#mickey and his flowers

[wrinkly-fucking-qtip]

Gallavich Headcanon (almost a meta): Ian and Mickey befriend a Hispanic old lady with a family-owned flower shop [Pt. 1/3]

So I created these scenarios in my head... if someone wants to write a fic about it, better than I could. But, after receiving that awful treatment from the old lady at the shop in 10x11, I believe Ian and Mickey (especially Mickey) deserve a nice old lady that sells flowers and just... bonds with them y'know?

I don't have it all figured out, but they're at Southside again at this point. I'm part of the club that believes they don't stay in the west side forever. In my head (fuck the felony) Ian is either nurse, EMT again, whatever, something in that area, not working with Mick anymore. Although, Mick's business is thriving so much cause our boy gots the smarts for business.

Basically, it's Mick going in this shop, defenses a little high up. He no longer cares that much if people in the Southside are blatantly homophobic, like, it takes a while now to ruffle his feathers with beautiful wisdom coming down on him. But y'know, something about old ladies in a flower shop, am I right? He's buying flowers for Ian (part of some stupid dynamic or inside joke, don't know, but he's being traditionally husbandly right now) and he's looking for bright candid ones, warm colors, as warm as his ginger husband.

The old lady catches sight of him, and with this very thick Puerto Rican accent trying to dance around a broken English, she just greets him and asks him if he's looking for anything in particular. Mick... loosens up? Not much... but he feels it. She seems warm, safe. Nice. He just mentions "warm toned flowers," something fiery, but delicate. Pretty. He mindlessly points at the color of a table top close to them. Important to know that he uses his left hand, so that ring is oh-so visible.

She goes something along the lines of "Oh! You buy something for your señora? Esto, the wife?" I will forever die on the hill that Mickey does know Spanish, not that the lady knows this, but, y'know, she's Hispanic, some Spanish words go along the way. He looks at his ring and considers if he should say.

"No, uh, husband- actually."

This old lady doesn't light up, but she doesn't react badly... just... carries the conversation as if the sky continues to look blue. "Ohh! Ok, ok, show me picture then! I can make suggestion if I see what he look like, or what he dress like." And she sounds earnest, which, frankly, took him aback. Mickey kind of eyes her questioningly, perhaps she runs with a user persona? Mix match appearance with potential products?

Anyway, he proceeds, shows him a selfie with him, and a mid shot he took without Ian knowing. She eyes the pics for a few seconds and she just excitedly raises her voice, Mick still trying to get adjusted to it all, she tells him she understands why the warm colors and stuff, cause this husband is a ginger. She walks him through the selections and he ends up picking a bouquet, one along the lines of a warm cinnamon spice.

They have a lovely goodbye exchange, Mick still somewhat serious but kind, this old lady oozes warmth. She invites him to come back whenever, maybe even bring the husband along. He nods goodbye. He tells Ian all about it, surprising him first obviously, but he shares this... odd interaction he had today... and how... nice? It felt?? He's still trying to figure it out... Ian thanks him for the flowers, they have a lovely evening together. Life is good he thinks, perhaps.

.

It's Ian's turn now, he just has to meet this old lady. He goes in, and he finds the place, the old lady is behind the counter, so she has sight towards the door. She greets him, and he has the pleasure to hear her accent. And she's just so bubbly, he comes to her, trying to bite down a grin. Ian, not being much about the flower guy, yet (but loves receiving them ����) he asks for the stargazer lillies, the lady puts a dramatically sad face and tells him she's out of stock, as soon as the came, they left.

A little disappointed, ofc, but he still goes and asks for other options similar. Ian has his hands on his pockets, but the lady asks "what's the occasion?" And he says, "Husband" and with a stammer "Um, Mickey? You might've- uh... Met him? A week back...? Black hair, blue eyes... Short?" The lady is truly trying to recall, and then she brightens up. Not only cause she remembered Mick, but because she just realized he's the guy in the pic! And oh how she glees.

She walks through the options, he buys a bouquet, gains a lovely interaction, and he finally understands Mick when he says something about this old lady just feels... warm... at ease.

This wouldn't be the last time they visit.

And they actually gather quite the like to her.

[heymrspatel]

bartender ian seeing mickey walk in through the doors of The Rosewood Brewhouse

🍺🌷more florist mickey and bartender ian!🌷🍺 more flowers and brews drabbles here! @deedala's companion florist mickey art here! 💙✨

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

can you do a hockeyplayer!geto x reader au drabble plsssss 🙏🙏 ???

HOCKEY PLAYER!SUGU MY BELOVED <3333 i’d like to write for him someday…. i have no idea when though. my sugu wips are piling up as it is 😭

but …. wahhh. he’s just so good? your soft, polite academic boyfriend who turns into a BEAST on the field. he doesn’t play dirty, obviously, but he’s just. rough. he plays to win. and every time he scores a goal you catch a glimpse of his wide, giddy grin, all teeth. he’s like …. a big wolf . you know? and then as soon as he’s off the field he’s shooting you a warm smile and a kiss + heading to the showers so he can hug you properly once he’s all clean.

after winning a particularly important game he just scoops you up and spins you around though … he’s all sweaty and his heart is beating so fast you can hear it and he lets out this breathy, raspy laugh. he’s just so excited and giddy and running on adrenaline and he’s crushing you a little but you can’t seem to mind. he’s delighted. it’s a good look on him.

… yeah . he’s just very good

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

@teddybeartoji

idk how to bg anymore

[describe-things]

Making this its own post to further spread the correct information.

The name Mickey Mouse is Public Domain.

Trademark is a separate thing from copyright. Trademark means you can't trick people into thinking your version of Mickey Mouse is sanctioned by Disney.

You do not need to rename Mickey Mouse to use this character.

He's literally named in the title card (along with two alternate outfits for him and Minnie that are also Public Domain, which means, yes! You can give him gloves!).

The only way the name "Mickey Mouse" would still be copyrighted would be if he hadn't been named yet in Steamboat Willie, which very clearly isn't the case, because his name is the largest thing on the title card:

[ID: A screenshot from the Web Archive’s video player showing the video paused at 00:04, showing the title card that reads:

“Disney Cartoons presents A Mickey Mouse sound cartoon: Steambie Willie, A Walt Disney comic by UB Iwerks, recorded by Cinephone system, copyright MCMXXVIII”.

On either side of the text are Mickey and Minnie, smiling at eachother. Mickey is holding up a hat in one hand, and a cane in the other with a wide grin of greeting. He has a white face, a buck tooth in his open mouth, white gloves, and light grey shoes and shorts, with the shorts having dark buttons and darker vertical stripes. Minnie has her hands clasped as she smiles at Mickey with lowered eyelids in a flirting pose. She has the same hat as mickey, with a flower stick behind it. She has two circles on her chest like a bra or bow, with a polkadot skirt with a wavy edge. She is wearing light grey heels. End ID.]

There is also a public domain poster with color, which means this design is also Public Domain. And again, this one also names him Mickey Mouse -- making the name Mickey Mouse Public Domain! And this alone would have made the name Public Domain even if he hadn't been named in Steamboat Willie! And, he again has gloves!

[ID: A color poster reading, "Celebrity Productions Inc. Present a Mickey Mouse Sound Cartoon. A Walt Disney comic drawn by UB Iwerks. The World's Funniest cartoon character, a sensation in sound and synchrony.". Mickey is drawn with one hand on his hip and the other in the air. He is wearing yellow gloves with a button in the center of the palm, red pants with white buttons, and large brown boots. He has a red blush on his nose and cheek. His tongue is red, and his black pupils have a white triangle on the side. The background is pale tan. End ID.]

There is also literally nothing stopping anyone from giving any of these characters new color designs with entirely new outfits. That's what the Public Domain is for. Don't think you can only use these characters in black and white, you just can't use versions that Disney still owns the copyright to.

[spicy-buttfuck]

you are free now. freer than you've ever been.

it's scary, huh?

you can drink, you can swear, you can be gay if you want.

you can find out being gay isn't really your fit, but you were free to try.

or maybe it is, and now you can kiss anyone.

you can try on clothes they never let you before.

you can be angry, you can carry a knife.

you can be loud, you can carry flowers.

you can be mean. you can be kind. you can deny god and all He was.

you can spend a quiet evening at home, you can have sex.

you can love yourself and hate yourself and do anything.

you don't have to give a single shit about "family values."

you can be anything.

you are free.

you are freer than you've ever been.

freer than they ever wanted you to be.

[ID: A animation of Mickey Mouse staring forward above the camera with a cloudy blue sky in the background, the lines moving slightly as the sun reflects off his pupils. His expression is awed and maybe a little frightened. He has white shorts and a black and white tall cap. End ID.] courtesy of @describe-things

[leikeliscomet]

(Reposting from twitter)

My POV as a Black fan that thinks Dot and Bubble's racism commentary is trash

Rewatched Dot and Bubble and I'm gonna break down from my POV as a Black fan why this episode didn't work for me & why it's an awful racism commentary. Long arse post incoming:

The whole "You should've noticed the cast was all white except for fifteen ha your bias is showing" doesn't work for a show that's been predominantly white for 60+ years. D&B casting has been the default for most of the show so its not abnormal enough to be a racial litmus test. An example is the Matt Smith era The only reoccurring character of colour in s5 (2+ appearances) is Liz 10. Artie n Angie in s7. 0 in s6. RTD's own era isn't fully safe either. For many eps Martha or Mickey are the *only* Black characters. Most POC are side characters or extras.

White fans should be aware of the predominantly white casting of the show but this late in the game feels cheap. Most of the show has gone through 100% white episodes including fan faves and it was never an issue back then bc it was beneficial. This is so hollow. Representing racists as cartoon caricatures SEVERLY underestimates the danger of white supremacy irl. White supremacy is system designed and constructed and rebranded over centuries. It is not accidental. People aren't racist bc they don't know they're racist because they *do* They know the system that oppresses POC, Black people especially, benefits them socially and financially and that is why they participate. Its not stupidity it's intention. That should've been the Finetime core not Lindy goofing around bc the arrows are gone or some shit.

