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rayrayor · 9 days

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@spookygingerr

I also adore Elise and I would like to think if we had one more season maybe we would have more about Sandy.

The story of Mickey’s brothers getting in bed with her now is heartbreaking that cycle continues.

Then when Mickey says “ Chop their nuts off” she grabs for his and we learn things happened when they were kids. You get the sense that was choice between them, not force. To me it feels like Mickey and her protected each other in some way.

The writers seemed to throw things at us that had hints but not really backstory. She is disconnected from her son but tender with Franny. She gets mad at Debbie for prying but hides so much of herself. Why did she care about Terry when he was shot , why was she in charge of getting him?

I was pissed that they pushed her out. I was hoping that would be the next and lesbian Gallavich. We did not even learn where she went, when Mickey said the family cleared out Terrys things, did that include her ?

But I agree tough act , maybe tender heart .

So I have one for you.Sandy. In my writing I have her all over the place because they dropped her in but I have so many questions. My biggest is why she is so defensive about Ian? Since she was Mickeys best man and Debbie’s love interest what part of her story did you feel we missed out completely on?

Hey! I hope you’re day is going well 😀

Thank you for this ask, it’s such an interesting one and something I hadn’t given much thought to. First of all, Elise Kearney Eberle is one of my celebrity crushes 🥲

I am quite nervous to talk about Sandy because she is a bit problematic with how close she is to Mickey… I feel like I don’t know enough about her with the Royal and Prince situation to talk about that too but I know a lot of people feel the same way Debbie does. But, no matter how much shameless means to us, it is fictional, so I’m going to keep that in mind and try and talk about her.

I had to rewatch her scenes to see what you meant about her being defensive with Ian, and you’re right, she is kind rude to him. When he first comes into the room after his shower and she goes “oh you”. And then he kind of mocks them with “little domestic bitches”. Then later when Mick is in full wedding planning mode and she says “I can see why you called” in reference to Ian. However she is also quite rude to Carl, mocking him about being an undercover cop when she barely knows him. Honestly I think she’s just kind of rude in general like a lot of the Milkovich’s but it is surface level. When she really gets to know someone she is so loyal, I’m thinking of her and Mickey, Debbie and she’s even sweet with Franny.

I do feel the same way about them just dropping her in for a season and then her going. It’s almost like they just brought in the Prince and Royal stuff so Debbie would break up with her. idk why, Debbie deserved to end the show with a love interest (and not that abusive woman from the last episode 🙄)

I think there is a lot we don’t know about Sandy but it would maybe be too heavy to fully go into on the show, especially in one season.

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Either comment or reblog or we can DM 🥰

#gallavich #yap yap yap #professional yapper #lunch break yaps #shameless #debbie gallagher #sandy milkovich #this is such an interesting ask!#ian gallagher #mickey milkovich

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rayrayor · 10 days

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Trapeze

Time for @galladrabbles! This week's prompt: "trapeze" by @crossmydna. Word count: 100

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These were his favorite moments.

Franny sat in Mickey's lap as they watched acrobats soar through the air. Amidst the chaos and wonder, Franny's eyes lit up. But so did Mickey's.

They listened to Franny's ooh's and aah's as she watched the spectacle. Ian looked over at Mickey and saw how young he looked, pointing up at the trapeze artist swinging and flipping around.

Their hands found each other, fingers intertwining. He hated that Mickey never got to have a moment like this before now.

But he was so happy to got to be there to experience it with him.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #shameless #galladrabbles #hmm this was a tough one #gallavich fanfic #mickey milkovich #this was the sweet Mickey we adore

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rayrayor · 10 days

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I may have reblogged this once but it came across my feed and it is way to adorable and fun not to share again 💕

I love it

It's posting day for my @gallavichthings Gift Exchange gift! I got @rayrayor and I wrote a little something for their prompt about Mickey being a 'straight' patron of Ian's gay bar. Happy gift exchange, I hope you enjoy it!

