitney provides all three.

At first, he started working for Alex purely to spite Remy but started to genuinely like the guy as a friend.

Thinks Avery is a huge brat, wants to collar and fuck him until he stops whining about his weak standing among the other rich bastards in town. He does like getting $2K just for looking good though so he'll keep Avery around.

Has never met the You are being Hunted trio, so no opinion on Eden, Black Wolf, or Great Hawk.

*He'd love the depravity and really play into it.

(People of Interest)

Hates Bailey but would totally hit it at any given chance.

Has an oddly deep respect for Briar despite her literally being diet Bailey, not even he knows why.

Protects Darryl when working as a Bartender in her club but is mostly indifferent to her.

Absolutely fucking terrified of Harper, that dude literally altered his brain chemistry for one and then tried to take him back to the farm after he escaped.

Indifferent towards Laundry and Mickey but appreciates their business.

Oh boy, where to start with Leighton. Well- [CENSORED FOR PUBLIC SAFETY]

Only knows Niki from the studio, likes them by not by much. If he knew they worked on the farm, he'd flip.

Would charge at and trample Remy since he likes bulls so much, it'd be cathartic for Onyx despite him seemingly enjoying being a bullboy.

Credits Sam for his success as a celebrity pastry chef, still mostly indifferent towards her.

First met Wren in prison and thought he was cool, thought he was awesome when he actually went through with sabotaging Remy during Blackjack. All that admiration flew out the window when he had to suck off all of Wren's friends for his clothes back. >:/

Loves Sirris as a teacher and boss, lowkey wants to make another "sex-ed" video with him.

FUCKING HATES MS. RIVER, He is a complete delinquent so she targets him a bit. He thinks it's funny when she passes out from his antics with Whitney though.

Wants Doren biblically, even more so if she's actually a werewolf like the rumors say.

Hates Mr. Winter, bastard left him in that stupid pillory like five times. Intrigued by his interests in medieval punishment though.

Thinks Mason is kinda hot, not his type.

Never met the others.

Lookbook :D

Everyday Look x3, School, Swimming, Formal, Athletic, Sleep, and finally the Brothel fit, babeyyy!

His tattoos: a horned skull on his chest, "Paradise" beneath his pierced bellybutton with an arrow pointing downstairs (okay fine, it's canonically Size Queen but let! me! have! this!), and ofc a cattle brand on his left asscheek.

#Good lord should I even bothering tagging everyone? #degrees of lewdity #dol #dol pc #dol ocs #avery the businessperson #kylar the loner #robin the orphan #alex the farmhand #whitney the bully #sydney the fallen #bailey the caretaker #briar the brothel owner #leighton the headteacher #Babygirl Leighton #remy the farmer #harper the doctor #wren the smuggler #...yeah no that's it. Too many to tag. #dol npcs #done. #Onyx the Depraved #dol pc: onyx

[dynamic-power]

Coming Soon to Home Video

Here's my second kinktober fic!

You can read it here on ao3

This is for the bingo spaces Masturbation and Video, plus a free space with Edgeplay. Which means I've got my first bingo!

Rated E

Words: 2.5k

CW: sex tapes; mutual masturbation; spit kink; anal sex; edgeplay

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The second time he hears a suspicious sounding moan coming from Mickey’s phone, Ian looks over the top of his own. Mickey is lying across the couch, holding his phone over his face. Ian can only see his naked top half from where he is, but he can tell Mickey’s whole body is squirming. 

Ian hears his own voice, followed by the deeper sound of Mickey’s reply. He can’t make out words, but he still has a good idea about exactly what Mickey is looking at. 

“Whatcha watchin’?” he asks anyway. 

“Nothin’,” Mickey grunts back over the sound of his own laughter. It’s a lie and they both know it. Mickey doesn’t look up at Ian as he crosses the room, pausing at the arm of the couch where Mickey’s feet are tucked beneath a pillow. Ian grabs it and tosses it at Mickey. His husband grunts as the pillow lands on his stomach, finally looking up at Ian. “What?” he snaps. 

Ian hears himself say, “roll over, baby, let me see your ass,” and he grins. “I said,” he catches the pillow as Mickey chucks it back at him and throws it behind him, “what are you watching?”

“Fuck, Ian.”

Mickey’s face is flushed and the hand that isn’t holding the phone reaches down to cup his dick through his boxers. He lays his phone on his chest and Ian hears himself curse. Mickey smirks up at Ian. “Wanna see?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ian says, shoving at Mickey’s feet. “Move over.”

Mickey sits up and Ian drops down beside him, close enough that their thighs press together. Mickey turns the volume all the way up as he tilts the screen and his moans fill the room. 

“Another.”

Ian has Mickey on his elbows and knees with his ass towards the camera. The angle isn’t perfect, but they’d managed to prop the phone up on the dresser and had turned themselves in a way that the camera catches it all. Ian’s got one hand spreading Mickey’s cheeks and two fingers of the other are buried in Mickey’s hole. 

There’s something about seeing it on video that is almost as obscene as seeing it in person. 

“I have a great ass,” Mickey comments. 

Ian laughs. “Yeah, Mick, you really do.”

Ian presses a third finger into Mickey and they both let out satisfied sounds. Ian leans over Mickey’s back and says something, not loud enough for the camera to have picked it up, but whatever it is makes them both laugh. Mickey’s laughter dissolves into a whine as Ian crooks his fingers.

It’s watching this, the familiarity and ease they’ve found with each other, even in such intimate moments, that has Ian hardening in his jeans. What they have is so good, and getting to see the visual proof of that seems to be doing it for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mickey slip his hand into his boxers. Ian undoes his belt and gets his pants open. 

“Think that’s enough?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Wanna flip over?”

“Nah, I wanna see what we look like with my ass up.”

Ian growls as he grips Mickey’s hips, leaning over him again. He murmurs again and Mickey makes a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh.

“Were you serious?” Mickey asks. His hand is working himself over slowly. The tip of his cock is leaving a damp mark in the front of his boxers and it takes Ian a moment to realize what Mickey is asking him. “About getting a mirror to hang in the bedroom?”