Human Nature showed us racist young people that exercised this power bc they knew this. They may be children but they are still dangerous bc of their views. Martha knew this. The silly tech obsessed gen z angle erases this danger and that of actual gen z white supremacy

Instead of the camp goofy tone we could've gotten a serious focused episode. The slugs and millenial/gen z social media silly distracts from what could've been the main theme of colonisation instead of saving it for 10 mins of exposition at the end & scattering microaggressions. Saving Fifteen's racism scene for a goofy episode was a horrid idea. Spending 30 mins on representing racism as silliness then giving a dramatic dangerous score is the definition of tonal whiplash. Representing his oppressor as a blonde bimbo again does not take this seriously. Fifteen went to 1960s BRITAIN & got through it unscathed. Finetime is a fictional futuristic land but the racism of 1960s Britain was real. If anytime was right it could've been Devil's Chord. Distancing yourself from a panto villain is easy but addressing your history is hard.

The scene itself is incredibly performed so I'll give Ncuti his flowers but what he used this skill for could've been so much more. Having his FIRST SCENE begging to save a racist is disgusting. It isn't Black people's responsibility to show compassion to people that want us dead. Yes the Doctor helps the baddies bc they care. But they're aren't ignorant to prejudice. The liberal anti racism of who is so jarring and why I still think Thin Ice is performative. When white people are angry at injustice it's radical. When it's Black people we're aggressive.

Respectability politics is a tool of white supremacy. That if one pleads and is nice enough they can earn liberation. What would white fans think of Fifteen if he DIDN'T beg Lindy? If your allyship with Black people depends on showing kindness to racists you are NOT an ally.

Next up is Ricky. It was established ALL Finetime citizens have white supremacist views yet Ricky September stans refuse to see him in any negative light. Just like Joan Redfern white dw fans refuse to see racism if a character is likeable. If nice guy Ricky's a racist, then anyone no matter the niceness can be racist too and that's a pill white fans aren't ready to swallow. If racism is systemic and not about individual character, then what's keeping them safe? What happens when YOU are under the microscope.

THIS is why we NEED Black writers in Doctor Who. The nuances, depth and complexity of the Black experience can only be told at it's best by Black creatives and not guessed, assumed or spoken over by white fans and white writers. It's okay to put ego aside and say you don't get it.

"Im white but I loved the Doctor's reaction" "I'm white and i thought the racism commentary was great" "I'm white but i-" Yet again, we have to sit through another round of white and non Black fans of colour dictating Black representation for us. I'm so fucking tired man. AGAIN IM YELLING FROM MY HILLTOP TO WATCH SHOWS BY BLACK WRITERS. Almost EVERY single theme in Dot and Bubble and frankly most of the show has been done WAY better in other media. RTD is not the authority on Black stories. We are. Always have been and always will.

Tl;dr Dot and Bubble is an unserious and tacky racism commentary. It's core message is drowned by more RTD Who camp. Don't tell me this episode was good at representating my own experience. It wasn't. S15 having Black writers isn't a need it's a must. Goodbye.

Reblog this version pls

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ Bakugo goes with you to Disney world!

『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ✩ content; fun & fluffy fluff, soft bakugo  ⇢ katsuki bakugo masterlist ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — I was visiting family in Florida and wanted to spread some magic to my favorite. 💕

The flares of the Florida sun beat down on your exposed skin, humidity wrapping around your body like a blanket. The thin coat of sweat under your clothes wasn’t going to ruin your mood, but it definitely might ruin your boyfriend’s.

“Fuck, s’hot,” Bakugo grumbles, taking off his hat to wipe the sweat gathered on his forehead with the back of his free hand. “Knew you said it’d be a sticky heat, but goddamn. We haven’t even gotten in’ta the park yet and I’m dyin’.”

“Sorry babes, it’ll be better once we’re off the ferry,” you reassured, knowing that the trip across the water to the main entrance is always the hottest part of the trek. The ferry was packed with families donning various themed outfits - matching t-shirts, Disney princess costumes, and tons of little ones with Mickey and Minnie ears on their heads.

Bakugo leans over to you, snickering at a few kids running across the deck. “That kid’s gonna have the best sleep of his life tonight.”

A gentle smile settles on your lips as you watched the joy exude from the toddler, giggling up a storm with his mom.

“I can’t remember a time I had a sliver of that kinda energy,” you joke, lulling your head back as the wind swept through your ponytail. “Or a decent night’s sleep.”

“Ya had plenty of energy last night,” he laughs, smirking as you smack him on the arm while the ferry approaches the dock. Bakugo takes your hand when you stand to exit the boat, interlocking his fingers with your own. The greenery of the entrance flourishes under the sun’s rays, immediately catching your attention. You pull him to the side, standing in front of the landscape with the plaque that reads “Magic Kingdom” and the anniversary celebration signage. Before you can ask him to take a picture together, he’s already tugging you closer and taking out his phone from his pocket.

“Knew you were gonna ask, you and your sentimental ass,” Bakugo says, unlocking his fingers from your grasp in exchange for a spot on your waist.

“Scoot in close baby, I wanna get the flowers an’ shit.” He angles his phone to catch both of you with the flower display and the entry sign in the background, and to your surprise, he’s got the cheesiest smile on his face when he takes the shot.

“Go stand over there,” he demands, patting you on the small of your back when he lets go of your waist. You shoot him a confused stare, about to ask why before he cuts you off.

“I want a shot of my favorite princess. Stand over there an’ look pretty for me, peach.”

“Aww, Disney Magic already making you sappy?” You tease, sticking your tongue out him playfully to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. He huffs while signaling you to move into the perfect spot. Once he’s satisfied with the position, you pose sweetly without hesitation with your foot propped up and cute little peace sign. Bakugo’s heart leaps into his throat when he studies your beautiful face through his screen, instantly setting the photo as his lock screen.

Both of you make your way to the gates and scan your magic bands, the signature chime and green light letting the two of you proceed into Magic Kingdom. Strolling through the Main Street Square, you stop in your tracks at the sight of Cinderella’s Castle, taking in its majestic glow with starry eyes.

“Wow, what a beautiful fu-uh, freakin’, sight,” Bakugo says, trying to watch his language around all the kids roaming the town square. You can’t help but giggle at his instance to be “family friendly,” trying his damndest not to curse at his natural 110% volume level. Jokingly, you told him earlier at breakfast that Mickey Mouse would pop out of a bush and scold him for cursing too much if he got caught and he’d end up in Disney Jail.

“So, where to first?” You question, bouncing on your heels with excitement. “Wanna meet your actual favorite princess?”

“Fu-screw off,” he snorts, squeezing your hand in jest. “…maybe later.”

You start walking down Main Street, navigating the crowds to head to the little nook between the castle and Tomorrowland. Peaking around the line queue, you squeal with excitement when you see Merida posing with a family of five.

“Look, there she is!”

Bakugo wasn’t really sure why he was nervous, he knew it was an actress, but a familiar childlike sense of wonder had him wanting to kick his feet with enthusiasm over the thought of meeting his favorite Disney princess. Merida happens to glance toward the two of you as you pass by the line queue before the next family gets her attention, waving when she sees you smile at her. Bakugo doesn’t know what to do, a weird fluttering sensation in his stomach as he manages to give a small wave back.

“Don’t get too soft on me now,” you quip, elbowing him in the side. "I happen to like your grumpy ass."

He barks out a laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “M’not soft, princess. You’ll be askin’ for the opposite later.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, biting it playfully while you dramatically swat at him to cut it out.

The two of you meander through Magic Kingdom as the day goes on, jumping on rides, watching the parades, sharing snacks, and absorbing all the magic the park offered. You can’t remember a time where you’ve seen Bakugo smile for hours on end, enjoying your company and having a blast - even in the blistering heat! He went into a laughing fit watching you walk off of Space Mountain all wobbly the entire walk down the exit ramp from dizziness. And when he beat your score on the Buzz Lightyear ride, he insisted on buying the souvenir picture to prove his victory over you…and because he wants to hang it in the living room when you get home.

The day winds down, the sunset splayed across the horizon as the two of you settle into a spot in front of the castle, patiently waiting for the fireworks display to begin. The refreshing sensation of orange flavored dole whip hits your tongue, taking a few scoops before handing the cup back to Bakugo.

"Isn't this the life?" You ask, leaning back on your hands to stretch out your legs. "Can't believe I got you to wear matching Mickey ears."

"Y'didn't, you bought them when I said no," he retorts, rolling his eyes as he takes another bite of dole whip. "But I'm glad ya did, they're stupidly cute."

He sets the half-eaten cup on the sidewalk next to him, reaching into his pocket for his phone. "C'mere, before it gets too dark."

Bakugo tugs you closer, leaning against you as he hands you his phone to take a picture. When you're about to push the shutter button, he surprises you by planting a sweet peck on your cheek, a gleeful smile crossing your lips. When you look back at it, you can't help but think this is real - your boyfriend, the Katsuki Bakugo, one of Japan's top ten heroes, is here with you in Disney World, happy as can be, wearing matching Mickey ears and taking silly selfies with you.

"I'm starting to think you're the sentimental one."

"Can't a guy show off his girl?"

His girl.

"Color me shocked you wanted to be seen in those," you point to the Mickey ears atop his hat.

"Peach, y'know I'd do anything for ya at this point. I like bein' all cute and shit with you, and only you."

And you know what? That was a good enough answer. Bakugo flashes you a toothy grin before putting his phone back in his pocket, scooching closer so your hips are touching and offering you the last of the dole whip. The fireworks start a few moments later, the two of you lost in the beautiful explosive lights for the entire show.

Later that night, when you finally trudged back to the hotel, you have a notification of a new tagged photo that catches your attention - from Dynamight001. The caption of the photo set is short and sweet, thousands of likes and comments already flooding the post as he uploaded it on his main hero account.

"home's anywhere you are.🧡"

You're swiping through the photos, and there's one you didn't know he took at the very end. It's of you while watching the fireworks, the reflects of color sparkling in your eyes with a smile on your face.

Your heart beats against your ribs, overflowing with love for him as he waltzes out of the bathroom in his sweats. He sees the look on your face and chuckles, tackling you to the bedsheets and peppers your neck with kisses.

"Get off your phone already and in'ta bed, baby. We've got another long day tomorrow."

You hum in acknowledgement, tossing your phone onto the nightstand and sinking under the comforter to snuggle up into his chest - just the way he loves.

