#but who the fuck sees fiona and just goes nah

[jackass-insomniac]

I had a dream Fiona had a shirt that said 'Eat Pussy Do Crimes'. The sleeves were rolled up to make a tank top sorta and I think my subconscious his hella gay.

#fiona nova #achievement hunter #but who the fuck sees fiona and just goes nah #people that have no light or hope in their hearts thats who

[arrowflier]

Omggg my heart is aching with the small Mickey and Ian one 😭😭 please do a part two fuckkkk

I’M SORRY ANON BUT LOOK LOOK I FIXED IT.  Moved this to the top of my prompt list so I wouldn't leave you hanging.

Part 1 if anyone needs their heart broken before I make it better.  The parallels will make more sense too.

--

It's early on a Saturday afternoon when Mickey sees it. 

They're over at the Gallagher house, watching Franny while Debbie works and Liam studies upstairs.  Mickey has just finished chasing Franny around the house in a rousing game of liquor store robbery and collapsed on the worn sofa next to Ian, letting the other man drape an arm over his sweaty shoulders.

"She wear you out?" Ian asks, amused, as he turns down the volume on whatever comedy show rerun he was watching.

Mickey shakes his head, letting the movement tuck him more thoroughly into Ian's hold.

"Nah, just gotta give Little Red a break," he claims, but grins when Ian raises his eyebrows at him.

The both turn back to Franny, still zooming around the living room like a ginger Tasmanian devil, and Ian laughs.

"Yeah, looks like you really did a number on her," Ian quips, and Mickey elbows him in the gut.  Ian lifts him arm to grab Mickey by the hair, shaking him lightly.

Mickey smacks ineffectively at his husband's hand.  "Hey man, watch the..." he trails off.

Because from the corner of his eye, he can see what Franny is up to.  She’s bent over a box Debbie had brought down from the attic that morning, digging through old toys and papers, pulling out an old, raggedly, doll.

A doll that looks oddly familiar.

Mickey stares long enough that Ian notices, and releases him.

“Mick,” he starts, sounding worried.  “You okay?”

Mickey clears his throat.  “Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he says, then, “where’d that old thing come from?”

Ian gives him a confused look, so he nods his head at the doll that Franny is now happily playing with on the living room floor.  She bends it’s limbs in all sorts of unnatural directions as they watch.

“Oh, that?” Ian says casually.  “That was Fiona’s I think.  Debbie lugged it around for a while too, back before she stole that kid.”

Mickey’s head snaps toward him.  “Stole the...” he shakes his head.  “No, never mind, I don’t wanna know.”  He sits quietly, feeling Ian’s eyes still on him, and thumbs the side of his nose.

“Why?” Ian finally asks, and Mickey huffs. 

“Not important,” he says, then stands abruptly from the sofa.  “Hey, why don’t we take the kid to the park today?”

Franny hears that.  “Park?” she asks excitedly, jumping up from the floor.  She runs over to Mickey, dragging the doll by an arm, until she can wrap her own arms around Mickey’s leg.

“Yeah kid, why not?” he offers, ignoring Ian’s confused face behind him.  “Go get Liam too, little Einstein probably needs a break.”

Franny eagerly runs off to do as she’s told, and Ian stands to move forward next to Mickey.  He wraps his arms around him from behind, loose but present, and Mickey leans back into it.

“What’s this about, Mickey?” Ian asks softly, but Mickey just shakes his head again.  

“Tell you when we get there,” he promises instead.  “It’s fine, Ian.”

Ian tightens his hold briefly, then lets go when the kids come storming back down the stairs, relenting.  He helps Franny into her coat while Mickey helps Liam track his down under a stack of laundry, and then they’re out the door, and off.

--

The route to the park is familiar.  They pass the building where Ian had pressed him against the wall in broad daylight to kiss the life out on the way to the L after a family dinner.  And the alley where someone had tried to mug them one night only to run away when he saw Mickey’s tats, leaving them both laughing so hard they had to hold each other up.  

When they got to the park itself, Mickey made straight for the bench where Ian had sat on his lap two weeks ago just to piss off some holier-than-thou, gentrifying housewife.  Franny and Liam immediately made for the playground together, but Ian followed him, sitting close at his side this time with an arm around his waist.

For a moment, they just watch.  Liam is helping Franny climb the jungle gym, no small feat considering that she still hasn’t let go of her new favorite toy: that dirty, torn, raggedy doll that Mickey had somehow recognized from twenty-odd years ago.

“So,” Ian finally starts.  “We’re here.”

Mickey hums.  “We are,” he agrees.  He leaves it at that just long enough to feel Ian’s chest heave in a sigh, then smiles and scoots even closer.

“You come here a lot as a kid?” he asks Ian, who’s surprised by the question.

“Uh, I guess,” he answers slowly.  “I mean, Monica brought us sometimes, but she’d kinda forget we were here, so we usually told her we didn’t want to go.”  He turns his gaze to Mickey’s profile.  “Why?”

Mickey shrugs.  “Met you here,” he reveals, and can tell by the way Ian’s arm stiffens around him that the other man doesn’t know what to make of that.

“No, you didn’t,” Ian disagrees.  “I think I’d remember that, Mick, come on.”

“Nah, I did,” Mickey insists, still not looking at him.  “You were like, a baby then, you wouldn’t remember.”  He knows Ian wants to respond to that, but he doesn’t let him, pushing on instead.

“Musta been you, Lip, and Fiona,” he tells Ian.  “All together over by that sandbox.”  He points at the broken plastic turtle that’s seen better times, now barely holding any sand at all.  “Your idiot brother stole that damn doll from her and ran.”

“Franny’s doll?” Ian asks, intrigued.  “How are you so sure?”

Mickey snorts, and finally turns to face him, one leg coming up onto the bench between them.  Ian’s arm falls from his back, his hand landing on Mickey’s knee, where his thumb starts to stroke back and forth.

“I’d know you anywhere, Red,” he shares.  “Your hair’s like a fuckin’ target man, can’t hide that shit.”

Ian blinks at him.  “But you said I was a baby.”

“You were.  Like, one or two, I guess?  But you already had the hair.”  Mickey reaches up with one hand, ruffles it through Ian’s close-cropped curls, and laughs when Ian goes cross-eyed trying to see what he’s doing.  “Even then I wanted to fuckin’ touch it,” Mickey muses.

Ian finally catches that hand and brings it down between them, linking their fingers.  “Why didn’t you?” he questions.  “I mean, I didn’t know you for years after that, why didn’t you come talk to us?”

Mickey’s lips twist.  “Tried to,” he admits.  “Well, sorta.  But Fiona was protective, and you started fuckin’ cryin’.”  He looks down, then back up through his lashes.  “Scared the shit out of me, man.  Thought I fuckin’ broke you.”  He shrugs.  “So I left.”

They’re quiet for another moment, before Ian breaks the silence.

“Too bad,” he sighs.  Mickey looks at him questioningly, and he grins.  “If I’d known you were that soft earlier, I might have made a move before you tried to kill me.”

“Uncle Mickey, Uncle Ian!” Franny shouts, interrupting their moment.  She runs toward them from the playground, Liam trailing behind her.

Mickey shifts to put both feet back on the ground, leaning forward to catch her as she barrels into his legs for the second time that day.

“What up Little Red?” he asks, but she’s too busy poking at the tattoos on his hand to respond.

He looks up when Liam answers instead.  “Time to go back,” Liam says, “I gotta finish that workbook tonight.”

“Says who?” Mickey asks, and Liam rolls his eyes.

“Says me, because I don’t want to do it tomorrow,” he responds, and Mickey mumbles nerd under his breath, but obediently stands and hoists Franny up onto his hip.

“Nooo, Uncle Ian!” she cries, wriggling, and Mickey scoffs as Ian reaches over to take her with a shit-eating grin.  

“Fine, take her,” Mickey says, “we all know I’m still the favorite.”

It’s Ian’s turn to roll his eyes, turning to carry Franny back toward the house.  Liam follows behind them, but Mickey lingers.

He looks out over the playground again.  He’s been there more in the last two years than he ever had been as a child, sat on that bench with Ian and run through the woodchips with Franny and even pushed Fred on the baby swings once.  The kid had smiled up at him like he was the king of the world, even fucking reached for him after.  It was a far cry from the days he prowled the edges, selling drugs and spotting targets for his pops.  Even farther from the days he had wandered back on his own when his mom wasn’t there, just hoping to catch sight of that splash of fire-red again.

“Hey Mick!” the owner of that red hair calls from behind him.  “You coming?”

Mickey smiles.  He casts one more look over everything, then turns.  Ian is waiting for him, Franny in his arms, Liam at his side, and Mickey goes to them.  They know the way home, but he’ll walk it with them anyway.

#daily speedwrite #fic request #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #franny gallagher #liam gallagher #don't worry this one is happier #everything's fine now Mickey is fine #he's happy and he has a family and he can ruffle Ian's hair all he wants #fanfic

[gardenerian]

I wish you would write a fic where lip introduces tami to joaquin 💐💖

lauren i already told you how much i love this but i have to tell you how much i love this 💕 writing it was.... a challenge to be sure. shout out to @phillipgallagher who had the brilliant hc of joaquin giving lip a job - i didn't quite go there but it's definitely an influence!

The stench of grease follows him these days. It lives in his clothes, his skin, his hair. It feels different than his days in the college dining hall or Patsy's - it's heavy, weighed down with something he doesn't want to name.

This is how he feeds his son.

Lip gets up every day and does what he needs to do, like he always fuckin has. He sweats for his money. Maybe he was always supposed to. Delivering shitty takeout to rich fucks who would rather eat the eight dollar delivery fee than walk twelve blocks for their burgers isn't what Lip ever had in mind for himself. Shit, fixing bikes wasn't anything he'd imagined either. Seems like he's constantly recalibrating.

Climbing the stairs, he thinks about the words he said to Fiona once - "You sure you wanna be directing all your freed up energy there?" - and wants to fucking kick himself. Lip's freed up energy goes towards hiking the stairwells of ten-floor walkups with no fucking elevator.

He's breathing hard by the time he reaches the eighth floor, and he knocks on this fucker's door with what he hopes is the most passive-aggressive sound he can muster. The door swings open and -

"Holy shit."

Familiar eyes widen at the sight of him.

"Lip?"

It takes a moment for his brain to come back online.

"...Hey, man."

He braces for the questions. Where have you been? What are you doing? Why are you doing this? How did you end up here?

They don't come. A hand, big and warm, grasps at his shoulder.

"Holy fuck, man, hey! How've you been?"

He wants to say that it should be pretty evident. He wants to gesture to the bag of tacos in his hand and say the fuck you think?

But the defensiveness that lives under his skin these days dulls a little when he studies his old friend. Joaquin looks good - healthy, bright. He's familiar despite the few years that have aged them both. And more than that, he looks genuinely happy to see him.

"'M alright, yeah," he answers honestly. "Doin' this until something else comes along, y'know. Got a kid at home."

"No shit?"

"Fred, yeah. He's two." He feels his anxiety settle. And he asks the question. "What about you, man? What's up?"

"Just workin', mostly. Started this tech design firm a couple of years ago with a buddy and it just kinda took off recently. It's been good, though."

Lip feels some distant opportunity fall away - maybe something he could have had in another life. With a buddy. In some other time, it could have been him.

He nods because he can't speak. He holds out the bag of tacos, now cold and likely inedible.

"Oh shit, yeah, thanks. Hey, you got time to come in for a beer or something?"

Lip doesn't bother to correct him. That's not a conversation for this hallway. "Nah, man, sorry. Gotta keep movin'. Good to see you, though."

He's already pushing the door to the stairwell as Joaquin calls his own goodbye. Fuck.

That evening, after he's rinsed as much of the stale grease scent from his body as possible, Lip flops onto the couch. Fred is playing with his blocks on the floor; Tami flips through a magazine in the armchair. Not bad.

He pulls out his phone and responds to a few messages in the family chat, then flips through his apps. His mostly defunct Facebook account has a notification, and he clicks the icon knowing what it must be.

"Shit," he breathes.

"What's up?" Tami asks, glancing up from her reading.

"Message from an old buddy I ran into today. Joaquin. He wants to meet up this weekend."

"I've never heard that name. Who is he?"

"Met in college. He was a good guy. My best friend for a while, probably."

"Don't let Ian hear you say that."

Lip rolls his eyes, chuckling. His memories of Joaquin are tied up with those of gut-twisting worry for Ian. Maybe it's not. Joaquin is a looming figure in his memory, one he tried to ignore for his own peace of mind. But maybe he doesn't have to.

"You gonna meet up with him?"

He doesn't hesitate.

-

The coffeeshop sits on the edge of the South Side. It has just enough of an edge for Lip to relax into his seat. But it's still a fucking coffeeshop.

Tami sips at her latte while Fred babbles in her lap. This is who he is: this is what he has. He doesn't think Joaquin will mind. When the man himself sits down across from them, he feels two versions of himself begin to reconcile.

The conversation flows easy, as it always had. They talk about Fred, about his family, about the house. He slips in a couple of mentions about his sobriety - both sides of his face are warmed by twin smiles from Tami and Joaquin.

Joaquin talks about some of his travels, the new business, the guy he’s been seeing. There’s that same feeling of something large and distant falling away. Something that could have been, maybe something that almost was.

He watches Joaquin make faces at Freddie as he chats with Tami about some TV show he’s never seen. And it strikes him.

This friendship - this bond, this care - it was never about what Lip did or what he could be. It was about who Lip was. Who they were. Maybe now it could about who they are.

He’s been so focused on his family for so long. Gallaghers have never been known to nurture longstanding friendships beyond Kev and V. And yet here is someone who might just want to know him again. Even as he is now.

They part ways on the sidewalk, each returning to their homes and own lives. Joaquin claps him on the back, good to see you brother, and invites him to come check out his office in the coming days.

Some things have fallen away. Some may just be coming together.

#basically all of my ideas start with alejandra's headcanons ty my love #me 🤝 lip 🤝 fucking up our lives and falling ass backwards into whatever the fuck comes next #ty for this lauren!!!! #i hope you like #fic #tumblr writing

[bisexualsoup]

for the AH ask game, 13 and 22!

god this ask was sent so long ago and i didn't see it til now cause i'm DUMB lmao oopsie anyways hi !!! <3

13. Favorite quote?

"if i see a pear at a grocery store, i might just fuck around and by it!" from fiona cause she's so right #fionawasrightaboutthepears

another hilarious moment i think about a lot is when someone sent them moxie soda on ahwu and matt asked what it tasted like and trev said "it's like those 2 guys from stuart little" and to this day i have no idea what he was on about

more things fiona said that i'm obsessed with is when she said princess peach was a lesbian and michael asked her who told her that and she went "um, god" AND when they were playing trivia murder party and the question was who killed medusa and fiona immediately goes "an ASSHOLE" and mikey was like nah medusa deserved it and fiona's like "no they just didn't like a strong independent woman" and jacks like "she killed a bunch of people" and fiona's like "let her. that's reparations" and then she said poseidon could suck her big fat cock

ALSO last thing when jeremy said "a sheep with a gun can kill a shark with nothing" and matt said "i don't know if a sheep with a gun would do anything"

22. What series got you into their content?

honestly what it was was this episode of on the spot came up in my youtube recommended and i was like yo this improv gameshow is hilarious lemme watch every single episode, and obviously ah members were on the show a bunch so i decided to check out their stuff and the rest is history

#ask #implodingcacti

[staranon95]

all the way down

a red hood au drabble

Gavin feels like he’s in a fog.

He hasn’t slept yet. Couldn’t fall asleep. Lindsay and Michael ended up taking him home to their place. He’d be no good on his own, and he liked staying with the Jones’. They make life comfortable.

He ends up leaving their second bedroom around four in the morning after two hours of tossing and turning. He drifts into the living room and situates himself on the armchair that looks directly out onto the street. They live in one of the older suburbs where the houses are largely one floor plus a basement.

Somewhere across the city, a masked man is sleeping off some serious injuries in Fiona’s flat. A man who has been confirmed to be Alfredo.

He remembers Alfredo. He’s never been able to forget Alfredo.

dEveryone thinks he’s moved on to an extent. It’s been five years, why wouldn’t he? He should be well adjusted, but what the others don’t know is that he would periodically visit the old crime scene shortly after Alfredo’s death. The site was cleared shortly after the fire once the investigation had closed. Then it sat empty for two years until some developer came along and built a new warehouse. Any clues left behind would be impossible to find, but still he visits that site.

He’s not in mourning, he doesn’t think. He did that shortly after Alfredo’s demise. He’d describe it as a restlessness. He’d describe it as a regret. He can’t really say what Alfredo meant to him back in the day. Alfredo was fun. He was a good kid despite only being a few years younger than Gavin. He was eager and loud and liked sending Gavin dumb videos on the internet late at night.

So then why does Gavin feel like his heart is going to cramp in his chest? There was nothing between them.

He ponders these questions and these feelings until the sun rises and his eyes feel sore and blurred. It’s around this time one of Lindsay’s cats makes an appearance. A long-haired stray that stretches out in front of Gavin before sitting neatly on the ground next to the armchair until Gavin invites her onto his lap. Lindsay is quick to follow.

“Hey, Gav,” she says, somewhere behind him in the kitchen. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Nah. Too much to think about.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It was a strange fucking night.”

He wonders what’s going through Lindsay’s mind. She’s the one who brought him in. Did Alfredo not remember her? Maybe he didn’t recognize her. But they don’t know what state Alfredo is in. Maybe he knows them as the Fakes and not as old friends.

What if he doesn’t remember Gavin as Gav? What would Gavin do then?

“Gavin?”

He hums in response and cranes his neck around to look at Lindsay.

“I asked if you wanted some coffee.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. That sounds great.”

Michael sleeps in late that day, and Gavin feels a headache building in his temples.

“Any news from Trevor?” asks Michael once he’s had some coffee and food in him.

“Nothing yet,” Lindsay says. “We’re on standby. Fiona says Alfredo is up. She’s not talking to him, though, and he doesn’t seem like he’s going to run away.”

“Not with those injuries he’s not. Give it a few days. He’ll eat her out of house and home and then disappear into the night.”

“You think she can convince him to stay?”

Michael snorts. “Listen, I don’t doubt Fifi’s ability to play the part, but she’s not a gracious host.”

“I haven’t even been invited into her flat yet. What about you, Gav? She ever let you in?”

Gavin shakes his head. “I don’t even know her address. Can’t blame her, though. Otherwise we’ll all be crashing in at three in the morning.”

“Yeah that’s pretty true,” Lindsay says. “I would make an excuse every time just to see her. Like not even for work stuff. Just to see her.”

“She’s a private person that way,” Michael says.

“Which makes this a really big deal,” Gavin mutters. “Anyway. I think I’m gonna Uber back to my place. Take a shower. Take a nap.”

“You sure you’ll be good, boy?” Michael asks.

“I can offer you the ride,” Lindsay says.

“I am not taking you as an Uber. I just feel weird whenever I do. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Will do,” Michael says.

Gavin nearly falls asleep on the ride over to his apartment. He stumbles out of the car and walks to his ground floor apartment slowly. His apartment is quiet when he enters. There’s a dull ringing in his ears as he walks through to his bedroom. He doesn’t go for the bed. Not yet.

First, he draws down his black out curtains and turns on the bedside lamp. He pulls off his jeans and takes off his dress shirt and tosses them on the floor towards the laundry hamper. He kneels down on the ground in front of his dresser. He goes into the bottom drawer, pulling out jeans and folded pairs of pants. He installed a false bottom into his dresser when he first bought it. It holds few things. Just some secrets of his. His old birth certificate from England. A newspaper clipping of his old alter ego back before he was noticed by Geoff and Jack—the Tweety Bird Burglar. He still hasn’t figured out where that name originated, but he enjoyed it none the less. And then the one thing he hasn’t looked at in months. A sweater.

The sweater is old. Soft and worn with holes in the sleeves. It was a gag gift. Gavin went out to a custom print shop and had it made. On the back was a homemade logo—the Sauce, the affectionate name Gavin and the rest of the crew had for Alfredo. It was more or less the unofficial gift that welcomed him into the crew. After the accident, Gavin went to Alfredo’s place and took this with him before they had the place cleaned out and everything else disposed of.

He sets the sweater over his knees and rubs his hand over the faded and cracked words of the print.

Whatever’s going to happen now, Gavin doesn’t think he’ll be getting his ‘Fredo back.

#fake ah crew #fahc #gta au #star speaks #star writes #red hood au #am i building up to a gavin/fredo relationship? #yes

[writerofshit]

Secret Santa:X

(This is half headcanon, half fic, all fun times and emotions)

(Shoutout to the Penthouse discord server for help on some of the gifts, would have been lost without you)

The last Christmas they have in the penthouse, Ryan brings up Secret Santa again. It’s partly a joke, partly a nod to the nostalgia that’s been eating at all of them the last few months. He brings it up when they’re all gathered in the living room, watching Gavin try and prove his stealth abilities in Hitman.

(“Just because you can be stealthy in a video game doesn’t mean I’m letting you come with me.” Jack had said at the beginning of it all.

“If I get silent assassin you have to take me!”

“This is your fourth run through!”)

Anyhow, Ryan brings it up, all nonchalant. “Remember that year we did Secret Santa?”

“No?” Jeremy says honestly.

“Before your time.” Michael says with a smile, patting him on the head.

“It was fun. We should do it again.”

(”Goddamnit!” On screen, Gavin dies again.)

The next day they have a meeting of all the ‘movers and shakers’, as Geoff has taken to calling them. He announces that Secret Santa is yet again a thing, and no, Matt, you can’t get out of it. There’s no budget, because they all have access to more money than they know what to do with.

They throw eleven names in a hat and go from there. Geoff calls first pick because he’s an asshole like that, and his choice picks next, so on and so forth.

 “Just get your shit done by Christmas, and we’ll do it then.”

--

Geoff pulls Gavin, and only panics a little.

The kid has everything he could ever want, what’s he really supposed to do? He considers what he might need, ends up crossing ‘bulletproof vest and a helmet’ off the list because it feels a little impersonal. He could do liquor of some sort, but he suspects there will be enough of that floating around on Christmas day.

He considers a camera, knows Gavin is into that kind of shit, but he’s lost a lot of knowledge in that department over the years. The only person who knows enough is Gavin himself, and that kind of defeats the point.

