#how do I apply to be a Gallagher

[mandy-faith-502]

Just finished shameless for the first time and, my god have I been missing out.

Spent the past few (don’t even know how long it took me to get through it) weeks doing basically nothing besides going to work and watching shameless.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

hi i might get attacked for this but gallavich stans who never hold mickey accountable yet always shit on ian annoy the shit out of me

[sam-loves-seb]

the bathroom drawer

"Mickey!" Ian yells. "Did you move my cologne?"

"Your what?" Mickey calls back, appearing in the bathroom doorway while buttoning up his shirt.

"My cologne."

"No. I don't even know where you keep that shit."

"In here!" Ian says, shaking his head as he rummages through the drawer below their bathroom sink. "I swear I left it in here."

"Lemme see," Mickey says, nudging Ian to the side. "You're shit at looking."

"I'm not shit at looking, it's just not fucking there."

"Yeah, yeah," Mickey grumbles, moving the junk in the drawer around. "Jesus Christ. How much shit do we got in here?"

"Too much," Ian muses, folding his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against the sink. "But it doesn't matter anyway. It's not in there. I've been looking for--"

"Found it." Mickey holds up the blue bottle with a smug grin.

Ian grabs it from him. "Whatever."

Mickey raises his eyebrows. "Whatever? That's what I get?"

Ian leans in and gives him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," he says instead.

"Better," Mickey grumbles.

Ian spritzes the cologne onto himself while Mickey keeps rummaging around in the drawer. He pulls out an empty toilet paper roll, a broken comb with too many teeth missing, and an old phone charger with exposed wires.

He throws them all in the trash. "This thing is a mess."

"Yeah," Ian says with a sigh, checking himself over in the mirror. He paws at his hair a bit. "We gotta do a deep clean in here one of these days. Closet's a disaster too."

"What the fuck is--"

Ian looks over at his husband when he doesn't finish his sentence.

Mickey's brows are furrowed as he holds up a thin black stick in front of his face. "Is this makeup?"

Ian huffs out a faint laugh. "Yeah."

"Debbie's?"

"That thing's old enough to be Fiona's," Ian tells him, taking it from Mickey. "But no. It's mine."

Mickey raises his brows. "Yours?"

Ian uncaps the tube, twists the end so the little black tip pushes through the end. "Eyeliner."

"Holy shit," Mickey says slowly. "How fucking old is that thing?"

"Old," Ian says, trying to read the chipped writing on the side for any kind of date. "Probably expired."

"That shit expires?"

"Supposedly. But who knows."

Mickey tilts his head, watching Ian examine the eyeliner. "How the hell did it end up here?"

"No idea," Ian tells him. How it survived in the Gallagher house for as long as it did and moved to their west side apartment is beyond him. "Probably got boxed up with some of my shit a long time ago."

"Huh," Mickey muses. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Can't believe you used to put that shit on every night."

"Me neither," Ian says. "You ever tried it?"

"What, make up?"

"Yeah."

"For a disguise once or twice," Mickey tells him with a shrug. "Never like, just 'cause."

Ian starts to grin. "You wanna?"

"Fuck no," Mickey says instinctively. He bites his lip. "Why? You gonna wear it tonight?"

"Why not?" Ian asks, facing the mirror and leaning in close. "We're already going to a club. Might as well get go all out."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." Ian glances over at his husband. "You got a problem with that?"

Mickey shrugs. "No."

"Okay."

Mickey watches with rapt attention as Ian applies the eyeliner to himself. The stick is old for sure, and it takes a few passes to really get the make up on his eyelid. It only takes a minute though, and then Ian's eyes are outlined in black.

"There," he says, blinking and turning to face Mickey. "How do I look?"

"Weird," Mickey says.

"Sure, but like, crazy weird, or hot weird."

Mickey's brows pinch together. "...Hot weird."

Ian grins. "It's kinda doing it for you, isn't it?"

"No. Shut up," Mickey says quickly.

Ian laughs. "You should try it," he tells his husband. "It's fun."

"It looks like it's gonna get in my eyes."

"Maybe," Ian says with a shrug. "But I bet you'd look hot with it."

"You say that about everything you want me to wear."

"And I've never been wrong once."

Mickey makes a face. "Does it hurt?"

"No."

"...Can I take it off if it looks stupid?"

Ian's face relaxes. "You can take it off whenever you want," he says softly. "Doesn't ever have to leave this bathroom."

Mickey glares at the eyeliner, his face slowly melting into apprehensive reluctance. "Fucking... fine."

"Really?" Ian asks, perking up.

"How do I do it?"

"I can do it," Ian offers, holding up the eyeliner and his open hand. "Lemme put it on you."

Mickey sighs through his nose, then steps closer. He tilts his chin up and fits his face into his husband's waiting hands.

Ian kisses his temple. "Close your eyes."

Mickey does as told. His eyelashes flutter at the first press of the stick, eyelids scrunching at the new, weird sensation.

"Hold still," Ian whispers, trying not to poke him in the eye.

"Feels weird," Mickey mumbles.

"Yeah, but..." Ian pulls back, smiling at his work. "Open your eyes."

Mickey blinks them open, eyebrows bouncing with it. "So?"

"Damn," Ian says, grinning. "You look good, baby."

"Fuck off with that," Mickey grumbles, turning towards the mirror. He makes a face. "I look like a fucking alien."

"A hot alien."

Mickey gives him the side eye, but he doesn't immediately wipe the eyeliner off. He leans in close to the mirror, tilts his head this way and that. Pulls at the skin on his cheeks and his temples. "Weird," he says quietly.

"So," Ian starts, capping the eyeliner and tossing it back in the drawer. "You ready to go, or what?"

Mickey sighs heavily, taking one last look at himself in the mirror.

Ian slides in behind him, curls a hand around his hip. "Don't overthink it," he whispers, kissing his husband's temple. "If you like it, go with it."

"I don't know if I like it."

"That's okay too."

Mickey leans back against him. "It looks good on you."

Ian smiles softly. "Thanks."

Mickey hums. "Fine," he says, standing up straight. "Let's go. But if anyone says anything about it--"

"I know," Ian says, hands on his husband's shoulders as he follows him out of the bathroom. "You get to punch them."

"I get to punch them."

"Fine." Ian kills the bathroom light. "And we might have to hit the 24 hour CVS on the way home. I definitely don't have make up wipes."

[jesswriteswrongs]

After School Special

Fandom: Shameless USA

Characters: Lip Gallagher x Female Northside!Reader

Summary: Reader and Lip return to her house after school, but Reader’s mom comes home early and has a lot to say

Warnings: body shaming, discussion of food, discussion of exercise, discussion of weight

A/N: Readers mom reads like Emily Gilmore because I’ve been binge watching Gilmore Girls

It was mid-October and you had no idea how Lip survived without a coat, when you were dreading pulling your hand out of your pocket to unlock the door. Once you were both inside the warmth of your house you lead Lip upstairs to your room. “Wanna help me with my literature homework?” You asked him, putting your backpack on the floor and hanging up your coat.

“I do love you in that uniform…” he replied, sitting on your bed. You never thought that the kilt, sweater vest, blazer and saddle shoes were particularly attractive, but Lip always seemed to think so.

“Really?” You asked, straddling his lap.

“Mmm…” He replied, pushing your blazer off your shoulders “Southside bad boy corrupts private school girl? It’s like something from a romance novel.” You let your blazer fall to the floor. “Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do-“ You interrupted Lip’s recitation of Shakespeare by clapping your hand over his mouth, hearing the front door open and close.

“Shit! My mom’s home early.” You whispered.

“Y/N!” Your mom shouted. You put your finger to your lips to signal Lip to be quiet, and climbed off his lap. You headed downstairs to see what she wanted.

“Hi Mom.” You said nonchalantly.

“Y/N! How long have you been home?” She asked, looking you up and down. You squirmed under her gaze.

“Just a few minutes, I was just about to start my homework.” She frowned.

“Hm… well, remember your sister is coming home from Yale this weekend.”

“Yes, Mom.” You replied monotonously.

“How’s your application to Princeton going?”

“I don't need to apply until next year.”

“Yes, darling, but Princeton will look closely at your junior year. Extracurriculars are important.” She placed her handbag on the bureau, paying more attention to the wood grain than to you.

“Mom, I’m already president of the Model United Nations and VP of the astronomical society.”

“Yes, but you’ll need more. Your sister was captain of the swim team, president of the key club, class president and valedictorian.”

“Mom, I’m not Laura.” You sighed, playing with your sleeve cuffs

“Don’t I know it.” Your mother retorted. She looked you up and down once more. “You’re looking fat. I’ll tell Maria to skip the after school snack, you can wait until dinner, and you’ll be taking salad for lunch for the rest of the week. Your father and I pay for the gym, you should use it.”

“Yes, Mom.” You said once more. “Can I go back to my homework now?” Your mother literally looked down her nose at you before she spoke.

“Fine. But I expect you to be exercising after dinner.” You nodded, fisting your hands inside your sleeves and wiling the tears not to fall. You quickly turned and ran back up the stairs, shutting yourself in your bedroom, back against the door, before you let the tears fall. You had completely forgotten Lip was waiting for you in there.

“Y/N?” He asked quietly.

“How much of that did you hear?” Your voice was low and quiet, almost trembling.

“Enough.” Lip replied. He opened his arms. “Everything she said is total bullshit. You’re not anywhere near fat, and you’re going to get into Princeton.” You allowed yourself to be hugged and comforted by Lip, tears falling on to the blue shirt you loved on him. “And if your mom really wants you to get some exercise I can think of an exercise regiment that she’ll hate.” You laughed wetly, before wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

“This is why I prefer your house.” You said quietly.

“What, too loud to think with the police turning up anytime they want?” Lip chuckled. You rested your temple against his shoulder.

“Yeah but it’s family. You may not have much but you love each other, and most of the time you even like each other.” Lip laughed at that. “You’re not competing against each other or trying to outdo each other’s achievements. Everything Laura does I have to be the same or better, whether I want to or not.” Lip seemed to think about that for a moment.

“I guess you’re right.” He said after a moment of silence. “We’re dysfunctional, sure, but I’d do anything for my family. Our achievements are what they are. Shit, I’ll be the first Gallagher to finish high school. Plus, Fiona likes you a lot more than she’s liked my other girlfriends.” You ran your thumb over his shirt collar.

“It’s refreshing. Fiona thinks it’s great when I get a C, Debbie likes when I bring my art homework, it feels safe.” You said quietly.

