#Ian volunteers for Lip

[bubblegumbarbie33]

Don't mind me just thinking about a Hunger Games Gallavich AU

[callivich]

Random Shameless headcanons I have for characters other than Ian and Mickey post-finale….

Fiona comes back to Chicago when Frank dies. She’s dreading it. Even though she misses her family like crazy, it’s hard coming back. She gets to the airport and nearly turns back around. She’s anxious the whole flight. But when she sees her siblings waiting for her at arrivals, she breaks down in tears. There’s a big family hug. She doesn’t stay for long but she’s glad she came. From then on, she returns often.

Debbie and Carl end up running the Alibi with Tipping. Debbie hosts an LGBTQ+ quiz night once a month and meets the love of her life at one of these nights. Carl may or may not end up having a bisexual awakening at a different one of these nights. Carl and Debbie work on a whole menu of cocktails that they name after their family and friends. They bicker a bit but they don’t fight. They find they actually work well together.

Svetlana has a comfortable life. She’s single for a long while, just focused on raising Yev. She works at a run-down Eastern European restaurant as a waitress and very quickly works her way up to manager. She turns the place around and one day is able to apply for a loan and buy the place. Now she spends her days running a tight ship - a well reviewed restaurant with a perfect health score - and some of her nights sipping an ice cold vodka at the bar, impeccably dressed. There may or may not be a beautiful, rich widow who woos her….

(Don’t hate me for this one) Lip and Tami end up moving to Milwaukee where they have another baby. It’s ok for awhile but then they break up. They move back to Chicago and co-parent well together even though the breakup is bad. They try dating other people casually. But they eventually fall back in love. It takes time and a lot of trying but they get there in the end. It’s very messy. But isn’t life?

Lip ends up staying with Ian and Mickey for awhile after the break up. Although they’re family and they love each other, it feels like forever for everyone.

Despite Tami and Lip breaking up, everyone treats Tami as family and nobody cuts her out of things or sides with Lip over her. Everyone is neutral and supportive. Lip is kinda amazed at everyone’s maturity. It makes him realise how much they’ve all grown up.

Liam is a straight A student. He does incredibly well in school. He has a lot of ambition and dreams. He wants to be a defence lawyer and do as much pro bono work as he can, he wants to be a doctor and work at a free clinic, he wants to get involved with politics and help speak for those who can’t. There’s a lot he wants to do, so he starts by doing a lot of volunteering at different organisations. Because of this his applications to college are amazing. He may or may not get his siblings into volunteering too.

Debbie gets a ‘franny’ tattoo on the top of her arm near her shoulder. It’s done from Franny writing her own name. It’s both very sweet and very cool.

Mandy comes back to Chicago after a bad breakup. She’s determined to build a good life. She misses Ian and Mickey but can’t find the strength to get in contact. She knows Terry is dead. So, she has a good job, a nice apartment. Everything’s going well and then she runs into Debbie. And…it’s nice. It’s nice to see Debbie happy and healthy and with a sweet kid. Debbie encourages Mandy to get in contact with Ian and Mickey but says she’ll keep her secret if she doesn’t want to.

She doesn’t have to. Mandy gets their address off Debbie and turns up at their apartment. It’s a lot emotionally. They have a long catch up session with alcohol, some very, very good weed (better than they ever had as teenagers) and takeout. There’s laughter and tears - mostly from Ian and Mandy but also from Mickey. Yes. They saw those tears. Stop lying. She stays close with them and Debbie.

Franny and Fred and Lip and Tami’s second kid have so much fun growing up together. They have sleepovers and days out and are close like siblings. They’re close to all the older Gallaghers but they idolise Liam and he’s their favourite. He teaches them fun facts and helps them with their homework.

Kev and Vee occasionally return to Chicago with the girls, they are doing well and they rent a big house on a lake and invite the Gallaghers. It becomes a tradition once a year. Usually Fourth of July so they can watch other people’s fireworks, get drunk and party. The kids have a great time swimming and exploring. The adults enjoy Ian and Mickey’s premium weed. There may or may not be midnight swimming and very drunken Marco Polo games.

Vee and Fiona meet up for a girls weekend once a year where they find a hotel with a spa and a bar. They end up inviting Debbie and Tami after a while. Lip jokes there should be a boys weekend but he can’t be bothered to organise it.

[sam-loves-seb]

i just need a least a little bit of easter!married gallavich from sam

meant to get around to this yesterday but the day got away from me. i hope you had a good easter anon!

ian and mickey don’t really give a fuck about easter. at least, not from a religious standpoint.

but it’s an excuse to get the family together—like they need a reason—so when debbie starts blowing up the family group text about what time to come over for lunch, they tell her they’ll be there and they’ll bring dessert. they pick up a cake with bunnies on it from some westside bakery that ian picks up donuts from sometimes on the weekends.

debbie cooks, because getting together was her idea, and because no one else wants to do it. all the gallaghers go. franny’s wearing bunny ears and perpetually has chocolate on her face for the entire day. fred’s wearing a little bow tie that won’t stay clipped to his shirt for the life of him.

it’s almost too cold to be outside, but the kids are hyped up on candy and sugar so mickey volunteers to sit on the front porch and watch them run around and tire themselves out. debbie’s place is cramped and he can only spend so much time in the same room as lip.

ian spends the first hour catching up with his brothers and bothering debbie in the kitchen. eventually he finds mickey outside and sits on the porch with him, listening to fred ramble on about what the easter bunny brought him. franny nods along dutifully, even though she hasn’t believed in the bunny for a few years now.

they cram a folding table into the living room and squish as many people around it as they can. they eat ham and potatoes and roasted carrots and whatever else debbie decided to make. carl passes out beers and tami pours wine and they eat family style with plates and bowls passed around the small space.

later, mickey ends up wearing franny’s bunny ear headband, one of the ears bent at an angle. ian tries to sneak a picture, but mickey flips him off in every single one. they’re perfect.

sunday holidays are weird, and by the time they make it back to their apartment they’re tipsy and exhausted. they tell themselves that next year they’ll remember to take the day after easter off. (they never do.) they have a pound of leftovers ian slides in the fridge.

ian untucks his button up shirt from his jeans and undoes the top few buttons. mickey rips off his sweater the first chance he gets, and collapses on the living room couch with his tank top and jeans with the button undone. ian falls into place next to him, a bag of reese’s eggs open and ready to be devoured sits between them.

they catch the tail end of the white sox game and mickey passes out almost immediately. ian eventually grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and throws it around both of them, sliding down until he’s horizontal and mickey’s curling into his chest in his sleep—but not before he posts the bunny ears picture to his instagram story.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

Fic I just don’t have the energy to write but can’t stop thinking about and I thought you might enjoy the thoughts:

Debbie and Mickey go on a cooking course. Ian either volunteers to look after Franny or she’s at Lips and Ian doesn’t go to the course because it’s his workout at the gym time. Anyway, it’s just Debbie and Mickey on the course, learning how to cook and having sibling-in-law fun.

There are jokes about the potato masher. (Debbie’s planning on stealing it back, Mickey has no idea.) They are equal parts the most hilarious students but also, from the teacher’s perspective, the most exasperating.

It’s an outsider POV, a woman around Debbie’s age who signs up to the course to make friends or maybe meet another single lady. But oh no. She gets there and it’s all older couples. Apart from a younger couple, around her age, Debbie and Mickey. She’s not sure if they’re a couple or not. It’s so unclear but she’s crushing on Debbie hard.

Debbie is also crushing on OC lady. But there’s so many crossed wires and miscommunication and OC lady is convinced that Debbie and Mickey are together.

That’s ok, maybe they can be friends? There’s a lot of sexual tension and pining though. (Mickey is completely oblivious to this because he’s laser focused on cooking because he thinks that Ian thinks he can’t cook, which is not true, so he’s obsessed with making something good.)

This is a kinda slow burn story and it culminates in the last class where people are allowed to bring friends to sample the food they’ve cooked. Exciting! OC lady brings her friend, they gossip about her crush on Debbie. And are ~shocked~ when Mickey walks in with a redhead who is not Debbie. And Debbie comes in late alone.

Cue romantic interlude between OC lady and Debbie over….I wanna say some sort of dessert? Anyway, whatever the last dish they make is. It’s very cute. And Ian instantly realises what’s been going on and is like “Mickey, why didn’t you tell me about Debbie and her crush?!” And Mickey catches up quickly and is like “uh, yeah, right, they’ve got a whole flirty thing going on. Can we focus on the food I made now?!” ~insert clicks fingers pay attention to me gif~

Also everyone else is confused because they also thought Debbie and Mickey were a couple 😅

omg i love this😭

wait… i have to ask- “stealing it back”?? did mickey successfully steal it?? there would be no “jokes” coming from debbie gallagher about that, there would be war.

i don’t even know what to say but i love this concept and i love mickey and debbie being best friends because they definitely are.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Unpredictable // Chapter Two

Ian Malcolm x Original Female Character / masterlist / read it on ao3

Chapter Summary: Alan, Ellie and Lyanna meet key investor John Hammond who has an interesting proposition for the three of them...

Unpredictable tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

When the helicopter didn't land a safe distance away from the uncovered dig, Alan, Ellie and Lyanna began to panic. Lyanna and Ellie shot off towards the dig and Alan took off to, well, take the head off the pilot, if Lyanna had to guess.

While Alan ran towards the landing chopper to get them to shut down the machine that was blowing sand all over the place and damaging the finds, Ellie and Lyanna ran to cover the historical site as fast as they could.

"Cover the site!" Lyanna all but screamed, reaching the area. She skidded to a stop, crashing painfully down onto the ground and reaching for the plastic tarp designed to weather winds and storms. The fossils may be stone, but they were easily damaged. Pain shot up her legs and she knew she’d have some very impressive bruises later on. With a quick readjustment of her positioning, she got to work.

She pulled the tarp over the fossilised bone as fast as she could with the help of some of the other volunteers. They tied it safely down to make sure it wouldn't fly off when Lyanna removed her hands. Ellie winced as sand whipped sharp as glass against her bare arms.

After the dig was secure, Lyanna stood up and strode over towards Alan and Ellie's RV, angry as she’d ever been. Landing so close to a valuable dig like this one- she could understand if it were an emergency, but as far as she knew, no one had called for emergency services.

By the same token, however, Lyanna knew that they didn't get all that many visitors this far out of town, particularly in the dead of Summer as it was right now, so whoever it was and whatever they wanted, it had to be either incredibly good or incredibly bad.

She practically jumped up the few sand-worn steps and all but yanked the door off its hinges in her haste to get inside and get to the bottom of what was actually going on here. Frustration coloured her cheeks, and there was sand in her eye that she couldn't rub out because the rest of her was also, surprise surprise, covered in sand, too.

"Alright. Who's the stupid fuck who-" Lyanna was cut off by her uncle who raised his hand in alarm, silently telling her to shut up. Lyanna clenched her jaw but did as she was told, glaring daggers. She'd definitely grown up with her mothers' temper.

"Ah, this is Lyanna Grant, my niece and one of our best," Alan said hastily, clapping a hand on her shoulder to knock her out of her stupor. Lyanna forced herself to wipe her angered expression from her face and pressed her lips into a tight smile.

"Lyanna, this is John Hammond," he said with an edge to his voice that stressed that Lyanna needed to be nice to the man before him. Lyanna had to think for a minute to figure out why that name sounded so familiar to her. 

"Oh,” she said, realising who the elderly man was. "Oh my god, I am so sorry about how I behaved just now," she apologised profusely, doing her best to dust off her hand on her jean shorts before shaking his own. An embarrassed flush appeared over her cheeks, forced smile turning awfully sheepish but no one was able to tell through the dust and grime coating her skin.

