#mike andrews

[ridiculouslyaverageguy]

During the production of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!, Mystery Inc. was envisioned as five humans and a dog. But the final guy, described as a rich, snooty hipster (seemingly based on Milton from Dobie Gillis) was cut from the show. This is apparently due to Scooby gaining more prominence as the show was being made, to the point of being turned into the protagonist.

The above images come from Van Partible, the creator of Johnny Bravo. They are two of several, physical drawings that he got his hands on while working at Hanna Barbera.

This character was likely Mike Andrews mentioned in the initial pitch. (Geoff, Kelly, Linda, and W.W. are Fred, Daphne, Velma, and Shaggy respectively)

[bethsvrse]

“Their eyes locked from across the room”

[a-h-87769877]

"I find natural sound, or sound produced from non-electronic sources, to be so rich and so interesting. And yet, the interesting thing about electronic sound is that it's very easy to manipulate."

"The synthesizer seems, to me, to present you with a position where you could turn natural sound into electronic sound and use some of the freedoms that the synthesizer then allowed you."

"Instead of just using the synthesizer, I use the whole studio as an appendage to the instrument in that way."

[asoftepiloguemylove]

WHY ARE YOU HAUNTED? // ON HAUNTED HOUSES

Frederick Kiesler Inside the Endless House // The Haunting of Hill House (2018) cr. Mike Flanagan // Lisa Robertson Magenta Soul Whip // Joan Tierney Why Are You Haunted? // V.C. Andrews // Heather Havrileskyb Haunted Womanhood // Shirley Jackson The Haunting of Hill House // The Haunting of Hill House cr. Mike Flanagan // Tracy K. Smith Ash // Anatomy (2016) cr. Kitty Horrorshow

[fromtherazort0therosary]

if god didn't want me to have sinful thoughts then why did he make submisive pathetic looking men

[nonbinary-bitch]

Male survivors eyes

I didn't plan the layout when I made this

[boyfasciitis]

i dont have a caption just enjoy my woke agendaTM thankyou

[funkynumaki]

Identity V fingering headcanon (PT.1 (?))

Characters included; Luca Balsa, Andrew Kreiss, Mike Morton, Victor Grantz

A/N: this is my first post + my first time writing smut so I apologize if it's not the best!

Warning: fingering (g), praise (r, g), dacryphilia on Andrew and Victor's!, dom!reader x sub!characters

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|| Luca Balsa

- when you first brought it up he'd be surprise, but he's thrilled to try it out.

- the first time, he'd fidget a lot trying to get used to the feeling of your fingers inside him but when he's comfortable enough he's really into it.

- he wouldn't even hide his noises, it really shows how much he enjoys it.

- "are you sure you're okay with this?" You ask, still a bit uncertain. Giving him a chance to back down if he's uncomfortable with it. But, instead Luca nod looking at your lube covered fingers as it line itself on his hole. ".. Yeah.. Go on" He said, already out of breath. You nod at his approval, your finger find themselves sliding inside his hole. You could almost immediately feel him clench around you as his grip tightened. "F-fuck-..." He let out a small moan at the feeling trying to get used to it. He leaned his head to the crook of your neck, his dick throb at the sensation of being filled by your fingers. "Did it hurt?" You ask, willingly to stop if the pain is unbearable for him. Your fingers stopping their movement inside him. "Yeah.. A bit.. Don't stop. Please.." He whine when he feel your movement stopping inside him which followed by your smile of relief that you didn't hurt him. Your fingers pick up its pace again with each passing second he grow more and more comfortable with having your fingers inside of him. Starting to let out louder breathy moan as he lean in to get more contact with you.

"O-ohh fuck-! Please.. S'fuckin-good-..!"

|| Andrew Kreiss

- would be very hesitant, so getting him comfortable enough to agree will need a trustful relationship.

- he's so sensitive, he has no experience with any intimate moment so it's best if you start slow with him.

- the first time he feel your finger inside him, he's already shaking from pleasure. Moaning and whimpering your name while at the same time trying to covered his mouth to prevent himself from making noise.

- "a-ahh... Ple-ase-.." He whine as your finger continues to thrust in and out of his hole. Your movement is still slow and gentle, as he hide his face on the crook of your neck. Trying to mask the noises that's about to fall from his lips. "Please what, love? I want to hear you say it.." You cooe in his ear, your tone can be heard as a need for him to just tell you his desire that he's been trying to mask. Andrew's dick twitch as he feel your finger slowly starting to thrust a bit faster. "I- need y-you.. Please... Ne-need you s'bad..!" He begged feeling you fasting up your movement. His head fall back as he let out a soft cry. "Does it make you feel good, love?" You smirk feeling him clench around your fingers not wanting to lose contact to it. "Use your words" You whisper in his ear, reminding him.

