I'm just a freak, riddled with flaws & self-doubt. You'll find a lot of Gallavich here. I'm technically an adult-- although it's against my wishes. (she/her)
psst - itâs kinktober. what are Ian and Mickeyâs fave kinks? reply and pass it on
Oh that's a great question, anon.
đľ let's talk about sex, baby, let's talk about Mick and E
Salt-n-pepa, anyone? No? Just me?
Buckle up because I have a lot to say about this.
Mickey's favorite is to be pushed around and held down. Ian is strong, and Mickey loves it when he shows that off. Mick knows how to push at Ian just right to get himself shoved into or onto the nearest flat surface or lifted up and carried to wherever Ian wants him to be. He doesn't like to hand over all the control, but he loves it when Ian manhandles him. Once, Ian lifts him up, wraps Mickey's thighs around his waist, and pounds into him while they're standing in the middle of the room. He can't do it for long - he's strong, but Mickey isn't exactly light, so he does end up walking them back against a wall - but that handful of thrusts were some of the hottest moments Mickey has ever experienced.
Ian's favorite is come play/sharing. Mickey accuses him of being an animal with the way he "marks his territory" (Mick's words, not Ian's) but Ian doesn't really care. He loves barebacking and watching as his cum leaks out of Mickey, or finishing on his slstomach or back and rubbing it into his skin. He knows it's filthy, but Mickey let's him so he doesn't think twice about it anymore. One time, after blowing Mickey, he tries pushing some of Mick's own semen back into his mouth, and something about watching Mickey completely blissed out and just accepting whatever Ian gave him, swallowing without a second thought has Ian humping the bed and coming before Mickey even gets a hand on him. (They learn that it goes both ways, too; on the rare occasions that Ian bottoms, what really pushes him to orgasm is the feeling of Mickey coming in him)
Mickey's favorite kink of Ian's is voyeurism. He thought Ian would prefer being the one to put on a show, to spread himself out and get himself off for Mickey, but it's actually the other way around. Ian will sometimes walk in on Mickey masturbating, and instead of complaining or teasing or joining, he'll sit back and let Mickey feel himself up, make himself come. Every time this happens, Mickey slows down and draws it out and exaggerates every sound and loves knowing how much Ian is getting off on watching.
Ian's favorite of Mick's is praise. His husband doesn't like to admit to it, but Ian knows he's got a praise kink a mile wide. It doesn't matter if they are having soft, sleepy sex in the early hours of the morning or if Ian is absolutely railing him in the bar bathroom because they just had to have each other right that minute, Mickey loves hearing Ian tell him how good he feels, how hot he is, how amazing he makes Ian feel. It always succeeds in turning Mickey into a puddle of babbling, blushing, sex-drunk goo.
i understand why people like the queue and i do respect you guys for using it but that is just not how i roll. if i think these 37 posts are funny youâre seeing them right fucking now
So! Iâve kinda been hiding, procrastinating, binge watching a tv show that has 12 episode a season and Iâm on season 8 out of 10, and had a really bad urge to use acrylic paints again. And with all of that combined, have an Ian Gallagher because I canât get this scene out my head.
(And I know Iâve had a few WIPâs and stuff I need to finish but the cabin fever has been hitting differently yo, and I need to get this out my system before I can return to normal productivity)
little 3x7 for this weeks @galladrabbles from @ardent-fox. because ian being all sad in his bed wasn't enough. we need to see it on the flip side too. đ
-----------
Front door slams. Terry hollers. Mickeyâs fading bruises ache. Double checks the bedroom door. Locked. Good.
But he canât help it. The fuckinâ fear. Hates it.
He curls further around his pillow. Still smells like him. Like that night. Best one of Mickeyâs life. Before everything went to shit.
He wishes it was him. Wishes he was here. Whispers the words he couldnâtâcan neverâsay. âIâm sorry.â âIâm fucked up.â âCan you ever forgive me?â
Except he knows the answer. Never. Mickey doesnât deserve forgiveness. So he clings tighter. Clutches the cherished photo. Holds tight to the shreds he has left.
hi pals! i'm writing this au 100 words at a time per the weekly prompts from @galladrabbles , but i wanted to have it all in one place for a smoother read! prompted words are in RED & there's a âď¸ or đ to note where each installment ends. i'll be pinning this post & updating as we go! xx
the latest installment is #36: UNIVERSE for the week of december 5, 2022
- - - -
âHey man, one sec, Iâll be right up,â says the dark-haired, tattooed man holding a broom in the belly of the shop.
Ian runs a hand through his overgrown curls and thinks heâs far too hot to be sweeping up hair clippings.
What? Heâs depressed, not dead.
ââAight, here for a cut, Red?â
âIs Tami here? She said to come by.â
âJust missed her. Somethinâ about a babysitter.â
âShit.â
The man grins. âI got time though, if you wantâŚâ
Ian inhales, embarrassed to be looking so unkempt in front of this total stranger, but says:
âSure, why not.â
âď¸
The man beckons Ian to a station in the back, spinning a black and chrome chair around for him to take a seat in.
Ianâs joints ache as he sits, stiff from lack of use, but heâs quickly distracted by the sight of thick, leather straps crossing broad shoulders.
An apron never looked so good.
âIâm Mickey,â the man says, pointing to a certificate on the wall.
It reads:Â Mickey Milkovich, Master Barber.
Their eyes meet in the mirror.
âIan.â
âWhatâre we doing here today, Ian?â
Inked fingers card through red locks and Ianâs eyes flutter closed at the contact.
âď¸
Tendrils of something sweet, and a little electric, shoot down his arms and into his fingertips, his every nerve ending singing from the haptic sensation.
It feelsâIan feels.
His eyes prickle, welling with memory, relief, and a hint of melancholy, the latter enough to bring him back to himself.Â
To the gentle tugs of Mickeyâs deft digits working through his tangles.Â
Catch and release. Resolve and repeat.
Mickey clears his throat, softly, and Ian opens his eyes.Â
A blush creeps up his neck as he watches the pink of Mickeyâs tongue pass over the place where his lips meet.
âď¸
âUh, sorry, Iââ Ian stutters, certain that Mickeyâs regretting his decision to offer his services. He takes a breath, recovers. âJust a shape up, I guess. Tami never does anything fancy.â
Tami.Â
Fuck.Â
This was Tamiâs coworker he was losing it in front of. Tami, his sister-in-law, the mother of Lipâs son.
âThatâs a shame,â Mickey says, not missing a beat. âYouâve got great hair, man.â
If Ianâs flush had dissipated, it was back now with a vengeance.
Sorry Tami.
âHave at it.â
Dark eyebrows lift. âTami wonât mind?â
âNah.â
A million things dance across Mickeyâs gorgeous face.