John Hammond was one of the main funders of their digs. He paid fifty thousand dollars a year to keep Alan’s projects from becoming bankrupt and essentially abandoned. No one said archaeology was an abounding field, unfortunately. Digs needed investors, and investors needed money.

Lyanna noticed that the old man had opened the bottle of champagne that the three of them had been saving and she frowned, though quickly covered it back up with a bashful expression. Given that he was currently funding their careers, she supposed he was entitled enough to their celebratory bottles if he wanted them. 

"Would you like a drink?" He asked her, raising the bottle and smiling. Without waiting for an answer, John fussed around the kitchen, getting Lyanna a glass of the sparkling liquid. She took in his appearance. He was wearing mostly white which she thought wasn’t such a good idea in the dusty Badlands. It would only take about five minutes before his pristine clothes were a sandy yellow. But that wasn’t her business, and she doubted a man like him would want to stay long enough to get his hands dirty anyway. Not that Lyanna would complain. Who liked having their bosses boss around?

"I'm sorry about the dramatic entrance," John apologised, interrupting Lyanna’s thoughts and handing her the glass, "but we were in a rush." Lyanna set her jaw. In such a rush they couldn’t land on the designated landing strip, it would seem. Then again, he paid for the circus so she supposed it was his prerogative to damage the lions if he wanted to.

"I've read your book, Lyanna. It was very thorough and informative," Hammond continued without waiting for a reply, lifting a finger from his glass to point at her.

"I aim to please," she smiled, unsure of where he was going with this, but still honoured to know he’d put the effort in to read her work. Always good to meet a fan, as they say.

"Yes, well, let's get right down to business," he paused, taking another sip from his glass. Behind her, Lyanna saw a flash of Ellie's blonde hair. She hadn't realised that she had joined them inside. Perhaps she'd only just got there.

"I like you. All of you," he paused to look at the three of them individually.

"I own an island off the coast of Costa Rica. I've leased it from the government and during the last five years, I've been setting up a biological preserve of sorts. Really spectacular. Spared no expense," he smiled wide, showing them his yellowing teeth. Lyanna fought the urge to squint suspiciously at the man. This was great and all, but if he wanted them to know about his new island, he could have sent an email. 

"It makes the one I've got down in Kenya look like a petting zoo. And there's no doubt that our attractions will drive kids out of their minds," he exclaimed excitedly, not taking pause to note their hesitantly curious expressions.

"What are those?" Alan asked, resting his hand on his knee.

"Small versions of adults, honey." Ellie sarcastically whispered to him in answer. Alan gave her a look before turning back to John. 

"We're planning to open next year but that's if the lawyers don't kill me first," John chuckled, rambling on. "I've got a particular one at the moment who's being a thorn in my side. He represents my investors. He says we need outside opinions," John shook his head irritably.

 

"What kind of opinions?" Lyanna asked, crossing her arms and taking a sip of her drink, becoming more interested in the old man's rambling by the second. What could any of this possibly have to do with their dig?

"Well, your kind, not to put too fine a point on it," he shifted his weight and took another sip, swallowing before he continued. "Let's face it, in your particular fields, you are the top minds- and if I could just persuade you to sign off on the park, give it your endorsement..." he trailed off for suspense.

"I could get back on schedule," he finished, eyes flashing between the three dusty scientists before him. 

"Why would they care what we think?" Ellie spoke up. At that, Lyanna raised her eyebrow. It was a fair question. Was it some sort of reptile zoo? Or a fancy museum? But then why would either of those need to be on their own secluded island?

"Yeah, what kind of park is this?" Alan added. They were both good questions. Ones that Lyanna had been wondering herself.

"It's right up your alley," John said conspiratorially, a knowing smile growing across his cheeks. That piqued Lyanna’s interest. Up their alley? They were palaeontologists... up their alley were dusty bones and fossilised remains... Maybe it was a museum then.

"Tell you what. Why don't the three of you come down for the weekend? I'd love to have the opinion of an extra palaeontologist as well," he said, gesturing to the three of us.

"I've got a jet standing by at Chateau," he explained, jumping onto the bench behind him and pouring himself another glass once he was seated.

"I don't know. I mean, we just dug up a new skeleton..." Alan trailed off, understandably hesitant. On top of that, they had only just met the man in person as well.

"I'd fully compensate you by fully funding your dig..."

"This is a very unusual time too..." Ellie added, looking justifiably unsure.

"For a further three years," John finished.

Lyanna turned to Ellie and Alan and seeing the hesitant but excited looks on their faces, she knew that Hammond had won them over. Money was an extremely powerful persuasion tool. And archaeology digs were expensive. Soon enough they were bound to run out of fresh-faced volunteers looking for a fun time. 

They began to jump and laugh excitedly. Ellie turned and gestured for Lyanna to join them.

"Oh no. I'm not the hugging type," Lyanna tried to reason, the infectious joy eating away at her resolve. Ellie didn't listen though and brought the both of them to Lyanna who chuckled and joined the group hug.

After the excitement dissipated, Lyanna escaped the tight hold that the two of them had on her and turned back to Hammond, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"When's the plane leave?" she grinned right back.

[gardenerian]

I feel like Ian could be gullible with studies and stuff. You know thinking he has to follow the guidebook or if everyone else is doing something should I do it too??? Like that’s one of the reasons I loved his “can’t we just be Ian and Mickey” line 🥺🥺 anyone imagine him seeing videos about couples sleeping in separate beds and not that he would ever do that but Mickeys all “do you want a DIVORCE bitch” lmao.

lol i do love the idea of mickey just threatening divorce whenever ian even slightly annoys him.

"mickey i signed us up to volunteer at franny's bake sale next week" / "okay well i signed us up for CONFLICT MEDIATION bc i am taking half of everything here when i fuckiN LEAVE"

"do you think i should cut these curls off again?" / "hey where will you be tomorrow i need to know where to SERVE YOUR PAPERS"

"lip's coming over for dinner FYI" / "i'll let you know where to send my alimony checks SEE YA"

[suchagallabitch]

now i send their babies presents

Tami forces Ian and Mickey to have a baby shower for their second baby. The event stirs up past feelings about Yvevgeny and has Mickey really reflect on his current family and how thankful he is for where he is in his life.

based on the word prompt: pink by @sickness-health-all-that-shit

PINK

/piNGk/ adjective / noun

pink colour, material, or pigment OR the best condition or degree.

The day started off as it did every month, with Ian and Mickey attending a doctor's appointment with Tami, their surrogate. 

Tami said she was more than able to go to the appointments alone and report back to them, she  did  have two kids of her own, after all. Despite her offer, both men insisted they attended every doctor’s appointment with her. 

They hadn’t gotten the experience of seeing their fetus grow when they got placed with Ruby, she was already almost a year old when she came into their home. They both were more than willing to take advantage of the whole ‘experience’ this time with their second.

The process of Tami getting pregnant started off very slowly. They had to figure out the whole logistical side of everything. Ian and Mickey had talked to Kevin and Vee one holiday weekend they had come down to visit. Heard their horror story of how Vee’s mom got pregnant with her son. That lingered in Mickey’s mind, haunting him. So much so that the first ‘meeting’ they had about the soon-to-be baby opened with Mickey sounding firm in his decision as if it was something he had spent some time considering. “I’m not fucking Tami”  He was met with three pairs of eyes staring back at him in disbelief. “No one is asking you to?”

They eventually figured out everything. They had tried to get pregnant for an entire year before Tami conceived. A whole very awkward, Ian jacking Mickey off in the Tamiette-Gallagher’s bathroom to fill a turkey baster every ovulation cycle, awkward year. But every awkward evening, every avoiding question from Freddie and Ruby on why they were over every month, all sadness when another negative test came, all that was worth it. Tami was pregnant. Mickey and Ian were  going to be dads again.

The three of them had made their way out of the doctor's office and into the main lobby of the hospital's maternity ward. Mickey and Ian were about to head their separate ways when Tami, trailing ahead of them slightly, abruptly stopped, turning to face them. A fake, slightly mischievous smile painted her expression. 

“Hey, do you guys wanna go out to lunch?” 

The two men shared a look. The  same  exact expression Tami was quick to note.  Ruby was with Carl, despite the fact, his literal job was to handle children they -  Mickey - never trusted him with prolonged time babysitting. Another second of shared glances before Ian’s top lip twitched. Tami was quicker than him.

“C'mon guys” She huffed, arms straightening to her sides. Her body language like she was about to give the same type of tantrum their young daughter would. “I’m hungry. Need to eat ya know so your baby, that I’m carrying, can grow” her tone was singy songy clearly trying to distract them from the guilt trip she was trying to carry out. 

They didn’t lose the eye contact they maintained until Tami gave another little hum. “I’ll even pay, I just don’t wanna eat alone” then she hit then with these puppy eyes that suddenly made Ian realise why she was so effective in getting Lip to do things for her. 

“Yeah okay,” Ian volunteered, quickly moving to open the elevator door open for her. “I could eat” Mickey agreed, making his way in after Tami. 

 [read the rest on AO3 🍼]

[renee-writer]

Loved Her First Chapter 46

AO3

A/N This chapter is completely @omgbarbiegurl 's🥰🥰🥰

Edinburgh 1753

Ian was not sure the right choice had been made.

His Uncle was currently rotting away in Prison, and he was in the middle of a large city when he had never been further than Inverness.

And by some of the looks the other young men were giving him, he didn’t think he would live long enough to make it to the end of the week.

But, he had promised his Mam and Da that he would at least try, so try he would.

The first few days of classes went alright, he was able to write his Mam a lovely letter.

And then Thursday arrived.

When he entered his Mathematics class, he saw a new face.

The young man had a darker skin tone, long black hair, and seemed to be wearing an odd top shirt with beading; over what appeared to be a cloak.

The HeadMaster stepped to his podium in front of the class.

“Good Morning Young Men.”

“Good Morning Headmaster.” They all replied, Ian’s eyes were still on the strange new student.

“As I am sure many of you have noticed, we have a new student in our midst. May I present Young Aksel of Norway. Aksel was brought to us from a Jesuit School, let us treat him as we would any other.”

“Yes Headmaster.” The boys all dutifully said, but Ian noticed several of them eying Aksel with not so nice intent.

And his assumption came to pass the next day when he came around a corner and found 3 of their classmates giving Aksel a beating.

Ian yelled out for them to stop and ran into the fray.

He managed to run them off, but got a black eye for his trouble.

He helped Aksel up and smiled at him. “You alright?”

“Yes, thank you.” Aksel had a bit of an accent, but seemed to speak English very well.

“I apologize for them, they dinna seem to have any good sense, or know how to fight fair. Your lip is bleeding.”

“Oh.”

Before Aksel could touch it, Ian pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over.

“So, what happened?”

Aksel smirked and pressed the handkerchief to his lip. “Apparently my clothing sparked some outrage and when they tried to tell me so, I disagreed. They did…this.” He gestured to his face with his free hand.

“Dirty bastards. Do you wish to go to the infirmary?”

“No, I will probably be alright, I have received worse going against Reindeer.”

“Reindeer?”

“Yes, my people. That is what we do, herd and care for Reindeer. Also eat them, but that is not relevant.”

Ian chuckled and the pair started to walk.

“So you are from Norway, do all Norwegians care for Reindeer?”

“Ah no, that is just Sámi. What my people are.”

“Oh, your um…”

“Indigenous yes.”

“How did you end up here?”

Aksel sighed softly.