“Even with Carl running around?” Lip asked

“Even with Carl running around.” You laughed, and kissed him. “I’m totally serious though, my literature homework is due tomorrow.”

“Hmmm, can I be your reward afterwards?” Lip asked.

“Can we go to your house tomorrow?” Lip smiled and nodded. You smiled back and climbed off his lap, grabbing your book and sitting back on his lap.

“What are you doing, Y/N? I thought you were doing homework?” You grinned wickedly at Lip.

“You really want to wait until after?”

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Hi dear I hope you're doing well and I was hoping if you can do the whole greaser gang with a s/o that's like Fiona Gallagher from the show shameless? Like she's taking care of her six siblings and her dad who's usually at the bar or passed out somewhere. Their mother ran out and is mentally ill so their s/o is left to be her siblings mother/father/ and nurse fill free to ignore if you want to do and I hope you have a good day!

Summary: The Outsider x Fiona Gallagher!Reader Warnings:mentions of absent mother, drinking, very toxic adult behavior, dysfunctional family Author's Note: gonna be busy tmrw and weekend again, ill try and post 1 fic per day but no promises.

PONYBOY CURTIS

Ponyboy doesn’t really live in a dysfunctional family, yes his home life is tough but Darry loves him and tries his best and pony knows that

However, pony cant mentally put himself in Darry’s shoes of having no-one to lean on and having to take care of many siblings

When he first met you, he was absolutely smitten. And when you told him of your problems, he thought you were the toughest chick in town

He often asks Darry what to do to take a couple of burdens off your shoulder. He applies it to you and also at home, you’ve made him a better person.

JOHNNY CADE

Has a dysfunctional family and can understand, to an extent..he still gets fed sometimes and doesn’t have to work to stay in his home

But he doesn’t have a hard time adjusting to you.

He’s very open and loves your siblings, so he tries to take them out as many times as possible to give you some rest.

He genuinely doesnt understand how your parents could have left you doing all this by yourself when you’re such a perfect girl.

SODAPOP CURTIS

Soda admires you like you’re a work of art. 

He takes everything into consideration, for example, if he wants to take you on a date he’ll invite some of the gang members to hang out with your siblings and keep them away

Never asks you for anything, not to rant, vent or anything. He feels as if his problems could never measure up to yours so his whole world revolves around you.

Tries to spend as much of his money as possible to get you nice things and spoil you.

STEVE RANDLE

Steve understands how tough it is for you mentally. He’ll often stop by your place with something for you, like a box of chocolates or something. 

Whenever he’s over, he makes an effort to get to know and play with your siblings, he even was going to introduce himself to your dad. You convinced him it was a bad idea so he didnt.

He makes it known that you can tell him anything, literally anything, and he’d listen. He also wants you to know that you can call him anytime and he’d come for you.

Reassures you that he won’t ever leave you, that you’re special and he’s madly in love with you.

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit has some kid experience so he tries his hardest to keep your siblings company and even brings his sisters for ‘playdates’

Really enjoys spending time with you and would even do the chores around the house with you to keep talking with you.

He’s not very good at comforting people and he tries to make up for it by using his humor. You get where he’s coming from and it often helps a lot actually.

Tries his best to look nice for you when he comes over, he wants you to know he’s not a washed up nobody like your parents and wants to be a rolemodel to your siblings.

DARRY CURTIS

Often tells you that you’re perfect and that your siblings will grow so much better with you as their ‘parent’. He once made you cry because of what he said and he just held you in his arms while you sobbed.

He can sort of relate to what you’re going through but his is not as extreme as yours. 

Whenever he can he drops by to help you. Date night consists of making dinner for your siblings, washing the dishes and having a late night dinner together after you put your siblings to bed.

He knows you'd make a perfect wife since he’s old enough to marry, just waiting on the right time to pop the question.

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas is insensitive and rude to you. He knows what you’re going through, he just doesn’t care.

However, once you caught him putting on a bandaid for your younger brother. He wasn’t kind about it, saying things like “can’t you do this yourself?” but he still did it.

He knows you saw it and thinks that hanging around your house and helping you with chores and siblings will keep you quiet about it

He doesn’t like kids, but he tolerates them for his reputation, and because you’re growing on him.

[saltnsugarbear]

you poor thing, sweet mourning lamb (18+)

summary: you trust Lip to never compel you. This being said, he wants to try something new in the bedroom

title from: "Ptolemaea" by Ethel Cain

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: could this be considered blood play?? is all vampire sex blood play? MDNI!!! afab reader genitalia, vaginal oral sex, edging/orgasm denial, vaginal fingering, TVD style compulsion (consensually), biting (surprise??)

side note: welcome back TVD-Shameless au, everyone say hi to heretic Lip Gallagher we love him

divider by @strangergraphics

"Please, baby.." Lip bites softly at your jaw. The attention to your jaw and his begging has you pressing your heel against your core to alleviate some of the pressure building.

"Lip- I don't know- I don't think that-" You're cut off with a moan as Lip nips softly at your carotid.

Lip removes himself from your neck, looking at you with wide eyes. The look he gives you is pleading, and you can feel your fight slipping.

"Please, baby... 'S the only way to be sure.. Promise you'll feel so, so good.. If you don't, we'll stop, and I won't do it again.. Even get you some vervain, make sure it doesn't happen again.." Lip's asking you so nicely, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of your inner thigh.

He brings his other hand to cradle the side of your face softly as you mess with the fabric of his shirt. Lip knew you trusted him to not compel you, so there was never a need for you to hold onto vervain. He discouraged your relaxed mindset, often telling you about the dangers of other vampires who would want to compel you.

However, what he was offering tonight wasn't the usual compulsion you were worried about. The only thing Lip was suggesting was testing to see if he could prolong your own release.

The idea intrigued you, to say the least. You don't give it too much more thought before you're nodding, "Yeah... Okay, okay.."

Lip's eyes light up, gaze dancing across your face to make sure there's no signs of discomfort.

"Oh, baby... Thank you, thank you, thank you..." Lip starts to pepper your face with kisses, biting softly when he kisses over your cheek and jaw. "Gonna feel so good, I promise.."

Lip pulls away from you and brings both hands to hold your face, rubbing softly against your cheekbones. His eyes are intense as he looks into yours.

"You're not gonna come until I say so," Lip's voice is firm and authoritative, further stoking the fire in your belly. You watch the way his pupils dilate as he speaks. "Gonna tell me if it becomes too much or you don't like it."

All you can do is nod, not entirely sure if you're meant to feel different because of his words. He gives you a soft smile before he kisses you gently.

Lip guides you to lay back against the bed, his body moving fluidly with yours as you fall back. He's quick to trail kisses over your shirt and down your body, tugging your shorts and underwear down your legs as he kneels on the floor in front of you.

He starts with soft kisses along the inside of your knee, slowly trailing up your thigh to where you need him the most. You whine softly when he stops in the middle of your thigh, sucking hard against the skin before soothing the spot with his tongue.

The feeling of Lip's teeth sinking into your thigh makes you groan loudly. You can't help how you buck your hips off the bed, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets to keep yourself grounded. His tongue traces softly around the punctures in your skin, hand squishing your thigh to coax out more blood. Lip's other hand lays flat against your stomach, applying a soft pressure as he pushes your hips back onto the mattress.

When you look down, your gaze meets his, pupils blown wide as he laps softly at the source of blood coating his lips. The view makes you dizzy and whine softly. He abandons the bite to kiss farther up your thigh. Placing a kiss right above your clit, moving his mouth lower.

The feeling of Lip's canine tickling against your clit makes you gasp. His breath is warm against your core. He's quick to replace his fang with his tongue, licking a stripe up from your slit to your clit.

Lip laps softly at your hole, bringing his hand lower to rub tight circles against your clit with his thumb. When he pulls his mouth away from you, your hips attempt to chase him. He huffs softly against your skin, the sound muffled slightly. His tongue is quickly replaced with the tips of his wet fingers, his thumb is replaced with his mouth softly sucking against your nub as he slowly inserts his two fingers.

His now free hand slips away from your body and you can only assume what he's doing based on the groans he's releasing against your clit. The vibrations of his voice and feeling of his fingers starting to thrust in and out of you his intoxicating. When he removes his mouth from you with a kiss, you feel his tongue prod at the puncture wounds on your thigh, tracing the drops that slipped down your skin.

You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening and feel the way your walls clench around Lip's fingers. However, the feeling of your release washing over you never comes. You can't help but whine at the feeling, bucking your hips into Lip's hand in an attempt to find a way to loosen the knot in your stomach. He holds his hand still, letting you fuck yourself on his fingers, letting you get increasingly frustrated as you chase a release you can't find.

"Lip.." You whine softly, lifting your hips off the bed, his arm following the motion of your body easily.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks you, feigning innocence, tilting his head to the side.

"Please- Need to-" You're cut off by your own moan when Lip leans forward to suck gently on your clit. He's gone as quick as he was there, slipping his fingers out of you gently.

Lip pulls away from your core to tug off his shirt, tossing it somewhere towards the end of your bed. He brings one of his hands from your hip to hold your jaw, keeping you from looking away from him as his rolls his hips against your own. Your eyes roll back, not containing the way your hips rut into his own. Lip takes advantage of your open mouth, bringing you into a sloppy kiss.

The kiss is tangy with blood and your slick, coating his lips and tongue as he explores your mouth. He can't help the way he groans into your mouth, rutting his hips against yours. The kiss is quickly broken as you moan into his mouth, both of you panting against the others' lips.

Your brain is dizzy, your body jittery, and on edge as it holds back your release.

"Lip.." You whine, tugging at his shirt and trying to bring him impossibly closer.

"Feel good, baby?" He asks you, breathing heavily above you.

"Mhm.." All you can do is nod, moving your hands down to tug at the waistband of his boxers.

"Look at you.." Lip chuckles softly. "Got y'all turned around, don't I?"

You nod again, not really taking in any of the words he's saying. You can't help but whine when he moves back from you, mourning the loss of his warmth against your skin.

Lip tugs off his boxers, kicking them to the floor and pushing up your shirt to expose your chest. He's quick to kiss along your chest, placing a sharp nip over your heart. Lip pulls back when you gasp softly, watching droplets of blood slowly roll down your chest. The feeling of his tongue has you arching your chest into his face, breathing heavily.

Lip places a soft kiss to the broken skin, kissing along your collarbone and up to your jaw. The open mouth kisses he places along your skin make you whine, turning your face to capture his lips with yours.

"Gonna feel so good, I promise... Just gotta hold out a little longer, baby.." Lip kisses you shortly before lining himself with your entrance.