âď¸
âGotta at least take some off the sides,â Mickey muses. His hands frame Ianâs face and push rotund curls flat. The pressure is dizzying. âLookinâ like a fuckinâ tomato, Red.â
Ian winces, his cheeks completing the unfortunate picture.
He likes tomatoes as much as the next guyâmore if heâs honestâbut despite the levity in Mickeyâs voice, he doesnât think being compared to one is exactly a come-on.
Still, he canât deny the hunger in how Mickeyâs scouring his face. Like heâs memorizing this version of Ian, while envisioning a future one.
âYou like it long on top?â
âď¸
âTop? Yeah.â
Itâs innocent in intent, but Ianâs in his body in a way he hasnât been in weeks. Everythingâs excitable. His voice a bit raw.
Through the looking glass, blue lands on green.Â
Mickey pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.
âLetâs get you washed up.â
To survive the shampoo, Ian recounts the serial numbers of his ROTC guns.
Back in the chair, heâs desperate for distraction.
He spots a photo on the wallâclearly from someoneâs birthday. Mickeyâs holding a beer, his face cracked open in a wide smile.Â
Beautiful.Â
A charming juxtaposition from his current focused frown.
âď¸
Below the picture is a framed page from a magazine. Glossy, with an image of Mickey cutting the hair of a little boy, maybe 7 or 8.
And a headlineâFree Cuts for Foster Kids by Homegrown Hero.
Ianâs eyes widen.
âHate that fuckinâ thing,â Mickey gripes quickly, thumbing at his nose, silver scissors hanging loosely from his fingers. âThe stupid article or whatever, not the kids. Sister made me hang it up.â
Ian opens his mouth to speak, but then blades are blurring with tattooed threats, as Mickey cards a comb through wet, red locks and gets to work.
âď¸
Ian sits mesmerizedâno, hypnotizedâby Mickey's swift, precise movements. Skills sharpened with time and practice.
Everything about him is alluring, from the satisfied glint in his eyes as he wields a straight razor with ease, to the way he snarls at a stray hair that has escaped its enclosureâa baby pink clip that reminds Ian of afternoons playing dress up with Franny and Fred.
Suddenly, a flash:
Mickey, bouncing a baby on his knee, grinning in spite of himself.
Ian, handing him a beer before scooping up their kid and raising them into the air, giggles escaping them all.
Their kid.
âď¸
Christ, he needs to get a fucking grip.Â
Still, audacious as it was, it was a future.Â
It's been a while since Ian's thought about a future.Â
"'Ey, I'm gonna spin you around, ok?" Mickey says, landing a timid hand on Ian's shoulder.
Itâs electric.
Then, Mickeyâs crouching in front of him, smelling like smoke and mint and something a little sweet.
He reaches for two pieces of hair, measuring them against each other, but also looking at Ian with such intensity that he canât help but wonder if this is the moment people talk aboutâwhen the stars align.
âď¸
âLook down for me,â Mickey instructs, and Ian drops his head down towards the floor.
Towards Mickeyâs thighsâthick and straining below ink-black denim.
He hears Mickey chuckle softly, and then thereâs a facile finger underneath his chin, lifting until their gaze reconnects.
âEyes only.â
Mickeyâs eyes flick to his mouth and Ian thinks he might die right here in the barber shop.
Cause of death: Overwhelming desire to drop to his knees and peel those jeans clean off.
Mickey drags his finger through red stubble.
âI can clean up this scruff, too. If you want.â
Ian nods, âPlease.â
âď¸
The corner of Mickeyâs mouth lifts, pleased, but smug, like Ianâs making a huge mistake.Â
For despite his willingness, nothing could have prepared him for the sensory experience that is being shaved by Mickey Milkovich, Master Barber.
Beyond the glint of the razor, captured in blue like a fly in amber, or the warm puffs of breath that land on his lips, nose and cheeks, Ian knows heâll be able to conjure the spellbinding symphony of metal scraping skin for the rest of his natural born days.
And the gentleness, precision, and care Mickey offers?
Fuck, like shears through silk.
âď¸
A warm towel presses against Ianâs freshly shorn jaw, meticulously wiping away what remains of the shaving cream.
Deeming him clean, Mickey tosses the towel aside, wiping his hands on his apronâwhite streaks across black fabricâand before Ian can wrench his mind from the fucking gutter, Mickey's bending down in front of him again.
Crystalline eyes sear straight through to his soul.
âBetter,â he says. âNow that that sorry excuse for a beard is gone.â
Ian laughs, a pithy little thing. âWhat? I canât pull one off?â
Mickeyâs tongue swipes at his bottom lip. âNot what I said.âÂ
âď¸
The last few moments replay in Ianâs rebounding brain, and then heâs twirling back towards the mirror.Â
âAlright, man. All set.âÂ
And there he is.Â
His cheeks are a bit sallow, with a touch of irritation from thorough attention after weeks of neglect.Â
But itâs him.Â
Ian.Â
His eyes drift up.Â
Tight, clean undercut. Red locks textured, but tamed.Â
Looks good.Â
Hot.Â
Tears sting as he takes himself inâthe whole picture.Â
âLeft that gray hair in the back. For character,â Mickey says behind him.Â
Ian stares.Â
âKidding, just thought you could useâŚâ His weight shifts. âYou like it ok?â
âď¸
Ian realizes he was trying to lighten the moodâIanâs mood.Â
Like somehow after only a haircutâs length of time together, Mickey can read him like a fucking book.
Heâs quiet a beat too long, not fully processing the question asked, and then Mickeyâs moving again, grabbing the corner of the cape with a yank, the snaps separating with sharp pops that zing down Ianâs spine.
His t-shirt is somehow less grungy thanks to the crisp cut.
Heâs like the winter sun. Not as strong, but still shining.
âLooks fucking great, Mick,â Ian breathes almost compulsively.
Mickeyâs lips twitch.
âď¸
They make their way to the front of the shop.
Full circle, and yet completely different than before.
Ian feels buzzed. Tipsy. Not too far gone, but on his way to impaired. Which wouldnât be a problem save for the incredibly attractive barber currently running his credit card.
He pulls a couple of crumpled bills from his wallet and hands them to Mickey.
âSâok, man. Keep your cash.â
Ian frowns. âPretty sure itâs standard to tip for a job well done.â
Mickey looks like he wants to say somethingâflip the scriptâbut ultimately takes the money.
âThanks,â he mumbles.
âď¸
âThank you,â Ian presses, aware of their dwindling time together. âFeels like me. So, thanks.â
Mickey glances down, and Ian wants to climb inside his head and lay in the steady stream of his every thought.
Finally, âGuess Tami canât be too mad, then.â
Ian winces. âRight. Tami.â
âJust figuredââ
âIâll call. Let her know.â
âAlright.â
The silence is deafening.
âWell. Thanks again, Mickey.â
A flash of terror, but all he says is, âSure thing, Red.â
Ian tries to not feel too disappointed as he plucks Mickeyâs business card from the counter, and with a small wave, leaves the shop.
