fictionalcharactersaremypassion

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Hopefully the next chapter of 'Cause Baby We're Just Reckless Kids will be out before the 28th (which would mark 2 months since an update)

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Ian: I’ve never been more challenged in my life. Marry me Mickey: No Ian: Then prepared to be wooed Mickey: Not from the likes of you Ian, excited: You’re going to be mine

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Mickey: love is fake Ian: *kisses Mickey's nose* Mickey, with his voice breaking: I stand by what I said

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Mickey: Ian's nose twitches in his sleep sometimes Mickey: like a bunny Mickey: it gives me heart palpitations Iggy: when I asked how you've been I was expecting something less sappy but ok

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Ian: I’ve made progress with Mickey Lip: He put you in a headlock Ian: It was a romantic headlock

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long hair mickey has my heart

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Mickey and the Baby

Ian had a weird fascination with babies. Mickey didn’t see what was so great about them. All they did was eat, shit, sleep and cry all the damn time. 

Still, his husband adored them. He fuckin’ loved Lip’s kid, even though he was keeping everybody up, wailing in the middle of the night. 

Mickey didn’t often think about Freddie or whatever the fuck his name was. Their lives were mostly separate besides crossing paths here and there or if Ian was holding Freddie in his arms, cooing in that stupid ass high pitched voice he used with him or Franny. 

Until tonight, that is. 

The Gallagher kitchen was quiet, the light on but dim. Him and Ian just returned home from a long day of deliveries. Still dressed in their uniforms, nursing along some beers, they basked in the silence. 

“I’m fuckin’ beat,” Mickey took a swig. Both sitting at the table, Ian yawned, nodding in agreement. 

“Yeah. But we keep goin’ to the Northside clients, we’ll be out on our own soon.” 

“God, I hope so. I’m getting real tired of being interrupted by Gallaghers,” Mickey griped. 

“You don’t care if it’s Franny,” Ian slipped his hand through Mickey’s interlacing their fingers. 

“That’s cuz she’s ain’t fucking annoying,” Mickey said with a shrug. 

“Admit it, she’s your favorite,” Ian chuckled. 

“Well, it ain’t fuckin’ Lip,” Mickey said, his face contorted into mild disgust at the mere idea. 

“I hope fucking Lip isn’t a favorite of yours.”

“You’re a fucking dumbass, you know that?” Mickey was shaking his head, keeping his lips together so Ian didn’t see him suppressing a smile. 

Ian shrugged. “Speaking of Lip,” he said, “I hope he’s getting some sleep tonight. Freddie’s been keeping him and Tami up.” 

“What about us?” Mickey said, incredulous. “The little shit’s been keeping us up too.” 

“He’s a baby,” Ian said, scandalized that Mickey would say that about an infant. “He can’t help it.” 

“Still no excuse for being a little shit,” Mickey ignored his husband’s glare. 

“Mickey, he’s your nephew.” 

“And you’re my husband. Doesn’t mean you’re not fuckin’ annoying either.” 

Ian huffed. “What’s your point?” 

Taking a large drink of his beer, Mickey said, “I don’t get your fascination with babies, man. It’s fuckin’ weird.” 

“They’re cute, Mick,” Ian defended. “You don’t think they’re cute?” 

Mickey blinked, and said point blank, “No.” 

“Jesus,” Ian rolled his eyes, rising to his feet. “Throw away my beer for me? I’m going to piss.” 

“Whatever,” Mickey reached behind him to throw it away while his husband went to relieve himself. 

It was at that unlucky moment, just a couple of seconds of silence, that he was alerted to soft footsteps he recognized at once to be Lip’s. 

Goddamn it. 

His brother-in-law had Freddie in tow, gently bouncing him. It was the first time in a few days that Mickey really got a good look at Lip, and right away he saw the dark circles under his eyes that suggested he could’ve fallen asleep any minute now. 

“Hey,” Lip yawned. 

“Hey,” Mickey drank the rest of his beer, arm thrown over the back of his chair. “You look like shit, man.” 

“Feel like it too,” Lip said dryly. 

“Where’s your baby mama at?”

“Asleep,” Lip said. “I didn’t wanna wake her. What about Ian?”

Mickey wordlessly gestured towards the bathroom, causing Lip to look over. 

“Ah.” Lip adjusted his hold onto Freddie, who was looking around with big, blue eyes. “Hey, hold him for a sec, will ya?” 

“What?” Mickey was frozen as the baby was suddenly in his arms. “Fuck no. Take it back.”

But Lip had already headed straight for the coffee maker. “I just need some coffee first.”

