hi human!!

hello I'm suicidal bish love youu ❤️

[descendantsramblings]

Hi! I had a fic idea where Reader is Jays sister, and no one really knows that since they don’t interact with each other that much (there’s no team in I yk) and one day Harry and Reader start dating. And about six months into their relationship, something happens to Reader and Harry and Jay get really worried and Harry finds out you’re Jays sister and Jay finds out you’re dating Harry. If you don’t want to write it that’s completely fine :). I don’t know if you take requests or not, sorry

Yeah, I'm always open to requests, love, I'll try to get to it this week, right now I'm a little swamped with final projects and working on things for Christmas but I'll get to it when I get some free time.

[descendantsramblings]

Making A Splash

Harry Hook x Fem! reader, Brother!Jay x Reader

Summary: A wrong move puts a pause into a fight and leaves two people panicked and one hurt

CW: injury, blood, not a true beat drowning but a character who can’t swim in the deeper ocean, language

I hope this is close to what you imagined, love

The day was long overdue, both boys being at each other’s necks for as long as anyone could remember. But one loud splash took their attention from the other’s smirking faces to the other side of the dock. A panicked pirate stares at the water as if he had committed some crime against his own people. And as their eyes followed his gaze a sudden pit of fear filled their stomachs. Harry’s sword was the first to clatter against the old wood though he seemed more frozen in shock than anything. Or maybe it was fear. The flailing in the water coming from someone who was all too familiar to the both of them.

The girl takes a deep breath as she tries to force herself back up, though the water soon pushed her down again. The new slice in her leg burning as the salt water seeps into her skin. That’s what she gets for being related to Jay she guesses, it was only a matter of time until a quick glance got them confused. (Y/n) knew that she was growing into the resemblance of her half siblings, their father’s obnoxiously strong genetics starting to get the better of her. But it wasn't time to be bitter about that now, the panic was setting into her faster than it had set into either boy on the dock. Harry was right, she had no business on that dock that day, should have stayed in Ursula’s where she was safe. What type of idiot goes to a fight on a dock knowing that they can't swim? But it felt too late to worry about what if’s now. She didn’t have a time machine, she had to accept that she needed a savior. But she couldn’t quite get her mouth above water long enough to scream for help.

Luckily for her though, that savior came in the form of an all too well known face. Though if she was honest, he was the last person she ever expected to see try to save her. The exact thing that got her into that water would be the thing to pull her out, ironically enough. If she wasn't panicking for her own safety she'd be laughing. Jay jumping into the water after the younger girl, sword and enemy abandoned for someone he used to see as an enemy of sorts. It turned out Auradon skills could be a good thing on the Isle, because swimming was really coming in handy in that moment. Worry starting to settle as he got his arms around her, pulling her back towards the docks. Though she hadn't gotten very far out into the water, it still felt like a speeded blur to her, until the feeling of her body being placed onto the dock brought her back to the moment. Her breath heaving in shaky gasps as she spit the brine that had made its way into her mouth. Jay kneeling beside her, his leather clothing surely ruined by the salt water. And yet as he sat on the ground beside her, a hand on her back as if to keep her up, he couldn’t care less about it. “Hey, deep breaths. Relax, you’re okay,” the soft tone that accompanied his voice wasn’t what she was used to, and yet somehow it relaxed her all the same. “I owe you one,” her words were shaky as she tried to steady herself. “I wasn’t going to let you die,” he scoffs, though there was a slight playful edge to it that she wasn’t used to, “I couldn’t handle the guilt of that.”

She nods, moving to get up as he helped her find her footing. Harry finally seemed to snap back into the moment as he saw her standing there. Dripping wet and wobbly, eyeliner making dark lines down her cheeks. Her side leaning against Jay’s as she shivers, his arm protectively around her shoulders as he moves her away from the edge of the deck. The sound of fighting around them drowned out as he watched the scene. “You okay?” She nods a relieved, thankful smile replacing the feared look on her face. It made his own relieved look melt into one of confusion. Didn't (Y/n) and Jay hate each other? The pirate slinks across the old wood as he shrugs his jacket off his shoulders. Red leather soon finds its way to (Y/n)‘s shoulders as his arm finds her waist, pulling her away from Jay. “You alright, love?” His hand tries to wipe away the makeup that dropped down her face but as it smears with his touch he pulls back. “Yeah, just shaken up.” She leans her head against his shoulder, appreciating the familiar warmth of the Hook boy. Jay raises an eyebrow as his arms cross, inspecting the two before he notices her leg. “Shit, (Y/n)! You’re bleeding.” She looks down, adjusting Harry’s jacket to protect it from the blood, the cut nearly forgotten in the panicked state of her fearing her own demise. “It’s basically a scratch, it’ll heal.” “Keep it clean,” he sounded like a dad, but then again, he often did. It was some of her few memories of actually being at her dad’s, Jay being more of parent than their father ever was. Not that they’d ever let anyone else see that back then, including their father. The children of Jafar aren’t weak enough to need help and what not. “I will.” He nods, looking like he’s about to say something else, but another voice beats him to it.

“Right, what’s all this then?” She shakes her head, leaning further into his touch. “Nothing Harry just another debt.” It earns her a scoff, “You know, you don’t always have to be in debt to me. You don’t owe me for your life, my clothes however.” “You’re the one who was determined to keep me alive. That’s on you,” she laughs slightly, though it’s quickly cut off by a grimace. Water dripping from the torn edge of her pants leg finding the open wound on her leg. Jay shakes his head, "You still keep clothes at dads? I could go grab some for you. Those are just gonna irritate that cut, last thing you need is an infection." She shakes her head, "I haven't kept clothes at dads for nearly a year now. I don't visit anymore." "Dad?" Harry looks between them, eyeing them in confusion. He could see it though, they had similarities in their appearances, their attitudes too, though Harry had to admit that he found it much more attractive in her. "Yeah," she nods, giving him a soft look as if she worried he'd get mad about it. "You two are related?" She nods again, raising an eyebrow, "Yeah babe, we have the same dad."

"Babe? That's why you're here? I knew there had to be a reason that you were out here, on a dock and can't even swim. You shouldn't bring her out here like this, it's dangerous." "Yeah, I see that. I told her not to some." The pirate rolls his eyes, tugging her closer slightly. The two glare at each other for a second, the girl now rolling her own eyes. "I can take care of myself, Jay. I always have." He nods, backing down as he picks his sword back up, "Right, just don't go drowning. And clean that cut." "Don't go getting Kings kidnapped and fighting pirates," her tone is softer now. The siblings share a look for a moment, smiling slightly. "Take care of her." "I do." The boy starts to walk off, someone calling his name from behind them. "Jay!" He turns back. "Take care of yourself over there!" He nods, jogging off to join his own friends as Harry starts to drag her off of the docks. "I've got to tell you, knowing that you're Jafar's kid might be a deal breaker." She shoves his side slightly, earning herself a laugh. "Okay, says the son of Hook." "You knew that when you signed up, love." With that they went to get her cleaned up, Jay was right, she surely didn't need to get an infection.

[a-shameless-us]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119767

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

[mishervellous]

Can we see how Iggy reacts to Mickey going to prison and Ian doing what he does?

anon really looked at protective!Iggy 1 and protective!Iggy 2 and said this trilogy is ending in violence

sorry if this is angsty!! hope you like it though 💙

(cw: mentions of 6x01 lmao)

It’s weird that whenever he’s within the walls of a prison, Iggy feels at home.

The feeling goes both ways, of course: it feels like home both in, and out of the can. Making his way through the gates, and corridors people greet him, fist bump him; in prison, a Milkovich is the belle of the ball. 