(There's no warnings and it's fairly PG)

You're Like In Love With Me - a gallavich a.u. fiction 🫶

Someone at the brewery has it in for Ian, he’s decided. They’ve assigned him the world’s weediest delivery guy, who manages to shift one keg for every seven Ian hauls off his truck, and always gets to Ian ‘after lunch’, which, tends to be closer to dinner than lunch in Ian’s opinion, and leaves him very little time to get everything stocked and inventoried and get a break in before the evening rush starts.

He’s sweating buckets as he waves the guy off and staggers back out into the main bar for some ice water. He rounds the bar and snags a dishcloth from Joni who wrinkles their nose up at him as he swipes it over his forehead and the back of his neck.

Joni doesn’t sweat, it’s a point of pride for them. Ian isn’t sure if they actually aren’t capable of sweating, or if they just avoid any activity that could possibly cause them to perspire. If he was at home with his siblings, Ian would shake his head like a wet dog, sending droplets flying all over every surface and into the faces of any person standing close enough. But last year when he took over from Gigi she made him sit through like thirty hours of online health and safety and food hygiene training, and there is an open container of cut limes on the back bar that he can’t in good conscience condemn with his bodily fluids. So he holds himself back and focuses on getting himself a drink and trying not to be too obvious about checking out his favorite regular.

Mickey Milkovich has been coming to The Scratching Post since before Ian’s time, before it was ever even a gay bar, according to the man himself. When he was a kid, before the neighborhood ‘went to shit’ – Mickey’s colorful way of saying got gentrified by the u-haul lesbians and professional gays – it was something of a slum. And Mickey grew up a regular little slumdog. Before The Scratching Post was The Scratching Post, it was The Alibi Room, and the way Mickey tells it, it was basically his dad’s office. He’s told Ian stories about how he used to sit in one of the booths and watch his dad take book or make deals, how he got his first tattoo from the owner’s cousin who was trying to rustle up enough bail money to get her boyfriend out of jail after he shot up their apartment during a bad trip. How his older brother lost his virginity in the upstairs room when it was a short-lived brothel. How the whole fabric of his life is tied up in this place, like he’s just as much a part of it as the stains on the carpet that they’ve never bothered to change.

So now that Mickey is out of prison (attempted murder, but according to Mickey it was a trumped up bullshit charge and if he wanted to murder someone he would fucking succeed) and back living in the house he grew up in, he likes to drink in his neighborhood bar, even if it’s turned into some sort of haven for the L-G-B-T-Q-Whatever (his words). It’s home.

Ian doesn’t mind. Mickey’s a fast drinker and he can hold a lot of booze, and it never hurts to get some steady business during the day. And he likes Mickey. Kind of really likes him, actually. Sort of wouldn’t mind licking the inside of his mouth or tasting the sweat on the back of his neck. And that’s where he gets into a certain amount of trouble. Because Mickey Milkovich? Is straight.

Straight as a ramrod. Straight as a ruler. Straight as the day is long. Capital S Straight. So Ian tries not to think too much about how soft his lips look or how good he smells, and he also tries to keep it under wraps exactly how much he likes to look at the guy. He’s not gonna not look at him. But he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable in, from what Ian can gather, one of the only places he feels comfortable. And he also doesn’t want to get his ass kicked by a guy he has a crush on. He had enough of that kind of fun in high school.

So he grabs his pint of ice water and wipes his forehead with his stolen rag and he limits his glances to two seconds long with twenty second intervals. Or at least he thinks he does until Joni rolls their eyes at him and announces they are going on a smoke break, since he’s clearly gonna be there for a while anyway. He’d be annoyed but honestly, they’re right.

Mickey always sits in the same spot, on a high stool at the bar just where it’s curved around enough so that he can easily see the door but not so far that he can’t see who’s coming and going from the restroom or the back. His vigilance is quiet, but noticeable if you know what you’re looking for. Or if you just spend a lot of time looking.