The little fucker smiled at Mickey. He felt a little weirded out. “What am I supposed to do with it?” 

“Him,” Lip said mildly as he fiddled around the kitchen. “Just bounce him, he likes that.” 

“Fuck,” Mickey muttered. He was growing more uncomfortable as the seconds passed. 

Ian came out, the toilet flushing behind him. His face lit up at the sight of Freddie. “Hi, Buddy!” He exclaimed. “Are you having fun with your Uncle Mickey?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey shot him a dirty look. “Your brother can’t take care of his own kid so he pawned him off on me.” 

Lip yawned, unoffended. “I need a few minutes to myself. I’m beat.” 

“You’re beat? What about us? We ain’t been getting any sleep either, Phillip. Shoulda thought about that before you started sticking your dick in Tami.”

Ignoring him, Lip said to Ian, I’m making coffee. You want any?” 

“Not really supposed to have any with my meds,” Ian responded. 

“Not supposed to have beer either,” Lip turned the machine on. Ian cooed at his nephew, taking his fuckin’ tiny hand into his freakishly large one. “Hey, think you can come outside with me for a sec? I’m pretty sure Frank has a key hidden around the yard.” 

“Is that how he’s been getting in?” Ian was in the midst of putting his jacket back on. “He ate all my fucking poptarts.” 

The two of them were on their way out when Mickey stopped them, keeping his voice down so he didn’t make the kid cry. 

“Ay, ay. The fuck are you doin’?” 

“We’ll be right back,” Ian assured him. 

“Yeah, and in the meantime, don’t hold him like that,” Lip said, referring to how Mickey had yet to hold him any closer than arm's length away. “You gotta support his head.” 

Was he seriously leaving Mickey with his fucking baby? 

His jaw clenched as the door shut. Fuck. Mickey readjusted the kid, cradling him like he’d seen Ian do before. Freddie was in an easy going mood right now, thank God. 

Didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed as fuck. 

“Ay, yo,” Mickey said to him firmly, “just cuz you got Ian fallin’ all over you doesn’t mean I will. Your baby shit doesn’t work on me, got it?”

Freddie babbled some nonsense. 

“Don’t know what’s so fuckin’ cute about you anyway,” Mickey grumbled. “You’re a little shithead keepin’ us up all the time.” 

At this, the kid broke out into a gummy smile. 

“At least you agree you’re a shithead,” Mickey smirked. “Your dad, though? He’s been one his whole life.” 

Freddie chuckled at this, as if he knew it was funny. Mickey didn’t even realize he’d started to grin a little out of amusement. 

“You think that’s funny? Just wait until you see how much of a fucking klutz your Uncle Ian can be.” 

It was surprisingly easy with this kid. Unlike most of the other times Mickey had seen him, Freddie wasn’t crying. He didn’t mind this at all. 

Course, he was still gonna give Lip shit for giving him his kid like that. 

“Your dad said you liked to be bounced, that true?” Mickey stood up, still holding onto him with one hand on his head, but gently bouncing like he’d just seen Lip doing. 

He made more noises, which Mickey took as approval. 

“Yeah? You like that? You wanna go again?”

He did it, taking a few steps around the kitchen. Couple of minutes went by, Freddie laid his head against Mickey’s shoulder. Kid must’ve been getting tired for once. 

Fuck, Mickey must be fucking soft if this was gonna make his heart flip flop around. He slowed down his bouncing, glancing down at the little guy. 

His lips were slightly parted, eyes closed, fuckin’ tiny ass hand gripping Mickey’s uniform. 

“Guess you ain’t so bad,” he decided nonchalantly, rubbing the boy’s back softly. “You’re alright.”

Shit, he did look kinda cute like this. Who fuckin’ knew Lip’s sperm wasn’t completely useless? 

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I have a super cuuuute oneshot of Mickey and Freddie that should be done (hopefully) soon, if not by tomorrow!

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Fic Recommendation!

i like taking pictures (as long as you're in them) by @em-harlsnow

It's a oneshot where Lip discovers the photo albums Ian has of Mickey on his phone

It's hilarious and super cute and if you need to read something to cheer you up, I highly recommend this!!

Favorite part:

“I think it’s time for us to go.” She says lightly, picking up Fred’s seat.  “Yeah, leave. Before I murder you.” Mickey threatens darkly. “Aw, you won’t murder me. You’re too busy being ‘Mickey - Cuddly’.” Lip snarks. 

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When Franny Catches Santa Clause (Sort Of)

“Where the fuck are you going now?” Mickey complained at the sight of his husband sliding his coat and hat on.  