Thick glass that has been there ever since Iggy can remember separates him from a still empty seat. It’s after a couple of minutes of fidgeting with the old receiver that they bring him in.

Iggy is taken aback. His brother is looking up towards his guard, scoffing, and it’s clear to Iggy that he’s giving them attitude even without being able to hear him. It gives Iggy time to school his expression back to a nonchalant one. When Mickey takes the receiver in his hand, Iggy brings his own to his ear.

“‘Sup Jimmy felon.” He smirks. Mickey rolls his eyes. “What do they serve in here these days, laxatives? You look like shit.”

Mickey flips him off. It’s even worse than Iggy has made it seem: Mickey looks scaringly thin, paler than the walls behind him, and with a droopy face like he hasn’t slept in weeks. Iggy can tell he’s trying his hardest to still keep a harsh front on, but his blue eyes give him away—they always do. Iggy wants to ask him if he’s crossed the wrong people while being here, if the goons running this place are giving the inmates hell for some reason. 

He doesn’t. Instead, when the silence keeps stretching on, Iggy drums his fingers on the shiny surface of the table. “You made any good deals? Some new connections?”

Mickey sniffs, scratching his nose. “Nah, man. Been laying low.”

Iggy nods. He doesn’t know the details of Mickey’s case, or the exact circumstances that led to his arrest. He just knows that his brother will spend the next eight years in this shithole, and that if he looks like this after only a couple of months, Iggy’s worried how he’ll end up next.

“Everything good?” Mickey asks.

“Yeah, same shitty neighborhood with the same shitty people.” And then, because he knows it must be on Mickey’s mind—why Mickey really asked—, he adds, “Haven’t seen Red in a while.”

Mickey’s demeanor changes at that. His grip on the receiver tightens, and his jaw clenches. The shift makes Iggy frown. 

Maybe he’s just sad ‘cause he doesn’t get to see him as often. So he presses on. 

“He come visit you yet?” 

A sardonic lift of his lips, a strong exhale from his nose. No eye contact. Mickey’s jaw clenches, and unclenches. He ignores Iggy’s question. “Stay out of trouble, dickhead. If I see you in here I’ll beat your ass.”

Iggy wants to ask, wants to know why he’s gotten so tense, and moody at the mere mention of Ian. If Ian’s the reason why he currently looks like a zombie. 

But Iggy just smirks, trying to keep the uncomfortable foreboding in his stomach at bay, and gets flipped off by his brother when he says, “Aight, mom. Do me a favor too—eat a fucking sandwich.”

***

Gallagher turns the corner to North Wallace at around midnight, and Iggy watches him saunter down the street with his hands in his pockets.

He takes one last drag of his smoke, flicking the butt into the Gallagher’s disheveled front yard, and approaching the only street light illuminating the block. The redhead looks fine—fit, with a nice color to his freckled face. It makes Iggy’s fists clench.

“Yo, Gallagher.” Iggy leans on the rusted fencing, crossing his arms. Gallagher stops dead in his tracks, and Iggy can see some tension building in his shoulders. “Long time no see.”

Gallagher just nods his chin his way, his lips drawn in a tight line. “Iggy.” He takes the steps of the porch two at a time, leaving Iggy to stand behind. 

“C’mon, let’s catch up. How’s life going?” There’s bitterness in the tone of his own voice, Iggy can hear it. Gallagher can too. So much so that he sighs before turning around, his green eyes cold as they stare from the top of the stairs.

“What do you want, Iggy?” 

“Honestly?” Iggy chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. He scratches his chin. “Beat your fucking ass, but I can’t. Turns out you have some powerful friends in the higher-ups.”

Gallagher shakes his head. He even has the gall to look angry. “Fuck you.”

“Is that what you do with motherfuckers that gave it all up for your sorry ass?” Gallagher looks away, moves his head like he’s been slapped. His face is hard. “Leave them in the dust? Do you have any fucking idea what Mickey would’ve done for you if it was you stuck in there for eight years?”

When Gallagher was the pale, thin one, with broken eyes, and no fight left in him, his brother was there for him. When there was no pieces left to pick up but dust, Mickey was right fucking there to treasure his cold ashes. 

How can Gallagher forget about what Mickey Milkovich did for him when even Iggy can’t?

Iggy watches the front door slam shut. There’s no time to dwell in the hatred he feels for this ungrateful sack of shit, not when there are pieces for him to pick up on the other side now.

***

I don’t care if you read this letter. I know you’re in contact with Mickey. you know where Mickey is. just get this to him. please.

Mickey

I’m so fucking sorry. I feel like I made the worst mistake of my life. you were right, you’re always right-I should’ve gotten in the fucking car. I miss you so fucking much. it hurts so bad cause I know you’re gone. you’re not here with me I’m not there with you. please let me know you’re okay. I’ll take a fuck you over one more week of silence any day. 

you’re the love of my life. I’m sorry it took so long for me to understand the things you were saying that day on the porch. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you help me. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you love me the way you wanted. I’d do anything to be with you right now, no matter the circumstances. I know we could beat the odds again.

I love you. I love you 

Ian

Mickey has a brilliant smirk on his face when he makes his way over to their table, two pints of beer in hands. He looks weird with a touch more color to his skin. “Looking good, gringo.” Iggy says with a smirk of his own. Mickey rolls his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up, pasty bitch.” 

Texas is treating Iggy good these days, better than Chicago ever could. He gets to spend his time in this hot fucking weather, with tan chicks everywhere, and cowboy boots deemed a socially acceptable footwear. 

And he gets to spend more time with Mickey. Since his brother crossed the border all those months ago they see each other pretty regularly, here at this seedy bar on the Mexican side of the frontier. They trade stories, shoot the shit. Mickey asks about Chicago whenever Iggy goes back to Illinois from time to time, and Iggy tells him about the cold, the shitty food, the same old, same old.

Iggy just got back from a trip to Chicago, and Mickey knows it. He’s fidgeting with the wooden coaster a little too much, something clearly on his mind. 

“You hear anything from Ian?”

Svetlana gave him that piece of paper just before Iggy left; told him that the redhead looked like shit, banging on her door at two in the morning, and to bring the letter to Mickey so Gallagher would stop bothering her, and waking her son up.

Good fucking riddance. 

Shifting in his seat, he feels the shards of paper crinkle in the pocket of his jeans. 

“Nah. But Svet says hi.”

If the disappointed look on Mickey’s face stings a little, it doesn’t matter. Iggy has seen his little brother scrape the bottom of the barrel time, and time again because of Ian Gallagher. He won’t let it happen again.

And he’s right: in the end, Mickey does relax—it just takes him a couple of beers to. 

It’s better this way. Iggy knows it’s better this way. 

[aka-ashi-keiji]

“i can’t hear you”

Bakugou Katsuki x best friend reader

soft angst

tw: screaming, emotional meltdown.

short fic about bakugou and you’re his childhood best friend, and you help him through dealing with his hearing loss. enjoy lovies.

*******************************************************

You woke up to the sound of your mother knocking on your door and yelling, “y/n wake up, you have training today with katsuki. i love that boy but i am not in the mood to deal with his explosive attitude over you being late .” You lived right next door to katsuki all your life and since your moms were best friends, you guys were best friends since you learned how to walk. Every saturday you guys would train from 8 AM to noon in his garage since it was basically a mini gym, and then after you both would head over to your house. You checked the time on your phone on the bedside table and it read 7:50. “SHIT MOM WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER” you yelled as you jumped out of bed and quickly found a black tank top and grey sweatpants to train in. You could hear your mom chuckling as she walked away from your door. You grabbed your headphones, phone, water bottle, and Nike’s before yelling a goodbye and dashing over to Katsuki’s front yard. 