He’s in his spot today, left hand curled loosely around his beer like he likes to be ready to drink at any moment, and he’s smiling down at his phone in a way that has Ian’s tummy start to fizz with little sparks of jealousy. What’s got him smiling like that? He’s desperate to know.

He doesn’t always talk to Mickey every time he comes in, he tries to show a respectful level of interest, though if you polled his employees they would probably say he fails at that. He does some quick math in his head while grabbing another rag and starting to wipe down the bar top, making his way down toward Mickey’s end. Today is Wednesday, Mickey didn’t come in yesterday, on Monday Ian kept his distance, and he hadn’t worked Sunday. That meant that their last interaction had been Saturday. Four days. That’s a decent interval, he figures, and he carries on wiping over the bar, trying to come up with a subtle way to find out what has made Mickey smile.

“That your girl?” Is what he’s got by the time he’s stood in front of Mickey, and it may not be subtle but it’s all he could think of.

“Huh?” Mickey asks, looking up.

“You uh, you look like something in your phone is making you real happy, I thought maybe it was a girl.”

“Oh, Uh.” Mickey looks down at his phone and then back up at Ian, his lips tugging down into a half frown. “No.”

He closes his phone and shoves it in his back pocket, eyes shifting around the room as he takes a sip of his beer. There’s something kind of shifty about it, like Ian’s made him uncomfortable somehow, and if Ian had more self-control he’d call this one a loss and find an excuse to leave him be. But his discipline only extends to his exercise regime and diet apparently because he finds himself unable to walk away, quietly desperate to know what Mickey had been looking at.

“So what d’you win a bet?”

Mickey huffs a laugh and sticks hi phone in his back pocket, Ian wipes a spot on the bar that he’s already wiped clean three times.

“Naw man, just a picture of my sister looking fuckin’ dumb in a squirrel hat.”

Ok. Not what Ian had been expecting.

“A…squirrel? Hat?”

“Yeah it’s for her job or whatever, she looks like a fuckin’ idiot.”

His words are harsh, but the smile that’s spreading over his lips is kind of soft, like he is actually kind of fond of his sister. Ian’s never seen him smile like that before. His smile is always kind of dirty, or wry, or sometimes bordering on a grimace, this is different, and Ian feels like he’s unlocked a new Mickey nugget. He wonders if he can get some more.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Two brothers, one sister.” He takes a gulp of his beer and then does a thoughtful little shrug. “That I know of. The way my dad was though, wouldn’t be too shocked if I got a bunch more I don’t know about.”

There’s that wry smile that Ian’s used to, with a half an eye roll that belies a lifetime of dealing with a parent who never stops disappointing you. It’s an eyeroll Ian has performed many a time himself.

“God yeah me too. I got at least one half-sister who showed up out of the blue a few years back, but I could be related to half the city for all I know.”

“Half the redheads at least.” And there’s the dirty smile. He’s mentioned Ian’s hair a few times, most people tease him about it a little, it’s no big deal. He imagines Mickey would have terrorized him if they’d known each other as kids, chasing him around calling him Carrot Top or Little Orphan Annie. This is kind of a gentle tease though, something warm, accompanied with a squint that could almost be a wink, if Mickey Milkovich was the kind of guy who winked, and it spurs Ian on.

“I knew this girl in high school, her dad had so many kids running around that she had to ask people for their family tree before she would hook up with them.”

Mickey almost chokes on his beer.

“Fuck me, should I be doing that?”

“I don’t know. She had a close call once, and her dad literally had like, thirty kids.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah, so, next time you’re lookin’ to hook up with someone, just, ask for a DNA screening first I guess.”

Mickey nods, and then the air sort of drops out of the conversation, like it has nowhere left to go. Mickey gulps the last of his beer in one huge mouthful that puffs his cheeks out and sort of makes him look like he’s chewing it, and the only thing Ian can think to say is to ask him if he wants another.