That is what Ian had said, what had made Mickey laugh. “Fuck yes,” Ian says, rutting his own clothed dick into his palm with a hum. “That would be so fucking hot, fucking you in front of it.”

The phone tips as Mickey lays it down on Ian’s jean-clad thigh just long enough to shuck his boxers off and kick them away. Ian looks over, eagerly taking in the sight of Mickey’s naked form. His hard cock is laying against his soft, plush belly, the tip red and wet and drooling precum into the hair below his navel. Ian wants to get off the couch and kneel between Mickey’s legs, get his mouth around him and suck him down, but he also wants to watch the video, so he stays put. 

Mickey props the phone up again with his free hand. Once it’s off his own leg, Ian shifts his hips up enough to get his jeans and briefs down to mid-thigh. He glances back at the screen in time to see-

- Ian grips the base of his dick with one hand, keeping Mickey’s ass spread with the other, and guides himself to his hole. There’s only a moment of resistance before the tip slides in and Ian and Mickey both moan -

- Ian and Mickey both moan, the chorus of four voices filling the room. Ian is about to dig into the cushions for their hidden tube of lube, but before he can, Mickey leans forward. Ian watches, fascinated and extremely turned on, as Mickey lets saliva collect on his tongue and drip from his mouth. His spit lands on the head of his cock, drips down the underside towards his balls. There’s a string connecting his mouth to his length, until his tongue swipes at his bottom lip. He uses his hand to spread his spit, making his next strokes a little smoother. He leans back against the couch, eyes on his phone, but Ian can’t tear his eyes from Mickey. 

It’s filthy and fucking sexy as shit and Ian doesn’t realize he’s said anything out loud until Mickey looks at him again, grinning. 

“That get you hot, Gallagher?”

“Everything you do gets me hot,” Ian grumbles back at him. He finally, finally, gets his hand around his length and gives himself a few rough tugs. 

“Fuck, Mick, so fucking tight. You were made for this dick, weren’t you?”

Ian has a hand on Mickey’s hip and the other tracing shapes on his back. He’s set up a steady pace and already Mickey is matching it, thrust for thrust, pushing back into Ian. It’s not too rough or too soft, just familiar. 

They look fucking great together; that familiarity bleeds into every movement. This is two people who know each other’s bodies intimately, know how to give and take pleasure, and love every minute of it. This is Ian and his fucking husband.

“Ah, fuck, E, right there. There, there, shit.”

Ian reaches beneath the cushion, grabbing the lube. Mickey might be fine using spit and pre like they’re still sixteen, but Ian prefers the small luxuries provided by being an adult. He warms it in his palm before stroking himself again. It’s smoother now. Warm, syrupy pleasure replaces the rough scratch and he moans, settling back into the couch. Mickey is still jerking himself slowly, eyes trained on their video. 

“Can I-” Ian starts, reaching his empty hand towards Mickey’s cock, but he’s cut off when his husband pushes his hands away. 

“Nuh uh, tough guy,” Mickey chides without looking at him. “You’re supposed to be watchin’ , not touchin’.”

Now that he’s been told no, Ian desperately wants it. He wants to envelop Mickey’s small hand in his own, stroke him together, get his own hand covered in the mess of spit and precum that Mickey has made of himself. 

“Keep up with me,” Mickey says. It takes Ian’s pleasure addled brain a moment to realize what Mickey means, but when he does, he obeys, stroking himself at the same pace as Mickey, up and down and up and down-

“Wait, wait.”

Mickey and Ian both pause, holding their breath. 

Ian halts his thrusts. “What?”

“Wanna see you.”

Ian chuckles and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “such a romantic.” He pulls out, cock bobbing as the tip slips free. Mickey’s hole gapes for a moment, clenches a couple times, before he rolls himself onto his back. His thighs immediately wrap around Ian’s waist and he makes grabby hands at Ian. 

“C’mere.”

Ian doesn’t need to be told twice, sinking back into the heat of Mickey’s body. They can kiss now, and they do. The sounds of their mouths almost drown out the sound of Ian’s hips hitting Mickey’s ass. 

The new angle means that Mickey’s leg blocks the view of where Ian’s cock is splitting him open, so the new focus is Ian and the muscles of his ass and thighs as they start fucking again.  

Mickey’s fist speeds up, dragging Ian’s attention away from the phone. He speeds his own hand up, losing pace with Mickey to instead twist around his head every few strokes, getting his own precum mixed with the lube. 

“Fuck,” Mickey grunts. The tip of his dick is turning a dark red and his whole body is writhing and his knuckles are turning white around the phone. He’s close, Ian can tell, and he’s glad for it. His own pleasure is mounting, heat turning in his gut, and he’s not sure how much longer he can go before he comes.

But then Mickey is removing his hand, letting his erection bob against his torso again. 

“Ian,” Mickey says sharply. It’s a command , a direction, and Ian huffs out a whine as he does as he’s told, letting go of his own cock. It twitches and his hips cant up in a fruitless search for the lost friction. But then Mickey says, “good boy,” and it’s worth it. He shuts his eyes and sinks into the warmth of that small bit of praise. 

“Wanna change it up one more time?”

“Fuck. Uh, yeah.”

“You’re not too close?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Wanna see you ride me.”

“Fuck,” Mickey moans, drawing the word out for a few beats. “Yes, yes, want that.”

At this point, they’ve forgotten the camera entirely, rolling to the wrong direction and cutting half of themselves out of the frame.

Ian doesn’t care; he’s too focused on Mickey’s twitching fingers, waiting to come down from their near shared orgasm enough to start up again. Mickey’s eyes are still trained on the phone, and he grins at it. “Gonna have to film it again, we missed the best part.”

“What a shame,” Ian says absently. He really couldn’t care less about the damn video, he just wants-

Mickey nods, and Ian growls again as they both grip their own dicks. Ian matches Mickey’s pace again. He’s panting by the time Mickey spits into his palm. He wants to snark about the lube that’s still within arms reach, but then he feels the rolling wave of his climax approaching again. He holds it off, waits for Mickey to tell him to come. 