“Lip needs my help with some last minute Christmas shopping,” Ian said, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. Mickey wore a grumpy expression as they parted. “He still needs another gift for Freddie. I told you we were going after dinner.” 

“All the kid does is shit and sleep. The fuck does he need a gift for?” Mickey had envisioned how this evening was going to go, and now his plans were shattered. 

Rolling his eyes, Ian zipped up his coat. “It won’t take that long. We’ll be back before you know it. Why don't you go watch Frosty with Franny?”

“I’m a grown ass man, Gallagher. I don’t watch fuckin’ cartoons.”

“Hey, you ready to go?” Lip came to stand in the doorway. 

“Yeah, just give a second,” Ian responded, shoving his wallet into his back pocket. Mickey was on the bed, arms folded. “I promise we’ll be back soon. I’ll call you when we’re done, okay?” 

“Whatever,” Mickey said. “You’re giving me a blowie later.” He really did want one, had intended on getting one, but he mostly just said it because his brother-in-law was right there. He was rewarded with a grimace from Lip, who muttered Jesus Christ under his breath. 

A grin stretched over Ian’s face. His fingers cupped Mickey’s cheek. “That depends....Do you think you’ve been a good boy this year?” 

“Okay, Ian-” Lip interrupted, ruining their goddamn moment, “you think you reign it in until you get back?”

Mickey had a scathing retort for Phillip on the tip of his tongue, but then Ian lowered his head, whispering near his ear, “I have an idea for that extra tinsel if you’re interested.” 

“Shit, Red, you’re gettin’ me hard already,” Mickey groaned. His husband laughed, kissing him on the cheek. 

Lip remained where he was, unimpressed. “I really don’t know what you said to him,” he said on their way out. Ian said something Mickey didn’t catch. 

Blowing out a breath as he waited for his dick to go back down, Mickey realized he really didn’t have anything else to do. Maybe he’d go see what Little Red was doing after all. 

*

The television was on but Franny was no longer watching it. She wasn’t even sitting on the couch anymore, but rather, rummaging through the cupboard under the stairs. 

“Whatcha doin’, Little Red?” He raised a brow. “If you’re lookin’ for the presents, they ain’t there.” 

“I’m not looking for presents, Uncle Mickey,” she said distractedly. 

“Then what are are you lookin’ for?” 

Franny was halfway in the little cupboard, pulling herself out with a little frown. “It’s a secret.” 

“What kinda secret?” Mickey probed. She said nothing, just stubbornly smashed her lips together. “C’mon, Fran, you can tell me. Tell your favorite uncle what’s up.” 

“Uncle Ian is my favorite,” she corrected. 

Hmm. Nothing a little bribery couldn't fix but he’d do that later. “Fine, whatever,” he got down on his knees on the floor. “But you can tell me, okay?” 

She thought it over then sighed dramatically. He refrained from snorting. “I need a trap, Uncle Mickey.”

“Why? Someone giving you trouble?” 

“No,” Franny shook her head. “It’s for Santa. Mama says I can’t see him because I gotta be asleep but I wanna see him so I’m gonna set a trap.” 

Now, Mickey knew for a fact that a lot of the gifts were currently hiding in Lip and Tami’s trailer which Ian would be bringing in later that night. He should probably discourage her but fuck that. He was feelin’ a little petty after Ian seemingly decided he’d rather go with fuckin’ Lip and stand in those crowded ass stores than stay home with his husband. 

“You want any help, Fran?”

Her little face broke out into a beam. “Yeah!”

Mickey smirked. 

*

With the trap set, Mickey and Franny sat at the kitchen table, eating a shit ton of cookies that Debbie had baked. It helped that he'd already had the necessary supplies stored here so it made the task pretty easy. 

“Uncle Mickey?” Fanny swallowed her bite of cookie. “Have you ever seen Santa?” 

“Can’t say I have, Little Red,” Mickey said in between his mouthful. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Timmy said you can never see Santa but I said I would and he said you can’t and I said you could and-” 

“And what?” He cut in. 

“And...and Katie said there was no Santa Clause,” she looked sad now, looking up at Mickey with those big eyes of hers. “Is that true?” 

“No, fuck her,” he said immediately. “She’s just lyin’, Kid.”

“But why would she lie?” 

“Kids are fuckin’ mean,” then he remembered who he was sitting with, “no offense.” 

She shrugged. 

Debbie’s voice could be heard calling for her daughter. “Franny! Time for a bath!”

Franny looked like she wanted to object so Mickey said, “Ay, go ahead, Fran. We’ll go on a stake out later, okay?”

