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#Mickey does care about her a lot
mrsaltieri-real · 8 months
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His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)
Chapter 5: Healing
Words: 2k
Warnings: langauge, fluff, angst if you squint, subtle jealousy, mentions of sex, feelings, SO. MANY. FEELINGS.
A small time jump of just a few weeks shows how Dahlia and Mickey’s new friendship has begun to blossom, but Dahlia is struggling to keep romantic thoughts buried, whilst Randy begins to show concern about the two’s growing bond.
A/N: The next chapter will be from Mickey’s POV which is VERY exciting. It’ll go further into Mickey’s feelings, what he’s been doing and just how much he knows about Dahlia with some surprises mixed in. Thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading this for me. My star. And also for the moodboard which I’m including in either all or most chapters because I just love it so fucking much!
Also @lizey-thornberry you wanted to be in the taglist so here you go!
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I had to admit, being friends with Mickey is a lot more fun than I gave it credit for.
Once you get past his cocky arrogance, he was surprisingly funny and had a passion for movies that I myself could never quite understand but equally admired. The light in his eyes when he’d ramble on and on about his favourite movies and directors, his hands waving around in huge gestures as though he was literally trying to paint me a picture, was endearing. Somehow he knew never to steer the topic in the direction of horror movies, to which I assumed at the time to be thankful to Randy for.
We shared a morning statistics class. He would knock on my door every morning at nine o’clock on the dot with a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other. The days turned into weeks and he never stopped doing it. We grew closer and closer, developed inside jokes, and he really started to make me feel human again. I didn’t notice it at the time, but Randy seemed to really hate this development, watching in concern as Mickey and I’s friendship grew stronger and stronger by the day.
I was sitting in the college square and absentmindedly chewing on a granny smith apple as I read my book, waiting for Hallie and Sidney for a spontaneous girls' day out, when I jumped as Randy sat down across from me on the bench seemingly out of nowhere, forehead creased and blue eyes serious. He sat silently, staring at me for a few seconds longer than necessary, before I raised my eyebrows, closing the book resting in my lap.
“What?” I asked, voice slightly muffled from the bite of apple in my mouth, which I swallowed quickly.
“I need to talk to you.” He’d asked with a small shake of his head.
“Okay?” I asked, placing the apple on the bench and looking up at him.
He hesitated for a moment, eyes studying my face before dropping to his hands, playing with his fingers.
“Is something going on with you and Mickey?” He asked, eyes squinting, and voice unsure of himself.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him, adjusting myself on the bench, so I was completely facing him, now sitting side-saddle as I responded, “What do you mean?”
“You two have been getting really close lately. I just know he can be kind of…” His voice trailed off, as if searching for the right word and settling on just, “-Mickey.” I couldn’t help but smile at his choice of wording. To be honest, he didn’t need to go into what that meant, it made complete sense.
I understood his concern. I knew Mickey’s reputation of being a bit of a slut, but at the time I’d buried any kind of romantic feelings I may have had to him far into the back corners of my mind, along with Billy, Stu and Woodsbro though, of course, for entirely different reasons. I wasn’t myself, wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship, physical or otherwise, and Mickey didn’t really seem like the kind of person who wanted to settle down. He was too erratic, too distracted and as much as I enjoyed our friendship, he was too complicated for my slowly healing heart to be able to handle.
That’s what I made myself believe, anyway.
“We’re friends.” I responded, my shoulders turning up just slightly, a mild shrug as I continued, “But you know that, you see us all the time.”
Randy’s lips turned down when I used the word “us”, to him probably making it seem like too possessive of a word for his liking, but I didn’t care. I was happy for the first time in far too long, why was this bothering him so much? I asked him that straight up, and he just sighed, eyes not moving from his hands while he answered with, “I just know him, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I smiled at my friend, my best friend, one of the few people left in the world I truly cared about, and reached out to place my hands over his to make him pause and look up at me.
“He’s not going to hurt me, Rand. We’re just friends, okay?” I spoke gently, maintaining eye contact with him as I did, to which his eyes widened in surprise.
His face broke into a smile suddenly as he announced, “Hey, I think that’s the longest you’ve looked me in the eye in six months!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, rolling my eyes and joking with him back, “Oh, right. Nice goatee. You know the 80s are dead, right?”
He scoffed at me, playfully pushing my hands off his. “Look at Dahlia with the jokes.”
“Absolutely not joking.” I deadpanned with the smile still on my face.
He laughed along with me, blue eyes finally warming up a little as the moment drifted off into comfortable silence. I heard my name faintly being called and glanced over Randy’s shoulder to see Hallie waving at me excitedly, Sidney walking by her side with her hands in her jacket pockets. She smiled warmly at me once she was closer, removing her hands and rubbing them together slightly due to the crisp fall air, asking me, “Are you ready to go?”
I went to look back at Randy to ensure he would be okay if I went, when I saw his gaze was diverted over my shoulder, his expression turned pissed off.
“She can’t, she has plans.”
His voice made me jump for the second time today, twisting around on the bench to look at him. Fuck, how did he do that?
Mickey stood behind me, I felt his hands suddenly rest on my shoulders, the contact sending a small shiver down my spine. He was always so warm, his grip firm and grounding. I suddenly found I didn’t want to go. As much as I loved Hallie and as much as Sidney was one of my best friends, whenever I was around him, I found myself not wanting to be with anybody else.
Feelings are pushed away? Yeah, right!
“But she-“
“Oh, no, that’s fine!” Sidney quickly spoke over Hallie, grabbing her friend's hand and squeezing firmly to shut her up, “We’ll catch you later, Dahlia.” She smiled at me widely, tugging Hallie off as she waved at me again, her pretty face looking confused.
A faint, “What was that about-” Reached me before they were out of earshot.
I turned and looked away from the girls to glance up at Mickey’s face, only to find he was looking at Randy, brows raised expectantly with a clear, dismissive look on his face.
I heard Randy sigh a little heavier than necessary and turned my head back to him to watch him clamber up from his seat, his gaze diverting from Mickey to smile at me with a small, “I’ll see you later,” before I quickly leaned forward and asked him, “We’ll have a movie night soon, yeah?”
He just nodded his head, turned on his heel and began to walk in the direction he came, head bowed slightly. I turned back around to look up at Mickey, his face entirely unbothered as he beamed down at me, but the smile faded fast when he saw my scowl.
“What?”
“We don’t have plans.” I commented, leaning back against the wooden table and my hands resting on my thighs.
“What’s with Meeks?” He asked, ignoring my comment as he looked away from me and nodded in Randy’s direction, “Kid looked like a kicked puppy. He asked you out, and you told him to fuck off or something?”
With a scoff, I put my book in my bag and grabbed the apple from the table, no longer hungry I decide against finishing the last bite and a half, leaning forward to toss it into the nearby trash can. I stood up and slung my bag over my shoulder. “No, Mickey. Why is that always the assumption you seem to jump to?” I asked as I began to walk mindlessly.
“Come on, it’s either one of two things. Either he’s too much of a pussy to ask you out, or you’ve rejected him a fair few times. Which is it?” He easily walked alongside be as he spoke, hands gesturing as though he was weighing out the two options.
“Neither, we’re just friends and always have been.”
“You don’t think he’s dying to get in your pants?” He asked, his tone only half teasing as he poked me in the ribs, prompting me to slap his hand away and making him laugh in the process.
“Shut up, you’re so disgusting. He’s my best friend, I’d never look at him like that.” I stopped under a tree, leaning against it and looking up at him.
He looked good today, his dark hair was wax free and falling a little over his forehead, his dark grey shirt was flatteringly tight, and he wore a soft brown hoodie to protect himself from the ever cooling crisp autumn breeze. His cheeks were flushed just a little, his eyes glinting a soft light brown from the setting sun.
God, the entire set up felt like my movie had shifted from a horror to a romance, and the realization was slowly beginning to dawn on me.
“You think you’ll ever look at anyone like that?” He asked casually, eyes flickering over my face to gauge my reaction.
Oh, fuck.
“What do you mean?” I asked carefully, trying to keep my expression neutral.
“If not Meeks, could you see yourself dating in the future or is that completely out of the cards for you?”
Without thinking, I shook my head, “No, it’s not completely off the table. I just want to find the right person to-“ I stopped myself. What the hell was wrong with me, if I told him I hadn’t had sex yet I knew I’d never hear the end of it. But as Mickey did so often, he took me by surprise by finishing my sentence for me, “Lose it to?”
I couldn’t help but since at the words, somehow they sounded more pathetic coming from him until I realized he hadn’t said it in a joking or teasing way, just very matter-of-factly as though he already knew. Maybe he did.
“Mhmm,” I responded, not trusting my voice. He laughed a little, moving forward to stand a little closer to me with his hand resting just to the side of my head as he ducked his head down a little to speak in a more hushed tone, “It isn’t that big of a deal, Dahl.”
“Easy for you to say, slut.” I muttered, unable to bring myself to meet his gaze. He just laughed at my comment, and I watched as he nodded his head from the corner of my eye in agreement.
“Yeah, I admit I get around. But that’s just me, it really isn’t that big of a deal. If anything, maybe I admire you more for it.”
“Oh yeah, that’s me, so admirable.” I finally looked at him, his eyes were gentle and warm and his lips looked so soft and desirable. My mind flew back to a few weeks ago, staring at my face in the mirror and looking at the light in my eyes, the colour in my cheeks and the smile on my face. No one had ever made me feel that way before, not ever. Mickey was a lot of things, an asshole, a man whore and a downright cunt at times. But he was also the only person that rekindled the fire inside of me, made me smile my first genuine smile in way too many months, and made me feel alive again.
The way he was staring at me, it seemed as though he was lost in his own thoughts, perhaps one’s similar to my own. I wish I knew what he was thinking and be comforted in the fact that I wasn’t crazy. He’d tried to kiss me once drunk at a party, leading to me rejecting his advance, and look how that ended. If I gave into him now, knowing full well that no matter how much I repressed them the feelings were undoubtedly there, could I survive that kind of heartache?
I’d never been in love, I had no idea what it felt like. I’d heard the phrase if you know, you know thrown around, and I couldn’t help but think of Sidney. She thought Billy really loved her and look how that ended, and I knew I wasn’t as strong of a person as she was, my heart was just beginning to piece back together from the betrayal of my cousin.
But Mickey wasn’t Stu, he wasn’t Billy and he wasn’t Ghostface.
I had no thoughts in my mind except one. This to and fro frame of thought had only lasted a matter of seconds before I unthinkingly closed the small gap that separated Mickey and me, my hands moving to his shoulders to pull myself up onto my toes and I kissed him, finally letting myself feel what I hadn’t even realised I’d been so desperately craving.
