Just Here To Read And Like

[kowhaifairy]

Sooooo I wrote a little something. It’s the first thing longer than 100 words that I’ve written in decades so bear that in mind! 😆

But I hope you like it 😊

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[kowhaifairy]

@galladrabbles time!

The lovely @runninonemptyy has given the prompt

Flutter

Mickey heard giggling as he walked down the stairs. “You’re being fuckin’ loud. I can’t sleep.”

“Uncle Ian is giving me butterfly kisses”

“The fuck are butterfly kisses?”

“Uncle Ian, give Uncle Mickey one!”

“No fuckin’ way. Only kiss Uncle Ian can give me has to use tongue not insects”

“It’s not real butterflies silly”

“It’s ok Franny, I’ll show him”

Ian held Mickey’s face.

“What is happening?”

He felt the lightest flutter on his cheek as Franny giggled, then Ian’s lips were on his.

“You can keep your insect kisses kiddo. The real thing is just fine by me”

[runninonemptyy]

I’m probably cheating by writing a fic (ficlet?) for newbies week, but since I’ve never written an outside POV fic (or written a fic in second person POV) I figured it would work!

Thank you @kowhaifairy for making an outsider POV randomizer wheel for me! This was the one I landed on.

And of course thank you to @gallavichthings for hosting!

Fic below the cut…

…or read it on ao3 here!

Where Ian Gallagher at?

I can’t believe I wasted my best outfit on this shit.

It’s the only thing running through your mind as your surroundings slowly come into focus, a sharp pain radiating throughout your face.

Your hand immediately flies up to touch your nose, only to find that it’s thankfully still in one piece. Because this face is a hot commodity. You can’t afford to have a broken nose marring this impeccably pristine canvas.

You hadn’t expected the night’s events to land you here, lying on the floor of some bar, the unfortunate recipient of a punch that had been both completely uncalled for and, well, kinda fucking hot, if you’re being totally honest. And really, the shock of the initial impact was somewhat absorbed by the countless rounds of Henny you’ve consumed throughout the evening. You’re certainly feeling it now, though.

Given the way the night began, you really shouldn’t be surprised at how it seems to have ended. You’re certainly no stranger to meeting your Grindr hookups in… unconventional locations. Once, you even met a guy at a Chili’s. You may be fabulous as fuck, but you’ve never been one to turn down an Awesome Blossom followed by some grade A dick.

But tonight, you were expecting to be wined and dined by the sexy redhead with the abs you’d found on Grindr. You were expecting to go and watch some live music with your Prince Charming. You even wore your Louboutin pumps. Not the knock-offs, but the real ones. You worked hard to steal some rich old fuck’s credit card in order to purchase those shoes, and you only bring them out for special occasions.

Those Louboutins had no business stepping onto the sticky floor of a dingy dive bar. But you certainly know how to make an entrance. You always have. So you made the most of it. After all, you were going to be rewarded by bouncing on some redhead dick later, so you could power through. With enough alcohol, at least.

And of course, as predicted, all eyes were on you as soon as you walked into the place. You turn heads wherever you go, and this place was no different. You couldn’t blame them for staring. You’re sure it’s not often that these ordinary working class chumps get to feast their eyes on magnificence personified, so you allowed them to drink it all in. After all, you’re nothing if not charitable. A good samaritan, if you will. Basically Mother Teresa. With way better clothes.

The tall, redheaded drink of water sitting at the bar, though, with his shy and awkward wave—he was clearly just as enchanted with you as everyone else was—made the less than ideal setting more than worth it. The big guy pouring drinks behind the bar wasn’t so bad to look at, either.

When you finally arrived at the concert venue, you had high hopes. But your date’s mind seemed to be elsewhere. He seemed distracted. Like he was thinking about something—or someone—else. And you weren't used to it. When someone’s with you, their attention is always 100% on you. Where the fuck else would it be?

So you weren’t having that shit. You figured letting him watch you walk away as you went to fetch some drinks, even giving him an absolutely peak view of your incredible assets while you popped it to the music, would recapture his attention. His full attention.

