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#mickie
neggsbenedict-art · 1 year
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My helluva boss/hazbin hotel oc's !!! (ft. my friends @nonbinary-thing oc in Jazz' Art)
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trans-godzilla · 11 months
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I have a question for y'all, both old and new tumblr users
(forgive me if this has been done before, I'm just curious!)
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kickflipkidd · 1 year
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well fuckit. no one's asking but I finally drew some of my guys.
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simplified my art style a bit in order to actually get these bitches out of my head in any way shape or form
based on the way they are in the battle of the bands au I'm working on for them. these four are in a band called "Pretty Cute, For A Dyke (PC-FAD)" based on an interaction Mickie had with a dude in a bar and also "pc fad" is what a lot of people call the concept of queerness in general and not-a-one of these fuckos is straight
they are all pursuing music degrees of different kinds which is how they initially met, Ash and Mickie were already a bonded pair, Kit was the third wheel to their gay little tricycle, and they adopted Florian mostly against his will (he just has a hard time making friends okay. they all love each other)
maybe I'll post more about this. maybe not idk but I love these guys.
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waterwindow · 3 months
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Some Solly faces for fun
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dailyflicks · 5 months
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POSSESSION — 1981, dir. Andrzej Żuławski
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apollos2 · 7 months
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pure and radiant, he wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men
there is nothing more terrifying
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mickyschumacher · 3 months
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can you please do a Carlos imagine where Carlos and Y/N are out partying after a race. Y/N gets approached by a drunk and inappropriate guy who either trys to touch her says some inappropriate things, and Carlos steps in. He’s the crazy protective boyfriend, and he ends up getting into a fight with the guy. Carlos gets cut by a broken beer bottle during the fight, so Y/N gets to care for his wound, and basically gets to play nurse on Carlos
𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after winning the australian grand prix, carlos and you decide to take on some partying. what you didn't expect was to end the night nursing your boyfriend.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slightly suggestive at the end (16+), depictions of blood and fighting, reader is harassed by creepy ugly disgusting man, mentions of alcohol, small consolation, poor humour, google translated spanish by yours truly, fluff, and lastly, shitty proof-reading
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x girlfriend!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.3k
𝐀/𝐍: so so sorry it took this long! i didn't go fully for smut because idk if you wanted it but i'm happy to make a part two in the near future! hope you enjoyed it ♡︎
𝐀/𝐍: welcome to my drabble/blurb phase because i, for the life, of me cannot produce long fics consistently despite constantly having ideas! although i am redefining the meaning of drabbles and blurbs with this word count :)
𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The Australian Grand Prix. The third race into the season. Max had won the last two, predictably setting the tone for the rest of the year. Carlos, on the other hand, needed to up his game.
You were together when you found out he had lost his seat for the following year. Boy, were you gutted. Carlos had done everything in his power, forever compared to Ferrari's golden boy. He liked Charles, but what the fuck was he supposed to do with this type of treatment? And to make matters worse, Lewis was a great driver pulling great results in shit car.
Carlos needed to win. He needed to be the most wanted in that damn paddock. And while Max was winning so far, the universe often has it's odd ways.
Even if that was in the form of fiery flames on Max's brakes in the opening laps.
You remembered it as clear as day.
You were in as much disbelief as anyone else, eyes widened as Max's car slowed, grey smoke billowing out of the rear while even the Haas and Williams surpassed him.
Your eyes hesitantly moved to the large screens in the garage, zoning in on the number one row to see Carlos' name sprawled next to it. A gasp fell from your lips, eyes averting to a shouting Oñoro before you hugged each other with shaky hands.
Your heart was in your ears, thudding in echoes. Hands sticky at your sides as you watched the the last lap. You knew the outcome. Yet you couldn't stomach it. With a tight throat, you weren't sure if you going to throw up or break into tears.
Instead of your heartbeat, you found the roars of Ferrari deafening. Flashes of white cameras mixed with the air as the sun warmed your golden boy. Looking up through your lashes, you caught his gleaming smile before catching the feel of his lips on yours.
Carlos had won. He was the most wanted driver in the damn paddock.
And that deserved a celebration.
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You and Carlos weren't ones for partying. Not unless it was with the right people. And there was nothing more right than a Grand Prix winner and all his supporters in one place.
It was packed. Bodies so close together, full of sweaty rivulets amongst the humidity and strobe lights. The music felt foundational as it coursed from your feet and into your veins.
Carlos watched you dance in front of him. You were remarkable. Skin so flushed that in even in the flickering lights, you radiated. Your hair stuck to your glittering skin, but nowhere near as close as the dress you had worn for him.
He smiled softly at the cheeky gaze your gave him, large hand reaching out to grab your waist. His cheek skimmed your face as he pressed a kiss onto your cheek. "You're killing me."
"All in a day's work," you quipped, hanging your hands around his neck. You could hear Carlos' huff of amusement over the pulsing music. You held those brown puppy eyes, drinking them in, you smiled. "I'm proud of you, cariño."