“Norway decided quite a long time ago that the Sámi are too wild and free, so we must be tamed. Laws were passed to stifle our clothing, our language, our culture. They forced my parents to send myself and my siblings to a Jesuit School. They beat us, tortured us, cut our hair, and silenced our tongues. But they could not tame us. At night, many of us would sneak out; barefoot in the snow, and pray to our ancestors. Beg for help. And the message we received was Endure. So, we did; and we still do.”

Ian was quiet for a long time, until he finally said.

“Your story is my story. After the battle of Culloden, the English silenced us. We are not allowed our kilts, our songs, our stories, or our language.”

Aksel smirked, and then winced. “Seems the English just can’t let anyone be different.”

“Seems so. Shall we noon?”

“Yes.”

It turned out that Aksel was studying Animal Husbandry to help on his family’s farm. That is how Ian met Jeremiah, and the 3 became very close.

It was a sad day when Aksel finished school with them and sailed back to Norway. He did promise to write them, and Ian gave him Lallybroch’s name before he and Jeremiah departed.

 

Lallybroch Present

When Aunt Jenny had requested some berries for a pie, Faith had quickly volunteered.

The children were helping with Harvest, so school was out for the month, and Faith was bored.

Her chores with the Chickens and ‘Coos’ could only take her so far. And helping Brianna clean her tiny croft house and try to prepare her for the baby had gotten more and more prickly lately. She was starting to feel the same way she did when she turned 16 and Bree was 13. Faith had of course started driving and had gained some freedom away from her little sister. Which had caused Brianna Ellen to live up to her storm like name.

It was happening again, so Faith did as she did when she was 16. She put some space between them so cooler heads would prevail, and they could speak without arguing.

So when Jenny had requested someone go Berry picking, Faith had snapped it up.

“Put yer cloak on, weather is gonna turn at some point. Dinna wander too far, easy to get lost.”

“I will be fine Auntie, I promise.” She pressed a kiss to her Aunt’s cheek and put on her cloak before heading out.

She waved to Ian in the field and waved the basket.

“Going Berry picking.”

He waved at her too and then went back to his work.

 

Berry picking started off just fine, she wished she had some nice gardening gloves to protect her hands from the thorns and brambles, but it wasn’t anything bad.

She moved deeper into the woods, sure that she was going to circle around the cave and then turn around and walk back towards Lalllybroch.

But the cave never appeared.

She frowned a little sure that she had walked the parallel path that led to the Cave.

“Well alright.”

Instead of turning around, her stubborn Fraser side came up and she kept walking deeper into the woods, sure she would come to the cave in time.

 

Ian frowned up at the sky, the Sun was starting to set. He handed his basket to Michael.

“Keep picking, I need to run into the house.”

Michael nodded and kept working.

First, Ian went to the kitchen to see if Mrs. Crook had seen her.

“No sir, I haven’t seen her since Mistress Murray sent her off to pick Berries.”

He then walked over to Brianna’s to see if she was there, maybe she had gotten the berries and gone to visit.

But Brianna had not seen her either.

Ian was worried now, so he went to the Laird’s Study to speak to his Uncle and Aunt.

He and his Auntie were leaning over the Ledgers when he walked in, (without knocking for which he would apologize for later).

“Faith went Berry picking earlier, and she is still not back, I am getting worried.”

His Auntie stood upright.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “No one has seen her; she should have been back quite a while ago.”

His Uncle’s face went stormy.

“We need to find her before it’s full dark. Ian, rally the men, get torches, lanterns, and supplies.”

Ian nodded and ran out of Study to do as he was told.

Jamie walked across the hall to where the babies were sleeping peacefully, Claire hot on his heels.

“I am going with you.”

“Sassenach, ye can’t. Ye must stay here with the bairns.”

“Jamie, my other bairn is out there, you can’t expect me to-”

“Aye, I do. Because ye ken I will find her and bring her home. Can’t say I won’t beat her arse for this, grown as she is.”

Claire laughed even as tears fell.

“Jamie…what if she-”

He pressed his hand to her mouth. “Dinna say it, she is not dead. She is probably lost, scared, and maybe hurt. But not dead.”

Claire nodded and watched as her husband dressed.

Once he was finished, she made sure the babies were still sleeping, and followed him outside to where a large group of men were gathered.

Ian stood at the front of the group looking grim.

Jeremiah stood next to him with Brianna standing next to him.

“I want to go as well Da.” She said firmly.

“No, a leannan. It’s too dangerous for you and the bairn. I need you to stay here with your Mother.”

“But Da-”

“Bree.” Her Mama said softly and rubbed her arm. “It’s okay.”

She nodded and Jamie kissed them both, before leading the men into the darkness of the woods.

 

Faith was feeling very, very stupid. She really should have turned back when she had the chance, but now she was horribly lost.

Not only that, but she had also managed to trip over a jutting root in the darkness and fell, hurting her ankle in the process.

She was pretty sure it wasn’t broken, but she was in such pain that all she could do was curl into thicketed area between some trees and hope that help was coming.

“At least I won’t starve.” She muttered as she popped a Blueberry into her mouth. “But I probably won’t want to eat another Berry as long as I live.”

 

Ian moved through the woods slowly, Jeremiah by his side.

Jeremiah’s eyes were more focused in front of them, Ian was more focused on the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Tracking, like Aksel showed us, remember.”

“Dinna ken what kind of good that will do.”

Ian stopped suddenly. “Someone stepped here, see how the dirt is disturbed, and this stick is broken.”

“Animal probably.”

Ian picked something off the broken stick and held it up. “Wearing a skirt?”

Ian stood up quickly and pulled out his knife.

“Gimme your hand.”

“What?”

Jeremiah swallowed hard when Ian looked at him. His face was tight, and his eyes glittered like two hard brown gems.

“Give. Me. Your. Hand.”

Jeremiah thrust his hand out and Ian ran his knife across the skin.

Jeremiah yelped as blood bubbled up.

“Ian what-”

“We use that to remember the trail.” Ian did the same to himself and started walking down the trail calling for Faith.

He and Jeremiah touched every other tree as they walked, leaving smears of blood to follow back.

“Faith! Where are you?”

 

Brianna paced for what felt like the 100th time, her eyes going to the window every single time.

“Bree sweetie, you need to sit down.”

Claire said gently as she nursed Caelan, while Ainslie slept in her cradle.

“I can’t. What if they don’t find her?” She did sit though because the baby was doing jumping jacks inside of her.

“Your Da, Uncle, Ian, and Jeremiah are prime hunters. They will find her.” Claire said with a firm confidence that she only partially felt.

Because she too wondered the same thing, how long could Faith be out in the woods before if they didn’t find her.

It wasn’t like the modern time they had left where you called for Help and Rescue. This was the 1700s and they only had themselves to rely on.

She switched sides with Caelan and patted his clod covered bum. “Just a little more baby, come on.”

The door opened and Jenny appeared, her face was lined with worry.

“See anything yet?”

Brianna shook her head. “Not yet.”

Jenny nodded and sighed. “Ye must forgive me Sister, this is my fault.”

Claire shook her head. “Jenny, you couldn’t have known. It’s far from your fault.”

She nodded and Claire unlatched Caelan and handed him to Brianna. She partially tied her laces and wrapped her arms around Jenny.

“They will find her, I know it.”

 

Jamie moved over a few logs and lifted his lantern high.

“Faith Elizabeth! This is your Da, answer me!”

Silence pressed back against him, and he sighed softly.

“Jamie.” Ian said. “It might be wise to wait until first light, we canna find anything in this darkness. We canna chance getting anyone else lost.”

Jamie puffed out a breath. He didn’t want to return to Claire empty handed, but at the same time. The men were his responsibility.

“A little longer and then aye, first light.”

 

Faith was dozing off a little, her hair tangling in the thick branches around her when something jolted her awake.

What had done it? Was there an animal? Oh God she would give her life for a flashlight.

She swallowed hard, trying to peer into the darkness to see what it was.

Suddenly a voice called out, very close to her.

“Faith!”

She gasped softly and ignoring the pain in her ankle, she threw herself forward onto her knees.

“I-Ian! Ian!”

 

Ian held up his hand for Jeremiah to stop.

“I heard something.”

He listened, listened so close.

And then he heard it. A small voice gasping out his name.

“Faith! Christ!”

He looked around, sweeping the lantern left and right as Jeremiah did the same.

It was on his fifth sweep that a pair of eyes caught the glow of the lantern.

Familiar eyes.

“Faith!”

He fell to his knees and started pulling apart the branches of the thicket in front of him, Jeremiah did the same until they had it opened enough for Faith to spill out in front of them.

“Faith!”

“Oh Ian!” She burst into tears and clawed her way to get to him.

He beat her to it and scooped her into his arms, and with Jeremiah’s help got to his feet.

“Can ye walk?”

She shook her head. “My ankle.”

Ian nodded and looked at Jeremiah.

“You run ahead, go to my Mam. Have her give you some oil and gunpowder. Put it on an arrow, light it, and fire it into the sky.”

“But-”

“Would ye just do as I say ye numpty!”

Jeremiah nodded and ran ahead of them, following the marked trees.

He shifted Faith in his arms and started to walk. She was warm, alive, and whole. That was all that mattered now.

 

Jamie and Ian had just turned. They had agreed they would call the men in, get a few hours sleep and start again at first light. He was sure Faith would be okay through the night, his girl was tough.

But he didn’t want to face the whiskey eyes that waited for him back at the house.

Suddenly a large explosion appeared in the night sky. Followed by another.

Ian frowned. “What in God’s name?”

“Dinna ken, let’s find out.” He sounded a whistle, high and clear, sure the men would be following the explosions as well, but just in case his whistle would call them in.

 

Jenny, Claire, and Brianna were gathered around Jeremiah.

Handing him arrow after arrow to fire into the sky.

After the 6th one, Men began pouring out of the woods, Jamie at the lead looking confused.

Claire ran to him and threw her arms around him.

“Ian and Jeremiah found her; Ian is bringing her out.”

Jamie let out a whoosh of breath and chuckled.

“I might have to retract my statement of her being pure when they marry.”

Claire smiled and hit his chest at his bad joke.

“Jamie.”

5 minutes later, Ian came out of the darkness, carrying Faith in his arms.

Jamie and Claire ran toward him, and pulled them both in for a hug.

“Her ankle is hurt Auntie.”

Claire nodded. “We will see to her right away. Jamie, can you bring her upstairs for me?”

He nodded and took her from Ian’s arms. He paused for a moment and smiled at him.

“Ye did well. Very well. I owe you.”

Ian flushed and nodded.

 

Later, Faith was settled in a warm bath with her ankle propped up on the edge, wrapped in some stiff cloth which covered the Ace Bandages. Claire had declared that it was just a sprain, not a break. Faith would have to rest and stay off her foot for a time, but she would be fine.

She apologized to everyone and promised not to do it again. And her Da told her if she did such a thing again, he swore he would wear her ass out even though she was 18 years old.

And then he hugged her so tight.

She heard the door open behind her and turned to see who was coming in.

And her mouth dropped open when she saw Ian.

“Ian! What are you doing? If Da catches you in here, he will throw you out the window.”

He smirked. “I have permission to be in here, but I am not to do anything untoward.”

She laughed softly and he walked over and kneeled next to her.

He couldn’t see anything for all the bubbles, but he was young, and his imagination was strong.

He was so lost in his thoughts; he didn’t hear her question at first.

“What?”

She laughed and rubbed her hand across his face. “I asked if you would comb out my hair for me.”

He nodded and grabbed the comb from the table before slowly moving it through her curls.

“In case no one has told you, you scared the hell out of me today.”

“I know. I scared the hell out of myself.”