He ends up going for a new pair of gold shades, because the old ones are pretty worn out after six-plus years, and he’s almost positive Gavin has lost them. (Probably in Ryan’s room, but that’s neither here nor there) He gets a pair that have diamonds along the arms, and even though they’re ridiculously expensive he thinks it’s worth it.

Gavin adores them, has them on within 30 seconds of unwrapping them. He pokes himself in the eye, and that feels like a bonus to Geoff.

--

Gavin pulls Trevor, and while he plays it off at first “Oh, this will be easy, I got this person for sure!” he absolutely has no idea what to do.

 There’s a weird bit of time where he tries to get to know Trevor better. He learns absolutely nothing new, despite following the guy for almost a week.

There’s a night he lays in bed with Ryan, bitching about this whole thing. “What the hell do I do? This was terrible for me last time, why would you suggest this?”

He ends up calling Barbara from the Roosters to try and figure out something, who promptly makes fun of him for not knowing anything about the guy he’s worked with for years. She does give one bit of new information, so he goes with it.

He gives Trevor tickets to the next Motocross event, because it’s apparently something he’s into. He throws in a NASA t-shirt as a joke, a nod to the world Trevor left behind.

Both items go over well, Trevor immediately pulling the shirt on over what he’s already wearing. He won’t shut up about Motocross for the rest of the day, either.

--

Trevor pulls Ryan, which he’s immediately terrified of.

 He knows Ryan well enough to know that there won’t be any serious repercussions if he fucks it up, he won’t get gutted over a poor gift choice. But he also knows he’ll get that weird stare Ryan does when he’s pretending to consider whether or not to hurt someone. Plus he won’t live it down from the rest of the crew.

At first he goes to Gavin for help, because apparently nobody is taking the ‘secret’ part seriously. Gavin absolutely refuses to help him, mostly for the laughs. He knows Gavin’s getting a kick out of watching him squirm over this, which is so unfair. Then he asks Jack for help, who just shrugs. 

“You’re a smart guy, Trevor, you’ll figure something out.”

He does, sort of. He gives Ryan a 24 pack of diet coke (because what else?) and an actually beautiful rainbow knife. It seems pretty heavy duty, and he knows its right up his alley. He also throws in some earplugs as a joke.

 “So you can tune out Gav’s idiocy whenever you need.”

“Come on, Trevor. I’ve had years of practice at that. The knife is gorgeous though.”

--

Ryan pulls Alfredo, and he’s not too worried about it.

Alfredo’s their go-to sniper these days, and a new sniper rifle seems pretty obvious. Maybe a gift card to Ammunation or something? It does feel a little lackluster, even to him, so he brings it up to Gavin one night, while Gav is still debating t-shirts from Amazon.

“That’s a bit boring, isn’t it?”

“You’re buying a NASA shirt for an ex-aerospace engineer. I’m gonna need you to rethink your stance on this one.”

“Nah. You gotta do something better for Fredo, he deserves it.”

Which. alright, then what the fuck is he supposed to do? He gets his answer the next week when he sees Alfredo on a motorcycle for the first time.

“I’m going to teach you how to actually ride that thing.” Which is good, a chance to catch up and hang out. Bad, because Ryan’s method of teaching is ‘learn by doing’ and does in fact result in shouting.

Ryan still gives him the sniper rifle, which he is far more excited about.

--

Alfredo pulls Fiona, and it’s the first time he marginally regrets joining the crew.

He’s got no fucking idea what she’d like, what gift she’d appreciate and not hit him over. He tries to be casual about asking around, hoping someone might have better insight. The rest of the crew catches on immediately, and they flood him with false information.

“She loves chocolate. Favorite Halloween candy, in fact!” Michael tells him, but the grin he has says otherwise.

“She mentioned something about wanting to learn a new language.” Jack says seriously.

“Get her an English to French dictionary, she’ll love it.” Gavin tacks on.

“French, yep. She definitely wants to learn that one.”

Lindsay is the only one who actually helps him. “She’s been known to enjoy a drink or two.”

By sheer luck he happens to walk into one of the thousand arguments Fiona has with Michael over the whole ‘Halloween candy’ debacle, and he knows immediately that's a bad route to go down.

He ends up making a gift basket full of liquor mini’s and various candies. He makes sure not to include any chocolates, and throws some extra blowpops in, just to be safe.

Thankfully, she does appreciate the thought he put in, and she says she’ll only share with Alfredo since everyone else is an asshole.

--

Fiona pulls Lindsay, and it’s not hard to figure out what she’ll like.

 She considers something chaotic, the two of them wreaking havoc on the city together. It makes sense. She also thinks about organizing a ‘girls day’, getting all the ladies of the crew together to go out and fuck some shit up. There’s a lot of logistics involved in that one, including convincing some of them to be out in the field like that.

It crosses her mind to bring Lindsay to a shelter to play with cats, because if there’s one thing Lindsay likes more than chaos, it’s cats. That’s also a bit of a logistical nightmare, not to mention the strength it would take to pry her away.

In the end she goes with cat merch. It’s a basket full of goodies, including a mug with a cat holding a bi-pride flag, a dress with various cartoon cats on it, and a cat necklace that has her birthstone as the body.

It’s beautiful, and Lindsay just about cries. She too, immediately changes into her new clothing, and she drinks everything out of the mug for at least a month.

--

Lindsay pulls Matt, and at first she panics.

She knows him fairly well, but like... He’s a real weirdo, what’s she supposed to do with that? She wonders what games he could use, if there’s anything he hasn’t bought himself.

Her confusion lasts until she mentions it to Michael. (Only after he let it slip who he’d picked.)

“Are you fucking kidding me? Matt’s the easiest goddamn one!”

“Bullshit! Name one thing you know about M.att B.ragg!”

“He eats like shit! Give him a box of donuts and he’ll lose his fuckin mind.”

Her response of  “Oh my god.” is barely heard.

She spends a week trying out different recipes, much to Ryan’s delight. He’s happy to play taste-tester while she finds the perfect flavor combination.

She winds up going with a double chocolate espresso concoction. Matt is, of course, super stoked about his cupcakes, and damn near has to fight Ryan off to protect them.

--

Matt pulls Jeremy, which is pretty much a slam dunk.

Whiskey is the obvious choice, one he’ll absolutely go with, thank you very much. Who said taking the easy way out never got you anywhere?

And it would have, if it weren’t for Geoff.

There’s a debate that happens about a week before Christmas, something about the necessity of going to the liquor store. Michael and Jeremy are firmly pro-trip, and Geoff just wants them to “stay home and do some goddamn work. Besides, it’s not like half of you guys aren’t buying each other liquor anyway. In a week I’m sure we’ll be fully stocked.”

Which, alright. Fuck Matt then, huh? He’d genuinely thought it was a good idea, a mix of thoughtful and practical.

He decides to pair the whiskey with- well, it’s kind of a joke gift, but at least he won’t be accused of only buying liquor.

He commissions a customized cowboy hat. Half purple half orange, split right down the middle. There’s a neon yellow buckle on it, and it’s the ugliest thing Matt has ever seen in his life.

Jeremy loves it though, thinks it’s goddamn perfect. He wears it for the rest of the day, and for the next heist.

(Michael is less enthused.)

--

Jeremy pulls Michael, and that-

That’s harder than it should be.

He and Michael have been doing this... Whatever the fuck it is for over six months now, and they haven’t goddamn talked about. Not really. They’ve had moments,sure, here and there when they’re both drunk and thinking far too much about it. Reminding each other that they’re happy, that this is a good time, wouldn’t change it for the world-

But there’s still nights they sleep alone and they don’t talk about why. They still don’t really mention it to anyone else, even if they all know. Jeremy still doesn’t know how to answer when someone asks what the deal is with him and Michael.

So it’s hard, right, to come up with a relationship- appropriate gift. Too jokey and he’ll feel bad. Too serious isn’t their style at all. Plus like… how’s he supposed to do that in front of everybody? Just because they know there’s something there doesn’t mean they need to put on a show.

He settles on the obvious, nice bottle of tequila and a couple of shot glasses. It’s not exactly personal, but it’s good enough to show the room.

Later, in a quiet moment they can steal away, Jeremy offers to take him out the next night.

“We’ll do the bar thing, just you and me. My treat.”

“Oh yeah? You’re buying my drinks all night?” Michael asks him with a sly grin.

“I uh- I’ll get your drinks for as long as you’ll have me.” and it doesn’t come out exactly right, but they both know what he means by it.

Earns him a smile and a sweet kiss, and that alone is worth it.

--

Michael pulls Jack, and he runs through a few options.

He considers buying her furniture, because he knows she'll need it when they all finally do move out. But Jack has a good head on her shoulders and probably already has that shit on lock.

He looks into custom shelving, for all the knick knacks she's collected over the years. He could get it designed in colors she'd like and shell out extra for lighting and all that shit. But she doesn't have a new place yet, as far as he knows, so that's kind of a bust.

He could give her what amounts to a gift certificate, an offer to pay for whatever she wants made, but that seems kind of… Empty?

There's the age old alcohol gift, but that's been done before, and is probably being done by almost everyone else.

He mentions to Lindsay how weirdly difficult it is to buy something for Jack, get’s zero advice but somehow helps her figure out the whole Matt mystery.

In the end he decides to help her out and piss her off, a little bit of a win-win kinda thing. He buys her a couple of new shirts, bold and flowery and almost as bad as Jeremy’s Rimmy Tim shtick. He hates them but he knows she loves them, so it’s worth it.

He tells her it’s because her old shirts gotta be falling out of fashion, an opinion she is not happy about.

But it’s fine, because he also gets her tickets to fucking Disney World, of all places. He even offers to go with her, which she absolutely takes him up on.

It’s more fun than he expects, and it’s a really good chance to actually spend some time with her. He hadn’t realized it had been so long.

--

Jack pulls Geoff, which.

It’s no secret that Geoff is a sentimental bastard when it comes to the crew. It’s exactly why he’d spent months talking to her about the possibility of selling the penthouse, trying to figure out exactly how everyone would react, trying to figure out how he would react to not having them all so close anymore. She spent countless nights listening to him wonder what it meant that he wanted his own space.

Objectively, he was probably a bad person but his love and fierce loyalty to the crew made up for that, in some ways, right? So how can he kick them out, how can he do this to them, he’s being selfish-

And she had just explained to him that he had to do what was right for him. That it was understandable. That he was right, they could all use the opportunity to be a little more independent. She was looking forward to having her own space, and in time the rest of them would too.

So when she pulls Geoff’s name, she knows she’s gotta lean into that a bit. She could get him some books, some puzzles maybe. He’d mentioned off-hand that he missed having the space for them, because the kitchen table was always covered in some sort of crew shenanigans.

She does get him those, because she knows they’ll get some use.

But the big thing is the collage.

She’s had pictures of the crew on her phone for years, dating all the way back to her and Geoff in a shitty apartment. She’s got some of Ray, curled up on the couch with a DS in his hand. Gavin and Michael wrestling one drunken night. Ryan, nodded off on the couch after a heist, face paint still on and a complete mess. Jeremy trying to teach Matt something resembling self-defense. Lindsay cuddling a stray cat she had taken in. Trevor and Alfredo in matching clothes, playing up the ‘twin’ joke that had been going around. Fiona in that bright yellow suit, modeling for her Instagram.

There’s one she gets at the last minute, gets somebody from the support team to take right before their latest heist. It’s all eleven of them, full heist get-up, masks and obnoxious fashion choices and guns tucked here and there. They’re in the boardroom, running through it one more time before they take off, and in retrospect, it’s probably the last time they’ll do that in that room.

She sets that one in the middle, surrounded by all of these moments from the last 12 years.

“For your new place, when you find it.” Jack says.

It’s beautiful, and it makes Geoff cry. It brings some sniffles from a lot of them, even if they all deny it.

Leaving the penthouse isn’t the easiest thing for any of them, but it’s the right move. After all, they’re still a family.

#ks writes #fahc #fahc headcanon #ragehappy #christmas in july yall #i honestly love this a lot and hope yall do too #jeremichael #tagging those boys for Reasons

[fangsforfags]

Shameless Characters as Songs I like:

Frank Gallagher: Prescription by Mindless Self Indulgence. It talks about needing to take pills, and Frank Gallagher loves pills. Honestly it just suits him. 🤷

Fiona Gallagher: To Build A Home by Cinematic Orchestra. We shoulda seen this coming. I mean come one, she seriously went since she was 6 to keep her family together! She always tried for them and was always there for them--pretty much becoming like a mom, a parent, a "home" to her siblings. She's worked so hard to keep them home from Dcfs whenever they got separated. She was the only person close enough to a parent that cared for the kids, and she deserved so much better. She became a better mom than Monica and a better dad than Frank. She became the parent her siblings needed. She made sure they were safe because they are her life.

Lip Gallagher: Get It Up by Mindless Self Indulgence. I really didn't want to use another MSI song but there's a part in the song that says, "...just whatever you do don't talk about your fucking boyfriend while we're having sex..." And it just reminds me of Lip because there are times where his partner is talking about someone else while they do it and it just makes this song choice for him even more relatable.

Ian Gallagher: Wires by The Neighbourhood. I think this song goes good with Ian because there's a part where the singer talks about giving someone their medicine and I think of Ian. And the whole song reminds me of Ian and his bipolar because "the wires got the best of him," where the "wires" is his mental illness.

Debbie Gallagher: Smack a bitch by Rico Nasty. I was debating on songs because I dislike Debbie by a lot and was debating in using Lily Allen's song "fuck you." But I chose Rico's song because honestly Debbie isn't afraid to throw hands with someone. In s5, she went and beat up Holly and Ellie (for no reason bc Debs is a bitch like that) and fought that homeless lady in s7 over that corner. So, Debs throws hand.

Carl Gallagher: Teenagers by My Chemical Romance. Honestly, Carl is a tough, intimidating, ruthless person who could beat the shit out of you. I mean, even in early seasons Carl was kinda ruthless to people and pets. This songs just works for him.

Liam Gallagher: Cool Blue by The Japanese House. Honestly I see Liam as this song because Liam is this quiet, calm, collected kid and this song is soft and calm. Yes i know it's used in s1 of 13rw, but this song reminds me of Liam. It's just a nice song to listen to and Liam is pretty quiet and he's a nice kid too.

Mickey Milkovich: Mistakes Like This by Prelow. This song gives me closeted!Mickey vibes man. When the singer is pretty much saying how they can't stop thinking of a person but they know they shouldn't get involved, it reminds me of Mickey before he started actually caring about Ian. Because he wanted Ian, but he knew he shouldn't want him because of his dad. So he tries to keep Ian away with the "feelings" and all that shit.

Mandy Milkovich: Not Your Barbie Girl by Ava Max. We know that Mandy doesn't let guys use her. In s2 Mandy tells Lip that after a 3rd time they either figure it out or stop, meaning she wasn't gonna be someone that was used only for sex. She had plans for a relationship, and doesn't let boys control her. She's also held a shotgun to T*rry so respect for that. :)

Veronica Fisher: OMG by Iggy Azalea and Wiz Khalifa. I think this song goes to Ms. Veronica Fisher because nobody can compare to her. She's absolutely beautiful and she knows it. She's a bad ass bitch too and doesn't fuck with anybody that tries crossing her. A. Fucking. Queen.

Kevin Ball: Never Gonna Give You Up- Rick Astley. Haha, get Rick Rolled bitches. ✌😄 nah jk but Kev deserves this song because he's so fucking loyal from loving V and only V, to helping the Gallaghers when they need it. Kevin is a really loyal guy and loves everyone and is a protector for his friends and family. Everyone needs a Kevin in their life. :)

Karen Jackson: Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood. Yes another song by them, deal with it. But this songs reflects Karen perfectly because her dad did humiliate her in front of a group full of people. He called her a whore and made her think he loved her again. It caused her to fuck up a lot and not care for consequences. But with her dad being a dick and her mom not really being there for her to see her succeed, it fucks you up.

Sheila Jackson: Ms. Jackson by The Outkast. "IM SORRY MS. JACKSON. NEVER MEANT TO MAKE YOU DAUGHTER CRY..." Lol but seriously i see Sheila with this song, well because she's Ms. Jackson. And that part I have quoted makes me think if Lip and Karen. But the song overall makes me think of Sheila. Sheila if you're reading this we miss you and want you back. :(

Yo if you got any songs you think would work better with them just comment! :)

#frank gallagher #fiona gallagher #lip gallagher #ian gallagher #debbie gallagher #carl gallagher #liam gallagher #veronica fisher #kevin ball #mickey milkovich #mandy milkovich #karen jackson #sheila jackson #shameless post

[vole-mon-amour]

OTP tag game.

Tagged by @captainjowl. You know for sure than I'm struggling to pick only 10 & fit them in here. But hell, that’s fun, thank you <3

Rules: Choose 10 OTPs BEFORE reading the questions, and then get to answering

1) Harry James Potter & Sirius Orion Black

2) Daniel Le Domas & Grace (Ready or Not 2019)

3) Samuel & Nathan Drake (Uncharted 4)

4) Corvo Attano & The Outsider (+probably Emily Kaldwin; Dishonored series)

5) Steve Grant Rogers & Bucky Buchanan Barnes (Marvel)

6) Tony Edward Stark & Peter Benjamin Parker (Marvel)

7) Handsome Jack & Rhys (Borderlands video game series)

8) Damon Salvatore & Elena Gilbert (TVD Books & a tv show)

9) Batman & Joker (in every universe, really)

10) Adam Jensen x Francis Pritchard (Deus Ex video game series)

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

I believe it didn't hit me before Spider-Man: Homecoming. Civil War was about Steve & Bucky for me, but when I saw that growing up Peter with Tony, their dynamic, chemistry. Tom & Robert are really just like that.

2. Have you ever read a fanfic about 2?

Lmao. I've read like 50% of the tag on AO3, I wrote my own & started a few wips on them. They are amazing. Plus, with that shitty canon? We didn't get enough of them & they deserved better, so it's only logical to save yourself with fanfiction.

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screen saver/profile picture/tumblr screen saver?

I was living with The Outsider icon on my twitter & tumblr. That one is still my Google profile picture I believe. Don't remember about having an icon with the two of them. Also had The Outsider as my lockscreen on my smartphone for a while.

4. If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

Funny how it fits canon, lmao. Rhys literally tried to erase Jack's AI in TFTBL, so I guess another day on Pandora, nothing new. They torture each other, they kiss each other, they kill other people in the process. It'll be fiiine.

5. Why is 1 so important?

I love them since the first time I met them, which was much more than 10 years ago, I don't even remember when. At some point they were the reason I was waking up & forcing myself to eat just to read more fanfiction & feel something. Even if I was drowning in pain (I was extremely depressed), it was still something. I read every fic I could find at that time. The depression that Harry went through, all these feelings, his love for Sirius. I was living through it, I could relate.

I'm currently drowning in these two again, though in a much healthier & happier state. I see their flaws & I know as much as I can. I see them differently as an adult. They saved me, they keep being my number one, I still consider making a tattoo of Padfoot/Sirius or of both Harry & Sirius together. I have many headcanons, ideas, I write fics about them. They are everything, you see? They were my choice when there was nothing, no one. They are HOME.

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

Both. There goes the dynamic of Jack & Rhys: torture, fighting, flirting, a lot of trauma. I'd definitely say that they are wild and comical sometimes, but they are definitely serious. With the Asylum, the mental health issues. There is so much more to it, the complexity of their relationship. The struggle of loving who you probably shouldn't (but hey, when does it work like that?) Thinking about Tettlate's Batman, about Batman: Europa & how Joker was: "You must be crazy, putting me in charge of the plan, letting me decide. Okay, well..."

Nah, they are entertaining, but this is a serious ship.

7. Out of all the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

Are you kidding me? They are all the definition of CHEMISTRY. I'd say 5, but then go 2, 6, 7, 8. Come on. I'm not choosing. Most of they are WILD.

9. How many times have you read/watched the 10’s fandom?

The fandom itself? Idk. I found one of my favourite artists through this fandom. If it's about the characters themselves, I played the first game with the DLC from start to beginning, looking around every corner. Spent more than 60 hours in there. Watched a second game (my laptop can't run the game) and the DLC (obviously), since Francis is in the DLC & not in the main game. I have a tag for them on tumblr, I read fanfiction, I tried to write my own. I still follow Elias & want a third game. Elias liked my tweets about Adam and Jensen being an actual couple a few times. I'd say I interacted with all of this a lot? Still do, actually.

10. Which ship has lasted the longest?

5. Best friends since childhood, fought & died for each other, still found their way back to each other. "It would break your Captain's heart, to see what they did to you." That only the MENTION of Steve can pull Bucky out of this brain washing(ed?) state, distract him in the middle of a fight. When Steve died in the comics because of Sharon & Tony sent Natasha to take Steve's shield from Bucky because even Tony knew how much Steve means to Bucky. And Bucky was like: "Oh, I see what he did. Not happening!" Fought Natasha (that is his ex in the comics) & kept going for Steve's sake.

Well, you see the point, I can go on and on.

11. How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

They're not actually canon so none? They had a few fights: In Civil war (the comics), in Homecoming (the movie).  That only means that they’ve got history & love each other.

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

As fierce Grace is, they wouldn't stand a chance against Damon & Elena. Those two had to deal with worst thing than brainless stupid zombies. On the other hand, if there were no alive humans to drink their blood... It's either an animal diet that Damon hates so much or I don't know? Still, they're faster & more powerful. Their bodies have advantage of healing the wounds as well.

13. Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

From some people, yeah. Don't tell Athena, don't tell Vaughn, don't tell Fiona. Though Rhys wasn't very subtle about it & Jack just doesn't give a fuck. You will probably end up dead if you disagree or bore him, or if you're useless.

"I can take you to the top, but you gotta know where the top is" & Rhys doesn't tell anybody until Jack makes him the President for like whole 20 minutes lol.

Fiona & Sasha: "This can't be happening." Sure it can, darling.

14. Is 4 still together?

I have a headcanon about The Outsider finding Emily & Corvo after Billie frees him from the Void. He doesn't have anybody & they are his only friends aside from a potential friendship with Billie. And if we don't consider TOTO dlc, they definitely are! The Outsider visits them both when they sleep & takes them to the void sometimes. How could he not?