You knocked on his door four times so that his family knew it was you. You were halfway through slipping your shoes on when Mitsuki answered. She yawned and pulled you into a side hug. “Good morning y/n, you hungry?” She asked as she closed the door behind you guys and started towards the kitchen. “No thanks Mitsuki, I don’t like to train on a full stomach. My mom is making a huge lunch though, you guys are welcome to join us.” You said cheerfully, but kept your voice low since it was very early and you could tell Katsuki’s mom was still half asleep. She nodded and then whipped her head to face you wearing a look on her face as if she had just remembered something very important. “Kat has been very on edge lately and not very responsive this week.” She paused before starting again and turned her gaze to the floor, almost as if she didn’t want to talk. “I think it might have to do with his hearing. He won’t admit it, but I think his quirk is finally starting to affect him. Good thing we put him in those sign language classes as a precaution.” she laughed dryly and then turned back to look at you. “Just, take it easy him with the teasing today okay? and maybe try speaking a little louder. I’ll go see if he’s ready” and with that she gathered herself up the stairs and disappeared. 

You thought silently as you waited, and all of a sudden it made sense. Lately at school bakugou has been yelling more than usual, and telling everyone to speak louder. Maybe he was yelling more to be able to hear himself? You didn’t know. Bakugou has been learning sign language since he was 7 years old as a precaution for this and has been regularly signing while he talks since he was 10. So, bakugou using his sign language all the time wasn’t uncommon, but maybe Mitsuki was right. You made a mental note not to say anything until you actually noticed a big change in your guys’ training. You waited patiently for about another 10 minutes before Katsuki finally came downstairs. 

“Hey idiot, nice outfit.” Katsuki greeted you in his groggy morning voice, his hands signing his words lazily. You looked down at the tank top and sweatpants you were wearing and looked back to him, you both were wearing the same exact thing. “Morning pom pom” you greeted back as you gathered your things and started to head towards the garage. You turned around to see bakugou staring into nothing, so you called out. “Hey kat, you coming?” No response. You repeated yourself, but this time loud enough you were sure you woke his dad. He whipped his head towards you and nodded before following along. As you were walking down the hall, you turned to him and asked, “You okay?” while signing your words. Katsuki looked down at your hands and his cheeks started to dust with the lightest shade of pink. He huffed and his red eyes sparked as he just growled out a ‘yeah’ and walked ahead of you into the garage, starting to set up for your session. You yourself had picked up sign language at a young age because your dad was deaf because his quirk was being able to shoot sonic booms from his hands. you pressed the button to open the garage door and let some light in. You then walked over to the speakers and plugged your phone in as you hit play on your playlist specifically for training days. Bakugou stopped setting up the bench press station and yelled, “Can you turn it up? “ as he signed quickly, but then went back to putting the weights together. You turned back to the speaker only to be surprised since the volume was already almost at max capacity. You shook your head and turned the volume all the way up. This session should be interesting. 

It was around 9:30 AM at this point and you and Kat had finished weights and went on a 2 mile run. You were currently sitting on the floor stretching your quads as the loud techno music boomed around you. You glanced over at katsuki who was stretching on the other side of the garage and he seemed to be in a whole other universe. You called out to him, but he didn’t do so much as flinch. You picked yourself up off the floor and slowly walked towards him. You called a few more times and still got nothing from him, so you decided to turn off the music. As soon as you did Katsuki’s head shot up and his eyes darted towards you. “What the hell was that for dipshit? We’re gonna start sparring soon, we need it.” He said/yelled at you while you sauntered over to him and took a seat about a foot away from his now steaming body. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your arm before talking to katsuki, well you didn’t exactly talk with your voice, you were mostly signing. “Katsuki are you sure you’re okay? You’re not responding when I call out for you.” You waited for his response as his eyes stayed on your hands that were once moving. This time he answered, but for some reason he didn’t sign. “If I tell you, you can’t tell a single soul you hear me dumbass? Not even my parents. “ You nodded your head and gently reach over to squeeze his hand four times, your guys’ way of saying I promise. He then began to talk, and signed very aggressively as he did so, and what he said was enough to shatter you into a million pieces. 

 “I’ve been struggling in a way lately,” he started, “I tried to cover it up by just yelling all the time hoping people would just think it was my normal behavior. But, really it was so i could he hear myself.” Katsuki let out a long breath and you could see his hands slightly shaking. “It started out last week as just a slight ringing, but it got louder every damn day. But, this week the ringing got quieter, and eventually everything around me started to sound like I was underwater. “ He looked up at you and your breath hitched, tears rolled down katsuki’s face as he held eye contact. He shook out his hands and took another shakey breath before he began, “I- I can barely hear you y/n! And its so frusturating.” the volume of his voice was rising, and you could see the pain he was feeling through his eyes and the tears that were now dripping down to his shirt. “I can’t hear your fucking voice damnit! It’s the only one that doesn’t drive me up fucking walls.  it terrifies me!” He was screaming at this point as his hands worked through the air to express his words. The tears came at a much quicker pace once he had stopped to breathe, and those tear turned into sobs as he curled in on himself. He tucked his knees to his chest and ducked his head into his arms as they wrapped around his legs. His shoulders and back shook as he cried, and for a moment you didn’t know what to do. You haven’t seen Katsuki cry since you both were 8 years old and he was playing with his quirk and accidently blasted your arm. He started crying as soon as he heard you wail in pain, and the lecture from his mother didn’t help in the slightest. You subconsciously reached up to rest your hand on the scar as you tried to think of what you could say to him.

 Katsuki leveled his head and looked up at you, and slowly reached his hand out, still crying quietly. For a second you didn’t know what he meant, but it soon clicked in your head and you took his hand in yours. you looked at him with teary eyes and signed, “How can i help?” He untucked his legs from his chest and moved closer to you. Then, before you could even register what was happening, Katsuki had his arms around your waist with his head on your shoulder. You froze, it had been quite some time since either of you had needed a hug like this. once your shock had subsided, you brought your hands to rest on his upper back and rubbed soothingly. He began to cry again, which then led to sobs just like they had before. You began to talk, whispering variations of ‘I’m here’ and ‘You don’t have to be scared’, only to remember that he probably can’t hear you. Seeing katsuki as vulnerable as this broke your heart, and single tear fell from your face. Katsuki could feel your jaw muscles moving against the side of his face, so he knew you were talking, but he couldn’t hear you. “I- i- i- I can’t hear! I can’t hear you! Y/n I can’t hear you, fix it please, please I hate this so much!” He screamed into your shoulder which luckily muffled it enough to not draw any attention from the neighbors. He gripped onto your waist tighter as he breathed long and hard breaths. “I’m so scared. I’m terrified of losing you.” He whispered. This had confused you so you gently placed your hands on his shoulders and put a bit of distance between you guys so he could see you signing. “What do you mean you’re gonna lose me? I’m not going anywhere.” You said and waited for his response. He brought his trembling hands up to start signing and began, “I’m scared that if i can’t hear you, I won’t hear you calling me for help when you’re in danger. What kind of hero am I if i can’t even save my best friend?” You took one of his hands in yours and began to sign with your other. “You’re gonna be okay, We’re both gonna get you through this. I know you, and you don’t take shit from no one. And I know damn well you’re not gonna let a little hearing loss get in the way of beating deku.” He laughed slightly at the last statement, and seeing his small smile was like the world coming off of your shoulders. “We’ll take you to the doctor, they’ll help you.” He shook his head at that and his angry glowering returned. “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. And I’m sure your parents would do anything to help you become the hero you want to be.” You finished your monologue and squeezed his hand four times, promising him you’re not going anywhere. He smiled down at his hand and then brought his other one up to sign, “I love you shithead” and you signed back, “Yeah I know, I love you too Kat”.