âď¸
END OF SCENE ONE
âď¸
God fucking dammit.Â
Mickey watches Ian walk away from the shop, the click of the closing door leaving him pained and breathless.
That settles it, he guessesâheâs a real pussy.
If he werenât, he wouldâve parlayed things into at least a beer.
Because yeah, Mickeyâs hands trembled with every snip of his scissors, and sure, his face flushed as he lathered up red curls and watched the effects of his touch spread lazily across Ianâs freckled face.
But Ian was Tamiâs client. And clearly recovering from some shit.
What, Mickey didnât know, but fuck, he wants to find out.
đ
He stalks back to the computer.
How do you know that a momentâs more important than the rest?Â
Clicks the CLIENTS tab.
How do you tell that thatâs the time youâre supposed to take charge, make a move, fucking run after him?
Types in IanâShit, did he really not even get the guyâs last name?
How come there ainât some kinda dumbass prophecy to help him out that says: On this day, at this time, some smoking redheadâs gonna come into the shop. Heâs not there to see you, but he is there for you. Donât fuck it up.
đ
Mickey hits ENTER.
The progress bar flashes for an eternity, a far cry from the promise of Salon Software at Lightning Speed!
When it loads, Mickeyâs jaw drops.
Zero results.Â
âYou gotta be shitting me.â
He hits refresh. Still nothing.
âWhat kinda piece of shit system is this?â He barks, adding âTamiâ under STYLIST.
No Ians.
He punches the desk.
Knuckles swelling, Mickey sweeps up red locks. Tiny reminders that there is, in fact, an Ian out there in the world. Just has to swallow his pride and ask.
God, that blonde bitch is gonna be so annoying about this.
đ
Sheâs also not on the schedule again for two fucking days.
So Mickey waits. Closes things down and heads out. Has a beer with Mandy and her new boyfriend. Dreams of dizzying green eyes. Works some more. Jumps every time someone opens the damn door.
When Tami finally drags her ass in, heâs waiting at her station.
âKidâs an artist,â he quips, motioning to a displayed drawing of a rainbow, a shitty pot of gold and some wonky four-leaf clovers.
She rolls her eyes, smiling. âWhat do you want, Mickey?â
âMet oneâa your clients,â he shrugs. Hopes itâs casual.
đ
âI heard!â She exclaims, throwing down her bag. âDonât worry about it, you can have him.â
âWhat?â Mickey splutters.
âYouâve already made more money off of him than I ever have,â she barrels on, leaving his head spinning. âPlus, itâs terrifyingâthe fear of fucking up a gay manâs hair.â
Oh.
Bingo.
The revelation swoops through his system. Heat and relief. The dissolution of tension around that particular unknown.Â
Pleasure, too. Hard-won thrill.Â
For Mickeyâs been able to wrestle years of violence, inflicted inside and out, into a somewhat solid stance on self as shelter, and ainât that something?
đ
Once the fucking lust clears, he hears her in full.
âWait, he donât pay you?â he asks, flushing red with wrath.
He takes this shit seriously, their business. Maybe itâs a pride thing, but they work hard for their bread. To build a craft and a client list one could envy.
âI know!â Tami complains. âGreedy ass Gallaghers, just take take take. Gluttonous. Theyâll knock you upââÂ
Mickey knows that Tamiâs throwing him clues, but his comprehensionâs moving at a sloth-like pace, derailed by the latest drop in the bucket:
Gallagher.
Ian Gallagher.
Has a nice ring to it.
đ
ââlike staying poor with your fucked up family is some sort of Southside tradition!â
Tami takes a breath, her eyes wild, and Mickey realizes heâs got no idea what sheâs saying anymore.Â
Honestly, theyâre both a bit confused as to how they got here.
âYou good?â
She runs her hands through her long, blonde hair. âFucking peachy.â
Someone turns on a blow-dryer and Mickey remembers himself.
âSorry, whatâs this got to do with Ian?â
âHuh?â
âGallagher? Your gay client I swiped?â
A devious grin grows across her face and she swats his shoulder, âOh my god, you like him!â
đ
âFuck off. I gave the guy a hair cut!â
âThat all you give him?â Tami smirks.
âJesus Christ, lady, Iâm a fucking professional!â Mickey balks, running a hand over his face, more to hide his blush than anything else.
âSpeaking of, I got a client in ten and a bladder ruined by child-rearing, so what do you want? His number? His address? The time he gets off work?â
Well, shit.Â
In all of his practice runs, Mickey had prepared for Tami to take him for a ride. Never expected her to hand the guy over on a fucking platter.
đ
Maybe thatâs why he rears back and, eyebrows dancing, asks, âHow âbout if he gives it good and hard?â
âUgh,â Tami gags, âThatâs TMI, even for me.âÂ
Mickey shrugs, gets a little lost imagining freckled hips giving way to a long, thick cock.
âLipâs gonna have a field day with this one,â she says, scribbling something on the back of a receipt pulled from her purse.
Mickey shudders at the thoughtâsomething about Tamiâs baby daddy always grinds his gears.
âThe fuckâs that asshole care?â
âOh, you really donât know?â she asks. Off Mickeyâs blank stare, adds, âIanâs his brother.â
đ
His stomach drops like a judge just threw the fucking book at him.
âYou gotta be shitting me!â
Maybe itâs not too late to bail. Forget the whole thing. There are plenty of fish in the sea.
But then he remembers his finger lifting Ianâs chin; the wide open look in his eyes and his breathy little please, and Mickey knows thereâs no turning back now.
No other fish worth catching.
Tami just laughs. Flips her hair like the snotty, but helpful bitch she is, and presses the slip of paper to Mickeyâs chest.
âSee ya at the family function!â
đ
Worse than the idea of sitting across from Lip at dinner is the reality that Mickeyâs got four back-to-back clients, so calling Ian will have to wait.
Itâs cool, heâs cool. Stolen time to figure out what he wants to say.
Hours later, his aching fingers carefully type each precious digit into his phone.
The door opens and Mickey curses under his breath.
Yells, âTake a seat! Be right there,â without looking up.
He takes a deep breath.
Presses send.
Scratches his brow.Â
A phone rings in the waiting area.
No fucking way.
He looks up.
âHey Mickey.â
đ
âYou calling me right now?â Ian asks, grinning and gorgeous.
Mickeyâs too gobsmacked to speak.
âShould I pick up?â
Get it together, Milkovich.
âYeah, just take a walk around the fucking block, why donât ya?â
Ian taps at the screen and the line clicks openâin case there was still any doubt as to who was on the other end.
âWait, Iââ
âNot going anywhere,â Ian promises. âJust, uh, saving your number.â
Shit, who the fuck was this smooth cat? Mickey could absolutely get used to this.
But he also liked him before, all flushed and flustered in Mickeyâs chair.