“Nah I’m good, gotta get back.” He throws some cash down on the bar to cover his tab and is out the door with his arms still shoving into his jacket before Ian can even say syanora.

And then he doesn’t come back for three weeks.

It’s not like Ian’s moping, Joni can fuck off for implying that. The bar is busy and he has a lot to do and employees to manage and siblings to deal with. But in the afternoons sometimes he’ll find himself staring at the empty space where Mickey would normally be and wondering, kind of forlornly, if the guy is ever coming back. Trying to figure out what he did or said in that last conversation that pissed him off so bad he would forsake his childhood bar.

Ian misses him. His expressive face and his disgusting sense of humour, and the way he makes Ian feel, like on edge and at ease at the same time. It just sucks, not seeing him, and not knowing why.

And then one day, three weeks and four days since The Scratching Post had last seen hide or hair of him, he’s back, sitting on his regular stool when Ian gets done mopping the bathrooms.

It gives him a jolt, a little shiver of excitement running down his spine as he shoves the mop in the corner and rounds the bar.

“Haven’t seen you around here lately.” He greets Mickey, as casually as he can, and Mickey looks up, kind of startled, and then looks down at the bar. Or. There’s a white envelope sitting there, and he seems fixated on it.

“Everything ok Mick?”

Mickey nods, a quick little jerk of a thing, eyes fixed on the envelope. He doesn’t even have a drink in front of him.

“You want a beer?”

He shakes his head, brings his right hand up to lay his fingertips over the envelope and slide it across the bar toward Ian.

“What’s this?” Ian picks it up, there’s no name on it, no details, it’s not sealed but he’s still not sure if he should open it. Mickey’s looking up at him when he’s done inspecting it.

“It’s uh.” His bright blue eyes flick away and then back again, are they wetter than usual? They seem so shiny when they finally rest back on Ian. “It’s a DNA test.”

“A DNA test?”

“Yeah. We um. We ain’t related. So.”

He raps his knuckles on the bar a couple of times in a short sharp knock that he must think serves as a suitable stop to this most bizarre of conversations, and clambers off his stool, heading for the door.

“Wait Mickey—What?!”

“Just. Read it.”

The door has barely had time to swing shut before Ian is practically tearing the envelope in his haste to look at the paper inside. It’s exactly what Mickey said, a DNA test, comparing Mickey’s DNA to his own, which, he’s gonna have to talk to him about where he got a sample of Ian’s DNA from, and confirming that there’s no overlap. In the top right corner, in a chicken scratch of a hand, Mickey has scrawled the words ‘just in case’ and then a phone number, and Ian almost drops his phone in the ice trough in his rush to pull it out of his pocket and send a text.

[2:34pm] I thought you were straight?

The reply buzzes through almost immediately, like maybe Mickey’s stood outside looking at his phone waiting to see what happens.

[2:34pm] Good.

It’s a very Mickey text, and something about it makes Ian feel warm, like he’s being trusted with something Mickey doesn’t trust a lot of people with.

[2:35pm] Where did you get a sample of my DNA??

[2:35pm] That really what you wanna be asking me right now?

[2:35pm] I’ve got a lot of things I want to ask you.

[2:36pm] So come outside, I don’t got all day.

It’s possible that Ian knocks over a stool and drops his dishcloth on the floor, he’s got bigger fish to fry.

#gallavich fic #fic #gge2024 #gallavich fanfic #mickey milkovich #gallavich #mickey x ian #ian and mickey #ian x mickey

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rayrayor · 10 days

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A new chapter, yep within a few days of each other .