Chapter Six HERE
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jaehyunsbreadbasket · 8 months
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Dom, Sub, or Switch | Ghostface
Includes Stu, Mickey, Roman, Jill, Amber, Richie, and Ethan
Stu
Sub
Stu's a service top for sure
He'll do anything you say, after all he is very susceptible to peer pressure
He just wants to be good for you because it makes you happy and also because you allow him to cum faster when he behaves
His mind gets so clouded, when you really get him going, he'll agree to anything
He completely shuts his brain off when he's with you, his body is yours for the taking
Mickey
Dom
Nothing turns Mickey on more than having complete control over your body
Constantly testing you to see how far you'll let him go
He knows exactly how to get what he wants out of you
Loves to watch you fall apart for him over and over again
Roman
Switch (Dom leaning)
Roman naturally falls into the dominant role when it comes to his typical hookups
He's quick and bossy, just wanting to get off as soon as possible
But when he really loves you, really feels like you know him, he'll surrender his power to you and fully trust you to take care of him
He has #parentalissues so he'll definitely give you a title of authority that he only uses when he's feeling subby
He's still gonna be a bossy little brat though 90% of the time he subs
Jill
Dom
She's so bossy, Jesus
In the bedroom everything is about her, she's selfish about it
You aren't allowed to cum until she does, and if you do oh boy will you be punished
And Jill's the type that could punish you for hours, she has no limits
She doesn't give a shit about you during sex, you're just a toy for her to use to get off
Amber
Dom
Amber just wants to protect you, take good care of you and make you feel so so good
She's usually quite gentle with you unless you ask otherwise, but she tends to take it slow because she doesn't want to hurt or scare you
Definitely borders on stone top territory because she gets so focused on your pleasure, will even turn you down sometimes when you ask to help her out too
Just give her lots and lots of praise and she'll give it right back to you
Richie
Switch (Dom leaning)
Richie is a bit of a control freak, always wanting to have the upper hand in any given situation
And honestly nothing gets him going quite like having you on your knees for him, completely at his mercy
He's quite open to experiment though and will occasionally allow you to take over
You wanna try out bondage? He's all yours. Don't think he isn't gonna fight you on it though, trying to regain control is half the fun for him when he's subbing
Ethan
Switch (Sub leaning)
He just wants to make you feel good so you'll give him tooonnns of praise
You wanna be fucked hard and called a slut? Done. You wanna edge him for hours and call him your good boy? You got it
As long as you tell him how much you love him and how nobody could make you feel better, he's good
When he doms, he get's so mean. He goes mad with power and will do things totally out of his normal character
When he's subbing he's the sweetest boy in the world, so fucking desperate for you, your perfect baby
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Scream Masterlist
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tastesousweet · 3 months
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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3
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matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader
summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other
warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity
mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3
THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH
"FUCK!"
the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.
you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).
you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.
your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.
"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.
“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.
andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)
you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.
remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.
you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”
“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.
“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”
“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.
“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”
chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”
nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”
“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.
“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.
"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.
you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.
chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.
nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).
“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.
“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.
“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.
“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.
“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.
matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”
౨ৎ
matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.
he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”
speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.
so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.
but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.
“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.
“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.
he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.
౨ৎ
you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).
when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.
"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."
"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"
you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.
"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.
"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.
"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"
"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"
"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.
"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.
"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.
౨ৎ
matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.
"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"
matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."
"you sure?"
"yes?"
"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.
"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."
"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."
"right," matt offers a light laugh.
he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.
matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."
"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."
"chris-"
"please, matt," he begs.
matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.
matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.
you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.
matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.
"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.
"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.
you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."
"then you must have great style," matt jokes.
"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.
"mhm, sure..."
"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.
"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.
your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."
"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.
"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.
"you said it," he laughs.
now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."
"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."
"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.
and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.
౨ৎ
you hate that matt is still on your mind.
and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.
you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.
and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.
"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.
"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."
matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"
he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"
"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.
"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.
you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).
his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.
"i just need you to take me home."
"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.
"right, i figured, smartass."
"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."
"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.
"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.
you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.
"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.
"fuck you," you say under your breath.
"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.
"are you done?"
"i guess." he shrugs.
"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"
"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."
౨ৎ
"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.
the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"
"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.
matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.
౨ৎ
after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.
you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.
“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.
“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.
matt lets go of you and follows you inside.
you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.
you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”
he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”
“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.
he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.
“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.
matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.
you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.
"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.
"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.
he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”
you whine, “we can’t right here."
"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.
"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.
he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.
“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.
“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.
“that’s not fun,” you push.
he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.
“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.
matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”
his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.
he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.
matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.
he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.
you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.
when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.
despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.
you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.
he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.
his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.
matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.
but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.
“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.
“oh? and you want me to…?”
“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.
“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.
you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."
so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.
he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.
matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.
he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.
“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.
he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.
"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.
he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.
you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”
matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.
he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.
matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.
he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.
he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.
he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.
you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.
you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.
he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.
he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”
you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.
matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).
as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.
"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.
"hold it," he huffs.
"can't," you whimper, "just-"
"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.
"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.
he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.
he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.
matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"
you just nod and bite back a smile.
matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.
"c'mere," you tug his hand.
he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.
you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.
until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.
you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.
you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.
"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.
"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"
she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.
"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."
"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.
"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.
andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.
"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.
you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.
matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."
you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."
"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"
"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."
matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.
you both laugh softly before it fizzles.
matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.
it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"
"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.
you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."
he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.
he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”
"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.
he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.
꩜⋆ ˚。⋆🎱˚
tag list (ily):
@rootbeerworshiper
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nuttersincorporated · 4 months
Text
Mickey Mouse does not need your protection
Since Mickey Mouse became public domain, I’ve seen some really wild takes and misinformation going around. Yes, Mickey Mouse is public domain. No, you do not need to protect him. It’s fine if people other than Disney make Mickey Mouse stuff, even if you don’t like the things that are made.
You are not protecting Mickey Mouse. Mickey Mouse is not real. Even if he was, you STILL wouldn’t be protecting him. You’re just sticking up for a megacorporation. Disney has more money and resources than you will ever have and they horde them. You shouldn’t be trying to help them do it.
Disney is a company that loves using public domain properties to make things. They have just tried their absolute hardest to make sure that nobody else could do the same thing. If you think Mickey Mouse should only be used by Disney, you should be upset that Disney made money off public domain stories like Snow White and Rapunzel.
What about things like Winnie the Pooh? Disney didn’t come up with him but they were happy to make money off him. They bought the rights to him and then didn’t share.
‘Ah!’ I hear you say. ‘But Winnie the Pooh actually helps prove our point! When Disney – that poor poor super rich company that should be protected – lost the exclusive rights, a Winnie the Pooh horror movie was made! That’s not in the spirit of the original character!’
Firstly, you can just ignore that movie if you want. I did. Nobody is making you watch it. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
Secondly, there are nice Winnie the Pooh stories out there that aren’t by Disney or the original author. The Pooh books by Jane Riordan are lovely. Her stories are much more in the spirit of the original character than a lot of the Disney comics were.
This is an official Disney comic with Winnie the Pooh
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This is a picture from one of Jane Riordan’s Winnie the Pooh books
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One of them is sweet, kind and in the spirit of the original character. The other is Disney owned and approved.
What would the original author A.A. Milne think of the different adaptions and new works? Well, we don’t know because, at the end of the month, he’ll have been dead for 68 years. However, I can quote one of the original Pooh books about sharing,
And really, it wasn’t much good having anything exciting like floods, if you couldn’t share them with somebody.
Thirdly, Disney does not respect authorial intent.
PL Travers, the author of the Mary Poppins books, did not want Disney to make a movie based on her work. She got coerced into letting them make one. She hated the movie and refused to let them make any more.
What happened after she’d died, the ban on them making more Mary Poppies movies ran out and they got their hands on the rights? They made a sequel.
I think you should be more upset that Disney went against the direct wishes of an author than the fact regular people can now use a character that megacorporation uses. PL Travers was a person. Disney is a company. There is a difference.
I love the original Mary Poppins movie. I don’t care about or like the sequel. However, PL Travers died in 1996. People should be able to use the character now, no matter how you or I feel about those newer stories. Again, you can just ignore them if you want.
The original stories are still there.
Royalties are different to public domain. The profits from PL Travers original books go to her descendants and the Cherry Tree Foundation. They will continue to go there for 80 years after her death and then the royalties will be shared out among any decedents who are alive at that time. The money from those books will continue to go there, no matter what new stories with Mary Poppins get made.
You all seem okay with Disney making money off public domain stories and buying the rights to other stories. Why can't you extend that right to other people?
No one has stolen Mickey from Disney. Disney can and will continue to make money off him. All that’s change is that other people can now do that too.
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schemmentis · 7 days
Text
La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 10
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9
Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour
Summary: Barbara learns the truth and you spy someone unexpected talking with the Feds...
WC: 3.4k
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Barbara Howard is still thinking about the fact she has this ledger, and Melissa does not want it back. The woman knows that she shouldn’t open it- not with the explicit instruction from her friend to not open it, but she feels the need to. Perhaps she could help to balance the checkbook and find where the issues are in the ledger.
So, with Gerald in the office and the girls nowhere around, the woman of God opens up the ledger. And when she sets her eyes upon it, she can’t help but gasp.
It isn’t what she expects to see- not in the slightest. No, instead there are a bunch of names that she’s heard were rumored to be connected to the Irish mob, and others that she knows she's heard her husband mentioned before in his work. Lo and behold- there is the Schemmenti name.
Barbara slams it shut. She should turn this over to the police immediately, and she nearly does. She’s actually in her car and about to pull out before she stops to think what this would mean for your family.
Turning this over means that you would end up in prison, potentially Melissa too if she has any ties to this side of the illegal business. It means that the girls would grow up without a mother figure, perhaps two- ending with those two sweet girls who Barbara absolutely adores in foster care and away from her. It means ripping a family apart that she absolutely adores, even if they do have a hand in what her husband actively roots against. She cannot do this to the Schemmenti family, she decides.
Without a second thought, she hides the ledger that she now knows the truth of in her glovebox. And then she pulls off out of the driveway and heads for church.
When she gets there, she slides into the back pew silently. Barbara is the only one there, no sermon taking place. But she needs the strength that God can give her, so she prays to God by herself.
“Dear Lord,” she whispers softly, head bowed down. “Please... please grant me the strength to carry what I am holding with me now. Please keep those beautiful little ones safe and out of harm’s way. Please... please keep those two, who you know I am speaking of, safe. Please... if not for the two of their sake, for their little girls. Lord, please. I am begging. I am here begging...  because even though they are wrapped up in shady business, they are good people. They are two wonderful women who would do anything for their little girls. And God, please... if something does happen to them, please do see to it that those two little ones are spared of the understanding and disparity of the world. Gerald and I will take them in if we have to. Just please, keep them safe, and keep them from this dark and depraved world that we live in- because they don’t deserve to grow up in this world without somebody, anybody who loves them for who they are.”
She slips out of the church with her eyes down, as if she doesn’t have something that could quite literally get her killed. The woman of God speeds back to her house and hides the ledger back where it once was. There is no way she can let anyone find out she has this- especially not her girls.
By the time you leave Mickey, you feel that you know what you have to do. You have to continue to fight for this- if not for yourself, than for your family- the family that is real and true. You feel the slightest bit better having been able to speak to Melissa’s brother, and as you drive through the countryside, you allow yourself to hum along to the music that plays softly through the speakers. You’re more at ease than you’ve been in the past few days.
When you pick up Melissa, you park the car in the lot and head in through the back. She looks so at ease now, in her element. She’s humming softly to herself as she and Val continue to prep for the dinner rush, and you can’t help but let your eyes go soft as you take in the beautiful sight and sounds.
You snake your arms around her waist and kiss her cheek and then behind her ear in that one spot that almost always makes her shiver. “Hi, my love.”
“Ciao, mi amore,” she whispers back to you as she craned her neck to kiss you gently. “How was your day?”
“Actually…” You start before pausing long enough to kiss her lips again before letting her return most of her focus to her prepwork. Your arms stay around her waist. “It was good.” 