đ
âHair looks good,â Mickey says, attempting to act like a normal fucking person.
Ian pockets his phone, tugging his t-shirt down over the top of his jeansâvintage, some rock band Mickey also likesâand runs his hand through it.
Mickeyâs fingers twitch with the sense memory of submerging shampoo suds in those same silky strands.
âThanks,â Ian smiles. âGot it cut by this guyâheâs kind of a big deal around here. Maybe youâve seen his write up in the paper?â
Mickey bites his lip. âSounds like a douchebag. Bet heâs even got it hanginâ on the wall.â
đ
Ian shrugs. Says, âI liked him.â
Itâs simple and a little shy and Mickey thinks his heart might just shatter into a million fucking pieces.
Then, as if sensing a moment that needs ruining, Mickeyâs stomach growls. Loudly, like a goddamn traitor.
âYou hungry?â
âYou buying?â
âI could be. I gotta know something first though.â
âWhatâs that?â
âHowâd you get my number?â
Well, fuck. Mickey canât lieâIanâs not even in the systemâand this is clearly a second chance, hand-delivered on a platter. What choice does he have?
He takes a deep breath.Â
âI asked Tami for it.â
đ
Ian looks at Mickey like heâs some handsome ass prince from a kidâs book, and not a creep with a crush who nosed around in his business with the help of his sister-in-law.
âBrave,â he says.
Mickey smirks. âWhatâs brave is going to the same hair spot a couple days after your last cut⌠You got complaints, Red?â
âNot exactly,â Ian admits, his eyes flicking towards the floor.
âWhatchya doing here then?â
Their eyes meet, but this time thereâs no mirror. No barrier, no buffer.
The air between them fizzes, like a freshly cracked soda pop.
âCame to see you.â
đ
Mickey thrums with something akin to satisfaction. Excitement. Butterflies in his stomach, a hopeful burning in his chest, and for once, none of his usual skepticismâthat feeling of, something this good couldnât possibly be happening to a chump like me.
Itâs different. Settled, like itâs been decided already.
Heâs been waiting at the starting block his entire fucking life, and now finally here it is: the sound of the pistol.
âYou wanna go out with me, Gallagher?â
Ianâs face splits open, smiling, yet serene. Says, âLead the way, Milkovich.â
This time, when Ian leaves the shop, heâs not alone.
đ
END OF SCENE TWO
đ
As he walks alongside a silent Mickey Milkovich, Master Barber, Ian rolls his shoulders back, pulling damp fabric away from his sweat-soaked back.
Is it 100 fucking degrees out here?
Fuck, heâd been so slick beforeânothing like heâd been during that first haircut, thank godâbut apparently that persona, like everything else in his life, is unsustainable. Destined to continue cycling until heâs old and decrepit.
He looks over at Mickey, whoâs worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, and he wants to reach over and pull it out. Replace it with his thumb, his lips, his tongue.
đ¤
He has no idea about the similar war thatâs raging inside of Mickey right now, or the endless barrage of should haves currently sloshing around his skull.
When they left the shop: Shit, do I hold the door for him? I should have held the fucking door for him.
While they make their way to the taco truck that Mickey suggested, before finding a place to sit in the park across the way: Fuck, was all that talk about paying just banter? I should have made sure before we left.
Mickey sneaks a glance at Ian, whoâs already looking back.
đ¤
They both give a shy smile; a nervous laugh. Eyes snapping back towards the never-ending sidewalk theyâre walking. When it inevitably happens again, Ian gets caught.
âIâm a little nervous,â he admits, the moment before he collides with a nearby trash can, hip-checking it as he passes. âOw!â
âOh shit, man, you ok?â
âYeahâhah, fuckâIt didnât reallyââ
âGot ya real good there.â
Mickeyâs stopped in front of him, his brows furrowed, hands reaching towards Ianâs waist, and Ian lowers his hand, defensively.
Their fingers brush against one another.
Sparks fucking fly.
âIâm nervous, too,â Mickey mumbles.
đ¤
Ian finds the sentiment shocking. From the moment he walked into the shop, Mickey has been nothing but put-together. Professional, precise, and placid.Â
A little hard to read too, but Ian thinks the fact that he didnât laugh in his face at the idea of a date is a good sign.
But nervous? There isn't a single universe in which Ian Gallagher thinks Mickey Milkovich might be nervous.
The implications churn in his gut like ocean waves under the fierce force of heavy storm winds. Turbulent and blue-grayâa perfect match for the eyes currently dodging his gaze.
Made possible by @galladrabbles (if you haven't given it a try, you should! The more the merrier!)
I have joined the little train of fics written in one little 100 word drabble at a time. This is inspired by this post. (Heads up, I suppose the post will have spoilers lol)
Each week's word will be orange and each drabble will be separated by a đ
23rd week added (Dec. 9): Universe
â˘â˘â˘
Mickey is fucking excited.
Some might even call him giddy but to hell with those people because he ain't that fucking gay, alright?
But he is excited. Fucking elated.
Because he's just entered the airport with Ian, his husband, and they're finally going on an actual vacation.
Hawaii.
Two whole weeks of nothing but sun, sand, hotel sex, fruity drinks you'd be ridiculed for drinking on the South Side.
It's going to be amazing and they fucking deserve it.
Vacation starts now, as they board the plane, a knowing smile is all it takes.
Mile high club, here they come.
đ
Ian's tipsy already and he's grinning like an idiot.
But fuck it.
They're on vacation, Ian's hitting that perfect spot that makes Mickey go crazy, and the lady knocking on the bathroom door is just making their departure to the mile high club even more memorable.
"Mick- I'm-"
"Yeah- fuck... I'm close."
Ian sucks on Mickey's neck and that's all it takes before he's coming, his body shuddering as Ian bites down, following his husband into pure bliss.
Another knock on the door.
Ian's still holding Mickey up against the wall and they both laugh breathlessly.
The bitch can wait.
đ
The absolute look of terror on the bitch's face makes Mickey chuckle as he smirks at her, slipping into his Hawaiian shirt before saying, "All yours."
He follows Ian back to their seats not even trying to cover up the smile that radiates from his face.
"Goddamn, Gallagher. We should go on vacation more often."
Ian gives Mickey's hand a loving squeeze, leaning over and kissing him on the shoulder.
"Think grandma will tell on us?"
"Who cares... What are they gonna do? Pull the plane over?"
Ian lays his head on his husband's shoulder. "Wake me if they do."
đ
Ian sleeps almost the entire flight. There's a small puddle of drool drying on Mickey's shoulder, and even though some might think it's gross, Mickey loves it. Tiny snapshots of "normal" that always manage to leave him breathless.
Ian yawns, wiping the sleep from his eyes, stretching as much as their tiny seats allows. "Did you sleep?"
Mickey shakes his head. "Fuck no. Someone has to put the oxygen mask on your dumbass if shit goes sideways. I ain't spending my vacation planning your fucking funeral, man."