“Hands off,” Mickey says, and Ian lets out a devastated groan as he does what he’s told. Half of his mind is pleased to see Mickey is doing the same, edging himself just like he’s edging Ian, but the other half just wants to come . “One more, E, one more and then you can come, okay?”

“Okay,” he grinds out. His pulse is racing, his cock is throbbing, his balls are tight, and all he wants is to come, but he can do one more for Mickey. 

Mickey gives him the go-ahead too soon, and it only takes a few strokes for him to be staring over the edge of that glorious cliff again. This time, he lets go a moment before Mickey tells him to, body screaming at him as he avoids his orgasm one last time. Everything is on fire; his fingers are tingling, his limbs feel heavy already, his stomach is tense. He squirms as he glances at the phone one last time. 

Only one of Mick’s thighs is visible, and the thick muscle is trembling as he works himself on Ian’s cock. Ian’s hand is everywhere; his hip, his ribs, his hair, his calf. Soothing every overworked muscle that he can. 

Any words that may have been falling from Mickey’s mouth have been replaced by the little, “ah, ah, ahs” that mean he’s close. Ian has devolved to moans, too, though his own sounds are hard to hear over Mickey’s. 

“Come for me,” Mickey tells him, and Ian only has to stroke himself one, two, three times before he’s coming, hard, ropes of cum painting his shirt. His vision spots as wave after wave of intense heat roll through his whole body. He continues to fuck into his fist, drawing out every bit of pleasure he can, before he sinking into the couch, completely boneless. 

He looks over at Mickey. 

He’s abandoned the phone, dropped it to the floor, and is staring at Ian’s spent cock and soiled shirt. He grunts as his hips fuck up into his fist, no real rhythm, just a desperate chase of his own release. 

Ian finds just enough energy to push himself up, twist himself down until he’s knelt in between Mick’s thighs, and wraps his mouth around the tip of his cock. 

His eyes squeeze shut as he comes, shooting off into Ian’s mouth. Ian takes it all, savors the familiar taste of him, swallows. As Mickey comes down from his high, Ian laps at his softening dick, adding his own spit to the mess of Mickey’s groin rather than doing anything to clean him up. 

“Fuck,” Mickey says, nudging Ian’s head away with a laugh. 

Ian finally kicks away his pants and peels himself out of his sticky shirt. “Any notes?”

“Not on my masturbation technique,” Ian says, hoisting himself off the floor and settling into Mickey’s lap instead, straddling his thighs. Mickey winces as their soft cocks drag together, near painfully sensitive. Ian loops his arms around his shoulders, delving his fingers into Mickey’s hair and messing it up more. “On the video.”

“On what?” Mickey asks, blinking down at him. His cheeks are pink and his hair is a little disheveled and the blue of his eyes has been almost entirely swallowed by his dark pupils. He’s beautiful . “You hardly did anything other than touch yourself .”

“Oh.” Mickey considers it for a moment. “That angle works if you’re taking me from behind, but we gotta work on how to catch other positions.”

“A mirror will help.”

“Fuck yes.”

Ian glances down at the phone, abandoned on the floor. 

They’re in the middle of a good post-coital cuddle. Mickey’s on his stomach, and his ass is just visible, Ian’s cum leaking from his hole. The only part of Ian’s body that can be seen is his hand, drifting across Mickey’s back in mindless loops, occasionally dipping down to feel his spend in Mickey’s ass. 

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be expecting a round 2, Firecrotch.”

“We should turn your camera off.”

Mickey’s head whirls up, eyes comically large as he stares directly at the camera. He collapses back down in a heap of giggles. “I’d completely forgotten about that.”

“I’m sure you’ll make good use of it later.”

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Thanks again to @gallavichthings! I'm having a ton of fun with these.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #fanfiction ao3 #kinktober 2023 #dyno writes

[pretendfan]

{Mickey & Readers infinite mixtape}

Mickey Altieri x F! Reader

A/N: I’ve been meaning to revisit this and actually finish it, but other ideas (Timothy inspired obviously) had gotten in the way until now, so here it is Side B I hope you enjoy it and check out the songs!🖤

“Imagine being in a relationship with Mickey Altieri, from the very first meeting to the last breath it’s all here, the songs that would bind you to him and haunt you forever…there is two sides to every story.”

Warnings: 18 plus only, swearing, mentions of sex, oral sex (m receiving), p in v, cheesy af, mentions of danger, murder and death…

• Side B •

1. When you sleep - My Bloody Valentine

•Mickey watches you sleep with a small smile on his face, headphones on he didn’t manage to sleep any but it was comforting to have you in his bed beside him.

•He could stare at your face all day memorising your features, because he was officially obsessed with you, like his favourite movie the one that he could watch over and over.

•Only problem was that he wished his jock roommate Derek wasn’t here, getting rid of him was very high on his wish list, the thought makes Mickey grin to himself…all in due time.

2. Start choppin’ - Dinosaur Jr

•It’s unheard of when you find yourself losing Mickey, as in you cannot find him anywhere on campus, and when even Randy doesn’t know where he is you start to worry.

•Acting goofy sure but Mickey is acting weird his eyes keep watching your every move, like a skittish animal but he won’t tell you what’s wrong, after finding him in the theatre watching Sidney rehearse you start to feel jealous.

•”It’s not what it looks like-“

“This isn’t funny Mickey, you’ve been acting different what’s up?”

“Babe, I’m busy with classes and Derek was supposed to meet me here but I ended up chatting with Sid.” Mickey informs you with a final shrug as if that was that but you only had so many more questions left unanswered.

3. Touch me in sick - Mudhoney

•Dark alleyways have never held such appeal until right now, after leaving the bar you end up being dragged into the dark by Mickey, hands held tightly as he pushes you up against a cold brick wall.

•”I don’t think I can wait until we are back at college, I need you now.” Mickey explains hurriedly in between wet kisses as his hand travels up inside your denim skirt.

