Character: Reggie Mantle x male reader
Universe: Riverdale
Warnings: Suicide, murder. Just, all in all, read at your own risk. Very sad.
Reggie’s stride no longer had his almighty confidence. His eyes watered and lost their usual mischievous twinkle. The thick black hair he has always been proud of hangs in his face: all shine gone. His eyeballs were red from crying, and his face was sunken.
Everyone who saw them could only pity him. He had brought this upon himself. If happiness wasn’t enough to keep him safely in the hands that nurtured him with love after the beatings he got from his father. What else could keep him at one’s side?
He walked the corridors of the schools. Every laugh reminded him of his love, the one person he could always count on, who gave him life whenever dark thoughts clouded his mind. Each passionate voice triggered memories of heated arguments that could only be resolved with equally heated kisses.
Nobody dared to look into his eyes. Those who knew the reality looked at him with pitying glances, but for those who didn’t just look away in hatred for him, the wish that everything should be different was strong in their eyes.
His heart ached for the love he once received. But he destroyed it, jumped on the heart that once could do nothing but smile.
Nobody knew, not even Reggie himself. Although he should have, whenever his eyes averted from his love, for a split second, he could see the smile he so adored disappear. A cold, sad expression replaced the warm, friendly one he had become so much accustomed to.
In the end, none of your hours-long conversations gave him any clue to what might happen. Now the world was cold and empty after breaking the one person he vowed never to hurt.
He could only walk to class slowly, afraid of the judgmental eyes of his teachers. But before he could reach that place, a girl he barely knew gave him an envelope without saying a word or looking at him.
Confused, even irritated, he opened it without a second guess. Shockingly, it was a letter from you. Your perfect, rounded handwriting, which should never have been archived, gave it away. To confirm, he smelled the paper. Mahogany, as always. You always bathe your letters or even small notes you gave him with this scent. In your words: “Everything I love smells like mahogany!”. You even gave him perfume with this scent to show how much you love him.
For a very brief moment, a smile appeared on his suffering face. However, everything changed when he read it. His tears, which had dried for about an hour, flowed again. Tear after tear fell on the letter. A kind of confession, an explanation for many things. Even for your untimely death by your own hand.
Anger grew in him again. Not this time at the thought of your selfishness in doing that one thing that couldn’t be restored, but of himself and his idiocy. He’s never seen the pain behind your smiling eyes, never questioned the silent tears that sometimes randomly rolled down your cheeks, and never wondered about the strange sores that sometimes appear on your skin.
You told him everything that happened and that he was a reason for you to live on, hoping to work through your problems with a lot of therapy in the future. Until then, you would plan to bite through your pain. But then everything fell apart when the book was found, and Reggie could no longer deny it.
But you also told him that he wasn’t the reason you did it, but breaking up with him took away a cause for you to keep going through the mud of your existence.
However, what Reggie broke was the main reason you did it. It made him hate himself even more that he had never suspected anything like this.
Then suddenly, a thought came to him. He hurriedly threw away his backpack after taking out paper and a pen. Just to run out to his car, where he wrote a letter himself. Also, a letter of confession explaining everything about how the book came about. His parents’ abuse, the pressure he was under, and their even stricter rules after he came out to them. His father even went so far as to send him to a conversion camp. He then forced him to have intercourse with women until he could do it without any help and only did it with women. At least, that is what he let his father believe.
He wanted to tell you everything once you both finished school and were out of this hell hole. Not once was he mad at Betty for making it public they all deserved it. But he was angry at himself, disappointed that he never told you, in particular, because he knew that you would’ve understood and would’ve helped.
At least he could do one thing right. He drove to Betty’s house and knocked on the door, which her surprised mother answered. Reggie gave her both letters without many words and asked her to write a story about them, but only tell the truth.
As he walked away, she began to read, tears streaming down her eyes as her hand cupped her open mouth. Reggie looked like a ghost behind the wheel the last time she saw him.
Later that night, the news broke the tragic story of a young man who killed another man by driving him into a tree, killing both of them on impact. Before the investigation could be completed, Betty’s mother came out the next day with your and Reggies story, Reggie being the one killing the man the day before. It attracted all media attention.
In addition to the written statement from him and you, he also gave her his mobile phone. With all your chat logs, even some recorded phone records that he secretly took of the two of you, but most important were the pictures, the thousands and thousands of pictures.
She later wrote a book about your love story, which began when you met on a playground, where you hit him with a plastic toy. Instead of crying, he took it from you and hugged you. You two were made for each other, and everyone could see it. Even Reggie’s parents confirmed this after the public backlash they experienced, which they could never escape. However, your parents took their own lives shortly after your older brother’s misdeeds, which you described in your confession letter, were proven true. However, before they could reap the consequences of their actions, in this case doing nothing about their elder son’s misdeeds towards you, even though they knew what was going on, they took the easy way out. It was he that Reggie pinned against a tree with his car.
Betty’s mother later wrote an entire book about the love you shared with Reggie and stuck to the truth as Reggie wanted her to do.
It triumphantly topped the best-seller charts for over a decade, made several films and even a decade-long series, with the help of Betty’s mother, who gathered all the information and built your story of how it would have happened if you had gotten out of this town.