"Promise you're going to feel so, so good.." He tells you gently as he starts to slowly push in.

It's going to be a long night.

[doshiart]

F1 AU // GALLAVICH

Ian Gallagher is a racing driver, a young star of the McLaren team. Mickey is just a car technician, who only recently joined the team as a trainee.

/long read backstory below/

Okay, I've thought about this a lot. So.. Shameless US but.. huh? living in UK?

First of all, because Formula 1 is more popular in Europe. Secondly, because I want to alter the story of Mickey's growing up. Make it a story about a little boy persevering towards his dreams. And how a simple childhood passion can grow into a potential job opportunity.

If briefly, below I talk about Mickey's developmental stages, along with his final emigration from Ukraine to the UK.

I'm not going into Ian's backstory here. But I'll mention this in more detail at the very end of the post, if you get to the end. Ha ha. Have fun reading!!

---------------

Mickey was six, just a little boy, when he first saw a F1 race on TV. And he was amazed by how quickly the cars could go and how quickly the mechanics performed at pit stops. (Are these even mechanics? Well, they turn the wheels, dad does the same thing in the garage and considers himself a mechanic).

When the next year he went to school in his first grade, then to all the teachers' questions or questionnaires with their “What do you want to be when you grow up?” he confidently answered as clearly as his childish language could, that he would definitely become a F1 mechanic. Even though he received only gentle smiles in reaction to his naivety of being a kid, the desire took root in his little head.

---

As he grew older, he continued to enjoy racing, watching every race weekend he could. And while he was a child this did not cause any particular problems. Mom encouraged him in his interests and every New Year gave him tiny branded cars of the teams he loved. But as he gets older, the more often he hears from dad that he is interested in some stupid things. And he didn't want to hear a word about racing at all. As soon as Mickey mentioned it even once, he was cut off mid-sentence.

These are not real cars.

Real mechanics work in a garage with real cars, not kids' toys for show.

Come down to earth. It’s all somewhere far away and you never even get to one of these races in your life.

---

Well, Mickey talks less about racing out loud anymore. Especially after mom's gone.

Tiny model cars disappeared into the closet's darkness.

His dad began to drag him into their garage more often so that he would get used to work and not wander around idle, lost in his stupid dreams. He had to skip live racing broadcasts as a result. It was sort of suicidal acts to turn this on in the garage on a small TV instead of some dumb music channel with hit songs. Mickey had learnt long ago to keep his mouth shut.

Just listen. Bring it. Grab it. Repair simple details. Don't go under the hood. Don't touch this, don't touch that. And especially don't break anything. Blah blah blah.

Jesus, are you even a man? Take your gentle hands away if you're not ready to get dirty.

---

Despite everything, Mickey still had a dream. One day, he hopes to watch a real-life race. Hear the noise of wheels flying over the track, the roar of engines, the screams of a supportive crowd. He prefers to never talk about his own desire to work as a car mechanic or engineer in F1.

---

Mickey was sixteen when he left after ninth grade for a vocational college to applied mechanics specialty.

Because, well, he had good reasons for leaving school two grades early. At the very least, he was already tired of going to school. He didn't even have any friends there. Yes, he communicated with classmates, but that's not it. It's forced. Just so as not to be an outcast and maintain the status of the Milkovich family by playing dirty tricks at school and bullying others. Did he like it? Absolutely not. These guys were idiots with stupid jokes and always picking on chicks.

They kept asking if he liked any of them and talking about how they looked all the time. Mickey never liked anyone. It wasn't that the girls were ugly, he just didn't find them attractive. But he pushed these thoughts away and ignored them. Left it somewhere near to the tiny race cars in the darkness.

Also, classmates called him into fights on regularly. Not that he was against kicking someone's dumb ass, but that he would prefer better reasons than just trying to prove whose class is above.

Another reason is that, in their family, working with their hands and having a real profession are more valued than going to higher education. Because this is a job for real men. Where will all these managers, lawyers, accountants, stupid psychologists be when their car breaks down? Mechanics will always have work and profit.

As well, Mickey is deeply curious about the workings of the engine and wants to fully understand its mechanisms. He will therefore be able to study this in practice with teachers, rather than with a psychotic bastard who screams at the slightest opportunity.

The only thing Mickey truly wanted to learn at school was English. Not because he loved it. This gave him at least some hope of "breaking abroad for the sake of a good life". Perhaps the main reason for his success was that he had a really great teacher who pushed and encouraged him. Sometimes he would stick around after class and stay just to talk with her. Mickey felt parental care, which he hasn't received lately.

“I believe that you can achieve a lot, Mikhailo. Just believe in yourself.” She told him and he believed her, hugging her a little longer so as not to show his wet eyes.

And well, after leaving school, these words sometimes came to mind during the saddest times, when he returned home after a long day of school combined with an exhausting shift in the family garage. Every time he spoke with his dad, he felt terribly devastated. The dream was literally slipping out from Mickey's hands. A pipe dream, is that what they say? Well, at least he'll try to do something.

---

Mickey was twenty when he graduated and by this time he was actively saving money, hiding it in different places. Also, he planned his escape from home, considered the best routes, and looked at what things he should take with him, confused about whether he would ever return home again.

As he approached his twenty-first birthday, he finally decided to do it. With only a spark of hope, he was ready to leave for nowhere. And okay, Mickey was a realist; he was aware that things might not work out at all and that he would have to return back eventually. But he'll do anything, though, to make sure that this doesn't happen, to avoid having to meet his dad's derisive gaze once more as his goal gets mocked.

After all, a dream is a dream, right? He also had skills and language abilities in his pocket. So he's really ready to do anything to attain even the tiniest success.

---

To get to UK, Mickey had to go through a long journey of transfers from bus to train, from train to plane. He's terribly tired, but here he is. He stands and watches as the new country greets him with heavy rain.

He first found it difficult to adjust to other people's smiling faces. There were a few times when he didn't feel at home because everyone was so friendly and lovely. And these people were incredibly talkative. He'll have to get used to this if he plans to stay here.

The first difficulties he encountered occurred at the department while filling out a form for migrants.

“Mik.. Mikai.. Mikaelo?”

“Mikhailo.” Mickey interrupted.

The employee's eyes stared blankly at him.

He sighed. “Ugh.. Mickey? Yeah, Mickey.”

“Okay, Mickey. Here you are.”

---

Mickey got a job as a mechanic for a small business fairly quickly thanks to his abilities. He was so easily and warmly accepted into the friendly team. Here he first felt respect while working. Mickey got assistance from the job department in extending his visa to stay in the country. His job also provided him with a tiny apartment, deducted from his paycheck.

After a while, feeling a little more self-assured, Mickey started saving money for qualifying courses that would help him in the future.

---

Mickey was almost twenty-four when he successfully obtained all the qualifications that were necessary for the job, as well as to be sure of himself and his knowledge. During this time two full racing seasons had passed. He attended only one race at Silverstone. This was his almost full year in the UK. His skin broke out in goosebumps when he saw the track in person. It wasn't quite what he expected. Mickey literally stood in one place and once in a while cars would drive by. On TV they show a larger overview, but still. He was excited. In this grand prix, a new young racer from the McLaren team took third place for the first time. His name seems to be Ian, and he likes to take risks on the track, driving the car while presenting a strong sense of confidence. And his hair perfectly matches with the team's car.

He missed the second race due to a qualifying exam. But he's not upset. Mickey is closer than ever to his dream. If everything works out, he'll see even more racing. If not, well, then he'll continue to work repairing regular cars. Perhaps he'll be able to attend grand prix events in other countries during his holidays?

But now it's the middle of the season and he's standing in the lobby of the McLaren Technology Center. He's trembling a little and his wild eyes are scanning everything in the immediate area.

Mickey can't believe the reality of what's happening. No he didn't become a mechanic. But.. it's still impressive. He was interviewed and tested to become a temporary vehicle technician for the team as an intern. He was told something about a possible career advancement and access to other things once he completed more qualifications, but he's not sure he heard everything correctly.

Later they tested him on team tests on the track. He's surprised that he was able to concentrate on his speed and did everything exactly as needed.

He actually became… exactly the one who changes the wheels and does minor repairs. He joined the technical team and will also work on pit stops during the races. And well, okay, if everything that's happening isn't a dream, he's really happy. Extremely happy. Of course, the longer he studied, the more he wanted to do engineering and development. But that's the tiny step, right? This is already more than anything he could have imagined. He saw the race in real life from the stands, and now he got the opportunity to see everything from the staff. He'll interact directly with the racing car. He might even hear how the team interacts with racers. Unbelievable.

Through the noise in his ears, Mickey hears someone standing beside him talking in a muffled voice.

“Hey! You're a new technician, right?”

The guy had already taken off his helmet when Mickey turned around. He softly smiles while stroking his fiery red hair.

Mickey stared at him. When he was brought to the track, he thought that some tester was sitting in the car, but not their young star.

“Yeah. Hope so…” He twitched his lip and scratched nose. “You're Ian, right?”

Of course this is Ian, what a stupid question. It's too embarrassing.

The redhead smile became even larger.

“Yeah…”

And just as he was about to add something else, one of the staff called Ian to go back and he hurriedly turned to Mickey and said quickly, “Oh, uh, see ya later then, gotta go.”

---------------

I'm glad I finally wrote and drew this. This idea has literally taken over my head so much that I don't have the energy to write Ian's backstory in the same way. Once again I am convinced that writing is hard work. And I want to say again about my love for writers. YOU ARE INCREDIBLE. For my brain, drawing is easier than writing. But it was fun!

!!!AND!!! THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! If someone suddenly wants to write a big multi-chap slowburn fic or little drabble or do anything, I'll be happy so much with absolutely anything!!

---------------

Let's talk about Ian now. I was actually going to write a backstory for him too. Maybe at least some minor notes, but I'm not quite sure how best to connect his bipolar with racing. Usually because racers drive go-karts from childhood, get into the junior league and generally build a racing career for years. Maybe he had a breakdown somewhere between seasons and it was quickly noticed?? I don’t know… And I think about how the team constantly checks him, which at times upsets him and forces him to prove to everyone that he is fine and able to drive the car.

Most likely, in this AU, Gallaghers are either rich, or Ian has a sponsor, if you know what I mean… From this fact, a whole lot can change in story. And the second thing seems more likely to me.

I was thinking about how Ian joined the McLaren team at the age of 21, and by the time he first met Mickey he was 22. He had been stable for a long time on medication.