But then you discovered the reason for your date’s distraction. A little cutie with black hair and blue eyes who looked like your “bad boy” wet dream, but with a soft side. Like he could either beat the shit out of you at the drop of a hat or softly caress your cheek and whisper sweet nothings into your ear after a few rounds of out-of-this-world sex. It would be a complete toss up. And you’d thank him for either one—although having now been on the receiving end of that first option, you're certainly second-guessing your initial perception.

That’s not to say that the punch wasn’t kinda hot, though. Because it was.

After several minutes of listening to the hipster band with matching suspenders and a harpist, you started to resign yourself to the fact that you’d be spending tonight drinking alone. Because your redhead’s eyes were constantly wandering. Wandering back to the bad boy hottie, clearly someone with whom your date had some very complicated history.

And then your mind began to wander. Because maybe you thought you might want to get in between that, you might just love to sandwich yourself right in the middle of your redhead and his bad boy. Maybe you could take them both home and show them a good time.

But you didn’t have long to ponder the possibility, because, unbeknownst to you, your seemingly mild-mannered date wasn’t so mild-mannered after all. And damn, you knew those big hands were good for something. Because the idea of being handled by that man in the bedroom was becoming more and more appealing by the second. You were pretty sure you’d be able to work around the crutches and broken leg. You’re flexible like that.

And maybe the bad boy hottie-with-a-body was thinking the exact same thing. Because he was also standing there, watching with rapt attention while your date went apeshit on a poor, unsuspecting victim. You and the dark-haired cutie were both standing there, getting completely turned on by the scene unfolding only feet away, watching your man take no shit and give zero fucks.

Just as you were expressing your desire to do gymnastics on what you were certain would’ve been a spectacular dick, and were only seconds away from asking the thug muffin with the cute ass if they’d both be open to having a little fun, you felt a jolt and everything went black.

Now, as you’re slowly coming to, you can hear a distant voice, even through the ringing in your ears. “I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll fuckin’ marry you.”

Then, there’s scattered applause followed by the unmistakable voice of your… well, former date. “Shit, we’d better get the fuck outta here.”

“Fuck, lemme get your crutches,” the other voice shouts, and then there’s the scuffle of footsteps. By the time you’re finally able to push yourself up to standing, you can see your date heading out the door with his apparent fiancé. And if he wasn’t on crutches, you’re pretty sure they’d be running and laughing and holding hands. But as it is, all they’re doing is looking at each other and smiling. And, fuck, maybe you want that too. Maybe that’s true love. Damn.

Once you’ve brushed yourself off, cursing the fact that your best outfit came into contact with the dirty floor, you plant yourself at the bar and decide to order another drink. Because why the hell not? The night is still young, and there are plenty of fish in the sea. Fish who would swim right to you in a heartbeat.

And as you’re taking another sip of Henny, you see one of those fish approaching. Another redhead, albeit much smaller than the other one. This one doesn’t look like he could throw you around in the bedroom like the other one could, but that’s fine. You’ve never had a problem doing the throwing.

The guy comes closer, and you can see, based on the swelling around his eye, that he’s been another casualty of the whole debacle. Of the unconventional couples therapy that you had the misfortune of bearing witness to. Although based on the way your date was railing away on the guy, his face has come away mostly unscathed.

“Hi,” the smaller man says as he casually leans against the bar and takes you in from head to toe. Now this is the reaction you're used to receiving. “I’m Byron.”

“Cole. Enchanté,” you reply, holding out your hand, palm down. Byron takes it and kisses it gently. And now you’re certain that your night has taken a turn for the better.

Your eyes roam the other man’s body, and your tongue juts out to lick your lips invitingly. And if you channel your inner teenage fanboy and quote your favorite Enrique Iglesias lyric, then that’s for you and Byron to know. “Please excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude. But tonight I’m fucking you.”

Byron’s visible, nervous swallow is all the response you need.