“Dinna ken what I will do if you do it again.”

“Da already said he would spank my ass for it.”

“I can appreciate that, and might have to get a few licks in myself.”

She snorted and shook her head.

“I am not going to do it again, at all. In fact, if I go Berry picking again, it will be too soon.”

He chuckled and moved the comb so he could tilt her head back.

“Faith, I want to tell you, if you ever doubted it. I love you desperately.”

“Me getting lost confirmed that?” She asked as her eyes sparkled at him.

“Aye, and if I can talk Uncle into it, would you marry me sooner? Like maybe next month?”

She smiled gently and touched his cheek gently.

“Any particular reason since I am not pregnant?”

He swallowed hard. “Life is too short, I dinna want to wait for you to be my wife.”

She closed her eyes to fight the tears, but when she opened them, she smiled.

“Yes. Though I think this little incident will probably make him hold on to me tighter.”  

“I am patient.”

She laughed softly and lifted her head to meet his lips with her own. 

[arrowflier]

humor prompt: Mickey and Ian and assorted milkovich and gallagher siblings hanging out and Mickey finds out that Ian and one of his brothers hooked up once 😂 Ian’s like “it was one time we were drunk!!!l” defensive but the brothers really playing it up to annoy Mickey

This is super silly and super short, but what a funny idea!

It’s a normal Friday night at the Alibi. Kev and Vee might be gone, but Carl has really stepped it up in their absence. The place is busier than it’s been in years, honestly, and only a handful of patrons are the kind of cop that has Mickey sneering as he slips past them back to the table of assorted Gallaghers and Milkoviches.

He’s in a pretty good mood. Business is booming, he and Ian are doing great, the most decent of his relatives are out of the clink and hanging around again. It’s been a good year for them all.

He slides a beer across to Ian, who flashes him a grateful smile before continuing his conversation with Iggy, who had dragged himself away from his newest girl to join them for once.

“I mean, I’ll have to talk to Mick,” Ian’s saying, “but I don’t see why we couldn’t. At least on a trial basis.”

Mickey eyes his husband a little warily as he sits down next to him with his own drink, pushing against Ian with his thigh until the other man scoots over on the bench to make room.

“What are we talkin’ about?” he asks, and Ian nods to Iggy across the table.

“Your brother needs a job, a real one,” he starts, and Mickey shifts, surprised. He looks at Iggy with raised eyebrows, but Iggy just shrugs.

“Thought we could hook him up, we need more guys anyway,” Ian continues. “Someone,” he emphasizes, looking at Mickey, “keeps scaring them all off.”

Mickey snorts.

“For good fucking reason,” he claims, then nods. “Yeah, alright, why not?” He nudges Ian in the side as Iggy perks up, and adds, “at least I don’t have to worry about him hitting on my husband.”

For some reason, that makes Iggy laugh, and Ian immediately goes tense.

“Dude,” Iggy chokes out. “Do you remember that time—”

“Nope,” Ian chimes in. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Ig, can I get you another beer?” He tries to wave down Carl, not meeting Mickey’s narrowed eyes.

“What am I missing here?” Mickey asks as his brother continues to chortle to himself, Ian’s face turning almost as red as his hair.

“Nothing,” Ian tries to say, waving more frantically to catch Carl’s eye, but Iggy just leans forward over the table, looking gleeful.

“He never told you?” Iggy crows in Mickey’s face, and Mickey can feel his eyelid twitch.

“Told me what?” he asks quietly. Ian stills next to him, but Iggy is, as always, oblivious.

“That time your boy came home drunk off his ass from Boystown and felt me up on the sofa!”

Iggy laughs and laughs and laughs, and everyone else goes quiet around them.

Mickey looks at Ian.

“You what?” he growls, and Ian swallows.

“It wasn’t like that,” Ian tries to placate him. “I was drunk, like he said, and you had been on the couch when I left, so I—”

“So you went at my brother?” Mickey asks, voice rising.

Ian flails next to him, hands waving before slapping down on the table.

“No, I just kissed him!” he says, then winces when he realizes what he said.

“You kissed him?” Mickey exclaims, even louder.

Iggy has mostly stopped laughing, but still hasn’t cottoned on to just how angry Mickey seems.

“Yeah, it was hilarious, man. He was so drunk he thought I was you, and I was so high I just went with it—”

“Iggy, you fucker, you went along with it? You kissed my fucking husband, you dick!”

“I mean,” Iggy offers, “he wasn’t your husband yet?”

Silence.

Ian meets his husband’s eyes, and isn’t sure he likes what he sees there.

“Phillip,” Mickey finally barks without taking his eyes off Ian. “Get your ass over here.”

“Um…why?” Lip asks cautiously from the other end of the table where he had been watching the drama unfold, and earns himself a patented Milkovich glare.

“So I can give Ian a taste of his own medicine, why do you think?” Mickey says, and Lip blanches.

“Whoa, no thanks man,” he replies, hands up as if in surrender. “I’m taken.”

Mickey snorts. “Tami won’t care, Tami loves me.” That much was true, though no one, including Mickey, really understood why. “‘Sides, you know I’m that four percent, bitch.”

“What—no you’re—Ian!” Lip hisses, and Ian pretends not to know what’s happening.

Mickey sighs when it’s apparent that Lip isn’t going to play along.

“What a bunch of pussies,” he mumbles, going for his drink. Unfortunately, it’s almost empty, and he grimaces.

Than Carl is there with a pitcher to refill it, pouring fresh cool beer into Mickey’s glass with a grin.

“I’ll do it,” Carl volunteers as he tilts the pitcher up again and reaches over Mickey to set it in the middle of the table.

He doesn’t even give Mickey a chance to respond before swooping in and planting one on his shock-parted lips.

“There, you’re both even again,” Carl says simply, and then he’s gone, back to the bar and the patrons that await him there.

No one speaks for a long moment. Then:

“Did he just?” Ian asks faintly, and Mickey absently licks his lips, tasting someone else’s chapstick on them.

“Uh.” He coughs. Rubs a hand on his jeans. “Yup.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Ian says calmly. “And then we’re washing your mouth out with soap. Who knows where Carl has been.”

Iggy was sure to have been way worse back when Ian macked on him, but one look at his husband and Mickey wisely chose to keep silent.

"Always knew he had a fucking crush on you," Ian mutters darkly. "Fucking hero worship, that's what that is."

Mickey catches himself starting to preen at the idea, and shuts that shit down quick.

Across the table, Iggy starts laughing again.

"Damn, little bro," he cries, "you got three Gallaghers hot for you now?"

Mickey grins as Ian flushes with ire, but it's short-lived as Iggy keeps talking.

"I should call Colin and Tony back over here," he muses, turning to look behind them all where the two are playing pool. "Even out the score again."

Ian is the one grinning, now.

"Maybe you should get Jamie down here, too," he says. "Because I always thought that Debbie--"

Mickey is grabbing Ian by the arm and dragging him out of the bar before he can even finish the thought.

"You're fucking mine, Ian," Mickey growls into his ear later, when they're alone in their apartment again. "Never fucking forget it."

"Never, Mickey," Ian promises. "Even if Iggy is a pretty good kisser."

He laughs when Mickey hits him, knowing that if they had a sofa, he'd be sleeping on it.

But they don't, so he spoons up behind his grumbling husband and links their hands as they fall asleep.

[cloudygeorge]

best friend duties

pairing: Ian Gallagher x reader (platonic)

summary: you’re Ian’s best friend, and you deserve the best

warnings: cursing, brief description of an attack, injured reader

Ian was tired, so very tired. Because he loved you, and you were his best friend, but man were you a handful. It wasn’t like you tried to be, but Ian took his best friend duties very seriously when it came to you. You weren’t like other people he knew. Despite growing on the Southside, you were sweet. Of course, there were some traits you didn’t have a choice but to get.

You could hold your own in a fight, having learned how to use someone’s weight against them, and you always carried a switchblade with you. But with that being said, you only fought if absolutely necessary. If someone started yelling at you, you were the type to go silent and put your head down in hopes that they would stop. It made both Ian and Mandy, your two best friends, your volunteer bodyguards.

Which is why they were suspicious as hell when Elliot Parker suddenly decided he needed you to tutor him.

“Absolutely not,” Mandy denied immediately, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m just going to be explaining his economics homework to him, what is so bad about that?”

“Everything,” Ian narrowed his eyes. “And the fact that you don’t see that only further proves that you shouldn’t go.”

“Ian-”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you do that,” he cut you off, making you glare at him.

“I don’t remember asking for permission.”

Ian sighed, dropping his head. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that Elliot has been failing since practically the third grade, why does he suddenly care? We know he’s a dick. I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I can look out for myself,” you mumbled even as Ian pulled you into a hug, sharing a glance with Mandy.

You’d be fine. You were sure of it because you had been sitting next to Elliot for just over an hour, trying to explain the relation between supply and demand. You were also sure that he was either the dumbest person alive, or he was playing you. You glanced at the time, before shoving your stuff in your bag. “I should get going, but just study the notes I gave you, and you should be fine.”

You shot him a soft smile, and as you went to shoulder your bag, his hand shot out and snatched your wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”

His hand squeezed until you gasp in pain trying to shake him off. You opened your mouth to tell him you had to go, but he used the vice-like grip on your wrist to yank you back into your seat. “Why don’t you just sit here and look pretty for a moment?”

It felt like if he squeezed any harder, your wrist would snap in his hand, so you nodded, quickly, sitting back down. The cocky smirk the athlete always wore now had a malicious glint as he finally let go of your hand. “Here’s what I’m thin-”

Elliot cut himself off as you swung your bag with all your might at his face. You didn’t bother waiting to see what happened, darting out of the library.

You knocked frantically on the Gallagher’s front door, both out of breath and crying. You cradled your injured arm to your chest as you glanced behind you, even though you were sure he didn’t follow you.

“Y/N?” Lip answered the door, confused. His eyes raked your frame for any sign of damage. “What’s wrong, why are you-” His eyes fell on your wrist, and his gaze hardened. He grabbed your shoulder to gently pull you inside. “Oh, fucking hell. Ian!”

The Gallagher in question sat on his living room couch, but when he saw you shuffling behind Lip, he shot up. “Y/N? What the hell happened?”

You tried to answer, but you let out a quiet sob so Ian pulled you into a hug. “It’s okay, come on you’re okay.” He had a theory of what happened, but when he caught sight of your wrist, and heard your uneven breathing, he knew he was right.

You were only crying because you felt so embarrassed that he and Mandy were right. You should have listened to them. After all, they only wanted the best for you, you should have listened.

“Hey, don’t say that. I just want you to be okay. You weren’t wrong for disagreeing.”

You groaned. “How could I have been so stupid? You guys tried to tell me, and I just didn’t listen.”

Ian pushed you far enough away to hold you by the shoulders, and make you look him in the eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You’re not stupid for wanting to see the best in people. You are kind, intelligent, and amazing. I never want to hear you talking like that again.”

“But-”

“No, okay, he was an asshole, but that doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person for hoping he wouldn’t be.” He kissed your head. Ian took his best friend duties seriously because he grew up with you. He took them seriously because he knew firsthand that you deserved everything beautiful, and as your best friend he was determined to help you get it.

[callivich]

Outsider POV Prompts - Part 2

Part 1

Prompts for fics, headcanons, or discussion, etc. Interpret these however you like and feel free to use them as just a jumping off point, you don’t have to stick to the exact prompt or characters mentioned! Btw, if anything along these lines has been written, please do recommend them to me!

Dedicated to @gallavich-x because she writes such amazing outsider POVs. (The first one is unintentionally similar to something you’ve written but I’ve left it in there anyway.)