“A quiet day around the house did you good, huh hun? I knew you'd relax eventually.”
You prop your chin on your wife's shoulder. “I went to see Mickey,” You admit softly. You watch your wife's hands as she works. You notice the small pause in their process when she hears what you've said before they keep moving.
“What'd you go all the way up there for?” She mutters as she chops a pepper with a bit more force than before. “‘S a long drive.”
“A drive I needed. It helped clear my head, I think. I'll make it up to you by staying home bored out of my skull tomorrow?” You say, attempting to joke as you squeeze her waist lightly.
Melissa is quiet for a long moment. You don't push her to speak her mind. Instead you let her think as she works, just enjoying being in the presence of your favorite person. You're about to pull away from being so in her space when she sets her knife down.
She turns in your arms, hands on your wrists to keep you from stepping away when she moves. “You coulda talked to me and helped clear your head. Instead you went all the way to the pen.” She sighs, lightly brushing stray hair away from your face. “It was that bad, hey? You needed my goofy ass brother's advice?”
“C'mon, you know it ain't like that, babe.”
“Then what's it like? Tell me.”
“We've both been stressed to hell ‘bout this. How was I gonna just…talk to you ‘bout it? Wring us both through it for the hundredth time?”
The fingers caressing your cheek slide down in order to grip your jaw. “I'm your wife.” Melissa reminds softly. “That's kind of my job, amore. Go through the wringer with you as many times as we need to. I meant it when I told you ‘for better or for worse’.” 
You smile at that, just a bit. You remember when you had first started seeing each other- how you both had your doubts and fears. You remember the day that the two of you decided to lay everything out on the table, weighing the pros and cons of intermingling your businesses and how it would affect both your personal and professional life. She had told you that day that she was in it if you were. You answered her with a passionate kiss. You also remember the day that the two of you were wed and your families were officially tied together- the way that as you both spoke those words in front of your families to witness, Melissa let go of her tough act, her voice wavering and eyes shining with tears, as she told you that the two of you would be together for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death did the two of you apart.
And you have seen each other through better and worse. You’ve seen her on the happiest of days- the day you found out you were pregnant, the day the girls were born, when they took their first steps, when she opened her restaurant. And you’ve seen her through the lowest of lows- the day her Nonna died, the day she finally cracked under all the pressure with opening Twelve Tables, how she’s had quite a few moments of doubt when it comes to raising the twins. You’ve seen each other through moments of wealth, as well through moments where you were living paycheck to paycheck and doing everything you could to make ends meet. You’ve both seen one another in sickness and in health- whether that be while you were suffering from terrible morning sickness during your pregnancy with Cat and Rosie, or when the two of you were taken down by the flu that the girls brought home from daycare. You’ve held each other through it all, loving and cherishing every waking and sleeping moment that you share together, and you fully plan on it until death does the two of you apart. 
Now though, the two of you aren’t sure when it will be that death parts you. For all you know, it could be tonight. And that… terrifies you beyond belief. Even before, when things in the business got rocky, it’s never been as bad as it is now. You’ve never been in as much danger. But now? Now you’re on the forefront of this operation, and you have the feds tailing you and presumably tracing your every move.
You sigh, Melissa's eyes on yours softening you as they always do- especially now with how relaxed you can see they are. She's not upset or angry, just trying to understand your choices and remind you she's here. 
She uses the fingers gripping your jaw to pull your face to her own so her lips can kiss yours. “Sono con te amore mio. Sempre.” Melissa whispers the reminder against your lips, her hand sliding away from your jaw to the back of your neck as she kisses you deeper this time.
The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly behind you in the room makes you pull back after a moment. You gently press your forehead to your wife's, not moving away further.
“Hey, Val.” You greet your wife's manager without looking.
“How many times am I gonna have to remind you the restaurant is off limits to foolin’ around?” She teases with a smile as she moves past both of you.
“That depends.” You say as you slowly pull away from Melissa, though not completely. Your hands are still on her hips, hers are still at the side of your neck and gently threading the fingers of her other hand through your hair. “How long you plannin’ on workin’ here?”
“As long as your wife lets me, Y/N. You know that.” Val tosses back easily.
“Then I guess you got at least a hundred or so more reminders that might happen.”
Melissa lightly hits your shoulder for that. “Stop.” She murmurs. It doesn't sound that much like she means it when she kisses you again. “Lemme finish what I'm doin’ then I'll be ready to get the girls.”
You continue to hold the redhead by her waist as she finishes chopping the cilantro used for garnish before she sighs softly. “Okay, let’s go get our little tornadoes, and then… Val, I’ll be back for the dinner shift.”
“Melissa, you know I have it handled if you want to spend time with your family,” the manager reminds her.
“I think I need to be here,” the owner states. “But I might just have to bring my circus with me.”
“We’ll see you later, Val,” you nod in the woman’s direction as you guide your wife out the back door.
The second that you’re out of the restaurant though, your wife has you pinned up against the stone wall. It catches you off guard, but it’s not unwelcome. 
“Honey,” you mutter against her lips after a few minutes- your wife’s hands and lips wandering. “Baby, as much as I would love to… you do have security cameras out here, and we do have to pick up the girls.”
She groans but does pull away. “We need a night where we aren’t both so exhausted, and we can actually have time to ourselves where we aren’t just sleeping.”
“I’ll see if I can take the girls to one of our parents this weekend,” you promise her. You lead your beautiful wife down to the car, and you pull off in the direction of the girls.
Once you’ve collected them, you take them back to the restaurant, and they are all too thrilled to jump on Valentina with hugs and kisses.
“Can you keep an eye on them?” Melissa asks her manager. “Just for like… twenty minutes?”
Val eyes the two of you, who are still very much undressing each other with your eyes. “No.”
“You still want a job?” your wife threatens, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let me remind you that I do own this place.”
“You wouldn’t fire me,” Valentina rolls her eyes. “Fine. Just… don’t… anywhere where I’ll be able to see it on the security cameras.”
By the time the two of you reenter the restaurant, you’re both much more at ease. The girls are sitting at their designated table in the back with their coloring books and crayons with Val, giggling as she too doodles with them.
“We really need to give her a raise,” you sigh softly as you watch with a soft fondness in your eyes.
“Oi, remember who you're married to.” Melissa says with a small jab of her elbow to your ribs when she sees your look at the twins with Val.
You roll your eyes but kiss your wife again just to make sure she knows you definitely didn't forget. “Like I could forget being the luckiest woman in the world, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah, just watch our girls, sweet talker.” Melissa answers despite her smile and a tint to her cheeks.
You take over coloring duty to let Valentina follow your wife back to the kitchen for the dinner rush that's starting to come in. The twins chatter with you about their days over their crayons and pages. You manage to keep them quiet and contained to your table until Val is bringing out little plates for them for dinner. You smile knowing well that it's your wife's work and nothing at all that's actually on the menu. The best and solely Melissa made things were reserved for your tiny twin terrors.
“Mommy!” Both your girls are saying excitedly, with mouths full a few minutes later.
“Stay here.” You say softly at them starting to scramble for your wife despite her making her way over.
Melissa sets a plate in front of you and one next to you for herself. Quickly kissing the heads of your girls and murmuring to them softly as she wipes their faces. It's only then that she takes her spot next to you for her dinner break. 
“You comin’ home with us for bedtime or are you stayin’ to close with Val?” You ask as you work on stabbing another forkful of pasta.
“I don't wanna make ya come back.” Melissa answers. “It'll be late and I don't want to—”
“No fuckin’ way.” You cut your wife off when you glanced back up from your plate, your eyes catching a table across the restaurant floor.
“Mam! That's a bad word!” Rosie says loudly from her spot standing on her chair next to you instead of sitting. You wince as most of the sentence is said directly into your ear.
“Mam you gotta pay the jar a dollar!” Cat exclaims from next to her sister, referencing the swear jar on the entertainment center in your living room.
“What is it?” Melissa asks, seeing your face. “Rosie, sweetheart, sit down before you fall.” She adds without even looking at your youngest.
“Sit down completely.” You add when you see Rosie merely crouch on her chair instead in the corner of your eye. You lean a bit more into your wife, gesturing as subtly with your fork as you can. “Look at who's sittin’ at the table ‘cross the floor.”
Melissa glances about the room, looking like she's merely checking on the restaurant and that her staff is working even though she's on break. You know when she sees it though because a half second after her head is turning back to face you, her eyes wide.
“I know that is not Uncle Dom sittin’ with the Feds in my restaurant.” She hisses out at you.
“‘Cept it is. It definitely is.” You retort, forcing most of your attention back to your meal and your daughters. 
“You think he's talkin’?”
You scoff at your wife's question. “Dom? Flipping? I don't think so, babe. I think he'd sooner have a heart attack at your restaurant for the dramatics of it than do that.”
“Then they're pressin’ him.” Melissa guesses, doing her best to not seem as if she's noticed that particular table at all.
“Or tryin’ to.” You cede. “Maybe finally gettin’ closer on the Bobby business. Realized it ain't somebody like us they should be worried about.”
“God, if only. I ain't gonna put my guard down yet though.”
“I wouldn't.” You agree.
You're nearly finished eating when Val comes to your table, leaning close to your wife's side. “Dom is askin’ for you. I told him he'd have to wait.” She relays, glancing between the two of you for reactions. 
Valentina doesn't know about the salon and it's extra business. She doesn't have to, though. She lives in the neighborhood and she knows plenty well who people like Dom are. If you guessed, you'd imagine she has an idea of who you and your wife are, too. 
“Thanks, Val. I'll take care of it, huh? You mind bringin’ the girls a couple cannolis?”
You groan as your daughters cheer and Val walks away. “Baby, why?” 
Melissa leans to kiss your cheeks. “‘Cause they've been little girls on their best behavior for their moms tonight.” She says loud enough for the twins, shooting them a smile. “And to keep them occupied just a little longer.” She adds in a whisper to you.
You reach and grasp your wife's wrist as she gets up to leave the table, watching Agent Shaw and Danik rise from Dom's table and shake his hand before they leave. You look back to Melissa who looks down at you. “Be careful, yeah?” You whisper before you kiss her knuckles. 
She smiles, her fingertips brushing your cheek in affection when you pull away. “I'll be fine.” She promises before stepping away to weave through the tables on her dinner floor.
Valentina comes over and brings your girls dessert, and they grin the entire time that they eat, the chocolate sauce and raspberry sauce finding its way more to their cheeks than their mouths. You silently curse your wife as you usher them into the bathroom to clean their sticky faces and fingers- but you have to admit that they’re absolutely precious.
“Why’re you here?” Melissa asks the older man- the one who took your salon out from under you. “And why the hell were you talkin’ to the feds?”
Dom shrugs. “I wanted dinner.”
“You know you can always get dinner over at Ma’s. You have no business bein’ in here during our rush, and you know that,” your wife says pointedly.
“They were askin’ me questions,” he tells her. “Asking about you and the restaurant- if this place had anything to do with Bobby’s murder.”
“What the hell could they be askin’ ‘bout?” the redhead grumbles. “They already searched the damn place and tore it up. I’m sure you heard about it.”
“I told ‘em that the restaurant is legit,” Dom says quietly. “I told ‘em that you put your whole heart into this place, just as you do with the salon… that they need to stop harassin’ you, or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
“We already told them that,” Melissa mutters. “They have no right showin’ up here like that.”