Mickey gets support in ways he never thought

After 51 chapters, I hope you have popped over to @darthvaders-wife page to check out more amazing art like this . If not, there is only about 8 chapters left for me to tempt you to do so lol

#gallavich #gallavich fanfic #mickey milkovich #mickey x ian #shameless fanfiction #ian and mickey #gallavich fic #what keeps a man holding so long #ian is waiting #the boys grow up #becoming way better men than Terry or Frank #New OC character Mags #sarcastic therapist which is what Mickey needed #I have wrote 51 chapters and folks keep reading #I love you all for that 🫶

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rayrayor · 10 days

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@crossmydna and @galladrabbles for this weeks prompt , Trapeze

Oh my stars this took a bit , but my gram used to sing this song , I just had to find the lyrics , oy

Trapeze

Stupid Gallagher.

Sure sometimes he would follow Mandy and her boyfriend.

More like Mandy,his beard.

He was jealous of just how at ease and playful Ian could be.

Like today, at the playground, standing with Mandy on the swing, singing.

He’d fly through the air with the greatest of ease,

That daring young man on the flying trapeze.

His movements were graceful, all girls he could please

And my love he purloined away.

He was jealous.

Jealous of Mandy,close to that freckled body.

One day it would be him on the swing with Ian, singing sweet.

He hoped .

#gallavich #gallavich fanfic #galladrabbles #mickey x ian #ian and mickey #mickey milkovich #gallavich fic #pre canon #trapeze #love weekly galladrabbles #galladrabble

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rayrayor · 11 days

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Thank you @sluttygallavich @roryonic @mybrainismelted

It’s time for ….

Weekly Tag Wednesday

_______________________________

Bleachers or Dugouts

Wedding or Anniversary

Dom Top Daddy or Tough Guy

Tough guy s just said with so much love

Together or I’m fuckin’ gay

Club kiss or Docks kiss

Prison reunion or parolee reunion

ghetto married or married married

flapjacks or patty melts

courthouse kiss or prison makeup kiss

patsy’s proposal or bar proposal

steven segal or justin timberlake

take your hand off the glass or you look like a wet rat

coming up for air or move like you stole it

Tell me goodbye or hard to get’s getting me hard

Can I help or I definitely love one

You’re gonna be a great dad or I gotta worry you’re my husband

breakfast smooch or catch up later peck

So anyone up to playing and sorry if I am the 777777th person tagging you

@bawlbrayker @babygirlmickey @jrooc @deathclassic @jomilky @whatthebodygraspsnot @whaticameherefor @redwiccanrobin

#gallavich #gallavich fanfic #weekly tag wednesday #wednesday tag

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rayrayor · 12 days

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Thank you @sweetperversiongirl . I love it .

I had coffee unlike these two, it almost spit it out laughing several times

Thank you Rayray @rayrayor for encouraging me to participate in the Drabble Challenge ♥ Thanks to Mandi @bawlbrayker for helping me edit this ♥

Here's my drabble on request number 15: “I’d kill for a coffee...literally.”

Morning crept inexorably into Ian and Mickey's bedroom, along with the sun's insidious rays. They should have gotten new blinds to replace the old ones Ian had taken from Lip and Tami's house in Milwaukee. In fact, Ian wasn't the least bit bothered by the fact that he had to wake up literally at the crack of dawn. He had long since gotten used to the strict regimen. The same could not be said for his husband, who had become particularly restless lately. Besides, Mickey had always hated the beginning of the work week.

Not that Ian thought there was any reason for Mickey's restlessness. But apparently Mickey himself thought otherwise.

The agitated tossing under the covers signaled to Ian that his husband was awake, and not in the best of spirits. It didn't come as a surprise to him either.

"Fucking shit!" Mickey jumped up from the bed so abruptly that the phone Ian was holding fell onto his chest.

Raising an eyebrow, Ian decided he wasn't going to release any comments just yet. Instead, he preferred to focus on enjoying the magnificent sight of his grumpy and completely naked husband. He couldn't hold back a disappointed sigh as Mickey quickly picked up the first boxers he could find from the floor and put them on, thus depriving Ian of an important part of his aesthetic pleasure.

Standing in front of the window, Mickey grabbed the blinds, crumpling them at the edges. He then jerked his arms violently, pulling the blinds off the window, allowing sunlight to fill their bedroom.