A very sweet and geeky guy taking his GED at a community college is so pleased to find himself sitting in the front row of the classroom with an extremely handsome and very friendly redhead. He develops a crush on this guy, Ian. Over the weeks, as he works up the nerve to ask Ian out, he listens to some of the gossip from a couple of other students - one of the most shocking pieces being that apparently two students in the class are fresh out of jail and working on getting their GEDs in exchange for shortened parole. He doesn’t know who for sure, but he would bet money that one of them is the rude guy with the finger tattoos who sits in the back row and never looks like he’s paying attention.

After leaving prison, Mickey and Ian are in court-mandated therapy separately, but with the same therapist. The therapist quickly realises that they often talk about each other, and finds their versions of the same stories very interesting.

(Set immediately after the Lip and Mickey fight in 11 x 10) It was an accident, Lip was sure of that. Mickey had the upper hand and Lip had twisted or shoved him or just moved in an awkward way without thinking, because…shit, they were fighting, and suddenly Mickey had hit his head, and there was blood and Franny was crying and Ian was pushing Lip out of the way. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, Mickey regained consciousness, after a stressful few minutes, but Ian was angry, and Lip didn’t know what to say.

Iggy hasn’t been in touch with his family much. He gets out of court ordered rehab, after prison, and needs a place to stay. The only number he has for any of his family is Sandy’s. She can’t help him out but she gives him Mickey’s address and phone number. He probably should have tried to call first, but fuck it, he didn’t. When he arrives at Mickey’s place, he wonders if Sandy got it wrong - his little brother can’t really be living on the Westside?

5 moments from the perspective of five different dispensary owners. What do they think of Ian and Mickey and their security business? Do they know they’re married?

Mickey or Ian gets hurt and they have to call an ambulance. The EMTs arrive to find two guys arguing - one is insisting he is absolutely fine, the other fussing and getting in the way of the EMTs. It takes awhile for them to realise these two are married.

When Lip gets a mild case of COVID, Ian volunteers to look after him. So Lip heads to the Westside apartment to stay with Ian, and Mickey goes to stay with pregnant Tami and baby Freddie. Lip and Ian get used to spending more time together than they have in ages and Tami and Mickey get to know each other better.

On a fairly empty flight to Hawaii, two bored flight attendants find they can’t stop observing a couple who are (possibly?) on their honeymoon and (definitely?) not used to flying.

Fiona is heading home late on night after a date, taking a detour to clear her head, she walks a longer route than normal back to the house. That’s when she spots Ian making his way into the dugouts with a guy….a very familiar guy. But that can’t be Mickey Milkovich? Can it? And why are they so friendly? Talking and laughing….and oh god. She leaves before she sees too much, but it’s obvious what they are doing.

While Ian is off training a new employee for their security business, Mickey needs someone with him. Carl offers since he has a day off. It’s the longest time he’s spent alone with Mickey. He decides this is the perfect time to play twenty questions with Mickey and get to know a bit more about his relationship with Ian.

When Debbie hears Ian and Mickey joking about calling themselves “gallavich”, she questions why she and Sandy wouldn’t be “gallavich” too. They debate whether it’s “gallavich” or “millagher”, and if so, which couple gets which nickname. Despite the joking, she can’t stop thinking if she and Sandy are going to go the distance, like Ian and Mickey.

Parole Officer Larry is very much looking forward to meeting his two new parolees. Especially because apparently they are a couple. This is something that he’s never dealt with before. He’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not Ian and Mickey.

5 thoughts about Ian and Mickey that Frank has over the years, from discovering them together up to their wedding.

A prison guard watches as Ian Gallagher is released. It’s obvious something was going on between him and Milkovich. But he’d assumed it was the usual prison sex deal, so when Gallagher turns up for visiting….it’s a surprise. And it’s even more of a surprise when he continues to turn up for visiting and starts to write Mickey letters, and then is there waiting for Mickey when he’s released.

When both of them finally know about Ian and Mickey, Mandy and Lip discuss their siblings and their relationship.

As Kev and Vee clean up the bar after Mickey’s coming out, they discuss Ian and Mickey’s relationship and argue over who figured it out first.

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi so @self-absorbed-pretty-boy (💖💖) sent me an AMAZING list of prompts a week ago and while i had truly no time this week to do as much writing as i wanted, here is a 4+1 thing i whipped up between classes that is pure husband fluff— i hope u all enjoy<3

prompt: the first time mickey calls ian his husband in front of a stranger (could be a cashier, a pharmacist, a cop, some weed buying college kids, you decide)

--

The first time that Mickey did it, he didn’t even really realize it— it was a slow Tuesday morning, just after their “honeymoon,” when he woke to the abrasive, slanted sunlight streaming in through the blinds. He immediately noticed that the house was silent, surprisingly quiet from any of the classic Gallagher clamor that usually bounced through the thin walls in the mornings, especially these days with Franny and Liam in their final weeks of the school year—and the absence of noise made Mickey curious enough to rub his eyes and open them, finally pulling himself out from the last warm dregs of sleep.

Ian’s arms were wrapped around him, a comforting spoon bear-hugging him in close, and Mickey took a moment just to take in the sensation of the solid, sleeping weight of him— he could feel the rise and fall of Ian’s ribcage pressed against his back and the soft fabric of the t-shirt that clung to Ian’s chest, the only barrier between him and Ian’s pink, sleep-warmed skin. Mickey rustled in Ian’s arms, reaching for his phone on the bedside table; and no wonder there were no cabinets slamming or lunches being packed or Debbie screaming that they had to get out the door— it was nearly noon for some fucking reason, and he and Ian were still sleeping like babies.

Which, okay, maybe that had to do with the fact that last night involved lots of tugs of hair and searing kisses and bodies pressed together until late into the night— Mickey felt his lips tick upward at the memory of it. But still— ever since returning a few days ago from their honeymoon in the dingy motel with the musty satin sheets, they had both been tired; the last few months had been compounded by a release from prison, a murdered P.O., the engagement shitshow, and a wedding to top it all off, and each incident had pushed a sense of normalcy more and more off-kilter, until finally they both just had to crash.

There was no mistaking that this was harder, more draining, for Ian; he was trying to sink back into a routine existence in the Gallagher house after all of the events of the past few months, and it was clear that he was still reeling from the shift— Mickey could see it now, in the way that Ian was so deeply sleeping well past noon, a dead weight pressed close against him.

Mickey scooted himself up to a seated position on the bed, letting Ian’s arm limply fall off of him and cascade onto the bedsheets with a muted thud—and again, he let himself take a moment to just look at Ian, his mouth parted and breathing steadily, the light coming in through the blinds illuminating the constellations of freckles smattered across his face and cheekbones, threads of sunlight weaving between the strands of bright, rusty hair on the top of his head that were partly splayed onto the pillow. Since getting home Ian had been slicking his hair back less now, and letting it grow wiry and wild and curled—Mickey fucking loved it, and he couldn’t resist reaching a gentle hand out to brush Ian’s hair back from his forehead, feeling its mossy give. He took it all in; the tides of Ian’s even breathing, his fully relaxed face, and the blossoming blue rings of exhaustion that were still there under his eyes, even in his sleep; and Mickey felt a swell of gratefulness that Ian was still sleeping soundly, that he could sleep all fucking day if he needed to, at least for now while they were just getting back and settling into a rhythm—if Ian deserved anything, he deserved to recharge.

Mickey silently sat beside him, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone and every so often running a hand through Ian’s hair—because, fuck it, his husband was sleeping next to him, soft and warm, and something about touching Ian always grounded him. He was leaning propped on a pillow he’d shoved between his back and the wall, and was just beginning to contemplate putting on the tattered robe he’d found in one of the stray bedroom drawers and dragging himself downstairs to make some coffee when he heard a buzz from Ian’s phone on the nightstand, and saw the screen flash with a silent alarm:

“PICK UP MEDS”

So ultimately that was the reason why Mickey forced himself to crawl out of bed that morning— or afternoon was more accurate— and detached himself from the cocoon of his husband’s warmth to go for what was usually Ian’s own Tuesday morning walk every month before his shitty shifts with Paula to go over to the pharmacy and get his meds. He bounded down the front steps of the Gallagher house, turning the corner to walk down a few blocks to where the sagging houses turned to the brick storefronts and neon signs of the few ramshackle businesses that were left on the Southside. Since getting back a few days ago, he and Ian had barely done anything except lounge around the house with everyone, settling in— and now Mickey realized how long it had been since he’d gone for a walk outside, breathing in the not-so-fresh Chicago air that smelled of gas exhaust and cigarette smoke, but also of something earthen and familiar. Sunbeams were radiating off of the sidewalk, and the air was cool, like the late spring weather had finally just broken into something crisp and clear— Mickey let his feet carry him over the pavement past the dingy corner store with the faded sign hanging crooked above the awning, and then two more doors down to the business with the glowing red and white sign that read “SAVE RITE PHARMACY.”

Mickey entered the pharmacy, hearing the tinkle of a bell as he pushed through the glass door.

There was no one really in the store on a Tuesday afternoon— his eyes adjusted to the waves of artificial light bouncing off the white shelves that contrasted with the soft glow outside. Mickey made his way through the aisles to the pharmacy counter at the back of the store, and was met with a middle aged woman in a lab coat typing on a computer.

“Hey. I’m, uh, pickin’ up for Gallagher.” Mickey slid his ID over the linoleum counter, quickly doing a double-take to make sure that this was a real ID and not one of his fake ones; not that it would really matter anyways, no one was getting high off of whatever shit Ian was taking on the daily.

The woman glanced at Mickey’s ID over the rim of her classes, then clicked the mouse a couple of times.

“Gallagher. Just one moment.”

She turned and filed through a few organized-looking bins, and retrieved a crinkly white paper bag and placed it on the countertop. Mickey stood there in silence, listening to the heavy thud of keys typing on the desktop computer.

“And who are you in relation to Mr. Gallagher?”

Mickey opened his mouth—and for just a millisecond, he let himself pause. Usually he just said “partner,” or sometimes “family” when the situation required him to be vague—but in this moment, he had a flashing realization. They were married—and today he got to drop that word, and all the weight of it, into the empty aisles of the drugstore on a Tuesday afternoon. Mickey cleared his throat.

“S’my husband.”

Mickey couldn’t help it—there was some weird, warm, giddy rush in his chest as he said it. It wasn’t natural yet, and he almost fumbled over the word as it fell out of his mouth, like a kid trying to swear for the first time— but he said it. And the pharmacist barely flinched—which, thank fuck for that, after the whole geriatric florist incident a few months ago. She just gave him a curt nod, a half-smile, and she handed Mickey the paper bag and a printed receipt and sent him on his way.

And so what if Mickey stopped at the grimy corner store on the way home and bought a pack of cigarettes for himself and a fucking Kind bar for Ian, because he knew he liked that shit— and so what if there was a little extra bounce in his step as he walked back from the store, his arms swinging by his sides in the cool, early summer breeze as his feet hit the sunwarmed pavement and he headed home to his husband who was curled up in the warm safety of their bed, sound asleep.

His husband.