 He began to stand up and Katsuki pulled you up with him.  He immediately pulled you into the tightest bear hug possible. No one knew, but Katsuki was the biggest hugger, and it was your favorite thing about him. You released your arms from his waist and he released his hold around your shoulders. You took the sides on his face in your hands, and pointed to your lips as a signal to read your words. He nodded his head, and in a volume Katsuki couldn’t hear, you said, “I can hear you, I can hear you.”. He nodded and smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen out of him in years. “You ready?” he signed, and you answered “for what?”. He smirked and was quiet for a few seconds before shoving you to the side a little and running off towards your house. “Race you!” he yelled, “First one there, is your mom’s favorite you loser.” Kat called again. You smiled and shook your head as you sprinted off after him, remembering this is the Katsuki that will be the #1 hero someday. 

***************************************🌸

[hugmetightlyx]

here to leave a request as previously discussed 😁🤞

lip gallagher letting reader swatch makeup on his hand at the mall :D

Posted July 16th, 2021

we did discuss this yes 

I actually decided to make this my first headcanon :)

Lip Gallagher x GN!reader (later seasons because I don’t think early seasons lip would admit to enjoying it)

Masterlist

Taking Lip Gallagher to the mall because you want more makeup to play with would include...

so. much. complaining.

“you know this is the rich people mall right?”

“Yes Lip, I am aware,”

Anyone who looks at you two for too long and you’d have to hold him back from going full southside.

“Did you see the way that asshole was fucking looking at you?”

FINALLY, you’ve made your way to the Sephora.

“you ever try blue lipstick? who uses blue lipstick on a day-to-day basis?”

“People who like blue lipstick, L,”

You’re still working on the whole judgment thing

That’s when you begin swatching colors on your hands.

like ALL over your hands.

“christ, y/n/n, got enough eyeshadow on your hands?”

then this beautiful glimmering green caught your eye.

“Lip, let me see your hand,” 

Of course, while not paying attention to your intentions he gave you his hand while he looked at some of the eyeshadow palettes surrounding you both.

“What the fuck-”

He stopped when he noticed you were absolutely mesmerized by the color you had put on the back of his hand.

Lip had to admit, it was a pretty color.

That’s how it started.

After this one trip to the mall, you never had to swatch color on yourself again.

“you should try this one, baby,”

“This color would look amazing on your eyes, y/n/n”

Constantly encouraging you to use him as your personal swatch pad.

It’s almost as if Lip likes it

“Almost feels like you’re starting to like this, Gallagher,”

“Pft, the fuck do you mean? I’m just speeding up the process”

But you could see right through the blue-eyed man.

Nonetheless, you always gave in even if you knew he wouldn’t admit to liking it.

He seemed to be comforted by it and god knows this boy needs all the comfort he can get.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

That ‘Redhead Babyface/FUCK U-UP’ Duality [Chapter 9: Curtis]

Pairing: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich Rating: Explicit Chapters: [ 9/? ] Word-count: 15,000 lol whoops Additional Tags: cranky loner mickey, up-and-coming porn star ian, lots and lots of bickering, romantic slow burn, recreational drug use, mild gun violence, ian plays older dudes for cash (non-sexual) (non-descriptive), past drug abuse, past predatory behavior Summary: The absolute last thing Mickey expects when he goes to the bar is to get badgered into doing softcore porn, but the money sounds good. And this redhead won’t leave him the fuck alone until he agrees. And maybe partnering up with him for a couple POV shots wouldn’t be the worst thing on the planet.

Mickey’s smart enough to recognize a slippery slope when he wants to. But he’s gotta want to. And tonight the slippery slope is wearing body glitter and short-shorts.

[ read it on archive of our own ]

[psychicskulldamage]

Art Tags

✦My Art // Non Fanart // Comics // Trans Art // Meme Art

✦Censored // Spicy (filter these if you don't want to see 🔞 content)

✦Shameless // Gallavich // Mickey Milkovich // Ian Gallagher

✦Batman // Gotham // Bruce Wayne // Jerome Valeska

✦Jedi Fallen Order //

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Kinktober 2021 // Shameless Big Bang // My Tentacle Alien Soulmate Can’t Be This Hot! (Fic Collab)

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✦Mini Comics

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[y0itsbri]

brainiac maniac

a mickey x lip highschool math rivals to lovers au for @grumpymickmilk

bonus! mickey x karen friendship <33

words: 1.8k

on ao3 here!

mickey sank lower into his seat as his teacher was passing back their most recent tests. he sniffed his nose and shrugged.

98%

lip would have his ass. that asshole never shuts the fuck up.

"hey mick, didn't study hard enough this time?" "kiss ass." "well, actually..."

actually, lip could take his T-84 whatever-the-fuck calculator and shove it up his --

"mikhailo," his teacher's voice startled him from his daze. "why don't you share what you got for number three?"

fuck, he hadn't even looked at the new worksheet yet.

mickey glared a few desks over at the menace that was lip gallagher, silently cursing him because somehow this had to be his fault.

mickey eyed the problem, cleared his throat, and rattled off an answer from the top of his head. his teacher looked unimpressed, but what else was new?

as expected, lip scoffed from across the room. mickey loathed the way that he rolled his eyes. cocky fucker.

"got something to say, philip?" mickey hissed, quiet enough that their teacher didn't hear, but he attracted the attention of a few students.

"nothing at all." he twiddled his pencil in his fingers.

"right. as if you could keep your trap shut for more than a minute anyways."

"thought that's why you like me, mick." lip honest to god winked.

asshole.

"you can fuck right off with--"

"lip, could you answer number five for us?"

"anything for you ms. b."

mickey rolled his eyes. suck up.

his heart was thrumming. in anger? probably. whatever. fuck that scrawny math nerd.

-

the following week, the teacher announced that people would have to partner up for the next assignment. mickey heard the faint cheer of his classmates, but he just rolled his eyes. he knew that they would all scramble to be all buddy-buddy with him as if they hadn't been actively avoiding him all year and he would just be stuck doing all the work.

sure enough, karen turned around in her seat, smacking her bubblegum loudly and twirling her hair like she was a goddamn cartoon character.

she was gorgeous, he'd give her that, but her charms were lost on him. and to make matters worse, she fucking knew it.

"so, mickey, partners?"

"yeah, right, so you can just sit there and paint your nails looking pretty while i end up doin' fuckin' everything."

karen gripped his arm with her too-soft hands, "it's like you can read my mind!"

"fuck off, little bo peep." he smirked as she stayed put.

lip loathed mickey and karen’s friendship and it was equally amusing to them both. sure enough, lip stormed over to them with murder in his eyes. dramatic bitch.

"fucking really karen?!"

"what?" she batted her eyes innocently and mickey coughed to suppress his laughter. he wasn't successful.

lip just glared at him before sitting his ass on top of mickey's desk, his foot balancing on the railing next to mickey.

pretentious asshole.

mickey fought the urge to untie his shoelaces, or better yet, push him off the side. instead, he just stared straight ahead at karen like lip wasn't even there.

"so, number 1, kare-bear?"

"i can't fucking believe you too." lip slid off the desk and kicked mickey's backpack on his way down.

"ayo karen, i think your boyfriend's on his period or something."

"he's not my boyfriend."

mickey's eyebrows flew up his forehead, "yeah, does asshole know that?"

she shrugged and pulled out two nail polishes from her bag.