"Y-yes... Love it-love it s'much--! Please... I-i need it-"

|| Mike Morton

- he was actually the one who brought it up, mostly because he had been edging in his seat to ask you to try it with him since forever. Which of course, you agree.

- feeling your finger inside him, he'd let out a choked moan. He was expecting it to feel good, but not this good.

- would buck his hips to get more sensation of your finger inside him.

- "oh shit..-" Mike let out a choked moan as he throw his head back, your finger sliding in and out of his hole in a faster pace than before. "You enjoy this way more than I expect you to" You whisper in his ear, loving his reaction. Mike mosn loud as he lean in closer to you, his teeth sinking on your skin. His body shake from the pleasure. "S'good-! Fu.. Ck-! Please-please-!m-more-nh" He whine out, bucking his hips lower to get more friction from your finger, watching his desperate plead you chuckle. Mike lean in closer to you wrapping his hand around your shoulder as he nip your neck. His mind too clouded to form an actual sentence. You smile fasting up your pace, your finger brushing against his prostate "Beg more then, love" You cooe softly.

"Please-pl-ngh-ease.. -! Want you s'bad--! S'good-..!a-ahh--"

|| Victor Grantz

- he was surprised when you ask him to try it, but there's almost nothing Victor wouldn't do for you.

- he's eager to please you, so when you decide to change up a notch and please him he was taken a back, but he'll do it as long as it makes you happy.

- he wasn't expecting what he just feel being fingered by you, the way his mind starts to get numb. And how it felt so good he can't even registered it for a moment.

- "aww.. Look at how adorable you are like that, f'me?" You cooe, trailing kisses on Victor's neck to his collarbone. If it was possible, there would be small hearts flying on top of his head, he was at pure bliss. "S'good... I-ilove-yo-mu.. Ahh--! Ch!" He cries out, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as your finger thrust deeper. "Be a good boy for me and tell me how much I'm pleasing you, right now, why don't'cha?" You grin, nipping on his neck, leaving some love marks on his neck. His head thrown back, as he arch his back when your finger brush against his prostate. "S'good.. Please-- L-love.. You-so mu-angh--!" You chuckle at his attempt at forming a sentence. Teasing him even more you lean in closer to his ear. "What's that? I don't bear you the first time, love"

"Ple-ahh-! It's s'good.. -you're s'good--! I-loveyou.. so-mahh-uch...--!"

____________________________________

request are open!

[untitled-document-95]

cowboy, baby (dodge mason x reader)

Summary: Dodge has a record-setting night at the rodeo; he has no idea you're about to make it even better

Warnings: alcohol | pregnancy

Requested: only by my own brain

A/N: ok I guess I'm actually on a Mike Faist kick...also prepare for ALL the rodeo themed fics in August when my local rodeo happens 🤠

*gif is not mine*

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Tonight was a big night. The sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon, casting out an array of colors. Not that every rodeo wasn’t important to Dodge and by extension, you. Tonight was an even bigger one than normal, with competitors from across the state that Dodge was determined to prove himself against. His event wouldn’t be for another hour, so he was waiting nervously on the ground, trying to lend a helping hand wherever he could.

Dodge looked up and saw you leaning against the railing in the VIP section above the chutes. The various hues of the sky gave the illusion of you being the subject of a watercolor painting. Your white shirt had a blue floral design, and he couldn’t help but admire the way your white shorts clung to your curves. You finally looked over and caught his eye, giving him a shy, sweet wave. He noticed you’d been more subdued the past few days, but he knew he had been too, just nervous and excited about tonight’s rodeo. 

You blew him a kiss as one of the girls nearby signaled to you, extending an invitation to walk to the bar with them. Tromping through the gravel, the other wives and girlfriends of the rodeo contestants for the evening joked and teased one another playfully. You walked off to the side of the group, a social position you were all too familiar with. You were there, sure, but ten years from now when the stories of these nights are repeated and reminisced on, it’s unlikely anyone will remember your presence. 

Your brain was too full to join in on the conversation at the moment anyway. Anxiously, you twisted your ring. You’d never been one for jewelry, but when the most handsome cowboy in the world presents you with a gold band adorned with a small but brilliant diamond in the center, what more is there to say? As of right now, there were no plans. No white dress in the closet, no church booked, no cakes tasted. Just a simple request: that you love him forever. You didn’t need a ring or anything else in order to do that. You’d known you were going to do that anyway from the very start.  

