mmmichyyy
☆michelle☆
she/her
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already completed four prompts and currently have four more in my inbox, thanks to everyone who sent one in <3 i've been working on them slowly during my downtime at work, but i'll get through them all eventually i promise!
thanks to everyone for sending in prompts for the drabble game, i will work on them when i get back home <3
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Part vi number 18 and 8 👀
8. “Kiss me, I can’t wait any longer.”
18. “It’s so hot when you talk like that.”
it's been a long night. the mission was a success and the team is celebrating - using a chunk of the stolen cash to fill their stomachs with food and good wine at the vacant building they renovated into their hideout.
it's been a long night, and it's made even longer by how ian hasn't had a single moment alone with mickey since the heist started. since mickey had to concentrate on doing his thing with the wires and ian had to put on his tux, blending in with the gala's diamonds and furs. pretending to be someone you're not is hard in a room full of rich snobs. it's even harder in a room full of people who think they know you from top to bottom.
because they don't. these people are his family - they have been for years - but they don't know what makes ian tick. what's most important to him. the way his heart pulses and fingers itch for the man across the table from him.
his team is his family, but they don't know that he and mickey are fucking.
they can't. it would complicate too much. they'd start going off about how emotions like that can fuck with the plan. how their entire mission can go haywire if something happened to one of them. and they're right. it would. ian would scrap an entire weeks-long pursuit the fucking second he saw something happen to mickey. he cares too much. he's a fucking liability.
so they don't tell them. they keep their nights together to themselves. keep how long they've been doing this a secret. act normal and cordial and friendly on the outside, even when one shared look across the table sends pulses of want and desire through ian so powerful that he has to swallow down another gulp of wine, their heavy gaze never leaving each other once.
because it's been a long night. he hasn't had a chance to touch mickey. to reward him for a job well done in his own way. to look him over and smooth him out and exist with him, away from the others. alone. together.
the team is his family, but they don't know that he told mickey he's in love with him last night. they have no idea how powerful the wave of delight in his soul was when mickey said it back to him. to them, they're just ian and mickey. two members of the team who have gone quiet now, content with stealing glances across the table with heavy, wine-drunk eyes.
they can't know. and ian is two seconds away from reaching across the table and pulling mickey's hand into his own, so he forces himself to get up, stepping away from the table.
he disappears into one of the bedrooms - the one with the big floor to ceiling windows that look out into the abandoned building's courtyard. it's quiet here. peaceful. he can hear exactly how hard his pulse is thumping in his eardrums while everyone else carries on in the main room.
because he's good at slipping away without causing attention to it. it's how he joined the team in the first place. but there's one person who tracked his entire exit. he's fucking banking on it.
behind him, the door shuts. the lock clicks.
and when ian turns, the warmth that was being pushed down all night blooms fully and heavily in his chest.
mickey takes him in just as hungrily, the grin that's pulling the corner of his mouth so good that ian needs to chase after it. "kiss me," mickey murmurs, already stepping toward him on the momentum they've been building across the table, "can't wait any fuckin' longer."
it's got ian's heart soaring. has something almost animalistic rumbling in his chest as he steps forward too, fucking finally, because christ... "it's so fucking hot when you talk like that."
and when they meet in the middle of the room, it's with hands grabbing - feeling - running over ian's shoulders and holding mickey's face and they pull themselves together so tightly that ian can taste blood as their mouths clash.
but it's what he's been craving all night. it's what keeps him going, mickey just as hungry for it as he starts walking him backward until ian's back is pressed against the window.
they probably shouldn't be doing this here. not right now, at least. they're celebrating in the other room, after all.
but nothing is more important to ian than this man. this moment. this thing that they've made with each other.
and soon, it will be too big to hide.