"pink or blue?"

mickey eyed the two carefully.

"come on, mickey. it's not rocket science."

"yeah, rocket science would be a lot easier."

she glared and it was honestly pretty funny.

"blue."

she chose pink. first painting her own nails while mickey worked through their assignment. then she grabbed mickey's left hand. he knew what was coming. he has been here before.

she painted his middle finger with two coats and blew on it before he could smudge it.

mickey scrunched up his nose. "you breath smells like doritos, bitch."

"yeah, you want some?" she made kissy noises towards him and he swatted her away with his non-painted hand.

"gross. girl cooties."

-

lip showed up late to class, begrudgingly taking the only open seat next to mickey.

"hey, milkovich, you goin' full woman now?" he nodded towards mickey's hand which was scratching something profane into the desk.

mickey flipped him off with his pink-painted fingernail. "it's one finger, philip. if that's all it takes to become a woman, you've got some fuckin' low standards."

"mmm, you know i don't discriminate."

"probably lucky to get whoever will kiss your frog face. probably disappointed when you don't turn into prince charming or some shit."

"mickey milkovich, king of pink nails and princesses. i'm totally holding this against you."

"like hell you are." he took a sip from his energy drink knowing damn well lip wasn't going to do shit. he was all talk no action. maybe he needed to get some action.

he turned his attention back to whatever the fuck ms. b was writing on the board. something something partner take-home exam. he scanned the class to already find everyone partnered up. he must've missed that shit while he was teasing lip. which leaves...

lip gave him a smug wave, clearly coming to the conclusion much quicker than mickey.

great. mickey was the one stuck with the frog faced motherfucker.

ms. b handed our their exams, stopping to eye mickey and lip, sitting in irritable silence. she laughed, "damn, never thought i'd see the day."

mickey pouted at his sour luck.

-

lip had agreed to meet mickey in the milkovich basement later that night to work on their exam. at first, lip was a bit hesitant, which like -- fair -- because the milkoviches were known for their not-so-subtle criminal activities, torture techniques included. but mickey had cleared out most of that shit when terry kicked the bucket anyways.

mickey was pacing the kitchen when he heard a heavy knock on the door. feds. no, just philip.

sure enough, he opened the door to find lip hunched off and blowing some heat onto his fingertips, his fingerless gloves serving little to no purpose.

"goddamn, philip. you knock like the pigs."

"strong hands."

"weirdo." he stepped back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to grab something to drink, "wanna bang?"

lip nearly choked. "what kinda lady do you take me for? at least buy me dinner first."

fuck.

"i meant the fuckin' energy drink and you know it, asshole."

lip laughed as a blush washed over mickey's face. this was the worst scenario he could imagine. literal nightmare fuel. and yet he was standing its reality.

after what felt like an eternity, lip broke the silence, taking fucking pity on him.

"yeah, mick, i want a bang."

"cotton candy cool?"

"uh, yeah."

he didn't have a choice anyways. that's all he had.

they made their way down the creaky stairs into the darkness. and yeah, at first glance, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie. but after mickey shimmied the plug into the outlet, the room came to life.

he had a big beige couch in the corner, a makeshift coffee table made out of a crate, a big ass terrarium on the floor, and unique lamp fixtures scattered around the room. the walls were covered floor to ceiling with various posters and drawings.

mickey blushed, a bit embarrassed. as he watched lip take it all in for the first time, he forgot that this was him. and it would lowkey hurt it lip made fun of his space.

"cool shit." lip shrugged his backpack off. "kinda reminds me of my room."

and that was the last thing mickey expected to hear.

a bit frozen still, mickey watched as lip crouched down by the terrarium.

"what's in here?"

"speedy."

"speedy?"

"turtle."

lip tapped the glass.

"he don't like that."

"hmm? he doesn't? did he tell you personally?"

"asshole. and what if he did?"

lip raised his hands in surrender.

"mikhailo milkovich, protector of turtles. got it."

mickey smirked. "you just gonna stand here like an oaf all day or are ya gonna help me with this exam?"

"so you need help?" lip quipped.

"i don't, but it would go a lot smoother if you did, smart guy."

"and what if i didn't?"

mickey leaned in real close and whispered in his ear. "this basement is soundproof."

lip eyed the corners of the room and shook his head in disbelief.

"big talk for a little man. ya know, mick, lying isn't a good look on you."

he looked weak as hell in the dim lights of the basement. mickey tested his limits. he gently shoved lip's shoulders down so he fell to his knees in front of him, a devilish smirk on his face taunting mickey all-the-while.

"i ain't lying."

mickey turned away from a breathless lip and plopped himself cross-legged on the couch. he clicked around on his phone for a moment connecting his spotify to the basement speakers.

"you gonna sit there all day looking pretty or ya wanna make yourself useful?"

lip picked himself up off the floor with the grace of a better man than mickey was. he sat a little too close and took a sip from mickey's bang.

"make yourself at home." mickey murmured sarcastically, but lip didn’t get the whole sarcasm memo.

lip lit up his cigarette and raised his eyebrow in a gesture of 'what are you gonna do about it?'

mickey let him have it for a moment before plucking it straight from his lips.

"thanks, man."

"fucker."

"you know it."

mickey and lip had a good system working out for them surprisingly. one person took their turn with the cig or fucking around on their phone while the other worked on a math problem.

eventually, lip stilled. he was stuck.

"got a problem?" mickey raised an eyebrow and blew a lungful of smoke up in the air.

"this one is ridiculously hard. i swear this wasn't in the fuckin' textbook." lip's hair was mussed from where he was anxiously messing with it and his face was red with frustration. mickey hated to admit that that was really doing it for him.

fuck it.

"that ain't the only thing getting hard," his tongue swiped the corner of his mouth.

lip looked over to him in confusion before looking at his lap. mickey widened his stance on the couch, giving lip a better angle.

mickey tilted his head in a show of 'what're you gonna do about it?'

lip had apparently had enough math for the day because he knocked the whole fucking crate over as he made his way to knees for the second time that night.

mickey picked at his golden curls and frowned. "gross."

"one of these days i'm gonna shut you the hell up, milkovich."

"better get to work, then, einstein." mickey lifted his hips while lip tugged down his jeans.

turned out that mickey’s boner for math was a boner for something — someone — else.

[rodr1cks]

Sick Day | 2.1k

fluff!! you’re sick and rodrick comes to the rescue.

warnings: vomit, being sick in general

All day you had been feeling extremely ill. The nurse at school was being impossible and refused to send you home, despite your pleas.

“Please Mrs. Williams, I feel terrible you have to believe me!”

She was extremely skeptical, “Child, do you know how many times I hear that in a day? You don’t have a fever, back to class.”

And just like that, you were dismissed. Sent to endure the rest of your classes in misery.

The day went by painfully slow after your trip to the nurse. The fluorescent lights berated your pupils making it impossible to concentrate and worsening your headache.

It was sixth period, the last class of the day. Also your least favorite class of the day. You couldn’t stand the teacher. Mr. Wright. He was your classic asshole history teacher.

You were completely zoned out, trying to focus on not vomiting. Your name being called pulled you out of your haze.

“Miss y/l/n? Do you care to answer me? Unless you’re busy of course.”

Condescending bastard.

You held your tongue, swallowing any smart-ass comments that threatened to spill past your lips. You cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry, what was the question.”

He went through the whole “this is a learning environment” lecture after that. Again, you didn’t listen. You couldn’t have even if you wanted to. Thankfully, he left you alone after that.