“Okay!” She gave him a fist bump when he held out his enclosed hand. 

*

Eventually, Lip and Ian came home, though significantly later than his husband had anticipated. 

“I’m sorry,” he said when they were both in bed, the lights out. Ian was waiting just a little longer before he went out to fetch the gifts. 

“Fuck off,” Mickey grumbled. 

“It was crowded,” Ian said in his defense. “It took nearly an hour at the checkout.” 

Mickey rolled over, glaring at him even though Ian probably couldn’t see it. “I coulda been getting a blowie.”

“I’ll give you one tomorrow,” Ian paused, “or later today, technically.” 

“When?” Mickey said skeptically. “We won’t get a moment’s peace until everyone goes to bed.” 

Ian’s hand slithered up Mickey’s night shirt. “Then I’ll just leave one last present for you to open...”

“You’re so fuckin’ lame,” it would’ve held more heat if it didn’t come out so breathy. 

Ian’s soft chuckle hit Mickey’s ears. He captured Mickey’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss. “Merry Christmas, baby.” 

Mickey’s hands came to rest on the back of Ian’s neck, matching his husband’s rhythm. When they parted, their foreheads were resting against each other’s. 

“Just wait until we get our own place,” Ian murmured. “We’re gonna decorate the shit out of it.” 

“Now hold up,” Mickey’s nose brushed against Ian’s. “Who says we’re doin’ any of that shit?”

“Oh, we’re doin’ it. Tree, lights, everything.” 

“No lights or decorations besides a tree. And not one of those real trees either. I ain’t cleaning up fuckin’ pine needles.” 

“Tree and lights. We can decorate along the walls. It’ll look really nice.”

“Dial back your HGTV fantasies. We gotta buy the place first.” 

Ian tilted his head, kissing him again. Mickey sorta melted into that, eyes fluttering. “What was that for?” 

“I’m just really glad we’re here together.” 

“Fuckin’ sap,” Mickey said with fondess. Ian clambered off the bed, feet hitting the floor. “You goin’ to get the presents?” 

“Yeah,” Ian was getting his shoes on. “Can you make sure Franny’s not awake? I caught her in the cupboard earlier. I think she was looking for them.” 

“Sure thing.” Mickey was glad Ian couldn’t see his smirk. He waited until he’d gone downstairs, hearing the creak of the door as it shut. Then he quickly, but quietly, made his way towards Franny and Debbie’s room. 

Debs was sound asleep but her daughter was not. Franny was already wearing her boots, her coat in hand. 

“Did we catch him, Uncle Mickey?” She asked, voice tinged with excitement. 

“Shh,” he motioned towards Debbie. “Don’t be too loud. We don’t want anyone to hear us.” 

She nodded seriously.

Together, they made their way downstairs and out through the backdoor. As soon as Mickey’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see a silhouette and he grinned. 

“Did we get him!?” Franny shouted. 

She hurried around the corner, her lips tugging into a frown when she saw who it was. 

“Uncle Ian! You’re in my trap!”

Mickey had an old bear trap made of rope and net that he’d never gotten rid of. Using one of the beams on the house, which was surprisingly sturdy, he tied it on there. He’d even used one of Franny’s stuffed animals for bait. Out here with dim lighting, Ian undoubtedly went over to pet it. He was a sucker for animals and Mickey knew it. 

So he hung there in the air, glaring daggers at Mickey. 

“Damn,” Mickey said, feigning disappointment, “must’ve missed him. Your uncle probably helped him escape.” 

“Uncle Ian,” Franny said reproachfully. “We were trying to trap Santa Clause!”

“Uh, why?” Ian’s annoyance was momentarily on pause. He looked between them both for an explanation. 

“I wanted to see him,” Franny said matter-of-factly. She wasn’t too happy that the jolly old bastard wasn’t here right now. “And you let him get away!”

“Ay, Fran,” Mickey shot his husband a smug grin, pulling her into his side, “don’t be too hard on your uncle. There’s always next year, right?”

She thought it over and nodded. 

He ruffled her hair. “Why don’t you go inside, get a cookie and go to bed? And don’t go peeking at any presents.” 

She giggled, hugging his waist. “Okay, Uncle Mickey. Goodnight!”

“Night, Kid,” he dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. She started to go up the stairs, calling out a goodnight to Ian as well. When the door shut, Mickey faced his husband, pleased with himself. 

“What the fuck, Mickey?” Ian looked close to throttling him. 

Mickey shrugged. “S’what you get for ditching me.” 