**

The second time it also just sort of… tumbled out of Mickey’s mouth, a little more naturally this time. It was a day or two later, and he and Ian had finally rejoined the land of the living— and to Debbie, that meant that the two of them were now available to be drafted into a circuit of random chores and errands with lists of shit to pick up, tasks that Ian tried to squeeze in between shifts at his new warehouse job and that Mickey mostly just ignored. But much to Mickey’s dismay, there was no getting out of their assignment this afternoon; Debbie had some hotshot welding gig on the Northside and Frank was nowhere to be fucking found, and Liam needed a parent or guardian to come to his parent-teacher conference at the end of the school year. Liam had softly voiced this information in the swirling hurricane of conversation at dinner the evening before, and Ian couldn’t resist saying that he and Mickey would go, even though Mickey had repeatedly kicked his shins hard under the kitchen table and passed him a series of dagger-like glares. Mickey didn’t realize why Ian had volunteered the both of them to go to this shit— it was Ian’s brother, not his— but after lots of long glances and fucking puppy-dog eyes and some very intense manipulation the night before, when Ian whispered into the crook of Mickey’s neck at a very inconvenient time and said with a mischievous smile “C’mon Mick, I don’t want to go alone”—well, let’s just say that was how Mickey ended up weaving through the sweltering, barren hallways of Liam’s public school on some random muggy summer afternoon with Ian, trying to find Liam’s teacher’s classroom.

As much as Mickey did not want to be here right now, in the paint-chipped locker-lined halls of the public school that mostly just brought up a lot of angsty memories of dirt under his fingernails and cardboard signs written with sharpies and pasted up with duct tape, the whole thing also felt vaguely nostalgic— like those days before everything went to shit and he’d gotten married to Svet, just after he’d busted the fuck out of juvie and was trying with all of his might to force down all the tidal waves of feelings he had about gangly fucking teenage Gallagher with his crew cut and his camo pants—and walking through the halls next to Ian, feeling his tangible presence beside him, was enough to keep Mickey’s mind from veering into other darker places about his own wasted potential.  

“Where the fuck is this room, anyways?” Mickey huffed out. All the rows of lockers looked the fucking same, and all Mickey wanted to do right now was go home and lay back on the couch and sip a cold beer, instead of standing in this stuffy hallway with sweat dripping down his neck.

Ian playfully elbowed Mickey between his ribs. “We’re in Liam’s school, Mick. You’re not supposed to say ‘fuck.’”

“Fuck you.” He flipped Ian off for good measure.

Ian halted in front of a closed classroom door, glancing down at the slightly crumpled piece of paper that Liam had written his class number on.

“I think this is it.” Ian softly rapped his knuckles on the classroom door, and a young woman in a pencil skirt appeared to open it.

“Hi, lovely to meet you both. You must be Liam’s dads?”

Mickey spluttered out a laugh, a surprised noise catching in his throat. His first feeling was a flicker of annoyance at this random lady, that always popped up anytime someone so immediately knew he was gay, which probably had to do with some deeply internalized shit— but his second feeling was a warm sort of astonishment. Liam’s dads?

He and Ian could be someone’s fucking parents someday. Fuck.

Ian’s cheeks had turned slightly pink, like he was equally as affected by the assumption— so Mickey spoke up, trying not to sound like his insides were squirming as much as they were.

“Nah, man, you got it all wrong. I mean— not totally wrong, he is my husband. But we’re not his dads.”

Ian’s ears nearly perked up when he heard the word— this was the first time they’d called each other husbands so casually out in the world, while they were both in each other’s presence. A crooked smile crept onto Ian’s face, and he tentatively reached out to ensnare Mickey’s fingers in his.

“Yup. Husbands.”

Liam’s teacher just looked at them, raising her eyebrows expectantly, like she was slightly confused.

“Alright. So, who are you to Liam, then?”

Ian let out a quick breath of a laugh. “Oh, right. I’m Liam’s brother.”

And as Ian led him by the wrist to sit beside him in a fucking uncomfortable plastic chair meant for ten-year-olds, chattering away with Liam’s teacher, all Mickey could think about was the blood rushing hot, hotter than usual between his ears.

He didn’t know if he’d ever get tired of calling Ian his husband.

**

Mickey had never given much thought to pet names, or any sort of frilly bullshit like that, with Ian—every time that he called Ian something that wasn’t just “Ian” or “Gallagher,” it was some punchy and witty nickname that he’d concocted in the moment in an attempt to make a smile burst onto Ian’s face, with “sugar-tits” and “babyface” being his personal all-time favorites; but never any of that sappy bullshit that other couples called each other, like “babe” or “honey” or other garbage.

But, fuck. Fuck if Mickey didn’t love the fact that he could call Ian his “husband” now, that he was allowed to just do that, whenever anyone was in earshot.

It was a late night at the Alibi, the first time that most of the Gallaghers had been out of the house since the pandemic started; the mayor had finally loosened some restrictions, and Kev had sent a text to the Gallagher family group chat with way too many cork-popping emojis telling everyone to come by the Alibi after their respective evening shifts—and when he and Ian had walked through the door nearly half of the neighborhood was there, including Sandy and Debbie, and a bunch of random Southsiders that most of them hadn’t seen for weeks or months.

Kev had immediately handed Mickey a foamy beer as he walked through the door, and readily poured Ian a shot of Jameson—and now the room was pressed tight with bodies, full of random-ass neighbors puffing on cigarettes and some music playing low, the air hanging heavy with the fog of secondhand smoke and boisterous conversation. At one point, after taking one too many sips of something, Sandy had convinced Kev to give her control of the aux cord—and now the music turned more upbeat, and some of the younger people in the room had started dancing, which obviously caused his over-enthusiastic husband to grab Mickey’s wrist from where he was seated at the bar and pull him into the crowd. And maybe it was just the fact that Mickey hadn’t been around so many people for so long, or maybe it was the fact that he could see that Ian was having a good time, his cheeks flushed and glowing in the dim lights— or maybe it was just that he’d had one or two more beers than usual, if he was being totally honest, but Mickey was feeling happy and light, feeling a buzzing in his veins.

And now they were dancing, and Mickey was just kind of shuffling side-to-side and probably looked ridiculous but he didn’t really care, and the room was getting hazier with smoke, and he could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks and the bass of the speakers thrumming in his chest and the rising tide of his pulse and he felt alive, alive—

And Ian’s body was pressed next to his, doing that stupid fucking dance move he always did where he just kind of bopped up and down with his hands raised above his head with the energy of a golden retriever— and Mickey couldn’t fucking help but lean in, pressing his lips close to meet the shell of Ian’s ear; and yes, they’d been married for a couple of months now, but he couldn’t help the airy feeling rising up, bubbling up in his stomach from the heat of the flames licking at his insides that made him whisper:

“We’re fucking husbands.”

Mickey knew Ian could feel his hot breath in his ear, could smell the whiskey on his lips—and Ian’s eyes lit up, his mouth splitting open in a tipsy grin.

Ian hummed and tilted Mickey’s chin up and pressed their lips together— there was light dancing in his eyes, and Mickey loved him, and he was his husband.

“Yeah. Husbands.” Ian murmured the words against Mickey’s mouth under the music, into the air between their lips.

“Fuck.”

And in that moment, Mickey realized that he’d never really known happiness before, not really— because nothing could fucking compare to the feeling of having his hands wrapped tight around his husband’s warm hips, while Ian’s arms were slung over his shoulders and Mickey could burrow his face into the sweet skin at the crook of Ian’s neck…

And yeah, maybe Mickey could get into the idea of calling Ian his husband a lot more often.

**

It was the evening on some run-of-the-mill weeknight after their security runs, and they were at that fancy hotel gym they’d gotten a trial membership of weeks before— Ian had loved the fancy weight machines and the steamed towels so much (and let’s face it, Mickey had also definitely enjoyed the fact that he could check guys out in the steam room) that Mickey had used some cash he had on hand (of questionable origin, which just made Ian frustratedly roll his eyes) to get them both a membership at the place for a month— and Mickey had to be honest, working out under mood lighting and mirrored walls with a bunch of chiseled gay dudes beat hauling kegs around the musty back room of the Alibi any day.

So now, they made a habit of stopping by the gym after work, typically parting ways after stripping off their camo by the lockers to go do their own thing in the weight room. At the current moment, Mickey was standing off to the side of the open floor plan, leaning against a weight rack and curling a 40 pound dumbbell into his bicep— but more accurately what he was doing was drooling over his husband, who was across the room with his tank top sticking to his skin, energetically hitting a static punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Mickey let his eyes bore holes into Ian from across the room, watching the sweat gleam on Ian’s body, watching his muscles ripple—and fuck, he was married to a fucking Greek god, like those fucking sculptures he saw in textbooks at school that made his blood run hot when he stared too hard, wasn’t he?

Mickey was so fixated on watching Ian that he barely noticed when his upper arm started to burn, and he realized that he’d forgotten to keep track of how many times he’d curled upward. Fuck it. Mickey bent down to place the weight back on the rack—and that was when he noticed another guy, some scrawny, slender dude wearing a neon-green tank top and with fucking hot pink sweatbands on his wrists, who had his eyes locked in on Ian from across the room almost intently as Mickey did.

Tank Top noticed Mickey staring at him and sheepishly smiled, putting a hand on his hip—and then in the spirit of light gym-time chatter, something Mickey was definitely not interested in entertaining, the dude opened his mouth.

“You think he’s gay?”

The old Mickey, Mickey from a few years ago, would’ve pummeled this guy’s sorry ass for even looking at Ian the wrong way, and even Mickey from a few months ago would’ve felt some sort of anxious panic or jealous fear that someone other than him desired Ian— but today there was a heavy band of silver pressing into Mickey’s finger, and he could feel the solid weight of it. So Mickey just raised his eyebrows, and gave a passive reply as he placed his dumbbell down and strolled past Tank Top Dude to walk across the room towards Ian:

“He’s my husband, asswipe.”

**

It was late— all there was in the empty room was a half-deflated air mattress, sinking under their weight. The streetlight beamed in through the paper-thin curtains— they would definitely have to invest in a better pair to block out the light, but that was an issue for tomorrow.

Right now Mickey and Ian were just sprawling out on the mattress, letting themselves sink into it—their few boxes of belongings were stacked along the wall, the papers had been signed, and now they could let themselves breathe.

Ian cradled the back of Mickey’s head in his hands, giving him a quick peck just above his eyebrow. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Mickey breathed out a low chuckle. “Yeah, man, me too.”

Ian rustled, turning onto his side on the wobbly mattress to face Mickey fully. “‘Man?’ You’re my fucking husband. I think we can do better than that.”

Mickey smirked, leaning in close to hover over him. “Whatever you say, husband.”

[gallavictorious]

I’m wondering if Ian was thinking that Mickey had forgotten or was not that into celebrating the anniversary, because he thought that Mickey was still mad about the West Side move? Do you have any thoughts on what Ian might have been thinking when he was dropping his hints throughout the day and Mickey was brushing them off? (Especially the scene right before they went into the party)

Oooh, fun! Thanks a lot for this–I've been thinking about that scene on the sidewalk quite a bit so I'm very grateful for the chance to prattle on about it!

@dreamylyfe-x has written about how Ian was probably trying to suss out how Mickey wanted to play this–are they a couple who do anniversaries or are they not–and I think that's quite likely what's going on, and why Ian hasn't planned his own thing or prepared a gift or whatever. I can see him, in the weeks leading up to the big day, fishing a little, trying to see if Mickey will bite, looking for a hint about what would be appropriate for them to do to celebrate their first year as husbands. Only, no hints arrive; Mickey never bites; Mickey pretends to not notice Ian's increasingly transparent attempts at fishing.

One might reasonably wonder why Ian doesn't just ask what they're doing for their anniversary if that's something he's been thinking about. So, you wanna do something for our anniverssary? Would have been dead easy, right?