Finally, the last bell of the day sounded through the school. You lept from your seat and ran to the bathroom. You practically body slammed the door open. Luckily, the bathroom was empty, most kids having already filed out of the main doors, eager to begin their weekend festivities.

You were hunched over one of the white porcelain bowl, tears filling your eyes.

Today could not get any worse.

After taking a few deep breaths, you were able to compose yourself enough to exit the bathroom.

You crossed your fingers, hoping that the halls had been completely evacuated.

You crept through the empty corridors and out into the parking lot. You were especially dreading the walk home today.

You were walking through the parking lot, enjoying the fresh air when you saw him. Rodrick Heffley.

The two of you were best friends in elementary school but you drifted apart after a while. You honestly developed a certain distaste for him, as he had you.

Please don’t notice me, please don’t-

“Y/n!”

Shit.

“Rodrick!” you feigned enthusiasm.

His brow furrowed, “You look… paler than usual?” You rolled your eyes, classic Rodrick. You wanted this interaction to end, immediately. “Yup. Not feeling well.” You deadpanned, providing little detail.

Rodrick hesitated for a moment, “Well, let me drive you home, kid.”

Kid. Who did he think he was?

“I think I’ll pass, weather is nice today.” The weather was far from nice.

“Oh really, the weather is nice, y/n? Where are you right now? Because it’s raining where I am.”

He sighed, “and I also saw that little performance Mr. Wright gave you...”

Oh so he pities me.

“Rodrick, If I get in your van will you stop talking?”

He motioned, pretending to zip his lips up and throw away the key. A small smile spread across your face but you didn’t let him see that.

A few minutes into the drive, you decided you were glad you let him take you home. The sky had opened up and it was storming.

Oh God.

“Rodrick, pull over, now.”

He looked over at you and could tell what was about to happen. He pulled over quickly and you opened the door. You leaned over and vomited right onto the grass patch parallel to the road, in the pouring rain.

Coyly, you returned to your seat in the van. You were unsure if you should apologize, so you stayed silent.

“Y/n, are your parents home?”

He knew they never were. Ever since you were a kid, your parents had been anywhere but home. Business trips, vacations, retreats, you name it.

You looked down at your shoes, water dripping from your hair, and shook your head.

“Alrighty then, change of plans.”

You protested, “Rodrick that’s really not necessary I’ll be fine.” Part of you knew there was no point in arguing. If he was one thing, it was stubborn.

He reached out, placing the back of his hand on your forehead to prove a point, “Y/n, you’re burning up. You’re coming with me.”

You were closer to his house anyways. That’s how you justified it, at least.

His van pulled into The Heffley’s driveway. Rodrick got out and rushed around the vehicle to open your door.

“Come along, y/n. I know somebody who will be very happy to see you,” he grinned.

The front door swung open and you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. The Heffley’s house was always warm and always smelled spectacular. Somehow, Mrs. Heffley was always baking or cooking something.

“Y/n? What a nice surprise this is!” Mrs. Heffley beamed. She had always loved you. “How I’ve missed seeing your face around here!” She said, placing her hands on your checks.

“You’re soaking wet!” You nodded awkwardly in response. “And goodness, you’re burning up! Are you feeling alright?” She felt your forehead and cheeks, then squeezed your shoulders gently.

From a young age, Mrs. Heffley had looked after you as one of her own. Nothing had changed it seemed.

“No, actually,” you smiled half-heartedly. Mrs. Heffley frowned at you. “Rodrick, get her some dry clothes, would you?.” Rodrick nodded, leading you up the stairs.

You stood in his room, obviously uncomfortable. He was knelt in front of his dresser, digging around for something.

“Ah! Here it is.”

Rodrick whipped out a t-shirt for you to change into. He grabbed a pair of black sweats from another drawer as well.

“Here you are, mademoiselle.” He stuck out the wad of clothing in your direction. You couldn’t lie, you were happy to have some dry clothes to change into.

You stepped into his bathroom, taking a moment to examine your appearance. You looked rough. Intense bags hung low under your eyes and you truly did look more pale than usual. Fantastic.

You emerged from the bathroom, Rodrick’s clothing drooping slightly from your frame. Rodrick was sitting on the end of his bed and he patted the surface.

You joined him on his twin mattress, only because you were exhausted.

“Rodrick, why are you being nice to me?”

He looked guilty. “You’ve had a rough day, y/n…”

He sucked in a breath, “...and y’know I’ll always care about you.”

How could he still care for you? You completely wrote him off when high school began.

“Listen, y/n, the past is in the past, okay?”

A genuine smile appeared on your face. Before the moment could become too sentimental, Rodrick interjected.

“Oh! Be right back,” he chirped.

He ran downstairs and came back with an orange soda and some cold & flu medicine.

Rodrick explained himself, “Orange! Like, vitamin C, right?” He looked too happy with himself, you couldn’t bring him down. At least his heart was in the right place.

Concealing your laughter to the best of your ability, you accepted the beverage and medicine from his hand.

You hated this kind of medicine with your whole heart. The orange soda could be useful honestly, just not for its nutritional value like Rodrick intended.

Rodrick measured out the appropriate amount of the medicine for you as you cracked open the can. He handed you the small cup full of the thick, red liquid.

You threw back the grotesque cherry flavored solution, grimacing as it coated your throat. You chased the medicine with the orange soda. See, it did come in handy.

You leaned back into Rodrick’s pillows, trying to relax.

About fifteen minutes later you felt extremely drowsy. “Rodrick, can I see that bottle?”

“Uh, sure,” he said, confused.

You read the bottle and instantly threw your head back in annoyance. “Rodrick this is the drowsy kind!” You continued inspecting the bottle, “and it’s extra strength!”

With each second passing, it got increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open.

Everything was blurry and you were teetering between consciousness and sleep.

“Rodrick,” you slurred. “I’m so sorry I stopped talking to you… stopped being your friend. Felt like I wasn’t cool or pretty enough… didn’t deserve you.”

Rodrick was extremely confused. You thought you were too good for him? He had to hold back a laugh.

He couldn’t conceal his smile, “Excuse me? Y/n, that must be the nyquil talking.” He rolled his eyes and brushed off your comment, contemplating the sentiment for a mere moment.

You eventually drifted off, unable to ward off sleep any longer.

When you woke up, you first noticed rodrick. He was sitting on his beaten up couch with his headphones covering his ears. You could hear the muffled baseline from your spot across the room.

How are his eardrums still intact?

Rodrick had a shoebox on his lap and he was shuffling through the contents, smiling to himself.

You cleared your throat, obtaining his attention.

“Oh, y/n! You’re up!” He smiled at you, ripping off his headphones.

You nodded slowly, knuckling your eyes sleepily.

“What time is it?”

Rodrick glanced at his watch, “It’s only 8:30.” You nodded again, continuing to rub the sleep from your eyes.

Rodrick stood, picking up the box and walking over to you. “Look,” he said softly. You peered down into the small shoebox and numerous photos and letters.

“This one here is my favorite,” he said quietly. It was a picture of you and Rodrick at the roller rink. You recognized the photo immediately.

“Seventh grade kick off,” you smiled. You took the box from his lap and began looking through each photo, braided friendship bracelet, concert ticket.

You laughed as each item brought back memories you had long forgotten.

You stopped at a photo of the two of you dressed up in ridiculous outfits. You wore a sequined hat and Rodrick held his drumsticks in hand.

“Was this when we saw Good Charlotte?” You asked.

He giggled, “It sure was. I remember thinking I looked so hot that night. Guess not huh.”

“What are you talking about, you looked incredible Rodrick. Seventh grade me was dying to jump you right then and there.”