[ send me a smutty one-liner ]
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just ian and mickey holding hands and cuddling like the married couple they are
yea yea yea YEAAA!
they can do this at all times and everywhere and anywhere!
when they're cozy at home. in the early mornings when neither of them wants to get up yet. bathed in soft light. giving each other soft little kisses and holding. just holding and breathing each other in. touching foreheads and talking in whispers and booping their noses.
and at night after they've finished ravishing each other. completely spent and satisfied and tangled and marked up. trying to catch their breaths and slow their heartbeats, but refusing to let go. still breathing each other in and kissing and kissing and kissing. not being able to stop just yet. because they want to. because they can.
and in the gallagher house huddled up on the couch. watching a movie with the siblings but still gravitating towards each other. mickey throwing his leg over ian's. ian grabbing mickey's hand and playing with his fingers. mickey tucking his face into ian's neck when he gets bored and ian threading his fingers in his hair.
and in the pool when they're sunbathing. mickey sitting in between ian's legs and letting him lather sunscreen on his back. ian taking his time and massaging it in. leaning forward and placing kisses on his shoulder, his back, the back of his neck. wrapping his arms around mickey's waist when he's done and pulling him back into his chest.
and in the ambulance when they're in the middle of a work day. placing little kisses on the back of each other's hands and wrists and sneaking in a little finger nibble. taking turns holding on to each other's thighs, running their palms up and down and up up up.
and in the laundry room. and in the supermarket. and in the pharmacy.
and on date nights. and on nights in. and on happy days. and on low days.
and forever.
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42+74?
#42: "stop being so cute" & #74: "i'm not wearing a tie"
"mick, you need any help in there?"
"fuck off!"
ian rolls his eyes, even though mickey can't see him. "stop being such a drama queen and show me."
the door to the thrift store changing room slowly cracks open and ian stifles back a laugh at the sight of his frowning boyfriend looking like a cute feral chipmunk, drowning in a light grey suit that's clearly two sizes too big on him.
"tell me again," mickey groans, tugging at his shirt collar, "why the hell are we wasting money on a stupid school dance?"
"because," ian starts, reaching out his pointer finger to boop mickey's nose. mickey scowls, swatting his hand away. "it's prom - our last hurrah before we graduate and leave high school behind. it'll be fun!"
"i look fuckin' ridiculous," mickey mutters under his breath, pulling at the excess fabric on the jacket and pants. "nothing fits me."
ian sighs and rests his chin on top of mickey's shoulder. he wraps his arms around mickey's waist from behind and turns them both to face the mirror. mickey tenses for moment, twists his neck around to check if anyone's around, before relaxing and leaning back into ian's chest.
"vee has a sewing machine, she can help you tailor to your measurements. plus," ian adds teasingly, "i think my boyfriend looks cute in a suit. we're definitely going to be the hottest couple there."
"bitch, stop calling me cute."
"well, stop being so cute, then!"
"ugh, why do i put up with you?"
ian smacks an obnoxious kiss on mickey's warm cheek. "because you love me, asshole. and i know secretly, deep down, you know you're adorable."
mickey rolls his eyes, but ian can see mickey biting back a smile. "fine. but i'm not wearing a tie or a corsage, though. too fuckin' gay."
ian grins, already knowing his boyfriend will change his mind once he sees the blue stargazer lily corsage he ordered.
"whatever you say, mick."
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NOEL FISHER as MICKEY MILKOVICH
╰┈➤ SHAMELESS SEASON 4
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michelle <3 “You’re seriously like a man-child.” please, if the spirit moves you.
#8: "you're seriously like a man-child."
"how many more do i need to sign?"
a heavy cardboard box is dropped on the table, right beside the stacks of books he spent the past hour signing.
"a hundred more and you can take a break."
"a hundred?!" mickey exclaims. "how many people are even coming today? and why the fuck do people need my signature anyway?
"the coordinator said over two hundred people signed up for the event," sandy says, not looking up from her phone. "surprise - people actually like your book and they want to meet you."
"you know i hate small talk," mickey grumbles, massaging his cramping wrist. "if i knew this was part of the book tour, i would've never agreed to it."
sandy rolls her eyes. "god, you're seriously like a man-child. does cranky baby need a nap? a juice-box? a smoke?"
mickey throws a sharpie at sandy, which she dodges with a laugh. "get me a snickers bar and i'll contemplate not firing you."
"good luck finding someone who will put up with your ass," sandy snorts.