“You need to calm down-“

“I’d much rather do this.” States Mickey his warm fingers sneaking their way into your underwear, which makes a smile spread across your face as a sigh falls from your open mouth.

•When his fingers are not enough Mickey picks you up, legs wrapped around his waist as he lets you ride his cock a hand placed over your mouth, in case you screamed too loudly but the excitement alone of being caught has you reaching your end pretty quickly.

4. Fake plastic Trees - Radiohead

•Now wasn’t the time to be having this conversation but you needed to say something, Mickey was acting so distant ever since that night in the alleyway, even right now in the library together but he was somewhere else entirely.

•”Where are you Altieri?” You ask causing him to slowly look up, as if you had only just appeared and not been watching him for almost an hour, as he stared into space making you feel like you were better off elsewhere.

“Let’s not argue now.” Mickey declares in a passive aggressive tone that has you wanting to pursue this line of confrontation further.

“What time would be best for you? Stop acting as if nothing is happening and tell me-“

“Look, I need to go.” States Mickey already grabbing his trusty video camera and books as he stands to go, not even saying goodbye which leaves tears stinging your eyes angrily.

5. Master of puppets - Metallica

•Waiting for Mickey to apologise was taking longer than you thought, why was he acting so shitty around you, things had been going quite well until now.

•Leaving your dorm to get to class you are surprised to see Mickey, even more so when you notice he isn’t alone, standing by a tree a short distance away with an older woman maybe they were family or something you had no clue.

“What the fuck were you even doing spying on me?” Mickey questions angrily when you meet him for coffee, making the effort after classes no doubt, asking him who he’d been with earlier had been a very bad idea…but why?

6. Plowed - Sponge

•Laying under Mickey you watch his brown eyes scanning yours, both in his bed whilst he made up for snapping at you in the library, slow make up sex that had left a smile on your face as you forgave him for being off recently.

•No more mention of the woman he was talking to maybe it was a member of faculty, it wasn’t as if you knew every person who worked here at college, but there was sudden doubt in your mind which briefly scared you.

•”Let’s stay here forever-“

“Without food?” You joke which makes Mickey shake his head back.

“You’ve got a point, let’s shake it real quick to the cafeteria then we can come back here.” Mickey states with a smug smile.

“More sex?” You enquire with a laugh.

“Always.” Mickey deadpans with a wink.

7. Where is my mind - Pixies

•Sitting next to Randy on a bench with the weak autumn sun on your face, you notice the apprehensive look on Mickey’s favourite friend, because him saying that he needed to talk to you wasn’t strange enough.

•”Are you serious?” You ask Randy with a confused look on your face.

“Deadly.” Retorts Randy who then adds “I think you should break things off with him he’s too weird for you.”

“And you know what I need or want-“

“I want you to be safe, I don’t trust Mickey and all his obsessing over James Cameron.” Randy cuts you off with a shudder as he adds “There is sneaky, and then there is whatever Mickey is up to please just watch yourself ok?”

“I don’t need to.” You tell Randy firmly despite the shakiness in your voice.

•”Sounds to me like you’re having second thoughts.” Randy states which makes you look up from your hands which were both balled into fists.

“Is someone jealous?” You begin but then snort with a nasty laugh as you add “Of course no one could compete with Sidney so I doubt that’s happening right now.”

“Bitchy much?” Retorts Randy leaving you alone on the bench with a smile on your face that soon fades when you actually do start to feel like a huge bitch.

8. Criminal- Fiona Apple

•Yet despite what Randy or anyone else thinks you stick around with Mickey, becoming obsessed with him, even though he leaves you feeling cold you cannot get enough of the class joker who isn’t giving everyone the whole picture.

•Watching Mickey force a large knife into someone’s chest has your eyes widening, it all makes sense now, the way he acted and who he truly was were two different animals entirely.

•Instead of wanting to scream out loud and call the cops you feel a sense of calm, one you knew that should be far from your thoughts, but your boyfriend covered in someone else’s blood was pretty exciting to say the least…until he accidentally spots you gawping at him.

9. Getchoo - Weezer

•With the college wanting to go into some kind of lockdown after the latest killing, you try and keep to yourself seeing how Mickey was hiding, unless he was trying to scare you the thought makes you laugh.

•”So what do you think?” Mickey asks finally cornering you in the cafeteria, students acting like nothing had happened, life moves on.

“I think I want to know more about your little venture-“

“I can’t do that otherwise I would have to kill you.” Mickey demands with a playful lilt in his voice but the look on his face could tell another story entirely.

•This is your current dynamic until Mickey once again starts acting bored around you, despite the fact that you know about his extra curricular activities, the ones that could land him in jail for a long time but what would it take for you to tell all to the wrong person.

10. Infected - bad religion

•Mickey is fed up with all of your incessant questions this was not part of the plan, you shouldn’t even be here he was supposed to dump you weeks ago, the news makes you take a step back but you regret it cause this makes him even angrier.

“I’m going to be famous, I don’t need you all I want is for you to disappear.” Mickey sneers holding up a knife pulls from the sleeve of his checked shirt, which makes you wonder if this is it were you his next victim.

“I thought we could be a team-“

“I work better alone.” Mickey yawns as if this whole conversation was boring him half to death.

•”Asshole!” You walk off out of the room hearing Mickey follow you closely, spinning round you go to shove him but he pushes you away.

Standing right at the top of a set of stairs you lose balance, at the same time you spot Mickey wave at you as you start to fall backwards, hands flailing to try and hold something but then everything suddenly goes black.

•Mickey rushes off hiding the knife from view as he notices others gathering around your body, feeling nothing as he left you there because like he had said you weren’t a part of the plan, no hard feelings of course but he might have to speak to you again incase you went to the cops.

Late for class he skips this one with other things on his mind instead, looking to the next part of what needed to be done, the role that he played in becoming infamous which was only a couple of killings away and would be spectacular.

PJ Harvey - Rid of me (bonus track)

•Waking up in a hospital bed wasn’t how you had wanted to spend your Thursdays, learning that you’ve been unconscious for several days, a nasty fall down a long staircase would do that to you but you remembered exactly why this had happened in the first place.