And you can't help but think to yourself, he's right.

Home's anywhere you are.

Disney bound!; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq @liluvtojineteyam

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : calling hamzah your “friend”

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : headcannons/blurb based on the tiktok trend of calling your partner “friend”

mickey speaks : since ppl really liked my first lil blurb imma just play out all my tt fantasies with our fake bf :D also pls send me any hamzah reqs my brain is very empty lmfao!!!!

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

you prop your phone up against the vase of flowers on your dining room table, capturing both you and hamzah in frame.

“guysss!! look my friend brought me takeout hibachi for dinner tonight!” you squeal and lift the styrofoam box to show off your meal.

hamzah doesn’t catch it the first time, he’s honestly tweaking because he stopped to get you both dinner right after the gym.

he feels starved but maintains composure and a smile for your tiktok bit

“i just got the basic fried rice, veggies, and chicken. i think my friend got the same, hamzah what’d you get?”

his eyebrows pinch in confusion for a second, “uh yeah, i got the same as you.”

“okay first bites! i’ll have my friend go first” you can’t help but smile when you grab the phone and start to record hamzah, but he’s paused holding his fork in the air.

“why do you keep saying that?” he softly asks through a laugh.

“what?”

“callin’ me your friend?”

“are we not friends...?" "i mean yeah sure but like not just that?" "you're confusing me, just take your bite please we’re gonna run out of time on this”

he nods his head compliantly and exaggerates a hum of “mmm!” after his bite before taking your phone to film yours.

“okay friend, your turn!” he loudly mocks with a wide grin.

you try not to laugh while taking a bite yourself

“it's actually so good, i needed this right now.”

you now record the both of you, “okay my friend and i are gonna finish this and then we’ll be back with more bestie activities!”

as soon as you say 'friend' again hamzah leaves the frame to chuckle through the amount of food in his mouth.

“right, best friend?” you urge some more

he swallows and pettily glances from side to side, “where's the best friend at???”

“okay he’s trippin’ but we’ll be back”

you're both in your bathroom now, hamzah reads over the packaging of two sheet face masks while you pull your hair away from your face with a fuzzy cat-eared headband.

"'kay, now we're gonna do these face masks together, because hamzah’s such a good friend!” you hold and rub his arm.

he puffs his lips and closes his eyes in defeat while shaking his head, “stop,” he looks down at you, noticing your headband, “that’s cute,” he flicks one of the cat ears on your headband.

“you look like one of those get ready with me girls; you'd be like,” he mockingly pretends to push his hair back, “‘get ready with me to lie on the internet!’”

you laugh with him and add to the joke as well, "get ready with me to kill my boy-friend! my friend!" your eyes widen and you try hide the embarrassment.

hamzah quite literally points and laughs, "look at you! even you know you're a damn lie! girl, get outta here!"

cuts to a clip where it’s just hamzah talking to your phone as he shifts the mask around on his face, “i don’t even know if i’m doin’ this right, bruh.” he looks into the camera, “oh hell nah, i look crazy!”

“it feels so weird…” he taps at the slick, cold mask some more before coming close to the camera again, “guys im having a fucking identity crisis. why’s my girlfriend gaslighting me right now?"

“like, i didn’t even know that girls knew how to do that…comment down below right now and give me tips on how to understand women.”

“okay i found one, look how cute!” you’re back and holding another fuzzy headband with a bow in the middle.

hamzah laughs, “i love you, but im not wearing that.”

in the next clip of course he’s wearing it, “aw don't we look so cute?”

finally cuts to a clip of you later that night throwing yourself next to him in bed and flipping the camera to record him as he plays candy crush, curled under the comforter. “hi babbyyyyy! i was joking about the friend thing i know you’re my boyfriend.”

“i know you know i’m your boyfriend,” he distractedly mumbles, laying on his side while continuing to move his thumb around his phone screen.

you flip the camera once more as you wrap an arm around him and squish your face on top of his hooded head. he looks into the camera and smirks to himself when he sees your sweet face.

he sticks his tongue out obnoxiously, yells “goodnight vlog!!!” and covers your phone's camera with his hand forcing a loud cackle out of you.

[elodieunderglass]

It's not really my business, but honestly it feels like it would be advisable to hire a copyright lawyer. Like I don't feel like you're in it for the money, but it might be gratifying to have the guy milking your idea at least have to formally acknowledge you. I think I'd do it just for the peace of mind to know if I've been "legally" wronged or not. Either way, hope you continue to inspire, and live out a peaceful life.

(In reference to this post about the guy who pretends to have invented “Elder Teletubbies,” specifically how he is now kickstarting DnD minis of them.)

Ha, well, it’s all a little tricky I think. I might, hilariously, post on the r/legaladvice Reddit (even though they’re all cops lol) because the only thing I want here is for him to stop selling my “transformative work,” and ideally to stop pretending he invented it (which might be difficult as he appears to fully believe his work is creatively independent.)

I think if anything, my post counts as protected commentary or a transformative work of BBC’s Teletubbies, and I think it’s stinky to profit on that stuff in general (like I’m 190% okay with buying LotR fanart on stickers ! but I wouldn’t dream of trying to publish a fic with the serial numbers filed off. Why?)

I think ultimately I’m not a grifter, I’m a grownup, and I think it’s several levels of eye roll to sell fanart of a tv show on this level. I would be embarrassed to touch money made on that. I’m too fucking scrupulous and artisanal. I have toyed with a silly original novel for funsies since 2019 but keep saying things like, “oh, people will think this is too similar to something else that already exists” as if a silly original novel I write for fun has to somehow pass a Bar of Originality higher than anything salary-writers aim for.

I’m also pretty anti-intellectual-property myself in that leftist sense where I don’t believe people should be acting as if creative works are, like, oil. Like the resource extraction angle of intellectual property freaks me out, I don’t think getting super high-horse and snotty about Magical Brain Property is entirely compatible with the artisanal temperament I personally got going on here. I am like snufkin about this, simply smoking a pipe and making a flower crown saying “poor fools! Producing works for market, and serving as the guard dogs of the market, lest their work lose value if it becomes more common!” I do not have a high horse. I am not going to post 6900 words about the importance of defending fucking… Mickey Mouse. I buy those lotr stickers on Etsy! I do have a horse, but it’s a pretty low horse.

If it was his own work I would not care about this guy doing this in the least (apart from loftily calling it stinky - but hey, nerds are common and nerds are stinky, it’s not rare) IF he wasn’t STEALING FROM MY ANTI-COMMERCIALISATION DREAM TO DO IT.

That’s the bit that PISSES ME OFF too much to ignore: that and accepting compliments for being original like 😌 yes my twisted mind did this idk lol.

Like if you asked him point blank about the artistic choices he’d be like idk my twisted mind just sees the Teletubbies this way teehee! but if you ask ME why, for example, the adult Teletubbies live in the forest I’ll explain that in 2017 I was at a major life crossroads and this dream was ABOUT that. It was goodbye to my identity as a foreigner from the pine forests, and full steam ahead to settling permanently in the fucking shire (where the baby teletubbies on the bbc show live). It was about going back to work having had my first child, and saying goodbye to my various career dreams for myself (famous scientist! Published author!) as I chose instead, finally, the responsibility of working humbly as a public servant for the actual good of society. It is about witnessing the wild and saying “I am not of it, but it is my job to be its witness and voice.” That’s why the adult Teletubbies are dancing in my native forests while I’m watching them from the English hills. This guy doesn’t know that he just vaguely heard “spooky forest cryptid” and didn’t develop it at all, I do more work than that with FANFICTION in my time off!!!

So it’s really about nebulous stuff and ethics and not something worth paying a lawyer for I think!

But thank you so much for this, I think the thing that gets most perennial about it is the TOTAL GASLIGHTING of the “outside world” of the rest of the internet like, fully believing they invented this, and they DIDNT. They’re so wrong on the internet and they don’t know

[listofwhyyouloveher]

ok idea the outsiders boys with a partner that LOVES to embroider stuff

so like examples would be Darry or Dally with a barely noticeable heart on their jeans, Johnny with a hidden star flower or heart on his jacket, or Soda with a sunflower on his DX shirt pocket

Summary: The Outsiders with a reader who embroiders

Warnings: None

Author's Note: None PONYBOY finds solace in a chance encounter with you, who has a passion for embroidery. He loves when you embroider little things onto his shirt. He is captivated by your intricate creations, each stitch telling a story of its own. He loves when you embroider things into his clothes, it reminds him that you're always with him, no matter what. He especially likes it when you stitch little ponies into the inside of his jacket, so he can look down and see your creation, the ones you did while thinking about him. JOHNNY learned to embroider from his mom when he was little. He's been using that talent now to fix up his worn clothes. Johnny thinks you're insanely talented, how you can create things from just needle and thread. He secretly wants to be just like you, but knows he would be made fun of by Dallas so he just watches you embroider. He loves when you embroider yellow flowers on the cuffs of his denim jacket, his favorite colour is yellow and he likes knowing that you know the little details about him. SODAPOP thinks it's so cute that you can embroider. He think's its such a 'grandma' quality, which to him is not a bad thing at all, in fact, it makes him feel a soft nostalgia for that part of his life that he misses. He would let you embroider his work shirts if he could, but he can't because his boss would get so pissed at him, but he lets you embroider the shirt he wears underneath. There's a little pop bottle resting above his heart. Usually he would laugh at the overused connotation, but he thinks that it's sweet when it's coming from you. STEVE is absolutely in love with your embroidery. He loves the delicate patterns and lovely stitching that shapes into a recognizable thing. However, he would never let you stitch something on the outside of his clothes, only on the inside of his jacket or underneath the cuffs of his jeans. The only way you could get away with embroidering something on his shirt or on the outside of his pants is if it was tuff, like a skull or something. That doesn't mean you haven't strategically placed a heart on one of his shirts though! TWO BIT is actually shit at embroidering. He's tried to learn for his mom and sister, but he really just couldn't get the hang of it. He loves to watch you work though, entranced by how quickly your needle works and how clear your designs are. He's so happy when you embroider matching shirts for him and you. Over the heart of one of his white tank tops is a mickey and over one of yours is a minnie. He's kissing you all over when he recieves it and he's immedietly making you put on yours to match with him. DARRY learned to embroider from his mom, in fact, that was probably the last thing he learned from her. He and his dad both ripped a small hole in their jeans and she sat them both down and taught them how to fix it. He thinks that the fact that you embroider is a sign from the heavens that his mother is saying you're made for him. He'll actually try and get you to embroider stuff on his clothes, it makes him feel grounded and he'll rub the pads of his thumb over the tight stitching when he's tired, nervous or angry. DALLAS calls you a grandma because you know how to embroider, but when his favorite brown leather jacket got caught in a bramble and tore, he came 'begging' (he would kill you if you called it that) for help. At first you obliged and just helped him stitch it up, but when he started to bring more stuff over you would go a little crazy with the designs. He knew right away that you were going off track, but he never said anything, you even caught him wearing some of the stuff you fixed out to a rumble, running his hand over it for good luck.