"ahem."
mickey looks up to ian, the tall redhead bookstore owner standing by the door, looking sheepish and scratching his head.
"just checking in. everything okay in here? do you need anything before the event mr. milkovich?"
"actually," sandy starts, "he'd love a pacifier for his afternoon nap–"
"fuck off," mickey cuts his cousin off, ignoring her snickering in the background. "you got any smokes, red?"
ian pats around his jeans pocket and pulls out a crumpled pack of marlboros. "i was just about to go for a smoke break, actually."
mickey pushes up from his chair and grabs the pack from ian's hand. "let's fucking go, then."
sandy watches in amusement as mickey struts out of the room with a smirk on his face, and she catches the way ian not-so-subtly checks out her cousin's backside before hurrying after him.
guess mickey found someone to put up with his ass. literally.
#hi ray 👋🖤#this was fun to write!#in my mind mickey is an artist and wrote/drew a graphic novel about a boy living in the southside and discovering he has superpowers#gallavich ficlet#gallavich fic#my words#gallavich#ask game
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#17 or #89 :)
this one was more fun than i thought it would be, I wanted Ian to cuss her out real housewives style, but i think he's learning to take the highroad
89. You’re not interested, are you? X 17. Good thing I didn’t ask for you opinion
Ian kept meeting up with Jill after they met for the first time at the pool, even though it seemed like her husband was steering clear of them after Mickey’s chair situation.
That was a couple weeks ago now, Mickey had chilled out slightly. After deciding that they would stay in the apartment he’d pulled out the wedding notebook, much to Ian’s horror, and switched the wedding magazines out for interior decoration. He was upstairs painting one of their bedroom walls as they sat out by the pool and Ian decompressed from the experience of picking paint with him.
If Ian was being entirely honest, Jill bugged the shit out of him. After getting his number, she was texting him to hang out all the time, and Ian didn’t know how to tell her no, even as it became clear they had nothing in common. The surest way he’d figured out to get her to fuck off was to say that Mickey would be coming, which usually got their plans canceled in about five minutes flat.
“What do you think of him?” Jill asked conspiratorially from her pool lounger.
“Who?” Ian asked, lifting his head up.
“Trey?” Jill said, like it was obvious.
Ian followed her gaze and finally saw the blonde guy from earlier getting out go the pool. It only took about 30 seconds of talking to him at the gym to realize he was a fucking asshole.
Still, Ian wasn’t going to tell her that. “He’s fine,” he responded noncommittally.
“You mean he’s fine” she laughed suggestively. “He just broke up with his ex-boyfriend Kris before you moved in, I could introduce you two properly if you want.”
“Thanks, but we’ve actually already met.”
“And you’re not interested, are you?” Jill asked disappointedly.
“I’m married,” Ian said confusedly. “You remember my husband, Mickey? He’s kind of hard to forget.”
“Obviously I remember your husband” Jill huffed out. “It’s just that- Ian, can I be frank with you?”
“Be my guest,” Ian responded, rolling his eyes.
“Just because we fall in love with someone while we’re stuck in” Jill held her breath as she searched for the right words, explaining to Ian like he was a child “a less than ideal place in life, doesn’t mean we need to stay with them forever. Your husband - Mickey, clearly doesn’t belong here and you do! Sorry but that’s just my opinion.”
“Well, Jill, it’s a good thing I didn't ask for your opinion” Ian said sarcastically. “In my opinion it’s weird that you want to spend every day with your new gay best friend and check out guys at the pool instead of hanging out with your husband, which is what I would rather be doing, by the way.”
Ian stood up and put his shirt back on, “and, if I belong here, then Mickey belongs here. Because I belong wherever the hell he is, and if you bothered to try to find someone you feel that way about instead of eyeing anyone who’s only personality is their six pack you might realize that love is all about finding someone you love at every place in life.”
He fumed all the way up to their apartment until he burst into their bedroom, where Mickey was shirtless, blasting music and methodically painting the wall a rich, royal blue. All the fight left Ian’s body as he appreciated the way the blue complimented the cool tones in Mickey’s hair and skin.