So I'm also considering the possibility that somewhere between his 17-19 years he disappeared from the radar and came back when he found a sponsor who could pay for everything he needed and help him get into the F1 league. At first it was the weakest team, until his potential was noticed and he was offered to move to another team. This fact with the sponsor will probably put a lot of spokes in the wheels (ha).

Racer's body is undergoing an enormous physical strain, so they spend a lot of time in the gym. And Ian really enjoys working out with his team.

Another interesting fact: racers have a super-strong neck to be able to cope with gravitational forces during the race. Therefore, special attention is paid to neck in training. (It seems from the moment I found out this my little fixation began…)

---------------

I think there's a lot of pining here or something. They seem to be nearby, but due to different job responsibilities, at completely distinct levels. And I really want to read something like this with so slow burning.

So, I guess you can consider this as a big prompt for writing, if it inspires you.

Thanks for reading! <3

[gallaghersgal]

NEW YEAR, SAME OLD MISTAKES, lip gallagher

chapter four of borderline, lip x bsf!reader (nickname: MK)

TAGS & WARNINGS → MATURE 18+. angst & fluff, smoking (🍃+🚬), oblivious idiots, adri psychoanalyzing lip, sad reader.

CHAPTER SUMMARY → you're left reeling after a kiss you never saw coming, with a boy who remembers nothing of the night. grappling with the outcome of the karen situation, lip decides to apply to MIT.

A/N → here she is!! got this chapter out quicker than i thought i would honestly. enjoy!!

WC → 2.7k

It’s nearly three in the morning now. After getting Lip to bed and helping Adri clean up from the party, you’ve been relegated to the fire pit in her backyard while you smoke down a prerolled joint from your bag. “Do I really have to?” you ask, only teasing her. “It’s freezing out here.”

“You know how my parents are about that,” she responds, standing a good five feet away as she pulls one of the chairs back. “Don’t care if it’s legal, they’d be pissed if they smelled it.”

You smile in return, taking a deep hit before blowing it out. The warm smoke soothes you, melting away the anxieties you’ve been losing yourself in all day. “They don’t really care if you smoke though? And they’re not even here…”

Adri shrugs. The way you’re avoiding mention of what you’re really out here to talk about doesn’t go unnoticed, but she knows not to push it. She’ll let you come around in your own time, or you’ll share the joint with her and she’ll bug you until you open up. 

Either way, Adri will get to play therapist. She’s looking at you from across the fire pit, the flames keeping the winter chill at bay. You decide to get it out of the way. 

“He kissed me,” you tell her. You take another deep drag, watching her face contort in shock, confusion, and something akin to horror. For everything the night has brought, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at her reaction. 

“Pass me the fucking blunt,” she grumbles, scooting a bit closer. You laugh again, tendrils of smoke spilling from the corners of your mouth. You toss the altoids tin in your lap to Adri, it holds another joint along with your mini lighter. She lights the thing and inhales, wrinkles her nose at the taste of the smoke, and coughs out a question for you. “So, how did that happen huh?”

You stay quiet for a minute, lingering in the warm feeling in your chest. “I don’t know, really. He kinda just… did?” Your eyes meet Adri’s as you take another hit, fingers pinching the filtered end. She gives you that look, and you know you have to elaborate. “I was telling him that I’ll always be there for him,” you add, voice quieter this time. 

Her brow pinches and you can tell she’s thinking, running over any and every concept she’s learned in her pursuance of psychology that could explain tonight’s events. Despite your aversion to studying the subject, you appreciate Adri’s encyclopedic knowledge and rational nature, it keeps you grounded. 

“Loss for words? Or is the joint already kicking your ass,” you tease.

Adri shakes her head, “he didn’t say anything? Just kissed you?” She takes a hit from the joint and the smoke goes down easier this time.

“He was kinda yellin’ at me?” you tell her, watching as Adri rolls her eyes. “he said don’t you ever leave me, and then he kissed me”

Adri hums, nodding slowly. “Do you think he loves Karen? Or, do you think he loves you.”

Your brow furrows at the mention of her name, thinking back on the events of the night. Lip’s cold fingers wrapped around your arm, warm lips on yours. The way he tasted like whiskey. And regret. The way his body curved into yours, pressing into your heat as he kissed you. The way you kissed him back. 

“Adri, I love him,” you admit. You’ve never said it aloud before. As you bring the joint to your lips you feel a shiver run down your body, not from the cold. You love Lip Gallagher. God, you’re in deep.

The two of you are quiet for a moment longer, the relative silence of the night shrouds you. The only sounds are that of the cold breeze, the crackling of the fire pit, and your breathing. You miss the inner city for a moment, the bustle and noise, it’s never quiet. Even at this hour. You never feel alone.

“So theres this thing called attachment theory.” You raise an eyebrow and she continues. “He was neglected as a child, yeah?”

“Jesus Adri–”

“Stay with me,” she urges, taking a hit before stubbing out the blunt on the chair’s arm. Careful fingers place it back into your altoids tin along with the lighter. “When children aren’t given what they need in early development, they form a disorganized attachment style. You’ve always been secure for him,  and he doesnt know how to tell�� between his feelings for you and for Karen.”

You scowl, tucking your knees up in the chair and holding your hand out for the tin. If Adri won’t finish that joint, you sure as hell will. You need it more than she does anyway. Another deep inhale of the bitter, citrusy smoke numbs the butterflies in your stomach long enough to ask quietly, “so, he probably doesn’t feel the same?”

She shakes her head, “that’s not what I said. All I’m saying is that, especially with the baby in the mix, he’s got this sort of cognitive dissonance going on. Theres you, and theres Karen, and there was supposed to be a baby. I’m sure fatherhood is important to him?”

You nod along, remembering the videos he was taking for his unborn son, the sweet smile on his face when he talked about painting a nursery for Karen, the baby sneakers he bought in preparation. You know in your heart that Lip is more devastated that he’s ever been.

“There’s a sense of responsibility too, to step up and be a father, no matter the situation. He got so attached to the idea that he didn’t know what to do when it fell apart.”

You sigh, head resting in your hand as you think it over. You understand, his life hasn’t been easy. You know how much he wanted this baby, and how much he wanted to make a life with Karen. You scowl. “He was forcing it, though.” Now it’s Adri’s turn to nod along, “she’s not right for him, and I’m right here, I’m right in front of him and I have been for years. But he doesn’t see it.”

Her lips purse and you let her think, smoking down the joint, it’s nearly finished now. “Well, I wouldn’t say you’re right in front of him.”

You roll your eyes, “Adri–you know I love you–are you blind? We see each other every day, literally. I don’t think I’ve gone a week without him since I was five years old.”

“You haven’t said anything though, have you?” she asks. You’re silent in return. “Exactly. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. ”

“What–” you swallow, your throat thick. You pretend it’s from the smoke, you pretend you don’t understand. “What does that mean?”

You know you’re lying. Adri knows you’re lying. You wait to see if she’ll call your bluff.

“He looks at you like you hung his moon and stars,” she tells you bluntly, deep brown eyes locking with yours. “He doesn’t want to ruin what you two have, and neither do you. You’re stuck in between.”

It hits you sharply, an overwhelming feeling flooding your body while a lump forms in your throat. Statistically, there are few outcomes where he stays. Where your relationship stays, or changes for the better. Many, many roads seem to lead to a desolate end. To growing apart, to never speaking again, to watching the boy you love stay trapped in the wrong relationship. Your eyes well with tears. 

“I don’t– I-I dunno how to tell him, Adri,” you whisper.

She moves closer to you, standing from her seat to stand at your side. You’ve stubbed out your joint now, flicked the filtered end into the fire pit and watched it burn up. Adri’s hand on your knee grounds you, she comes down into your space and takes one of your hands. “You’re a good person, MK. You’re an empathetic person. But you need to protect your heart. If you let him keep it for too long, it could end up shattered.”

[divider]

By four, Lip is awake and apologetic. By five, the two of you are sitting on your roof, sharing a cigarette. A small space heater in your window blows warm air onto your backs, and your head is tilted up to the sky. 

“Y’know, that’s the first time I ain’t had a new years kiss since I was… thirteen, I think?”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, reminding yourself you saw it coming. He has a tendency to drink until his brain shuts out the memories. He’s done it over lesser blights.

“Don’t really care about your romantic prospects, Gallagher,” you snap, holding out your hand for the cigarette. 

Lip passes it to you silently, he looks hurt. You don’t apologize. 

“Yeah well,” he scoffs after a moment’s time. “You’ll be happy to know shit’s done with Kar– Karen.” The way he stumbles over the fond nickname doesn’t go unnoticed either. “I’m not pickin’ up when she calls. That is if she calls, psycho cunt.”

You roll your eyes and take a drag from the cig he handed you. You lean back until your shoulders rest on the roof tile. You relax your body for the first time in a while, comforted by the moon above you. It wouldn’t be so bad it he was close by, if Lip used his potential here in Chicago. “You know, you could always apply–”

“What if I went to MIT?” he blurts out. You’re sure you’re hearing things. 

You force yourself to take a deep breath first. Four counts in and four counts out, like you’re at the barre again. Years later, the training sticks with you. “Massachussets. Lip, that would be…” you trail off, swallowing thickly and taking a drag of the woody smoke before passing the cig back. The end was burning your fingers anyway. “That would be amazing. Have you finished the application?”

Lip stubs out the cigarette, his fingers itching for another only to meet the memory of his empty pack. He shakes his head. “You got a cig? Chainsmoking helps the hangover.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff, you move the heater to crawl through your window, then beckon him back inside. He knows to lower the window to a crack when stepping back in, slumping into one of the two chairs you keep by your window. You think briefly on how you’ve always needed that second chair, lip over to smoke at your house just as often as you were at his. A constant presence. You’ll miss him. 

You hold out your pack of american spirits, turquoise. Lip wrinkles up his nose but takes the thing anyway, “these taste like fuckin’ cardboard MK.” 

At least after everything that happened last night, he’s still the same old Lip. That’s good, you tell yourself. It’s not convincing. 

You just roll your eyes and hold up your lighter, flicking it on as you draw your faces closer together to light both cigs at once. After a drag to soothe your nerves you tell him, “you have a personal statement from your UChi app, right?” You turn toward your desk and open your laptop, sitting it on your thighs as you cross your legs. “And your SAT records?”

Lip nods, “yeah I got ‘em, saved on my school account I think?”

You pass your computer to him then stand up. “Okay. I’m gonna get some snacks, and then we’re gonna get that application done.” His face lights up at the mention of food. “And then we need to finish our packets for AP Lit.” You giggle at the way he rolls his eyes, heading downstairs to find something to whip up. 