[michellemisfit]

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe @bawlbrayker has just won @gallacrafts, right? 🤔

Staying at the Grand Istana Rama Hotel in Kuta, Bali.

They have a flower well in the lobby, which is the first thing you see as you enter. The flower well is renewed each day, and they take requests. I will add images of other days below the cut, but I couldn't resist doing this:

And the best part is...

This was the flower well the day before:

[hadesrise]

heart of gold, heart of cold.

summary ➳ you’re much more than just the nicest boy in southside chicago

pairings ➳ ian gallagher x male reader x mickey milkovich

warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, violence, soft boy!reader, homophobia, established polyamorous relationship, absolute badassery lol, mentions of sex, a little apathy, small mention of blood, good but actually not trope, some mental issues

author’s note ➳ haven’t watched shameless, only gallavich scenes and few other moments. my anger issues can’t handle watching all of that. which is why none of my writing of them’s gonna be accurate to the timeline of the series.

Ian and Mickey couldn’t remember the time you were ever mean to anyone even before meeting you, had never even heard of your name being thrown around without it being extremely positive. Everyone had to say everything about you, which is understandable, considering you were definitely the odd type to be in southside Chicago — this place was full of shit with robbery being nonchalantly committed, guns shooting off in different areas, bunch of unconvicted pedophiles walking around, and teenagers high on whatever fucking heavy drugs they first could touch, while you’re out there, helping whoever you think might need help and genuinely being nice to even the worst fucking thugs you would ever meet.

It’s questionable, how someone could be in southside and grow up perfectly sane and not bottled up with any issues or anger.

You’ve always been the talk around the neighborhood, how the (L/n) kid helped some randos again, how you talked to them with the nicest personality and utmost respect, how you smile at anyone who passes by whenever you make eye contact with them, how you were calm in dealing with a situation most people would get frustrated at; just about anything positive. It wasn’t difficult for both Ian and Mickey to fall for you as much as they fell for each other. You were like a single flower blooming in the middle of a garden that a person would come back to just to see your beauty; something about your softness and kind personality struck a core into both of their hearts.

They never had someone like you in their life. A calm, soothing, comforting presence, like the warm sun in the morning. An accepting, welcoming presence, like the mother earth. You’ve always been gentle with them — not something they’re used to, considering the type of household they grew up in — always checking in, making sure they’re okay even if they push you away, taking care of them.

You’re one of the first person Ian came out to other than his family, because he knew you’d never judge. Mickey was rather an asshole in your first meet, nearly beating you up, but the way you didn’t snark or your nice demeanor didn’t change no matter what insults he threw at you made him hesitant, which never happened with Milkovich’s.

When they started sleeping together, you caught on it quickly before anyone else ever did and kept it a secret the entire time, knowing the personal problems they had to deal with; Ian and Mickey only found out you knew when you stopped Terry from making Mickey have sex with Svetlana by just walking in on the interaction. The near innocence in your eyes as you tilted your head slightly to the side, just staring at Terry until he grew uncomfortable and rushed off. He could never stand being near to you, especially with how holier than thou you were. It wasn’t actually an accident to walk in, but they don’t know that.

Despite the awkward circumstances, you were calm and paid Svetlana a good amount before getting both of them dressed and taking care of them, even though they didn’t have to be taken cared of. Your gentleness with them that time really caused something to burst within their chest, the same feeling they were starting to develop towards each other. The acceptance, the comfort, the gentleness. Everything about you felt magical — you felt magical.

Even after Ian and Mickey figured out their shit together, officially came out, figured out their shit together again that both of them liked you, flirted with you and won you over, and officially came out again to their family as polyamorous couple, they had never seen you be a dick. Sure, you swore a lot sometimes when you drop something or miss something, but never towards anyone. They never saw you doing the typical southside thing, being rebellious, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, doing drugs or shit.

You’re always nice — and it’s supposed to be a good thing, but it also gets a lot concerning, especially when some dumb fucking guy punched you in the face for mistaking you as someone who slept with his girlfriend and you had the audacity to forgive him when he apologized, making Mickey nearly wanting to strangle you right then and there.

“Why the fuck did you forgive him?” Mickey snarls and shuts the fridge door close, ice pack in hand as he throws it to Ian, who immediately began pressing it to your cheek that was beginning to form a bruise.

You shrugged, “He just mistook me for someone else.”

“Yeah, and fucking punched you in the face without asking first who the fuck you are.” Mickey retorted, giving you a death glare. He moves around to stand beside you on the opposite side of Ian.

You were sitting on the counter facing the dining table where Fiona, Lip, Liam, Carl, Debbie, Sandy, Mandy, and Franny were, all contorting worried look since you’re the nicest and you having a single bruise means when the people you helped before sees it they’re gonna flip over and bury the guy ten feet under while still breathing. Everyone knew you, and you’re literally the holiest within southside, so they naturally hated when someone messed with you.

Your hand shoots up to rub his arm gently, warm look in your eyes as your soft voice speaks to comfort him. “Calm down, Mick. Let it go, I’m fine.” You smile softly, “It was just a little mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Mickey frowns, still angry yet definitely calm now that you’re giving him comfort. “You’re too fucking nice, it’s making me sick.”

You chuckled, grabbing the ice pack from Ian to press it on your cheek yourself. You pull Ian to kiss him on the cheek before doing the same to Mickey, knowing it will help tone down their anger. “At least I have my own guard dogs.” You joke, earning a snicker from the group.

“Haha, very funny.” Mickey sarcastically replies.

Ian sighs, “(Y/n), I think Mickey’s right though. You’re too nice, maybe a bit much. Even to Frank and Terry.” He agreed with his other boyfriend, who puts his hands up in a gesture of i told you so.

You tilted your head, still smiling. “Frank’s your father and Terry’s Mickey’s father. No matter how horrible they are, I don’t think I could treat them any differently from how I treat others.” Shrugging, you ignored both of your boyfriends’ groan and sipped on the orange juice resting on your side.

“What’s up with you treating everyone equally and being unnaturally nice to even someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Fiona asked, genuinely confused with her brows furrowed together and crease forming on her forehead. “You were even nice with Monica.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a while.

You could tell them what was really going on, but it would be too much to dump it on them all of a sudden. Being nice and having a lot of patience is a lot difficult, but you learned to, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s a survival skill that you had to adapt to; be nice and you get everything you want. A little... useful tactic that you taught yourself, though it’s more than that.

Deciding against telling them, because it’ll get out when it gets out, you simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I like spreading dumb kindness. I think it helps people who deals with mental health issues that their relatives probably don’t even know. I might’ve been nice to them and turned their bad day into good day. Small things like that has an impact, you know.”

Mickey scowled, “That makes no sense.”

You simply smiled and patted his cheek, turning to Ian who placed his hand on your waist. “I still think you should’ve done something, (Y/n). Press charges or something.” He said, wanting to convince you.

Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you kissed his lips and Mickey’s, successfully shutting both of them up as you hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to change. Take me out on a date, will you two?” You let your hands linger on each of their arm before walking away with an angelic smile, leaving the boys staring after you in slight awe.

“Oh my god, you two are so fucking smitten with him.” Sandy remarked, laughing. The others nodded in agreement, deeply amused.

Ian and Mickey rolled their eyes, “The fuck we’re not.” Mickey denies, though failing to convince them and himself.

“But you are,” Lip shrugged. “He’s got you wrapped all around his finger.”

“Kinda cute if you ask me,” Fiona chuckles.

“Oh, fuck off.” Ian retorts, a smile across his face.

Neither would admit it, but they really were. Equally smitten with one another, your relationship had always been wholesome, except for the times all three of you were friends with benefits.

Ian and Mickey slept together first obviously, only started hooking up with you after the incident with Terry. Mickey was first to do it when he went to your house to spend time with you since you’re the only person he could trust aside from Ian, the casual conversation taking a turn after he had asked if you would fuck him if you were gay, which you told him you were, causing Mickey to literally demand a fuck from you.

“Hey, man?” Mickey slowly called to you who was sitting on the opposite side of the ridiculously big couch, eyes focused on the movie with a can of coke in your hand.

“Hm?” You hum, turning to look at him despite being completely indulged in the movie plot. Mickey liked that, how you’re willing to give him your full attention even though you’re busy and don’t even have to look at him at all.

He glances down, picking with his hand, slightly nervous. But he knew you wouldn’t judge, you never did. It was unlikely of him to feel this way, but Mickey couldn’t help it. Nearly unbearable to talk to someone as nice and caring as you yet can’t bring himself to stay away.

“Would you—would you fuck me if you were, you know, fucking gay?”

Your brows raised at the random question. Though it wasn’t difficult to realize it’s because of the previous gay scene in the movie you’re watching where the main characters made love to each other without it being censored and shit. “Well,” You started with a small smile adorning your face, “I don’t know if you knew but I’m actually gay, Milkovich.”

Mickey’s head snapped to your side, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Or Ian?”

“You didn’t ask,” You simply shrugged. “I normally don’t go around announcing to everybody what my sexuality is. Kind of weird if I did that,” You joked, earning a glare from the Milkovich. “But honestly, I didn’t think it was something I had to tell you or Ian. I just let people guess or notice it on their own.”

“How the fuck do they even notice?" Mickey remarks, furrowing his brows. “I’ve literally never seen you with any guys or girls. Have you even hooked up with somebody?”

You chuckled, “Nope. Wasn’t really interested.”