Instead of whipping him around and working all his anger out right there on the bedroom floor he slowly made his way over to the window and opened it, letting out some of the paint fumes. Mickey was working hard to make sure their bedroom was nice, so Ian could at least let him finish before they addressed his pent up energy. He lowered the music and collapsed on their air matress in the middle of the room, grabbing his book from the floor.
“What are you doing back so early?” Mickey said, in lieu of greeting. “I thought Miss Priss was stealing you away all afternoon.”
“Fuck her” Ian said with a grin, knowing Mickey would be thrilled to hear him say it. “I wanted to come up here and watch you instead, so get to work.”
hope you liked it!
Prompt game fun!
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‘ don’t tell me i’m fucking cute! ‘
mickey milkovich as snoopy
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hey michelle, 19 or 91? have some fun :)
#91: "tell me you need me."
"say it."
"fuck you," mickey spits out. "i ain't sayin' shit."
"fine." ian shrugs. spins the knife between his fingers, the silver blade glistening under the moonlight. "your funeral."
the zipties around mickey's wrists and ankles dig deep into his skin, slowly cutting off his circulation. he's running out of time - the rest of the mafia will be back soon, and his only way to escape is the ginger motherfucker in front of him.
"three words, milkovich. three words and you're free."
the smug asshole. if he doesn't die tonight, he's going to kill his partner.
ian presses the tip of the knife under mickey's chin, forcing him to look up.
"tell me you need me," ian whispers.
the sound of footsteps grows louder.
fuck it. fuck it all.
"ineedyou," mickey mumbles.
ian cups his hand around his ear. "can't hear you."
"oh for fuck's sake–i need you, okay gallagher?" mickey yells. "now are you going to cut me free or not?!"
ian grins, and mickey knows his partner is never going to let him live this down.
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Hi Michelle!
71 or 81 for the fic game please? 💖
#81: "hold still"
"stop moving."
maybe he shouldn't go out tonight. maybe he should call in sick. why is he going to work when he doesn't know where mickey is?
"ian," mandy hisses again. "hold still."
but they need money. that's what mickey said, right? just a couple more shifts and he can stop. just a few more nights and–
"ian." the exasperation is clear in her voice. "i can't draw your eyeliner if you keep twitching."
he doesn't realize how much he's shaking until mandy places a hand on his knee. he lets out a breath.
"when did mick say he'll be back again?"
mandy doesn't say anything for a moment, just continues to gently glide the pencil liner along his closed eyelid.
"give him some time," she finally says. "he'll come around eventually."
"but what if he doesn't?" his heart is beating a hundred miles a second, threatening to jump out of his chest. "what if he's gone for good? the video, it didn't mean anything, i did it for the money. he knows that right? it didn't mean anything."
mandy stops. leans back in her chair and looks at him - resigned, mixed in with pity, perhaps, and a tinge of sadness.
"you fucked someone else," she sighs, and his pulse comes to a complete stop. "how did you think he was going to react?"
he stares down at his hands. where did he get the cuts from? the bruises? he doesn't know. can't recall.
he doesn't remember a lot of things from the past few weeks, actually.
"i don't know," he says quietly. "i wasn't thinking, i guess."
"well." mandy swipes her thumb on the edge of his tear duct, smudging out the eyeliner. "if there's one thing i know about my brother, it's that he always keeps his promises. if he said he's coming back, then he will." she looks right into his eyes, unflinching. "the question is, are you going to wait for him?"
before he can answer, the front door opens.
#hi callie thanks for the prompt!#here's some light angst!#gallavich ficlet#gallavich fic#ask game#my words
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thanks to everyone for sending in prompts for the drabble game, i will work on them when i get back home <3
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Drabble Challenge!
Repost this. Followers/Readers send numbers to your Ask. You write a fic/drabble using that line in your piece. Have fun! Expect a ton of requests!!
“That’s starting to get annoying”
“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
“You can’t just sit there all day.”
“I’m too sober for this.”
“I’m not here to make friends.”
“I need a place to stay.”
“Well, that’s tragic.”