The humour on his face faded, replaced by a moment of fulfilment. His other hand moved to caress your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. His thumb moved in small soothing circles. "Thank you."
His words sounded like a whisper in the loudness, but you could hear how much it meant to him as much as you could see it.
You lifted your head up, bringing your lips to his. Carlos' grip on your waist tightened, his own lips quirking into a smile as you kissed him with the entirety of your heart. Gone was any trace of alcohol or humidity in the air. All you could feel, smell, and taste was Carlos. And you loved it.
Breathlessly, you begrudgingly moved away from Carlos, taking a moment to come up for air.
"Let me get you a drink, hermosa," Carlos offered, grinning at the jut of your lips as you pouted. "I'll be back soon. Fastest pitstop ever."
You laughed loudly, throwing your head back, entirely unaware of the mystical trance you had brought Carlos into. With the nod of your head, you gestured for him to go on.
Watching the retreating figure of Carlos, you found yourself amused and entertained at the sight of Lando's valiant DJing efforts. Another driver who was enjoying his first podium of the year.
You were only moving lightly to the music, waiting for Carlos with little patience. But the sudden cold shiver that had travelled up your body had set the alarms off in your mind. Your throat felt dry at the unfamiliar hand on your shoulder and your body felt uneasy upon looking at the sleazy stranger.
"Hello, sweetheart! How are you doing?" The Australian accent was exceptionally loud over the music and the alcohol reeked, particularly from the beer bottle in his hand.
You winced, trying to keep a fake smile at bay. "Great," you murmured, attempting to move your shoulder away from him but the man's fingers were latched.
"Aw, now don't be like that," he retorted, taking a step closer to you. "Let's dance... get to know each other a little, hmm?"
The hairs of your body stood straight. "I... my boyfriend will be here soon, then we can get to know each other."
You wanted to shrivel into a ball at the sickening laugh that had fallen from the stranger's lips. "Oh, he doesn't need to know anything. Come on, baby," he egged, bottled-hand suddenly finding your waist, "can't you feel how much I want you?"
Bile found it's way up your throat but you managed to keep it down. "No, I don't," you said sharply, "you need to leave."
You tried to move your hands away from him, pushing at his chest, but his grip was only getting tighter, moving down your body in the most repulsing manner. What the hell? Suddenly you felt like you were all alone in this club. Where the hell was everyone?
"She said leave."
You snapped your head to the familiar Spanish voice, relief flooding into your system but only momentarily as the scenario escalated at an unearthly speed.
Your eyes widened, feeling a mix of warm and cold air rush past your body as the stranger was ripped off of you and thrown to the ground. Shit.
You couldn't gather what was even going on. Carlos was straddling the man, pummelling him repeatedly. The music, you think, has stopped. A crowd had formed. Lando and Oñoro had quickly made their way, trying to diffuse the situation.
Your heart skipped a few beats as Carlos took a few hits himself. And the sound of glass shattering bordered on you having a heart attack. Fuck, fuck, this was bad. You could see people pull out their phones, recording, which only baffled you even more.
You aided Oñoro in pulling Carlos away, sucking in a sharp breath at the string of angry curses falling your boyfriend's mouth, moving between English to Spanish. "¡Jodido gilipollas! ¿Quién coño te crees que eres? That's my girlfriend, you creep. ¡Nunca la toques con esas asquerosas manos! ¡Te joderé si te vuelvo a ver!" Fucking asshole! Who the fuck do you think you are? That's my girlfriend, you creep. Don't ever touch her with those disgusting hands! I will fuck you up if I ever see you again!"
"Es suficiente, Carlos," you appeased, urging him to stay away as you began to spot the runs of blood down the sides of his face and neck, mixed in with the loose beer. That's enough, Carlos.
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You still weren't sure what was going on. You had no idea where Oñoro had gone after sending you and Carlos to your hotel room because, God forbid, Carlos' PR team had a lot of work to do, legally and socially.
Lando had briefly dropped in, grabbing a first aid kid from the hotel staff before leaving with Oñoro.
You quietly watched Carlos walk into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, water covering his body as he had washed off all the beer and blood.
Carlos captured the pained look on your face, eyeing the patches of red skin across his chest and the nicks on his face. He sighed, holding in a wince as he sat next to you. "I'm fine, hermo–"
"You are an idiot," you cut him off, handing him the ice pack you had made from the hotel's materials. "Hold this on your chest, it'll reduce the swelling."
You leaned in the further, trying to take a better look at him. A frown made it's way onto your face. The more you looked, the worse you felt. The red patches on his chest, the bruised cheek, and the worst of all, the horrid gash across his hand.
Carlos carefully watched you chew your lip, tediously grabbing his injured hand, inspecting the wound. The pain which had gotten worse in midst of his shower quickly began to dissipate at your touch. If there was any stinging pain, he couldn't feel it, even when you had cleaned the gash.