“Damn,” Mickey gave you a weird look. It was so odd to see someone in southside not doing drugs or shit, let alone sleeping around with whoever they liked. He wasn’t used to it. Now, you feel like a fucking holy being or something. But then, Mickey realizes you never actually answered his question, so he repeated again. “You didn’t answer my fucking question, would you fuck me?”

You’re gay, so might as well shoot his shot. Can’t really miss this opportunity.

You stare at him, something glinting in your eyes that definitely wasn’t innocence. Your lips slowly formed a sly grin as you tilted your head. “What if I said yes? What are you gonna do?”

A smile appeared on Mickey’s lips, “Then fucking get on with it, (L/n).”

Conveniently, you were a switch so Mickey didn’t have to pretend he didn’t like having dick in his ass. He told Ian he slept with you that came off as surprise since apparently Ian also didn’t know you were gay, which led to Ian sleeping with you as well.

“You’re so weird,” Ian laughed when he caught you stacking some nuggets together to build a makeshift tower, having woken up from a friendly sleepover at your house.

You grinned and stacked the last piece of nugget, looking at Ian as you gestured to your work of art. “Tadaaaa!” It caused him to burst out laughing, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked between laughter.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I was bored and you weren’t waking up anytime soon. Figured I’d kill my time.” Smiling, you offered him a can of beer that was sitting on the table, having just taken out from the fridge. Ian accepted, thanking you. “How did you sleep?”

Ian smiled after taking a gulp from the beer and placed it down on the table, “Great, actually. Like the times I haven’t been able to sleep isn’t real.” Relief was evident on his face, considering how big the bags under his eyes were. He never mentioned that you were the reason of him being unable to fall asleep, always thinking of you ever since that horrible day that suddenly turned great with your presence. Hearing about you sleeping with Mickey made him decide nothing will happen if he just thinks around, thus the sleepover.

A soft look crosses your face as you begin to play with his hair, touch displaying gentleness Ian had never felt before. His eyes met yours, such a warm gaze making him feel loved even without doing anything. “Well, I’m glad the cuddle worked, Gallagher. You can always come to me when you can’t sleep, I’ll hold you until you can.” Voice merely above a whisper, you gently told him.

Ian was feeling breathless. Everything about your welcoming and accepting nature deemed temptation; his pupils dilating, throat suddenly dry as if he’s been dehydrated, stomach growling as if hasn’t eaten in days, feeling your soft hand brush through his ginger hair as you stared at him innocently yet almost seducing. The tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. And with the growing urge to just give in to the temptation, Ian leaned forward without a second thought, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You made a noise of surprise that immediately caused Ian to pull away, a panicked look in his eyes, scared he might’ve ruined the most precious friendship he’s ever had. Series of apology slipped past his lips, but you shut him up by putting a finger up to his lips.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, silly.” You reassured, though concern plastered your face. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah,” His response was nearly quick. “Why do you think I agreed to a sleepover?”

That angelic smile of yours returned again, chuckling. “Okay then, Gallagher. Do whatever you want.” You said before kissing him again, letting the rest of the day continue.

Again, it was convenient that you’re a switch, because even though Ian has tried bottoming before, he preferred topping, especially with you or Mickey. Well, you and Mickey now. Those sleeping around days were a lot... wild, to say the least.

You never slept with anyone besides Ian and Mickey, always uninterested in other guys and turning them down nicely quite often, which Mandy — your bestfriend — noticed.

Questionable, of course, because there was one incident at the Alibi where she, Lip, and Fiona were present and you and Ian came out the bathroom covered in hickeys, not even bothering to hide them as the two of you sat down with them. However, when a guy noticed and realized what happened, they attempted to shoot their shot with you, miserably failing as you turned it down without further acknowledgement while Ian just shrugged, as if he already knew that was going to be your answer. Then, Mickey suddenly barged in only to tell you a short “not tired yet, are ya?” while walking to the bathroom, and you smiled at Ian before following Mickey.

It happened quite a lot in different circumstances that even the Gallaghers caught up on how Ian and Mickey are the only ones you let getting in your pants.

It was a messy and complicated time where everyone had to deal with their own shit; Mickey with his homophobic upbringing and sexual crisis, Ian with his confusion in feeling something for both you and Mickey at the same time and doubts to himself, you with accepting your romantic attraction to both of them, keeping it locked in, and fulfilling the desire to be with them by sleeping with them. It’s either they slept with each other, you slept with either of them, or the three of you slept together, all bonded somehow. Ian and Mickey were the first ones to get their shit together and officially became partners, and well... it honestly didn’t turn out good back then due to you still dealing with your own shit that nobody ever noticed. That story could be for another day, though.

The point is, your friendship used to be wholesome, but the extent of it increased more when you three settled after all that shitshow. There were some toxicity at first, especially with Mickey struggling to overcome the genuinely awful upbringing he had — he was dating a guy after all, and not just one but two — along with Ian’s diagnosis of bipolar disorder. But having each other and not giving up on each other made the toxicity disappear and morph into something positive, each of you going through some relationship development together.

Compared to back then, the three of you had grown overly comfortable with each other and the polyamorous relationship you had, not feeling discomfort when people look at you weirdly. Coming to terms with the issues truly helped.

However, neither Ian nor Mickey had come to terms with your kindness towards people who didn’t deserve it, and they absolutely have no plans of coming to terms with it at all. People can be a lot rude and asshole when you’re nice to them, which is why they simultaneously keep themselves and each other from strangling the person’s neck everytime it treated or spoke to you horribly.

Well, frankly, nobody would understand and you don’t expect them to. Too bad they’re going to have to sooner than later, because you’ve been feeling a little irritable — it’s only a matter of time before the truth cracks through the surface of friendliness and nice personality you’ve plastered on.

Once it does, people will be fucked.

You know who you are when you’re not nice; it’s never a pretty sight. It’s a bloodbath.

Everything seemed perfect.

Dinner’s pretty cheap, but not unbearable. One of the nicest things about you is that you don’t care for the price as long as it’s edible and tasty. You’re not the one to fuss over the cheapness or expensiveness of anything and the Gallaghers loved that, because you wouldn’t talk shit of how they can’t afford shit. Birthdays are special occasion where people usually ask for expensive gifts, but the Gallaghers were always reminded by you not to go grand on celebrations or presents, because you didn’t like them spending their money on something other than theirselves.

They still went with it though, going to a cheap local bar where they serve cheap dinner so everyone could celebrate the birth date of you, who was born special in southside Chicago with kindness that’s seemingly a curse.

The night went by smoothly, everyone enjoying their time and having fun — You, Ian, Mickey, Mandy, Sandy, Lip, Fiona, Liam, Debbie, Franny, Veronica, Kev, and even Frank who was by the bar because his family disapproved of him joining. He still did, considering you’re the nicest kid he’s ever met.

Perfect. Everything was perfect. Too perfect that it’s becoming strange, how well this night is going.

You were absolutely correct to feel like that.

Mickey’s blood was boiling at the man that had suddenly approached the table with a friendly smile only to go around spitting whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about, mainly nasty things. But according to him, he knew you and you knew him, well enough, even though they didn’t know him despite being your boyfriends. The Gallaghers were collectively surprised of his sudden appearance, considering none of them knew him, but concerns littered their faces when the man mentioned you.

“I honestly don’t know what (Y/n)’s thinking, hanging out with Gallaghers and dating one,” The man, who ( unwantedly ) introduced himself as Caius snickered.

Ian, despite his annoyance increasing at Caius’ presence, tried to remain calm. “What’s it to you? And fyi, he’s also dating him, so don’t fucking talk like that.” He pointed at Mickey, who glared daggers at the man.

“Fuck, he’s dating two guys?” Caius laughed mockingly. “And a Milkovich at that. But aren’t you, like, bipolar though? With the gene.” His mention of the diagnosis made Mickey furious as he slammed his hands against the table and attempted to stand up, only to be held back by Ian. Everyone had their blood boiling now, but forced themselves to keep calm since it’s your birthday. Nobody wanted to ruin it for you.

“I guess crazy psychopaths are his type, huh? With how the screws in his head are fucking loose, I’m not surprised.” He snarled, looking at both of them. However, his words cuts through the boiling rage within Ian and Mickey as they both processed his words, furrowing their brows in confusion at the mention of the screws in your head being loose.

Before anyone could utter a single word, the loud sound of wine bottle smashing against the back of Caius’ head erupts throughout the entire bar as he dropped to the floor cursing loudly, revealing you holding the remaining end of the shattered bottle. The nice look on your face no longer visible as it contorted into an emotionless expression, eyes holding utmost coldness with some unknown darkness within them that sent chills up everyone’s spine.

You merely acknowledged Caius groaning in pain on the floor, throwing away the shattered piece of the wine bottle to the side as you nonchalantly patted off your hands of any invisible dirt.

“Oh my fucking god,” Fiona was the first to react, terrified as she witnessed Caius touch the back of his head and get a blood on his palm. The other Gallaghers were already standing a feet away as they all jumped up and away from the table when you smashed a bottle on the man’s head, completely shocked and stunned, Lip and Carl letting out holy fuck.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Ian and Mickey exclaimed in sync, with Ian looking at you while Mickey at Caius, both eyes wide and shock on their faces.

You shrugged, the usual smile completely nonexistent. “Smashed a bottle on an old friend’s head after talking shit about my boyfriends.” The slightest hint of apathy in your tone worried them a bit, but you quickly shifted your cold gaze to Caius. “Quit fucking moaning, Caius. You already saw it coming when you decided to approach them while I was gone for the bathroom.”

“Fuck,” Caius groaned, laying on his back to shoot you a glare. “I just got fucking discharged from the hospital you put me in, shithead. A little nice sympathy maybe? The one you fucking show people.”

“Certainly didn’t need sympathy when you brought up Ian’s bipolar disorder,” You smiled sarcastically. “And don’t be fucking dramatic, it was just few broken bones.”

“You made me fucking bleed internally and you wanna call that just a few broken bones?” Caius snapped. Everyone’s eyes widened.

Rolling your eyes, you folded the sleeves up of your button up while clenching and unclenching your fist, something that Ian and Mickey didn’t miss. “Serves you right for planning to shoot Micky Milkovich. Unfortunately for you, I genuinely and utterly loathe someone describing either of them as crazy psychopaths, especially since Ian’s been diagnosed bipolar, so...”