“You’re seriously like a man-child.”
“You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”
“The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”
“Dear Diary, …”
“She’s hiding behind the sofa.”
“I lost our baby.”
“They’re so cute when they’re asleep.”
“I’d kill for a coffee…literally.”
“You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”
“Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“You’re Satan.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuse. You can’t just give me wet-willies.”
“I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.”
“Did you just hiss at me?”
“Do you really need all that candy?”
“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”
“I swear, I’m not crazy!!!”
“The diamond in your engagement ring is fake.”
“No. Regrets.”
“How drunk was I?”
“How is my wife more badass than me?”
“Be you. No one else can.”
“I haven’t slept in ages.”
“I locked the keys in the car.”
“Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”
“You work for me. You are my slave.”
“Take your medicine.”
“They’re monsters.”
“Welcome to fatherhood.”
“Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”
“It’s your turn to make dinner.”
“The kids, they ambushed me.”
“Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass!!!”
“Stop being so cute.”
“I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“You need to see a doctor.”
“You’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final.”
“I was a joke, baby. I swear.”
“Dogs don’t wear clothes!”
“I didn’t think you could get any less romantic…”
“Safety first. What are you? FIVE?”
“This is girl talk, so leave.”
“Where am I going? Crazy. Wanna come?”
“There’s a herd of them!”
“Do you think I’m scared of a woman?”
“They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.”
“You’re a nerd.”
“I’m late.”
“Just get home as soon as possible, okay?!”
“You smell like a wet dog.”
“I could punch you right now.”
“Are you going to talk to me?”
“Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”
“If you can’t sleep…we could have sex?”
“Flea markets don’t carry fleas, you know?”
“Here, take my blanket.”
“I don’t want you to stop.”
“How could I ever forget about you?”
“You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”
“Run for it!”
“We need to talk.”
“Not everyone is out to get you. Stop thinking that. It’s annoying.”
“I want a pet.”
“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”
“I’m not wearing a dress.”
“I’m not wearing a tie.”
“Quit beating me up!”
“Please put your penis away.”
“It’s a Texas thing.”
“Don’t argue. Just do it.”
“I hope I’m never stuck with you on a deserted island.”
“Does he know about the baby?”
“Hold still.”
“I just ironed these pants!”
“Enough with the sass!”
“Show me what’s behind your back.”
“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”
“Fine, don’t say anything and make me worry.”
“Stay awake.”
“STOP INTERRUPTING ME!”
“You’re not interested, are you?”
“I’m not buying ikea furniture again.”
“Tell me you need me.”
“Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.”
“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”
“I had a bad dream again.”
“Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.”
“It’s Christmas, don’t be mad at me.”
“You’re not going to starve yourself on Thanksgiving.”
“The store ran out of Easter eggs.”
“How could you forget your son’s birthday?”
“You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”
Visit @prompt-bank for more prompts!!
#i haven't written anything in a hot minute but this could be fun#in the mood for some light angst maybe#hi
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67 for the drabble challenge:>>
Hey Jade! Thanks for asking, hope you don't mind that i turned your bloody ask into something a little more domestic
67. “You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”
Ian had just run out of Lip and Tami’s housewarming party for more soda, he’d barely been gone five minutes but the scene he returned to was far from the relatively banal Sunday afternoon barbecue he'd left behind.
“Oh Jesus, I think it’s broken” Debbie was shrieking.
“It’s not broken,” Lip argued dismissively. “Mickey, lean your fucking head back.”
“I think he has to go further back, like lean his head back off the edge of the table to keep the blood in” Carl chimed in.
“I’m not fuckin’ doing that” Mickey’s muffled voice snapped.
“Yeah, definitely don’t” Liam said nervously.
“Mickey, shut up. Every time you open your mouth you’re bleeding all over my carpet!” Tami snapped.
“What the hell happened?” Ian interrupted, taking in the scene in the living room. Lip had a bloody cloth pressed none too gently against the lower half of Mickey’s face, everyone else was crowded around the couch eyeing him curiously, especially Franny, who was trying to get a peak around the cloth.