“Well, they did,” the man shrugs. “And it seems like you should be in the clear with the way that they saw how business is conducted- that you brought your girls here. Which is why, I have a proposition for you.”
“And that would be?”
“We start using Twelve Tables as the front.”
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crestfallercanyon · 6 months
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I think Ian would love when Mickey takes long showers.
The rest of the Gallaghers try to complain, and Ian would shut that shit down immediately. Mickey rarely does something so self-indulgent that isn't, y'know, a violent impulse. This is something that no one else gets to see, this isn't Mickey putting on a toughness show, this isn't anything but Mickey taking care of Mickey and Ian loves that for him. Wants him to have that for as long as he can.
Because here's the thing -- Ian remembers the filthy dirty boy he used to fuck in the Kash and Grab.
While Ian never judged Mickey for it (hell, who hasn't experienced a water shut off or heater shortage in Southside?) he knew that Mickey experienced it worst than most. Half the neighborhood called Mickey smelly for fuck's sake, it was well known that Mickey was not clean.
I also imagine Mickey had to fake-it-til-you-make-it in feeling okay with being that dirty. He stopped taking frequent showers or bothering with any hygiene products because he knew the Milkoviches only had so much hot water (or water in general). Terry got first dibs because if he didn't get what he wanted then his piss-poor mood would dictate how everyone's day's went.
Then, Mickey gave next priority to Mandy. Mandy's a girl, which when he was younger didn't really mean anything to him, until she came home wildly upset about being dirty, about how all the girls wouldn't stop pointing out how awful she smelled, how she got her period and the bloodstains were still in her clothes and she didn't have enough water to clean them out but she didn't have any more clean clothes, and fuck, Mickey realized girls were fucking mean when it came to shit like that, and Mickey never wanted her to deal with that ever again. After that, Mickey made sure Mandy had enough water to stay clean, to be orderly, because Mandy cared and Mandy deserved to feel good about herself.
If his brothers were home, they'd get it next, because they somehow always smelled worse than Mickey did. However, that was rarely a problem, and a lot of the time after Terry and Mandy they didn't really have much left in the tank anyway.
So Mickey learned to not care. Not care about being gross and disgusting and feeling itchy at times. To smell clothes and while it was sharp to his nose it was whatever. So something gave him a rash once, he can fucking live. Everyone seems to look at him like he's even more dangerous when he's filthy, so it comes with its own perks, right? Who cares if some nights he couldn't really sleep. He's a kid, and who fucking cares, he's probably not living that long anyway.
But as Mickey starts having more people care about him (and care more about himself in turn) things change in his head. Even when he comes back in season 7, he is nowhere near as covered in dirt as he was when he was young. And while some of this can be chalked up to not being a kid anymore, that's certainly not most of it. The self-loathing he had no longer manifests so outwardly, he's no longer living in a burn out and die young mindset, and he's got people who he gives a shit what they think about him. He wants to try to like himself the way other people (Ian) likes him. Which means being fucking clean.
So he starts to take long showers. And he realizes that, yeah, he likes the feel of having hot water on him, melting the day away. Likes having the assurance that he can have this without being covered in blood and needing to medically clean out the wound (if he'd even do it then). He likes... taking showers. Being clean. Having clean clothes. And Ian, of course, notices.
So, when Ian can hear Mickey taking a shower, and taking his fucking time and actually taking care of himself, Ian freaking loves it. Doesn't let anyone bother Mickey about the water, doesn't let anyone tell him what soaps to use or not use. It's all for his disposal.
And when Mickey's done, Ian will open the door and join Mickey in with the steamy bathroom. Before Mickey can utter a single word about it (most days he'll try to crack something self-deprecating, not quite broaching sorry but as close as he usually gets; on particularly vulnerable days he will try to genuinely apologize) Ian kisses him. Tells him he smells good. Tells him he looks good. Ian's a big fan of positive reinforcement. He's also a big fan of the smile on Mickey's face when he's feeling good about himself.
Ian of course wishes he could get Mickey to feel good about himself every day, but, it's a work in progress just like everything else. Mickey's got to unlearn a childhood built on the belief that he was barely worth garbage. That takes time. Ian gets it.
An easy place to start, though? Enjoying when his man takes his long hot showers.
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redwiccanrobin · 8 months
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In the episode that features Monica’s funeral, Frank gives a speech. He goes up and says with as much love as he can about how Monica changed his life. How she taught him to live. It’s weirdly sweet for Frank. But the moment I wanted to talk about is that the cameras centers Ian as Frank says this.
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He looks contemplative. Like there’s a vision in his mind that he can’t ignore. That vision is Mickey. There’s probably regret and guilt racking through him as well. Regret that he left that man he loves at the border. Probably wondering what would have happened if he had just gone with him. Because he wants to be with Mickey. Guilt that the man sitting next to him is nowhere near that level. Even though he wants to try with him.
Mickey caused a spark in Ian. A coursing love that consumed him even when they were at odds. He was safety and a thrill all at the same time for Ian. Ian found someone he was sexually, romantically, and platonically compatible with. Mickey held him tight when he walked him out of that jail cell. Mickey held him tight before he walked into that hospital. Mickey crawled into bed, said sorry for disappearing for a while, kissed his head. Mickey forgave him for all the things he did whilst manic. Things that hurt Mickey in ways that Ian never wanted to do. Because he understood that Ian wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
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There’s a parallel between Frank/Monica and Ian/Mickey. Not because they’re similar. But because they’re opposites. Yes, Mickey taught Ian how to live. Yes, Mickey was the light that Ian needed. He was everything that Frank described Monica as for Ian. But the difference is the way Ian and Mickey take care of each other.
Frank and Monica encouraged self-destruction in each other. Frank always had this fear when Monica would be on her meds. Almost like he was afraid that if she was stable she would realize the kind of man he is and leave for good. Of course, she’s still a grown woman with agency. She was in charge of her mental health and chose not to take care of it and let it run amok. But seeing how excited Frank got when she was acting “crazy” emboldened her further to not take her meds. Monica encouraged Frank’s drinking and drug use. In that speech he gave, Frank revealed that it was Monica that introduced him to hard drugs. The rest is history. She liked him getting high or drunk as she saw it as thrilling. Like Monica, Frank is an adult who had the ability to get sober. He never took it though. A lot of that stems from the “fun” he had with Monica.
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The main difference is that Mickey and Ian want to be the best versions of each other. And they encouraged the other to do the same. When Ian was diagnosed with bipolar, Mickey was the most supportive and caring of his situation. Even when they went into married life, we see subtle signs that Mickey still makes sure that Ian is taking care of himself. There’s even a deleted scene where he checks in on Ian; asking if he was okay, noting that his husband was slipping into a depressive episode, made sure he was taking his medication. Unlike Frank, Mickey isn’t afraid of Ian having a stable footing. He wants that because he doesn’t want Ian to suffer. Ian can talk Mickey down like no one else can. With both the situation with Terry and Mickey’s anxiety about moving to the West Side, Ian offered emotional support. He listened to his husband, knew all the ways to calm Mickey. He doesn’t want Mickey to spiral and to instead stay afloat. Unlike Monica, Ian doesn’t encourage the destructive side of Mickey for his own fun. He wants the happy Mickey who feels comfortable with voicing his emotions.
Mickey and Ian have their problems. Every couple does. Sometimes, they don’t handle it the right way. But, when the storm passes, they take a breath and talk to one another. Making it clear they still love each other. They accept each other at their worst. They encourage each other at their best.
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Bad Reputation 1
Warnings: dark elements, noncon, abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.
Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
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“I can’t tell you how much I need this,” Maria sighs as you put down the cocktail before her.
“Yeah, me too,” you sit back and twirl the straw in your drink.
“You sure about this place?” She looks around as she lifts the glass filled to the brim with a pink and purple ombre, topped with a wedge of bright lime. “Seems a bit young for us.”
“Uh, well, Google Maps isn’t exactly intuitive, I guess. You said drinks and I didn’t think you’d wanna go down to some dive.”
“Mm, yeah, I might run into my husband,” she scoffs, setting down her drink and rubbing her temples, “I can’t explain to you how intense it’s been. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”
“Sounds like he wants to be your father, not your husband,” you roll your eyes.
“No, no ‘I told you so’s’,” she crosses her arms, “because I know. You were right. He’s controlling. I just… I didn’t think he’d get this bad.”
You nod. You don’t want to be right. You care for your friend. You want her to be okay.
“Where does he think you are right now?”
“With the kids,” she says guiltily, “I told him I was taking them to my parents’ place. Which I did, he just thinks I’m there too.”
“Jeez,” you rub your chin, “so, what do you think? Talking to a therapist or a lawyer?”
She looks at you, a dire spark in her eyes, “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure it out. Either one is going to be like pulling teeth.”
“Yeah, I can only imagine.”
“God, I wish I was you,” she lifts her glass again, “single, childfree, alive.”
“Oh, Mar, don’t say that. You just need to get through this. And you can. The both of you just need to figure it out. You need to adjust. You never did, really. He kept on doing the same things, meanwhile you gave up everything to be with the kids. You deserve to get some of you back.”
“Please,” she wiggles her nose, “you know I get weepy when I drink.”
“And look at me getting sentimental,” you chuckle, “alright, that’s it.” You pick up your cocktail and chug it, trickling a little down the corner of your mouth. You wipe away the excess and slam the glass down, “you’re going to finish that. Then we’re going to get another and we’re going to dance.”
“Dance? College ended a long time ago–”
“We’re still wild, Mar, you’ll see. Down it and lets do a double to get in the mood. I’m not letting you go until your leaning.”
She huffs and shakes her head, hovering her drink before her lips, “you really are a bad influence.”
“Oh, you can be sure to tell Frank he was right about me,” you wink.
🎶
You come out onto the pavement as the buzzing of the music sticks in your ears. You made it to last call but Maria is barely holding on as she clings to your shoulder. You giggle and search for a cab among the rabble of clubbers dispersing in pairs and larger groups. 
You see the Golden Arches just behind the row of buildings across the street, “how about some Mickey D’s, huh? Suck up some of that vodka?”
“No, I gotta get home,” she babbles into a belch.
“You know you want a McChicken? Oh, how about nuggets? You know the sweet and sour sauce is your fave.”
“Stop!” She nearly shouts in your ear.
“I’m not going home till I have a juicy Big Mac in these paws,” you drag her down the sidewalk.
“Ugh, I can’t believe it’s after two,” she manages to bobble beside you, swaying slightly as she keeps a hold of your arm, “I’m a mother! My kids–”
“Are well taken care of,” you assure her, “this is girls’ night and it’s not over yet.”
You turn the corner, a few others ahead of you seem to have the same destination in sight. In the back of your mind, you know you’ll regret it in the morning but right now, your mouth is watering for over processed meat and cheese. Maria hiccups and hums.
“I’m gonna feel like shit,” she voices your inner monologue.
“We can feel like shit together,” you laugh, “just like college–”
Suddenly she slips away from you. At first you think she tripped but then you see the shadow dragging her back down the pavement. You know that gait, that lumbering rhythm, shoulders squared, nostrils puffing like a bull. Really? That jackass.
“Frank,” you shuffle to catch Maria’s other arm as she stumbles senselessly behind him, whimpering, “let her go.”
“Let my wife go,” he marches but you cling to Maria, drawing him back, “stay out of my marriage.”
“This isn��t about you, we’re having fun–”
“You need to grow up,” he keeps one hand on Maria as he rears on you, wagging his thick finger in your face, “mind your fucking business and stay away from my goddamn wife.”