•Back at college you get sympathy from friends, some asking about Mickey but you keep acting like your together with him still, let others believe you were a couple then you would soon pay him a visit and have a little chat.

•Having felt so enamoured by Mickey you were now just left feeling numb, and in want of causing him pain just like he had done you, treating you like something at the bottom of his shoe whilst you had felt love at one point…but now you knew better didn’t you?

#timothy olyphant #scream 2 #mickey altieri x reader #imagine it #headcannons #mickey altieri #timothy olyphant is such a babe #scream headcanons #playlist

[slim-jims-in-this-shit-hole]

anomalously ✍️

fics on ao3: 35 | years active: 2015-2019 | special skill: dirty talk

⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒

greatest hits include:

↳ floating [E, one-shot, 2.4k]

sex while high | finger sucking | somewhat soft They don’t do it all the time —get high, turn on weird ass electronic music that neither one of them would usually listen to and fuck— but it’s fucking amazing; they get so far gone that caring about looking stupid or saying something stupid is the furthest thing from a concern.

↳ boy, i wanna taste you [E, one-shot, 5.2k]

rimming | vibrator | overstimulation Fuck, Mickey’s ass was just… it was Ian’s weakness. Thick, perfect, soft. Mickey’s dark blue boxers were kind of bunched up right under his ass, making it look extra fucking good. Yeah, between the heat and Mickey’s ass, Ian didn’t have a chance in the word. His body was already reacting, needing to put his mouth everywhere on the other man.

↳ and i'm greedy [E, one-shot, 10k]

mechanic!mickey | mobster!ian | porn with plot Ian's boss needs a job done; Mickey's temporarily closed for business.

↳ heartbeat [E, multi-chap: completed, 24.5k]

journalist au | getting together | fluff & smut South Side Native Mends Hearts -the title of the article that Ian Gallagher, probational journalist for Chicago Sun Times, is given the chance to write about Mickey Milkovich, the rags to riches medical engineer. He only got assigned the fluff piece because his brother works with the guy, but Ian’s not one to squander a good opportunity.

↳ the boyfriend experience [E, multi-chap: wip, 122k]

sex worker!ian | dirty talk | they're in love & they fuck a lot The Prompt: Ian: sex worker (male escort, explicit videos: stripping, masturbation, etc) Mickey: client who's an avid fan who gets up the courage to hire ian for "the boyfriend experience" I saw a porn star who said she only sleeps with 1 client & it inspired me **please note that this is an abandoned fic, but it ends in a spicy place & i promise you won't regret reading it!**

⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒

bee's note: this is one of my very favorite authors in the fandom. the smut is beyond hot, she just nails their voices, even when it's soft, & i just hope you really enjoy the fuck outta these fics! xx

[don't forget to leave kudos & comments when you read! ]

#welcome to the very first scribe spotlight! where we spotlight a fandom creator & throw you into the deep end with recs on recs on recs! #had to give it up to a real (& missed!) legend to get things started -> #anomalously #shameless #shameless fanfiction #shameless fic rec #scribe spotlight #ian x mickey #gallavich #slim jims spicy recs

[callivich]

do you have any more thoughts on your a.u.gust day 17/tumblr!ian au 👉👈

Hi Anon! 💖

Here are some bonus thoughts for Day 17 - Pornstar AU

Ian was fantasising about Mickey in a lot, if not most, of the videos he made.

He was interested in Mickey from the moment he met him but Mickey didn’t really react when Ian said he was gay so Ian assumed he was straight. Also, he checks grindr in the apartment and Mickey never appears. And Ian sees Mickey out with Sandy at a bar one night and then Mandy, with blonde hair, at another bar on another night. He makes the assumption that these are hookups rather than family.

They get closer as roommates - hanging out in the evenings and watching TV, Ian likes Mickey’s funny commentaries about whatever they’re watching. They bond over growing up on the South Side. Sometimes they make dinner together too. There’s lots of almost moments where something nearly happens.

Mickey always wondered why Ian didn’t want to hang out more on some evenings. He would make an excuse of being tired and disappear into his room. Mickey assumed Ian just got bored of him sometimes. But it was actually because he was filming.

If this had been a long, multi-chapter fic - I think it would have been interesting to extend the online interactions. Maybe have Mickey send Ian a few pics of his ass and Ian would be like 🥵 ‘yes pls mysterious stranger’. Ian gets obsessed with talking to hornygaythug but Mickey gets cold feet and doesn’t reveal his identity. Until Ian makes an offhand comment about going on grindr and Mickey is immediately getting naked and taking the pic mentioned in the fic.

They have a great first time together - Mickey requests Ian’s tumblr post in full and Ian delivers! 🔥 he’s been waiting and fantasising and thinking about it a lot so he does exactly what he wrote in that post.

Maybe they experiment with filming a bit. They don’t upload it but Mickey is curious about it and wants to see what they look like together when they have sex. It’s very hot.

Since they’re very distracted by each other, Ian doesn’t film for a while. But he’s getting loads of requests for new footage online. He kinda misses it a bit, so Ian asks if Mickey would film him. Which makes it even hotter. Mickey accidentally says something in one of the videos and Ian’s fans go crazy. So they make another video of Mickey talking offscreen to Ian as he films him.

#gallavich #calli talks #a.u.gust bonus thoughts #feel free to request more bonus thoughts for any of the days #💖

[starcrossedsoulmates84]

Gallavich Meta questions, part 1

Answering some questions from @gallavichmeta's thought-provoking post:

If you could write the Gallavich HOS episode - what clips would you choose and how would you write the episode?

Oof, I feel like there are things I would definitely change about the Gallavich HOS episode, but most of those have to do with the parts that weren’t the clips. Like, instead of Ian telling Mickey he only has 88% of his heart (yikes 😬), I would have him focus on being affected by Ned dying because he was part of a formative part of Ian’s life, then maybe the episode could’ve focused on defining moments of their relationship and Ian giving Mickey a hard time over being jealous...I don’t know if that would’ve been very Ian/Mickey, but I have to think it would’ve been better than going from Mickey only having the majority of Ian’s heart to Mickey thinking about stealing stuff/Ian randomly dancing with a guy at the gym to them having daddy issues. 