The next few hours tick by with comfortable conversation, mini pancakes, and plenty of application questions from Lip. He’s so unaware about some of these things, you wonder how his other applications looked. Well, application. Singular. From what you know, he’s only applied to UChi. And only under your encouragement.

At 6:53 Lip closes your laptop and stretches his limbs, finally finished. The sun is rising outside your windows, and your head lays in his lap. You’d moved down to the living room about half an hour ago, setting up a tray table for the laptop and switching on the TV. Your eyes were fluttering closed a mere ten minutes later, and your head had slumped to his shoulder soon after. You wake when he cards his fingers through your hair, mumbling to you.

“Hey, wake up. Look here,” he shows you an email on his phone, confirming his application was submitted. 

You rub at your eyes groggily, but a smile graces your lips. “Mm, proud of you,” you murmur, sitting up and stretching. “We can go to bed now?”

Lip nods, then wraps his arms around you. “Living in Massachusetts could be nice, I think. Thanks f’everything, MK. Gonna get home, but I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Slumping back onto the couch after he lets go, you nod sleepily. “Mmhm, AP Lit. homework.” You peer up at him as he ruffles your hair with one hand, the other pulling a cig from your pack before tossing it back to you. You ache a bit, watching as he leaves with a little salute.

Only when the door clicks shut do the tears begin to fall. 

Weeks pass one after the next, anxiously waiting for your college decisions. On a chilly March morning you wake in the Gallagher’s living room. Lip is already awake, fixing up something for his younger siblings. You rise from your spot in the recliner, closing the legs and stretching your aching limbs. You shuffle into the kitchen and steal a strip of bacon from the plate on the counter. 

“Can’t believe you let me sleep all night in that chair,” you tease, directed at Lip as you cover Liam’s little ears with your hands to add, “fuck you for that.”

Lip just scoffs, “yeah you’d love that,” he teases, and you open the fridge to hide the embarrassed flush on your cheeks. “Looked real comfy, didn’t wanna wake you. It was like two in the morning anyways.”

At that moment Debbie steps in the door from checking the mail. She screams Lip’s name, making him jump as she runs up, waving a thick red and black envelope. “It’s for you! Look!”

The fridge is closed just as quickly as you opened it, anxiously peering over his shoulder as he fumbles to open the envelope. “Shit! You do it MK, I can’t look.” When he passes it over you notice he’s trembling. With careful hands you tug at the opening flap, pulling out a folder with a letter enclosed. 

You read from the paper, “Phillip Gallagher, congratulations on your acceptance to Massachusets Institute of Technology!” 

You watch Lip’s eyes go wide, fingers reaching for the paper. He scans it over then continues where you left off. “Additionally, you have been selected to receive our presidential scholarship for academic achievement… which will cover the full cost of tuition.”

You hear quick thumps as Fiona and Ian clamber down the stairs. “You got in?” the older asks excitedly.  

“I-I got in… And I got a fuckin’ scholarship,” he states in awe. 

Before Lip can register, Fiona is throwing her arms around him. “Knew you could do it, look at you, a Gallagher goin’ to college!” She holds him at arms length, tears welling in her eyes.

When she finally lets him go, Lip turns to you with a proud smile. “I did it, MK.”

You swallow thickly, forcing a smile. “I’m so proud of you, Lip,” you tell him, pulling him in for a hug of your own. When you pull away you wipe tears from your eyes, hoping the assumption will be that they’re tears of joy. “Gotta go home, get dressed an’ all that. I’ll see you at school.”

You walk quickly from the room, hand covering your mouth to conceal a sob the moment you step out into the morning chill. You’re happy for him, really, you are. But your stomach twists in knots at the thought. You’d applied to a few schools, but your eyes were set on UChi from the beginning. Beautiful campus, and close enough to come home if you wanted. Staying in your city will be nice, but reality has started to settle in. 

It’ll still be your city, just without your best friend. You wonder if it’ll feel emptier. 

© gallaghersgal, 2024.

THX 4 READING → this chapter is dedicated to @ariiireads, and is 100% un beta'd :D

[thebearer]

Throughout the show esp in the beginning we see the Gallagher having each others back and the older ones are always protective over the younger ones so just thinking about how lip’s three boys would be with Amelia 😭😭 like she comes home crying from school one day cause someone pulled on her pigtails and her brothers come after the little boy and warn him to stay away. She doesn’t only have lip wrapped around her finger but her brothers as well. Like sure they’ll fight with each other and get on each others nerves but once someone else messes with one of them it’s over.

as much as they fight, and they do, that's their baby sister. they'd ride out for her.

i feel like freddie would be a good seven or eight years older than her just bc (following the show but eliminating tammy lol) he was a whoopsie. jude is two years younger than freddie and five years older than amelia, and ronan (we agreed on ronan right??? lmk if we didn't i don't think we've established baby boy number three) is fourish years younger than jude only a yearish older than amelia (bc she was a total and complete whoopsie).

but amelia rides the bus with ronan in elementary school. she's a little second grader, and he's in third so they sit in different places. he doesn't see until they get off that she's crying. some older boy, in his class, was messing with her.

she's crying in her room, won't tell anyone including you. ronan tells freddie and jude when they're like, "what's wrong with mia?" about the boy, and suddenly, the boys are gonna go outside to play. you don't think much about it until they come home later. jude's nose is bleeding and they're all dirty, like they've been rolling around in dirt. none of them will tell you what happened, not even lip- though he thinks he knows.

the boy's mother calls furiously, telling you that your boys beat her son unprovoked. you know your boys wouldn't do that, but you assure her you'll talk to them. lip offers to, going up to their rooms. gives them the classic "violence isn't the answer" type spiel.

"i don't care if this guy pissed you off, alright? you can't just go around beatin' people because they make you mad. the kids like ten anyways, so ronan, if you got an issue you can't get your brothers-"

"-dad, it wasn't ro. he was picking on mia." jude says.

lip pauses, his face falling. he really thought they were just being stupid like he and ian used to be. getting into shit because they were bored and wanted a fight. not this.

"what?" lip snaps, looking at each of his boys. "what'd he do to mia?"

"he made her cry on the bus." ronan admits. "i didn't see it because i sit on the other side, but she said he was yanking her hair and-and stole her pencil box and broke all her crayons and pencils."

"you didn't say he did that." freddie grit, eyes cutting to ronan's.

"i forgot." ronan shrugged lightly.

"stop." lip held up his hands, looking from boy to boy. "this kid was fuc-messin' with your sister? that's why you beat on him?" all three boys nodded slowly.

lip crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging lightly. "he gonna bother her again?"

"no. we scared him, pops. he pissed himself." freddie grinned proudly.

lip snorted lightly, running a hand over his face. "yeah? ok. well, i take back what i said. none of that shit applies when it's about your sister. good for you takin' care of her. all of you. proud of you." he beamed. "don't tell you mom i said that."

"we won't." jude nodded.

"but if he starts again, you tell me or mom ok? we'll get it handled. gonna call the school anyways and get her moved away from that little shit." lip muttered.

and that he did, calling the school board in true gallagher style and demanding she be moved, which she was. the kid never bothered amelia again, not when he knew the gallagher boys would be after him.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

maybe some people will disagree, but i personally believe that to actually be an apologist/defender of a certain character you have to be able to hold them accountable when they fuck up

[gay-dorito-dust]

I just KNOW that Gallagher is the most amazing pillow. Big man… big pillow… just gonna rest on top of him and take a snooze to destress…

Okay but those hands on your back?? Light scratching or just rubbing up and down?? Literal heaven. Don’t know if I’d rather hide between his neck and shoulder or if I’d rather rest on his chest… choices, choices…

I think he’d happily let himself be resigned to being a pillow for the right person, I think he’d adore the domestic vibes, lounging together at home on the bed, or even one of the couches at the lounge/bar.

I love him. Need to go insane.

You’re not wrong and ngl I need that man to be my pillow like rn cuz work has been something these past fee weeks, and I’ve never been more in need of a Gallagher rn.😂

I’d like to think that besides being a fantastic pillow, he’d be a great massager also with those hands of his. He could work the muscles and get rid of any and all problems you have, and he knows just how much or how little pressure he has to apply too.

Personally I would rest my head in his neck or his chest…or maybe his thighs or stomach. but like you said there’s too many good choices to choose from that requires some deep thought going into 🤣

Either way that man runs warm and he’d be great to cuddle up to in the winter, summer however…probably not as much but that depends on how well you can handle the heat bc I can’t and I’d rather not have anyone touch me during the hotter days of the summer. I get really cranky and agitated about it bc I’m too warm.

I wholeheartedly agree with Gallagher being a lover of the domestic stuff, especially if it’s with the right person, as he’d be more than willing to do just about anything with them and love it regardless. So if they want to lounge on the couch or want to learn how to make drinks, then he’s more than happy to oblige.

Where can I find myself a Gallagher? I need one asap and have a cuddle/Power Nap session.

[valeriianz]

so, i HAVE an idea for something 00's romcommy (thanks to @carnelianmeluha and @wordsinhaled) but as i was writing it, i thought to myself, "but they need backstory!" and what was going to be just a few paragraphs of introspection turned into a 3.3k high school AU set in the 90s. so, have this for now. part 2 will be up whenever i feel like it :)

--------------------------------------------------

“Dream!”

Hob found him in a corner, blending into the shadows and had to laugh as he looked up at the sound of his name. He was wearing black, as usual, with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his tight jeans.

“So glad to see you here.” Hob said as he approached, looking upon his friend with a little less restraint than he typically allowed. The vodka-spiked punch was hitting him hard.

Dream relaxed a modicum, his shoulders visibly drooping as his chin tilted up.

“I am only here because you invited me.”

Hob’s smile only widened as he leaned forward. 

“Then I’m flattered. Do you want a drink?”

Dream shrugged and Hob laughed again, turning halfway and inclining his head for Dream to follow him.

Hob, despite being in with the more popular kids in his grade, wasn’t the biggest fan of house parties. He knew Dream wasn’t either; moreso, in fact. Dream was more likely to be found spending his Friday nights cooped up in the library, nose stuck in a book.

But tomorrow they were graduating from high school, and Hob’s parents weren’t coming back from their anniversary trip until the morning. Which meant this was Hob’s last chance to throw an epic rager. 