At the beer stand, one of the more boisterous girls calls out to each person to ask for their preference. When she reaches you, you hold up your bottle of water and smile as a way of saying, “Thanks, but I’m good.” Not that you didn’t want a beer. Boy, did you. Anything to calm your nerves. The neon green wristband you wore was verification to any of the stand workers that you’d been verified as being of legal drinking age, so that wasn’t an issue. You were the only one in the world who was privy to the knowledge that was sitting so heavily on your mind and heart.

You were pregnant. 

---

One Week Prior

You’d never been…regular, you know? “Nothing to worry about,” you’d always been told. “Might have a little trouble conceiving someday, but we’ll cross that bridge when you’re ready,” your doctor had said. Dodge knew this, which was why neither of you’d had a problem forgoing protection now and again. 

It also wasn’t uncommon for you to be nauseous. Hot girls have tummy issues, right? That’s why you didn’t think anything of it when you’d spent two days in a row with barely an appetite, feeling off. Until you’d been at work a few days ago and swore you could smell the fish a co-worker was reheating in the break room from a mile away.

“Oh, I remember when I was pregnant with my youngest, I could smell every little thing for a couple months. Made life miserable!” a different co-worker laughed. An innocent joke, but it got you thinking. That afternoon, you stopped by the drug store on your way home. Desperate, you tore the box open as soon as you got home. To your dismay, the directions specifically stated that test results would be most accurate if taken first thing in the morning. You buried the box in your bag, away from Dodge’s eyes. That night, thoughts raced through your mind at a pace that made it impossible to do or think about much else. 

What should have been the easiest thing was by far the most difficult emotion to decipher. If the test came back positive, would you be happy? Would Dodge? And if it came back negative, would you be sad? Was it possible for both mindsets to coexist? 

Though it caused you great discomfort, you skipped your morning bathroom visit and held it until you arrived at work. Locked safely away from the world, you followed the test directions, setting a timer for the requisite three-minute waiting period. Face buried in your hands, heart pounding, you wait. 

Your phone begins vibrating in your lap. You lift your head to read your results. After a moment of contemplation, you carefully place the test back in its wrapper, then back inside its box. Tucking it in your bag once more, you exit the bathroom. Such a simple act, yet it felt too much like leaving behind one life and entering a whole new one. 

One thing that had been certain, even before you’d taken the test, was that you couldn’t tell Dodge yet. He had been so nervous and worked so hard for this particular rodeo. You’d never forgive yourself if you distracted him with such life-altering news. This decision was affirmed when Dodge met his goal and then some under the starry Texas sky. It may not be the life of most people’s dreams: dirt and sweat, animal odor faintly in the air. Some people only have to hear the word “rodeo” and wrinkle their noses. But to you, there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be. 

After the night’s events were over and his tasks complete, Dodge found you just behind the bleachers. You extended your arms, thrilled about his victory. His huge grin lit up his face, a far cry from his usual half-smirk. He wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning you around with so much joy. As soon as he’d set your feet safely on the ground, he kissed you. This, too, was something else you’d never trade for all the mansions and luxuries in the world. 

“C’mon, angel. Let’s go celebrate,” he rasped in your ear. 

—

The name of the game became attempted casualness. You listened as he recapped the night from his point of view the entire time you had your late dinner, and even the whole ride home. Now that you were past the only restriction you’d given yourself, it was clear the logical next step was to tell him. But how? You hadn’t thought that far ahead. At home, he’d pecked your cheek and headed off to take a shower. You changed clothes and laid down, exhausted just from the mental load of the past 6 hours. Twenty minutes later, Dodge climbed into bed next to you with damp hair and red skin from the hot water. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, burying his face in your neck.

“Mm. Thank you for being there tonight. Makes me a lot braver when I see your beautiful face in the stands,” he mumbles into you. You turn to face him, placing a hand on his cheek.

“I’ll always be there for you, Andrew Mason.” Your use of his legal name makes him blush and release a sigh of contentment.

“I cannot wait to marry you,” he says. Your heart leaps. 

“You know…” you begin. “We haven’t talked much about…the other stuff that comes with marriage.” He continues smiling, but gives you a puzzled look. 

“Other stuff?” he asks.

“You know, kids, pets, stuff like that,” you respond. 

“Ah, kids!” He says in a spirited tone. Oh, this lovely, funny side of Dodge that only you are ever given the privilege of seeing. “What are you thinking? Just a basketball team’s worth or go all the way for a baseball team?” You laugh in spite of yourself. 

“Seriously!? We are not having 5 kids, much less 9!” you shriek. 

“What?” Dodge says with false incredulity. “Says who?” he jokes. 