15. Is 10 canon?

Not really but also sort of? Let's say that they really care about each other in canon, despite Adam pushing Francis away because of his trauma & fear that Megan caused him. :/

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

Can you imagine wizards fighting extremely powerful vampires? Superheroes with venom in their bodies that make them super strong with people that made a deal with the Devil himself (hi Le Bail)? 5000 y.o. God and his lover that share his powers and an augmented human protecting his tired IT guy? Combine mental health issues to that, Jack and Rhys with Batman and Joker. Corvo & The Outsider would probably slay them all as Corvo and Emily did in both games with entire islands, though it will still be a slaughter anyway.

17. Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5’s ship?

All the fucking time, lmaooo. I’m not even talking about it.

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

I feel like I already did with Steve & Bucky after many Marvel movies (we're not even mentioning Endg*me, I fucking died & was dead for full 4-5 months).

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr page?

I used to do that a few years back, but not anymore. There is not much content since the trilogy is finished.

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

1 already went through it & fandom lives, so I'd say maybe 7? Rhys will find a way to bring Jack back & they are both so wild. It’s what happened in canon anyway. Jack kidnapped Lilith & forced her to do Angel's job, so I'd like to see that witch try at first. Jack is an immortal bastard. <3

Now that I think about it, Corvo would also deal with her in seconds as she waits to curse them.

As a conclusion: no one breaks up forever, we're killing the witch.

I tag: @ianmillkovichgallagher​ & @aledbr​

Whoever else wants to join the game, please do.

#otp #me #tumblr #harry x sirius #delena #corvosider #rhack #tony x peter #batjokes #jensard #steve x bucky #ready or not #drakecest

[oforamuse]

told you that i missed you

'you and mickey are getting married!?'

or, the one where fiona had to find about ian's engagement through lip.

a missing phone call set somewhere between 10x11 and 10x12

ao3

Ian’s mid-limp towards the fridge when his phone rings in his pocket, and without bothering to check the caller ID, Mickey said he’d call him later when he’d left earlier, he answers and brings the device up to his ear.

‘You and Mickey are getting married!? ’

Ah fuck.  

He should’ve expected this.

‘Hey Fiona…’ Ian trails off, knowing where this conversation is most likely headed. He makes a mental checklist to prepare himself for the showdown that’s about to take place with his older sister, she’s never taken to being left out of things very lightly - which in her defense, didn’t happen very often given her being the head of the household for all of his life.

‘Don’t hey Fiona me, Ian Gallagher’ She practically spits out, dragging the emphasis on their second name with a clear underlying message of are you fucking kidding me, ‘Were you planning on telling me this anytime soon or was I supposed to find out you two were husbands at Thanksgiving or some shit?’

He pictures her fondly, hand on hip and the other one waving about, failing wildly to get her frustrated point across. It’s an image he saw so often throughout his childhood it’s almost comforting, warming.  

‘You planning on being home for Thanksgiving?’ Ian chimes back, hoping to buy himself some time to gather his thoughts, though he immediately knows she won’t take the bait as soon it falls out of his mouth.

‘Don’t change the subject, Ian’ It’s the same tone of voice she used throughout their childhood, the go brush your teeth it’s gone midnight or carl put that hammer down right now before you hurt someone, and for a moment he feels 12 years old and scolded.

The words hang there and he can feel her glare down the phone, like a laser beam marking his pale skin, it’s always felt that way. The classic 100% Fiona Gallagher certified ‘I’m unimpressed’ look, a look he’s definitely been on the receiving end of far too many times to count growing up.

‘I was- listen, it’s been a little crazy here recently, I was going to tell you. It just...slipped my mind I guess’ Ian defends himself quickly, juggling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he attempts to clear the kitchen table from this morning’s wedding planning session with Mick and Sandy. They left after a long conversation about the perfect table cloths, table cloths, to go to the tux shop downtown. He didn’t know there were so many different kinds of things to be thrown, music to be played, or chairs to choose from. It’s been overwhelming to say the least, and deep down still pretty scary, there’s a small nagging part of him worried that this might be a mistake but it’s rightfully overruled by the much bigger and louder part of him saying it will be worth it. Seeing Mickey happy, being happy himself, knowing they can finally just be happy together, will be worth it. Worth any amount of meetings over chairs, or flowers or whatever, he doesn’t really understand it, but he’ll do it.

It isn’t the marriage part, really, that freaks him out - he doesn’t think so at least. He knows he wants to marry Mickey, he knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. That’s never been the question, even when they were countries apart or failing to see other people, it was always there in the back of his mind for his future, the ideal. He’s nervous to take that final big leap, to solidify their relationship in front of the world and the law, like actual adults do. He’s seen so many marriages go wrong and it aches to think that they could end up like a statistic, after everything they’ve been through, they could end up just being part of a percentage of divorcees.

But, also, after everything they’ve been through, they may just be strong enough to beat the odds. He doesn’t really know the statistics for gay marriages anyway, specifically for guys, he assumes they must be slightly better, happier or some shit.

If they can make it through homophobic murderous dads, prison sentences and annoying twinks, they can make it through this.

His mind falls back to Fiona on the other end, her constant stream of failed relationships, marriages and almost marriages that littered his adolescent years. A lump forms heavily in his throat and he tries to swallow it back down, he never thought he’d be the first Gallagher kid to get properly hitched, and hitched successfully, because Fiona and Gus do not count.

‘Really Fiona, it’s been crazy here’ He tries again,

He’s not making some dumb excuse, with the last month of being broken up (but so not broken up) then going to engaged to wedding planning all within a few days, calling his older sister wasn’t top of his list.

Perhaps it should’ve been, he thinks, and Ian can’t help it but his stomach rocks with a wave of guilt, crashing onto his mental beach. It sits there, sickeningly. Fiona used to know everything, be part of everything that was happening with the family, now she’s hundreds of miles away and worlds apart.

He knows it was a big deal for Fiona to move away from Chicago, away from them and everything she’s ever known, but that was her choice, he reasons, her choice to be a phone call away rather than just a bedroom. He doesn’t blame her though.

‘So I had to find out from Lip? And only, might I add, because he mentioned how you and Mickey were looking at flowers downtown so obviously I asked him why on earth you would need ‘em and turns out you guys are getting fucking hitched!’

He dumps their coffee mugs in the sink and watches the brown liquid swirl away before he resigns and moves his phone up to his ear.

‘I know I should’ve told you.’ He whispers, turning to lean against the counter top, wishing he didn’t feel so weird about talking about marriage with his older sister, ‘I just, I-I didn’t know how. It’s a really fucking long story, Fiona, and you’re not here…’

The guilt comes rushing back, like a wave crashing onto Ian’s shore. He grips the phone tightly.

Fiona sighs down the phone, and she goes silent, he pictures her running her hands through her hair like she often does when she’s exasperated or worried. His chest warms at the thought, he misses her, he really does.

There’s another beat.

‘I guess I should say congratulations?’ She says breaking the silence, almost posing it as a question. He can hear the hint of humour in her voice, playing it off as both a joke and a genuinely sincere statement.

‘Thanks’ Ian laughs lightly, quietly feeling relieved that she isn’t more upset.

The wave of guilt pulls back into the ocean.

His eyes flicker over to the fridge door opposite, where there’s still an old post-it note of Fiona’s reading ‘Liam. Dentist 12:20’ stuck above the handle. Her presence is everywhere in the house, it’s in the foundations, the walls and the floorboards. It’s her house more so than anyone else’s, a hell of a lot more than it ever was Frank’s, or Monica’s for that matter. Still, it stings to know that she isn’t here, physically.

That she wasn’t here when he got out.

‘How did it happen?’ She asks, her habit for gossip overriding her need to hang onto the sentimentalities.

‘How did what happen?’

‘You know, the engagement, who asked who and all that crap. Not sure how it works when it’s just two guys.’ She snorts, and Ian rolls his eyes fondly, taking comfort in knowing it was meant harmlessly.

‘Pretty much the same way as everything goes with Mick, fighting and making up. Except this time with added engagement’ The bad joke hangs for a moment before he hears Fiona bark out a laugh down the other end, he breathes out, relieved.

He knows his and Mickey’s relationship can be volatile, especially physically. They’re tough, their hearts are tough. How can they not be when they’ve grown up in this shithole, surrounded by violence and poverty all their lives, only to top it off with a light dusting of homophobic and or, alcoholic, parents. They’re a product of their environment, that’s for sure, and it works for them.

‘Not that I’m surprised or nothing, but you guys really got into a fight and then engaged? Sounds like you two’

He winces knowing that Fiona hasn’t always had the best opinion of Mickey or their relationship, but he can’t really blame her given that he kept her out of the most of it in the past. It’s always been easier keeping her, and Lip to be frank, at arm’s length when it comes to Mickey, especially in the last few years. Especially after almost dropping everything and running off with him to Mexico. He was close, he was so close.

He’s quietly hoping the distance between his two worlds will finally change once they officially become family.

‘Nah, I beat down Mick’s date and then, I asked him to marry me.’ He smirks at the memory, sure it was childish to have gone after Byron the way he did but the guy had been pissing Ian the fuck off and he was so fucking bored of playing games with Mick. Plus, no one gets to talk shit about his guy.

‘Mickey’s date?’ She asks, her voice distorted with confusion and rightfully so. She’s missed a lot in the last few weeks, heck, Ian’s been having trouble keeping up with it all and he’s here. He can’t even remember the last time he spoke to Fiona longer than a few minutes except down the tinny prison phone - they must’ve talked when he got out of prison, right?

It dawns on him quickly that he doesn’t think they’ve had a proper conversation since he got out of prison, weeks ago. It sits in his stomach, distastefully. That’s the longest they’ve gone without proper communication since he ran away when he was 16.

‘It’s a long story Fiona’ He sighs, throwing a glance over to the stairs, wishing she’d walk down them this moment, ruffle his hair like she used to then crack open a beer with him.

‘When’s the ceremony?’

‘We’re thinking the next few weeks maybe, Mickey’s really getting into the wedding planning.’

‘Mickey Milkovich is enjoying planning a wedding? That I would like to see!’ She laughs, ‘but jeeze, a few weeks? That’s pretty soon, why rush?’

‘Terry Milkovich paid us a visit cause he’s mad as shit. Shoutin’ the street down and pulling out his gun. It upset Mick so he’s taken to use the wedding as a chance to torture him, I guess he’s hoping he drops dead from his gay son being happy or some shit.’ Ian explains, his hands gesturing in ways that Fiona can’t obviously see. God, Ian should’ve killed the bastard back when they were kids because they deserve a break. Realistically, he knows he couldn’t do it, but fuck, he wishes Terry had gotten stabbed or something in prison the first few times round, it would’ve saved everyone a lot of grief. Himself included.

‘No chance i’ll be able to make it then, I guess…’ Fiona says sadly, though Ian can tell there’s a small attempt to hide the tinge in her voice. She sniffles and the guilt threatens to crash back.

‘I guess not’

Ian thumbs at his engagement ring whilst the two of them hang onto the silence, unsure of where to move forward from here.

‘You happy?’

‘Yeah, yeah I am’ Ian affirms, and he is, he’s really fucking happy. He didn’t think he’d ever get to have this, especially not with Mickey.

‘You gonna be Mr Milkovich?’

‘Fuck off’

‘You guys talked about it?’ She asks, and he can tell this one is a genuine question, whether or not Ian is going to shed the Gallagher name once and for all.

‘Nah, I figured we’ll get round to it after the gold chiavari chairs or something’

‘The gold what?’

‘Don’t ask’ he begs, he’s heard enough about chairs and all that for a lifetime.

‘I’m happy for you’ She says after a few moments, and his heart warms. He imagines her throwing her arms around his shoulders and bringing him in for a tight hug, locked and safe.

‘I wish you could come.’ He whispers, his eyes stinging, his thumb rubbing at his band. He does, he really wishes his big sister could be there to see him and Mickey beat all the odds.

‘I know’ Her voice cracks ever so slightly and Ian aches at the thought of being the one who caused it, ‘I’m sorry I’m not gonna be there’.

‘Not your fault’ Ian sighs, and it isn’t. She needed to get out.

‘Yeah’ She sniffs and Ian has to bring his free hand up to wipe his damp eyes, ‘I want pictures’

‘I’ll have Debs send you some’ Ian says wetly, he’s pretty certain Mickey has even organised a photographer. There’s some rustling on the other end and he can hear someone call out Fiona’s name in the background, it’s muffled but distinct.

‘Ah shit, I’ve got to go.’ She groans, and Ian figures it’s probably for the best. Someone’s bound to be home soon and he knows there will be a lot of questions if he’s found all teary eyed in the kitchen.

‘Okay’ It’s all he can manage.

‘I love you, and I’m happy for you.’ She says, ‘Tell Mickey I’m happy for him too’

‘I will.’ He replies, ‘I love you’

There’s a shuffle, then the line clicks and goes dead.

He hangs against the counter, cradling the phone in both hands, cradling the connection with his sister. He realises she didn’t even ask him anything about prison, or the fact Mickey’s out too. He wonders how much his other siblings talk to her, does Lip keep up with her regularly? It’s hard to imagine with him having to balance everything with Fred.

His phone chimes, he glances down.

3:39pm: MICKEY

‘picked out the tuxes. gonna look so fuckin good.’

God, if fifteen year old Ian Gallagher could see him now. He shoots off a reply.

3:40pm:

‘can’t wait’

And he can’t.

#gallavich fic #gallavich #ian gallagher #fiona gallagher #shameless #shameless us #shameless fic

[freethemages]

Whar are you most afraid of & most excited for in DA4? Do you think we'll get to play as our Inkys again and if so, you stoked er nah?

Ooh excellent questions.

Okay so I’m most excited just to have more DA 😭 I’m hopeful they return closer to the dark fantasy roots with darker themes and more sauciness again.

But also to see where Solas goes next, and to see Tevinter. And to learn more about the Titans omg. And the origins of the Qunari. I basically want everything Kieran talks about to be explored/expanded upon.

I’m afraid of what they might do to some of my beloved characters. Particularly those they’ve thrown under the bus before *cough* Anders *cough*. I want Cullen to be left alone to live happily because the man needs a break. Though a lil cameo would be nice. I’d love to see Anders but I also would rather them leave him out of it that fuck with him. I want Alistair to find out who Fiona really is, though I don’t think that will happen given one or both are dead in many world states. I’m also kind of worried they’ll continue pushing us into supporting the chantry, because... no.

I’m not sure how I feel about the Inky. I feel very connected to him (mine are all men) and it does feel like it’s their story to be continued, but I’m not sure how they would do it in a good way that makes sense. Like Cullen, they could do with a break lol. I would hope at the very least they make a cameo. It wouldn’t make sense for them not to be involved somehow.

I’m hopeful that they fix the combat to be somewhere between DA2 and DAI. And return the specialisations they took and also allow multiple specialisations again.

They had better give me more Dorian, for Andraste’s sake.

Also I want some Maevaris!

I’m also hopeful that I can VA in it lmao if only...

#da4 #da4 hopes #dragon age #dragon age 4 #ask #answered #me #tris talks

[alexisrosemullens]

you are the one (designed for me)

Summary: Everyone has a timer that countdowns until you meet your soulmate. When you meet them, it turns into an infinity sign. The Gallaghers have bad luck with their soulmates, especially Ian whose soulmate left when he needed him the most.

Chapter One: time is moving slow

Chapter Two:  My mind runs away to you   

The next few weeks, Ian isn’t sure what they are doing. Ian continues going to the Alibi and hanging out with Mickey during his shift but instead of going home, he goes home with Mickey. In the morning, he sneaks out and heads back to his place before Fiona or the kids notice he’s gone. 

They become closer and Ian really thinks something could happen between them. He hasn’t had a connection like this in so long, everything just feels right. But he’s afraid. Mickey doesn’t like talking about his soulmate and is closed off when Ian tries to bring it up. He’s worried that he’s jumping into this too fast.

One morning while Ian is getting ready to leave and head back home, Mickey tries to pull him back.

“I have to leave,” Ian hums, leaning into him. “Fiona will be up soon and notice I’m gone.”

“Come on, man, just a little longer.”

Ian grins, kissing him. He slowly pulls away and climbs back out of bed. He hears Mickey make a small noise almost like a hum and a sigh. Ian grins, buttoning up his shirt. “Do you have to work this weekend?”

“Nah, V let me off so I can spend all of it with Yevgeny,” Mickey says. 

“That’s good.”

Ian sits back down on the bed and grabs his shoes to pull them on. He feels Mickey’s eyes on him as he ties his shoes.

Mickey clears his throat. “You uh want to come over and hang out with me and the kid?”

Ian stops and turns around, looking at him. “Wait, really?”

Mickey nods. “Yeah, you were really good with him.”

Ian grins and nods. “Yeah, okay. I just have to figure out what to tell Fiona. I think she has to work most of the weekend.”

“Are you still pretending to go to that dumb single’s group?”

“Nah, Fiona knows I quit. Lip doesn’t know yet but I think he figured it out.”

Mickey rolls his eyes. “Doubtful.”

“Hey! He’s my brother.”

“Still a dick.”

Ian shrugs in agreement. Mickey’s not wrong. He looks down at his watch and jumps up. He kisses Mickey on the cheek. “I really have to go. Text you later!”

Ian easily sneaks into the Gallagher house. No one is awake yet so Ian starts breakfast. He hears movement upstairs when he's almost done so he starts another pot of coffee. 

“Morning,” Fiona greets, stumbling into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Ian hands her a mug full of the new brewed pot.

Fiona mumbles a thank you and takes a large sip. “Hmm, that hits the spot.”

Ian chuckles, taking a small sip of his mug.

“You’re up early again,” Fiona says, looking around the kitchen. “And you made breakfast.” She stops and looks at him, narrowing his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been waking up early. Thought you guys would like some breakfast”

Fiona shakes her head. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Fiona snorts. “Cut the bullshit, Ian. I’m your sister. I know you. I partially raised you. You’re seeing someone and I want to know who. Is it someone from single’s group? Is that why you stopped going?”

Ian shakes his head. He starts plating breakfast, trying to ignore Fiona’s stare and prying. 

“Did you go back to support group and find someone there? Ooh, is it Mickey?”

Ian turns around to face her in shock, his eyes wide. “How? H-how did you?”

Fiona squeals. “It is Mickey! I was just taking a chance with that one!”

More movement starts upstairs. Ian looks up at the ceiling then back at Fiona. He lowers his voice in case one of the kids could hear them. “How did you figure it out?”

Fiona rolls her eyes. “Carl mentioned he came by a few weeks ago, after you helped him out with Yevgeny.” She grins, bouncing slightly on her toes. “I didn’t know Mickey was gay. But I thought he was married to that Russian whore?”

Ian shrugs. “We haven’t talked about that. This is new, Fiona, so stop freaking out. I don’t know what we are yet.”

“Ooh,” Fiona grins.

“Stop,” Ian glares at her and turns back to fixing breakfast.

Fiona giggles. “I’m just messing with you, monkey.”

Ian turns back around to glare at her use of his nickname. “Really? Monkey? Come on, Fi.”

Fiona just continues laughing, ignoring Ian’s glare. She starts getting lunches ready while Ian finishes plating breakfast and setting it on the table.

“So, um,” Ian says after a few minutes of silence. “Mickey invited me over this weekend to hang out with him and Yevgeny.”

Fiona stops what she’s doing and looks at him, her arms crossing. “That sounds serious.”

“I know and so I was wondering what your schedule was this weekend?” Ian asks, his eyes hopeful as he gives his sister a smile. “Do you need me or can you handle it?”

Fiona grins, slapping his arm. “Go! Have fun! Don’t worry about me.”

“But, Fi,”

“Ian, go. Go try and live your life without your soulmate. I’m okay, really,” Fiona promises.

“Are you though?” Ian asks, moving to sit down on the barstool. “You went to support group and went out with that one guy. I never saw you go out anymore. You’ve barely gone out in seven years, Fi. I thought we were going to move on.”

Fiona sighs, leaning against the counter. “Look, you weren’t with your soulmate long. I mean, yeah, three years is a lot but that was when you were getting sick and I know you don’t remember much. I was with Jimmy/Steve for eight years. He helped me raise you kiddos. We lived together for almost five years, here in this house. Him leaving almost broke me. It’s going to take me a lot longer than a few dates to get over him.”

Ian reaches over and grabs his sister’s hands, rubbing her palms. “I know, Fi, but throwing yourself into work and this house isn’t going to help. We said we would try to be happy for Liam. Remember?”

Fiona nods, her eyes shining. 

“Ow! Carl!”

Debbie’s loud scream ruins the moment and Fiona pulls her hands away, wiping the tears from her eyes. She gives Ian a look but Ian shakes his head. Fiona grins wickedly and holds her hand out for a game of rock, paper, scissors. Two games later, Ian is upstairs, breaking up a fight between Debbie and Carl.

After Ian’s shift, he heads over to Mickey’s. His hands are sweating and he doesn’t know whether to go in or knock on the door. He decides to knock, figuring that is the safest option. Mickey opens the door and grins.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” Ian grins back, nodding at the towel thrown over Mickey’s shoulder.

“Kid wanted some Russian dish Svetlana makes. I have no idea what I’m doing. I ordered pizza as a backup,” Mickey says. He looks over his shoulder then kisses Ian quickly on the cheek before letting him in.

Yevgeny is sitting on the living room surrounded by Legos with the TV on. He looks up when Ian walks in and gives him a funny look.

“Yev, you remember Ian, right?” Mickey asks. “He watched you while I was working and helped you when you were sick.”

Yevgeny’s face lights up. “Yeah! Do you want to play Legos with me? I’m building a castle.”

Ian shrugs off his coat, placing it on the hook by the door. “As long as there are dragons.”

“Duh,” Yevgeny answers in a serious matter. He pats the floor with the least amount of Legos and Ian takes a seat next to him.

The rest of the night goes great. Yevgeny talks Ian’s ears off and forces him to watch a kid show after dinner. Ian doesn’t mind and sits through the weird show quietly. Yevgeny falls asleep during the next episode of the show and Mickey carries him to bed. When he gets back, Ian is putting on his jacket and hat.

“Where are you going?” Mickey asks.