“She’s an adult. She can do what she wants–”
“I know your bullshit. You get her all worked up then talk her into your dumb shit. Because you can’t hold onto a man of your own–”
“Pfft, whatever, I don’t need some asshole like you, Frank Castle–”
You stagger back as his fist cracks across your cheek. You taste blood as you fall backwards onto your ass, crying out at the pain that zips through your hip, ankle thrumming as you manage to unhook your heel from a crack in the sidewalk. You whine and cradle your head.
“Oh my god, are you o–” Maria reaches for you, hanging from Frank’s grasp.
“Come on. Home,” he snarls and jerks her away, “where you belong.”
“Hey,” you get to your knees, head swirling as you try to plant a foot.
“You follow me and I’ll leave you in the gutter,” he stops and points at you again, “fucking trash.”
You spit out blood into your hand, frozen in fear and dizziness. You can barely believe he hit you. He really hit you. You just hope he doesn’t do worse to Maria.
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zmickmilk · 25 days
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When fiona is like, "I didn't" about mickey coming to see Ian. She isn't expecting him not to come because it's mickey. Fiona watched Frank, the person who was meant to love and care for Monica, not show up and support her with her illness for years. Yeah, fiona doesn't really like mickey, but she would be doubtful of anyone showing up. She expects it will be her and her family once again pushed to take care of each other. She expects disappointment cause she's traumatised and wants to look out her for baby brother. If fiona put her trust in mickey, it would just be harder for her to comfort Ian when he doesn't show.
And even ignoring that, she was right. Mickey didn't show up for Ian then. He does after, but that's not the point. Fiona isn't a massive bitch just because she expected something that happened.
People are always so hard on fiona because of how she treats the milkovichs. I agree that a lot of the time, she's out of place and mean for no real reason. She should be more open-minded and understanding, but at the same time, I get it.
Fiona doesn't know the milkovichs, mickey, in particular. She doesn't hang out with him and get invited to sleepovers. So she doesn't see past his kinda problematic shell. Mickey is just a kid, but he's also the kid who was trying to kill Ian, who beat lip up in the streets. Mickey is known to be a criminal, rude, and just like every other straight white guy on the southside. It's not surprising that she doesn't immediately warm up to him when in her eyes it was only a few months ago that he got a whore pregnant and married her. Fiona doesn't know a lot of the context that makes Mickey so forgivable.
I'm not completely defending her with her hate to the milkoviches. Like she should be able to understand that there is more to them, their kids in a bad situation. Her hate for them isn't entirely unwarranted, mickey way more than mandy. Can we remember that mandy did almost get Ian killed tho by lying and saying he sa her?? I might be a little mean, too.
Basically I just think people should try see fiona perspective on it a bit more and not just make her out to be a heartless bitch.
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anthruser · 2 months
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i am neutral towards galladads (more so...towards no), but every so often i tangle with my personal takes (or what i'd love to see) and i wanna share. strap in, it's long. pt. 1
Ian doesn't push the thought of kids. They had a conversation about it after s11x12, but it took some time, it wasn't immediate. Basically, I think Ian relished the idea of being an uncle for a while. After all, it's always Mickey before anything.
They took care of Franny, Freddie (+upcoming kiddo), and Liam when they were asked to as favors. It subconsciously became this mental practice for them. Some unspoken tension kept rising, cause they felt the other was thinking the same thing but went unmentioned. Partially cause Ian decided not to press, and doing so meant breaking that threshold.
I think Mickey brought it up one day probably, Ian felt somewhat defensive at first, but since he always reminds Mickey about the importance of "communication," it'd bite him in the ass, so he gave in and spoke his truth. They had another conversation about it that ended in an agreement to see a "shrink." They started going, it was a deconstruction of years of trauma, fears, repressed emotions, y'know the drill.
Considering that they were between 25-27 when the show ended, I think they engaged in "intense" therapy for like 5-7 years maybe. Trying to talk through the bulks of it, for the purpose of parenting in the near future.
Through that time, they first contacted Debbie, had thoroughly researched artificial insemination (pls mickey thinking he would have to bang Debbie makes me cry 💀), had a lengthy talk with her. I haven't reached shameless far enough to know Debbie's character, but I think she probably gives them informed advice, a lot of "you guys sure you wanna do this??" And I don't think it stems from a place of objection, more so worry. I like to think she eventually caves in and accepts to help them when they're ready. She loves Ian, Ian loves Franny and Debbie (fuck JW for making it seem like he doesn't in s11) and Mickey and Debbie are besties.
(this is a huge reach but I ponder nonetheless) After thinking of Debbie, I think maybe Ian thinks of Mandy. I fully believe (like many other people) that Ian kept in touch with Mandy from time to time ever since she left, and at some point encouraged her and Mickey to reconnect. It's a slow process, but he knows both of them needed it and yearned for it deep down.
He breaks the news to her that they're gonna be parents at some point, sort of fills her in on the process and the years of therapy, gets Mickey to tell her anecdotes too or whatever. The thing is, at some point in the conversation, he yaps about how he has always wanted two, a boy and a girl (because Ian is a dork like that). That Debbie is only gonna do this once for now because...well that was the agreement, ofc, and he just doesn't wanna overwhelm Mick with two kids of their own even though that's what they practically baby sit.
Jokingly (at first), Mandy offers herself as a surrogate in case they aim for another kid. Ian sheepishly declines, that he couldn't ask her after everything she's been through, but Mandy reassures him that shit is different now. Times have changed, and that even though it's a big deal, she'd comply. Ian says he'll think about it, talk with Mick in case shit does happen as to not spook him. It was a pleasant talk.
He talks to Mickey and at first he doesn't know how to handle the thought of two kids, one of them from Mandy, and he almost feels like all this time in therapy could crumble down at the thought of Mandy being a surrogate. They have a long ass talk.
At the end Mickey affirms that he is open to the responsibility of two kids. The whole thing goes like Ian telling him he doesn't have to do this, that he's fine with just one and that he doesn't have to comply just because Ian would love two kids, and Mickey being like "all these years and you still don't get it through your thick skull that you ain't making me do anything I don't want to" (affectionately ofc). He reassures Ian that if he's making these decisions with him it's because he wants to, and he admits he owes a lot of it to that "shrink" they go to he's come to appreciate. It was a lovely conversation tbh and many fears and goals were shared between them.
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mickedy · 6 days
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do you have strong feelings about minnie? the way disney writes her bothers me severely, i'm trying to find out how to write her better and i'd like help!
she's always written as nothing more than a mickey genderswap, they have the exact same character strengths and flaws, i want to write her like how ortensia is written to oswald or daisy is written to donald (in. ducktales 2017 at least when they dont feel like being . so toxic.), theyre character foils and they work better together
for example daisy is more practical and sassy and headstrong?? while donald isn't very practical he is very emotional and in the moment and isnt as ambitious as her he's just a guy
but minnie doesnt compliment mickey in any way their relationship is just Same Braincell Teehee
and its like every time disney TRIES to have friction between the two its usually making minnie less interesting than mickey in the sense he's going off the walls insane and she has to fold her arms and make him stop, w donald and daisy donald has to ground daisy sometimes but minnie can usually do no wrong ever??
i want to write minnie as mickey's foil in a similar way because she's always a copy and paste mickey and she deserves so so so much more, but im also worried that making a foil for mickey would stray too far from minnie's personality range?? which is why i keep referencing donald and daisy specifically because they have similar personalities but still manage to be foils, and i ALSO dont want to make her copy and paste ortensia, WHILE ALSO NOT MAKING HER JUST LESS INTERESTING MICKEY AS THEY DO SOMETIMES by just writing her as feminine mickey without the character flaws he has, so its a really weird balancing act here
You hit the nail on the head with a lot of points here. I've always found Minnie to be the MOST sidelined out of the 5 in terms of characterization. She's almost always written as "girl mickey", very interchangeable with him, not really developed with her own personality in mind independent of her relationship with Mickey.
I guess on a lot of levels I consider Minnie and Mickey to be like... really sturdy nuts. They have these extremely tough shells surrounding them, they are two of the most private people you will ever meet. Outwardly friendly, outwardly pretty boring and unemotional, a pretty vanilla flavored couple at any way you look at them.
But, we don't really get to see what goes on under that shell. What they're like in private. My favorite stories with Mickey are the ones where they crack open the shell, even just a smidge-- and we get to look on the inside. What we see is almost always the same. Above all else, Mickey cares about his friends. Mickey cares about his friends so much that he would take a bullet for each of them. He would give up everything. Friendship means more than anything else to Mickey Mouse.
On the flipside, we don't really get that same introspection with Minnie. I can't think of a time where they let her be emotional, like that. She's sweet and patient and polite and filled to the brim with goodness and kindness, but that's just what her shell looks like. She's very, very reserved. Like Mickey, maybe even moreso.
A lot of this is definitely because the writers don't really care about Minnie on that level, because she's Woman and she's Girlboss and whatnot. When they show her being emotional, it's pretty much always played up for laughs because Women Are Emotional amiright wink wink nudge nudge 😁🔫 <- (he does not know he is playing into misogynistic tropes)
But I like to think she just has these incredibly sturdy walls around her character. You will most likely never get to see what her private self is like in the entire time that you know her. I seriously doubt Minnie's actual friends know that much about her.
Mickey cares about his friends, but what does Minnie care about...? Where Mickey is an optimist, I consider Minnie to be a pessimist. That is a very strange claim to make, I know. But I think the reason we never see her walls break down is because... there'd just be more walls. She's such an incredibly reserved individual, she'd rather stick her hand in a paper shredder than admit that she's got feelings.
She's pretty no-nonsense in that regard, too. Mickey is a compassionate guy, but Minnie is more quick to lash out and start kicking and yelling when someone pisses her off. Tying back to the whole "friendship is Mickey's emotional core" thing... friendship is definitely not Minnie's.
I'm not saying she's not friendly. She's incredibly friendly! She's such a sweet and affectionate individual. But it's all very much an outward thing. I think, if you're looking for a "foil", that's definitely where they clash in that regard. Mickey is a plain, unassuming guy who-- at his core-- is sweet and silly and compassionate, and motivated by his love for his friends. Minnie is outwardly sweet and silly and compassionate, but doesn't have that same motivating factor, the deeper you look.
In the end, this is all really my interpretation of Minnie's character. Because she is definitely a victim of misogynistic writing, which sucks 🤷‍♀️ But I do think there is a lot of potential to make her and Mickey clash a lot more often than they're shown to... because, they don't really show themselves to anybody! That sort of intimate exploration of their character is something that really only comes out with each other. Which leaves a lot of room to mold their inner personalities into something much more interesting...
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The Doc Is In 🩺 | Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell Imagine
Takes place during TGM
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TGM Masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x doctor!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)
Content Warnings: fluff, slight profanity, mentions of medical operations | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.7k
Requested 📨 yes/no (for @wildellaa 🤍)
Premise: Funny how a routine checkup after a near-death experience can lead to sudden revelations. For the dagger squad, this revelation comes in the news their infamous instructor happens to be quite close to the new base physician…who happens to be a high ranking Air Force personnel.
Note: I’m sorry by how long this took and I apologize if its bad/weak 🥹 I started a new job (my first job every) and it’s been a wild couple weeks but I promise I’m coming back! Also side note- the joke I added about the Air Force Dress Blues is an actual jab the branches use against the Air Force 😂 my mom was in the AF for 24 years and hated the Blues after they changed the uniform.
