gallavichthings

[gallavichthings]

Ian x Mickey in 10x03

#Gifsets

[gallavichthings]

Don't look down, Cause there's no-one looking down on you. Your house is built on solid ground, You'll be just fine in time, just see it through.

#Gifsets

[gallavichthings]

you could hurt me, but you don’t // snow, nicole dollanganger

insp. by @mickeym4ndy's posts !! ♡

#Graphics

[gallavichthings]

He isn't afraid to kiss me

#gifsets

[gallavichthings]

Boyfriend?

Okay.

What you doing here then?

#gifsets

[gallavichthings]

Ian & Mickey being cute as shit 2/?

#Gifsets

[gallavichthings]

Becoming.

#Gifsets

[gallavichthings]

Together

#Gifsets

[gallavichthings]

We are hosting our very first writing event ~ so stuff all your pens, notebooks, and art supplies into your favorite backpack, bring water and snacks, and join us for Gallavich Summer Writing Camp!

What is it?? Writers and artists will team up in “bunks” and write a story together, paired with accompanying art (if desired!). Stories will post the 3rd week of July - during our weeklong virtual campfire.

What kind of stories can we write? * The theme of your story is ... ☀️ SUMMER ☀️ * Story word minimum: 10K * Please make sure your stories and art are tagged properly

How do I join a bunk? * You can form one with your friends! Each team can have any combination of writers, artists, and betas - we recommend 3-4 people per group. And we'll expect a cute name for your bunk too :) * If you would like to be assigned to a bunk, we’re excited to find the right one for you! 

Got my group, now what? * Once you have your bunkmates assembled, please fill out this Google Form by Friday, May 10 to let us know your plans. Just pick one representative from your bunk to complete it.  * If you’re signing up solo and would like to be assigned to a team, you can indicate that on the form too + your preferred role.

The week of May 13, we’ll contact each group to let you know your assigned posting date ~ and then you can start writing and creating!

Posting Week: July 22-26; we will check in midway through to make sure you’re on your way or if you need anything as you work toward your posting deadline.

We’ll have a Collection on AO3, so at least one person in the bunk should have an account.

The Fic Club on Discord will set up a channel specific to this event where you can ask us questions and chat with fellow participants. If you’re not on the server yet, come join us!

We can’t wait to hang out by the fire, roast marshmallows, and read stories together!

#Events

[gallavichthings]

#Gifsets

[gallavichthings]

Suck it harder you faggot

#Gifsets #Blood cw

[gallavichthings]

It's not my fault if every single post I see makes me think of them.

#Funny #Photosets

[gallavichthings]

SHAMELESS CREATORS NETWORK APRIL THEME: TWO BY TWO

ian x mickey + two step - dave matthews band

bonus:

#Fanmix #Gifsets

[gallavichthings]

Proud (Outro). - Twinklylights - Shameless (US) [Archive of Our Own] 13/13

He’s ready to continue being a husband. To continue loving Ian like it’s what he was put on earth to do.

He’s ready to wake up every day and know that he and Ian have made it. That all the things they’ve been through have been worth it.

He’s ready for year two and all the years that’ll come after that.

All the time they’ve got to spend, falling more in love with each other.

He’s ready for all of it.

Or, the month by month, high and low-lights of Mickey’s second year as a husband.

Read the WHOLE THING on Ao3!

Finally.

#fanfiction

[gallavichthings]

Two weeks to the Fanart Masquerade! Artists, how are we feeling?

#Last reblog #Gallavich #Shameless US #Gallavich Fanart #Ian x Mickey #GFaM2024 #Events #Polls #Mod post

[gallavichthings]

Two weeks to the Fanart Masquerade! Artists, how are we feeling?

#Gallavich #Shameless US #Gallavich Fanart #Ian x Mickey #GFaM2024 #Events #Polls #Mod post

[gallavichthings]

Ruthless Devotion

they'll make a hundred men bleed raw for the chance to prove themselves. (on canine coded milkoviches.) (ao3)

Put your fucking guard dog on a leash.

Mickey's hands chase over Ian's sides, his teeth nipping at the soft and tender flesh of Ian's lips. There's a soft growl that starts in Mickey's throat and ends up in Ian's own, the two of them pressed as close together as it's possible to be. Heat sears through Ian's body, a delicious high that drugs can't ever seem to replicate. Just Mickey and the way his hands, his lips drive Ian up a wall. There's nothing like him.

Fuck, Ian, he hears Mickey say against his ear, his voice a breathy huff of laughter. Ian can hear the slightest whine in the sound. He'll never admit it, but Mickey likes when Ian makes him just a little bit desperate. There's a lot of things Mickey can't and won't admit to. Like when that guy outside the club told Ian to put your fucking guard dog on a goddamn leash and Ian saw Mickey's shoulders broaden, his whole chest expanding as Mickey inhaled, sharp and sudden.

His guard dog. Protective to a fault, snarling and chasing away anyone he deems unworthy. Mandy had been the same, snapping like a junkyard dog at girls who got too close to Ian in the halls; Ian had to fight the grin that always threatened to cross his face when they did things like that.

He loves fiercely, he knows, but Milkoviches love violently. They love with claws and teeth, loyalty a pale, weak word for what it truly means. Ian doesn't think his love compares, but Mickey and Mandy both stay by his side, refusing to leave. And maybe he had to hold a hand out, let them bite his fingers and draw blood before he gained their trust, but it was worth it. No matter what anyone thinks, they're worth the pain, worth the wounds. Where others see rabid dogs, Ian sees wounded, starving strays in need of protection themselves.