You grinned sadistically.

“Consider today your finally meet God and be sent to Hell day.”

Everyone watched as you rub your face while talking to the cops about what happened inside the bar, the back of your hand all bloody and knuckles busted, probably tainted in both Caius’ and your own blood. It was scary to see you so violent and, as Caius said, have screws in the head loose. The unlikeliness and the way you acted and looked so different from how you usually were terrified them.

Not Ian and Mickey, though. They were standing on both of your sides while the rest were a few feet behind, still attempting to calm down from the shock of witnessing your change in attitude and your true colors seeping through the cracks.

Your entire demeanor now was back to normal; not that cold and expressionless presence with terrifying apathy, but the warm, full of expression and accepting presence. You had quietly greeted the cops earlier with a small smile that turned into a frown of guilt, which somehow was enough for them not to handcuff you despite the damage you caused on Caius.

“I probably shouldn’t have done all of those to him,” You muttered thoughtfully while biting your lip. “I don’t think I regret it though. He crossed the line, I got pissed.”

“You normally don’t get pissed, Mr. (L/n).” One of the cops remarked.

Shrugging your shoulders, you gave them a small smile. “That’s just what you think of me. I don’t really care if people insult me or talk shit about me, but my boyfriends are one of the most significant people in my life, so they’re off-limits. I really can’t handle anyone talking shit about them.” Your soft tone falling down to a serious and firm one, you narrowed your eyes at the ambulance that contained Caius’ unconscious body.

“Are Mr. Milkovich and Mr. Gallagher basically your trigger?” The other cop wondered.

You nodded immediately, “Yeah. I think so.” Rubbing your nape with the uninjured hand nervously, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Shouldn’t you be handcuffing me? I definitely went too far, I blacked out in anger, and he’s unconscious with some injuries that are probably worse than what I think, so…” You slowly brought your hands together, ready to get arrested.

“Don’t worry, witnesses came forward and shared what happened. They confirmed Caius went too far with the disclosure of a person’s medical condition confidentiality.” One of the officers stated, gently bringing your hands down.

Your eyes snapped to the cops, “Wait, really?”

“Yes, they understood how off-limits your boyfriends are and immediately talked to us after we arrived.” The two cops smiled, seeing the look of relief on your face. “We’ll get going then, Mr. (L/n). You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you.” Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car before your blank face returned.

“You’re fucking one hell of an actor, (Y/n) (L/n).” Mickey remarked after seeing your face fall and glare threateningly at the ambulance as soon as the cops drove off.

“Hey,” Ian softly called to catch your attention, cupping your face. “Look at me. Look at us. Calm down, (Y/n). It’s fine, we’re fine, okay? You don’t have to be mad anymore.”

Mickey watched silently from the side with his arm around Ian’s waist and the other hand gently rubbing your arm to help bring comfort to you. Tense shoulders slowly softening and body relaxing, they witnessed the rage storm calm in your eyes as the hard gaze softened and you respond to their gesture by melting into their touch.

You sighed deeply, “Okay.”

Both of them couldn’t help but notice the empathy slipping back into your eyes and expression, brightening it up, making it seem more alive. Your eyes looked dead earlier when you were beating the life out of Caius until he was barely breathing, it honestly scared and freaked the fuck out of your boyfriends, even though they would probably never admit it. It was like seeing a soulless person because of the lack of empathy and all.

Though, seeing that happen definitely made them reconsider the thought that you grew up perfectly sane without bottled up issues in southside Chicago — They didn’t realize the bottled up issues was simply your kindness and nice atittude, the main things that literally allows you to get whatever you want from anyone because it’s the easiest way to manipulate others into giving you what you want, and they wouldn’t even realize the manipulation.

That’s your own shit to deal with; you force yourself to be nice and caring, so your apathy wouldn’t come up to the surface and destroy things. However, Ian and Mickey somehow knew none of the nice or caring side you showed to them were fake. Because if they were, would you even be in a relationship with them?

It would probably take a lot of time to figure you out, especially when you seem to like hiding behind the nicest person in southside Chicago mask and never let the surface crack to get even a peek inside, but they were willing to try. You’re their boyfriend after all.

“We’ll figure it out, (Y/n).” Mickey gently says. “We always fucking do. Right, Gallagher?” He smirked at Ian, who instantly nodded with an of course, before Mickey grabbed the back of his head and kissed his lips.

You smiled at them, genuinely.

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.

[hikakuriyyu]

Scream men as your boyfriend (headcanon)

⁎ warnings: fluff, jealousy, a little suggestiveness, nothing too triggering (i hope). female!reader.

⁎ summary: how (modern!au) Billy, Stu, Mickey, Charlie and Ethan would be as your boyfriend.

⁎ author note: i finally finished the Tension series, and i hope you guys enjoyed it. thank you for all the notes and followers :). this is one of the few scream headcanons ill post and ill move to another series/movie !

Billy Loomis:

Billy would be the type to be protective of you, but not in a controlling way. He'd make sure you text him whenever you get home, whenever you went to school, pretty much always. He'd probably scold you in cute way if you texted back a little later than usual. He just wants to make sure you're okay.

One night, you were up studying and fell asleep on your desk. When you wake up, you check your phone and see 2 missed calls and a text: ''You get home safe babe ? You're worrying me.''

Even though he's a great boyfriend, Billy might get a little too jealous sometimes. Like if you're hanging out with someone too much or someone flirts with you, he'd get all quiet and sulky. But he wouldn't make a big deal out of it, he would just do things like squeeze your waist softly or rub your shoulder to let you know he's feeling that way.

You're laughing at something a guy from your class texted you. His jaw tenses for a second before he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. ''He's funny, huh ? I bet I could make you laugh harder though.'' he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. You can feel the jealousy in his grip, but it only makes you smile.

Billy's isn't the kind of guy to use PDA in public, but in private, he'd be really sweet. He'd love cuddling on the couch or giving you affectionate kisses on the neck. He might not say "I love you" all the time, but you'd definitely notice in all the affection he'd give you.

You're watching a movie together, and out of nowhere, Billy leans over and plants a soft kiss on your lips. ''What was that for ?'' you ask, and he just smiles. ''I couldn't resist.''

Stu Macher:

Stu would be the kind of boyfriend who’s constantly cracking jokes, pulling pranks, and making you laugh (duh). There would never be a dull moment with him, and he'd always find a way to lighten the mood, even in serious situations. He's just your goofball.

You were feeling a bit down after a tough day, and as you sit on the couch, Stu sneaks up behind you. He starts tickling you gently, laughing as you squirm. ''You can't be sad when I'm around !'' He leans in closer, a playful grin on his face. Eventually, you start laughing, and the weight of the bad day lifts just a little.

Stu would probably be a traditional romantic. He'd surprise you with surprise dates, flowers and gifts. He'd take you on random adventures, like midnight drives to the beach or makeouts in the car, just to keep things exciting.

One evening, You were along the beach as the sun begins to set. The waves lap at your feet before he playfully splashes you with water. ''Watch it !'' you laugh, trying to dodge him. He grins, swinging his arm around your shoulders. ''I love moments like this.'' he says, looking out at the horizon.

While he might not seem like the type, Stu would be protective if anyone tried to hurt or mess with you. He wouldn't hesitate to stand up for you, even if it isn't even that big of a deal for you.

You're hanging around at a party when someone makes a mean comment about you. Before you can react, Stu is by your side, a serious look on his face. ''Hey, back off. That's my girl you're talking about.'' he says, his tone firm. He turns to you, softening. ''You alright gorgeous ?''

Mickey Altieri:

Mickey would be the kind of boyfriend who knows how to be a fun boyfriend (if you get what i mean lol). He'd love planning stuff, whether it's a surprise date night or a road trip. His playful personality would keep things exciting in the relationship.

While tidying up the living room, you stumble upon a pair of tickets in a drawer. Curious, you pick them up and realize they're for a weekend getaway to a beach house. When Mickey walks in, he sees your surprised expression and leans against the doorframe with a smirk. ''Oh, those ? Just thought it'd be nice to get away for a bit. You know, some privacy, just the two of us.'' he adds, winking playfully.

Mickey would be your biggest cheerleader. He'd always encourage you to chase your dreams and support you through any challenges. When things get tough, he'd be there with comforting words and a listening ear, reminding you that you're never alone.

After getting your test results, you feel defeated since you studied so hard. Mickey sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. ''Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. You did amazing, and I’m proud of you,'' he says softly. ''Want to talk about it ?''

While Mickey would be sweet to you, he'd also have a mischievous side. He'd love teasing you playfully, but it would always come from a place of affection. He'd keep things light-hearted, but he could be amorous when he wants to (sorry 💀).

You're on the couch, attention on the cat curled up in your lap, oblivious to Mickey watching you with a playful pout. After a moment, he leans in, ''I'm still here, you know.'' he jokes, but there’s a hint of longing in his voice. You turn your head, noticing his playful expression. ''What’s the matter ? Jealous ?'' you said. He smirks, his eyes glinting mischievously. ''Maybe. We should make some time for each other... after all, I’m way more fun.''

Charlie Walker:

Charlie would be the type to remember the little things that matter to you. He'd surprise you with thoughtful gestures, like bringing your favorite snacks or buying you books from your favorite author. His romantic side would show in the way he expresses his feelings, making you feel special.

One evening, Charlie walks in with a small gift bag and a big smile. ''I got you something,'' he says, his smile contagious. You peek inside to find a DVD of a new movie from your favorite genre that just came out. ''I remembered how much you talked about wanting to watch it, so I thought we could have a movie night.'' he adds, looking pleased with himself. You feel a warm flutter in your chest, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Charlie would love deep conversations, whether it's about films, philosophy, or conspiracy theories. He'd enjoy sharing his thoughts and listening to yours, building a connection between the two of you. His curiosity would inspire you to think critically, making discussions with him both enlightening and fun.

One afternoon, you and Charlie are curled up on the couch, drowning in eachothers arms. As you chat about a documentary you recently watched, he leans in, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. ''What did you think about their perspective on human nature ?'' he asks, genuinely interested. You dive into your thoughts, and he listens intently, nodding and adding his own insights. The conversation flows easily, and by the end, you both feel more connected than ever.