“Home. You have Yevgeny tonight. Didn’t think you would want me to stay the night,” Ian says, zipping his jacket up.

“That’s stupid. He’s four. He doesn’t really understand what’s going on.”

“What about your ex?”

Mickey rolls his eyes. “Really? You’re bringing up my ex?”

Ian shuffles his feet, looking down.

“Take your jacket off, man. Stay awhile.”

“Your family’s fucking ridiculous,” Mickey laughs, handing Ian the cigarette they’re sharing. Mickey decided not to chance Yevgeny hearing anything so they ended up watching a movie and talking in Mickey’s bed. “How can you put up with two teenagers and an eight year old under one roof.”

Ian chuckles, leaning his head against the wall. “The bad thing is, that wasn’t the most Debbie thing she’s ever done.”

“She’s done something worse than faking a pregnancy to get a guy to date her?”

“Yep, she stole a baby once.”

Mickey stops laughing and turns to Ian, his eyes wide. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Nope. She was 10 and bored so she lured a toddler out of a birthday party with a candy bar,” Ian told him, handing the cigarette back over to Mickey. “Lip came up with this grand plan and we were able to return the kid, making it look like Debbie found him. Debs got enough money from it that she bought a water heater for the house.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Ian laughs at Mickey’s reaction, bumping his shoulder against his. “Hey, Mandy told me stories about you and your brothers so I know you have crazier ones.”

Mickey groans. “I do not want to talk about those days or my idiot brothers.”

“Come on, Mick,” Ian whines. “I told you several stories from my childhood. You haven’t told me anything.” 

“That’s bullshit. You refuse to talk about your teenage and recent years.” 

Ian glares at him. “So do you.”

They both stare at each other for a long time before Ian averts his eyes. His mind is racing and wants to ask Mickey what they are but he’s afraid that he’s going to scare Mickey off. Fuck it, he thinks. It’s time to bite the bullet. 

“Okay, how about we talk about what we are instead? Cause I for one want to know if we’re dating,” Ian finally says.

“Wow, you don’t hold anything back, do you?”

“Come on, Mick.” 

Mickey takes a long drag of his cigarette before answering. “Fuck, I don’t know. I’ve only been with one other guy before my father ruined my life. Then after he died, Yevgeny was here and I didn’t have time to sleep much less go out.” 

Ian reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it. “Okay, so let’s go out and figure this out.”

“Yeah?” Mickey looks over, trying to hide the smile that forming on his face. 

“Yeah.”

They figure out pretty quickly they both enjoy going out. By the third date, Ian asks the question again and Mickey agrees that they are dating. They don’t tell anyone at first. It’s Fiona that figures out they’re dating first. Ian waits for her to say something but she just smiles and pats him on the cheek. Debbie figures it out next and she doesn’t stop squealing and hugging them. Ian has to physically pull her off Mickey. Carl and Liam just kind of accept it when Mickey starts coming around more and more, neither one of them caring too much. Lip surprises Ian the most when he finds out. He just crosses his arms and nods at Mickey, not saying anything about it. 

Mickey slowly becomes a constant presence in the Gallagher house. The only time he isn’t over is when he has Yevgeny for the weekend but even then he sometimes shows up. A few months into their relationship, Fiona decides she wants to have a big family dinner and invites Mickey and Ella. When Ian tells Mickey, he laughs and refuses but after some convincing from Ian, he reluctantly agrees.

The night of the dinner, Ian picks Mickey up. He grumbles the whole way to the Gallagher house. Ian just laughs at him and squeezes his hand when they make their way up to the house.

“Hey, hey!” Ian says when they walk in the door. 

Liam looks up from the TV and smiles. “Hey, Ian! Hey, Mickey! Fiona said dinner will be ready soon.”

Ian leans on the couch, looking at the TV. “What are you even watching?”

Liam shrugs. “I was just flipping through. It’s about a dead guy.”

Ian hums. “Fiona in the kitchen?”

Liam nods, focusing back on the TV. Ian ruffles his hair then motions Mickey to follow him in the kitchen. Fiona turns around when she hears them, her face lighting up with a smile. 

“Hey, Mickey! You made it!” she grins, tossing her towel over her shoulder then walking over to them, pulling Mickey in for a hug.

Mickey tenses and slowly pats her back until she lets go. Ian chuckles, bumping his shoulder against Mickey’s.

“Need any help, Fi?” Ian asks. 

“Nope, everything’s ready. We’re just waiting for Lip and Ella to get here,” Fiona answers. “But thanks, sweetface.”

Ian groans at the nickname. Mickey smirks at him, mouthing the nickname with raised eyebrows. “Really, Fi? Can’t you drop the nicknames?”

Fiona furrows her eyebrows then her eyes widen when she realizes her slip. “Shit, I’m sorry sweet-, I mean, fuck. I can’t help it.”

Ian just rolls his eyes. “I know.” He walks out the kitchen with Mickey following. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” Mickey smirks, making sure to pop the p. “Sweetface.”

Lip and Ella arrive shortly after and the house gets loud. Fiona has Lip and Ian move the dining room table to the living room and finds two extra seats for Ella and Mickey. As soon as the food is on the table, the Gallaghers dig in, leaving Ella and Mickey in the dust. Ella doesn’t seem to mind and just takes whatever is passed to her. Mickey on the other hand just watches until Ian notices. Ian grabs the mashed potato bowl out of Carl’s hand with a loud “Hey!” in protest and hands it to Mickey. 

“If you don’t fight, you won’t get anything,” Ian whispers. 

Once food is on their plates, everyone starts talking over each other, trying to catch each other up. Ian places his hand on Mickey’s thigh and squeezes it in reassurance. 

“So, Mickey, how’s Yevgeny? Did I say that right?” Fiona finally turns to him after Lip’s finishes his boring story about college.

Mickey nods. “Yeah, that’s right. You can call him Yev. Everyone does.”

“That’s so much easier to say,” Fiona says. “He’s four, right?”

“Yeah,” Mickey answers, scratching his eyebrow. “He turns five in May. Starts kindergarten in the fall.”

“It’s so much easier when they start school. You don’t have to find someone to watch them for eight hours a day and by the time they get home, they are tired and ready for bed,” Fiona says in a dream like state as she imagines the first day of school. “I was there when all these kiddos started kindergarten. Remember just like it was yesterday.” 

Debbie and Carl groan as Lip rolls his eyes. 

“Great, here she goes,” Debbie cringes. “Now she’s going to cry. I recommend you run now, Mickey.”

“Well, I’m sorry for getting emotional!” Fiona says. “Liam was the easiest and the hardest. Ran straight to the teacher and didn’t look back. I cried all the way to work then got sent home because I cried when a customer ordered a burger.” She grins at Liam. “Debbie cried everyday for a week until she finally found a friend. That was a nightmare.”

“Fiona,” Debbie whines. “Do you have tell Ella and Mickey all of our stories? Just tell them what Lip and Ian did.” 

Fiona sucks in air between her teeth and closes one eye as she tries to remember. “Let’s see. I was about 11 when Lip went to kindergarten. No, 10. I was 11 when Ian started school. Monica was still pregnant with Debs and I think she was actually at home for once. I remember because I had to drop Ian off at daycare then Lip, so I woke up extra early. Both of them were so cranky.” She winks at Lip and Ian and both of them groan. “After I dropped Ian off, I walked Lip to the elementary school. The teacher was so confused when I showed up until another teacher whispered in her ear. So she motioned Lip in. Lip just walked in but a week later refused to go back. I had to bribe him with pancakes until he caved. I found out later it’s because he was bored and his teacher recommended he skip a grade but I never got the letter.”

“I could have been done with college by now,” Lip teases her with a glare. Fiona flips him off causing Lip to laugh and throw his hands up. “Okay, okay, I blame Frank.” 

Fiona grins. “With Ian, Debbie was maybe six months old?  Monica was pregnant with Carl and would come and go.” She turns to Lip and furrows her eyebrows. 

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Lip agrees. 

“So the morning Ian started school, Debbie kept me up all night screaming. I remember Frank was passed out on the couch and didn’t move the whole night. I was exhausted and didn’t want to drop him off. I asked Lip if he could watch Ian and make sure he got into his classroom safely.” She stops her story and nods at Ian. “But you cried when I said that. You wrapped your little arms around me and refused to let go until I said I would go. So I strapped Debbie in a stroller and we took off. As soon as the teacher smiled at you, you ran into the classroom.”

Ian groans, burying his head in hands. “Jesus, Fiona.”

“Carl just shrugged and walked in. Then he got sent home a few hours later for stealing a kid’s lunch,” Fiona finishes her story. She just had to include them all.

“Nice,” Carl says, throwing his hand up for either Debbie or Liam to high five him. Debbie slaps the back of his head instead. 

“Debbie!” Fiona, Lip, and Ian all scold at the same time. Debbie just rolls her eyes. 

“Let’s hope Yev has an easy transition like Liam,” Fiona turns back to Mickey. 

“Uh, yeah. I hope so,” Mickey answers, shifting in his seat.

Ian gives Fiona a pleading look. She gets his sign and turns to Ella, asking about school.

After dinner, the boys move the table back and everyone starts cleaning up. Fiona refuses to let Ella and Mickey help and sends them into the living room. Mickey just sends Ian a “help me” look but Ian quickly kisses his cheek and pushes him into the living room.

A few minutes later, Ian appears with a piece of pie. He sits in between Ella and Mickey and pops a bite into his mouth. Mickey eyes the pie. 

“Yes, Ian, I would love some pie. Thanks for the offer,” Mickey says sarcastically, trying to reach of Ian’s pie.

Ian moves it out of his reach, hitting Ella. “Oops, Sorry, El.”

“Not the worst thing that’s happened to me in this house,” Ella responds, rubbing her head. “Carl gave me lice, remember?”

“Right.”

“You seriously aren’t going to offer pie?” Mickey asks, watching Ian take another bite. 

“Fiona likes to cut it and bring it,” Ella tells him, nodding at the doorway.

And she’s right, Fiona is standing in the doorway with two plates. “Ian, I told you that we were eating dessert in the kitchen. Debbie wants to tell us something.”

“Sorry, Fi,” Ian answers, his mouth full of pie.

Fiona rolls her eyes and motions for Ella and Mickey. Mickey stands up and gladly takes a plate of pie out of her hand. He stands awkwardly in the kitchen next to Ella and watches Fiona, Lip, and Ian move seamlessly around each other and everyone else in the kitchen.

“This is weird,” he mumbles. 

Ella shrugs. “You get use it. The three are a unit.” 

“I think I might have met my soulmate,” Debbie announces to the room. She’s standing in the middle of kitchen, her eyes falling to her older siblings.

Fiona, Lip, and Ian stop what they’re doing and turn to look at her. Mickey puts his bite of pie down and turns to Ella, both their eyes wide.

“What?” Fiona asks. “You met your soulmate?”

Debbie shrugs. “I mean, I’m not sure because I haven’t taken off the cover but I can feel it, you know?” 

“I didn’t think you felt anything when you met your soulmate,” Carl mumbles, his mouth full of pie. “Of course most people don’t cover up their countdowns.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Fiona, Lip, and Ian tell Carl at the same time. Carl rolls his eyes at them.

Ella raises her eyebrows at Mickey as if to say “I told you so.” 

Debbie glares at Carl and turns back to her older siblings. “Do you feel anything? When you meet them?”

Fiona leans against the sink, running her hands through her hair. She looks at the tattoo on her wrist and sighs. “Like a spark or anything? No. More like butterflies in your stomach. I was so nervous over Jimmy/Steve.”

“Really?” Debbie perks up at the mention of butterflies. “You never told me that.”

Fiona shrugs. “You were young when I met him. You probably don’t remember. I didn’t want him over here for the longest. I was ashamed back then.”

“But you did bring him over and he lived here for a while,” Debbie says. “He was fun.”

“Yeah, he gave me an X-Box,” Carl adds.

Fiona nods. “He was but he was also dangerous and not good for me. For us.”

“Did you feel something when he left?” Debbie asks.

“Debs,” Lip interrupts. He’s leaning against the counter by the fridge, a towel in his hands, watching his sister with worried eyes. He crosses his arms and turns to give Debbie a look. 

“No, Lip,” Fiona stops him. “They’re old enough now. They’ve seen it all. They should know. God knows I wish I knew. And Ian knew.” She takes a deep breath and continues. “I felt a deep ache when he left. The pain was almost too much to bare but I did. I got up every day because of you and Carl and Liam. And Lip and Ian.” She nods at them. “I loved Jimmy/Steve but my love for you guys overcame the pain. And it took me a long time to realize I didn’t need him. I just needed my family.”

“Wow,” Debbie whispers. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to,” Fiona mumbles, looking down. “I’m always going to protect you.”

Debbie turns to Lip and Ian. “What about you two? Did you feel anything?”

“I uh-don’t really remember a lot. Those weren’t really good years for me, Debs,” Ian says, looking down at his feet. He shifts his weight from one foot to the next. He can feel Mickey get closer to him.

“Oh, Ian, I didn’t.”

“No, Debs, I know,” Ian looks back up and smiles at her. “The past is in the past. I’m good now.” He looks over at Mickey and smiles at him. Mickey smiles back, nodding at him.

“I was scared,” Lip speaks up, steering the conversation to him. Ian gives him a grateful smile. “I didn’t know how it was going to work with Ella. I watched Monica leave Frank at such a young age and I saw what it did to him. I watched Jimmy/Steve leave Fiona and how it almost destroyed her. I had just watched Ian lose his soulmate and I was scared. I didn’t think I could handle it happen to myself but then Ella talked and all my fears just vanished.” He walks over to Ella and she grins, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Aww,” Debbie grins. “Now that’s like the stories Fiona use to tell us when we were little.”

“Debs, I’m the rare one in the family that is still with their soulmate,” Lip continues. “Gallaghers don’t have good luck so you need to be careful.”

“You know, you could take off your covering and see if they are your soulmate,” Carl speaks up.

“Yeah but then that just the whole universe thing and my destiny. I want to take control of my destiny,” Debbie says. “I don’t need some dumb tattoo telling me that someone is my soulmate. What about what my heart says?”

Carl raises his eyebrows. “I think you've been reading too many feminist articles and books.”

Ian snorts, covering it up by burrowing his head in Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey tries to hide his smile. Debbie turns to Mickey, raising her eyebrows.

“What about you, Mickey? You found your soulmate, right? Did you feel anything?”

Ian feels Mickey stiffen and he lifts his head, looking at him. Mickey pulls away from Ian, biting his thumb nervously. “Uh, no. I didn’t feel anything.”

“What happened to your soulmate?” Debbie asks, leaning against the counter and placing her chin in her hands.

Mickey’s eyes widen. He glances at Ian before heading out the back door. Ian sighs, debating whether he should follow him. He gives Debbie a stern look as he walks to the back door.

“Don’t push him, Debs. If he wants to talk about it, he will,” he says before going outside.

He finds Mickey sitting on the steps, smoking a cigarette. Ian sits by him, grabbing the cigarette from him and takes a hit. Mickey glares at him and takes the cigarette back.

“Your sister is fucking nosy,” he mumbles, taking another hit.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Debbie doesn’t think before she speaks,” Ian says. 

Mickey shrugs. “Your fucking family, man. They’re intense.” 

“Yeah, they can be,” Ian agrees, throwing his arm around Mickey and rubbing his shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about your soulmate until you’re ready. Okay?”

Mickey sighs. “There’s not much to talk about. I don’t even know the guy’s name. Took off before I found out.”

Ian hisses. “Fucker.”

Mickey bows his head, twisting the cigarette between his hands. “What about you? You don’t like to talk about yours and sounds like your whole fucking family knows everything about you two, including his name..”

“Trevor,” Ian says. “His name was Trevor and I was with him for three years before he left me. That’s all you need to know.” 

Mickey nods. “Okay.”

They sit in silence, sharing another cigarette. Mickey finally looks up.

“Are we good to put this soulmate shit behind us?”

“Yeah, Mick, I think that’s a great idea.”

Mickey grabs Ian’s hand and squeezes it. “Your fucking family, man,” he repeats. “Fiona is a badass though. Raising all you.”

Ian laughs then nods. “She’s the strongest person I know.” 

“They’re going to take some time to get used to. I guess I need to get used to them, huh?” Mickey asks, turning to look at Ian. 

Ian processes his words then his face breaks into a grin. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Mickey grins, leaning into Ian.

The guy Debbie meets end up not being her soulmate. The guy shows her his countdown about an hour into their first date. She’s disappointed but they end up going out for a few dates. When he dumps her, Fiona and Ian are there with pizza and ice cream. 

Ian starts spending more weekends at Mickey’s. Yevgeny loves Ian and is so happy whenever he comes over. He still has no idea that Ian and Mickey are together. He tells Svetlana one day that Ian is always over but neither Ian and Mickey know until one morning Ian walks in Mickey’s kitchen to find Svetlana holding a knife.

“Uh, hi?” Ian greets, confused.

“You Ian?” Svetlana asks, twirling the knife in between her fingers.

“Yes.”

“Mikhailo and Evgeni asleep?”

“Yeah?” Ian raises his eyebrows and move past her to grab a piece of bread. He pops it in the toaster and turns back to her. “I have an early shift and I thought you were picking Yev up later?”

“We need to talk,” Svetlana says, sitting down and sitting the knife in the table.

Ian takes the bread out of the toaster and puts it on a plate. He sits down across from her with his toast and a jar of peanut butter. “Sorry, I have to eat something.”

“I do not care,” she glares at him. “Milkhailo has been through a lot. I will not have you break his heart.”

“I wasn’t planning on it?”

Svetlana nods to his right wrist. “And your soulmate?”

Ian moves his hand to hide it under the table. “You don’t have to worry about him.”

Svetlana narrows her eyes. “My Evgeni is involved now. If he comes back and you leave, I kill you.”

Ian is speechless, staring at her. She gives him a small evil like grin and is gone as quickly as she left. Ian stays at the table confused until Mickey walks in.

“Morning. I thought you had an early shift,” Mickey says, kissing his cheek before starting on breakfast.

“Yeah. Um, your ex was just here?”

Mickey turns around, raising his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Svetlana was here in the kitchen when I woke up and I think she threatened me?” 

Mickey scoffs and turns back around. “Yeah, that’s normal. She’s always doing that.”

“She stuck the knife in the table.”

“Fuck! Again? Damn it, Svet!” Mickey looks at the table, running his hand over it, looking for the mark.

“I’m so confused right now.”

Mickey rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry about her, man. She’s like that. She doesn’t mean anything.”

Ian gulps. “She sounded pretty serious, Mick.”

“I’ll deal with her. You better start getting ready or you’ll be late.”

Ian barely makes it into work on time. Sue raises her eyebrows at him when he rushes by to his locker but doesn’t say anything until he is changed and sitting on the bed of the ambulance. 

“Cutting it close, Gallagher,” Sue says, handing him a coffee.

“Yeah, sorry. Mickey’s ex appeared this morning and threatened me.”

Sue whistles. “Jesus.”

“Yeah, it was weird. Mick said not to worry about her but she sounded pretty serious.”

Sue slaps his shoulder. “Living without your soulmate is super dramatic.”

“Nah, being a Gallagher dating a Milkovich is,” Ian says, taking a sip of his coffee. His eyes widen at a thought. “Fuck! Mandy! We haven’t told Mandy.”

“Jesus, Gallagher, take you dramatics elsewhere.” Sue pushes him off the bed of the ambulance, rolling her eyes.

When Ian gets off, he calls Mandy and she screams in his ear for five minutes. She tells him that she is coming home as soon as she can. She arrives at Mickey’s apartment one week later. Yevgeny squeals when he sees her and jumps into her arms. 

The first night, Ian and Mandy stay up most of the night. Mandy tells Ian all about her adventures around the United States and trying to find her soulmate. She shows Ian her countdown and how little time she has left. Mandy left almost four years ago to try to find her soulmate faster. She has yet to find him any faster but has enjoyed exploring the country. 

Mandy stays for the rest of the summer. She watches Yevgeny on the weekends so Ian and Mickey can go out. She joins them for family dinners at the Gallaghers. Fiona welcomes her back with open arms and Debbie drags her away for boy advice. She connects with Ella almost immediately and the two tease Lip constantly. She catches up with Mickey and they talk for hours. When it’s time for her to live, Yevgeny sobs, Ian hugs her tight, and even Mickey hugs her. She cries and promises to come back as soon as she has found her soulmate.

Summer turns into fall. Ian spends more time at Mickey’s than his house. The only time he goes to the Gallaghers is when he has a night shift. When Mickey is at the Gallaghers, he forms this weird bond with Fiona. The two seem to get each other. Ian has caught Mickey texting with her on several occasions. 

Yevgeny starts school and Mickey hates that the kid walks straight into the classroom and doesn’t look back. Svetlana refuses to let Ian join them on his first day so Mickey shows him all the pictures on his phone later. Svetlana still hates Ian no matter what he does. Mickey tries to have a dinner in hopes they will get along but Svetlana ends up slamming a knife into the table and Mickey yells at her for ruining the table. Ian and Svetlana come to a mutual hatred after that.

Ian has been managing his bipolar disorder for almost six years. Mickey has yet to see Ian in a depressive or manic state since they started dating almost eight months ago. Ian knows it won’t last and only time will tell but he’s enjoying it will he can.

The depressive episode creeps on him as it turns colder. He can feel himself getting more tired and cranky. When Fiona asks him about it, he snaps then storms out of the house. At Mickey’s, he tries to hide it. He can sense that Mickey doubts him but he doesn’t say anything about it. He has heard Ian snap at Fiona and Lip too many times to even try to ask.

One afternoon during his shift, Sue sends him home. When he protests angrily, she calls Fiona. Fiona huffs when she picks him up. She tries to convince him to go to the clinic but he refuses. He storms up the stairs as soon as they get home and refuses to come down for dinner. 

The next morning, he doesn’t get up. He doesn’t feel anything except anger. Anger at himself. He should have seen this coming. He should know the signs now after six years.

“Ian?” He hears Debbie’s voice but he can’t speak. He feels his bed sink and a hand on his shoulder. “Fiona said to check on you. Do you need anything?”

He can’t respond. He hates that he’s doing this to his family. That he can’t force himself up. He hears Debbie sigh and feels his shoulder being squeezed.