"Might as well not have this shit in here," Mickey yelled, throwing the now permanently broken blinds to the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he threw Ian an angry look. "You should give this shit back…” he kicked the blinds with his foot,"to your fucking brother. I'll be fucking glad to know that asshole has as fucked up a morning start as we do."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with my morning," Ian couldn't resist commenting, for which he was immediately rewarded with two blue knives pointed right between his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I completely forgot that you are Mr. 'Nothing Can Take Away My Zen'. In that case, Master Shifu, could you stop thinking only about your own ass for a second and take care of your fucking neighbor? Isn't that what fucking kung fu teaches?"

"Actually, kung fu teaches you to be more tolerant of your neighbor first and foremost," Ian snapped back. "I'm sure I've been pretty good at it so far, Mickey."

With those words, he threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. His morning boner stared proudly at the ceiling as Ian stalked naked into the bathroom. He didn't like the fact that his husband had managed to get him off balance so quickly, but Mickey's lustful sigh behind Ian's back made up for that brief discomfort.

Ian's peace of mind was fully restored after Mickey caught up with him in the bathroom doorway. Ian received his rightful morning blowjob, which he immediately returned to Mickey with all the enthusiasm of which he was capable.

Brushing his teeth, Mickey mentioned in passing that Kit, their new West Side client, had turned out to be a sneaky bastard who'd tried his best to drive the price of shit down. Ian simply reminded Mickey that credit should be given to Kit, since it was Mickey who had arbitrarily jacked up the price of shit. The incident was over.

Until it turned out that there was no coffee in their apartment.

________________________________________________________

As they approached Starbucks, they found a line a mile long, which in itself was not surprising for a Monday morning. The next coffee shop was much less crowded, much to Ian's sincere joy. All his hopes of getting the morning going again were dashed immediately after the waiter mixed up their order and brought them iced coffee.

"If I liked drinking this shit, I'd have stayed in fucking Mexico!" shouted Mickey desperately as Ian dragged him outside, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

Eventually, after all the morning's misadventures, they found themselves in a tiny, unremarkable coffee shop. By West Side standards, it was just a hole in the wall, mostly ignored by the civilized locals. Ian figured: why not? After all, he and Mickey were still ghetto dudes, right? His temporary excitement quickly faded when he and Mickey walked up to the counter and found there.... the laziest barista in fucking Chicago.

Ian read the man's name on the nametag.

"Good morning, uh... Squidward?" he greeted the barista with the most idiotic name he'd ever seen. After the guy didn't even bother to look up from his phone at him, Ian decided to order anyway. "Double Americano and an Americano with cream, please."

Again, no response. Throwing a glance at his husband, who was leaning his butt on one of the tables, Ian realized Mickey was approaching boiling point. He returned his attention to the barista, already seriously contemplating that a plate of stale oatmeal cookies would look good on this guy's head.

"Hey, Mr. Tentacles," Ian muttered through clenched teeth.

Meanwhile, Mickey had gotten his ass off the table and walked over to the counter, resting his palms on it. A sly smile played on Ian's lips as he reached across the counter and slapped Squidward hard on the shoulder. The man didn't even flinch at this unceremonious invasion of his personal space. Instead, he slowly raised his head and stared at Ian, blinking his sleepy fish eyes stupidly, as if he didn't know there was anyone here but him.

Ian arched an eyebrow and nodded at Mickey's tattooed fingers, which his husband defiantly spread, knuckles pressing against the counter.

"I suspect you can read. Can you see what it says here?"

This time it apparently reached Squidward what an unpleasant situation he had gotten himself into. He swallowed awkwardly, and then, like an idiot, began to read aloud the writing on Mickey's knuckles. This made Ian growl impatiently and Mickey snort smugly.

"Bite him, Hercules!"