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“Are you feeling any lightheadedness, nausea, or ringing in your ears?” Nat squinted against the light shining in her eyes, but adjusted before answering.
“No, just a little shaken. That’s all.” She kept her gaze forward as instructed, blinking once the light turned off. A light chuckle left the physician's lips.
“I would expect so after what you just experienced,” her smile was kind, jotting down notes on the pad beside her. “Normal behavior, but if you feel any of the symptoms I just listed at any point let me know. It doesn’t appear you have a concussion but we can never be too careful. And no visible sign of injuries to the chest or torso, indicating you had a more graceful landing than most pilots I see.”
“Is emergency ejections a common occurrence for you, Colonel?”
The woman chuckled, “You’d be surprised. Between the Air Force and Navy, my resume with treating you a lot doesn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.” She goes to the computer to enter the report, “Most cases involve broken or bruised ribs. But thankfully you appear in good shape. We just wanna watch out for any changes regarding your head.”
Nat nodded, moving to zip up her flight suit while the physician, an Air Force Colonel, the highest ranking for Air Force officers, with the last name L/n-Mitchell, wrote up the report notes on the computer.
Huh, funny how she shared the same last name as her boss.
“Your vitals are normal, no visible external injuries, and no sign of a concussion,” she repeated, fingers typing away, “but again we’ll keep an eye on those. I’ll get you and Lieutenant Floyd checked in for overnight observation—in the meantime is there anyone I can call to bring you anything you might need?”
“No need,” Nat waved a hand, “They’re all out in the lobby waiting for an update.” Rooster had sent her a text saying they had her and Bob’s things from their locker and food from the base Exchange.
Colonel L/n-Mitchell chuckled, “I’ll go grab them for you two.” She goes to the edge of the curtain, speaks to the person on the other side briefly before moving the fabric away to release the divide between the two spaces. When she does so the curtain reveals a pale-faced Bob on the opposite side.
“You good, Floyd?” Nat asks, untying her boots to make herself comfortable since she was to stay the night. Her answer was a groan.
“I might have thrown up a couple times.”
“What’s the diagnosis?”
“Just the case of my stomach being flipped upside down,” Bob leans back until he’s sprawled out on the bed. “I’m surprised I didn’t crap my pants.” Phoenix cringed, but bit back a laugh.
The Colonel placed her pen in her front pocket, smiling at the aviators, “I’ll be right back with your friends. Hang tight.” She opened the front curtain and disappeared, combat boots echoing with each step.
Bob and Nat waited about five minutes tops when she returned with Jake, Bradley, Mickey, Reuben, and Javy. “They’re in one piece,” she teased, moving to the side so they could all greet each other.
“We got your favorite,” Jake lifted a bag from Subway. Pulling out two sandwiches for Nat and Bob. They thanked them and started showing down when the curtain drew back again to reveal Pete.
“Sorry I’m late,” eyes instantly go toward the physician causing a smile to form on his lips. “Well this is a surprise.” Her own smile appeared.
“I told you I was transferring here.” The statement had all eyes, minus Bradley’s go wide. In fact Bradley mirrored Mav’s happy expression. Indicating he had some sort of familiarity to the Colonel.
Pete shocked them even more when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I was expecting to see you next week,” he lets his eyes wander her uniform clad figure, grinning from ear to ear. She was in her Air Force ABUs, “Did you get in last night?”
“I did. Got settled at tlf, was planning on surprising you tonight but it looks like fate had other ideas,” she giggled, accepting his kiss causing gasps to ring out. “I take it this bunch belongs to you?”
“Hold the phone,” Javy said what everyone was thinking. He pointed at Mav, “You,” then pivoted to the woman, “And you are….”
She finished for him, “married.”
“Married!”
“I missed some chapters.”
“You never said you were married,” Phoenix stated, not seeing a wedding ring on either of their hands. It was common for military personnel to not wear rings due to their jobs, but surely Maverick would’ve mentioned in passing.
“I thought you guys knew.”
Javy scoffed, “We sure did not. Let alone to the base physician.”
“New base physician,” she corrected, “I just transferred here so really no one would have known. Although,” she turns to Bradley, “I thought you would’ve said something, Bradley.” The pilot just shrugged and mumbled how his thoughts were occupied with Nat and Bob. “Anyway, it is nice to meet you all. Sorry we had to become acquainted in these circumstances.”
The pilots were flabbergasted. First to find out that their instructor was married, and second to discover it was to a full bird Colonel.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Colonel,” Jake began, not used to addressing Air Force personnel. The Navy’s equivalent to a full bird colonel was Captain. Which happened to be her husband's rank. And generally when licensed physicians enter the Air Force they’re automatically ranked Captain or Major. So it made him wonder how long Pete’s wife had been in the Air Force to reach the rank of Colonel. “But where were you before coming to Miramar?”
“Vandenberg.” Ah, the Air Force Base up north in central California. One of the largest bases in the country and satellite home of both NASA and SpaceX.
Not to mention in the last two decades it had several shark attacks on its beaches.
The next hour consisted of the squad asking the couple several questions including the typical, “how long have you two been together?” “Have you always been in the Air Force?” And “Why haven’t you mentioned you were married, Captain?”
“Again, I thought you knew,” Mav reinstated, slightly flustered from the knowing look he received from his wife.
“We’ve been married ten years,” Y/n explained with a smile. “Though we’d been friends for some time. So…” she brought a finger to her lips, “I wanna say it was 2004 when we met for the first time. I had just commissioned.”
“What did you come in as?”
“Captain,” she answered Payback, “well, Lieutenant in your case.”
“And how long have you been a full bird, ma’am,” Mickey’s eyes were full of curiosity. He thought it was so cool his instructor was the highest officer rank for the Navy and married to the highest officer rank of the Air Force.
“About three years,” her face was full of pride, as was Mav’s. “And to answer your question from earlier; no, I hadn’t joined until after six years of being a civilian practitioner following my residency.” If they were to do the math, it would put Y/n at graduating from both high school, college, and med school one year early.
Oh she was smart smart.
One could guess by the John Hopkins and Duke University class rings on her fingers.
“I gotta ask,” Mickey looked between the two, grin already forming. “Do you ever have rivalry?”
“You mean because of Air Force vs Navy?” Y/n laughed. “Of course we do. Especially during college football season.” Pete laughed with her.
“You’re outnumbered here, darling.”
She playfully scoffed, “It’s only fair since you were back in Lompoc.” Turning to the pilots who were holding back smiles she added, “fifteen years and things don’t seem to change. I hope,” she motions a hand between them, “we can find some civility. All things considered.” Of course it was a joke, the branch rivalry and all that. But Y/n loved a good friendly bicker and the squad seemed to also.
“Just don’t wear your Blues around here,” Javy started, “unless you wanna be called a flight attendant.” The entire room erupted in laughter, Y/n pointing a finger as if to say, ‘Good one.’ She hated how the Air Force Dress Blues looked. It was the running joke between the branches and she couldn’t blame it.
Every time she had to wear them when flying she was stopped by people asking where to find their gate.
Hangman let out a whistle after they all calmed down. “When I woke up this morning I didn’t expect It end with meeting Mrs. Mitchell?” The couple shared a look, a smile on Y/n’s face.
“I prefer Doctor Mitchell.”
Pete went into detail of how the two met—which had Nat snapping her head to Y/n only to receive a wink.
No wonder she mentioned chest injuries as a theme when dealing with pilots.
It was a stellar retelling of how the man decided to defy yet another Admiral resulting in him ejecting from a high speed plane over a mountain range. Y/n had recently commissioned and was sent to Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, but was TDY to Oceana Naval Base for a seminar. Seeing she was the most qualified and only personnel available at the time, she was to conduct Pete’s medical examination.
“So,” she mused at the name on the clipboard, not bothering to pay him a glance as he sat on the bed. “You’re the infamous Pete Mitchell everyone has been buzzing about.” Beelining to the computer, Y/n heard a deep chuckle.
“Guilty.”
The response led to a roll of the eyes, focusing on the screen in front of her, “Are you experiencing any nausea, dizziness, lightness of the head?”
“No.”
“Ringing in the ears, distortion of the eyesight, or pain in any area?”
“No, ma’am.”
The clicking of the mouse rang with each check off the electronic list, “It says you made physical contact with the ground when you landed. Are you feeling any discomfort in your chest or abdomen?”
Pete shook his head despite her not looking at him, “just a little soreness and a bruised ego. But other than that I’m good.” Biting back a grin, Y/n grabbed the stethoscope and began to turn.
“Well we can't be too careful now can we?” Upon settling her gaze on Pete Mitchell, Y/n felt an instant ‘Woah’ to her otherwise relaxed composure. Freezing for a bare second as their eyes locked before remembering where she was, stepping to his side to begin her evaluation.
Only her heart was beating a little faster than the average rate.
The nurse had already taken Pete’s vitals. Blood pressure, temperature, and all that. Now it was time for Y/n to conduct a more thorough scan.
“Deep breath for me, please,” were her instructions, the scope on his back, “And tell me if you feel any pain.”
Pete, hoping the skip in his own heart goes unnoticed by the doctor, does as he’s told. A slight wince causes her brows to raise in concern, “Commander?”
He clears his throat, “Yes, sorry. I feel a little tense.” She steps away from him, asking to point out the area. She places the scope lightly where he locates the discomfort.
“Deep breath, slow this time,” leaning in, Y/n pays close attention to the sound thumping against her ears. “Inhale.” Pete draws in a breath. “And exhale,” he winces again. Removing the stethoscope, the Captain instructed him to lean back until he was laying down.
“Would you mind unzipping your flight suit, Commander Mitchell?” Pete was left in his undershirt, suit unzipped to his hips allowing Y/n to lift the material to assess his chest. She was trying not to look flustered at her obvious attraction to the man. He had to have been nearly ten years older than her, probably in his 40s to her mid thirties.
Still, he was quite the looker. And without a ring on his finger.
The light purplish-yellow swelling on Pete’s torso was an indication he sustained more than just a damaged ego. “By my accounts, Commander, it appears you have acquired at least one if not two bruised ribs,” she lifts his shirt back down, helping him sit up, “I’m impressed you’ve managed to hide the pain you’re experiencing.”
Pete flushed, “I’m used to it. Feels no more than a tickle nowadays.” Y/n snickers, returning to the computer to log the report, “Well you certainly live up to your reputation.”
“I try to,” Pete winked, sending a ripple of warmth through Y/n. Quickly she shook it off to remain professional.
“I’m putting you on bed rest for at least three weeks. Considering this isn’t your first rodeo, I assume you know it takes three to six weeks for bruised ribs to heal completely before going about any physical activities.” Taking a pad to write down his prescription, Y/n continued, “over the counter ibuprofen works fine, but I’m gonna go ahead and prescribe you with Naproxen which is basically Aleve. Cold compress for ten to twenty minutes each day and I would recommend you coming back to the physician on duty for a green light before getting back in the box, Commander.”
Pete makes a face, tilting his head slightly, “You won’t be giving me the green light,” eyes flicker to the ranks on her collar, realizing they were indeed Air Force and not Navy ranks, “Captain?”
His question has her smile, albeit sadly, “Unfortunately I will be back at Langley, Commander. I only assessed you because everyone else on duty was occupied.”
Well that instantly had Mav deflate, stomach sinking at the thought of not being able to see her beautiful face again. Already the pilot was becoming smitten. He wanted to learn more about Y/n, like her career and the things that make her laugh and smile. The type of food she ordered and what she envisioned her life would be like.