His face lit up, “Really?”

“No,” you flashed him an expressionless look before breaking out into side-splitting laughter. He joined you.

You missed this feeling of pure, unadulterated joy. Rodrick was the only person who you had truly experienced that with.

You sighed to yourself. Come tomorrow, you’d be back to strangers. Tears welled up in your eyes and your lip quivered. Rodrick was oblivious until a single tear drop fell onto the photograph below you.

He immediately tried to comfort you. He placed an arm around your shoulder, dragging you into his larger frame. It caught you off guard but you allowed yourself to melt into his touch.

Rodrick distracted you from your sorrow. “Look at this one right here.” It was a photo of you and the Heffley Family in their backyard. You and Rodrick were around fifteen, if you remembered correctly.

“This was the day that I realized I had a big, fat crush on you.”

He followed up, “S’lame I know…”

Heat flooded your cheeks, this time the heat was not a result of your illness. Was it anxiety? Happiness? Both? You couldn’t decide.

“You never really explained why you stopped talking to me and coming by my house.”

You shrugged at him, feeling like your explanation would make him mad. “Well, Rodrick, you started getting new friends. Friends that were better than me or cooler than me.”

“Y/n that is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I could never replace you. To this day, nobody’s ever come close.”

He gave you a playful smack over the head.

“...anyways, to be honest that crush never really went away?”

Before you had time to process the sentence he was gently grabbing your chin, turning your head.

You were facing him now, your lips only inches away from his.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Y-yeah, yes, I think so, yeah.”

He laughed at you and leaned in slowly. Rodrick used one finger to gently move your hair out of your face.

The kiss was gentle and filled with emotion.

You felt like you hadn’t known what you were missing out on until that moment. You felt completed.

“Oh shit, I better not get sick!”

[alotmorefanfiction]

Rodrick Heffley; Conditionally Yours.

Rodrick x (Y/N), a fake relationship prompt.

You and Rodrick have been friends for god knows how long.

You two essentially see one another as just friends, completely and utterly.

Freshman year of uni comes around for both of you

Rodrick decides on Music Theory, you decide on (your major).

He notices you're going to class with a girl who you find insufferable.

"Who's she?" Rodrick asks. You roll your eyes. "Eliana. She's on her way to being valedictorian."

He is absolutely in love with her, and you don't really see why, especially with the rumors that she only goes after guys in relationships.

He keeps talking about how beautiful she is, how she's just his type, how he can't get her out of his head, etc.

"You don't even have a girlfriend, she's not gonna notice you."

Suddenly, he hatches an idea. "Y/N! Don't you see? You and I can /pretend/ we're dating, and then I'll be irresistible!"

You reject the idea, but after seeing just how happy he gets when he talks about her, you give in.

"You owe me after this."

"Y/N, you are an angel. I promise it'll just be until she notices me!"

From then on, you two are known as a couple.

Lots of hand holding around campus, awkward romantic banter when in public, you talking loudly about your 'boyfriend' when Eliana is nearby.

She takes notice and starts asking more about him.

"So, like, what kind of music does your boyfriend play?" You feel gross hearing him be called that. "Punk, mostly. Some rock. It's all really underground--"

She cuts you off. "How long have you been together?"

"Two years." She seems even happier at this, and she talks you into getting tickets to a Löded Diper show.

Rodrick is incredibly happy, thanking you over and over, though you feel hurt now. You've shown up to every show, whether it was empty or packed.

The two of you plot it out, planning the exact songs with the band.

Lots of hand holding, snuggling together, even in private now.

Rodrick plays with your hair, stroking it softly and braiding it, something he had never really done before.

You invite him over to your dorm one night and drink together, and Rodrick tells you about how thankful he is for you, and how great of a friend you are.

He also mentions how you're always in his mind because he cares about you so much.

"We should probably kiss so it's not weird if we have to later." He is very drunk, but so are you, and you agree.

Very sloppy make out session, wrapped in one another's arms as you slowly fall asleep, giggling between tiny kisses.

Night of the show, you watch with drink in hand, acting as a supportive girlfriend off stage.

Rodrick notices Eliana in the crowd.

"Kiss me, Y/N." He whispers desperately. "This is the time to really sell it!"

You look out and see her, jealousy coursing through you, before you take his face in both your hands and kiss him as passionately as you can.

He tastes like the minty menthol cigarettes he had been sucking down to the butt all week.

Pulling away, you watch him play from backstage. It's fun. They've gotten better since high school.

Rodrick looks to you every couple of songs, smiling at you. It's to really sell it to Eliana, you assume.

Final song ends, and Rodrick steps down from the crowd and into the arms of Eliana.

You fight back tears and turn around, heading towards your car. The condition had been fulfilled.

"Wait! Y/N!" Rodrick is running after you and catches up to you, pulling you into another kiss.

This one is way more passionate. You kiss back, confused but willing.

"I don't... I don't want anyone if they're not you." He smiles, running his hand along your cheek. "I love you."

You break down and hold him tightly, crying into his shoulder.

"I love you too. I love you so much."

[hooman4ever]

Hello! 🙃

Can I request HCs of the slashers seeing their s/o with a ring on their ring finger after a while of them dating? Pref Mikey and Brahmsy 🥰

I hope this is what you meant by it and I hope you enjoy it! Tysm for the req.

Contains: Jealous Brahms, Mentions of murder, Gender Ambiguous Reader

Michael Myers

At first, he wouldn’t notice it. 

Would most likely take note of the ring when the both of you are cuddling and he’s just absentmindedly toying with your fingers. One second he’d be focusing on the way your palm felt in his hand and– oh shiny. 

Michael would twist it around your finger toying with it before asking what it was for. 

He won’t go out of his way to find matching rings but if he sees a victim with a similar one it’s his now.

 Call him out on the ring on his finger now, and it’s immediately gone. 

While Michael isn’t much of a fan of jewelry or accessories beyond his mask on himself he will feel a small joy in seeing your somewhat matching rings. 

(Sorry just imagining Loomis running into Michael in his weird overly obsessed doctor way and noticing the ring– the man just going off and berating Michael on it, totally forgetting how Michael was literally trying to kill people.)

Michael wouldn’t think of anything special about the ring being on the ring finger but will sort of interpret your matching rings as proof that you were each others. Sort of like a promise ring. 

You and Michael were curled into each other– while your eyes were focused on the movie running on the TV Michael was preoccupied with your hand which was held in his own much larger ones. He was tracing patterns into your palm when he noticed the ring nestled on your ring finger. 

He tilted his head– fingers wrapping around the metal band before twisting it admiring the way it glimmered in the light. 

Brahms Heelshire

Notices it immediately. As soon as that ring is on your ring finger he is beside you. 

“What's that?” “Where’s mine?” “Are you engaged to another?!” dramatic Brahms ensues. 

Please for the love of god get this man a matching one– if you don’t yours just might go missing in the middle of the night. Doesn't matter if you move the ring to another finger as soon as it touched your ring finger Brahms took it as a threat. 

Just imagine Brahms glaring at the ring from afar and threatening it under his breath.

If/when you get him a matching ring he is over the moon his mood doing a whole 180 suddenly very supportive and loving when it comes to your ring and if you take it off them you have a whole new problem. 

Doesn't matter if you gave it to him with the intent to propose or not. He is calling you his husband/wife/spouse as soon as the ring is on his finger. 

Is constantly showing it off or boasting about it. He adores it and you and he loves just holding it in front of his face and admiring it. 

Quality is something he wouldn’t care about much as long as it is like yours. 

I could see it even helping to quell some of his jealousy when it comes to Malcolm. Every time he just gets possessive he remembers how it was him with your ring on his finger. Not Malcolm’s. 