As for video clips…I feel like a few seconds of the clip from the episode when they first hooked up would’ve been fitting, followed by Mickey being jealous of Ned, then kissing Ian for the first time, their kiss in the club, Mickey coming out, them reuniting in prison, Ian’s proposal after beating up Byron and friends, then their wedding.

We see Ian call Mickey his husband a few times in s11, when do you imagine was the first time he said it and how did he feel? And when do you think the first time Mickey said it, and how did he feel?

I think the first time they said it was on the dance floor while they danced to “Perfect” at their reception, which led to a semi-hasty exit and onto the hotel room where they proceeded to call each other “husband” while consummating their marriage. I could definitely see that being a word that makes both of them melt into the other when they say it.

Post- finale: do you think Ian got Mickey a present for their anniversary? what do they talk about when they get home? 

I don’t know if I think Ian got him a present. It kinda felt to me like Ian was wanting more of an acknowledgement from Mickey and maybe to go out for dinner to celebrate their anniversary. I could see Ian asking him if he wants a gift and getting him something then. 

When they get home, I think they’ll talk about how surprised Ian was when he walked into the Alibi, which will lead to a super sappy moment where Mickey looks at him and says, “How could you think I would ever forget that date?” which leads to lots of sex.

“Does he get that look in his eye when he’s with you?” When do you think Ian saw that look in Mickey’s eyes? When do you think Mickey saw that look in Ian’s eyes?

I think Ian saw that look in Mickey’s eyes during their semi-date when Ian stays over with Mickey in season 3. I think that’s when their relationship really started to turn, and Mickey started to let his guard down. 

If Mickey was looking for it, I think he would’ve seen it in Ian’s eyes when he comes to see him at the store in season 2 and tells him he’s nothing but a warm mouth. The hurt that was on Ian’s face when he said that was a dead giveaway that he felt so much for Mickey.

#gallavichmeta #Ian x mickey #Gallavich ponderings

[seph7]

J.T. Walsh (1999)

I like Oliver Stone movies, but I stayed away from his Nixon when it was in the theaters in 1995, and never rented it on video. As the child of good California Democrats, I grew up hating Nixon. When I was in my twenties and he was president, he gave me more reason to hate him than I ever wanted. When he died I didn’t want to think about him anymore.

One night, though, flipping channels after the late news had closed down, I happened onto Nixon running on HBO, and I didn’t turn it off. I was pulled in, played like a fish through all the fictions and flashbacks, dreaming the movie’s dream: waiting for Watergate.

It came into focus with a strategy session in the Oval Office. Anthony Hopkins’s Nixon is hunching his shoulders and look­ing for help. James Woods’s impossibly reptilian H. R. Halde­man is stamping his feet like Rumpelstiltskin and fulminating about “Jew York City.” Others raise their voices here and there—and off to the side is J. T. Walsh, the canniest and most invisible actor of the 1990s, doodling.

As almost always, Walsh was playing a sleaze, a masked thug, here a corrupt government official, White House adviser and Watergate conspirator John Ehrlichman—as elsewhere he has played a slick Hollywood producer, a college-basketball fixer, the head of a crew of aluminum siding salesmen, a porn king who makes home sex videos with his own daughter, a slew of cops (Internal Affairs bureaucrat on the take in Chicago, leader of a secret society of white fascists in the LAPD), and a whole gallery of con artists, confidence men who seem to live less to take your money than for the satisfaction of getting you to trust them first.

Walsh in the Oval Office is physically indistinct; he usually was. At fifty-two in 1995 he looked younger, just as he looked older than his age when, after eight years as a stage actor—most notably as the frothing sales boss in David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross—he began getting movie roles in 1986. Except near the end of his life, when his weight went badly out of control, his characters would have been hard to pick out of a lineup. Like Bill Clinton he was fleshy, vaguely overweight, with an open, florid, unlined face, a manner of surpassing reasonableness, blond in a way that on a beige couch would all but let him fade into the cushions. He had nothing in common with even the cooler, more sarcastic heavies of the forties or the fifties—Victor Buono’s police chief in To Have and Have Not, say, or the coroner in Kiss Me Deadly, their words dripping from their mouths like syrup with flies in it. He had nothing to say to the heavies appearing alongside of him in the multiplexes—Dennis Hopper’s psychokillers, Robert Dalvi’s scum-suckers, Mickey Rourke, with slime oozing through his pores, the undead Christopher Walken, his soul cannibalized long ago, nothing left but a waxy shell.

Walsh’s characters are extreme only on the inside, if he allows you to believe they are extreme at all; as he moves through a film, regardless of how much or how little formal authority his character might wield, Walsh is ordinary. You’ve seen this guy a million times. You’ll see him for the rest of your life. “What I enjoy most as an actor,” he said in December 1997, two months before his death from a heart attack, “is just disappearing. Most bad people I’ve known in my life have been transparent. Not gaunt expressions—they’re Milquetoasts. It’s Jeffrey Dahmer arguing with cops in the streets about a kid he’s about to eat—and he convinces them to let him keep him. And takes him back up and eats him. What is the nature of evil that we get so fascinated by it? It’s buried in charm, it’s not buried in horror.”

Walsh’s charm—what made you believe him, whether you were another character standing next to him in a two-shot, or watching in the audience—was a disarming, everyday realism, often contrived in small, edge-of-the-plot roles, his work with a single expression or a line staying with you long after any memory of the plot crumbled. As a lawyer happily tossing Linda Fiorentino criminal advice while an American flag waves in the breeze outside his window, Walsh taps into a profane quickness that for the few moments he’s on-screen dissolves the all-atmosphere-all-the-time film noir gloom of John Dahl’s The Last Seduction. In The Grifters, as Cole Langley, master of the long con, he radiates an all-American salesman’s glee (“Laws will be broken!” he promises a mark) that makes the hustlers holding the screen in the film—Anjelica Huston, John Cusack, Annette Bening—seem like literary conceits. Yet it all comes through a haze of blandness, as it does even when Walsh plays a sex killer, a crime boss, a rapist, a racist murderer, as if at any moment any terrible impression can be smoothed away: How could you imagine that’s what I meant?