Thing is, I don't think Ian's actually bothered about what they'd end up doing; that isn't the point. I think that Ian wants their anniversary to mean something to Mickey. It's fine if Mickey doesn't want to do anything special, but Ian wants Mickey to remember and acknowledge that this is a special day for them, and he wants Mickey to do so of his own volition. He doesn't want to have to push it, he doesn't want Mickey to go along with whatever just because he wants to make Ian happy, he wants Mickey to care because it-–their commitment, their marriage, their wedding day–means something to him too. Ian's been pretty good at reassuring Mickey this season (and the last) but sometimes I think Ian might need a little reassurance, too? Just... for Mickey to volunteer that he knows their big day is coming up.

(By the by, your ask really made me realize that Mickey's out there secretly arranging this party while being actively upset over having to move and feeling all sorts of lost and unhappy and maybe throwing a few chairs. Once he got back from stealing the neighbors laundry, did he send Lip a text to check on the snack situation? Did he stop to remind Debbie to bring the decorations before leaving the Gallagher house in the morning after the incident with the annoyingly bright moon? Did he take a call from the accordion player to confirm that yes, At Last, that's what I fucking said, who cares if it's hard, what the fuck am I even paying you for before pulling up some cinnamon challenge videos on his phone? Like, that must have been so weird for Mickey, putting this whole thing together even as he questions whether Ian thinks he needs to change to fit in with Ian's visions of the good life.)

But yeah, Ian doesn't ask and maybe he actually loses track of the whole thing a little bit, what with the sudden move to the West Side and the falling out over that. Maybe he's quite genuine when wondering if it's the 20th or 21st, or maybe it's just the first of several attempts that day to jog Mickey's memory; either way Mickey shows no signs of knowing it's anything other than a regular maybe Thursday (it's a Wednesday) and... that probably hurts Ian's feeling a bit. It's fine if Mickey doesn't want to celebrate, but how can he–who broke up with Ian over him hesitating about getting married and who then spent so much time planning the goddamned wedding–not know that it's their fucking wedding day? It doesn't make any sense, does it? So... that must means he doesn't care, right? Or is he still pissed... ? To actually answer your question about what Ian's thinking, I'd argue that Ian quite simply isn't sure and he doesn't want to ask and that's why he keeps on dropping these hints, getting more and more annoyed with Mickey's seeming failure to connect the dots or make any sort of comment on it. (@damngcoffee has pondered if this might have influenced his initial insistence they take the crib in spite of Mickey saying no, and with that in mind I do wonder if it might not have pushed him to go off on the Trump supporter?)

In the end, Ian gives up on Mickey volunteering anything. He needs to know. “Do you seriously knot know what today is?” he asks, and I think it's interesting to note that once they've established that no, Mickey (a liar) doesn't know, Ian softens. “One year ago today,” he says, with that smile, a little shy but a little hopeful too. Soft, in love, happy to mark this occasion with Mickey. It's not great that Mickey didn't remember, but at least that means he didn't ignore it because he doesn't care, so... sure, they'll take it from here.

Except Mickey gives every impression of still not giving a damn and the ways I feel bad for Ian here are... I mean, I know it'll be all right in just a moment, but argh. My heart. (Surprise parties can be a bit of double-edged sword, really, if the surprise hinges on convincing the subject of celebration that they've been forgotten. Consider them carefully.) Also worthy of note is how Ian, even though he's justifiably hurt and disappointed and upset, doesn't start an argument or take off. He follows Mickey into the bar instead–and is of course immediately shocked and awed to the point of barely being able to speak.

As I've noted in the tags of a GIF-set of this scene, I believe that mixed with Ian's overwhelming astonishment and love for Mickey there's a slight and initial feeling along the lines of you asshole you set me up you just stood outside and pretended like you didn't care you're a bastard. Just, the way he looks at Mickey, shakes his head slightly, right before the I love this man? It's not unresonable for him to feel, fleetingly, that he's been made a fool of, if just a little and with the best of intentions? Ian's proud, y'all! (And probably also not at all comfortable being expected to make a speech–and one that somehow lives up to Mickey's gesture–while still reeling from the sudden turn the evening took.) But that feeling is really very fleeting, because not only did Mickey not forget, he went out of his way to make this day really special for them both. Planned the whole thing and even brought in family and friends, all for Ian. Once he recovers from the shock, Ian feels nothing but such intense joy and love and gratitude, and whatever disappointment he experienced earlier fades entirely in the face of that. ❤️

[calpalirwin]

True Crime

Loosely based on/inspired by True Crime by Taylor Acorn

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

__

The stars were bright as they stared up at the sky, their eyes blurry. He pressed the last sip of the bottle to her lips and pulled the blanket tighter around them. “Promise me something,” she whispered, her words slow and slurred.

“Anything,” he nodded, lighting a cigarette. 

“Promise me you’ll love me forever.”

“Only if you promise the same.”

She cupped his face in her hands, looking deep into his blue eyes. “Promise.”

“Promise,” he smiled at her before bringing her in for a kiss that tasted like cheap booze, smelled like cheaper cigarettes, and felt like young love that would last lifetimes.

~~~

Y/N woke with a start, the dream replaced with the blaring of the alarm next to her bed. With a groan, she shut off the alarm, wondering if there would ever come a night where she didn’t dream of Lip Gallagher. But after seven months, she wasn’t holding much hope, and the wondering progressed to thoughts of how to come to terms with the fact that this was her life now.

Y/N had no one to blame but herself. Ian had warned her that his brother, while mostly filled with good intentions, was a ticking time bomb of self-destruction, much like all the other Gallaghers. But his charm, sharp wit, and those piercing blue eyes had made it hard for Y/N to resist the older boy. And the almost year they spent together had left her thinking that maybe Ian had been wrong. Maybe she could be the one good thing in Lip’s life that didn’t explode.

But the explosion had happened. And in the fallout, she had lost not only Lip, but herself as well.

As Y/N left her house, out of habit she started to head south. But like every day for the past seven months, she paused thinking if she really wanted to go that way. Any other day she would have turned to go the other way, not risking being in his part of town, not risking going by the places they used to frequent together. But today, she didn’t change her path. The Southside was big enough, and before the fallout she remembered Ian had mentioned his new job at Fiona’s diner. And just because her and Lip weren’t a thing anymore, didn’t mean she had to let go of Ian too. And today, missing her best friend outweighed the risks she’d been avoiding.

She sucked in her breath as she passed by the open field that had been one of her and Lip’s preferred spot to escape to when things got crazy at his house, which was often. She also picked up her pace, but it didn’t matter. The memory replayed anyway.

~~~

“If you could live anywhere, where would you go?” she asked.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Literally anywhere that’s not here. Why? You wanna run away with me? Train should be coming by soon. We could just hop on, and see where we end up.”

Y/N laughed. “We can’t actually leave, Lip. It’s hypothetical.”

“Well why does it have to be hypothetical? Nobody fuckin’ needs me here. I’m smart, you’re hot. We’d find a way to get by.”

Y/N laughed louder, pushing into his shoulder. “Real funny, Lip.”

“I’m serious. I used to think that maybe I was just fuckin’ useless, but I’m starting to think it’s just this city.”

“It is the city, because you are anything but useless.”

Lip scoffed again. “Nah. All I am here nowadays is another mouth to feed. Another body taking up space. I stopped being useful the minute I turned eighteen, and Frank couldn’t cash a check on my existence anymore. But away from here? Fuck, I could be anybody. A somebody.”

His tone was flat, a simplistic statement of facts. But his eyes betrayed the hurt he still associated with who he thought he was, and the bitter disappointment that he’d never be more than what he was now. “Oh, Lip,” she said softly, cupping his face in one of her palms. “You’re so much more than who they think you are.”

For a brief moment, he leaned into her touch, allowing himself to trust in someone other than himself. “You might be the only one who believes in me.”

“That’s what happens when you love someone, Lip.”

“Again, you might be the only one who does. And trust me, I’m not saying this shit to gain sympathy, or to bring down the mood, or whatever.” His shoulders shrugged, “It’s just the reality of the situation.”

“Well, I love you Philip Gallagher. And if you wanna run away, just say the word, and I will happily follow.”

~~~

The bell on the door jingled as Y/N pushed her way inside Patsy’s Pies. A waitress in a white top tucked into black jeans and an apron tied around her waist told her to have a seat wherever, so Y/N slid into one of the booths along the window. As she glanced around the place, she spotted a busboy cleaning up a nearby table, with bright red hair. “Ian!” she called out, her voice bright.

The busboy turned to the sound, a wide grin breaking out across his face as he recognized her. “Give me two minutes!” he told her before hurriedly going back to his task.

Not even a full two minutes later, Ian was sliding in across from her. “Oh, my God, Y/N! How have you been? I haven’t seen you s- Oh… Right…”

She smiled softly, as she reached across the table to pat her friend’s hand. “I’m okay, Ian. Still hurts, but not as bad as it did. And I’m not here to see him. I came here to see you. See how you’re doing.”

“Oh, I’m good. You know… considering.”

“That’s great, Ian. And it looks like you got a nice routine here. Working out okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not the greatest job in the world. Like I know I have it because it’s how Fiona can keep an eye on me. But better than nothing, I guess. How are things with you?”

“As good as they can be, I guess. Taking some classes at the community college. Nothing extremely brag worthy or anything.”

“So same shit, different day?”

She laughed, “Exactly.” She was about to work up the courage to ask how the rest of the Gallagher clan was doing when the bell on the door jangled, and both their heads turned to the sound.

“Oh, fuck…” Ian groaned at the same time Lip mouthed the words himself.

Y/N steeled herself as Lip walked there way, one of his hands coming to rest on the tabletop. “Y/N. Good to see ya. You look good,” Lip greeted quickly before turning his attention to Ian. “I’m gonna grab Liam, check in with Fi, then we can head out.”

“I’ll do it!” Ian volunteered and shot out of the booth before either Lip or Y/N could protest.

“I-” Lip sighed, rubbing at his face. “Okay…” He sighed again before taking a seat on the edge of the bench seat. “So…” he said, fingers drumming on the wood.

“Don’t,” she cut him off. “We don’t have to do this,” she went on, waving a finger between the two of them. “Make pleasant small talk, or whatever. We can just sit here until Ian comes back, and then you guys can go your way, and I’ll go mine, and it’ll be just like it’s supposed to.”

“Alright, fuck me then…” his defensive snark came out.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” she snapped back.

Lip rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Y/N. God forbid I try to be nice to you.”

“See? That’s exactly what I told you not to do. You don’t get to do what you did, and then play the victim, Lip.”

“Do what?! Say hi?!”

“Do anything, Lip! Seven fuckin’ months of radio silence, and the first thing you decide to say to me is ‘hey, you look good’? What fuckin’ shit is that?!”

“So I was just supposed to ignore you?!”

“It was working so far, wasn’t it?! Until you went and ruined it by talking!”

“I ruined it?! You came here- where my family works- but I ruined it?!”

“Yes! Because I was just fine until you came along!”

“Yeah, well so was I!”

“I’m gonna see you at home, Lip…” Ian’s voice piped up, a backpack slung over his shoulder, one of his hands holding Liam’s. “Y/N, it was great to see you. Catch up soon?”

Y/N flashed a smile at the two Gallagher brothers, her demeanor shifting completely. “Of course, Ian. My number’s still the same. Hey, Liam!”

“What do you mean, you’ll see me at home? I’m coming with you,” Lip cut in.

“No,” Ian shook his head. “Liam and I are going home. You two are gonna finish whatever… this is.”

“It is finished,” they both told him.

Ian snorted. “Yeah right… Y/N, if Lip hadn’t walked in when he did, were you going to ask me about him?”

“Yes…” she mumbled.

“And Lip, were you gonna ask me about Y/N the second we left?”

“Yeah, probably…”

“So just talk to each other now, and leave me out of it.”

“I- Fiona would kill me if you left with Liam, and I didn’t go with you, you know that.”

Ian shrugged. “Guess there’s only one thing to do then.”

Lip gave a shake of his head, muttering some curses under his breath. “Fine. C’mon then,” he finally, getting up from the table and motioning for Y/N to follow them.

“Me?” she asked in disbelief. “You’re joking…”

“Really wish I was. But Ian’s right. We should probably finish whatever this is, rather than ignoring it.”

“How mature of you,” she sarcastically crooned at him as she got up. “Let’s go then.”