If Malcolm questions the ring you better say you and your lover are engaged or have matching ones of Brahms will be so put out and insecure/jealous once again. 

Brahms’s fingers gripped the wood lining the inside of the walls, he watched as Malcolm leaned on the kitchen counter flashing a flirtatious smile your way. His jaw tensed, teeth clacking together. 

Suddenly Malcolm’s face dropped as you reached up opening a cabinet before placing a box inside of it. “That's a new ring…” Malcolm mused eyes glued to the metal band snug on your ring finger. “Does it– mean anything?” Malcolm questioned. 

Smiling you looked down fiddling with the band “Me and my boyfriend, we got matching ones recently.” 

Brahms struggled not to laugh as Malcolm’s face morphed into one of disappointment, his flirtatious posture changing into a ridged almost awkward stance. 

[breedxblemickey]

12. “i’m going to ruin that pretty makeup.” 🙏🏻

also requested by an anon! so a kith for both of you 😘

nsfw under cut!!

ian comes home after a day of running errands and helping lip with fred to a surprising silence. the apartment is covered in toys and glitter, and in the middle of all the mess is mickey, lying facedown on the couch. he was tasked with taking care of franny while debbie attended a last minute job and he's obviously exhausted.

"hey, mick," ian greets as he tosses his shit beside the door. mickey groans into the pillows, not lifting his head as ian comes to stand beside the couch. "long day?"

mickey's response is muffled by the cushions. "i hate your niece, man."

ian just ruffles his hair and says, "she's your niece too, dumbass."

"not after all the shit she put me through today. we're divorced now and you can blame little red for it."

"well let me know where to sign the papers, i've been trying to get rid of your ass for years."

mickey's hand flies out and slaps his leg. ian just chuckles and pats his back before leaving the room, entering the bathroom to shower. he strips himself off and starts the shower, smiling when he hears mickey following him, joining him under the spray only a moment later. ian turns to wrap his husband in his arms.

"thought we were divor-"

his words cut off when he sees mickey's face. his husband's eyes are ringed with black pencil, the eyeliner making the blue of his iris' pop dramatically against his pale skin. his lips are smeared with a dusky red, a little smudged from laying face down on the couch. the bright colour spread over that mouth looks fucking amazing, especially with the way it's been feathered out around the line of his lips, making it look like he's been up to things that make ian's belly flood with warmth.

ian's hand appears in his vision, lifting without his permission to press a thumb against mickey's full bottom lip, his dick twitching at the soft noise mickey lets out.

"what happened here?" he asks, using his thumb to smear the colour over mickey's lip. mickey's eyes flick up, the black around them starting to run in the steam of the shower. his tongue flicks out over ian's thumb, a soft, wet touch that makes ian's other hand lift to wrap around his neck, holding him still as he slides the digit into mickey's mouth, breathing a rasped "fuck" when mickey wraps his lips around it.

when he pulls his thumb away, there's a waxy ring of lipstick left around the base of it, the colour stark against his skin. he wants to see that colour smeared on his cock.

"on your knees," ian orders, smirking when mickey drops to the floor immediately. mickey's lined eyes stare up at him, darkening as ian's hand slides into his hair, gripping it tight.

"you want my cock, mick?" he whispers, grasping his dick and rubbing the head against mickey's lips, smearing the colour across mickey's cheek and down his chin. mickey nods as best he can with ian's hand in his hair, and ian's smirk grows. "good boy. i'm gonna ruin that pretty make up."

send me one of these and i'll write a little drabble

[suicidalbish]

don´t judge me

[twinklyylights]

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

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Shameless (US) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich Characters: Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher Additional Tags: Fluff, Post Season 11, Post canon, They’re so in love with each other, Did I say fluff??, sooo much fluff, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Husbands Summary:

Operation “Surprise candlelit dinner just for the two of us before we have to be surrounded by family for hours.” has been a success so far and all things are heading in the right direction.

Ian’s got a menu.

He’s got Lip involved. Ready to call Mickey for help with a “home renovation emergency” that miraculously will be taken care of by 6:00 pm so that Mickey’s home for dinner.

And most of all, he’s got a completely unsuspecting husband.

[suicidalbish]

leave me alone i want to read

[theclandestineclementine]

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

DTF Devoted to Fudge

"Okay, Mick, I've never made stuffing in my life, how am I supposed to prep it?" Ian asked glancing up.

Mickey was looking at Ian and the stuffing thoughtfully, "Well prepping usually consists of working it, and making it very lubricated."

Ian looked at Mickey with his lip and brow curled in confusion, "What the fuck does that mean? Stir it? Add water?" Ian reached for a large spoon and reached to stir the stuffing.

Mickey burst into laughter, "God you really are kinda dense, I was NOT talking about the food when I said we could work on the stuffing."

Ian stared at Mickey a moment, looked at the way he licked his top teeth slowly, as if he were a wolf watching a herd of sheep pass.

Then it hit him.

"Oh." Ian said simply, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet.

" I must be a morosexual." Mickey chuckled reaching up and giving Ian's shoulder a shove.

🌼🌼🌼

Mickey raised an eyebrow teasingly as he looked up at Ian, "If I remember right you were objecting to this hoodie when I put it on."

"I, think I remember that too." Ian murmured his hands gently gripping the material of the hoodie, gripping it and letting it go.

Mickey's head tilted to the side, "So you wanna help get me out of it?" his voice was tentative, wavering slightly, as if he were afraid Ian was going to say no.

🌼🌼🌼

"I know I've gained a little weight, but I uh," Mickey began, Ian raised a hand up stopping whatever words Mickey was going to say before they passed his lips.

"Mickey you're fucking gorgeous." Ian's eyes met Mickey's and held his gaze.

🌼🌼🌼

Ian traced and pressed delicate circles all over Mickey's belly, the tightness of his belly from the food easing. The feeling of Ian's little belly rubs soothed Mickey enough to doze off, soft little snores making his chest rise and fall, his lips parting on every exhale.

[suicidalbish]

sup

[teatimeallovertown]

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

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Shameless (US) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich Characters: Ian Gallagher, Mickey Milkovich, Mandy Milkovich, Iggy Milkovich, Terry Milkovich, Lip Gallagher, Fiona Gallagher Additional Tags: AU, Stipper!Ian, Awkward Mickey Milkovich, Slow Burn, Flirting, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Bipolar Ian Gallagher Summary:

Mickey Milkovich is nineteen. Free of Terry. Horny. Single. Gay.

Mickey Milkovich is stuck.

A story of Mickey Milkovich learning to love a boy but mostly, to love himself.

[suicidalbish]

so I don't forget about it.... yeah😒😭

[suicidalbish]

omgg

I saw one post saying he looks like Willy Wonka I'm not shaming the actress it's not his fault just not used to the new one🥲

[milkovichesmicks]

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

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Shameless (US) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich & Yevgeny MIlkovich, Ian Gallagher & Yevgeny Milkovich, Svetlana Milkovich & Yevgeny Milkovich Characters: Yevgeny Milkovich, Ian Gallagher, Mickey Milkovich, Svetlana Milkovich, Veronica Fisher, Kev Ball, Carol Fisher, Amy & Gemma Fisher-Ball, Dominic Fisher Additional Tags: Minor Character Death, Angst, Father-Son Relationship, Past Lives Summary:

Life was often good for Yevgeny Wallace. He had always had a happy life. He grew up with a big house and a loving mother. He was good at baseball and debate and he volunteered with an after school program.

One trip to Chicago, however, causes his entire world view to flip upside down.