"I love you too, Mick." He kisses him softly. "You're a fucking romantic."
đ
Mickey knew this would happen.
He'd be fucking insane to think that he would ever be entitled to a stress-free, everything goes right, vacation.
So, when Mickey can't find his suitcase, he's not even shocked. Hell, there's probably some prophecy written in blood, foretold by some white supremacist, homophobic asshole, that says Milkoviches can't have nice things.
But, leave it to Ian to find it twenty minutes later after leading an embarrassing search party for a suitcase that only holds lube and about six pairs of swimming trunks.
And in the lobby of the Hawaii International Airport, Mickey fucking swoons.
đ
Mickey's not sure what it is about Hawaii, but in the cab on the way to their hotel, he can't keep his hands off his husband.
They're on vacation. What better time to just enjoy the tall drink of water that is Ian?
When their lips touch, it's like a shot of lightning coursing between them. Ian smiles into the kiss before moving lower and softly nuzzling against Mickey's neck.
The fun ends abruptly when they pull up to a cheap ass Holiday Inn. Mickey is beyond confused.
"This isn't-"
"Uh, yeah... I switched hotels. This one had great reviews."
đ
Mickey looks up at the ugly tan building. "Like what? Got a fucking STD but didn't die?"
Ian laughs and shrugs. "We're in Hawaii, does the hotel really matter?"
Instead of answering, Mickey grabs his bag and stomps inside the lobby where a girl greets him with a smile.
"Aloha! Here to check in?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
Her smile fades and she looks confused as Ian jogs up to them. "Checking in under Gallagher."
"Which one?"
Mickey raises an eyebrow at her.
"Ian."
She grins and clicks something on her computer."Got it! I'm Clover. I'll show you to your room."
đ
Mickey hopes this is a joke. He knows, for a fucking fact, that they had decided on the bougie hotel with the oceanfront view.
Not. This.
But, as they enter the room, he's worried because there hadn't been any signs of oncoming mania that he could recall.
"Somethin' wrong with the other place?"
Ian just shrugs. "The trip was just a bit more expensive than we initially thought."
And that's a lie. He knows it.
But, there's no evidence behind Ian's eyes of a war that sometimes rages within.
So, Mickey relents. "They got any alcohol up in this bitch?"
đ
It's only been two days in this shit hole and "understanding" Mickey has disappeared. Because fuck that and fuck this damp room with the mildew smell and the tiny bottles of Malibu Rum that couldn't even get a toddler drunk.
He tried to be a supportive husband. He tried to let it go.
But he can feel the anger simmering. That Milkovich wrath that's fucking etched into his soul. Something he just can't shake. It's why he'll be a shitty dad and it's why he can't hold it back when he finally asks,
"Who the fuck is the other Gallagher?"
đ
Ian's eyes meet Mickey's. "What?"
"Why did she ask you that, Ian? I swear to God if one of your siblings pop out-"
Ian cuts him off, wrapping his arms around Mickey's waist. "I reserved the room under both of our names. That's it."
Mickey places his hands on the sides of Ian's face. "Baby, I really want this trip to be just about us, okay? No phones, no business talk, no Gallagher family tradition of inserting themselves into our lives."
"This trip is only about us."
"You swear?"
Ian nods, "I swear," and they seal it with a kiss.
đ
Mickey's barely awake when Ian throws open the curtains, drowning their room in sunlight.
"Wake up, Sleepy Head! I got an entire day planned! Pineapple picking, a helicopter ride, a luau where they roast an actual pig in the ground-"
Mickey sits up, rubbing his eyes. "What fucking time is it?"
"Nine."
"In the morning?"
Ian just nods. "I know, we're already running late." He tosses a Hawaiian shirt at Mickey. "Get dressed."
But Mickey isn't going anywhere. He slides back down into the comfy bed. "Yeah, no. It's too early. You want a ride? Get back in bed, Red."
đ
After giving him a "Mickey ride", which has no relation to that fucking corporate mouse and way better than some stupid helicopter ride, Ian's cellphone rings.
"We said, no phones."
Ian grabs it blindly off the nightstand, bolting up immediately. "Shit- I gotta take this... It's... Tami."
"Tami? The fuck she want?" Ian looks worried which makes Mickey worry. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, it's just..." He takes a deep breath. "Lip wants her to eat his ass so I've been giving her tips."
Mickey is mortified. "T. M. Fucking I, Ian! I could have gone my entire life not knowing that!"
đ
Ian steps out onto the patio, talking to Tami in hushed tones that Mickey is grateful for. Lip's sex life is not something that anyone needs to know about.
He takes a shower and gets dressed. Secretly excited to spend the day doing stupid tourist shit with Ian. Just because they can.
The patio door is cracked and Ian's voice drifts into the room. "Look, we got distracted... oh, fuck you, Lip. We've got time-"
Mickey moves closer and listens.
"We'll be gone in like thirty minutes. Did you book the... yeah but they need to be... okay, fine... bye."
đ
Mickey spends his day being a dorky tourist with his equally dorky husband.
He does not bring up the conversation he overheard this morning, even though he wants to. It's right there, itching to crawl out of his fucking skin and make Ian and this entire fucking island his bitch.
But, one thing he's learned, after escaping prison, is that you can't always go in guns blazing. Sometimes, getting to the resolution takes a different approach, a more covert operation, if you will.
He will not allow this vacation to be hijacked. His fun... fucking stolen... by LIP?
Hell no.
đ
It's late when they get back to their room, exhausted from a long day of sightseeing. But Mickey's got shit to do.
Grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the dresser, he checks the time and gestures towards the door.
"Gonna go get some fresh air."
Ian snuggles into the bed, mumbling a soft, "kay," before sleep takes over.
Closing the door quietly behind him, Mickey heads outside, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind, who he'll find smoking at this particular time.
Rounding the corner, he doesn't even act surprised. "So," he thumbs at his nose," whatcha doin' here, Lip?"
đ
"So, figured it out?"
"Ian's a shit liar. Always has been."
Lip nods at that. "It's his eyes. Always give him away."
"Why are you here... Phillip?"
He smirks, pocketing his e-cig. "Thought you had it figured out... Mikhailo."
"Well, I figure if I hit you hard enough Ian'll feel it... considering you two are practically attached at the fucking hip."
But Lip's more occupied with his phone than Mickey's mostly empty threat. "Mm, cool story, bro... hey, uh, you still like that Bon Jovi guy, right?"
"Obviously... wait... what? Why?"
Lip just grins as he walks away. "G'night, Mickey."
â˘â˘â˘
Ch. 2 (Ian's POV) đ
đ
Ian wakes up... disappointed.
Instead of soft touches and eager lips, he gets harsh knocks and an irritated, "Ian, wake the fuck up!"
Glancing around the room, he immediately notices that Mickey isn't there.