"Jesus Christ," Ian rolled his eyes, ignoring his shithead husband's retort. "Are the people in this place even capable of reading between the lines?" The barista blinked dumbly again. "Look," Ian noisily let the air out of his lungs. He points at Mickey’s tattooed fingers and spells it out, "It says, 'I'd kill for a coffee.' And that's not a euphemism, Mr. Tentacles. We understand each other now, right?"

With a hasty nod, Squidward jumped up from his seat.

A few minutes later, Ian and Mickey were enjoying a fairly decent coffee, seated at a table in the deserted coffee shop. They'd even allowed themselves to get a little fucked in the bathroom because Mickey was so damn horny. Ian thought he guessed the reason for that.

"Bye, Sponge fucking Bob. See you later," Mickey called out cheerfully, waving goodbye to Squidward as they left the café.

Once outside, Ian put his arm around his husband's waist and pulled him to him for a brief but deep kiss.

"Do you think he'll be happy to see us here again?"

"I don't care if he'll be glad or not," Mickey snorted. He looked relaxed now, which Ian couldn't help but be pleased about. "We'll definitely come back here again. Dude's a dickhead, sure, but his coffee's pretty damn good."

A wolfish smile blossomed on Ian's lips.

"Are you sure it's not because I turn you on so much when I'm angry?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Peter fucking Pan," Mickey rolled his eyes. "You know you look like a golden retriever most of the time, right?"

Twisting out of Ian's embrace, Mickey headed toward their parked car. Ian rushed after Mickey, resenting being demoted so abruptly.

"Hey, what happened to fucking Hercules?"

#gallavich fanfic #drabble challenge #prompt 15 #gallavich fic #mickey milkovich #shameless fanfiction #mickey x ian #ian and mickey #gallavich #Mickey needs coffee #Mickey is a caffeine thug

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rayrayor · 13 days

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I just signed up, excited to be teamed up.

Great Summer Event

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!

#gallavich summer writing camp 2024 #gallavich fan art #gallavich fan fic #gallavich fic #shameless fanfiction #mickey x ian #ian and mickey #mickey milkovich #gallavich fanfic #gallavich

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rayrayor · 13 days

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Hey Kat! @mybrainismelted

Here is Drabble challenge 34 , as asked.

“ You work for me. you are my slave “

Please note, GILF ( Ginger I’d Like to F@*k )

Ian was finally home after ten years in the military, two Purple Hearts, and a Medal of Honor. Gnarly chest scars and nightmares about the brothers he could not save. He was not ready to go into EMT work yet but needed routine.

Mandy Milkovich. Bestie and Beard since freshman year. Flew out to Walter Reed and held his hand, making sure he wanted to still live. Now a regular at his and Carl's apartment. Her brothers owned Kings of the Southside Ink and her brother Mickey, the star tattooist, temperamental shit and hot beyond the dirty, angry older brother who would flop on the couch and give him and Mandy crap.

He was also in need of an assistant and receptionist, and somehow Mandy talked Ian into the job. After two weeks, he understood why the position was open. The appointment book was a mess, their insta needed an upgrade, and the complimentary beverage and snack service reminded Ian of the psych hospital.

And then there was his direct boss, Mickey. Surly and sexy, the man had no filter and no boundaries. Hard working for a man you either wanted to strangle or suck off. It was also harder as his phone blew up each day with the requests, demands, and ramblings of the raven-haired thug.

He had just come back from his run when the phone vibrated.

Pocket Jefe: Hey, is the place you get coffee the place with the coffee I like?☹️

GILF: You drink it black; literally, anywhere I go has the coffee you like.

Pocket Jefe: That’s what I pay you for; how the fuck would I know which shop? I never go to any.

GILF: That’s because your ass was banned from like 9 by the shop because of your donut tantrums.

Pocket Jefe: What, you don’t care about donuts?”

GILF : Well, I am always a fan of a glazed hole.😜

Pocket Jefe:🖕🏻

Back at the shop, Mickey was beet red, grabbed his coffee, and fled to his station.