Charlie would be very in tune with your emotions and needs. He'd notice when you're feeling off and make effort to check in with you, offering comfort and support. Whether it's through small acts of kindness, or just being there to listen, he would always make you feel valued and cared for.

Ethan Landry:

Ethan would have an adorably awkward side that makes him endearing. He might stumble over his words or get flustered during cute moments, but it only adds to his charm. His genuine nature shines through when he tries to express his feelings, making every sweet gesture feel even more special.

You're watching a movie together when Ethan tries to wrap his arm around you but accidentally knocks over the popcorn. He blushes, stammering, ''I swear I'm not usually this clumsy !'' You both burst into laughter, and he sheepishly smiles, ''At least now I have a reason to cuddle you closer.'' His charming awkwardness makes your heart flutter.

Ethan would express his love through acts of service, always looking for little ways to make your life easier. Whether it's surprising you by doing your laundry when you're stressed, helping you with homework, or cooking dinner on a busy night, he'd take pride in taking care of you. His selflessness would show how much he genuinely cares.

After a stressful day, you come home to find Ethan waiting for you with a stack of freshly made study notes and a cup of your favorite tea. He looks up with a bright smile. ''I thought you could use a little help, so I organized everything for you.'' he says, handing you the tea. His thoughtfulness makes you feel appreciated, and you can’t help but smile as you settle in to study together.

Ethan would def be a fan of PDA, always wanting to hold your hand or wrap an arm around you when you're out together. Whether it's at college or out with friends, he'd love to show the people how much he cares about you. He might lean in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek or pull you in for a warm hug, his face lighting up with a smile each time. His affectionate nature would make you feel cherished and appreciated, no matter where you are.

As you sit together on the train, Ethan glances around to see if anyone's watching before subtly reaching for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. He leans back against the seat, a satisfied smile on his face as he casually strokes your hand with his thumb. Every time you catch his eye, he flashes you a shy grin, enjoying the little secret between the two of you. The warmth of his hand in yours makes you feel giddy.

[dearsnow]

MANIC MOVES & DROWSY DREAMS (3)

- after discovering something that forces all of your relationship’s problems to the surface, you seek solace in your only potential friend in san diego. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader, hurt with future comfort, part of the series “out of touch” ⚠️ ADULT TOPICS, please be 18+ to read)

OUT OF TOUCH: It’s been twenty years since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw, and, suddenly, you realize he’s finally grown up.

word count: 3,110

a/n - this chapter is lowkey crazy 😭 i hope y’all enjoy because i’ve had a blast writing this. the next chapter might take a bit to write up because i need to plan out the rest of the series, but it hopefully shouldn’t take tooo long!!

The next few days were relatively uneventful as you attempted to get your life in perfect working order. There were a few visits from the navy men, with Fanboy (who you learned was actually named Mickey) being one of your best customers until he witnessed firsthand your boyfriend giving you flowers and a peck on the cheek. He seemed a bit crestfallen after that, but you knew he would perk up eventually. He hadn’t gone through it for nothing, though- you always slipped him an extra cookie sample when he came by.

The best part of your life was not interviewing potential employees or ordering more vintage tables, but instead, it was Derick. He was truly your rock in the midst of a change that otherwise would’ve thrown you into chaos.

He handled your calls, he mopped the floors and shined the counter, and he took you on amazing dates. You can firmly say that you’ve never had a boyfriend as respectful and supportive as him.

Too respectful, however, is an ever-present problem.

You’ve been with him for almost fifteen years and you can reasonably count the times he’s been anything other than a perfect family-friendly gentleman. If you look back on it, it was probably around fifty-two instances.

That seems like a lot, but spread out over fifteen years of young adult antics, it’s almost like he didn’t want to be intimate. He didn’t want to make out, or put a hand just a bit too low on your waist, or do anything passionate or fiery or heated. He just wanted dinner dates, a kiss on the cheek, and a hand to hold. You were fine with that, because in essence, that’s what you needed at the time, right? Stability. Comfort. Romance. Someone to wipe away your insecurities and hold you down at ground level.

A lingering thought, always bouncing around in the back of your mind, whispers that it shouldn’t take hours of tempting and teasing for a guy to want you.

You ignore all of that for right now. Derick is currently sitting across the table from you at the fanciest restaurant in the area.

Fancy places always make you a little nervous. You’re afraid to say the wrong thing or mispronounce a word on the menu, and your dresses get rumpled as you fidget with them. Even your nail polish doesn’t survive as you pick at the edges with your thumb. Derick smiles.

“What are you thinking about ordering?” He asks, setting his own menu down. You cease your picking and clear your throat. He looks especially nice tonight, with his dark hair gelled back and his black suit nice and crisp. It doesn’t quite fit with your dress, though you suppose it doesn’t need to.

“Uh, the caprese salad sounds good.” It’s the cheapest thing on the menu. He always pays, but you know that he gets a bit bothered when the bill racks up too high. You’ve offered to pay for yourself numerous times, but he waves the suggestion away, even when his face makes it known that he doesn’t want to.

“I make more money than you, babe, just let me take care of it.”

You try to smile sweetly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. If he can tell, he doesn’t show it.

“Sounds good. I’m having the truffle alfredo myself.” He flags down a waiter, and you shrink a bit in your seat.

You can tell that this night is going to be another awkward one. After being with someone for so long, you come to expect certain things. Despite that, you wouldn’t trade this stability for anything. He makes good money, he buys you gifts, and once or twice a year, he’ll even sleep with you. What more could a girl want?

Bradley hasn’t had stability in a long time. He has a home in San Diego, sure, but going out for drinks every once and a while with people who have vastly different schedules isn’t really enough to make him want to stay. In truth, he almost misses being deployed because, at least then, he has a purpose.

When he saw you, he thought he might have an opportunity to right a wrong that has been tearing him up inside. He despises what he was like as a teenager, taking nothing seriously except his dreams to be a naval aviator. He’s learned throughout his life that everything matters, especially the feelings of other people, and even the small, mundane things he couldn’t care less about. The small, mundane things are what keep the world working.

He’s sitting on his couch, enjoying a small, mundane thing (a shitty reality show with acting so bad it makes him laugh) when an unknown number lights up his phone. He perks up, staring at the number as the reality show carries on. It’s probably just a spam number, but on the off chance it’s you, he picks up.

“Hello?” He hates how shaky his voice sounds. Just the idea of you sets his nerves on fire.

“I need a friend,” your soft voice mumbles. “Where can we meet? A place that serves strong alcohol would be preferable.”

Right after your early dinner date with Derick, you walked into your shared apartment, boxes lining every walkway. You really ought to have put everything away more quickly, but after a long day’s work, all you and your boyfriend could seem to do was pull out a few objects and give them a place in your new living quarters.

He immediately went to take a shower, as he usually did after a long day, and placed his locked phone on your nightstand. You collapsed onto your bed and looked up at the ceiling, still dressed, and began to dread opening shop in the morning. You love the cafe, but your lack of employees hits harder every day.

Derick had been handling most of the hiring process, with the good majority of the interviewees being his connections. It was helpful having a business major boyfriend, as his college networking and current accountant networking proved extremely useful for managing an actual business. He was always so enthusiastic about helping you run the place. You seriously don’t know what you would do without him.

His phone lit up next to you with a series of texts. You lazily let your gaze drift over to see what was going on. He wouldn’t mind if you checked who was texting, right? When you picked up his phone, the name that popped up was “employee candidate 4”. You smiled to yourself; Derick was so responsible, you thought. He must have given the candidates his number to see if they needed anything.

You unlocked his phone with your thumbprint, which you so sneakily added to his password bank a few months ago when you first started collaborating on the cafe’s business plan. What you saw made your heart drop down to the floor, splintering into a million little pieces that got stuck in your fresh linoleum.

Bradley hands you another drink, a strong one at that, and you gulp half of it down in one breath. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

You look up at him through your eyelashes, makeup half-rubbed off from tears and friction. The sun began to set when you first entered, and in the dimming light, Bradley could tell that you were rattled. You still are, evidently. He waits for a moment before you clear your throat and offer a few gut-punching words.

“I checked my boyfriend’s phone.” He can tell where this is going. He doesn’t want it to be true, because who in their right mind would cheat on you?

“What was on it?” He prompts gently. You take another breath. You don’t want to dump this all on someone that you barely know, with the only history you have being a failed almost-relationship when you were teenagers, but you don’t have anyone else. When you moved to San Diego, you left everything behind, including your friends and family. You haven’t even talked to your friends in ages, as you’ve been so busy with the cafe and Derick that you couldn’t so much as call them. The idea of having Bradley nurse your broken heart is both gut-wrenching and just a little bit like a dream.

“A lot. I… I don’t want to ruin your night by bothering you. I should go.” You try to stand up from your bar stool, but he catches your wrist in his warm hands.

He shakes his head, eyebrows creased. “Just tell me. I’m here for you; I meant what I said in the cafe.” You nod, fresh tears welling up in your eyes as you sit down.

“I’ll get a few drinks in me first.”

You keep your word, managing to take down a sizable amount of alcohol within a few minutes. It’s not enough to get you passing out or throwing up, but enough to loosen your lips.

“Do you want to know what I saw?” Your face is warm, either from the alcohol or Bradley’s hand on your back. “Twenty-eight photos of his dick. It isn’t even good enough to warrant one photo, Bradley, one! None of them were sent to me, of course. Just the girls he would chat up online and fuck.” The words tumble out of your mouth, every pent-up frustration making its way into the light of the bar. “I looked through his search history, too, and then our finances, because I was suspicious of everything at that point. I found four subscriptions to porn sites in our bills and three more for online dating premium memberships. Who the fuck even needs a premium membership? God. I hate him.”

“Slow down, princess.” He says. His lips are quirked into a small smile as you ramble on and on about every small thing Derick has ever done to piss you off. “He seems like a real piece of work.”

“He is! He so is. I never get to order what I want, he always makes me feel responsible for his mistakes, and not once has he made me finish. I mean, we’ve had sex maybe twice in the last two years because he can’t get it up. Probably because he’s been sticking his dick in STD central.” Those last few items slip through your internal filter, but even in your state, you recognize that you probably shouldn’t be talking about your sex life with a guy you re-met a few days ago. “Sorry. That was personal.”