And he laughs, because obviously his husband forgot the room key while getting coffee.
But, Ian's grin fades away when he sees Lip standing outside his door.
"What-?"
"Ian. He knows and he's fucking pissed."
"Shit- where is he?"
Lip sighs, looking guilty as he hands over a napkin that reads:
Think of a real good excuse before you leave that room, Firecrotch.
Mickey & Tami
đ
Ian stares at the note, trying to make sense of where things went sideways. He had everything planned, everything was going so well-
"So, uh... any ideas?"
And, no, Lip. He doesn't have any fucking ideas, alright? But there is one thing...
"Wait- He's not mad at Tami?"
The look on his older brother's face is all he needs to know.
"Jesus, Lip! You didn't tell her?"
And his brother has the audacity to look annoyed. " Course I fuckin' told her! I mean..." He pauses before continuing, "she was busy reading Freddie a bedtime story at the time, but-"
đ
Ian groans. "Goddamn it! Everything is fucking ruined now."
"Okay, that's a bit dramatic."
But Ian isn't listening, he's too busy spiraling. "I should have just told him. I shouldn't have tried to surprise him... he fucking hates that shit anyway." He stops to look at Lip. "What should I do?"
"You're asking me?" Lip's eyes meet his brother's and, truth be told, he's got nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Love and marriage? Fixing arguments? How can he have the solution if he's never even experienced the problem?
Cause Lip walks his road alone as Ian and Mickey walk theirs together.
đ
"Mickey only knows that we're here and he thinks that you paid for that to happen."
Ian feels relief wash over him. "Wait. That's it?"
Lip nods. "That's it. So stop panicking. Things are still going according to plan."
"Okay. I can definitely work with that." Ian throws a shirt on along with a wrinkled pair of shorts before exiting his room, shoving Lip down the hall to lead the way. "They by the pool?"
"Yep."
One hundred different scenarios run through Ian's head as they make their way outside. He'd made it this far, what was one more week?
đ
Ian spots Mickey immediately and he looks... happy. The way he should be, not mad because of a tiny white lie. Ian lives for moments like this. When Mickey isn't aware he's being watched. A smile on his face, a laugh thrown up in the air as he teaches Freddie to blow bubbles in his milk.
But then, their eyes meet, and there it is. That scowl. The narrowing of eyes, the crossing of arms. All familiar signs that an argument is imminent.
So, holding out hope that having Freddie around will soften the blow, Ian takes a step forward.
đ
But, as he approaches them, Tami stands, picking Freddie up before bending down to whisper something in Mickey's ear. He nods and suddenly, it's just them.
Ian and Mickey.
Mickey and Ian.
If sound effects happened in real life, Ian knows he'd hear that western whistle, indicating a stand-off. A fool-proof way to know that two Southside husbands are about to collide and people should scatter, leave them alone to take their shots, even if they're just words.
Because they can be painful. Because they can fucking cut deep.
"Mornin' Sunshine." Mickey gestures at the chair across from him. "Sit."
đ
"Okay, on a scale from one to ten... how mad are you, really?" Ian waits for an answer, needs to know how much he has to apologize for.
Mickey bounces his leg, anger radiating off him. "I don't think, at least in our universe, that there is a number high enough for your fucking scale, Ian."
"That's fair-"
Mickey scoffs. "That's fair? You serious right now, Gallagher?"
"Mick-"
"Fuck. You. Tell me the truth, right fucking now or I swear to god, Ian, I'm getting on a plane tonight and going back to Chicago." He crosses his arms. "Without you."
Current WIPS (all updated weekly unless noted otherwise)
Run, Rabbit, Run - Â
Bang, bang, bang, bang goes the farmerâs gun
Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run, run
(aka the Monster-Fucking fic.)
Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot PODFICÂ - Podfic of @dodgerbear84âs classic NYE reunion fic. Ian is living his dream in the army, living in New York and training cadets at West Point. Only the big city has never really felt like home and he has a Mickey Milkovich shaped hole in his life. A chance encounter could change everything.
Game Face On - Kinktober story, Mickey is a drudgery worker, plagued by dreams of his new coworker. Things go awry on the most important day of the year. Hijinks ensue?
Interview With The Vampire Fics and Related Works
The Devil Doesnât Bargain -Â Â
The devil doesnât bargain
Itâs useless, donât do this
Itâs hubris to try
Heâs ruthless, you knew this
I told you, didnât I?
Heâs abusive, elusive
The truth is, he lies
I know you donât want to let go
Everything for Free -Â Â
âI donât know who you are
But you seem very nice
So will you talk to me
Shall I tell you a story
Shall I tell you a dream?â
Kâs Choice - Everything For Free
Louis awakes to find himself in captivity.
This is the story of where he is, and who he meets.
Shine -Â Louis is a service top, Lestat his bratty sub. Just a peek inside Louisâ mind and motivations in this scenario.
Doll -Â âI love you like this, my darling Louis. My beautiful, empty headed, little fool. The only vampire in history who longed to be a human. But no more.â Here, he would chuckle. âNow you know what you were made for, what you are meant to do for eternity.â
Works on Hiatus or Delay
Immortals Anonymous - What substances control the minds and souls of those whose lives can never end? Creep in and listen as the creatures that go bump in the night spill their storiesâŚ. ON AMAZON VELLA
Do the Stars Gaze Back? - Stardust AU. Fine if youâre not familiar with the source content. A fairy tale with a happy ending. And some twists along the way. (On Hiatus.)
Not Just Penpals - Â What if Ian didnât completely leave Mickey all alone in prison? (with @fyeahgallavich) (Updates as we write.)
Gallavich Week 2021 Fics
Post Series Finale - Doing Dishes
Fantasy AU - The Taste of Mickey
Travel/Vacation - The Keys to Happiness
Historical AU - A New York Love Story (deals with 9/11)
Fix It / Rewrite -Â The Great Untitled Rimming Story (with @ms-moonlight-inn)
Meet-Ugly - Riding Lessons
Gallavich Week 2022Â - Art Entries
Day 1: Trials and Tribulations
Day 2: True Love
Day 3: Painting Based (Nighthawks)
Day 4: Gallavich Week 2022 - Art Entries! (17 words) by NotHereNJ
Day 5:
Film Based (Love, Actually)
Day 6: Based on Gallavich Fanwork When Iâm Lost at Sea
Day 7: Free Day (Bad Memories)
Completed One Shots
White Xmas - Mickey shivered. Even with the heat in the apartment, cranked up, he was still naked, save for the yard after yard of white silk rope that adorned his body like a lanyard. Like a garland. Like Mickey was a whole goddamn Christmas tree.
Warmth -Â Itâs a lazy winter Sunday.
Guts - Â Mickey is a whole-ass adult, with a small, lonely life, aside from his rather unique pet. This is the story of how that all changes.