“I’ll call Sue.” The bed creaks and the extra weight is gone. He hears Debbie quietly close the door.

Ian doesn’t know how much time passes. Debbie, Carl, and Liam come and go. They talk to him, squeeze his shoulder then leave. When Fiona appears next, Ian figures it’s the end of the day.

“Hey, sweetface,” she whispers. “I called Lip. He’s on his way. Do you want me to call Mickey?”

Ian hates himself even more. He’s not just hurting his family anymore. He’s hurting his boyfriend. He wants to tell her yes but he can’t. Instead, he sinks deeper into his pillow. He feels the bed sink again and hair tickle his neck.

Fiona doesn’t say anything. She just lays there beside him. Time passes again and the door creaks open.

“Hey,” Ian hears Lip whisper.

Ian feels Fiona shift and the hair is gone. “Hey.”

“I got supper for the kids. Liam’s scared. He keeps asking what’s going on. Debbie isn’t helping with her statistics.”

Ian’s anger at himself grows. His little brother is scared of him. He needs to get up. He needs show Liam that he’s okay. 

“I shouldn’t have left him here with Debbie.”

“I can take him to my place tonight. Unless you need me here.”

“No, I think it’s better if Liam goes with you. You can talk to him and try to explain it.”

“What about tomorrow? Debbie and Carl have school.”

“I’m taking off. I’m the manager now so they can go fuck themselves if they say anything.”

Ian hears Lip chuckle. There’s silence for a long time and Ian figures Lip left but then Lip speaks back up. “Did you call Mickey?”

“No. I don’t know how he’s going to react to this. What if he runs off like Trevor?”

“Mandy stayed. It can’t hurt to call.”

“Okay. Do you want to call him or me?”

Ian hears Lip snort. “You two have this weird friendship. I think you should.”

The extra weight leaves the bed. “Stay in here until I get back?”

“Fiona, Debbie said he didn’t move all day. He’s not going to try anything.” There’s silence again and weight back on the bed. “Go call Mickey. I’ll be right here.”

The door slowly closes. Ian feels his legs being pushed and he wants to kick Lip but he can’t. He hears Lip sigh and feels weight on his legs.

“You’re a stubborn fuck, you know that,” he hears Lip say. “I don’t want to make you feel worse but I told you so. Fiona did too. You have to start listening to us. If not us, you need to talk to Mickey and he can tell you when something is up.”

Ian still doesn’t say anything. Lip is right. He usually is. He hears the door slowly up and the weight is off his legs. 

“Mickey’s on his way. He has to drop Yev off with Svetlana. He wanted to bring him but I didn’t think that was a good idea.” He hear Fiona say. 

“Probably for the best. Don’t want to scare the kid.” There’s a pause. “I’ll stay here until he gets here.”

“Can you go downstairs and stop Debbie and Carl? Liam’s freaking out again and those two are not helping.”

“Yeah, I’ll bring Mickey up when he gets here.”

The door closes again and the bed sinks again. He feels Fiona’s hand on his shoulder and she starts rubbing. “Hey, sweetface, you can get past this. You always do.” He feels something on his shoulder. “We love you.” The extra weight is gone and she continues rubbing his shoulder. 

Ian doesn’t know how much time passes when the door opens back up. The bed shifts and he feels Fiona get up.

“What’s going on?” Mickey. He’s here. He showed up. He didn’t leave him.

“He’s having a depressive episode,” he hears Fiona explain. “Did Ian tell you about it?”

“Yeah, he explained it and Mandy told me how he was when he was diagnosed. Does he need to go to the doctor?”

He hears Lip snort. “Good luck getting him to leave the bed.”

“Lip!” Ian hears a slap and a ‘Fuck’ from Lip. “It’s not that easy, Mickey. He can still have an episode when his meds are working but we don’t know until we can get him to his doctor. And even if he has to get new meds, it could take a while.”

“How long are we talking?”

“Few weeks. A month or two,” Ian hears Lip add.

He hears Mickey cuss and the bed sinks. “What can I do?”

“Talk to him. Help him stay hydrated and go to the bathroom.”

There is silence and Ian wishes he could speak and tell Mickey that he’s okay. He feels a cold hand on his face. 

“I’m going to head out, Fi. Call me if anything happens.”

“I’ll walk you out. I need to tell Liam goodbye.”

The door closes again and the hand starts stroking his face . “I’m here, Ian. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ian squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block the tears.

Weeks pass or at least Ian assumes it’s been weeks and Mickey stays with him as much as he can. He only leaves when he has to work or go get Yevgeny. Ian feels awful for making him do this but can’t bring himself to get up. One afternoon, Fiona is with sitting him while Mickey goes to get Yevgeny. Ian is facing her today and listening to her read a ridiculous romance novel out loud.

Fiona scoffs when she gets to the love scene and slams the book shut. “I don’t know why I still read these things. It’s the same story line with different character names.”

“Because you need to get laid,” he mumbles.

Fiona gasps, poking him with her foot. “I liked it when you didn’t talk.”

Ian gives her a small grin. 

Fiona frowns, looking sorry immediately. “I know you hate when I ask but how are you feeling, sweetface?”

Ian tucks the blanket closer. “Okay. When’s Mickey coming back?”

“He should be back now.”

They sit in silence and Ian must have fallen asleep again because the next thing he knows, the bed is sinking and there is a body on top of his.

“Yev! I told you not to do that.”

The weight is gone and Ian shifts, opening his eyes. Yevgeny is right in front of his face, his eyes wide.

“Daddy says you’re sick,” he says.

Ian groans and looks up at Mickey. Mickey pulls Yevgeny back. “Sorry, he wanted to see you. Fiona and I didn’t think it was a good idea but he cried.”

“It’s okay. Yeah, Yev, I’m sick.”

“Why don’t you take some medicine?” Yevgeny asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“It’s not that simple, Yev,” Ian sighs. “But I’m getting better.”

“Do you need a hug? Hugs always make me feel better.”

“A hug sounds great, Yevy.”

Yevgeny grins and climbs up into the bed, snuggling closer to Ian. Ian hears Mickey make a small noise in protest but Ian just smiles at him, letting him know it’s okay. He closes his eyes and quickly falls back to sleep. When he wakes back up, Yevgeny is gone and Mickey is in his place. Ian sighs in contentment and snuggles closer to Mickey, burying his face in Mickey’s neck. 

It takes Ian another week before he starts feeling better. He gets up one morning and Mickey and Fiona take him to his doctor. After a long talk and few adjustments, Ian feels a little better. It takes him another week to get back on his feet. Mickey is there with him the whole time. He finally goes back to work and slowly starts feeling like himself.

"I'm sorry."

Mickey puts his phone down and looks down at Ian. It's been almost a month since Ian has gotten over his depressive episode. Fiona continues to keep a close eye on him and because of it, Mickey starts staying with him at the Gallagher house more and more. He only goes to his place when he has Yevgeny. Even though Mickey hates Ian's mattress, he doesn't complain. They are currently squished in Ian's awful, too small mattress. "For what?"

"That was my first episode since we started seeing each other," Ian continues. "I'm sorry I did that to you. I'm sorry you had to see me like that. And I know it's a lot to handle so I get it if you don't want to do this anymore."

Mickey rubs his eyes, silent for a moment. Ian watches him, his eyes wide. Mickey sighs and picks his phone back up, turning it to show Ian what's on the screen. Ian grabs the phone, sitting up to read. "'Soulmates and Bipolar Disorder'? Mick, why are you reading this?"

"Most articles about helping someone with bipolar has to do with soulmates," Mickey grumbles. "Figured it couldn't hurt."

"No, I-" Ian stops and looks at him. "I don't understand."

Mickey rolls his eyes and sits up to look in the eye. He grabs his face and kisses him. "Ian, I'm here in your loud childhood house with your nosy older sister, annoying teenage siblings, and your younger brother. I'm laying on your stupid, lumpy mattress that barely fits your tall ass. Your episode hit during the worst possible time with my son starting school yet I still fucking showed up. I'm not going anywhere. And don't fucking apologize for who you are."

Ian grins, pushing him down on the mattress that he hates so much and kisses him slowly.

Christmas and the New Year comes and goes. Ian changes shifts and starts studying for his paramedic exam. Mickey picks up more shifts at the bar to help with Yevgeny getting into private school. After a long, heated discussion with Svetlana, they realized public wasn't working for the kid. Ian and Mickey barely get to see other lately and when they did, they enjoyed the time together.

One cold morning, Ian and Mickey are in the kitchen eating breakfast. The house is empty and they are enjoying not only the rare silence but the rare time they have together now with their busy schedules. Mickey is teasing Ian over his small breakfast when the front door opens.

“Where’s my loving family?” Frank’s voice carries into the kitchen.

Ian rolls his eyes, mumbling under his breath about money and stupid Frank.

“Kids?”

Ian pales when he hears the other voice. He stands up slowly, watching Frank and Monica come into view.

“Ian!” Monica squeals, running into the kitchen and pulling him into her arms.

Ian slowly wraps his arms around her and whispers. “Hi, Mom.”

Frank ignores them, and pushes past them to start looking in the kitchen cabinets and draws. “Can you spare some cash?”

“Fuck off, Frank,” Mickey pipes up. No one has seen him in weeks and they really thought he might have died this time. Unfortunately, they weren’t that lucky.

Monica pulls away from Ian and looks at Mickey. She glances down at Ian’s right wrist and her mouth widens. “Oh.”

“Just a five would work. But $150 would be better,” Frank continues, opening up the fridge.

Ian rolls his eyes. “We don’t have any money, Frank.”

“That’s bullshit,” Frank turns to him, getting in his face.

“Frank!” Monica cries.

“Hey!” Mickey yells, standing up and yanking Frank back. “Get the fuck away from him.”

Frank immediately reacts, trying to punch Mickey. Mickey ducks and grabs Frank by the arms, pulling them behind his back. Monica screams, trying to pull Mickey off. Mickey gives Ian a look and Ian gives him a short nod. Mickey drags Frank out, ignoring Frank’s constant screaming.

“What the hell? Frank!” Monica cries. She turns to Ian and starts hitting his chest, yelling at him. Ian grabs her hands, forcing her to stop.

“We don’t have any money, Mom. You and Frank can’t have our money,” Ian yells, forcing her to look in his eyes. “You aren’t using it on drugs.”

“Ian, no.”

“Why are you here, Mom? Why are you here?”

“Can’t a mother just come see here children?”

Ian raises his eyebrows. “Really, Mom? You’ve been gone for five years this time.”

Monica sighs, sitting down at the table. She pats the seat next to her and Ian hesitantly sits down. Monica grabs his right hand and turns it around, looking at the zero tattoo. “That man, he isn’t your soulmate.”

Ian shakes his hand, pulling his wrist back. “You’ve met my soulmate, Mom. You know that time you tried to kill yourself in front of the sink? He was here.”

“What happened?”

Ian sighs, running his hand through his hair. “You really don’t remember?” Monica shakes her head. “He left because of my bipolar disorder. He didn’t like how it affected our relationship so he left.”

“Oh, baby,” Monica grabs Ian’s hand and squeezes it. “He’ll come back though. He’s your soulmate.”

Ian pulls his hand away. “I don’t want him back. I have Mickey.”

Monica sighs. “I’ve had other men and women besides Frank but they aren’t the same. They don’t give you the same feeling as your soulmate.”

Ian stands up, pushing his chair out from under him, causing it to fall. He clenches his fists, his face twisting in anger. “Then why the fuck do you leave him? If Frank is your soulmate, why do you keep leaving?”

“Cause Frank drives me crazy!”

Ian scoffs. “That doesn’t mean anything, Mom. If you love Frank like you say, you wouldn’t leave. You wouldn’t leave us .”

“Ian,” Monica reaches out, grabbing his hands. “You need to listen to me. Mickey will not give you the same joy as your soulmate. He will never make you feel whole. That’s why I keep coming back. I always think I can find someone that won’t drive me crazy like Frank but none of them make me feel the same.”

“Jesus Christ, Frank’s like a fucking cockroach,” Mickey mumbles, coming back inside. He looks around the kitchen, raising his eyebrows at Ian when he sees the chair knocked over and Ian standing over his mother.

Ian pulls away from Monica. “I have to get work. You should probably leave before Fiona or the kids get back,” he tells Monica. He turns away before Monica can say anything else. He can hear Mickey follow him and he turns around when he gets to the front door. “I have to go. Can you make sure she leaves?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mickey answers, crossing his arms. “You coming over tonight?”

Ian shrugs. “I’ll let you know before I get off, okay.”

Mickey nods, watching him leave.

After work, Ian heads straight home, calling Mickey and telling him that he’s tired. Mickey accepts it and lets it go. He lays in bed that night and thinks about everything Monica says. He knows he shouldn’t but his brain doesn’t listen and continues to play Monica’s words over and over.

Ian starts picking up even more shifts after that. He tells himself he isn’t avoiding Mickey but he knows he is. Mickey hunts him down and corners him one afternoon in the station, demanding to know what’s going on.

“We need the money so I picked up some extra shifts. It’s nothing,” Ian assures him, quickly pecking him on the cheek.

“Fine,” Mickey huffs. “Come over tonight?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

When Mickey leaves, Sue lets out a low whistles. Ian glares at her but she doesn’t say anything.

Ian has every intention of talking to Mickey that night but as soon as Ian opens Mickey’s door, Mickey is on him. After two rounds of sex and two plates of pizza bagels each, they sit up in Mickey’s bed, sharing a cigarette.

“Fuck, man, maybe you should work more often. Makes the reunions pretty fucking awesome,” Mickey grins, handing him the cigarette.

Ian hums, not saying anything. His mind his racing, going back to Monica’s words.

“Kid’s been wondering where you’ve been. He misses you,” Mickey says, taking the cigarette back. “Won’t stop bugging me about you.”

Ian laughs at the image of Yevgeny bugging Mickey about him. The five year old was known for his constant questions, driving Mickey insane. “Driving you insane?”

“The kid won’t shut up. He kept following me around.”

Ian laughs, leaning against Mickey. Mickey places his hand on Ian’s thigh, squeezing it. They sit in silence for a while. Ian stretches after a while and sits up. Mickey groans at the loss of contact, sitting up and watching Ian get dressed.

“Why don’t you stay?” he asks. 

Ian shakes his head. “Can’t. I have a double tomorrow.”

“I have the kid this weekend.”

“Mick, you have Yev every weekend,” Ian turns to him, grinning.

“Are you going to come over? Or am I stuck with him following me around all weekend?”

Ian hesitates, pulling on his shirt. Monica’s words start running through his head but then he sees Mickey’s face and can’t help but tell him that he’ll be there. He kisses Mickey quickly and heads out the door.

That weekend, Ian heads to Mickey’s apartment. He is greeted by Yevgeny jumping into his arms.

“Ian!” the boy squeals, hugging him around the neck. “We’re making pancakes!”

“Breakfast for supper?” Ian asks, setting him down. “That sounds like an amazing idea.”

“Come on!” Yevgeny takes Ian’s hand and tries to drag him into the kitchen.

Ian chuckles at the boy and lets him lead him into the kitchen. Mickey’s standing in front of the stove with a kitchen towel over his shoulder, flipping pancakes. He turns around and grins when he sees Ian.

“Hey, hope you like breakfast for supper. Kid here was begging for pancakes,” Mickey says.

Ian smiles, looking over. “Looks good.”

“Ian! Look what I drew!” Yevgeny tugs on Ian’s hand, trying to lead him to the table.

Mickey gives him a quick kiss and watches him go over to the kitchen table.

Later that night, after eating, Mickey goes to put Yevgeny to bed and Ian stands at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes. Mickey comes in a few minutes later and leans against the counter, watching him. Ian turns, giving him a weird look.

“What?” he asks.

Mickey shrugs, crossing his arms. “Nothing. Just like watching you.”

Ian rolls his eyes but grins. “Weirdo.”

Mickey chuckles, pushing off the counter. He goes up to stand by Ian, pushing him to the side so he can take over rinsing the dishes. They wash the dishes in silence and then dry and put the dishes away. After Ian puts the last dish away, he leans against the counter and places the towel over his shoulder. Mickey washes down the countertops, feeling Ian watching him.

“Now who’s the weirdo,” Mickey mumbles. He finishes his chore, throwing the washcloth in the sink. He walks over and stands in front of Ian. “Thanks for coming over. Meant a lot to the kid.” 

Ian tilts his head, giving him a look. “Just Yev?” 

“Come on, man,” Mickey bows his head, hitting his shoe against Ian’s. “I- uh like this thing between us. I like you being here and I- uh like going over to your place. I really like you, Gallagher.” 

Ian bows his head. This is Mickey’s way of telling him how much he likes him, possibly love, and Ian’s terrified. Monica’s voice grows louder and louder in his head. He can’t breathe. “Yeah, well I hope so. This thing has been going on for what? Nine months?” 

Mickey chuckles. “A long fucking time, man. Almost a year. Should we celebrate or something?” 

Ian doesn’t look up. His mind is racing. Celebrate. He wants to celebrate their anniversary. Monica’s voice continues to get louder. He grips the countertop and looks at his shoes. He sees Mickey’s right hand move towards him. He notices the tattoo. He pushes past Mickey, trying to put some distance between them. “What about your soulmate?” 

“What’s going on? I thought we put this soulmate shit behind us,” Mickey asks, reaching to grab Ian’s hand but Ian flinches. Mickey sighs. “There’s nothing to talk about. He left. Just like yours.” 

“Don’t you want him to come back?” Ian asks. 

“Why are you bringing this up? We talked about it."

"No, we didn't," Ian says. "We pushed it away, buried it."

Mickey groans. "Seriously, Gallagher? What the fuck is this? You really want a fucking answer? No, I don't want him back. Why would I? Just so he can leave again?” Ian hears Mickey move towards him so he moves further away. “What’s this about?” Ian doesn’t say anything. “Ian? Look at me, man.” 

Ian slowly turns around to face him. Mickey’s eyes are wide and he looks panic. “I-uh need to think about us.” 

“Ian-” 

“I just need to think about this,” Ian grabs his jacket off the chair and puts it on. He gives Mickey one last look before grabbing his keys. Mickey is looking down at the kitchen floor when Ian closes the door. 

He doesn’t get out of bed the next day. Fiona tries to talk to him but he ignores her and rolls over. Lip comes by late afternoon and drags him out of bed. Ian tries to fight him but Lip overpowers him. He forces him into his fancy car and drives him to Patsy’s. Ian glares at him but follows him inside, letting Lip order for him. 

“Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?” Lip demands after the waitress takes their orders. “You just recovered from a depressive episode a few months ago so I know it’s not that.” 

Ian shrugs, looking down. 

Lip sighs at his lack of answer. “Fiona tells me that Mickey has stopped coming over. And you’ve only been over to his place twice in the last few weeks. Something’s going on with you and you need to tell me what.” 

The waitress comes back with their drink order. Ian thanks her and takes his tea. He absentmindedly stirs it, avoiding Lip. 

“Ian, come on,” Lip tries again. 

“Monica came back a few weeks ago,” Ian starts. 

“Yeah, I remember Debbie said something about it. She stayed maybe a week this time,” Lip says bitterly. 

“Mickey and I were home alone when she walked in. Frank was with her and was being Frank. Mickey got him out of the house,” Ian tells him, still stirring his tea. “Monica sat down with me and told me that Mickey wouldn’t give me the same feeling as Trevor. She told me that Trevor would be back. I know she’s wrong. She fucking left us so much that her words mean nothing but my mind just kept playing her words back.” 

Lip sighs, running his hand through his hair. He is silent for a long time, thinking. Ian knows he is trying to think of something to say that won’t make him mad. Lip finally sighs, gripping his mug. “Look, you know I’m not a fan of Mickey but he is a whole lot better than fucking Trevor. He cares for you and is there for you more in this last year than Trevor ever was those three years. Monica is a fucking idiot for saying that.” 

“I know. And I know I shouldn’t have listened to her but I did,” Ian bows his head, looking into his coffee. “I told Mickey I needed to think about our relationship.” 

Lip hisses. “Those words really fucking got to you.” 

“I just kept thinking about Mickey’s soulmate and if he comes back.”

“Fuck Monica, okay? Fuck those words. Fuck your soulmate and fuck Mickey’s soulmate.” Ian looks up at his brother, shocked at his words. Lip holds eye contact him. “You love Mickey. You are good for Mickey and he’s good for you.” 

“I do love him,” Ian nods. 

“Then go tell him that.” 

“But what if he leaves?” 

Lip sighs. “I know you don’t want to be hurt again and I can’t tell you that you never will again. And if it does happen, you move on and you beat it.” 

Ian stares at him, his mind racing. He stands up, almost knocking over his mug. “I have to go.” He runs out of the diner, almost hitting the waitress bringing their food but he keeps running. He doesn’t stop until he’s in front of Mickey’s door and almost beats it down when he knocks on it. 

“Holy fucking. Calm your fucking tits. I’m coming!” Mickey yells inside. Ian hears him stomping to the door and he can’t stand still. “What?” The door yanks open and Mickey stands there fuming. When he sees it’s Ian, his face falls but only slightly. He opens his mouth to speak but Ian doesn’t give him time. He grabs Mickey’s shirts and kisses him. Mickey reacts immediately, pulling him inside. Mickey kicks the door closes with his foot and they stumble into the apartment, falling onto the couch. The sex is quick and over before it even really started. Ian leads him into the bedroom and this time they take their time. 

“Holy fuck,” Mickey groans as they lay next to each after the second round. 

“Yeah,” Ian says. He rolls over, facing Mickey. He runs his hand through Mickey’s hair, reeling in the softness of it. “I’m sorry I ran out the other day. My mom said these things about soulmates and I couldn’t stop thinking about it even though it was bullshit. I mean, she has left Frank so fucking much yet she claims no one else makes her feel like Frank. But she’s wrong. Mick,” Ian stops talking and looks at him, his fingers twisting around Mickey’s hair. “Mick, I love you. I don’t need time to think about us.” 

Mickey looks down, not saying anything for a long time. Ian moves his hand and runs his finger across Mickey’s cheek, nervously, waiting for a response. Mickey looks up after what feels like a lifetime and pulls Ian in for a kiss that takes Ian’s breath away. He pulls away and stares into Ian’s eyes. “What you and I have- makes me feel free.” 