Bradley lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Nothin’ I can’t handle. I can’t believe you stayed with him that long when he can’t do a single thing for you. If you were my girl, you wouldn’t know a day without pleasure.” It’s his turn to be embarrassed about what he said, but as his cheeks turn red, you don’t even seem to notice.

If you were his girl, he thinks, he’d treat you so well. He’d actually get you your favorite flowers instead of the ones he thinks would look nice in the aesthetic of your apartment, and he’d cook for you, and he’d never make you feel bad for loving him.

“Exactly.” You say. “He just wanted someone to come home to without even thinking about how I would feel. I wanted stability, and he gave me that, but nothing else.” You suddenly sound sober, but the tears are back, and they’re stronger than ever. “I loved him.” You choke out. “I don’t think I could ever get something better, not after so long.”

Bradley feels bad for even considering picking you up after this. You’re distraught, more than he’s ever seen anyone before. It’s clear that this is something you’re going to take a while to heal from. “You can and you will. He’s a dick, and I’m sorry you wasted so much time on him, but you will find some kind of relationship that deserves you. You can have a fresh start, and he’ll just be another asshole that you put in your past.”

You nod, taking in his words as you sip your soda. Bradley cut you off a while ago, which you’re eternally grateful for. If you had one more sip of alcohol, you think you'd either be dancing on a table or crying on the floor. Now, at least you’re crying upright in a stool, with the man across from you handing you tissues once in a while. The lady running the bar seems to know him, and she also seems to know that an endless supply of tissues is necessary for you tonight.

The doors of the bar open, and though you don’t want to peel yourself away from the sight of someone caring about you, you turn around anyway. When you do, your blood runs cold.

Bradley sees you stiffen and follows your line of sight to the person that just walked in. He’s handsome, in a way, with short, dark brown hair and a five-o-clock shadow. He seems like the stuck-up type. Your eyes are blown wide at the sight as the man walks over, a sort of fake concern lacing his expression.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking call me that, Derick. How did you even find me?” Oh. The soon-to-be ex. Bradley sits up on his stool, pulling himself to a position where he can easily stand if the moment calls for it.

Derick pulls out his phone sheepishly. “You left your location on.”

Goddamnit. Fuck.

“Get out. I don’t want to see you right now.” You’re seething, the anger coming off you in waves. You think that if you weren’t angry, you’d be sad, and you can’t handle that right now. The devastation of finding out your boyfriend is a freak and a cheater is something you just opened the box to, and you don’t feel like unpacking it in front of him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He protests. “They didn’t mean anything to me. I love you, and I want to marry you, and I’ll never do it again. I- I have the ring right here, see?” He pulls out a familiar velvet-lined box, and you scoff.

“You should’ve thought about that before you cheated. Multiple times.”

Bradley stands up, placing a soothing hand between your shoulder blades. “Leave, man. She’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want you here.”

Derick bristles, his pasty face tinged red with anger. Bradley almost rolls his eyes at how small he looks. “You don’t need to stick up for her.” He takes a step forward. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were fucking her behind my back. That’s what this is, isn’t it? An excuse for you to leave me because some navy fucker had some nice enough sex with you?” He’s approaching fast. By the time he finishes his sentence, Derick’s fist is wrapped around your wrist tightly.

You let out a soft sound as his bruising fingers close around you, but as soon as he’s there, Bradley shoves him away and loosens his grip on you. “Okay, that’s enough. You’re either going to walk through those doors or you’re getting dragged out. I don’t care which.”

Derick scoffs. “Fine with me. I never liked you anyways.” He gives you a pointed glance, tucking the ring box into his jacket pocket.

“You have tonight to get your stuff out of the apartment that I paid for.” You say, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your thumb. “I never want to see you again.” The second part comes out as a mumble, but he clearly gets the message.

“Fuck you.” He walks out, and the group of navy men by the door give him a dirty look. He’s more than ruined multiple peoples’ nights by this point. It went from one crying girl at a bar to the start of a bar fight in the two minutes he stood in front of you.

Bradley, concerned, gives you a soft look. “Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

You shake your head as more tears drip down your jaw. You hate this. You hate Derick, you hate yourself, and you hate the pitiful way Bradley is staring at you. Your California dream has turned into a nightmare. “No, but I’ll get a hotel somewhere. It’s not that big of a deal.” Your attempt to downplay the situation has Bradley on the verge of running after Derick and slapping the back of his big groomed head. You’re too nice for this, too sweet to be cheated on and forced to sleep in a cold bed that you paid $200 for.

“You can stay over at my place if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t want to put you out like that. It’s fine,” you assure him, though your voice is the least sure it’s ever been. “There’s a nice enough place a few streets away.”

Bradley shakes his head. His warm hand is on your shoulder, like he’s trying to ground you. “It won’t put me out. C’mon, princess, it’s not a big deal. You can rest up and we’ll figure out what else to do in the morning.”

He called you “princess” again. It’s nice, you think, in your drunken mind. Right now, you’re too tired to fight anything about the situation you’re in. “Alright. As long as you’re sure.”

He pays your tabs, slipping a look to the lady running the bar. She nods at him and mouths something that you can’t quite make out. As he leads you to his car, a nice, blue, vintage bronco, he keeps one hand on the small of your back. The heat feels nice, like you have someone securing you. Like you won’t ever stumble or fall before his strong arms catch you. He must be a real nice guy if he’s doing all this after so long.

He buckles you into your seat, and you let your head fall back onto the headrest. Your eyes close, and you desperately try not to think about what your life has come to. You feel a buzz in your jacket pocket, but you don’t pick it up. Everything is fine, you assure yourself. You didn’t just break up with the man you were going to marry, and he didn’t cheat on you, and your phone isn’t going off wildly through the fabric of your coat, and you’re not strapped into the car of your high school self’s dream boy. You ride that feeling, that denial, right into sleep.

You’ll deal with the real life problems in the morning.

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Taglist: @m1dnightsnackz @itsarabellebabes @shanimallina87 @sadgirlgiselle @callsignstingray

[ladykakata]

Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich are honestly good influences on each other

I swear I'll write proper posts sometime, but it's been swilling around my head with my other thoughts, so I might as well put it down here.

Mickey and Ian are chaotic nonsense idiots, and yet I cannot argue they don't have a good as well as bad influence on each other and that develops as they age (and constantly get pulled back together whenever they break up lmao).

Ian's influence on Mickey

It's a running joke that Mickey in the early series is this filthy goblin just running around being a hoodlum and ... yeah, he is lmao. But it's very notable as the series progresses that he starts becoming cleaner and dressing nicer the more time he spends with Ian. The man specifically wore a shirt to see Ian in the mental ward ffs. Not only that he actually *tries* working a normal job and socialising, something he is deeply uncomfortable with, but does it for Ian's sake. It doesn't escape my notice that he specifically wants to work with Ian whenever he can, probably tying in to my earlier point that he is only completely comfortable around Ian.

If you told S1 Mickey he would be helping his paraplegic father into the house and getting home nursing for him, he would wonder what kind of sick joke you were playing. But he does, something that even surprises Ian at first. Ian inspires Mickey to talk more about his feelings, he openly admits to thinking about missing Ian, whereas before he threatened to cut Ian's tongue out for saying that Ian missed Mickey. The idea of Mickey changing ANYTHING for anyone else is foreign ... but not if Ian suggests it to him the right way.

Ian's non-judgemental or at least lightly judgemental treatment of Mickey allows the man to be far more comfortable with himself. Though still highly defensive, I think it's telling Mickey is completely unashamed to be a bottom in front of Ian, and Mickey can make socially awkward gestures or gaffs and Ian doesn't upbraid him or make him feel like shit for doing the 'wrong' thing. Hell, as much as Ian was utterly, UTTERLY confused at Mickey's groomzilla episode, he mostly kept his confusion silent and simply reined Mickey in when he was losing his temper with vendors. The flower shop scene has Mickey blithely retorting that while Ian was gay, he 'just likes having another man's dick in my ass'. Ian in the same scene was tensing his jaw at the homophobia from the florist, and normally Mickey is quick to snap at anyone who considers him gay ("You calliin' me gay?" before slamming a bar owner's head into the counter), he simply bats it away as he's more focused on the flowers he wants and only becomes aggressive when the services are threatened to be withdrawn. Ian was always sure and comfortable with his sexuality and had little to no tolerance of homophobia, whereas Mickey was in either strict denial or profoundly uncomfortable and highly secretive.

Mickey's influence on Ian

The most obvious one is that Mickey was Ian's guardian during his bipolar struggles once Mickey finally realised what a problem it as, and he was determined to nurse Ian until he recognised (to his horror) he couldn't deal with this on his own and Ian really did need professional nursing and help.

What strikes me in a lot of scenes, both before and after that arc, is that Ian almost has Mickey as a constant in his life. It's a topic more for aspects of Ian's personality, but Mickey was the person Ian turned to when he had no-one else in S1, when he was in the 72 hour psychiatric hold he explicitly says 'Mickey is waiting for me'. Ian's life is constant chaos, much like Mickeys, and Ian is the sort of person who needs and thrives on structure when his brain isn't acting out. Mickey was a constant, someone to always come back to and someone he could rely on. In a way, I also see Mickey as someone who can be the impulsive one of the pair, letting Ian take the role of the mediator. It's easier for you to resist your own stupid impulses if your override kicks in because someone else is doing something foolish.

As much as I joke that Ian is the only person Mickey listens to, the same happens the other way around in the bipolar arc. During Ian's Military Police hallucination, it was Mickey who broke through the delusion after the shock of almost attacking Debbie brought Ian abruptly back to reality. Even as Mickey at first acts with his typical aggression ("There's nothin' out there! Fuckin' look!") and literally dragging him to the front door to prove the other side is the same, he gently reassures Ian that everything is alright and herds him upstairs to get dressed. Mickey made sure to get explicit instructions on Ian's medication and even measured it out for him ("Shut up and take your pills, bitch" is still one of my favourite lines).

I had more thoughts but my brain is soup and I still want to do a post on Ian's mental health and how he interacts with the world.

Send a prompt or aspect of these two if you want to hear me talk absolute garbage about these lovesick idiots