Caesura - cae¡su¡ra
/sÄËzyoÍorÉ,siËZHoÍorÉ/
noun
(in Greek and Latin verse) a break between words within a metrical foot.
(in modern verse) a pause near the middle of a line.
Lou Reed Was Full Of Shit -Â A heavy angst picnic. Mind the tags!
Eggs, Corn, and Tofu -Â Mickey goes on a diet, results are mixed.
Suck it Harder - So I saw this photo set online⌠and here we are. (More angst)
As it Was -Â Ian had cheated. The words ran around and around in Mickeyâs mind, chasing each other until none of it made sense.
(Story based around Harry Stylesâ As It Was)
Monsters in the Basement -Â The prompt on twitter was âWhatâs in the Milkovich Basement?â in 500-1000 words. And of course, I went wild on word count and made it part of my Fae Mickey universe - Part 3 of Bad Magic and Sharp Wings
Dance Monkey -Â They say, âOh my God, I see the way you shine
Take your hands, my dear, and place them both in mineâ
You know you stopped me dead while I was passing by
And now I beg to see you dance just one more time.
The Sex Life of Frank Gallagher -Â 3 Times Frank Smashed + 1 Time He Was the One Destroyed
My cursed prompt was The Sexploits of Frank Gallagher. đŻ I tried?
The Unbearable Tension of Dust Jackets - Nerdy College AU gift fic
I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship - Another song ficlet, about friendship and pining.
17 Going Under -Â Ian confronts Lip after he spouts off about Tamiâs grooming by her teacher. (Song ficlet.)
ABCDEFU -Â Byron doesnât know the meaning of the word âover.â But Mickey sure as hell does. (Song ficlet.)
Youâll Never Know, Dear -Â Ian felt clean. Not his body, of course. That was caked in mud: he knew heâd be scrubbing it from his pores tonight in the shower.
Come Over (Again) -Â This is the first in a series of ficlets inspired by songs. Iâll try put them all in a collection, but this one is first. If you havenât listened to Come Over (Again) by The Crawlers, you should start there.
Also, I am not trans. I deliberately skimmed over anything that I didnât have first hand experience with, because I am not an expert on trans identity or stories. If you catch an error in this area, please do comment and let me know. (Song ficlet.)
My World Has Teeth - Ian, an alpha, casually fucking a herd of betas/other alphas and longing for a real connection. Something worth getting out of bed for, instead of tepid reactions and thin, weak scents that donât even get his knot hard. He doesnât think heâll ever encounter a real omega, so he puts it out of his mind. Mickey, raised in an omega training camp after he was sold by his father immediately after his relatively late presentation. Now he is owned by another man, condemned to be a mindless breeding object. Until⌠(for the @spicygallavichcollab)
A Man with a Vengeful Plan -Â âYouâve never been loved, I can tell.â Angst fic for the @odietamo-gallavichzine Fanzine!
Who am I when Iâm not with you? -Â Prompt: Mickey has a case of doubt where his sexuality is concerned (this is after he asks Angie if she wants to fuck) - does he enjoy Ian because itâs forbidden or does he enjoy Ian because itâs his natural inclination? We often crave what we canât have and in Mickeyâs case, it was a case of âhe shouldnât have Ian if he wants to live."Â For @sisitrip and the Gallavich Holiday Gift Exchange 2021 @gallavichthings
High - A one shot set in 4x08 as Mickey contemplates his secret about Ian. For Speakfuckingenglish and the Gallavich Holiday Gift Exchange 2021Â @gallavichthings
Christmas is the time to say I love you -Â To Ianâs deep surprise, as their marriage continued, he discovered that Mickey loved Christmas. Not just enjoyed the holiday, but downright reveled in it.
Cream Filled (Donuts for your Birthday) -Â Mickey has a surprise planned for Ianâs birthday thatâs been three weeks in the making. Things are gonna get messy.
Late Night Calls -Â Mickey always takes Ianâs calls, no matter how late or how often. Because thatâs what friends do, right? (with @ms-moonlight-inn)
Donât Go Home (Halloween Horror!) -Â Ian has a stalker, but itâs harmless, right?
Right?
Pull-Apart Heart -Â Gallavich Kinktober Day 23: Praise Kink (with added Shibari for fun!)
The Great Untitled Rimming Story - with @ms-moonlight-inn  Y'all can call it whatever y'all want, upshotâs still the same. Two writers who donât normally write smut just taught each other how to write smut.Refit? Fixwrite? WriteIt? Fuck if we know.đđ âđżđ°đđđ¨đ đđ°đđ đŚđŤđŚđ đŚđđĽ°
Unmasked - The Tiktok/Cosplay AU literally no one asked for
Kiss Me and Iâll Cut Your Fuckinâ Tongue Out -Â But really, it was a test. And Mickey was the only one who knew it. (includes a podfic of the story.)
87% Solution - S11 Fix-It
Bitch - S11 Fix-It
Two Solitudes that Meet -Â How did Mickey Milkovich have his first time with a guy (not Ian)? Turns out, After Sex (2007) nicely answers that question.Â
Fathers/Sons -Â Mickey and Lip discuss relationships and fatherhood.
Angel of the Subway -Â In New York, you didnât even make eye contact at all if you could help it, let alone hold it for more than seven seconds, through multiple blinks.
Letâs Hang Out - Mini BDSM AU
Itâs Whatâs on the Inside that Counts, Right? - Fluffy Drabble of what Mickey says and what he really means
Completed Multi Chapter FicsÂ
Hey Mickey - Â Ian Gallagher was handsome, smart and completely gay, meaning that he didnât attract many boys. Unfortunately for his younger sister, Debbie , house rules said that she canât date until Ian has a boyfriend, so strings were pulled to set up a romance. Soon Ian crossed paths with abrasive but handsome senior. Did Ian let his guard down enough to fall for the effortlessly charming Mickey? Of course. Now, Ian just wants to ask his damn boyfriend to prom, but worries whatever gesture he makes wonât measure up.
A REAL Lover - Mickey buys a sex doll with red hair. Chaos ensues.
A Grinding Halt - Â Mickey is stuck in traffic in the middle of the Lincoln Tunnel, when the lights go out. When he and other emerge, the world they find is not the one they left behind. Now he and other survivors, including an annoying but useful redhead, each on their own journeys, must confront the new reality.
Honey, Ah Sugar Sugar - Mickey & Ian have a series of conversations where they talk about candy and end up discussing their feelings. AKA How to be a healthy-ass adult. AKA It always starts as one thing with these assholes, and ends up as something else entirely. âCause thatâs life, people. Thatâs life. co-written with @ms-moonlight-inn
Material Boy - A story of Mickey and Ian in recovery from substance use disorders. This is the sequel to By and By.
BOOK-U-UP- Mickey Milkovich owns a small bookshop near the campus of Northwestern University.