Ian’s face hurts he’s grinning so much. He goes to pull Mickey in for another kiss but Mickey stops him. 

“Are you sure about this?”

“I'm in. I'm all in.”

#shameless #shameless fanfiction #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #my stories #my fics

[sapphireemeralds]

For my DnD character ask meme...odds for Eliot and evens for Mo—And you can pick a letter 💜💚

Alrighty, let’s do this! :D

1) What would they consider to be their biggest failure?

Eliot: She feels responsible for her younger siblings, and sees their refusal to leave the family business and come clean as her failing.  Bill’s descent into even more despicable shit really gnaws on her - she loved him dearly and defended him from Margaret’s abuse and her full siblings’ insults as best she could, and she tried so hard teach him to be compassionate and look for the goodness and inherent worth in people, not just the money and favors he could cajole or squeeze out of them; when she joined the Valoran police force, though, that drove a wedge between them and drove Bill closer to Angus.

2) What’s the story behind their name?

Mo: Named after his great-great-grandfather, who was a valiant soldier and famous fencer.  Gramps would not approve of our Mo’s uh, significantly less artful swordsmanship or fondness for bludgeoning weapons.

3) What’s their relationship with their family?

Eliot: Loves Fiona and trusts her whole-heartedly, though they’ve drifted apart a little as they’ve grown up and gone about their lives.  Forgives Margaret (Mom) for most of the pain caused, but doesn’t trust a single word Margaret says and struggles to control her temper around her.  For younger siblings, see (1).  Tuk Tuk is her baby, her buddy, her lil’ sunshine.

4) What’s one song that describes them or is them?

Mo: Whoo BOY I actually don’t have a character playlist for Mo, but for now let’s go with “Spoilin’ for a Fight” by AC/DC

5) Who is their best friend?

Eliot: Mireth in the Crazy Campaign, and... honestly, I’m not sure who yet in P&C, but she is drawn to very charismatic, composed people, so she’s gravitating toward Caspian and Talise.  Dealing with Quiggley’s awkward earnestness is too much like looking in a mirror; she likes and respects Jax, but doesn’t quite know how to connect with him; and she hasn’t spent enough time with Brax or Briony yet.

6) Why are they their class?

Mo: When he joined the army, he basically had three choices - stab/slash/smack shit (fighter), pray a lot and heal shit (cleric), or study a lot of arcane shit so he can stand at the back casting fireballs (wizard).  A straightforward man, he chose the most straightforward option.

7) What do they think of their party members?

Eliot: In essence, “I would sooner throw myself in front of a charging behemoth than stand by and let you weirdos deal with this nonsense alone.”  They’re the closest thing she’s had to home, and she just wants them all to be safe and happy.

8) In what ways are they similar to you?

Mo: He’s very forthright about his opinions, and those opinions don’t change easily; we both hate being wrong.  That said, we’re both usually fine going along with a group consensus.  Usually.

9) In what ways are they different from you?

Eliot: She has a more optimistic world-view and greater faith in the divine, and she’s far braver than I’ll ever be.

10) What do they look for in a romantic partner, if they have a romantic orientation?

Mo: Easy-going, sensible, sociable, adventurous but not too wild, loyal but not clingy

11) If they had a patronus or animagus form, what would it be?

Eliot: I was trying to think of something cooler that would still fit, but nah, let’s be real... she’d have/be a Golden Retriever.

12) What do they smell like?

Mo: Leather, sandalwood, and cedar

13) What is their secret skill?

Eliot: Once she’s heard a song all the way through a couple times, she can henceforth recognize it almost instantly.

14) What is their relationship to spirituality?

Mo: Decidedly meh.  Mo’s no atheist - he’s met enough devastatingly effective clerics on the battlefield to think otherwise - but he’s not deeply interested in the gods, nor does he think they’re as interested in mortal affairs as people claim they are.  He’s the Forgotten Realms equivalent of someone who only goes to church on Christmas and Easter and prays, like, twice a year at most.

15) If they were to be remembered for something, what would they want to be remembered for?

Eliot: For everyday acts of mercy and kindness, and for standing up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. 

16) Why did they become an adventurer?

Mo: He found that once he picked up a sword, it was hard to put it down; for years, settling back into civilian life simply seemed unthinkable.  Age and a narrowly-missed apocalypse finally changed that.

17) What’s one thing about their backstory that came to you after you already started playing the campaign?

Eliot: THE WHOLE THING.

18) Do you have any headcanons for them that haven’t come up in game? Or headcanons for other party members?

Mo: As Elemental Evil is basically an extended dungeon crawl with a clear goal and limited opportunities for characters to just... talk... AND I joined that campaign late, basically none of my headcanons for Mo came up in-game.  In fact, my headcanon for him is still a little sparse.  Two tidbits, though: he has a stamp collection, and he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket to save his damn life.

19) Any ships with your character? If a PC or NPC, what interaction launched it?

Eliot: For the Crazy Campaign, Eliot/Keegan, obvi - god bless poor unsuspecting Drew for tapping into my latent obsession with consensual possession as a character dynamic/basis for a ship.  As for P&C, Eliot is crushing HARD on Giulietta, although potential spoiler alert, it’s unlikely anything will come of it.

20) What would your character consider their biggest success? Or what is your favorite success your character has had so far?

Mo: Helping stop the apocalypse ain’t half bad, he’s pretty pleased with that. ^w^

As for the letter, let’s go with B: Hogwarts Houses! :D ( * indicates some serious uncertainty; also, I’m excluding characters I haven’t played yet, or only played for one or two sessions)

Gryffindors: Flora, Bells, Mo, Diantha, Skylar*, Fae, Ace

Slytherins: Bao, Takara

Ravenclaws: Jamie, Kiya

Hufflepuffs: Eliot, Theron, Jheri, Flint, Idris*

#thejenesaisquoigirl #memes 'n' shit #just trpg things #ask

[mariska]

OH ALSO. since i have now seen every main chucky/childs play movie (except the 2019 attempted reboot one idk if i rly care enough about it to see it knowing that it just kinda got scrapped plot wise anyways LOL) here is my Official Mariska List Of Fav Chucky Movies

#1 - Seed Of Chucky. absolutely fucking bonkers, never seen anything like it and i doubt i ever will, it was so funny and Glen/Glenda was a wonderful character addition to the series who i sincerely hope shows up again sometime soon. where r they hiding that kid. bring em back i miss em. one of my fav movie plot twists that will ever exist is 'oh u thought this was celebrated superstar Jennifer Tilly? nah thats Tiffany the killer doll from Bride Of Chucky. Jennifer Tilly simply does not exist anymore.' LMAO

#2 - a tie between Bride Of Chucky & Cult Of Chucky. both very different style and genre wise but really good in execution i personally feel like; Tiff was obviously a genius character addition in Bride and i truly believe Ms Tilly revived the series in a way it needed to be able to go on as long as it has since. there are too many women protagonists in horror that i watch where it feels like they have to justify her anger, terror, killing etc etc and Tiff is such a great character because she and Chucky are truly a horrible awful match made in hell LMFAOO, they are both just horrible irredeemable serial killers and i genuinely love that. Let Women In Horror Just Be Evil!!!! now, Nica is obviously not that same brand of Evil Just For Being Evil but i think she is also a great addition to the series and im excited to see where they take her (or....yknow. maybe just Fiona in general since idk that shes really technically playing Nica anymore lol) with new movies/eps of the ongoing show (which i havent started yet but am very excited to). Fiona is an incredible actress and i think it was a great writing idea to make a role for her where it makes sense for her to be related to the main character in-universe as well as in real life; the whole ending sequence of Curse Of Chucky was really interesting i think and i love that as the series goes on we're getting to explore more of the backstory and lore of Charles™️ pre-doll possession. i could talk about Cult of Chucky for years on end; i absolutely loved the cinematography, throwbacks to older movies in the series and horror classics in general (ESPECIALLY the very 70's style split-screen/overlayed clips sections, really really cool and made me immediately think of the prom scene in Carrie or some scenes/themes/characters from the original Omen), and My God....Femme Chucky. i will NEVER recover from that. THAT is gender. also i really enjoy the social commentary in so many directions in Cult; the whole Chucky/Child's Play series has a lot of genuinely well written critiques on public perception of very heavy topics (the very corrupt adoption/foster care system in the US, military industrial complex, the consequences of glorifying/making 'celebrity' status out of serial killers, i could go on and on tbh) which is really refreshing for horror as a genre since it usually doesn't address any of that kinda stuff. its definitely not perfect rep by far, but personally as both a physically and mentally disabled person (and as someone who often has to use mobility aids to function though i am not a full time wheelchair user so that isnt my exact case) it was very refreshing to see that representation in Nica's character as well as having a spotlight put on the infantilization of disabled adult women/people perceived as being women or feminine and at the same time, the demonization of us, because they really go hand in hand very often and comedy-horror is the last genre i would've expected to get that validation of my life experience with. also i wish i looked as cool as femme Chucky and would love the opportunity to give Jennifer Tilly a kiss. hfksgddgddgsjfh

#3 - Child's Play 2. the late 80s and early 90's were such a great era for experimental horror and this one being released in 1990 is no exception; i am someone who absolutely loves the bright neon primary color aesthetic of that era and this movie was so much fun to watch even on that aesthetic basis alone. i really liked Kyle as a character and if i had grown up watching these movies as a kid or teen she 100% would have contributed to my lesbian realization way earlier in life than i actually had at like 19 LOL. she and Andy made great found family siblings and i think both actors did a great job with their roles!! also i think this is the first movie in the franchise where they really started leaning into the ridiculously campy comedic concept of a supernaturally possessed serial killer cabbage patch kid, the general pacing of the story felt a lot smoother to me than the first one which is no surprise i think since horror sequels to unexpected commercial hit movies tend to suddenly have a much bigger budget and better resources to work with than their previous installments. the whole final fight sequence was wild, the 80s/90s mcdonalds indoor playground aesthetic of the doll factory and the grotesque-ness of Chucky experiencing like ten different types of extreme body horror/torture is an absolute blast that had me cracking up and screaming at Kyle & Andy to just LEAVE THE BUILDING AS SOON AS HES DOWN LMFAOO CMON GUYS. HE LITERALLY DOES NOT DIE STOP WALKING UP TO HIS WEIRD DOLL BODY LIKE HES NOT GONNA GET UP AND JUMP U

#4 Child's Play (1988) - a classic and a good start to the series. wonderfully low budget 80s horror aesthetic is always fun for me to watch lol. a bit slow with the pacing but that is completely understandable as the first movie in the franchise and also the fact that they definitely needed to incorporate enough atmospheric horror elements to get movie audiences hooked for more before tossing them in the Camp Closet and locking the door behind them LMAO. the mom overacts in like every scene and its so funny i am obsessed with her character, also her friend being like gently tapped by Chucky with a hammer and doing a fucking gymnastic flip outside of the top apartment window is one of the funniest horror movie kills i have ever seen it cracks me up just thinking about it. that woman fucking LAUNCHED herself out of that window dude.

#5 - a tie between Child's Play 3 & Curse Of Chucky. i still liked these and enjoyed watching them, but they both feel very tonally different than the rest of the movies in a way that i personally felt was kinda boring; i personally am not a fan of most general 'action' movies or movies about military stuff so most of Child's Play 3 for me didn't grab my attention enough. i was more involved in feeling like i had to save the main kids from being in a military academy more than anything which is not the kinda mindset im looking to be in when im watching a series like Chucky lol, that's a very personal opinion though, i don't think its a 'bad' movie at all, just not really my kinda thing. same with Curse Of Chucky for slightly different reasons; as a stand alone horror movie it's fine, has kind of a vintage haunted house movie kinda vibe which was cool but it was too much atmospheric exposition for like 90% of the run time for me to fully enjoy it as much as i did with the others. again though, i dont think its a bad movie at all, just not fully my type of story. it did a great job establishing Nica's character and how her lore opens up a lot of doors to explore in the larger universe of the franchise; i am a sucker for established/in-depth backstories (i think mostly because my fav characters in a lot of media tend to be the ones that have little to no canon lore and i've always had a lot of fun writing/making my own headcanons for stuff like that) so i was very excited to see a new point of view added on to Charles Lee Ray pre-doll; you already know he's horrible and irredeemable just from watching all the other movies but the ending of Curse really added a heavy, more realistic sinister edge to his story and it's a good reminder that even though he's the main character and it's easy to kinda be like on his side cus its so fun to watch him cause chaos to everyone and everything around him, he IS a serial killer. he might make passive comments that he isnt 'really a monster' and occasionally kill some real scumbags who had it coming, but...he is ALSO a terrible scumbag who had it coming. i don't think he has an actual set of morals at all, Curse definitely adds to my opinion on that part of his character. in Cult he brutally kills the man who assaulted Nica, but we see a heavy implication of him doing the exact same behavior to Nica's mom at the end of Curse and it's honestly horrifying. in his monologue to Nica he straight up admits it; he takes pride in tearing families apart (another detail that was hinted a bit in earlier installments, like the line in Seed Of Chucky where he mentions killing Tiffany's mom who she was obviously very close with and still thinks about often) and ruining childhoods. i definitely would have enjoyed Curse more if the majority of the movie run time was dedicated to exploring the lore of the universe like the ending is.

#LONG post sorry 4 rambling i just got Chuck On The Brain jfkdghjkfghjdkf

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

For life, yeah?

Gallavich Gift Exchange 2017 for @frank-iero-owns-my-ass! The prompt was:  Mickey coaxing Ian through a particularly depressive week, it's lasted longer than usual and Ian won't come around. Ian is secretly afraid Mickey will leave him if he keeps up his manic episodes, but he feels so helpless, as does Mickey in trying to help him. Mickey pov (general guidelines, feel free to change it, im so easy to please) So here is my interpretation and I really hope you like it :) Also a huge thank you to @gallavichthings for organising this whole thing. xx

Mickey hisses through his teeth as he runs his bloody knuckles under the stream of cold water.

“Mother fucker!”

He grits out through pursed lips and flexes his hand experimentally. It’s going to bruise like a bitch but he doesn’t think anything is broken. Thank fuck for that! Ian is going to be pissed enough without adding a hospital bill. He keeps his hand submerged for a couple more minutes and then carefully wraps it in a mostly clean towel and returns to the scene of the crime.

Yev turns away from the carnage as his Papa approaches and looks up at Mickey with large, sympathetic eyes, sucking in his lower lip.

“Ah shit.”

Mickey groans, surveying the damage for himself.

“Shit, Papa.”

Yev agrees sombrely. Mickey nods and mimics the little boy’s lip movement. Though now is not the moment for taking a photo, if anyone was there to do so, it would serve as an excellent paternity test if there was any doubt left as to who fathered Yevgeny. They are two frowning, blue-eyed peas in a South Side pod.

“Daddy is gonna be super mad.”

“Yeah.”

Mickey nods grimly already thinking about the sheer level of jutting chin he’s going to have to deal with for this one. He squats down beside his five year old and Yev wordlessly hands him the broken controller. Mickey runs his thumb over the cracked plastic and floppy toggle sticks. It wasn’t Ian’s remote thank God, but it’s still going to be an expense they could do without. The re-run of the K.O that caused the meltdown is still playing on the TV.

“Your hand okay?”

Yev asks, rocking up onto the balls of his feet to see the rather impressive swell of bloody knuckles his Papa is sporting.

“Hurts a bit.”

Mickey admits and glances up at the fist shaped hole in the wall. From this angle it looks even worse.

“Fuck.”

“Fuck.”

Yev agrees again and puts a comforting arm around his Papa’s shoulders. Mickey gives him a little lopsided smile and stands up, lifting Yevgeny with him and settling the boy on his hip. Yev raises his eyebrows at his Papa and flicks his gaze to the broken plasterwork.

“What are we gonna tell Daddy?”

“That I lost my shit and busted the wall I guess.”

Mickey shrugs.

“Are you gonna get a spanking?”

“Maybe, little man. Maybe.”

Mickey laughs despite himself and Yev bites his lip in consternation. He has never been spanked but has been threatened with it a couple of times and he understands the general principle of it well enough to know it is to be avoided at all costs. He looks back at the wall over Papa’s shoulder as Mickey carries him out of the room.

“We could fix it?”

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to fix it. But, hey, listen, you get that what I just did was really bad, right? We ain’t supposed to throw toys.”

“Or stamp on them.”

“Right.”

“Or punch things.”

“No …”

Mickey grimaces as Yev continues to tick things off on his fingers

“Or say cuss words really loud.”

“Okay...”

“Or …”

“I think you got it, little man. Good job!”

Mickey kisses his son’s forehead and stands him down in the kitchen, handing the kid a chocolate chip cookie. Yev isn’t supposed to have sugary snacks before lunch but when Mickey acts out in front of him, which doesn’t happen as often as most would expect, but more often than he likes to admit, he always feels like he needs to spoil him a little to make up for it. It’s not great for a five year old to learn new and improved tantrum techniques from his father.

“Want a bite, Papa?”

“Nah, you enjoy it, man.”

Yev smiles happily and stuffs the rest of the sticky treat into his mouth, chewing with a noisy enthusiasm, broken toys and punched walls all but forgotten.

*

Mickey is just pondering how best to patch up the wall without Ian freaking out too much when the front door slams open and his boyfriend crashes in along with a flurry of snow and cold wind, face drawn and angry.

“Daddy!”

Yev cries excitedly, immediately abandoning Mickey in favour of charging toward Ian.

“Hi Yev.”

Ian picks his son up obligingly but Mickey’s ears instantly prick at the sound of Ian’s voice. It is flat, devoid of its usual flair and light.

“Hey, you’re home early.”

Mickey ventures cautiously as Ian walks over to him, his uniform is crumpled, messy, it looks like Ian has been hunched over rather than his normal straight-backed elegance.

“Not feeling good.”

Ian looks at Mickey, glances at the hole in the wall and closes his eyes, turning his face to bury his nose in Yev’s hair.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“I … ah …”

“Papa punched it.”

Yev offers. 

Ian’s eyes instantly harden.

“Jesus Christ, Mickey. What the Hell is wrong with you?”

The frustrated disappointment in Ian’s weary voice renders Mickey immediately mute and he studies his bruised knuckles intently. Ian kisses Yev’s temple and hands him over to Mickey, actively trying to avoid touching him at all.

“I need to lie down. Just leave this shit alone until I get up. I don’t want your clumsy fuckin’ patch up disturbing me.”

Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the harsh words and harsher tone but the bags under Ian’s eyes silence any retort he might try to make.

“And put the damn heating on. You spend enough on cigarettes; you can spend some money on keeping our kid warm.”

Ian gestures around the already warm house and glowers at Mickey who bites his tongue with an effort and nods.

“I’ll bring you in some lunch, okay?”

“Whatever.”

Ian stomps past and closes the bedroom door loudly behind him and Mickey lets out the breath he has been holding. Yev looks up at his father uncertainly

“Is Daddy okay?”

“Yeah, just tired and mad at me for the hole in the wall.”

Mickey smiles at Yev and then glances up at the closed door, a frown creasing his own brow. It has been nearly a year since Ian’s last depressive episode, and Mickey supposes it had to happen again at some point.

*

The next morning Mickey wakes up and rolls over to face the Ian shaped bundle of blankets that is beside him. He knows that Ian is awake from the pattern of his breathing and Mickey tentatively rests his hand on the outline of one strong arm.

“Good morning.”

No response.

“How you feelin’?”

Mickey inches the covers back slightly to try and get a look at his boyfriend but Ian shivers against Mickey’s palm as it is laid on his shoulder and pulls away silently.

Shit.

Mickey sits up and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, wiping away the grains of sleep gathered in the corners.

He rolls himself out of bed and grabs his dark blue dressing gown from the back of the door. The thick, coarse towelling is a reassuring glint of normality and makes him feel a little better as his bare feet adjust to the cold kitchen floor.

He flips open the pill dispenser lid and empties the four pills Ian takes every morning into his palm, poking at each of them in turn with his forefinger, scowling. He wishes he knew which one of the little round fuckers had flunked out on Ian this time. He’d crush it, toss it down the toilet then take a shit on the pieces.

However, Mickey doesn’t know and so he carries all four back to Ian with a glass of water and focusses his attention on the task at hand.

“Hey man. Time to take your pills.”

Ian’s voice is muffled but clear enough for Mickey to make out:

“Go away.”

“I will in a minute, I promise. Just take these and I can go.”

Mickey crouches besides him and gently tugs the covers back from Ian’s face. He should have had Yevgeny stay the night. Ian is in pretty bad shape but not so bad as Mickey had feared and he almost always takes the pills when Yev offers them to him. As long as Ian is not at the very bottom of the pit of despair, he is still a pushover for the kid.

“Please, Mick ...”

“C’mon. You know I gotta see you do it.”

Mickey’s thighs are beginning to cramp from the squat and he shifts awkwardly, trying to be patient. Ian eventually uncurls a hand and Mickey slips the pills into it and then holds the back of Ian’s head, helping him sip water to get them down.

“Alright. I’m gonna make you a sandwich and leave it on the side here. You can eat it if you want to.”

Mickey stands, pressing a kiss to Ian’s cheek before drawing the covers back over his shoulder. Ian tugs them the rest of the way over his head and Mickey nods to himself. Fine.

He goes into the bathroom and whilst he releases the torrent of his morning piss, half-heartedly aiming at a stain on the back of the bowl, he tries to stem the rising panic bubbling in his chest, reciting the familiar mantras to himself.

They’ve done this before.

One of the pills is out of whack and needs to be regulated.

Ian will spend a day or two like this and then he’ll manages to move, they’ll go to the clinic and sort it.

They’ll be okay.

Ian isn’t even as bad as he sometimes gets, he can still call Mickey ‘Mick’ and he took the pills without crying, lashing out or just refusing until Mickey had to force him.

It’s all okay.

It is all going to be okay.

He texts Fiona and receives a reply that she’ll be over soon. Gallagher’s love a fuckin’ drama, he thinks wryly and then chides himself for being an asshole. The last couple of years the Gallagher clan have been pretty good about accepting Mickey and Fiona is always ready to help out when Ian hits a rough patch.

Mickey makes Ian a baloney sandwich, leaves it on the side with a glass of water, and goes out for his morning smoke.