And as you ride back to his place, sitting behind him on his Vespa—even wearing the helmet, despite the fact that it’s definitely fucking up your hair—you wonder if you’ve found your own Prince Charming, just like Ian Gallagher found his.

One can at least hope, right?

[runninonemptyy]

Your Hands by Angelina Weld Grimké (1880 –1958)

Tried something new for Gallavich Newbies Week! I’ve always loved this poem, and the idea wouldn’t leave my brain. Thank you @gallavichthings for hosting this and so many other amazing events for the fandom!

[kowhaifairy]

Fanfic Tope Either/Or Game

Thanks @awaywithherhead and @blue-disco-lights for tagging me.

Let’s see how everyone feels about some popular fanfic tropes.

ABO or Soulmates // fake dating or secret dating // fix-it or post-canon // mutual pining or friends-to-lovers // slow burn or angst // smut or romance // Reality TV au or Porn au //Enemies to lovers or Enemies to friends to lovers ( really don’t like them not liking each other) // Domestic Fluff or Hurt/Comfort // Coffee Shop au or College au // one-shot or multi-chapter // Crossover or canon compliant // mpreg or adoption // online romance or workplace romance // single parent au or sports au // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au.

Lots of those I’m pretty 50/50 on like coffee shop or college, online or workplace, single parent or sports, neighbours or roommates and sci-fi or magic. When it comes to AU fics, I’m pretty unfussy.

Tagging @runninonemptyy , @jrooc , @annisefreya , @casey-ackkat @dreamjupiter , @echotrees , @ian-galagher , @jessij1997 , @katicusdramaticus , @nicosgelos @oathkeptroxas , @pillowbee , @thisaintmacys

(Apologies if you’ve already been tagged and done it )

[runninonemptyy]

This week’s @galladrabbles prompt from @blue-disco-lights was “Don’t.”

“Fast Car” came up on Spotify while I was driving and this randomly entered my brain. A little S3 canon divergence.

—————————————————————————

“If you give half a shit about me,” he says.

“Don’t do this,” he pleads.

But he doesn’t know you have a plan.

You crash your lips against his. Not a goodbye, but a promise.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” you say.

“What? Really?” he asks.

You grab his wrist and run outside, eyes scanning the shitty cars lined up along the curb—just waiting to be stolen.

It’s easy. You can hotwire a car in your sleep.

You sit in the driver's seat and he sits beside you.

“Let’s ride,” he says.

And that’s exactly what you do.

[kowhaifairy]

Haven’t posted any @galladrabbles in a while. @blue-disco-lights prompt this week is “Don’t”

———————————————

Mickey stomped inside after another evening dealing with Terry. “Fuck I wish I was adopted.”

“I asked Terry if you were once.”

“The fuck?! When?”

“Before prison.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I was freaking out and he knows prison.”

“That’s fuckin’ true. But how did the adoption thing come up?”

“He was telling me about the, um, “things” that happen there. I asked if it had happened to him and he told me ‘Milkoviches don’t bottom’…”

Ian went quiet.

Mickey went still.

“And then YOU ASKED IF I WAS ADOPTED???? What the hell Ian!”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t resist.”

[runninonemptyy]

**New fic alert!** The first chapter is up. Updating three times per week.

lessons in what comes after

Summary:

Mickey is a high school economics teacher and debate coach who prides himself on having a well-established, comfortable routine.

Enter Ian Gallagher, a movie star whose reputation precedes him, and who left it all behind in need of a fresh start.

When Ian gets hired as the school’s new theater arts teacher and their worlds collide, everything they thought they knew about life in general might be turned upside down.

And maybe they'll both learn important lessons about taking chances along the way.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[runninonemptyy]

Thank you @crossmydna for this week’s @galladrabbles prompt, Sticker!

————————————————————————

Mickey sits on the bedroom floor, stacks of boxes everywhere, an old notebook in his hand. He kept it for all these years. Doesn’t know why.

Band stickers cover the front of it, and inside are various sketches and doodles.

One of them catches his eye.