“Ditching you? I was helping Lip.” 

“Could’ve been given me blowies instead,” Mickey pointed out. “Could’ve gotten one yourself.” 

Ian breathed in through his nose, holding onto what little patience he had. “Get me out of this, Mick.” 

“Nah,” he decided. 

“What?”

“Why don’t you ask Lip to help you?” Mickey watched Ian’s eyes widen in disbelief. 

“You’re not fucking serious right now.” 

But Mickey was already on his way inside. “Maybe next time you’ll stick around.” 

“Mickey, it’s freezing out here!” 

“Then you better hope Phillip hears you,” Mickey said with a snicker, shutting the door. He could still hear Ian fussing- albeit muffled. He took a bite of a cookie, going up the stairs back to the warm bed, feeling very satisfied with himself.  

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Ian to Iggy, referring to Mickey: Think you can straighten him out for me? Iggy, patting his brother on the shoulder: Straight isn't really a big part of Mick's vocabulary

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

here's a lil sneak peak of a Christmas themed fic coming soon!

“Hey, Mick,” Ian chirped. He was carrying a bin of supplies but Mickey’s eyes zeroed in on the fuckin’ stupid santa hat he wore.  “The fuck are you wearing?”  Ian grinned. “I got one for you too.”  “Fuck that,” Mickey said immediately. “I ain’t wearing it.”  “Aw, come on, Mick. Get in the spirit.”  “You come near me with that shit and I’ll have you seein’ spirits.” 

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the hardest part about wanting to write most of a fic before posting is waiting until you write most of it!!

I have chapter 2 finished of the fic where Ian gets kidnapped. We're a little over 20k words and I wanna post it soooo bad but I know I should write more before doing it

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Colin was sprawled out on Fiona’s bed, fully clothed unfortunately. 

She was getting ready for a night out with Vee, currently down the hall in the bathroom. 

“Don’t know why you’re going out when you can ride me on this bed instead,” he called, one arm behind his head. 

Debbie was walking by at that exact moment. She paused, wrinkling her nose. “Ew.” 

“Move along, Ginger,” Colin said with a sweeping motion. She rolled her eyes, but did. 

Fiona came back to her room, putting an earring in. “As much fun as that sounds, I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Feels like shitty decision making on your part.” 

“You think?” She said with fake thoughtfulness. She turned around, giving him a view of her bare back, the zipper only pulled halfway up. “Come zip me, will ya?” 

Colin threw his legs over the side of the bed, getting up. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. She smelled really fucking good. Must've borrowed some perfumey shit from Vee. 

“Colin,” this drew a laugh from Fiona. “Come on, I gotta go soon.” 

“Gonna have to be a little more convincing than that, Gallagher,” he said near her ear. “I don’t really feel like letting go of you just yet.” 

A few chaste kisses on her neck was enough to have her stifling a moan. She was weak for that shit. 

“You’re not tryin’ to get away either, are ya?” He slid a hand down her side, stopping at her hip. Fiona took in a breath, pushing his hand off her. 

“Nice try,” she said. “But I’m still goin’. Now help me zip up this dress - up, Colin.” 

“Fine, but you better let me unzip it later.” 

Fiona laughed, turning around so she could have her arms around his neck. “Keep dreamin’, Milkovich.”

“Long as you’re in it,” Colin snuck a quick kiss. A grin stretched over her face, her head shaking while she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. 

She looked fuckin’ gorgeous in the blue dress she’d borrowed from Vee. 

“Damn,” he murmured. 

He couldn't resist; Colin spun her around, pushing her against the wall, going in for another kiss. 

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Have a new software, but I'm still looking for "my" style. I like to accept tips from experienced artists. 😊🫠

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Fic recommendation:

The Shitheads Next Door by fckyeahgallavich

Cell blocks are supposed to be quiet, right? FUCKING WRONG! Especially when you've got a pair of bickering shitheads living next to you. Look… I'm not a fuckin homophobe, but these queens have GOT to get their shit together or I'm gonna lose my shit.

It's in Enzo's POV and one of the funniest oneshots I've read

This is one of my favorite parts:

Later that night, Gallagher screeched “DID YOU DRAW A DICK ON MY FACE?” just as I was dozing off to sleep. “No, I drew a dick as your face. Because you’re being a fuckin dickhead.”

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

S7 Gallavich💜🩵🤍 requested by @m1ckeys-3lite <3

I was determined to finish this in one day because I’m stubborn and very stupid so I stayed up all night and now I’ll have to go to work with 3 hours sleep😭😭

(Was worth it)💅🏼✨