He stands on the porch in his robe, a battered pair of tartan slippers on his bare feet, faded blue shorts and a tank top, a cigarette dangling from his lower lip. A couple of kids ride by on bikes, leaving tracks in the fresh snow, and one of them flips Mickey off. He returns the gesture and they pedal away, shrieking with delighted laughter. They’ll probably tell their friends that they flipped off Mickey Milkovich and got away with it. Mickey doesn’t care. His is one of the few houses that has never had a juvenile break in, that tells him all he needs to know about his status in the community, thank you very fuckin’ much.

The sounds of South Side fill the morning air and Mickey inhales deeply, appreciating the familiarity of them. Sirens, screeching tires, the deep rumble of machinery in the distance.

He settles into the creaky old lounger that Ian dragged home from Christ knows where and tips his head back, drawing heavily on his smoke. The material is cold even through his dressing gown but he doesn’t mind that. It’s peaceful out here and if he freezes his balls off it doesn’t really matter. He won’t be using them for a little while anyway with Ian like this.

He feels like he has forgotten something but shrugs it off. Ian had his pills, he’s got food, he’s got water … Mickey snorts and shakes his head. Sometimes caring for Ian in these phases feels like having a sick old cat: Feed it, medicate it, clean up its … SHIT!

Mickey hastily stubs the cigarette out and hurries into the house. He shrugs out of his robe and pushes their bedroom door open gently.

“Ian, hey, we gotta ...”

Mickey trails off as his eyes light on the glass of water. No longer clear, it is now a dull yellow. Ian has pissed in the glass. It is full to the brim, Mickey’s gaze follows the splashes on the table, down the draw, and he knows, without looking there is going to be a big old wet patch on the floor. It’s not Ian’s fault. He knows it isn’t, but his eyebrows are still up to his hairline and his lips compress into a tight line.

Mickey rakes a hand over his face and waits in the doorway until he can be sure that his temper is under control.

“Okay. Fuck. Alright ...”

Mickey nods to himself and stalks into the bathroom grabbing a bucket, cloth and bottle of disinfectant all the while worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

As he enters the bedroom, he composes his face to neutrality. Ian is looking out from the cocoon of his blanket with flat, red-rimmed eyes.

“It’s on the carpet.”

Ian whispers miserably. Mickey shrugs and glances down dismissively as if the carpet brought it on its fucking self by being in Ian’s way.

“It doesn’t matter. Carpets shit anyway.”

Mickey gingerly tips the glass into his bucket; not bothering to try to pick it up, it is too full. He drops the cloth to the carpet and stamps onto it a few times, spraying the bedside table with disinfectant at the same time.

“I’m sorry.”

Ian shakes his head hopelessly and Mickey gives him a lopsided little smile

“Meh. We’ve all been there. I once pissed in Mandy’s cereal bowl ‘cause I didn’t wanna pause a video game. Don’t worry about it.”

A tear slides down Ian’s nose but he manages to lift one trembling corner of his mouth at the anecdote as Mickey pats his cheek very softly, stroking the tip of Ian’s short sideburns with his finger. Mickey hates seeing him like this, somehow when Ian is in the grip of a deep depression it is easier, the rules and limitations become more defined. This is a weird middle ground, the pills are trying to work but they are just enough out of sync to keep Ian submerged below the waterline of his illness.

“Hey. You listening to me? It’s okay.”

“You must hate me.”

“Not in this life, Gallagher.”

The kiss Mickey places against Ian’s lips is a full stop rather than a question mark and Ian reaches up to trace the curve of Mickey’s cheekbone gratefully. There is a flash of utter clarity amongst the clouding of his vision and Ian sighs gently. He doesn’t have the energy to reassure Mickey that he is still there, he just has to trust that he already knows.

*

Fiona arrives just as Mickey is finishing the clean-up and wiping Ian’s hands with a couple of the little wipes they keep for Yev.

“Hey Sweetface.”

She murmurs and spends a few minutes speaking in a soft, sweet voice to Ian and catching him up on family gossip. He doesn’t show any signs of interest but he is acknowledging the information and that is something. Mickey loiters on the edge of the bed, his fingers lightly resting on Ian’s foot. He is glad that Fiona is telling him normal shit, sometimes she can get a bit maudlin and it puts him on edge, plus he doesn’t want her making Ian feel worse. Once he is content that Ian is in safe hands, Mickey excuses himself to make coffee and when Fiona comes out of the bedroom, they sit at the table to drink it.

“What can I do to help, Mickey?”

Mickey taps the rim of his mug and sighs

“Not a whole lot for this but I was wonderin’ if you could watch him for a few hours on Thursday? If he’s not feelin’ better, you know?”

Fiona nods and sips her drink, it’s stronger than she’s used to but looking at the lines beside Mickey’s eyes, he desperately needs it strong today.

“What time?”

“Late afternoon? I gotta job to do and it’s kinda time sensitive. I’d tell the guy I can’t do it but I took the cash up front so now it feels shitty to bail on him.”

“You got a job?”

Fiona looks so happy that Mickey feels almost sorry to burst her nosy bubble

“Ah … not like … uh … it’s just a beat down. Some guy is havin’ trouble gettin’ his daughter’s ex to fuck off and he asked me if I could help.”

Mickey can feel the blush that creeps into his cheeks and scowls defensively, although to be fair Fiona hasn’t actually said anything but it still feels a little awkward admitting how he pays the bills.

“We need the money.”

“Sure, of course.”

Fiona’s smile is a little more stretched but credit to her, she’s trying to look impartial and Mickey cocks his eyebrow at her, letting a small grin lift his own lips.

“It’s a full service in this house. I beat ‘em up and Ian gets the call to go fix ‘em up.”

Fiona gives a surprised snort and her smile relaxes into a much more genuine grin.

“Fuckin’ Milkovichs.”

“Fuckin’ Gallaghers.”

Mickey counters as they touch coffee cups lightly and Fiona hands Mickey a cigarette. It isn’t exactly a friendship, but it’s close. Fiona respects that Mickey stands by Ian during his periods of illness and Mickey respects that Fiona shows up when he asks her. He suspects that the old superiority complex is still there deep down, but she treats him evenly and the whole family is great with Yevgeny, so fuck it. Sometimes you gotta accept the wins where you find them.

“Are you guys gonna be OK?”

“We’ll be fine. Tomorrow or Thursday, he’ll pick up and we’ll get to the clinic. Just a balance issue with the meds.”

Mickey’s tone doesn’t leave room for any disagreement so Fiona just nods and glances around the sparsely decorated little house. She likes how easy it is to pick out who chose what. The bright coloured cereal bowls, army paraphernalia and colourful movie posters are Ian to the life, whilst the solid, dark wood coffee table and Jack Daniels posters are very obviously Mickey. She glances at the no-nonsense black cup in her hands: Mickey.

“What happened to the wall?”

Fiona frowns at the gaping hole in the wall beside the TV and Mickey shrugs

“Milkovich temper tantrum.”

He hedges and to his joint relief and horror, Fiona gives him a sympathetic look and sighs

“Yev did that? Jesus. Trust me, the tantrums they have at five are nothing compared to the meltdowns of a pissed off eight year old. Carl once cracked a car wind-shield.”

Mickey makes a non-committal noise and buries his nose in his mug.

*

The next few of days pass in a really fucking monotonous blur for Mickey. Ian is either asleep, crying or angry. It is a low dip but it’s not the sort where he can’t function at all.

He can still demand that Mickey go out and get him some coke to help his mood, then throw a plate of food across the room when he is refused.

He can still recognise that he’s being difficult and sob his guilt and remorse into Mickey’s chest before pushing him away again.

Mickey just replaces the thrown food, refuses to get anything stronger than a joint, and strokes him back to sleep when he cries. What else can he do?

It is part of the illness, part of his body and mind trying to readjust and find a way through. Mickey knows all this, Ian’s doctor has explained it and Mickey has seen it several times. It can be hurtful, sure, but Mickey has taken a lot worse from people he doesn’t like half as much as Ian, so he figures he can handle it when it occurs.

On the fourth morning, Mickey lays down beside Ian after giving him his pills and kisses from his elbow to shoulder, resting his chin on him after the final kiss.

“I love you.”

He murmurs, sweeping a length of slightly greasy hair back behind Ian’s ear. Mickey kisses the muscular shoulder again and feels his body begin to stir. He shifts his hips back, not wanting Ian to feel the bulge in his pants. It isn’t anything Mickey can control, being near Ian is enough to get him going, no matter the circumstances, but Ian doesn’t need that kind of attention right now.

They watch a couple of shows and Mickey reads while Ian sleeps. It isn’t difficult exactly but it is boring as Hell.

When Fiona comes to relieve him of Ian watch for a couple of hours, Mickey is actually a little excited to get out of the house and work out some of his tensions and frustrations on some little punk who needs to learn when to back off.

He drives over to his clients place and parks a block over in case it goes to shit and the cops show up. This part of town is worse even than where he and Ian grew up and a few suspicious looking dudes glance appraisingly in his direction before clearly thinking better of it and going back to whatever hole they crawled out of.

One guy follows Mickey a couple hundred yards and Mickey toys with the idea of using him for practice, it’s been a while since he had a proper fight but it all seems a bit too much like hard work and although he’s glad to be out, he is worrying about Ian and his head isn’t really in the game.

The guy begins to move in on Mickey and with an impatient grunt, Mickey pulls his butterfly knife out of his jacket pocket and begins to flick it to and fro, flashing the blade with a familiar deadly grace, the metal making little ‘snicking’ sounds as it flits between his fingers.

The guy disappears down a side street and Mickey knocks on his clients door without further incident.

“Oh shit! Mickey, hey!”

“Hey Joe. You ready?”

“Oh man, listen, Ariel got back with the little prick last week, I meant to call you ...”

Mickey raises his eyebrows in irritation

“I already spent that money, Joe.”

Joe, a retired boxer and occasional bouncer flinches back at the frustrated look on the younger man’s face. He hasn’t seen the youngest Milkovich boy for a while but he seems pretty fired up and Joe knows from experience that underestimating his temper is a fool’s errand, it’s why he hired him in the first place.

“Keep it, she’ll break up with him soon and I’ll call you. OK?”

Mickey is bitterly disappointed but nods curtly.

“Alright man. Take it easy.”

“You too, Mickey.”

Mickey pauses to light a cigarette on the doorstep and hears a bolt slid discreetly into place. That cheers him up a little, he likes it when big guys feel a bit uncertain of him and Joe is a really big guy. Mickey supposes its professional pride but it is nice to know that your work is so respected that people want to make sure you don’t turn it around on them.

He considers chasing down one of the smack-head assholes who wanted to go with him earlier but decides against it. It would be just his luck to get arrested and Fiona might be okay with Ian for a few hours but Mickey doesn’t trust her (or anyone else for that matter) to see Ian through the rest of this shitty thing if he ends up doing a couple weeks inside. He’s never been away from Ian before during a depressive episode and fuck knows what would happen if Mickey got sent down right when Ian needed him most. Nothing good, that is for sure. Mickey flares his nostrils, chucks the butt of his cigarette into the gutter and heads toward his home.

*

“How is he?”

He asks as soon as he gets in and Fiona grimaces

“Mean. You know how it can go. I tried to feed him but he wouldn’t eat. He’s watching YouTube videos in bed.”

Looking up at Mickey she does a double take and scowls

“Jesus. You look deranged. What happened?”

“Nothin’ job got cancelled.”

He answers tersely and then gestures to his bedroom.

“The videos are good, right? He’s engaging with the world around him and all that. It’s a good thing.”

Mickey repeats, frowning at Fiona.

“Yeah of course but, Mickey, he’s being kind of a prick and you look strung out … you want me to stick around?”

“Why? In case I flip out and beat the shit out of him?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

Fiona is just tall enough to tower over him slightly and unlike Joe, she has no fucking fear. Mickey pushes a hand through his hair and shrugs against the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m not gonna do that. Thanks for hanging out and all but I got it.”

He won’t outright tell Ian’s family to leave unless he has to but it’s a close call and Fiona seems to understand this as she begins to gather her coat and scarf without comment.

“How much longer can you do this, Mickey?”

“Long as it takes.”

“He might need ...”

“Whatever it is he needs, I can give him. This is his home.”

Fiona gives Mickey a sympathetic look and he shifts his eyes, not wanting to meet her concerned gaze. She’s never tried to force him to take Ian to hospital, but she has suggested it before and Mickey desperately hopes she’ll leave it alone now. He doesn’t have the patience today. Fiona clearly thinks this too as she shrugs and says

“If you need me, just call.”

“Yeah thanks.”

Mickey nods and waits with his arms folded whilst she says goodbye to Ian. He expects her to just leave but she pauses beside him and gives his cheek a tiny kiss too.

“See you Mickey.”

“Uh… yeah, you too.”

His words don’t make sense but then neither does the kiss so Mickey doesn’t worry about it too much.

 *

Time passes. Ian’s mood doesn’t improve and neither does Mickey’s. 

It has been eight days since Ian came home in a foul mood and went to bed.

Eight days and the hole is still in the wall, the controller hasn’t been replaced, the laundry isn’t piling up because neither of them are changing their damn clothes but the dishes are high in the sink and Mickey forgot to do Yev’s assignment with him so Svet has pitched a fit over text. Things are falling apart gradually and all Mickey wants is for Ian to eat something and have a wash.

He looks down at the cracked plate and the squashed and scattered sandwich remains on the carpet. Ian had asked for the sandwich. Mickey had made the sandwich. Ian had thrown the fucker into a wall.

“Guess you didn’t fancy it, huh?”

No response. Ian doesn’t even look up from his phone.

“You want me to make you another one?”

Nothing.

“How about some chips? Give the vacuum cleaner a bit of textural variety?”

Ian glances up from the video he is watching but doesn’t answer. Mickey’s patience slips

“... or maybe I could just shove the whole fuckin’ meal deal up your ass?”

“Fuck off.”

Ian glances up from his phone and glares at his boyfriend. Mickey tongues at his upper lip, clearly aggravated. The room stinks, Ian stinks. It is the cloying smell of an unwashed body and Mickey is sick of it.

“Fine. Don’t eat but you gotta wash.”

Mickey informs him, stripping down to his own boxers ready to get Ian to the shower, his legs will be wobbly after so long in bed.

“No.”

“Ian …”

“No.”

“It’ll just take a minute …”

“You fucking deaf? I SAID NO!”

Ian roars, sliding down the mattress, dragging the blanket back over his head. Mickey’s own temper flares as  he presses his lips together tightly, raises his eyebrows and yanks the blanket away again with a sharp tug.

“I’ve had enough of this shit! Get the fuck up! You are on your fuckin’ phone watchin’ videos. You ain’t so far gone you can’t get up.”

He half crawls onto the mattress, intending to haul Ian off bodily and put him in the fuckin’ shower, even if he has to hold the fucker under himself.

“Go away, Mickey!”

The back of Ian’s hand catches Mickey just under his eye and he jerks back, startled.

“Ow! Fuck, Ian!”

Ian curls inward, turning his face into the pillow.

Mickey gets off the bed and closes the door behind him as he leaves. He isn’t built for this shit. When Yev had tantrums as a toddler he pretty much either ignored them or handed the kid over to Ian to deal with.

Ian is the one who deals with peoples shit. He’s the one who smooths stuff over and stays calm. Mickey doesn’t.

He tugs on some sweat pants and a thick sweater of Ian’s still over the back of the couch.

His cheek is stinging and Mickey’s hands are trembling from the shock of the whole damn thing. He paces around the house uncertain of whether or not to go back in. He decides against it. 

He drinks a beer and smokes three cigarettes outside on the porch, slumped down in the lounger. He shouldn’t have yelled, shouldn’t have snatched Ian’s cover away, shouldn’t have tried to force him. So many things he shouldn’t fucking do and he does most of them anyway. 

His phone vibrates in his pants pocket and Mickey glances down at it expecting it to be Svetlana about the school project again.

Ian: I’m sorry. I love you. Please come back.

Mickey doesn’t want to go back into that room. He slips his phone back into his pocket and pretends he hasn’t seen the message. Just ten more minutes, that’s all he needs. Ten minutes to himself and then he’ll go and lie with Ian or anything else his boyfriend wants of him.

Five minutes pass and Mickey is just about to light his last smoke when the back door squeaks and Mickey looks round, one eyebrow arched in surprise. Ian is stood in boxers and vest, shivering in the cold, looking down at him in absolute misery.

“Fuck, man! Get inside!”

Mickey stumbles to his feet, smoke curling out of his nostrils as he clamps the cigarette between his lips and barrels Ian back into the house.

“I’m so sorry, Mickey.”

Ian is trembling from head to toe and Mickey grabs a blanket from the couch, throwing it around Ian’s shoulders like a cape, rubbing his arms brusquely.

“It’s okay.”

“Your eye’s all puffy … Jesus.”

Ian’s lip joins the rest of his body, quaking miserably and Mickey makes an impatient noise at the back of his throat.

“I’m fuckin’ tired, both my eyes are puffy.”

Ian shakes his head and shakes off Mickey’s hands, reaching out and pulling his boyfriend roughly into his chest, holding him close.

“I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay...”

“Stop saying that! I’m sick, I’m not a little kid. Stop telling me it’s okay!”

Ian orders, and he sounds so much like his usual-self Mickey doesn’t even want to argue back. He likes authoritative Ian, he likes it when Ian takes charge of situations so that Mickey doesn’t have to. One of the hardest parts about the depressive episodes for Mickey is the responsibility of it all. What Ian eats, drinks, when he takes his meds, it is all down to Mickey and he hates it. He wants Ian to be in charge of his own life.

“Fine. It’s not okay. You’re being really fuckin’ hard to handle and I sort of want to kick your ass.”

“I know.”

Ian nods his chin against the top of Mickey’s head.

“I’m glad you’re up.”

Mickey says quietly and Ian nods

“I thought you might have left me.”

“Not likely.”

Mickey smiles against Ian’s chest and then pulls back looking up at him.

“You and me are for life, Firecrotch. We’re family.”

Mickey gives Ian a serious look as he says this and the younger man nods.

“Okay.”

Ian’s eyelids start to droop again. The adrenaline that got him this far is wearing off and his legs are shaking alarmingly. Mickey takes some of his weight and begins to guide him toward the bedroom but hesitates.

“Bathroom first.”

“But ...”

“Two minutes.”

He says firmly. Ian’s eyes drift down to him and it is as though Ian sees, really sees, Mickey for the first time in days. The tiredness, the strain, the smell of them both. 

“Oh shit, Mick …”

“What? You think I look like shit? Man, I’m a fuckin’ runway model compared to you.”

Mickey smooths Ian’s greasy hair and kisses his hairy cheek. They’re both sporting the beginnings of beards and the soft rasp of stubble is so calming that Ian actually turns his cheek, pressing it closer to Mickey. The effort is exhausting but the smile it raises on his boyfriends face is worth it.

“You actually like this, huh?”

Mickey asks softly and Ian nods.

“Sexier on you now than when we were kids.”

“Alright. Well, we don’t have to shave mine but we gotta shave yours. Makes you look like a damn schnauzer. I’m gonna start the shower and we’ll get you cleaned up.”

Ian feels a tear slide over his nose, and Mickey’s breath hitches as he notices it, but when he speaks, his voice is firm.

“I need you to help me, Ian. I can’t carry you.”

The amount of weight Ian has lost in the last week, this is probably not true but it has the desired effect and Ian straightens his spine determinedly.

“OK.”

“Good.”

Ian hears the water running in the bathroom, he hears Mickey’s tuneless humming, and he hears his heart pounding in his temples and knows that it beats for the man who is so desperately trying to take care of him. Ian grits his teeth, closes his eyes, and with great effort, he tugs his shirt over his head and peels out of his boxers.

It is like moving through a swamp, like his limbs have turned into thick rubber noodles that refuse to cooperate with his minds commands but he takes the few steps he needs to reach the bathroom door and pushes it open.

Mickey is leaning over the bath, his sweater sleeves pushed up, testing the temperature of the water raining down. His ass is jutting out in a sweet, round bubble against the soft fabric of the sweats. Ian feels nothing at all and the realisation stops him cold.

Then Mickey turns and he is smiling that wide, generous smile that is only for Ian, all white teeth and creased eyes, his nose scrunching just the tiniest bit and Ian manages another step forward.

*

Two weeks later

*

Mickey wakes to the smell of coffee and waffles. He blinks, frowns, squints against the small stream of sunlight that has found a chink in the curtains and is falling stubbornly over Mickey’s face. It takes him a few seconds to process the smells in conjunction with a small, warm weight covering his back.

He half pushes himself upright but an impatient noise stills his movements as a little hand takes a fistful of his t-shirt.

‘Yev’ Mickey thinks with a small huff. He half remembers the kid coming in during the night and squeezing in between him and Ian. He considers it a bad habit and something of a liberty but Ian doesn’t seem to mind at all so Mickey tend to just stake his claim on as much mattress as possible and ignores it.

Now, Mickey rolls over slowly until the weight dislodges with another grunt and a tiny bump on Ian’s side of the bed.

“Yeah, that’s what you get.”

Mickey mumbles as he sits on the edge of the bed and fondly smooths the frantic sweep of Yevgeny’s hair down, tucking the blanket around his sturdy little shoulders.

“Good Papa.”

Yev murmurs up at him approvingly, already slipping back toward sleep. Mickey smiles to himself and yawns widely.

Padding out of the bedroom he makes his way downstairs rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Ian is moving slowly around the kitchen, he looks tired but content. Mickey’s eyes flick toward the pill box and he notices the lid is flipped up which means Ian has remembered to take them. He’s been doing really well since the meds changed but Mickey always checks.

“Good morning.”

“Oh! Oh shit! I wanted to surprise you!”

Ian pauses mid waffle flip, a tiny frown creasing his brow

“You did.”

Mickey assures him, scratching at his beard. It’s come in a lot fuller than the last time he tried to grow one at seventeen and it’s actually pretty impressive now. Ian has tried to convince him to go for the full ‘Hipster’ look but Mickey has to draw a line somewhere and apparently, it gets drawn at a top-knot.

“How you feeling?”

“Shitty but I made breakfast and don’t feel like I need to sleep again already so I’m doing great, right?”

Ian lets his expression soften into a self-effacing smile and pours Mickey a cup of coffee.