“Says the person whose body has to carry and birth these children!”

“To which I again say, says who? We could always adopt a few!” You both chuckle at his lame and unintended rhyme. You both laugh for a moment more, but you allow the laughter to die down into calmer breathing before speaking again. 

“I mean,” you broach carefully. “I’d like to have at least one of our own. A little…you and me all wrapped into one.” The whispered words almost choke you up, only because you are too aware of how close of a reality it is. Dodge looks at you lovingly. 

“I can’t wait, angel.” 

Despite every part of your brain screaming at you, you find the words you need to say. 

“What if you didn’t have to?” you whisper. Dodge’s face slowly changes from lovestruck idiot to dumbfounded.

“What do you mean?” he asks carefully. You stare. He says your name in a scared, questioning tone. 

“I’m pregnant,” you say, voice barely audible. You give him a small smile, despite the fear of his reaction. Dodge sits up, gently pulling his arms away, but never taking his eyes off of you. 

“Are you serious?” he asks. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you assure him that yes, you are pregnant. He continues to stare. You’re beginning to feel shame, fear, and other awful feelings until finally, his lips crash into yours once more. When he pulls away, one hand cups your cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth mindlessly. His face remains close to yours, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, which causes you to tear up as well.

“You’re not mad?” you ask. 

“Mad? I have never been happier in my entire life,” he gushes. “I didn’t think tonight could get any better. But…” he trails off so he can lean back a little and find your lower abdomen with his hand. Rubbing it gently and affectionately, he continues. “We’re having a baby, angel.”

“Yeah,” you nod, tears spilling down your smiling cheeks. “Yeah, we are."

[male-readerwriter]

Hey male reader writers.

Can we normalize not using female anatomy in male x Male Reader Smut fics, it's just a little weird that literally every single male reader smut I have ever read uses words like (pardon my language) "pussy" or "cunt" for the male reader or the male character, it's weird.

And it feels like it's being written for female readers instead of male readers, please can we change that.

-

EDIT: THIS POST ISN'T TALKING ABOUT FTM (I'm personally not ftm so I've never read ftm fics I'm specifically talking about amab) sorry for any confusion.

[bethsvrse]

I hate silent readers oh my gosh comment reblog tell me it’s shit tell me you love it idc JUST DONT BE SILENT PLEASE

[russilton]

George Russell hosts a slightly odd tour of the Mercedes Engineering building, calls Bono more famous than any of them (correct), shows where the magic happens…and makes it evident the engineering team 100% knows what’s happening in any drivers room based rpf

[flowersinthegrocerystore]

thinking about the concept of jesse acting as the ghost of nacho, haunting mike and gus wherever they go.

like okay. imagine how mike felt when he first saw jesse with his head shaved, living like he straight up doesn't care if he lives or dies. you're driving over just thinking this kid's gonna kill himself, this kid's gonna kill himself, and when you get there, for just a brief moment, you see the back of his head and there's another kid looking back at you, same haircut, same dead look in his eyes, just another one ruined by the business. and then he keeps looking at you for approval like a dog waiting for scraps, and his eyes are blue, not brown, but you can't erase the same haunted look in either of them, because one's dead, and you'll try to save this one, but you see the way he looks at you with those eyes and you just know. this kid's already dead anyway.

imagine how gus felt in his dying moments, realizing that for walter to know where to find him, jesse would have to be in on it too. realizing that jesse is truly and utterly lost in the world, just trying to protect his loved ones, and he's been good to jesse but it's always been too late, because at the end of the day he's already gotten another one just like him killed, so saving jesse never really mattered. Jesse openly defies him, like, fifty times, and he doesn't hurt him, barely threatens him, but he still flinches when anyone gets too close, seeing walter yell at him like a dog and remembering himself calling nacho one. gus seeing the terrified look in jesse's eyes and realizing as he's dying that he really is just like nacho.

now imagine you're jesse, and it's an overused line, really, but it's true- this was always going to happen, she's been dead since the beginning. and you never met this dead man but there are reflections of him inside you, you watch another addict stumble down your hallway and remember, vaguely, the shape of a gun pressed against your temple, because it's the same. gunshots or drugs or some other accident, death is death. and you let it happen, because somehow you're still alive, but really you died a long time ago.

[theroyalsandi]

British Royal Family - Zara Tindall and Mike Tindall on day four of the 2025 Cheltenham Festival at Cheltenham Racecourse. (Photos by Andrew Matthews) | March 14, 2025.

[raekensluver]

happy valentine's day to:

guys with brown puppy dog eyes!! 💗

[akuma-tenshi]

i went through way too much effort to find this post tbh