Though Derek Gallagher, the star athlete of their high school’s football team, was also throwing a party tonight, so it was less of a rager going on here, and more of a casual hang sesh. Hob couldn’t complain though. At least he liked the dozen or so people in his parent’s house, and at least cleaning up the next day wouldn’t be impossible. And no one had messed with the volume control for the music yet; 90s hip hop and r&b dripping through the entertainment system. 

Hob nabbed a red solo cup and ladled out the sweet drink into it, passing it along to Dream, who took it with a suspicious look before taking a sip.

Dream immediately blanched.

“Oh. That’s awful.”

Hob laughed again before biting his bottom lip. Dream didn’t seem to mind though, his own little smile peeking through.

“You can dilute it with more juice in the fridge, if you want.”

Throughout the evening, Hob tried to keep his attention on more than just Dream at his side, chatting with his fellow classmates and laughing along to stories and jokes, one last go at clearing up the rumor mill.

And though Dream mostly kept quiet, he did acknowledge those who greeted him, congratulated him on getting into a university in England, how fun it was going to be moving overseas, to which Dream hummed and nodded politely.

Hob was the only one who knew the truth: that Dream’s parents were sending him away. That while Dream had been accepted on an academic scholarship, it was only because his family had set it up for him. Had forced him to apply, had paid for his application and was having him shipped off next month, when Dream would turn 18 and they didn’t have to keep him in their house any longer.

What looked like a privileged situation was actually cruel and heartbreaking. Yes, Dream was going to Oxford. That was insane. Yes, his stupidly wealthy parents were paying for his room and board and what tuition the scholarship didn’t cover. But it was only a drop in the bucket for them. They saw Dream’s future more as a promising investment for when they grew old and needed Dream’s career to take care of them. Not as if they had plenty of money stowed away to keep them afloat during retirement and then some. Or plenty of children, for that matter.

And of course to say they had yet another child in some prestigious university didn’t hurt their reputation either.

Hob managed to derail the subject every time it came up, of where everyone else was going to college. It was inevitable, discussing the future with his classmates, given the timing. But Hob could see Dream sinking more and more into himself as the night went on, holding onto his drink more for his hands to be occupied than anything else.

“I know,’ Johanna announced suddenly, hours bleeding into the late evening. “Let’s liven things up a bit.”

She had several hands help clear a large area in the living room as she procured the empty vodka bottle, shaking it with a drunken twinkle in her eyes.

“Truth or dare, motherfuckers.”

The party, which had been dying down, suddenly turned up again. Everyone refilled their drinks and formed a large circle on the floor. 

Dream plopped down next to Hob, folding his legs and throwing a lazy, tipsy smile at Hob. Who had to take another sip of his drink to keep himself from doing something drastic. Like tell Dream how cute he was right now. 

His coal black hair was a mess, sticking up and curling around his ears from the excessive amount of times Dream had run his hand through it. His boots were off, his sock-clad toes wiggling in anticipation. And his blue eyes seemed to shine, reflecting off the Christmas lights Hob had hung around the house for the party.

The game started and everyone played along, turning up the stakes and performing various wacky scenarios that only teenagers were capable of escalating. Cori licked Alex’s eyeball on a dare, erupting a chorus of screams and gags and Alex furiously rubbing his eyes afterward. On a demand for truth, Rachel confirmed the rumor that she’d fingered Johanna under the bleachers freshman year to an absolute assault of jeers and hooting and hollering, causing the extremely rare sight of Johanna flushing scarlet from her ears down to her neck. 

Naturally the game turned racy after that. Dares to kiss and show off hidden tattoos. Truths to admit who fucked whom and what would you do for such-and-such.

Hob feels himself getting warmer. And not to mention Dream, who remained seated next to him during this entire debauchery, becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as the game wore on. Hob could sense him slowly slipping out of the circle, until his knee lightly touched Hob’s hip, instead of where it had been for the better part of half an hour, resting against his thigh.

Hob turned, finding Dream staring down into his empty cup, turning it around and around in his grasp, and had just opened his mouth to comfort him, when Johanna piped up across from him.

“Hob, truth or dare.”

Hob’s head swung forward, eyes falling on the bottle top pointing directly at him. He sniggered softly, taking another peek over at Dream and finding his eyes now on him. Hob gently laid his hand over Dream’s foot, giving it what he hoped was a comforting squeeze before facing Jo again.

Truth be told, Hob was feeling much too invigorated from the alcohol, and he’d been waiting for his time to shine. Hob loved making a spectacle and so let his smile turn into a smirk, meeting Jo’s challenging stare head on.

“Dare.”

A collection of “ooh”s and delighted giggles spread around the circle.

“Good choice, Hobsie.” Her own brown eyes sparkled with mirth. Hob wasn’t sure when Rachel had crawled into her lap, but didn’t let it distract him from her next words. 

“I dare you to…” Jo tilted her chin, tapping it in mock consideration. “Kiss the person the bottle next lands on.”

Oh, easy, Hob thought. About to open his mouth to say so, when Jo spoke up again.

“With tongue.”

“Pfft,” Hob sat up, pushing his chest out. “You’re on.”

He reached forward, licking his lips teasingly as his eyes roamed around the circle of his peers, getting a hand around the bottle and giving it a powerful twirl.

The room went quiet save for a few hushed exchanges and some girls giggling that only made Hob grin flirtatiously. He felt the alcohol in his blood rushing with enough speed to make him dizzy, and the spinning bottle honestly wasn’t helping. But Hob had been patiently waiting his turn all night so watch it he would. 

Soon, all eyes followed the bottle as it began to slow, a hush of anticipation that Hob’s peers had been accustomed to all night falling over the circle once more.

Until the bottle finally stopped, and Hob’s heart along with it.

Because the mouth of the bottle pointed squarely at Dream, sitting right next to him. 

Scattered hollering and clapping filled Hob’s ears as his gaze flicked sideways to his friend, who was staring at the bottle, his posture ramrod straight, his hands no longer fiddling.

Hob swallowed and ignored the jeering and playful jab at his side from Cori, eyes fixated on his friend, his best friend. Who didn’t like going to parties, who only smiled when he meant it, who only complained about his parents stupid and strict rules only if Hob asked, never wanting to appear annoying, or too much, preferring to keep to the shadows.

Dream, who would fold if only Hob gave him his best pout, allowing himself to be tugged along to a concert or arcade with a well timed joke and friendly pestering. Who seemed like such a stick-up-the-ass to everyone except Hob, who only had eyes for him. Hob’s best friend, shy and awkward and a little mean, and so devastatingly handsome it was a wonder Hob hadn’t had the balls to do something about it yet.

It would take something as juvenile as a dare to finally give Hob the excuse to act upon his helpless crush. Though Dream…

Dream hadn’t looked away from the bottle. Bringing his lips in to form a line and. Hob felt his nerves begin to escape from out his ears.

“Hey…” Hob spoke gently, moving his hand to carefully rest on Dream’s knee.

Dream’s gaze snapped to Hob at once, and the look in his eyes made Hob’s stomach drop.

He looked terrified.

Hob’s breath caught in his throat, the air around them suddenly thick with an unidentified tension. 

Cori’s voice popping up over Hob’s shoulder made them both jump.

“C’mon, Morpheus. Hob won’t bite, unless you ask him to!”

Hob sighed loudly, rolling his eyes for the group’s benefit, who eased up with a roll of snickering around them. One time, that happened!

“I–” Dream started, swallowing hard enough for his Adam’s apple to bob harshly. “I’d rather–”

“Just one kiss, Dream,” Hob heard himself say, a little desperate. A little too drunk. “It’ll be really quick…” He felt himself already leaning in and Dream’s lips parted, sucking in an audible breath.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Jo and Cori started the chant, and everyone around them followed suit, egging Hob and Dream on.

The realistic, rational part of Hob’s brain, which was still muddled by cheap vodka, tried to remind Hob that this was just a game, and Dream didn’t have to do this if he didn’t want to. He’d even opened his mouth to say so, amongst the drunken, teenage laughter and clapping in time to the chant.

But what he spoke, instead of insisting they didn’t have to kiss, that they could potentially even revisit this, and Hob’s ego wouldn’t be bruised, thank you very much, was a quiet,

“Please?”

Dream’s brows pinched together, he looked truly torn and Hob couldn’t figure out what that meant, especially as the seconds ticked away. Driving Hob crazy, waiting for permission; verbally or even a single head nod. Hob wet his lips and his stomach did an acrobatic leap as he caught Dream’s gaze flick down to catch the motion, his shoulders visibly rising as he took a breath.

“No.”

Hob blinked and Dream was untangling himself from the floor, standing up so fast he wobbled, and stomped out of the room.

The chanting died down at once. Hob felt himself frozen to the carpet in the surrounding silence. 

Somebody politely coughed. Hob’s gaze found Johanna, who only looked back at him in sympathy, her eyebrows tilted up. 

Humiliation and rejection burned in Hob’s chest, crawling up his neck and making his ears hot. 

Cori clicked his tongue and Hob whipped his head around to glare at him.

“Tough luck, buddy.”

“Shut up,” Hob hissed, feeling all the more embarrassed for it. He splayed his hands flat on the floor, pushing himself up without another look at his classmates, and walked towards where Dream had vanished to with shaking limbs.

—------------------------------------

Hob found him quickly enough, going through the laundry room and out the door that led to the back yard.

“Dream?”

Blue eyes, barely visible in the darkness, rose to find Hob as he made his way down the steps, sitting across from Dream, against the railing, putting distance between them.

Dream looked forward again, his eyes set, face unreadable. Hob hated that he was drunk at the moment because he’d otherwise never chuckle sarcastically like he’s doing now. Hiding the pain, perhaps, hoping Dream can’t see how ashamed he’s feeling, how rejection boils in his blood and even looking at Dream right now, twists Hob’s insides.

“What the hell?”

Dream takes a long breath through his nose, pushing his shoulders back. And says nothing.

“It would have just been a stupid kiss,” Hob goes on, unprompted. Words tumbling out of his mouth like vomit. “You’re my friend. Is the thought of kissing me so disgusting you need to run away?”

Hob feels his eyes begin to sting and throws his head back, smiling derisively. He was about to start crying. Great.

Once he’s gotten himself under control, Hob tilts his head down and finds Dream watching him, his own gaze softened, if only minutely.

His lips part, voice low and quiet. “You misunderstand me.”

“Then I’d love it if you’d explain,” Hob sighs roughly. “Because you just made me look like an asshole in there.”

Dream shakes his head, unfolding his arms over his lap and getting long, pale fingers around his knobbly knees instead.