“Damn right, you are.”

Mickey sips his drink and snakes a hand around Ian’s waist, palming him lightly.

“Not while the waffles are cooking.”

Ian’s scolds but his smile broadens when Mickey clucks his tongue in faux impatience.

“Fine but they better be damn good waffles.”

“Oh you know it. Sit your ass down and I’ll bring you some over.”

“Make sure I get the biggest one. You always give it to Yev.”

“Are you pouting?”

Ian laughs as Mickey settles into his usual spot at the head of the table and lights a cigarette

“Not yet.”

Mickey says evenly, flashing Ian a smile around the smoke. Ian serves them up, making sure to give Mickey the largest one and putting Yev’s share in the oven to keep warm. They eat in an easy silence, Ian’s foot nudging gently against his boyfriends.

“Hey, listen, I gotta patch up that hole in the wall today and I know we’re gonna take Yev home, but once we’ve done that … you wanna head down to town hall?”

“What for?”

Ian looks up from his plate and gives Mickey a sweet, wonky smile. Mickey scratches the side of his nose a little embarrassed and shrugs

“I figure now you’re out of bed, we’ll get married.”

Ian chokes on his coffee and Mickey pounds his back with a little bit of unnecessary force

“Jesus. I didn’t realise the thought of marrying me would make you wanna kill yourself by fuckin’ beverage inhalation.”

“No it’s … well, fuck! I wasn’t expecting it that’s all.”

Ian truly wasn’t. If anything he was bracing himself for a talk about maybe not being quite right for each other or something. He knows it’s stupid, that Mickey loves him and is fiercely loyal but when Ian has come out the other side of an episode, manic or depressive, he always wonders at the back of his mind if this will be the one to finally push his boyfriend away.

“Look it’s not a roses and champagne proposal it’s just … Fiona is your next of kin and fuck knows who mine is. I wanna know that if something happens it’s you and me who make the big decisions.”

Ian’s smile wavers but holds

“Did she try and get me into hospital?”

“No, but I wanna know that no one can. I make that call for you. You make it for me. Seems right.”

Mickey shrugs and looks shiftily between his coffee cup and the bright green eyes of his partner.

“So? Will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Jesus Christ, Ian. Marry me! Will you marry me?”

Mickey’s eyebrows are half-way to irritated and Ian grins at him

“I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“Asshole.”

Mickey suppresses his own grin, nudging his tongue into the corner of his mouth impatiently when Ian continues to stare at him.

“Ian, I swear if you don’t give me a fuckin’ answer, like, now…”

“Yes, Mick. I’ll marry you.”

“Today?”

Mickey prompts, blue eyes shining with happiness that he cannot quantify and doesn’t try to.

“Yes, today.”

Ian laughs, nodding and then seems to think of something else and shakes his head a little.

“Are you sure though? You really want ...”

“I just asked you, didn’t I?”

Mickey says sternly but tempers his tone with a soft kiss on Ian’s cheek.

“Yeah but …”

“It’s you and me, Gallagher. For life.”

“I’m so fucking lucky to have you.”

Mickey flushes slightly at the unexpected praise and Ian grips the back of his head, drawing him close and kissing the tip of his nose, lips twitching with a hidden smile

“You hear me? I am lucky to have you. You are a kind, generous, good person Mickey.”

Ian holds Mickey’s gaze until he is sure the words have sunk in and then pulls him into a kiss, knowing Mickey is more comfortable with expressing himself physically than verbally and damn, does Mickey express himself well.

 Ian’s mouth is warm and welcoming and the sweet tang of syrup mingles with the taste of coffee and cigarettes. Mickey sighs into him as Ian drops his fingers questioningly into Mickey’s lap and finds the answer all too apparent.

The words “I love you” float up between them and it is not clear which voice speaks them, but it doesn’t matter. They are simply and irrevocably true.

#gge2017 #shameless #shameless fanfiction #mickey milkovich #Ian Gallagher #ian x mickey #yevgeny milkovich #Bipolar ian #Love #gallavich #happy ending

[materialgirlsfanfic]

Chapter 10: Affordable Prices To Pay...(Pt. 1)

KIERSTEN

“Boy you’ll be the death of me, you’re my James Dean you make me feel like I’m seventeen…” - BEYONCE X RATHER DIE YOUNG

TWO MONTHS LATER…

“Sweetie, like always when you get into one of your moods you dip off, and close everyone off  like we can’t resolve things like adults. Call me back.”

…..

“Bitch! I want to actually see you, IN person for brunch this weekend, mmmkay!? You got London on the verge of tears talking about you keep blowing her off, and even my dad has been asking for you! The project is not that deep, ain’t nobody about to be playing hide and seek with yo’ ass either. Call me hoe!

…..

“Hey Kiersten, its Jessie. Just checking in to see if we’re still good for Friday, at 7pm. We still have to discuss the little things like donors, designs, and the guest appearances for the show. But no worries! We’re almost done with everything. See you soon!”

….  

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s dad, I know you may be busy with school, and your work but I wanted to discuss some things with you. I don’t like going this long without out talking to you sweet pea. Let’s do dinner Sunday. Love you, call me soon.”

…….

“Honey, I’m doing an interview with Vogue for Models On Duty, and I’ll be teaming up with June Ambrose and Ashley Graham, I’d love you to be involved. June asked for you. Being as though you aren’t answering me at least. Call her. Back.

……

“Baby girl, I’ll be swingin’ your way shortly. Give me like an hour. I had to meet with this nigga to discuss somethin’ for the club, you know how that goes. But I’m ‘bout to stop at your favorite spot. Let me know what you want.”

……

“It’s your mother again, you know the one that brought you into this world. That was in labor for 16 hours over you Kiersten Stephanie Whitaker! You’re really behaving despicably! Two months! People are asking questions and growing concerned honey, Please!

…….

She was never fond of pet names. Terms of endearment made for coddling, or pacifying sometimes expressed in a  condescending manner that made her blood boil. Well pet names from her. She placed her phone down after shooting a few texts out, and deleting the majority of voice messages.

Amongst the seven, three voicemails belonged to the woman that birthed her that bordered hysteria, even at the calmest level of her tone. She could picture Fiona Whitaker swallowed in the high priced mansion where the walls were caving in with her stricken with loneliness. Where she was accompanied solely by a wine bottle, Marlboro cigarettes and a broken heart. Coping methods to perpetuate the sickness that will certainly take more than medical assistance to cure. She was sweetie in a drunken slur on most nights, honey when anger was on the surface of aggravation, and love when on the brink of being dismissed for what her mother deemed as a trivial manner.

Kiersten grimaced, setting down the chiffon material meant for sewing, that she couldn’t even attempt to make happen. She wished the internal battles didn’t always make her the common casualty from her mother’s assaults.  So much so, the name coddling was salt poured onto more opened wounds. I’m not a child. Slightly started, she felt the calloused hands caress her shoulders that trailed to her wrist, and finally her hands, spreading them out beneath his large ones.

But when he called her baby? Mmm. Spoken in that gruff bravado was enough to make her knees buckle. The warm  fuzzy feeling of contentment growing fonder these past months as she inhaled his distinctive scent of wood and spice.

“What you in here stressin’ about? I can feel that shit all the way from the other room.” Was her transparency that evident? Kiersten smiled smally as his lips reached her temple causing her to get further cocooned.

“I’m not stressing.” What a lie, Kiersten. Do better.

“Oh, yeah?” She could feel Messiah’s eyes boring through her as she attempted at pulling away. The makeshift desk on her vanity made up of her sewing machine, and kit only providing but so much room for her to find an escape out of her gratefully enormous walk in closet. Or as Messiah would put it: ‘Your couture bedroom’. His pronunciation of couture (CAH - tour) always causing to giggle like an idiot.

“Yeahhh.”

“Nah, stay your little ass in place.”

“Come on‘ Si, I’m working. No interruptions when we’re in our zones remember?”

“Na. I ain’t tryna hear all that baby girl. You been in here too quiet, for too long…” She felt the scruffiness of his beard nestle close to her face as they both looked into the vanity mirror, cheeks pressed together. “Damn you’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that soooo much. Now, move. I wasn’t quiet but moreso focused.” She pointed down to the mop of materials to sew in front of her. “As you can see.”

“Come on mami. Come take a break.”

“Nooo, Messiah I have a deadline. You’ve been distracting me enough!” She was becoming accustomed to this… routine of there’s for lack of better words. Conforming to the ways of a hermit, Kiersten for the past month shielded away the outside world as she remained ducked and hidden in her condo. With only the exception of classes, work, and random trips to Mood fabric store, she limited herself of any social interaction. Her excuses being senior projects, creative assistant duties, and lastly the silent emergence of depression coasting that she couldn’t get a hold of. So like usual she figured solitude the best remedy. But not to London, and Brooklyne who have boarded stalking by the definition. And she couldn’t blame them. The only form of communication she was accepting was rushed over phone convos, scarce FaceTime calls, and texting at best. But a particular gentleman, a Brooklyn specimen, who wasn’t accepting the limits Kiersten was dishing out, wanted all in.

So from random pop ups, to persistent contact of the physical kind, he was the only one she was really allowing access.

But having a man of Messiah’s caliber coexist in her presence, and actually wanting to be there, was still mind boggling. Wanting to provide an ear, offer consolement to even something so trivial as a missing earring. Where, as if it was second nature or a necessity for the completion of his day, having to know the condition of her well being, and being in close proximity to receive it. Not to mention he always wanted to touch her. Always.

She inhaled a soft breath feeling herself being lifted and pulled to his steel chest, where a pinch to her ass cheek was then given, causing her to squeal.

“Eeeeee! Messiah, stop! Wha- for one I’m entirely too heavy for this, what are you-?”

“Shut that shit up, it look like I’m having a hard time holding you?”

“I didn’t say that, Messiah. I just…okay. I can spare an hour then I have to get right back to work. You’re so impossible, like seriously.” Wedged between the rock solid arms of him, was Kiersten escorted to the confines of her kitchen and sat down on the cool surface of the countertop, causing her to tug at her shorts. Exasperation was displayed as she watched him pull out various items from her cabinets and freezer. So much for that hour break.

“You know what you need, Keeks?” It wasn’t a guess that the question was posed rhetorically, but she now found herself contemplating heavily. What do I need? Her feet swung back and forth waiting, while allowing her eyes to latch onto the define muscles of his back as he maneuvered around the kitchen preparing a meal she had yet to identify.

“Besides these cute fuchsia Manolo pumps I seen, today?”

“…To get out this house…a peace of mind.” They were face to face now. Him coming towards her with a bowl filled with mixed vegetables, and a neutral expression that bordered him examining. Kiersten figeted reaching for the bowl to occupy her hands that she nervously toiled together looking back at him. But he dodged it out of her reach, and locked her in between his hands that framed her, setting the bowl by them. “How long you gon’ be hidin’, usin’ work as a scapegoat?”

“That’s not what I’m doing. So don’t…don’t try and psychoanalyze me, ‘kay?”

“That’s what you think I’m doin’? ‘Psychoanalyzin’ you like you some nutcase, or I’m a shrink?”

“Messi-”

“Nah, fuck that. So I’m not ‘spose to ask these questions? Like I’m not hip to what you doin’. You’re buying time, and shit to avoid what? Tell me why I’m here, if it’s not to be concerned but your damn well being Ki?”  

“Listen, okay? I just need you to be…” Here. For as long as I need you to be. With me not having to feel like the other shoe is bound to fall any day now.She felt the emergence of tears, and gritted her teeth, now pushing him back lowering her head.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ coward. We not doin’ that shit. I told you that. Talk to me. Finish what you was about to say, and look at me. You need me to what? Be here? Hold you? Feed you? What? Pacify you? Keep you locked in and throw away the key? What, Kiersten?”

“Just be present!” From that tiny place engulfed in her stomach where the grueling feeling of turmoil resided, was the shout’s source. Messiah remained unmoved and focused, waiting for her to continue. “…like now. Messiah, just continue to make me feel like I’m not going crazy, and by myself. Please.”

He nodded. She exhaled. He cooked. She watched, and the night continued as was.

BROOKLYNE

97…98…99-

“Sorry to disturb you baby girl, but you got a minute?”

Benjamin Pierre’s presence, just like his coffee, was served strong. Like the emergence of the rigid taste of the straight black caffeinated beverage on one’s tongue, as expected it was, it still took you aback. The distinction being that stern. Her father’s deep brown melanin seemingly glowed under any light that further highlighted his strikingly handsome features; the eyes that matched her own stared at her for moments of intensity, with urgency in the midst of. She placed a halt in her morning exercise of 100 plies, and barre work giving him her full attention.

“For my favorite old man, of course. What’s up, pops?”

“Fiona contacted me…” Aw, shit. “What’s this I hear about Kiersten’s blatant refusal to go home?”

“That’s what she told you?”

“Yes, so much more. But that’s just the half.” In Brooklyne’s bedroom at an early 9:43am was a stare off. Meddling in normalcy, but she was sure wasn’t to last much longer as that thick bushy brow of his rose. Following the cross of his arms, and the tilt of his head. But Brooklyne wasn’t London. She didn’t crack under pressure easily or allowed any of Benjamin Pierre’s typical courtroom intimidating tactics to shake her the least bit. After all, I am my father’s child.

“Hm, not sure daddy…that’s strange. Last I spoke to her things were fine. And she was definitely home. FaceTimed her and everything seeing she was right in her bedroom.” Yeah, to pack the last box I was to swing by and pick up to finish decorating.

“Is that right? So when was this?”

“A…couple days ago? Yeah, Tuesday.”

“Hm. Interesting. Look, Brooklyne…two things I need you to understand if you haven’t by now…” Through a sip of her chilled bottle of Fiji water, Brooklyne concealed a gulp of concern. It’s one thing for her father to intimidate for answers, it’s another when he already knew them, she supposed, and was behind the fire of checking. “I find out everything. No matter the time of delay it maybe. No matter the circumstance, I…do. It’s what I get paid for, as you know.”

“Dad-”

“So, if and when you hear from Kiersten again and she turns out to actually be “fine” like you say she is? Tell her to call her mother. Thanks, babygirl.”

Brooklyne flopped on the bed huffing heavily.

“This too much.”

———

You’re missing me, I’m missing you

Whenever we meet, we ain’t gonna get no sleep

When I get to be together with you

It’s fait accompli, we ain’t gonna get no sleep

Slick. The droplets that trailed down his steel abdominals, flexed and illuminated his cream complexion. Under the soft light in the studio his shadow trailed closely behind as it remained in sync with Janet Jackson’s “No Sleeep”. Brooklyn seeped in light breaths, as she remained tucked away and hidden by the barre. Taking peeks was growing tiresome like her thighs, she surpassed a little warm up to get started. At this point she was truly stalling. Why am I even doing this?

“So, we startin’ from the second verse…you ready?” Lord knows I’m not.

“Mind explaining to me what’s this for again? I’m not a hip-hop dancer, we know this.”

The heat of his body radiated onto her own as he stepped forward and stood behind her. There in the ceiling to floor mirror was the detection from Brooklyne’s view, trouble. Not a simple attempt of a duet or a pas de deux rather insisted by his mother, her instructor from hell.

“As you know The Joffrey Ballet intensive my mother is instructing has a hiplet component. A mix of hip-hop an-”

“…and Ballet, Tahj. I know, hip-hop on pointe shoes. Yes, she explained this. But why me? Did you insist this little arrangement?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Brooke. She did, actually.” She turned to him and searched his face. “I don’t know…for some strange reason she has this idea that you’re good enough. Let’s get this shit over with.”

She sneered at his sarcasm, tying her hair back. An hour in as she began feeling perspiration coat her skin, she was finally able to blur out the ridicule she felt. Taking this exactly for what it was which was simply a dance demonstration for a bunch of high school students that should last no more than four minutes.

“Shit!” A stub of her toe caused her attitude to look less than stellar, as she tripped into an awkward fourth position. From her peripheral she could see his bemusement.

“Don’t overextend your back like that. The fuck you tryin’ to do? Break it?”

“Since when did you become an expert of ballet? Focus on poplockin’ nigga.”

“You forgettin’ who my mother is? You been in her class long enough, to just be makin’ common fuck ups. What…” He walked closer to her side of the studio. “You nervous?”

“I twisted my ankle, right before the senior showcase…the senior showcase that had Juilliard talent scouts, and the director of Ailey in the audience. Guess who was accepted to both? Tahj…don’t insult me. Can we start from the top, please?” She went to her cue in stance of releve with her arms in Egyptian pose.

“…You were perfect.” She would’ve missed it, had it not been so quiet you could hear a mouse piss on cotton, as he muttered it so quickly.

“What?”

“You heard me nigga…that’s what got you accepted, right? Now, from the top.”

#i know it's been 234 years :(((( #Clermont twins ff #theclermonttwinsff #heather sanders ff #chris brown ff #chrisbrownff #asap rocky ff

[staranon95]

bait and switch

a red hood au drabble

Jeremy doesn’t often do stealth jobs. He likes to be loud and brash in his presence. That’s usually part of his job when their running a heist. Be loud. Be shiny. Be noticeable so the others who work stealth, who can sneak by and go unnoticed can be exactly that.

Jeremy is used to keeping the attention on him, but tonight things are working out a bit differently.

The muscle has been activated. Jeremy and Michael have been scouting out Red for a few weeks now. Trevor wants him brought in so they can question him. Figure out who he is, what he knows about the city, and why he’s so obsessed with the Fakes. The tip Red gave Fiona a few weeks ago turned out to be true, and they had time to leave the penthouse behind before it was raided by the LSPD. They’re working out of one of the safehouses while Lindsay removes their presence from the penthouse.

Jeremy feels a bit weird about that fact. The penthouse has been a staple for years and now they have to give it all up. Become something new again if they intend on staying relevant.

They’ve been keeping a low profile for a while now, picking up on every potential sighting of Red and piecing together to pinpoint a location where he might be staying. Matt has set up a security system to track people based on their gait, so they’ve been pouring over thousands of hours of security footage across the city to locate the spots Red likes to frequent. They find a few, which is better than nothing.

Jeremy and Michael have done runs like this before. They have a pretty good system. Jeremy is the one that heads in first, flashy colours, meaning to take on the attention while Michael gets in behind them and clocks them on the head a solid one. It’s a tried and true method, but Trevor has warned them that Red knows things about the Fakes. If he knows how to get in, if he knows their code names, then he might know how they operate.

So it’s bait-n-switch.

“When we get in,” Michael says, “you step out first, then he’ll look for me. That’s when—”

“Yeah, yeah, I tase him. We’ve run this one before.”

“We can’t let him get away.”

“We won’t. We got this. Not like we’ve dealt with worse.”

Which is true. Jeremy was just being hopeful that they could get away with living a relatively normal life for criminals.

They come to the building they know Red is living out of. A month by month lease situation. It’d be easy for him to get in and out if he needed to.

They stake the place out a bit, wait until they find a familiar figure that matches their target. Jeremy is getting his gloves on just as he sees Red duck into the building, hood pulled up over his head.

“Cock it and pull it,” Jeremy says.

“Dude, you need to stop it with the Fall Out Boy references.” Michael gets out of the car first as Jeremy laughs. He’ll get himself into position on Red’s floor before Red comes home. Once he’s here, Jeremy will follow him in and they’ll spring their trap.

He waits a solid ten seconds before following Red inside the building. He keeps his feet light as he treads up the stairs. He’s betting on the fact that Red knows he’s following him.

They get to the third floor. Red is pulling his keys out as Jeremy positions himself in the middle of the hallway, hopefully cutting off his retreat.

“You’re not an easy man to find,” Jeremy says, hopefully catching Red’s attention away from where Michael is skulking around at the opposite end so he can make his approach.

Red stops, keys hanging in the lock of his door. He’s even still wearing the mask Fiona had said he was wearing that day they met. This guy really doesn’t want to be known. “Seems like you had no issue with that. Oh! And would you look at that.” Red turns to face Jeremy directly, arms crossed, resting his weight on one leg like he has nothing to worry about. “Rimmy Tim as a I live and breathe. Same old colour scheme, huh? But if you’re here, I’m going to assume that—” He whirls around just before Michael can hit him. He catches him by the wrist, and that’s when Jeremy rushes forward with his taser in hand shoves it against Red’s back. He makes a wounded sound and goes stiff. Once they know he’s incapacitated, they move for the elevator.

They lie Red out in the back seat with his wrists tightly ziptied behind his back. Michael gets into the driver’s seat and Jeremy buckles up as he pulls out his phone to confirm they’re bringing in Red.

“Tempting, isn’t it?” Michael says, looking at Red through the rear-view mirror. “To take the mask off?”

Jeremy looks over his shoulder. “Yeah. But I doubt it’ll be all that exciting. I doubt we know the guy.”

“Still, it’s like whenever Batman has his mask taken off. You spend all that time wondering who it is, and it’s some jumped-up billionaire with a guilt complex as wide as the Grand Canyon.”

“I doubt this guy is a jumped-up billionaire. Did you see the building he lived in? I counted three rats on our way out.”

Red groans behind them. He mutters something that neither of them can decipher.

“Take it easy, pal,” Jeremy says. “Those tasers pack a punch.”

“Don’t be trying anything stupid either,” Michael says.

“Well, this fucks up my night,” Red says. He repositions himself, gets himself to sit up right. “Fucking hate tasers. Leave me feeling sore in all the wrong places.”

“If you’re feeling lucky, there’s a lot more where that came from,” Jeremy warns.

“Nah, I’ll take my chances.”

And then he’s moving. Quicker than either can anticipate. He’s gotten out of his zipties, reaching for the nearest door lock and then tumbling out of the moving car as they drive down the highway.

Michael slams on the breaks, causing the car to swerve a bit before it comes to a stop. Jeremy is out and running as quick as he can. It’s dark, at that inky blackness just after the sun has fully set. All he has on him is the shitty flashlight on his phone. But Red is gone. Off into the weeds.

“God dammit.”

Michael comes to a stop beside him. “I don’t know a lot of people who would jump out of a moving car on a highway. That shit hurts and there’s no telling if someone might run you over first.”

“Dude, we are so in over our heads.”

#fake ah crew #fahc #gta au #star speaks #star writes #red hood au #jeremy and michael are just so much fun to write about #they work so well together