“How long are you in town?” He couldn’t help but ask. It made her lips curl up.
“Till Sunday.” It happened to be Wednesday. Allowing the two half of week to allow the sparks starting to form to ignite into fireworks.
One can best believe Mav and Y/n took the opportunity once it was in their grasp. It started with lunch on Thursday to dinner on Friday and a late night drink at the bar on Saturday. By Sunday Y/n left with a light heaviness to her chest that was amended with the fact Pete’s number was in her phone and they had made plans to meet again. Langley and Oceania were not far in distance, so there was hope for the two.
And it was very well received.
The next five years were endless bliss. They had done the distance back and forth for some time and were lucky when they got duty stations near each other, but it wouldn’t be until they married that the Air Force and Navy would station them together or within the same state.
With Y/n as a licensed physician she could be sent to any base, be that Air Force, Navy, or Army. Working through the ranks at an impressive rate. Every base wanted her at their clinic then of course local hospitals were fighting to get her on their board. Then there was Mav as the Navy’s best fighter pilot with a reputation they both loath and admire. Sometimes they were at a base for six months to a year. Other times they didn’t even unpack the boxes.
Let’s just say….Pete lost count of the amount of disapproving looks when he fucked up.
“Seriously, Pete? Again?” Her eyes remained on the paperwork in front of her, arms crossed across her chest while her boyfriend pouted on the opposite side of the table. “We haven’t even been here for a year.”
“I know, but……” he paused, unsure if he would make it worse with his defense. “You did say you hated it here and wish to be reassigned.” He was met with a groan.
“That didn’t mean I gave you the green light to piss off your boss! Again!”
On their five year anniversary, Mav made sure it was one to remember. Following a long day at work all he said to Y/n was to change and met him in the car. Overlooking his typical Levis and white tee, she asked, “Any particular way I should dress?”
“Cute and cozy,” he kissed her cheek, “just like you love.”
Say less. Throwing off her Abu’s Y/n put on a sweater dress since it was chilly and simple shoes. Finishing off the look with one of Pete’s bomber jackets knowing he loved when she wore them. Evident by the smirk on his lips.
Driving down to their fav outdoor bar and grill they ordered appetizers and drinks while enjoying the live music and setting sun. Afterwards he took her to one of their favorite spots in the park. It was filled with lights and fountains, stars twirling from the sky above.
When it came time to present Y/n with the ring, Mav took her hands in his, got down on one knee and relayed a speech straight from his heart that brought tears to both their eyes.
“What do you say, Mrs. Mitchell?” He ended with a cheeky smile, the diamond ring sparkling from within its velvet boxed.
Teary eyed and grinning from ear to ear, Y/n leaned down to kiss him on the lips. “I prefer Doctor Mitchell.”
………………
Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris
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Gaston taking everything as a challenge considering he’s said something as ridiculous as “No one orders decaf like Gaston!”
It soon devolves into “No one cares for Yuu like Gaston!”
“No one protects Yuu like Gaston!” *Punches Mortimer*
“No one spoils Yuu like Gaston” *Blows his life savings on buying things for Yuu*
And then Ashton Vargas and Gaston get competitive on who’s the better father figure for Yuu, and everyone is just so tired of these macho meatheads
I love Coach Vargas. He's such a sweet guy and such an overprotective uncle for Yuu.
He and Hercules are like those himbo bros that are like:
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When the staff (except Trein because he doesn't really seem like the type to me) come to the club it's like this:
Crewel: Sitting with Cruella as they talk about fashion and do whatever rich stylish people do as he keeps a keen eye on Yuu. He's rather friendly with Roger and Anita as well. He probably brings his own dalmations which hang around with Pongo and Perdita's lot and he loves to dote on all of the 101 Dalmation dogs.
Sam: his friends from the other side know Dr Facilier's friends from the other side. His shadow and the shadowman's shadow are practically BFFs that love to make mischief, cause trouble for their humans and chase Peter Pan's shadow. He's very chill with his OG counterpart and the two discuss their voodoo, hoodoo and the things they've never even tried.
Vargas: CHAOS, CHAOS, CHAOS! Who let these two gym bros get within ten feet of each other. Five seconds after meeting their engaged in the most dramatically serious/tense arm wrestle of the century. Behind them, Hercules and Luisa Madrigal are hyping them up as a crowd forms and cheers. Abu is seen stealing from the betting pools that are forming as the staff try to get everyone to calm down. The two then try get Yuu to get to eat four dozen eggs every morning to help her get large.
Gaston's a meathead but he's an alright meathead in this AU. I guess that part of the reason that he likes Yuu is because she lets him talk about himself (which he loves to do - but so do most villains). She's always impressed when he shows off, like when he plays with darts (but he has to be refrained from 'expectorating' by the other villains who really don't want to see any of that).
He also thought that it was a good idea to proudly give her a rifle that was then immediately confiscated by Minnie.
(Gaston: But Mulan gave her a sword!
Mickey: Do I look like the type of mouse who would tell Mulan what she can or can't give?)
Lefou is cool to hang around with. He's like Kronk and Smee where he's a good guy that does evil things because they genuinely care about the villain and aren't villains themselves.
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tymime · 27 days
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Public Domain cartoon characters from the Golden Age of Animation (and beyond)
Revised and expanded version of this post: https://tymime.tumblr.com/post/648495121557585920/instead-of-whining-about-mickey-mouse-not-falling
While Mickey entering the public domain is exciting and all, I do think a lot of people are overlooking the many other animated characters that are available to use in their creative works. This list isn't entirely exhaustive, but it does highlight some of the most interesting and/or appealing characters, as well as ones that have the potential to be so.
Koko the Clown
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One of the oldest cartoon stars from the Fleischer studio, almost all of Koko's silent-era cartoons are PD, and have been for quite some time. A handful of his appearances alongside Betty Boop are also PD.
Oswald the Lucky Rabbit
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Oswald's PD status has been greatly overshadowed by his fellow Disney star Mickey, but I believe that he deserves more recognition. All of the shorts produced by the Disney studio are PD as of this year, and let's face it, those are the only ones most people care about. Pegleg Pete's bear design is also PD.
Keep in mind that the blue shorts that Oswald wears in Epic Mickey and elsewhere are likely copyrighted, so I recommend steering clear of that.
I'm also not entirely sure you can use the name "Ortensia" for his cat girlfriend, since that name first appeared in Epic Mickey also. She was called "Kitty" back in the day, among other things.
All of Van Beuren Studio's cartoons
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The Van Beuren Studio was active during the rubberhose era, and their cartoons, especially the earlier ones, are like a cruder, possibly even more bizarre cousin to Fleischer and Disney. They went bust in the late 1930s, and no one renewed the copyright later on, so the entirety of their output is PD.
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Their most notable characters include Tom and Jerry, a pair of average Joes who always get into strange adventures. They shouldn't be confused with MGM's Tom and Jerry, and in fact they were called Dick and Larry when their shorts were rereleased for the home-movie market in the 1940s.
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Also notable is Waffles and Don, who are basically just animal versions of Tom and Jerry. You might consider these two as a better alternative, just to avoid confusion.
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There's also Cubby Bear, a pretty blatant Mickey Mouse clone, but unique enough that I don't think anybody’s going to confuse the two nowadays.
In the previous post, I mentioned a rumor that Disney threatened legal action over the character, but I can't find the source for that now. I may have been thinking of Milton Mouse, who was so extremely similar to Mickey that they actually did sue the studo for copyright infringement. So maybe don't try selling any Milton merchandise...
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Finally, there's Molly Moo-Cow, who appeared in several Rainbow Parade cartoons in the mid-to-late 1930s. Molly is arguably not the most interesting character, but I have a fondness for her since we grew up with one of her shorts on a VHS tape.
Toby the Pup
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Another very obscure character, about half of his cartoons are lost media. The little that does survive is hard to find online, but I think his design has appeal.
Dr. XXX
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Disney's The Mad Doctor was never renewed for reasons unknown, though some speculate that the studio thought that the cartoon was too scary and decided to let it go. Fortunately for us, that means that this iconic character is now in the people's hands.
Goopy Geer
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Goopy appeared in the three Merrie Melodies cartoons alongside his unnamed girlfriend. Despite his name and appearance being similar to Disney's Goofy, he actually made his debut about a month before (Goofy was named Dippy Dawg at the time anyway, so it was undoubtedly a coincidence).
Claude Hopper
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Claude appeared in a single Looney Tunes cartoon in 1943 called Hop and Go, alongside a pair of Scottish rabbits who antagonize him. The cartoon ends with a very unfortunate depiction of Tokyo being blown up (World War II was still going on at the time), so it's no surprise that Warner Bros. decided not to renew this one. Despite that, he has a very appealing design (imo), so I think he has potential. (Also, he's voiced by Pinto Colvig, the original voice of Goofy!)
Private Snafu and Mr. Hook
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Snafu and Hook were created for the US government, so according to the law are automatically public domain. The shorts were made to be shown to members of the US army and navy respectively, in order to teach them valuable lessons for fighting in WWII, but are nevertheless hilarious cartoons- animated by the Looney Tunes team with scripts by Ted Geisel- aka Dr. Seuss!
The Dover Boys
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Also of note are the ComiColor cartoons from the Iwerks studio, Rainbow Parade from Van Beuren, and most of the Color Classics by Fleischer. These don't have any especially memorable characters in them, but I thought I ought to mention them.
Yes, Tom, Dick and Larry, Dora Standpipe and the villainous Dan Backslide are all public domain. A bunch of YouTube Poops were created after this fact was discovered by the internet a few years ago.
How Warner Bros. could ever let this one get away I'll never know. Their loss is our gain, I suppose.
Caveats and other concerns
Krazy Kat
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Felix the Cat
All of the strips up to 1928 are definitely fair game. According to the Public Domain Superheroes wiki however, the entirety of the strip's run is PD. I'm not sure if it that's true, but the Fantagraphics collections don't credit any newspaper syndicate, so it seems likely. (Apparently the copyright status of newspaper comics are a whole can of worms on its own...)
At any rate, the strip's cast was pretty well set in stone by 1928, so it shouldn't be much of a problem. A large number of animated shorts starring Krazy are also PD, but those were pretty much in name only.
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Flip the Frog
Felix was pretty much the first cartoon superstar, and almost all of his Golden Age appearances are PD now. Keep in mind that this does not include elements from the 1950s cartoon like his magic bag, or from The Twisted Tales of Felix, as amazing as that series is.
The character's name and appeance are still trademarked by NBC Universal however, so you might be able to use him in a minor role, but not much else.
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I'm uncertain about this one. According to most sources Flip is PD, but according to the Thunderbean Blu-ray collection he's copyrighted by the Film Preservation Archives, whatever that means. Additionally, Flip himself is supposedly trademarked by Leslie Iwerks, Ub Iwerks’ granddaughter, though no one seems to be able to confirm that. I don't know how the trademark hasn't lapsed yet, considering that Flip hasn't appeared on any official merchandise or anything in decades.
Bosko and Honey
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I believe there's nothing stopping anyone from using Bosko's classic design (later appearances at MGM and in Tiny Toons are still copyrighted), but the character himself is a bit problematic, considering that it's all but stated outright that he's a blackface caricature. Use with caution.