For a second, all the heads in the room snapped to him and no one said anything. The perfect stillness was broken by Freddy’s barely stifled sniffles finally pouring over into real tears, as he dropped the baseball he was holding and brought both chubby kid hands up to cover his eyes.
It was pretty easy to put together what happened, he had been so thrilled to start his first tee-ball season, for a second Ian worried that this would ruin the sensitive kid’s excitement.
“I’m so sorry,” he wailed. Mickey shrugged Lip off of him, revealing the path of blood gushing from his nose and down the front of his mouth and chin. Someone drew in a harsh breath at the sight, but Mickey just leaned forward towards where Freddy was watching him pitifully.
“Look kid, you don’t gotta’ apologize to me. It was an accident, accidents happen. I’m a little bloody but I still have all my teeth” Mickey started, showing off his teeth, blood stained but thankfully intact.
He sniffed and winced slightly but recovered quickly. “Just be more careful where you throw that thing, got it?” He said, nodding at the baseball and the small red stain it left on the beige rug Tami was so worried about.
“I’ll be careful Uncle Mickey,” Fred agreed hastily, watching him with wide, tearful eyes.
“Okay, go get me some frozen peas, you know where they are right?” Mickey said easily, leaning back with the towel back on his face.
Freddy ran back into the kitchen excitedly, happy enough to have a sense that he could help make it better. Everyone dispersed from there, and Lip walked over to join his bother.
“The worst thing you’ve ever done to me was make Mickey Milkovich my kid’s favorite Uncle,” Lip joked as he took the soda out of a shocked Ian’s hand, freeing him from his spot in the entry way so he could intercept Fred on his way back to the living room. Ian took the cold peas with a ruffle through his blonde curls and sent him off gently with Franny.
“He got you good, huh?” Ian said, wrapping the ice pack in a towel and pressing it gently against the damaged area slowly turning purple.
“The kid has an arm like Greg fuckin’ Maddux” Mickey groaned quietly, finally dropping the brave face he was putting on for Fred. “This shit hurts like hell.”
Ian settled next to him on the couch, hold the bundle to his enflamed skin. “You were very nice, might have saved his future professional career” he joked.
“What am I going to do, give him the Terry Milkovich special?” Mickey shrugged uncomfortably after a beat.
“Nah,” Ian said lightly, tipping Mickey back gently with a hand on the back of his neck. “Come on, we can get you in a dark, air-conditioned room with extra strength Tylenol. Let’s just grab a couple plates of food, they owe us.”
“Sounds great” Mickey responded sarcastically. “Nothing goes with the taste of blood like your sisters shitty potato salad.”
Ian ran off to collect some food before returning to the living room and guiding Mickey out.
"-was an ugly fucking carpet anyways."
hope you liked it!
Prompt game fun!
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just realized that i've never mentioned all my completed ones are up in a nice neat place, so here we are :)
in the meantime, do you wanna take the challenge? what's been your favorite board to daydream for so far?
[ read on archive of our own ]
[ take the challenge on tumblr ]
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various moments on ledges in ian & mickey's lives as their connection ebbs and flows throughout the years.
chapter 5: prison (2.5k words)
After the steel door slams shut and darkness fills the cell, after the initial shock of seeing the love of his life again turns into pure joy, Ian can’t keep his hands off of Mickey. Doesn’t think he can go another second without immersing himself in Mickey’s warmth, Mickey’s skin, Mickey’s everything.
It’s really you, he whispers. You’re here, he repeats. You’re real, over and again and over again.
Fingers brush against his cheek, lips press gently along the curve of his jaw, their chests moulded against each other, heartbeat to heartbeat. Even in the dark Ian wants to memorize every feature of Mickey’s face, study Mickey’s features in every setting. Drink up every emotion, absorb every expression. Maybe in the morning he’ll wake up and it’ll all be a dream, a wonderful dream he wishes he never woke up from. But even in his most delusional state he could never imagine Mickey like this, here, with him, alive and real and breathing.