~~~

The happy chatter around the dinner table in the Gallagher house warmed Y/N. That had been her favorite part about being in their lives. For as chaotic and dysfunctional as they were, the six siblings were always ride or die for each other.

“So,” Lip prompted, once the chatter had died down, and the Gallaghers had disbanded to various parts of the house.

“So?” Y/N asked.

Lip jerked his head in the direction of the back porch. “C’mon, we can talk outside.”

With a huff, she followed him outside, both of them taking a seat on the steps.

“So,” he started again.

“Why?” she demanded, cutting straight to the chase. “Why?” she repeated again, her lip trembling.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s the best you got? You left me there waiting for you, and the best you got is ‘I don’t know’?”

“Don’t be so dramatic… I didn’t leave you there waiting.”

“Oh!” she scoffed, “Right. My bad. You showed up two hours late, said you couldn’t do this, and then left me.”

“Were you really naive enough to think I could leave with you? That I could ever get out of that?” he flung a hand in the direction of the house.

“No,” she said flatly. “No. I was naive enough to think I could trust you to begin with. Ian warned me about you right from the beginning.”

“Yeah, well you should’ve listened. But you were never good at doing what you were told to do now were you? Always doing the opposite just to prove you could.”

“Classic Lip, putting the blame on others for his own screw ups.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” he mockingly pouted. “Did I ruin your fairytale by being a fuck-up?”

She snarled as she gave him a hard shove with enough force to make him have to stick out his hand to catch himself. “My life was just fine before you came along, and fucked everything up!”

“Well I guess I did you a favor by leaving then, huh?!”

“A favor?! You think you did me a favor by making me fall in love with you, letting me believe we could be something, and then leaving?!”

“You think I left for my own health?! I was in love with you, too!”

“If you loved me, then why did you leave?!”

“Because I’m a fuckin’ fuck-up! It’s what I do! I ruin good things because I don’t believe I deserve them!”

“So your solution was to break your promise to me?! You didn’t have to run away with me, Lip! In case you didn’t notice, I didn’t leave that night either! We could have just kept being us!”

The words shocked the fight out of him. “You didn’t leave?”

Y/N shook her head, the fight leaving her too. “No. I only wanted to leave because you wanted to.”

“That’s fuckin’ stupid. You know that right? Only doing something because of me? It’s stupid to pin your life on anyone, especially when that person is me.”

“I didn’t pin my life on you because I’m dependent on you, Lip. I wasn’t kidding when I said my life was fine before you. It was. My life just happened to be better with you in it. I was happiest with you. And I was stupid enough to believe you when said you felt the same.”

“You know you’re the only one I ever meant that shit to?”

“If you meant it, then you shouldn’t have broken your promise. You should have stayed.”

“Yeah, maybe I should’ve. Or maybe we did everything right, and we still end up here.”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

“Guess so. And hey, I’m sorry alright?”

“I don’t want your apology, Lip. I want you to be the person I thought you were.”

“Yeah, me too. But I am sorry. I guess part of me thought I was protecting you by walking away before I could let you down. Protecting myself by leaving before you could leave me. But it didn’t work. I just made a bigger mess of my life. And hurt you in the crossfire.”

“Did Lip Gallagher just admit to his own screw ups?” she teased lightly.

“Ha-ha,” he laughed humorlessly. “Believe it or not, sometimes I’m not a complete ass.”

“Only sometimes,” she continued to tease.

This time he chuckled a little. “Well, as much as I want to, I can’t go back and fix what I did. And I can tell you I’m sorry all night, but it doesn’t mean you’ll forgive me. And I can’t blame you if you don’t. I mean, it's not like I forgave myself, either. But, kinda glad for running into you, and getting to talk this out. I’ve uh… missed you being around.”

She smiled softly. “Yeah, it was nice. I’ve uh… missed being around you, too.”

“So… where do we go from here? Is this where I swear that I’ve changed, and I’ll do better if you give me a second chance?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know. Do I want to be with you again? Yes. But I don’t think it’s as simple as that. What if I haven’t changed? What if my life flies off the rails again- which it will- and I push you away again? I can’t guarantee that I won’t hurt you again. That my instinct won’t be to run the minute things get hard.”

“I guess we gotta decide if that’s a risk worth taking.”

“Is it? Am I the risk worth taking again?”

“Oh, Lip…” Y/N said softly, resting her hand against his face the way she used to. Her thumb brushed along his cheekbone as he leaned into the touch, his eyes watching her carefully. “You’re always gonna be my risk worth taking.”

__

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[tear-soaked-cheeksdonteverlast]

82 and 83 for the ask game?

Thank you so much for the ask, anon!

82 Pet(s)/Animals and 83 Mutual 'I Love You's

Mickey never dared to dream of having a pet when he lived at home. When he moved out he assumed he would handle being alone well. He'd always been a bit of a loner if his brothers or Mandy weren't around. He was so wrong.

His small apartment just feels too big, too empty, too silent. He searches the internet for something that might help. He ends up on the website of the local shelter.

It takes him a few months to convince himself to go, instead of 'getting used to it'. He goes with the idea of getting one of those big tough dogs.

When he gets there a hot young redhead at the front desk welcomes him. He introduces himself as Ian and asks why Mickey is there. He explains the procedures for adopting certain animals, before asking Mickey if he wants to take a look at the animals. Mickey only picks up a tenth of what Ian says, just staring at his lips and emerald green eyes most of the time.

Ian guides Mickey through the different rooms filled with animals.

First the dogs. There are multiple 'tough' dogs, but none of them make Mickey feel like there is a connection, a word he heard Ian go on and on about. Ian explains a bit about each dog, but in the end, there's no dog that Mickey feels certain about taking home.

The cats aren't much better. Mickey never considered himself a cat-person. Despite some cats rubbing up to him, making him feel both weird and warm at the same time, he has a hard time committing to one of them. Even a couple of adorable black kittens are not able to convince Mickey to tell Ian to stop the tour... Maybe that wasn't entirely their fault either. Mickey might just want to spend more time with the hot shelter volunteer.

Finally Ian brings Mickey outside to a small side building with a small grass patch attached. Ian tells him this is where they keep bunnies, pygmy goats, and other exotic pets. Before they go inside, Ian shows Mickey a few bunny pens. Mickey huffs, he really doesn't want a harmless fluffball, but he lets Ian talk. Most pens are full, but one seems empty. Seems, because Ian tells him there are two bunnies in there who've been in the shelter for over a year now, their entire life, because people don't want bunnies that don't come to them. He tells him the story of one of them being found just before it got eaten by a cat, causing it to miss most of one ear.

Ian opens the hatch of the shelter to have a view of the inside. The moment Mickey lays eyes on the scared scarred bunnies, he's sold. The two small animals somehow make him think of himself, scarred and scared but deserving of a better life. He bends down to their height and murmurs "I'll love you. I promise"

"I think I might love you too."

Mickey's head whips around to stare at the redhead, whose cheeks are glowing red as his hair.

"What?" Did this stranger just tell him that he loved him?

Ian scratches the back of his head. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"Yeah, doofus, you did." Mickey chuckles, getting over the awkwardness. Fuck it, he might as well take a leap when the universe presents something on a silver plate like this. "Wanna take me out on a date before deciding you love me, Red?"

"I'd love to." Ian laughs, his stress visibly melting by the second. "How about Saturday evening? Dinner and a beer afterwards?"

"I can do Saturday. Now, what do I need to do to take these cuties home?"

"Wait till my shift is over and promise me a beer?" Ian winked, smooth motherfucker. "I might even help you carry them."

That evening Mickey says "I love you" again, this time not to the set of fluffy scared rabbits hiding in their shelter, but to the redhead sucking a hickey on his neck, moaning it softly. Ian whispers it back, smiling against Mickey's bruised skin.

Mickey never felt lonely again after that night, all thanks to two small fluff balls as damaged as he is, a misunderstanding, and a cheeky redhead with a heart of gold.

Send me two numbers and help me procrastinate some more

[suchagallabitch]

Hi Elle!! Here's to your writing renaissance 🤗 how about #14?

HI CHERRY! here's to me writing again lmao 🫶

it's not unbroken anymore, how do i get it back the way it was before?

Mickey helps Carl pick up the mess he made. He didn't expect the question he was being asked. (Set in season 4).

“Fucking Frank man” Ian dramatically crashed into his bed, head a mere few centimetres away from hitting his head on the wall instead of his intended pillow.

Mickey just watched him from beside the bed a cocked eyebrow settled in amusement. They had just gotten back from the hospital where Frank’s ‘wedding’ miraculously became Frank’s second chance at life. None of the family, besides Sheila, Sammy and her weird-ass kid, stayed for more than an hour past him getting rushed into the surgery. Sheila had assured everyone she would text everyone when he was out. They all gave a half-hearted ‘sure’ before they went on their way. Fiona and Lip both said they would be back home when they could be which meant Ian and Mickey had the place to themselves, other than the little kids but they were self-efficient enough to not bother them for the rest of the night.  

Mickey pushed close the bedroom door as Ian just gave a sigh. “Fucker somehow managed to get a liver now? Swear that fucking guy is never gonna die, he’s like a cockroach. Could probably cut off his head and he’d still be begging us for money”

“Uh-huh,” Mickey mused, back pressed against the door as he watched Ian shift around enough to get comfortable. “He’s also still married to Monica by the way-” Ian finally stopped squirming, kicking off his shoes. Once he managed that he squeezed shut his eyes. “But hey if Sheila wants to take him off our hands, by all means, I support the unholy fucking matrimony”

Mickey just stayed quiet, partly because he was unsure about what to say about the whole situation, but mostly because he was more interested in the way Ian’s shirt had seemed to get riled up in his movement leaving his stomach in perfect view.

Ian’s eyes shot open once he realised he wasn’t getting a conversation out of the man. He smiled once he saw what seemed to be distracting Mickey. “C’mere” was all Ian managed, sitting up.

Mickey gave his own satisfied smile that his shameless staring seemed to be working out in his favour. He didn’t waste a second before crawling into the bed with him, appreciating Ian making the space for his body as Ian pulled his face into his embrace, a feverish kiss soon followed.

They had managed to pull off both of their shirts, discarding them somewhere off in the unmade bed. Ian was in the middle of wrangling his pants down his ankles, already dealt with Mickey’s, when a loud crash sounded from downstairs.

They both paused, Ian’s hand resting on Mickey’s shoulder to keep him balanced as he hovered over the edge of the bed. It was quiet for half a second before an even louder crash followed.

“I’m not dealing with it!” Debbie’s voice immediately called out, followed by the sound of her door slamming shut.

“Fucking Christ” Ian just sighed, aimlessly palming his sheets to find his shirt again. Mickey could tell Ian was at his wit's end, so he pushed Ian’s chest down, trying to keep him from getting back up. “I got it”

Mickey wasn't so sure why he just volunteered himself to go look. After the day he had the last thing he needed was to be dealing with more of the Gallagher's dumb shit. Still, he found himself doubling down on the offer, even dismissing Ian’s protests.

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