In the Oval Office his Ehrlichman, whom America would encounter as the snarling pit bull lashing back at Senator Sam Ervin’s Watergate investigations committee, retains only the blandness, occasionally offering no more than “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea” before returning to his doodles. It was this blandness that allowed Walsh to flit through history—in Nixon playing White House fixer Ehrlichman; in Hoffa Team­ster president Frank Fitzsimmons, locked into power by a deal that Ehrlichman helped broker; in Wired reporter Bob Woodward, who helped bring Ehrlichman down—but as Walsh sits with Nixon and Haldeman and the rest you can imagine him absenting himself from the action as it happens, instead contemplating all the roles in all the movies that have brought him to the point where he can take part in a plot to con an entire nation.

What makes Walsh such an uncanny presence on-screen—to the degree that, as the trucker in the first scenes of Breakdown, or Fitzsimmons as a drunken Teamster yes-man early in Hoffa, he seems to fade off the screen and out of the movie, back into everyday life—is that while the blandness of his characters may be a disguise, it can be far more believable than whatever evil it is apparently meant to hide. Even as it is committed, the evil act of a Walsh character can seem unreal, a trick to be taken back at the last moment, even long after that moment has passed—and that is because his characters, the real people he is playing, can appear to have no true identity at all. You can’t pick them out of the lineups of their own lives.

At the very beginning of his film career, in 1987, in David Mamet’s House of Games, Walsh is the dumb businessman victim of a gang of con men running a bait-and-switch, then a cop setting them up for a bust, then a dead cop, then one of the con men himself, alive and complaining, “Why do I always have to play the straight man?” The straight man? you ask him back. In Breakdown, in a rare role in which he dominates a film from beginning to end, he first appears as a gruffly helpful trucker giving a woman a ride into town while her husband waits with their broken-down car. She disappears, and when the husband finally confronts the trucker, with a cop at his side, Walsh’s irritated denial that he’s ever seen his man before in his life seems perfectly justifiable—even if, as Walsh saw it, that scene “had a residual effect on the audience. ‘Don’t catch me acting’—when I lied, deadpan, on the road, you hear people in the audience: ‘He’s lying!'”The moment came loose from the plot, as if, Walsh said, “I’m not just acting”—and that, he said, was where all the cheers in the theaters came from when in the final scene he dies. He had fooled the audience as much as the other characters in the movie; that’s why the audience wanted him dead.

Walsh’s richest role came in John Dahl’s Red Rock West. The mistaken-identity plot—with good guy Nicolas Cage mis­taken for hit man Dennis Hopper—centers on Walsh’s Wayne Brown, a Wyoming bar owner who’s hired one Lyle from Texas to murder his wife. As Brown, Walsh is also the Red Rock sheriff—and he is also Kevin McCord, a former steelworks bookkeeper from Illinois who along with his wife stole $1.9 million and was last seen on the Ten Most Wanted list. Walsh plays every role—or every self—with a kind of terrorized assurance that breaks out as calm, certain reason or calm, reasoned rage. He’s cool, efficient, panicky, dazed, quick, confused. You realize his character no longer has any idea who he is, and that he doesn’t care—and that it’s in the fact that they don’t care that the real terror of Walsh’s characters resides. You realize, too, watching this movie, that in all of his best roles Walsh is a center of nervous gravity. His acting, its subject, is all about absolute certainty in the face of utter doubt. Yes, you’re fooled, and the characters around Walsh’s might be; you can’t tell if Walsh’s character is fooled or not.

At the final facedown in Red Rock West, all the characters are assembled and Dennis Hopper’s Lyle is holding the gun. “Hey, Wayne, let me ask you something,” he says. “How’d you ever get to be sheriff?” “I was elected,” Walsh says with pride. “Yeah, he bought every voter in the county a drink,” his wife sneers—but so what? Isn’t that the American way? Get Walsh out of ‘this fix and it wouldn’t have been the last election he won.

Watching this odd, deadly scene in 1998, I thought of Bill Clinton again, as of course one never would have in 1992, when Red Rock West was released and Clinton was someone the country had yet to really meet. In the moment, looking back, seeing a face and a demeanor coming together out of bits and pieces of films made over the last dozen years, it was as if—in the blandness, the disarming charm, the inscrutability, the menace, the blondness, moving with big, careful gestures inside a haze of sincerity—Walsh had been playing Clinton all along. He was not, but the spirit of the times finds its own vessels, and, really, the feeling was far more queer: it was as if, all along, Bill Clinton had been playing J. T. Walsh.

#j.t. walsh #jt walsh #underrated actors #greil marcus

[gallawitchxx]

who says a beej can't be soft? damn, i'm going to miss second person pov when kinktober is over! okay today's rec is a bit ironic because i know the prompt is vanilla sex & technically that was technically supposed to be the +1 (the wip is incomplete), but i would like for you to read chapter 2 of this 5+1 by calicojackofficial, where mickey has ian's soft cock in his mouth while ian plays video games. mickey's just on his knees, relaxed & i think about it all the time lol. HELP!

• • • • •

day 27: vanilla / soft sex for kinktober 2022 by @gallavichthings

• • • • •

There’s something different about the way his cock feels in your mouth tonight. It’s always heavy, solid, maybe even a little more than you can take. But now the weight feels comforting, like you could stay on your knees for him forever, opening your jaw as he pushes forward, swallowing him down like an anchor.

There’s something different about the way he’s looking down at you tonight. He’s always making heart eyes at you, blown-out, maybe even a little too close to love. But now his gaze makes your belly flip, like you could one day get there too.