——————————

Ian was enjoying the quiet of Staples, which he knew would not last. His phone lit up with photo of a sleeve of gears and lilies, Mickey.

Pocket Jefe:🎤 Whips and chains excite me.

GILF: Are you asking or telling me?

Pocket Jefe: Keep up the Gallagher. Song. What’s the name of the song with those lyrics?

GILF : Ok, again, I cannot read your mind; I need a little more than your professing love of BDSM for me. Which FYI , I am a fan. You a power bottom by chance? Also, it’s Rhiana, S&M.

Pocket Jefe: Jeez, this assistant of mine makes my dick twitch.

Pocket Jefe: Shit, did I send you a text by accident? FYI, not about you.

GLIF: What text, Mick?

Pocket Jefe: Don’t worry, your pretty head, sweetheart, just get back here, oh, and bring me a big ass snickers. 🍫

Ian smiled and filed the information he had just given away for a later date.

————————————

Ian had just settled after a long day of explaining to Iggy that if he did not write down appointments, Ian could not add them. He had ice cream, jacked off to a certain pair of blue eyes, and was about to watch Drag Race. He had just settled in when his phone almost vibrated off the coffee table.

Pocket Jefe: WTF, Gallagher! You asked Colin about ink?

Pocket Jefe: What you don’t trust me, that stings, man. ☹️

Pocket Jefe: I do much better scar coverage.

Pocket Jefe: not being nosy, but saw those when you changed into a skin-tight tee. This is a semi-professional atmosphere Army, not a rub-in tug.

GILF: I never asked you cause last time I mentioned your work, you were your usually grumpy prick self and threatened to stab me with your Taco Bell spork. You were watching me change; I used to charge guys to see that. So you think of yourself as my pimp?

Pocket Jefe: Fuck you, is what I think. Enough of this touchy-feely bullshit. Enough chitchat; my appointment is running late. Can you go feed Carl Barks and Noodles for me? Oh, and get me some Pringles, a BBQ, and a pack of smokes. You know the code to my loft.👍

GILF: You know I am off, right?”

Pockey Jefe: You get off when I tell you to get off. You work for me. You are my slave. "C'mon, please.“

GILF: Fucking fine, you need me to peel you a grape too? 🤬

Pocket Jefe: I mean, I wouldn’t say no. Seriously, when you get there, just text me and let me know everything is fine. If you want to stay, we can maybe talk about a coverup piece or something.

GILF: Ohhhh, can we have pizza and a sleepover too?

Pocket Jefe: Your pushing it, keep talking back, and your going from slave to sex slave.

Pocket Jefe: Umm, damn autocorrect, sax slave, not sex 🎷

GILF: Whoring me out to Kenny G? 🥹Bummer.

Pocket Jefe: 🖕🏻

Ian grinned. He was about to get either fired or fucked; he hoped for the latter.

————————

Mickey was just cleaning up his station, and his focus was not on his big fat tip from this work.

Ian Gallagher.

He secretly crushed on the gangly redhead when he would hang with Mandy. He knew about Ian’s history as a medic and the almost-life-ending injury that ended his career. But he saved five that day, who, by accounts, should not have survived the firefight. Deep scars were over that broad chest and hard abs. The story made those scars beautiful. He was always flustered around Gallagher, but he thought he hid it well.

His phone vibrated, he glanced, his mouth went dry, and the warm tingle went to his crotch. Gallagher sent a photo.

Tight Kings tee, a truly Godzilla-size cock trying to break out of blue boxer briefs. A motherfucking collar. And on a silver platter no less, a small whip, a chain, grapes, and a big ass tube of strawberry lube.

A text

GILF: Waiting for you to tell me when I can get off; may I peel you a grape in the meantime, sir? 🫦

Mickey grabbed his keys and jogged out to his car, eager to go blow Ian’s sax.

#gallavich fanfic #gallavich fic #ian and mickey #mickey milkovich #drabble challenge #prompt 34

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