“The world is ending tonight.” Dream starts cryptically, staring at how his fingers pick at the tears in his jeans. “Tomorrow we graduate. I’m going to England and we’ll never see each other again.” He looks sideways at Hob, who’s holding his breath.

“And you’re still worried about how people perceive you?” He takes a breath. “You choose to spend your last hours getting drunk and playing juvenile games? Instead of…” Dream gaze flits back toward the house, swallowing.

Hob scoots over, closer to Dream. Summer is right around the corner but the night air is cool still, clean and pleasantly quiet. And Dream blends into the darkness like he belongs there, the stars in the cloudless sky, how they light up the darkness along with the moon, giving just enough illumination to see by, to marvel at Dream sitting on Hob’s back porch steps. 

Taking in the wonder that is Hob’s closest friend, beautiful, shy, wicked smart Dream. Hob feels calm fall over him like a blanket. Mulling on Dream’s words, and settling on a response.

“What would you rather be doing?”

Dream finds Hob’s gaze again, and Hob lifts his shoulders, prompting Dream further, but he remains silent. Hob takes a breath, speaking again when Dream doesn’t respond.

“If the world is ending anyway…” Hob starts, licking his bottom lip. “Then just say it.”

Agonizing seconds slip by, where Dream stares at Hob, lips slightly parted, eyes widening.

“I want to kiss you.”

Hob’s heart lurches in his chest and he feels the air leave his lungs. Dream’s voice is so quiet, so fragile, it makes Hob ache.

“But not–” Dream inclines his head slightly, toward the house. “Not like that.”

“Oh…” Hob says eloquently, finding himself petrified once again.

There’s a new tension in the silence that falls between them. Waiting, anticipating. Hob takes a steadying breath and feels like he’s jumping off a cliff.

He gets on hand on the floor between them and leans over, his other hand hovering towards Dream. 

“Can I–?”

“Yes.”

Dream meets him halfway, pressing warm, chapped lips to Hob’s, and holding still. 

It’s sweet, and careful, and when Dream exhales from his nose, the warm air hitting Hob, his lips part to take a breath and Hob lunges forward, getting a hand around the side of Dream’s face and pulling him in. Hob sweeps his tongue along the seam of Dream’s lips once before diving past, pulling a surprised gasp from Dream that turns into a soft groan.

Hob’s fingers caress into the soft strands of Dream’s hair as they kiss, elation popping off like fireworks under Hob’s skin as he finally is able to touch his friend like this. Move his lips along Dream’s with drunken coordination and vigor, putting as much affection and want into the kiss as Hob could, hoping Dream could understand. Could feel how long Hob has wanted to do this. And as they move together, bodies naturally closing the distance between them and Dream’s hands finsting into Hob’s shirt before weaving up and around his shoulders, Hob understands why Dream would rather share this privately, without an audience of their peers gawking.

Because this was real. Years of repressed yearning and feelings bubbling up to the surface and tumbling forth in exchanged breaths and needy whines, Hob’s fingers digging a little harder into Dream’s scalp, Dream’s hands, in response, clawing at Hob’s back, pulling him impossibly closer as his body arched like a bow so their chests bumped and Hob could feel the heat of his friend’s body against his own.

Hob tore his mouth away, taking a ragged breath, stealing it from Dream, before going back in, again and again, little lips-only kisses that elicited the prettiest noises from Dream. Especially as Hob’s lips wanders down his chin and up his jaw, causing his friend to cling tighter to Hob, tilting his head to give Hob better access, breathing through his mouth, the hot air hitting Hob’s ear and driving him wild.

“Dream…” Hob finally spoke, his low voice painted in arousal and causing Dream to shake in his arms. He nipped Dream’s ear before licking it. “Why is this all coming out now?”

One of Dream’s hands went up into Hob’s hair, fingers tangling in the brown locks as he huffed his response.

“I could ask the same of you.”

Hob smiles, but it’s sad. He’s slowed down now, gently nudging his nose underneath Dream’s ear before pulling back, facing him once more.

Dream’s eyes flutter open and Hob feels struck down. He’s never seen Dream’s eyes so dark, his blue iris’ nearly all encompassed by the black of his pupils. Hob, unable to resist now, taps his nose to Dreams, taking a breath.

“I was scared.”

He can hear how Dream swallows.

“Me too.”

They sit like that for a long moment, holding on to one another, breathing each other’s air, savoring the revelation that had just transpired. And knowing it wouldn’t last. 

—-------------

They of course saw each other again at graduation, and throughout the days that followed. Hob prepared to move across the state to his chosen college and Dream prepped to leave the country all together.

Hob offered to drive Dream to the airport on moving day, but Dream shook his head, saying it was already too painful that he was leaving, he didn’t want any lingering looks. Instead Dream’s father took a quick detour to Hob’s house, where Dream stood in Hob’s doorway to say goodbye, and in full view of both their families, all they could do was hug. And Hob put his entire body into it, crushing Dream, who had always been so damn thin and gangly, in his arms and nosing his way into Dream’s hair to take one final, deep inhale.

“We’ll see each other again.” Hob promised, in that hopeful way young people did.

Dream only smiled ruefully, his eyes shining and causing a lump to form in Hob’s throat.

“Promise?”

“Yeah.” Hob nodded, getting his hands around Dream’s face and caressing his thumbs under his eyes and across sharp cheekbones. “You think you can get rid of me that easily?”

Dream huffed out a quiet laugh, the blue of his eyes sparkling.

[starry-nights-17]

Thank you @bawlbrayker for the tag. Let's give this a go!

rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

1: It wasn’t that Mickey was still in the closest, he wasn’t. While it might have taken some time, he was now in a place in his life where he had fully accepted his sexuality. It’s just that he didn’t see the point of shouting it from the rooftops, of dressing up in rainbow coloured shit or painting glitter all over yourself or waving flags like a kid on St. Patrick’s  Day. The drunken assholes he had to deal with on that day were bad enough but today the streets were even louder and more colourful and unreasonably fucking happy. (Lost....or found?)

2:

“You can’t stop me from going dad,” Ian shouted, as he tossed clothes and toiletries into a large back pack.

“I’m about to be announced as the candidate Ian, you need to be here, where I…”

His father, Governor Clayton Gallagher, trailed off and his eyes darted away. Ian snorted because he knew why, “Where you can keep an eye on me, huh”

His father sighed wearily and stepped closer, “It’s not like that Ian, that’s not fair. I worry about you, we all do and this is a crucial time for me, for the whole family. Vice President, you know how much it means to me Ian and how long I’ve wanted this”. (The Secret of Art)

3:

“Jesus Mandy, you look poured into that shit,” Mickey teased, as he took in his younger sister’s outfit for the evening, a skin tight black leather jumpsuit. Unsurprisingly she had left the zip opened, daringly low, exposing her cleavage.

“Least I’m wearing an actual costume shithead; you look pretty much like you do every day”.

He snorted and finished styling his hair before adding the final part of his outfit (he refused to call it a costume).

“Huh, not bad right,” Mickey suggested confidently, as he cocked an eyebrow at her.

Mandy begrudgingly smiled and nodded, “Fine, looks better, least it’s more obvious now”.

“Fuck you bitch, I look badass and you know it. Told you I wasn’t gonna wear fucking gay ass tights or a cape or whatever” (Not All Heroes Were Capes)

4:

“TJ, c’mon, you’re gonna be late for school”

He groaned into his pillow, upon hearing his Dad’s voice grow even louder, as he shouted down the hallway for a second time. TJ knew he was pissed by his tone but his Dad didn’t get it, no one did. School was like his own living hell. His Dad had probably been popular and had fit in, not like TJ. He was the school outcast apparently which made him a prime target for the resident bullies. Not only was he the only kid he knew with a single gay Dad for a parent but he didn’t belong to any of the cliques at school. (Circles)

5:

“Listen up!”

Mickey raised his voice to his students, who had started to pack up upon hearing the bell to indicate the end of class. “Your latest assignment, which is due by the end of next week, is to outline three themes found in Pride & Prejudice and describe how they apply today, if they still do”.

He chuckled as the entire room erupted into a loud groan before they started exiting one by one. “Yeah yeah, I’m an asshole for giving you homework on a Friday, tell someone who cares”. (Parachutes)

6:

Ian gripped the phone tightly in his hand as he sat on the edge of his temporary bed in the dingy roadside motel.

“Mam died, thought you should know” the text read simply. No emotion, no greeting, nothing but the bare minimum, six basic words.

He sniffed back a few tears as he reminisced about the only person he ever truly missed back home in Ireland, his grandmother Margaret or Mags as she preferred to be called. His own mother or at least the woman who had given birth to him had sent him a message for the first time in about a year to inform him of his grandmother’s passing and he supposed it was better than nothing. He felt helpless and paralysed in his grief, however, knowing that he couldn’t do anything about the situation. He couldn’t return home, he couldn’t attend her funeral, if her ungrateful children even bothered to organise one of course. (Growing On Me)

7: Ian marveled as it occurred to him that this was about to be their second Valentine’s Day spent together as husbands. The first one occurred only weeks after they had moved into their first real home together, a place free of Gallagher siblings and run away Milkovich cousins. It was the first place which offered complete privacy and a sense of pride considering it was a real nice apartment on the West Side which they paid for with legally earned wages. They had struggled for a few months upon moving in as their security business was only taking off and they had to spend whatever extra cash they had on furniture and essentials but now they felt stable and so Ian wanted to do something extra special this year for Mickey. (These Little Things)

8:

“Assholes” Mickey muttered to himself as he slammed his front door shut and tossed his jacket on the couch.

He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and gulped down half of its contents immediately. He shook his head knowing that his sister Mandy was going to give him yet another irritating and unwelcome earful. But she had just struck it lucky, she actually liked her job, whereas Mickey wasn’t sure he could ever like any job enough to stick it out. Mostly he figured he just hated people, most people anyway so that instantly ruled out an awful lot of jobs. Customer service, cashier, retail, hospitality, you name it, Mickey had tried it. (Footprints In The Snow)

9:

Ian was giving serious thought to murdering his younger brother Carl and dumping his body in Lake Michigan but he had sworn never to set foot inside a prison cell ever again, luckily for Carl.

For Christmas he had gifted Ian and Mickey a couple’s card game, whereby you could pull out a card at any given moment to use against your partner. Ironically Mickey wasn’t even interested at first, said card games were only worthwhile if there was money involved. But as soon as he opened the packet and started reading through the descriptions on the cards his face had lit up with that typical mischievous smirk of his. (You've Been Served!)

10:

“Jesus Christ Mick” Ian moaned as he pounded into Mickey relentlessly from behind.