Of course he'd never say it. He'd never tell them that he knows what they are on their insides. Mandy calls herself a bitch, says it proud, dares others to turn it against her. Mickey says he's anything but, that he likes what he likes; the dark and knowing looks he gives to Ian sometimes say otherwise. Where Mandy's all claws, Mickey's all teeth, both of them desperate to dig in and claim territory that they'll defend to death.

Ian's become part of that territory; he's been snapped up by these Milkoviches even with the Gallagher blood in his veins. Like he's a lost fucking sheep they're trying to herd back to safety before the wolves outside can get him. And maybe Mickey's eyes darken when he sees those wolves stalking at Ian's door—Ian knows there's more gazes than Mickey's that linger on his shoulders and his hips, along the hard planes and soft lines of his body. Mickey's there every time he turns around, though, and Ian isn't afraid for himself as long as he has Mickey.

It's not that he's stupid, either; he knows they need protecting, too. They're both the type to leave themselves bleeding, ignore their jagged wounds in favor of his papercuts. So Ian has to look out for them—both of them, because as much as Mickey has clawed his way and made himself a den of Ian's insides, Mandy was always first. And she's always been more fragile. A dog can bite to defend itself, but beat it enough and it learns to keep its teeth in its mouth. That's what Ian's here for, though; he'll keep a knife ready to fight off any man who hurts her, and let her hide her beautiful bruised face in his shoulder so she doesn't show weakness.

And then there's Mickey—Mickey, who even now traces the lines of Ian's ribs, a little too easily seen against the pale skin of his torso. Mickey, who kisses hard like a punch to the jaw and yet sweet like spring rain. Mickey, who has eyes the color of Lake Michigan and just as impossibly deep. Mickey, who came into Ian's life like a car crash and who Ian never wants to let go. It's selfish, maybe; dangerous, certainly. They grin against one another's mouths and Ian traces his tongue over Mickey's teeth.

Mickey is a guard dog, fierce in devotion and determined to protect what's his. And maybe Ian shouldn't like the way that Mickey snaps and snarls, straining to be let off the leash and bring down violence on anyone who dares look at Ian like he's only there to be used up and spat back out. It doesn't matter that Mickey looks at Ian like a piece of rare meat, because from him there's a longing and a neediness that goes with it. There's a craving, a desire that goes beyond the surface—he knows that his body is only one of the many things Mickey wants, unlike those other men. Mickey will take anything Ian gives him, the pain and the pleasure mixing between their bodies.

It sends a perverse kind of lust through Ian when he sees Mickey's inked knuckles causing bruises to bloom on the jaws and eyes of nameless men with bad intentions. There's a delicious sort of dizziness, knowing how much Mickey enjoys it, too. And maybe Ian and Mickey have bad intentions with each other, too, but those are dark desires that they only share with each other. The way Ian nuzzles against Mickey's neck, smelling the heady, sharp scent of his cologne, and Mickey clutches at him with need. He wants, he wants, he wants…and he knows Mickey wants to give him everything.

Guard dogs off their leashes—that's what Mickey and Mandy are. Ian would never claim to know how to tame them, would never want to anyway, but they're both so beautiful in how dangerous they can be. It's different, the way he loves each of them, how they love each other, but the three of them have found a way to carve out some existence that fits them well. Ian knows what it feels like to cradle their jaws in his hands, to press his lips against the pale skin of their cheeks. They've let him in and let him see their vulnerability. Guard dogs who guard themselves fiercely. Mickey sleeps curled up by Ian's bed each night, putting himself between Ian and whatever threat might come.

And Ian knows it might be wrong. Hell, he sees the looks his family gives him, when Mandy would defend him a little too loud, when Mickey does anything for Ian without being asked. He knows what it looks like. But god, he doesn't care. That kind of devotion means everything coming from them. Coming from a Milkovich, it's a declaration of love.

Right now he's buried himself deep inside Mickey, the rough brick biting into Mickey's back as they move together. Ian bites down on perfect, smooth skin as Mickey growls Ian's name against his ear. The want and need, the pleasure and pain, it all comes together in this single unmatched moment. He hitches Mickey's leg up higher and tightens his grip in Mickey's hair, dull teeth sharp against Mickey's delicate neck.

He's not the only one with claws and fangs.

There's a pull and a groan, heat scorching through Ian's body as he moves; he feels Mickey's body pressed against his own, tight and tense like a live wire. There's a frenzied kiss, blood on their lips and it doesn't matter whose. The sounds of their breaths coming harsh and jagged break through the distant noises of the city. Ian doesn't fucking care about anything else in this moment, this white-hot moment where he can love Mickey Milkovich exactly as he deserves. Loyalty and devotion rewarded, as they should be. The only one who gets this from Ian, and it's all Mickey's alone. Those other men don't own Ian's heart, not even his body, despite what they may think.

Mickey's head nearly smacks against the brick as he comes apart, shuddering, unable to hold himself together. This is the part that Ian loves, that he always tries to watch if he can. Watching the moment where Mickey takes something for himself instead of giving it away so easily. And he still gives it to Ian—he gives his body to Ian so many times, every day and every way he can—but this, this moment where he breaks into pieces and pulls Ian's pleasure into himself. Like he'd devour Ian whole if he had the chance.

And Ian knows he'd let him. Would do it without a second thought. He knows he'll never find it again, this ruthless devotion that came to him with harsh, clear blue eyes and bruised, gentle knuckles that threaten violence at every moment. He buries himself inside Mickey—he doesn't want to come up for air, just wants to breathe him in until that scent is all he knows. It's the way Mickey sends him out of his head and yet grounds him unlike anything else. His guard dog, his leashed protector. Mickey would make the world bleed for Ian. Maybe it should scare him.

It only makes Ian love him more.

#fanfiction