#also in case anyone was wondering: i'm compiling all 31 recs for a huge rec list at the end of the month! #& if you weren't wondering.... uh.... i hope you like the list anyway? #day 27 #catch up by clicking this tag -> #dirty drabbles #all drabbles all 100 words all experimental #no plans just fun 🖤👻 #shameless #shameless fanfiction #gallavich kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ian x mickey #bee writes 🐝 ✍🏼

[toxicanonymity]

Maybe since everything is hunky dory in the brothel again (and referencing the video w Mickey Avalon song you reblogged the other day) NW can try to be more friendly with Lincoln and teach him how to Jane Fonda 😛

I agree btw NW is sooo Mickey Avalon music coded it's all I've been listening to today lol

ref: javi edit w/ song by @dark-scape

night walks

Yes!! Mickey is a legend and a menace - like, the man has an enormous pelvis tattoo that says THANK YOU. I wanna make a night walks playlist I can share, but it would be time consuming to comb through lyrics for triggers and stuff with such depraved, irreverent artists 😳 #toxicproblems.

MORE brothel lore... (FAQ)

There's a brothel montage in my head of NW lifting weights, set to Fuck Me I'm Famous by Dirt Nasty & Andre Legacy. High on cocaine, you know my name, grab my gold chain, (fuck me I'm famous).

NW is notorious and kind of a celeb among most of the guys even though they live together. He's so chill and nice, and it only enhances his BDE.

Slasher is rifling through his closet which is mostly blue jumpsuits, like "idk what to wear."

Speakeasy shrugs, "they didn't tell ya? where ya goin'?"

"Just night walks side of the basement." He starts changing into PJs. In disbelief, "He invited me, man."

Speakeasy has second hand embarrassment and ribs him for being starstruck but he totally gets it.

Night walks gets asked in an interview what it's like when they fangirl over him. He just says, "shit, I'll fuck their fans AND their girls." The guys aren't even mad. Most of them eat it up bc it's NW being NW.

Provocative but not explicit pic below the cut (mickey's tat)

In their music You could likely encounter (among other stuff) language obviously, drugs, addiction, sex work, explicit sexual content, references to bad things having happened like abuse or overdose, seediness, body commentary, derogatory or just depraved remarks (often about themselves but also others). Dirt Nasty (simon rex) is another one, you might know him from scary movie 3 or his song 1980 (fun fact, he also used to do solo male porn 🥵).

#night walks!ask #ask #joelkémon brothel #joelkémon sitcom ☠️

[arpmemething2]

Scott the Woz sentence starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.     Feel free to change pronouns as needed. 

“Something better than a lobotomy?”

"Poverty? No thanks."

“Here’s a gun, kill a frog”

I always base my decisions off of what Crest does."

"I smell pointless!"

“Oh, hi! You caught me in a goose!”

“We can put it in a wheel, put it in a gun, put it in a kid”

“These simply look really nice. ‘Like ants’”

“... Oh s**t, it’s pronounced ‘breast’? I thought it was always pronounced ‘beans’”

“THIS GAME BLOWS!”

"Yeah, okay, I wanna f**k a font. Who doesn't?"

“Meet up with a meteorologist, tell him to stop the rain”

"NASDAQ was only my 47th word."

"Hey, hear that? I'm a penis!"

"This is f**king incredible!"

"Oh s**t, it's a white guy!"

"F**k you, house."

“He’s not addicted, he just does it everyday”

"I've always wanted to feel like a Walmart."

"Technically speaking, IBM owns the weather."

"It's dangerous to ask me words."

"Which pregnant woman will squirt one out first? Place your bets and let's find out!"

"I made Lowe's."

"You know what I could go for right now? A working kidney, I have three days to live"

“Death is the most common cause for death”

"Hi, I'll take one corn dog."

"I really shouldn't have spat in this to mark my page."

“If you can’t sue a person, why talk to them?”

"I got f**king soap."

“And I definitely transformed it into my own little virgin circus”

“I like candles, sue me.”

“Something better than a sponge?”

"There's a strict no skin policy! If it ain't covered up, it's getting thrown out. If you don't abide by this policy, you must have flashlight taped to crotch"

"PLEASE F**K ME!"

"I f**king hate circles!"

“He’s a snitch, he’s a killer, but he’s my friend”

“It really keeps you on your toes, like a mouse”

"Join the club, own a bag."

"Oh f**k, the letters are evolving!"

"Three "ho"s and a merry Jesus' birthday is on December 25th."

“‘Do you agree to practice safe sex?’ What is this, middle school? Lame!”

"FELLAS! FELLAS! I AM SO HORNY!"

"With Thanksgiving around the corner, what am I going to do if I can't cook? Be thankful?"

“What, does it look like I’m made out of blood to you?!”

"Finally, the cure for all sex."

"Diet God is still God."

"Let's talk sponges."

"Yeah, you can get laid, on the go."

"Oh please God help, I don't wanna look like a jackass playing Wii Music!"

"What the f**k WAS THIS THING?"

"Here we have sex wall."

“Come on, this is America, I like Mickey Mouse and f*cking my wife”

"I want to feel smart but I don't want to do anything about it."

“‘What does a woman say after a man purposes?’ I’ll think about it”

“F**k yeah, now that’s what I call a baby!”

"Here's a message to all you serial killers out there. STOP."

“Did you know hands could hold garbage and f**king garbage?”

"OH MY GOD!"

"How do you think it would feel if they didn't pick you, they picked a dead you?"

"Studies show that 9 out of 10 gamers play video games!"

"We're selling soup now."

"I've always wanted to say yes to Guy Fieri."

"Now, I am the least musically viable soul on the planet so it's just cool to me that the cardboard's making noise."

"Pump the brakes, Speed Racer, nobody puts religion in my Dig Dug."

“Oh my God, he has a face?!”

"Hey all!"

“I always leave my fridge unplugged to save energy”

"First things first: this game has controls. We use them to play this game and playing results in a win or a loss."

“I don’t want to wait to be disappointed, this isn’t a pregnancy!”

"I've been staring at this all day, I still don't get it."

“It’s my honor to tell you that you have a urinary tract infection!”

"Beep beep, disappointment coming through."