His husband was on all fours in front of him on their bed, as Ian dragged his perfectly round and ample ass back towards his hips, over and over. They didn’t always fuck hard and fast but when they did Ian sometimes got completely lost in the act, lost in his husband’s glorious body, almost to a level where he became feral and animalistic. It was as though he couldn’t get enough of him, could never get deep enough, he wanted to consume the man entirely from the inside out. (12 Days of Sexmas)

Conclusion: So I still cringe hard at my grammar, especially on my earlier fics, but given I literally never wrote anything until about a year and half ago I wont sweat it too much. I prefer the dual pov style but that doesn't mean I'm restricted to that format either. And as the last one shows, I clearly love writing smut lol. I honestly find it hard (no pun intended) to write completely smut free works because to me sex is such a big part of their relationship and I particularly enjoy writing flirtatious banter. If I was to be very critical I worry that my style wont evolve much and I really do want to try and push myself out of my comfort zone. Becoming predictable or boring is my worst nightmare!

Just want to end with saying I'm so eternally grateful to anyone who has read my stuff or sent kudos or left comments. It means the world. X

[creamiceandsugar]

i talked previously on how i just love thinking about the paths characters are and what it means about their character or story and nothing makes it more obvious than going "of course, what else but erudition" at jade, realizing I forgot to even register what path firefly is but going "uuuh, destruction. what else could she be" and just checking for confirmation.

so i guess i'll loosely define what personality traits i personally think each path represents (very very loosely bc it really does depend on the character and there's a wide spectrum for interpretation. i'll put some examples). and right away i'll tell you i do not have harmony figured out. it's the hardest path. like, i'll try, but i am not confident.

also i'll say this, none of these "personality traits" are inherently good or bad. like for erudition i used the word "manipulator" bc i have no other word i can put down but i dont meant it in a bad way. jing yuan manipulates people all the time but it's generally for the greater good.

destruction: pretty literal. linked to destructive behavior (hook) or destruction of others and/or the self (blade/firefly). dan heng IL is so neat because technically he is so non-confrontational and doesn't Want to be destructive but it's his past self that carries it over. like, he can't escape it, it still haunts him and that is why his true path is destruction. delicious, right? also destruction of bonds (unwillingness to reconnect with jing yuan etc.) clara is the hardest to interpret but if you got a big robot with you that fires lasers then idk what to tell you

erudition: chess players, manipulators, "genius/smart". do i need examples? it's so self explanatory. easiest path to interpret for real. i think argenti is the weirdest one to be erudition, but we also dont know much about him yet and i think he's plenty smart and manipulative just. in a very eccentric way?

hunt: "has a goal to follow" in the simplest terms. very narrowed in on that goal. stubborn. (yanqing wants to get stronger, dan heng wants to be free/escape his past etc. etc.)

nihility: disconnected from people or the world around them. (in different ways. welt is from a different dimension and guinaifen works mainly online but both disconnects them from the people around them. which doesnt mean they cant form bonds or care about people)

preservation: very simple and obvious but a protector type. "by the book" (doesn't cheat). upfront. (you'd think aventurine would be the outlier but i maintain that he's more honest than people expect him to be and he hates cheating. so he plays by the rules even if he bends them and he HAS a protective instinct. i personally actually think march is the outlier here who's a bit hard to pin down but what can you expect from a girl who doesnt even really know herself)

abundance: researcher type. fascinated with humanity in one way or another. (so so hard to pin them down but i think this fits broadly, at least for now, even for gallagher. may change the more abundance characters we get. dont mention huo huo, Please, she's like a harmony/abundance hybrid anyways. and she IS fascinated with humanity ok, fascinated how confident her coworkers are anyways)

harmony: bro please, idk. look at the characters we have and tell me what they have in common. i'm dying i'm in the desert and i have no water. i WOULD have said administrators/bureaucrats who are willing to take on responsibility but then sparkle happened so i don't know anymore. also she's playing a character so what do we REALLY know about her. how about "puts their all into things". "commits"(to the bit). that feels vaguely right.

so anyways this is what i have so far. i've thought more about some than others, obviously, i have my favorite characters, but i think this can at least for now broadly apply.

[lupeloto]

💭 wednesday tag game 💭

i was tagged by @creepkinginc @michellemisfit @energievie @ardent-fox @such-a-barbarian for this super fun tag game!!!

name: laurel🌿

age: 21🦔

location (globally): us

location (physically): air mattress

favourite Food to Eat: a sub sandwhich always

favourite food to cook: is none of them an option?

will you be attending @too-schoolforcool’s ☀️ Kitchen Shenanigans🍴with Cherry on the 6th july? i will try to! all of these little events are soooo cute

what’s your zodiac: gemini ♊️

will you be attending @heymacy’s ☀️ Astrology 101: More Than Just Your Sun Sign ☀️ lecture on the 13th july? hopefully!!

(check @gallavich-fic-club’s lesson plan for details)

now let predictive text complete each sentence for you after the 💭

my age is 💭 is not my height (very insightful)

my favourite animal is 💭 the dog (very true!)

i love to cook 💭 with you guys (im sure it’s a blast!)

i love to eat 💭 and eat with my family

i have a lot of ideas about 💭 the game but i’m just gonna go for the original game (good plan good plan)

i have no clue 💭 how you got this picture of me (oh… you have some explaining to do)

my dream career is 💭 now a reality check (alright that hits a little too close to home pack it up)

my favourite character on shameless 💭 is a guy who thinks he is the only person in the world (who do we think it is? guess in the comments i have a few ideas)

debbie gallagher is 💭 the only person i can trust (im not so sure about that one…)

carl gallagher is 💭 the only person i can think of that could have done it (i feel like this applies to several shameless scenarios)

mandy milkovich is 💭 the most beautiful person on the planet (no les were told that’s my girl right there)

mickey milkovich is 💭 my favorite person in the whole world but he has no clue how much he makes me feel (okay………………might have chosen from all three suggestions to create this masterpiece bc it is true. he is my baby forever and ever my favorite man in the world)

ian gallagher is 💭 an amazing artist who is so much more talented than you (truth)

to me ian and mickey are 💭 both the best people on earth (well yes precisely! i love this game!)

gallavich means 💭 i can get a new one in the morning. [when the sex experiment goes wrong, i guess.]

i wish anyone who reads this to 💭 understand that this isn’t about me (preach humble queen)

i’ll tag @jademickian @softmick @depressedstressedlemonzest @lingy910y @gallawitchxx @heymrspatel @darlingian @krysmiss if you’d like to join!!!!

[cordeliahrose]

Aphrodite

Content warning: Because of the deity being discussed in this post, there are talkings of sex and sexuality under the cut.

Who is Aphrodite?

Aphrodite is the Greek goddess of love, beauty, desire, passion, pleasure, sexuality, fertility, and procreation. She has many epithets, or titles, that relate her to other aspects as well.

Antheia - The blooming, Friend of flowers

Anadyomene - She who rose from the sea

Ambologera - Delayer of old age

Aphrogenea - Foam born

Apostrophia - Expeller of sinful desires

Areia - The warlike

Callipygos - Of the beautiful buttocks

Charidotes - Giver of joy

Elikoblepharus - She with fluttering eyelids

Eleemon - Merciful

Eratoplucamus - Lovely haired

Gamelia - She who resides over marriage

Morpho - The fair shaped, Of shapely form

Nicephorus - Bringer of victory

Ourania - Heavenly

Pandemos - Common to all people, Of all people

Panmorphilos - Lover of all shapes

Peitho - Persuasion

Pontia - Of the sea

Philomeides - Laughter loving

Philopaneia - Lover of all

These are just some of her many names. She has many more epithets, including newer ones applied through UPG and modern practice.

Aphrodite and the Moon

This section is entirely UPG

I associate Aphrodite with the moon, more specifically, the moon's cycle. I do not see her as *the* moon goddess, but rather as having an aspect of the moon. I see her as the cycle the moon follows. There’s a few factors that contribute to this UPG of mine.

The first being that the moon’s cycle and a woman’s cycle are roughly the same length in time. I guess here it’s important to note that I am female, and a part of my work with Aphrodite has been centered around that. 

The second is that the moon controls the tides. Aphrodite is considered a sea goddess. But my association goes a little deeper than that. I have always heavily associated the ocean and its movements with Aphrodite, beyond just her usual ‘risen from the sea’ aspect. I don’t see her as the personification of the sea, or *the* ocean deity, but as the movements of the ocean. The waves, the tides, the things washed up on the shore in the waves, the feeling of a wave pulling and pushing the water as you stand in it. \

I really began to understand this association when I started working with the moon phases, and learning about how to live and plan by them. A book I highly recommend to learn about this subject is Lunar Living by Kirsty Gallagher.

Offerings for Aphrodite.

Chocolate

Honey

Fresh Fruits

Cherries

Apples

Olive oil

Water

Apple juice

Wine, especially red

Teas infused with herbs associated with her

Or just any tea

Fruit and/or herb infused water

Roses

Jasmine

Myrtle

Cinnamon sticks*

Orchids*

Love letters (to yourself, or to someone else)

Jewelry

Seashells

Devotional Acts

Self care

Morning / night beauty routines

Write love letters to yourself or to someone else

Visit the ocean if possible

Practice gratitude

Practice self confidence

Listen to music that makes you feel confident

Listen to music that reminds you of Aphrodite

Practice self acceptance

Tell your loved ones you and appreciate them

An act of kindness toward a stranger

Give compliments to yourself or to someone else

Watch a romance movie

Read Sappho’s poetry

Read poetry about love, romance, or sexuality

Read poetry dedicated to her

Explore your sexuality

Learn about the important of practicing safe sex

Pleasure yourself

Read a romance novel 

Read an erotica novel

Care for your mental and physical self

Learn about the ocean

Read her myths

Read modern retellings of her myths

Write retellings of her myths

Write poetry or song dedicated to her

Practice cyclical living (by the moon phases)*

Practice sea focused witchcraft

Dance

Create a playlist dedicated to her

Meditate and ask her to be present

Other Aspects of Aphrodite

People often forget, especially with the more popular and well known deities, that they can have aspects most would view as negative. 

Aphrodite isn’t just the goddess of love and beauty. She also resides over the negative aspects of her associations. Jealousy, obsession, clinginess, heartbreak, self-centeredness, manipulation. 

 This isn’t to say that working with her will bring those things. You can work with her to get past these things or move them out of your life just as you would any other aspect of her. 

Anything in this post marked with the symbol * means that it is my own UPG