So he clings tightly, digs his fingernails into skin and flesh because there’s a chance one day everything will be snatched away from him. People leave, memories fade, life moves on. But he doesn’t want to forget Mickey. He doesn’t want to forget the moments they spent together. He tried, but he can’t, because it’s Mickey. Forever etched under his skin, flowing freely in his veins, pumping oxygen to his lungs, carrying blood and energy and life itself to his heart. No one else even came close, and no one else ever will.
I’m here, Ian, Mickey whispers. And I’m not going anywhere.
🖤 read the rest on ao3 🖤 catch up on the previous chapters 🖤
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Both Sides Now
In 2011, Ian and Mickey struggle with conflicting desires as their relationship grows. When the universe decides to drop them in 2024, their older selves balance the task of setting them on the right path while grappling with their history.
Spoiler alert: it all works out in the end.
Part 2: Tears and Fears and Feeling Proud
Thank you to anyone who's read or enjoyed or left feedback on this fic!
#absolutely stunning and gorgeous#i can't stop staring at every frame#wow wow wow#🥺🥺🥺#gallavich fan art#gallavich fic rec
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Gallavich Fanart Masquerade 2024
It's here! Our first ever fanart-only event (thanks @michellemisfit for the idea!).
The rules are pretty similar to the fanfiction masquerade. In a Masquerade, artists will create fanarts anonymously, attempting to create something in a style different from their usual in order to fool the "admirers". These fanarts will all be revealed at the same time on May 12th - our Fanart Masquerade Ball! - and admirers (who may also be other fanartists) will have two weeks to attempt to guess who's behind each mask, that is, who did which fanart.
Details after the read more.
Requirements
None. Any art style will do, as long as it's drawn, I suppose. Traditional or digital, colored or b&W or lineart... Just no edits. And absolutely no AI, of course.
I need fanart ideas!
Maybe this will help.
Sign-ups
Signing-up is required and can be done here. For this event, sign-ups can be done up to the time of posting. Unlike other events, this is one where you will need to sign-up only at the end, after the art is done. You'll be required to add your AO3 username and the title of your fanart (yes, you'll have to give it a title, sorry - it can be pretty simple though).
Is NSFW accepted?
Yes, as long as it is correctly tagged. Please keep in mind that in this case, it's possible some people might not be comfortable in viewing it.
What if I don't have an AO3 account?
Then I'm very sorry, but in this case, you won't be able to participate (as an artist). For his event, having an AO3 account is mandatory so that you can post in the collection. That being said, a lot of people have AO3 invites, so ask right now and someone may be able to send you one. (Or, worst case scenario, we can find writer buddies to post for you.)
Posting
Posting needs to be done on AO3 because the Fanart Masquerade Collection will be unrevealed and anonymous. All posting must be done until the eve of the Masquerade, so May 11th. On May 12th, all the fanarts will be revealed and available for the admirers. The fanarts will remain anonymous until May 26th, when the game ends. The winners will be revealed shortly after, along with the prizes (more on that below). After the artists identities are revealed, they are free to post their fanart wherever they please.
Because unfortunately AO3 doesn't host images, your fanarts will have to be hosted elsewhere and linked to AO3. They should stay as hidden as possible. One possibility is posting privately on Tumblr and then using the image link to post on AO3. If you don't know how to do that or don't have a place to host the fanart, please contact us and we'll help you out.
When posting on AO3, choose to do it under the Gallavich Fanart Masquerade 2024 Collection (as in the picture below). I'll take care of the rest. It's important to do so when posting and not after, or it won't work.
Voting
Voting will be done via a new form, which will be disclosed only after the fanarts are posted. All fanart titles will be displayed and the admirers will chose from a menu who they think the artist is.
Points
There are two ways of winning this game, as an artist and as an admirer.
Artists are awarded 1 point for each person who correctly guesses their fanart and 3 points for each person who wrongly guesses it. That's right, you get more points if you're actually able to deceive everyone!
Admirers are awarded 5 points for each fanart they guess correctly, but they lose 1 point for each wrong guess.
Artists can also be admirers, so they have twice the chance of winning.
Prizes
The winning fanarts will get short fics based on them! And the one by the winning artist will be the prompt for one week in the @galladrabbles.
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