A familiar face with Mickey’s own scribbles surrounding it.

Ian Gallagher sucks

Stupid ass freckles

Dumb red hair

“You ready to pack the moving truck?” his husband calls out.

Mickey throws the notebook into one of the boxes. Because sometimes the past can be a reminder that you finally have what you’ve always wanted.

[ian-galagher]

Chapter 30 - No Goodbyes Until the End

Length: 6k / total length: 362k

Rating: Explicit

Chapter summary: Ian's heading to the airport to catch his flight home

Summary: When Ian lands himself an internship with famous wildlife photographer Mickey Milkovich he can't believe his luck. Spending one month traveling through South Africa with his big hero is a dream come true. The two are off on a wild adventure but there's something mysterious about Mickey who seems to be holding more to his chest than just the tricks of the trade Ian had hoped to learn from him.

Click here to read chapter 30 or here to start from the beginning!

[kowhaifairy]

My inbox was blessed with this amazing and hilarious @pillowbee art. I’ll always love a Mickey rant especially in a valentine 🤣 ❤️❤️

[iandarling]

what sort of role playing do you think ian and mickey are into?

i think:

mickey!felon vs. ian!cop

mickey!enemy or mickey!soldier vs. ian!soldier

asdghjk yes

but also super lame boring stuff

“oh mr milkovich, im just a lonely house husband and my man is outta town ;))”

“fuck yeah and i’m gonna water your garden”

“what the fuck mickey?”

“you’re into all a’ those tomatoes! Don’t you want me to pick your weeds or sumthin’?”

“no, let’s just stick with patient and emt shit - lay down i’ll check your pusle”

“whatever you say gorgeous”

[runninonemptyy]

Thank you @suzy-queued for this week’s @galladrabbles prompt: Guns and Roses! So appropriate! I definitely went the soft and mushy route. 🥰

—————————————————————————

Ian’s never celebrated Valentine’s Day before. 

There was never any reason for it. Not when he and Mickey were apart, and not when they were going through shit. 

But now, they’re married. And Ian’s gonna go all out.

He’s gonna surprise his husband, the tough-as-nails badass who loves his guns but would melt and flush bright red if Ian gave him roses. 

So he spreads out the blanket, lights candles, and turns on “November Rain.”

Never mind the darkness

We still can find a way

Because no matter what, they’ve always found a way back to each other.

[runninonemptyy]

*New fic alert!* Updating every other day. Chapter 1 is up!

Summary:

The last time Mickey saw his best friend was ten years ago, on the worst night of his life. An underground fight gone horribly wrong.

Ian had to leave. He didn’t have a choice. Mickey never knew how he really felt.

When they meet again after all these years, under the most unlikely of circumstances, will time really heal all wounds?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/79029241/chapters/207309526

[nicosgelos]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

 HERE IT IS!! A NEW GALLAVICH FIC.

The first chapter of my new fic, The Man Made of Stardust is ready for all of you <3 I really hope you like it, I´m having the best time writing it.

Love all of u and thank u for being such an amazing fandom <3 

[runninonemptyy]

Thank you @mickeyismyian for this week’s @galladrabbles prompt, Stowaway!

—————————————————————————

“You were really cute playing pirates with Franny today,” Ian says, pulling Mickey onto his lap.

“Ain’t cute,” Mickey grumbles.

“You are,” Ian mutters against Mickey’s mouth, his hands wandering. “Had the pirate voice and everything. ‘Arrggh, a stowaway!’”

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey huffs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t ever do that fuckin’ voice again.”

Ian laughs as his fingers find the button of his husband’s jeans. “Speaking of, do we have any lube stowed away around here?”

“Dumbass,” Mickey mutters, his hips jutting forward to meet Ian’s touch. “Lube’s under the couch cushion.”

Because it’s always best to be prepared, right?

[runninonemptyy]

Another meet-cute added to the series!

Summary:

Ian takes the trip of a lifetime. A dream come true, really. But little does he know that it’s about to get so much better than he could’ve imagined.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/78318941