"Why didn't you call me?" Carlos queried, breaking the thick silence that had been held over you.
You paused your cleaning, briefly flickering your eyes to his face before quickly averting in the fear you would be sucked up into a whole new problem in those luring brown eyes. Furrowing your brows, you resumed. "I had it under control," you lied with a determined stubbornness.
Carlos laughed softly in amusement before wincing at the stretch of his bruised cheek. He sighed. "I don't doubt that you did," he started, hand reaching out to gently move your chin towards him, "but you should've come and found me. Or even Oñoro or Lando."
You couldn't help but return a sigh, hesitantly putting the antiseptic onto his hand, awaiting any jerking reaction. You realised he was waiting for some sort of response, ignoring any pain shooting up his fingers. "I know," you told him, "I just... froze."
Carlos softened his eyes. "Cãrino... I'm sorry you had to go through that. I-I should've stayed. Are you okay?"
You gave him a pointed look. He had already asked you that, mere seconds after you had pulled him away from the fight. You held back an eye roll at the raised brows Carlos gave you. "I'm fine, Carlos. I'm not the one beat up."
"If I got there any later..." Carlos trailed off, unsure if he was sick or angry at the thought.
You paused, almost falling into the same train of thought but you shook it off. You grabbed the roll of bandage, unravelling the strip of white around his hand. "But you didn't," you reassured, giving him a small smile. Carlos smiled, nodding in agreement.
"Can we exterminate men?"
A laugh quickly fell from your lips at the question. God, how many times have you thought about that one before?
You finished wrapping the bandage, tying a small secure knot before grabbing the ice pack from his other hand. Inching closer to him, you gently pressed the ice on his cheek. "And what about you then?"
Carlos raised a brow, using his free hand to pull you onto his lap. You gasped at the coldness on your waist as waves of cold flushed your body. "I'm excluded from this... obviously."
"Obviously," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "Are you sure though? Because I wouldn't mind it," you teased.
"Really?" Carlos narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer to you. "You wouldn't mind no kisses, no hugs, no... touches?"
All of a sudden your throat felt dry at his words. His cold fingers ghosting down the side of your neck with a following trail of goosebumps. And yet you felt hot.
You pretended to ponder for a minute, trying your absolute best to ignore the brown eyes watching you or the fingers grazing your chest. "I think I'm okay with it," you whispered.
Carlos stopped moving his hand and gave you a dry look. "Well I'm not," he childishly retorted before bringing his lips to yours.
His lips were soft as per usual, taking you by surprise with the intensity of this kiss. You could feel his arm tighten around your waist, warmth spreading across your body as his bandaged hand gently held your face.
You were melting at his touch. His tongue was navigating your mouth, consuming your very being. You could feel his hand adjust you on his lap, letting you feel something else entirely.
Carlos' breath hitched at the feel of you hand snaking up his bare thigh, inching closer and closer to where he was aching the most. His hand shot out, covering your own through the towel he was wearing.
You parted from his lips, raising a brow with a panting chest. You could see his lust-ridden eyes, practically begging for you do to do more.
"Take it back."
You mended your brows. What on earth was he... oh.... oh.
With a firm sigh, you relented. "Fine, you won't be exterminated. I guess... it would be hard to live without you."
Carlos grinned, satisfied with your answer. "True... and we would have the hardest job of all."
"And what's that?" You asked, eagerly awaiting his response with perked ears.
Carlos' injury-free hand stretched out, moving your hair behind your ears before grazing past your cheek and landing on your lips. He smiled widely. "To repopulate the earth, hermosa."
You gasped, instinctively hitting his chest. "Carlos!"
The Spaniard dramatically winced at the action, holding his bandaged hand to his chest.
"Mierda," you cursed, "I'm so sorry, cariño." Your eyes darted around, ensuring you hadn't made anything worse.
Carlos tapped your thigh, directing your attention to him. "Can we go back to repopulating the earth now?"
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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Thanksgiving 2021!
Mickie and the newest addition to the family!
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proudlymale · 8 months
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Micky Kurz
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jean-meowreau · 2 months
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SocMed AU pt. 1 (officially)
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TY to my wonderful lil cock(roach)s @ninyard @jeanyvesm & @exystyx for the inspiration and some of the username ideas lol
bonus (part 1.5)
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aldmerisorcery · 10 months
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theaceofarrows · 1 year
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9 year old Dick: I'll have the sloppy Joe, please
Bruce: Dick, they don't serve sloppy Joes here. It's a 3 michelin star restaurant
Dick: Oh, sorry. I will have the uncouth Joseph, please
Waiter: ...Excellent choice, sir
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mickedy · 4 months
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i dunno
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dragonmickie · 5 months
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put your humanshy in a bunny outfit. Sorry
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dailyflicks · 6 months
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ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND — 2004, dir. michel gondry
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margflower · 7 months
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