Foxy and Roxy
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Noveltoons
Like Goopy Geer, Foxy appeared in three Merrie Melodies cartoons. Roxy's name originates from an episode of Tiny Toon Adventures however, so keep that in mind. Though I'm not sure what else you would call her (or if Warner Bros. would even care). Supposedly her original name was "Fluffy", but I can't find a source for this.
Like Bosko and Honey, later appearances in Tiny Toons are still copyrighted.
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Noveltoons was a series produced by Famous Studios, the successor to the Fleischer studio. The characters include Baby Huey, Herman the mouse, Blackie the sheep, Little Audrey, and of course, Casper the Friendly Ghost. Only a small handful of the shorts are PD though, and Casper is trademarked, so one's options are limited.
Ginger Nutt (and rest of the Animaland cast)
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Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964)
This one I'm not entirely sure about either, but Ginger Nutt's Christmas Circus has long been a staple of grey-market tapes and DVDs, so I'm just going to assume all of the Animaland cartoons are also PD. Considering that the series wasn't very sucessful, and is very obscure nowadays, it seems pretty likely.
If anyone has any insight on this, let me know.
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Calvin and the Colonel
Now here's an interesting case. An all-time classic Christmas special, and yet large parts of it are PD because they accidentally put the wrong date on the copyright notice. Instead of the Roman numerals MCMLXIV (1964), it reads MCLXIV (1164), and according to the law at the time, that meant that the film immediately went into public domain.
Of course, Rudolph himself is still copyrighted, and will be until 2035 when the original book falls into the public domain. Even then he's likely to still be trademarked. Not to mention the songs featured in the '64 film will be copyrighted for a long time afterward.
Still, this means that anyone is free to use all the other characters, including Hermey, Yukon Cornelius, King Moonracer, Clarice, and all the Misfit Toys. It's a wonder no one seems to have taken advantage of this. And of course Santa and his reindeer have been PD for ages, especially Santa since he comes from folklore- and you can't copyright folklore.
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This cartoon is based on and stars a lot of the same voice cast as the old-time radio show Amos and Andy, which, while not overtly racist, featured white actors pretending to be black. The cartoon obviously has animals instead, but still, tread carefully. Someone is bound to point out the characters' history.
Hoppity Hooper
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Another one I'm not sure about. The Public Domain Superheroes wiki has characters from this show among its articles, but I wasn't able to confirm if it really was PD. It was created by Jay Ward, the same studio who made Rocky & Bullwinkle and George of the Jungle, but was also a huge flop for some reason, so that may be the reason why they let the copyright expire. Again, I'm not sure, but no one seems to care that the entire series is on YouTube, so who knows?
...Well, there you have it. Lots of obscure and forgotten toons waiting to be rediscovered and reused! If anyone has any more info or corrections, leave me a comment. I'd love some clarification on some of these.
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em-harlsnow · 1 day
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i firmly believe there’s a time when Mickey goes back to school. probably around season 3, because the courts tell him a condition of his release and probation is to go back to school. he barely turns up, only enough so his PO isn’t on his ass.
obviously, he doesn’t want to be there. so one day he’s sort of sitting in the back of some class - something like english that he doesn’t care about at all - and just goes to sleep because it’s boring. the teacher comes over, tells him off, and he just does something like flips her off and rolls his eyes, to which he obviously gets detention.
he usually wouldn’t go to detention, but he thinks he may as well because he doesn’t rlly wanna go home.
now, ian also gets detention that day, which is unusual for him. maybe he had a very public argument with Lip, calling him some names and a teacher who really hates swearing threw him in detention.
when ian walks in, mickey’s already there, leaning back on his chair. he almost falls off when he sees ian. ian will smirk and sit on the seat in front of him, not next to him. and because mickey is like a three year old with a crush half the time, he spends his time kicking the back of ian’s chair.
there’s another boy in detention, i imagine it to be a sort of American-jock type. all arrogance and self importance. he goes up to mickey and acts like their friends or some shit just because mickey dealt at a few of his parties.
“hey bro, how’ve you been?”
now mickey doesn’t really remember him, so he just sort of scowls.
“….good”
“that’s so good, bro, so, do you have anything on you i could buy?”
mickey doesn’t, actually, because he doesn’t make a habit of bringing copious amounts of drugs into a place where he could easily get caught.
“nah.”
and then it’s over and Chad or whatever goes back to his own seat. it’s then that he sees ian, and chad has some homophobic bullshit built up in his head. also, mickey’s there and he sort of wants to impress the bad boy drug dealer who won’t give him the time of day. at this point, mandy and lip are banging, so a lot of people know ian’s gay.
he goes up to ian, assuming while mickey kicks his chair and laughs when ian turns around pissed off it’s because of the same stuff he has in mind.
he calls ian something homophobic, and ian just rolls his eyes and tells him to fuck off. Chad gets mad at the indifference and slams a hand down on the desk.
“you wanna fuckin’ quit it with that?” mickey pipes up from his seat.
“you don’t got a problem with the gays, mick?” chad says and mickey instantly looks a little lost.
ian sighs and says shit like “just fuck off, Chad, I don’t have time for your bullshit.” because he doesn’t really need or expect mickey to fight his battles for him.
chad gets mad at ian again but he’s a pussy, so doesn’t outright attack him. just slams his hand down a few more times, starts yellling. ian just can’t be bothered to give a shit, is more annoyed he got in detention in the first place.
mickey stands up, because chads getting annoyed at ian’s lack of reaction and gets in chad’s face.
he says some excuse like ‘he’s friends with my sister’ but at the end of the day he shoves chad back and away.
chad tries to make some stupid joke, like ‘we were just playing’ and mickey’s having none of it.
“go sit your ass down over there you fucking pussy and leave him alone” and chad walks away with his tail between his legs.
ian sort of beams, sort of grumbles at mickey. like he smiles, but also mutters to him that he can fight his own battles, but thanks.
mickey just shrugs even though he’s blushing a bit because that sort of shows he cares, doesn’t it? but then he goes back to kicking ian’s chair and ian goes back to getting annoyed while he tries to do some homework.
they leave together and chad leaves thoroughly dejected. they go to the dugouts and ian keeps grinning at mickey and mickey keeps rolling his eyes at him and its just a bit sweet.
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I never understood why people hate on Amber and Richie's motive when it's far from the worst in the franchise, in my opinion. So here's a little rant of my opinions on all Ghostface motives. Billy Loomis: his motive literally makes no sense to me but because he's one of the original Ghostfaces, everyone puts him on a pedestal. He kills Maureen because she's sleeping with his father, Hank, causing his mother, Nancy, to leave them. Makes sense, he could have stopped there. Instead he targets Sidney for literally nothing. Just simply because she's the daughter of the woman who broke up his family. It would have made more sense to go after Sidney while Maureen was still alive to make her suffer before killing her. Therefore, making his motive one of the dumbest in the franchise for me.
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Stu Macher: his motive is simple yet affective; he has none, or at least as far as we know. Most real life murderers probably don't have much of a motive either so while it's realistic it's not exactly the most creative motive but really, how creative can you really get? There's only so many reasons to want to kill someone especially when the main target is the same unproblematic person just trying to live her life in peace.
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Mickey Altieri: I love Mickey but he has one of the dumbest motives in the franchise and no one says shit. He literally just wants to get caught and blame the movies. Nancy did the right thing shooting him.
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Nancy Loomis: one of the better motives, as Nancy herself says, good old fashion revenge. It's the first time in the franchise that the motive is revenge (no, I don't count Billy's motive as revenge. Maybe when it came to Maureen but not Sidney) so it's a fresh motive in these movies.
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Roman Bridger: another motive I particularly like. I think of his motive less revenge and more resentment. No motive is good enough to kill but his is one of the ones where you could understand how someone who's mentally unstable could snap. Being abandoned by your mother just for her to have another child she loves and cares for and then turns you away once you try to reunite with her? I'd be upset too. I mean...not enough to kill but you get my point.
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Charlie Walker: another dumb motive that no one talks about. As a matter of fact, does he even have one? We know he's a "Stab" fanatic and a simp for Jill so what I get from this is he was easy to persuade because he was already a fan of the movies and a horny teenage boy. I don't think he could've given a fuck less if he got famous from it.
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Jill Roberts: her motive is one of the best and aged like fine wine. In the world we live in today, some people would quite literally kill to be famous. I know some people have complaints about it but it's really not that farfetched, people are mad crazy these days and kill for the stupidest reasons.
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Amber Freeman: like Charlie, I don't know if we really get a motive for Amber. Richie seems so much more passionate about the "Stab" movies and their killing spree becoming a movie then she does (he literally doesn't shut up about it and barely lets Amber give her motive or intentions.) What I got from watching the movie was that Amber was a fan of horror movies in general (she very clearly likes "Psycho," "Halloween" and "Friday The 13th") but she claims she's been obsessed ever since her parents bought Stu Macher's house, where the first murder spree took place, implying she didn't care as much before moving in. She also says her and Richie had similar ideas, not the same. I think her motive was more like Stu's and was to just kill for the fun of it. If her and Richie's motives were in fact the same, it's still a decent motive and original compared to the Ghostfaces before. If her motive was similar to Stu's, it's still a decent motive just unoriginal.
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Richie Kirsch: his motive is a lot more crystal clear than Amber's. As I already mentioned above, he doesn't shut up about it. He hated the recent "Stab" movie and thought creating a new killing spree would provide new source material to make a better movie than the last. Considering how upset people in the "Scream" fandom got about this movie (and how other fandoms get with their respective franchises) just proves that his motive isn't that dumb. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if something like this happened in real life, especially when you take into consideration that these movies inspired real life murders already.
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Jason Carvey: his motive wasn't great but it wasn't terrible. He was just another fanatic (which is repetitive of the last movie) wanting to continue "Richie's film" (fuck Amber, I guess...I hate how this movie down played her when she carried Richie) but since he was an opening kill, his motive probably wasn't meant to be all that great. Had he gotten further with his plan though, I wouldn't have hated it. PS: if you were expecting a Greg Bruckner paragraph, sorry but his bitch ass was killed before the plan was meant to be put into motion so therefore, he wasn't officially a Ghostface in my eyes. His motive would have been the same as Jason's anyway, as far as we know.
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Wayne Bailey, Ethan Landry and Quinn Bailey: I'm going to include them all in one paragraph since their motives are all the same: good old fashion revenge. As Richie's father, brother and sister their only goal was to seek revenge on anyone who was involved in Richie's death. Nothing suggests that any of them had any additional motives. The motive itself is fine, I literally mentioned it was one of the better ones in my Nancy paragraph. The only problem I have with it is now it's become repetitive and unoriginal. It's basically just a knockoff of "Scream 2" with an extra killer. From my point of view, it's the only movie that straight up reuses a motive. To summarize: pansy ass mama's boy who's sad she abandoned him, psycho who was peer pressured, psycho who wants to get caught and taken to trial, mother seeking revenge, son who was abandoned by his mother and has resentment against his sister, simp horror fan, psycho who wants fame, horror fans who want a better installment in their favorite franchise, horror fans who want to continue the last Ghostfaces plans for a better installment in their favorite franchise and a family seeking revenge; notice how only one of these are almost exactly the same to another. (I guess Billy and Roman's could be categized as similar, being abandoned by their mothers, but they're different enough for me and Roman's motive was better and made more sense. Amber and Richie have the same or at least similar motive but because their partners in the same movie I'll allow it. Jason and Gregg's motive was meant to continue what Amber and Richie sought out to do but they were opening kills so their motive was kind of a throwaway and irrelevant anyway.)
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