The Horrified Nurse - Shameless Big Bang with @ms-moonlight-inn and art by @y0itsbri This is the story of how Nursey-boy and Grump-ass meet and fall in love. AKA Love Songs in the Key of Dumbassery
Riding Lessons - Â A horse show AU where Mickey is an experienced judge and Ian is very new to the horse world.
Dude, Whereâs My Ambulance? with @tumblfish  Mickey and Ian wake to find the ambulance gone. Who, and how, and when are the questions, but first they need to deal with each other.
No Spoons Left, Only Knives - A round-robin domesticity fic with @marzgaperez and @tumblfishÂ
All You Knead Is Love - Great British Bake Off AU.Â
Itâs Ok, Angel - Inspired by the art of JB/Whatsamattavich this is the story of an Angel and a Man who save each other.
The King of All He Surveys -Â Season 8? We donât know her.
Reclaiming the Bear Back chub bar scene, but make it đGallavichđ!
Mickey is the King of the club, and Ian, his latest admirer.
(No Ian/Trevor)Â 6.6k
Meet me in Cognito, baby. In Cognito, weâll have nothing to hide. - Mickeyâs a stripper, and heâs quite happy about it. But then a regular develops an unhealthy obsession with him, and things progress⌠(with @gallavich1012) 26k
Love, Guaranteed -Â After 1000 first dates, Ian is still single. So is Mickey, the lawyer he hires to sue his dating app. All evidence points to romance. 27k
Mickeyâs 5 Alibis + the 1 He Didnât Need -Â Why were they always leaving each other, why couldnât they ever just stay together in one place, and be safe? 8k
 Wrongly, Right - "You remove your tattoo because you hate the idea of someone dictating who you can be with for the rest of your life and the person whoâs removing it happens to be your soulmate and theyâre torn between letting you know and just not bringing it up because you kind of went there because you didnât want a soulmate and vice versa.â 13k
When Iâm lost at sea I hear your voice - San Junipero Gallavich AUÂ 13k
Renaissance Men - Mickey as a poet and they meet at a lounge where Mickey is performing as Ian sits in the audienceâŚor, maybe Ian could be the bartender? 6kÂ
Monsters of the Southside - The FaeMickey Urban Fantasy Wingfic 30k
Monsters of the Clove Court - Some secrets refuse to stay buried, and some journeys must be undertaken. Sequel to Monsters of the Southside, picking up very shortly after the end of that story.
Waiting for a Star to Fall - (Genderbent)Â 5 times Leeann Clayton Gallagher tried to get Mikayla Alexandra Milkovichâs attention, and 1 time she finally succeeded. 4k
Cesium-133 - TiMER AU -Â The path to love, even with TiMERs to show you when you find it, never runs smoothly. How will Ian Gallagher, anxious EMT and hopeless romantic, find his One? 38k
The Kash Flow Problem - Grooming, and getting out of it. 4k
Christmas Wrapping - Based on the holiday song by The Waitresses 2k
Father Christmas -Â Back in the day, a perfect gift arrives for Ian, but it canât be from Santa, can it? 2k
Fearful Symmetry - âWe had a really big break-up three hundred years ago, but neither of us realized the other was immortal until we met today while shopping for groceriesâ Gallavich AU.
Pie Guy - Â Mickey Milkovich is a waiter living in the American South, trapped in an unhappy life with his spying, pregnant wife Svetlana, and his controlling, abusive father, Terry. He works as a waiter at Joeâs Pie Diner, where his job includes creating inventive pies. Mickeyâs secret ambition is to save enough money from his job to escape with his sister. Shameless/Waitress AU.
The Lion and The Maiden - A Federal Agent and a Carnie Archer. A lonely dom and an isolated sub. But will they be able to overcome all of societyâs expectations? M/M romance, not Gallavich. ON AMAZON VELLA
A Grinding Halt- Nick is deep under the Hudson River, in the Lincoln Tunnel when something happens on the surface. When he emerges, the world is changed. Now, he is determined to get to his sister on the other side of New Jersey, convinced she survived. He and a few other survivors must navigate the unique perils of their new reality. Another survivor is on his own journey, one that seems inextricably linked to Nickâs. M/M romance (not quite Gallavich) Â ON AMAZON VELLA or KindleÂ
Looking For⌠- Based on the HBO series, Ian lives in San Francisco with his brother and friends. He has a tendency to be naĂŻve and has been generally unlucky in love, but things in Ianâs life change upon meeting handsome yet cocky Mission barber Mickey and the arrival of his new boss, the attractive but partnered Kevin.
SeriesÂ
Song Ficlets -Â These are VERY short moments all inspired by various Tiktok songs and memes.
Harmâs Way - Ian and Mickey meet in prison, with very different backgrounds.
The Recovery Series - Mickey and Ian both end up in recovery, but the path is a rocky one. This is their journey, through the steps, to each other.Â
Bad Magic and Sharp Wings - FaeMickey wingfic series. Monsters of the Southside and Monsters of the Clove Court. 62k
Podfics (both mine and other peopleâs stories, my voice and editing)
Book-U-Up (the podfic) - Mickey Milkovich owns a small bookshop near the campus of Northwestern University. This story should feel like the perfect autumnal drink of hot tea, all lemony and sweet at the same time. Romantic, seasonal fluff with a guaranteed happy ending. Thereâs no great plot, thereâs no amazing art, just a fic that feels like fall. (read by the author.)
Embrace Me by Rumblefish14 - Approved podfic of a work not available on AO3.
The Tension & The Spark by  @dodgerbear84 - This is a podfic of a completed work by another author. đĽ°Â
Black & Yellow by @dodgerbear84 (1/1)
Graveyard Shift by @ms-moonlight-inn (1/1)
Thank You, Netflix by Blodeuwedd (1/1)
Angel of the Subway by me (1/1)
BOOK-U-UP by me (ongoing)
Coming Eventually (untitled projects)
More angst
Surprises!
Collabs!
Holiday Gift Exchange work!
Related Works
Once a Day - by @krod1017 This takes place in the Material Boy universe created by the lovely NotHereNJ. Mickey has relapsed after taking care of his shitty father during the pandemic. He hears a song that makes him sit down and write something to Ian. For Ian. đ¤
Gifts
I Love You Like This - fanart for Doll by @gauche-marbolic (IWTV)
A Last Dance with My Love by Knightsbridge07Â (IWTV)
In the Words of Louis by Knightsbridge07Â (IWTV)
to seduce and terrify and destroy by ofthesummer (IWTV)
Pacing The Back Room by @ms-moonlight-inn
The Dead Butterfly by @ms-moonlight-inn
Juan Valdez Can Kiss My Ass by ALL15ofem
Mutually Beneficial by Ravenheart
i like âem sweet by MarzgaPerez
While the mouseâs away⌠by @tumblefish
workinâ it out (whataya want from me?) by TeddyLaCroix (Marvel)