It didn’t stop people watching after Season 3 when the announcement was made that it would all be fiction from that moment on, considering both you and Reggie were already dead.
Betty’s mother even built a mausoleum in your honor, far away from the town you both had died in, at a place you both wanted to move to, where the earth is always green.
Each year, hundreds of thousands of couples, widows, and everyone in between visit your mausoleum, bring you their own stories and share the love that could never be as pure and strong as the two of you shared. Many had rightly deduced that you knew of Reggie’s actions all along but just wanted to bite the time until you both could put it behind you after leaving that rotten town and therefore had even more respect for you.
But once it became public knowledge, there was no hiding. Now pain-free, sleeping peacefully next to the love of your life, you were happy. For the first time in your existence, you were happy.
The day Reggie arrived at your soul’s resting place, you ran into his arms in tears. He apologized so many times, in response, all you could do was kiss him and lead him far into the distance where the two of you could live the life you two ever wanted, with no more tragedy, just the love story you both.
[Masterlist]
Well, this is awkward
*Leaves*
Yup, it is
*Leaves as well*
As a bisexual, it sickens me that some people WILL keep scrolling.
THEY ARE GIRLFRIENDS ✨✨✨. By Bure Järvvitch
Honestly same 😭
Me when fem readers show up on my home page
What happens once you kill yourself? Because I'm ready to go.
You wanna know what happens once you kill yourself? Your mother comes home from work and finds her baby dead and she screams and runs over to you and tries to get you to wake up but you won’t and she keeps screaming and shaking you and her tears are dripping onto your face and your dad hears all the screaming and runs into the room and he can’t even speak because the child that he loved and the child that he watched grow up is gone forever and finally your little sister runs into the room to see what all the fuss is about and she sees you dead. The person she looked up to and loved. The person she bragged about to her friends, the person she wanted to be just like when she grew up, the person that made her feel safe. But she’s never really going to get to grow up and smile and laugh and love because she’ll always be consumed with this feeling of missing you. And now there’s something missing from your family and they can barely look at each other anymore because everything reminds them of you but you’re gone and hurts more than anything. and you think that your mom never cared because she was always busy and yelling at you to finish your homework and clean your room and forgot to say I love you sometimes but really, she loved you more than anything and she doesn’t leave the house anymore, she can’t even get out of bed and she’s getting thinner and thinner because it’s too hard to eat. Your father had to quit his job and he doesn’t sleep anymore, every time he closes his eyes he sees his baby dead, and the image never goes away no matter how much alcohol he drinks. And at school your best friend sees that your seat is empty and she gets this sick feeling in her stomach and that’s when she hears the announcement. You killed yourself. And suddenly she’s screaming and crying in the middle of class and no one even bothers comforting because they’re all busy sitting there staring at your empty seat with tears dripping down their cheeks and all she wants is for you to hug her and tell her it’s gonna be okay like you always did, but this time, you’re not there to do it, everything is dark now that you’re gone and her grades are slipping, she barely goes to school anymore and she ended up in hospital after taking too many pills because she wanted to see you again. the girls who used to make fun of the way you dressed feel their throats get tight, they don’t talk to each other anymore, they don’t talk to anyone, they’re all in therapy trying so hard not to blame themselves but nothing works. and your teacher who always gave you a hard time stares blankly at the wall, she quits her job a few days later. And then your boyfriend hears the news and he can’t breathe, he still calls you a lot just to hear your voice and he talks to you on facebook but you never message him back, he can’t fall in love again because every girl he meets reminds him of you, he’s never going to get over you, he loved you and he cries himself to sleep every night, hating himself and slicing his skin because he couldn’t save you and he’s never going to hold you in his arms or hear you laugh again. Now everyone who knew you, whether they were a big part of your life or someone you passed in the hallway a few times a week, they carry this aching feeling around inside them because you’re gone, and they miss you, and they don’t know why you left but it must’ve been their fault and they should’ve stopped you and they should’ve told you they loved you more and that feeling is never going to go away. And so you killed yourself
but you killed everyone else around you too.
Toxic Lip Gallagher being your baby daddy that gets on your nerves, but he's the best lay you've ever had, and you can't resist letting him have his way with you whenever he visits.
he may have been a shitty boyfriend but he was an exceptionally good dad, especially to your kid, lip had gotten you knocked up in the early years and you both broke up after looks of shit went down
"hey buddy how was school today, got any good grade"
"it was good I got a 100 on my math test"
"that's amazing how 'bout you go wait in the car while I talk to dad"
you were happy he was taking care of his kid instead of abandoning so you had to give him props where props were due but still every time you did see him you usually ended up annoyed as fuck at his shenanigans
"you said you'd be here four hours ago"
"something came up"
"was that something at the alibi"
while he tried to be a good dad and not as shitty as frank was he still fell short in some places such as his drinking problem but he started getting it under control more and more
"tell you what how about i drop him off with Ian and mickey and I can come back and we can talk about this"
you knew the only talking that was gonna happen once he got back were going to be the sounds of your moans and please for him to fuck you harder and just as you thought that's what happened
lip having you bent over the couch slamming into your hole roughly, making you moan out like a porn star and he loved watching how he could still turn you into the fucking slut you used to be
"c'mon you see how the kid wants us to get back together, what's the worst that could happen"
"you getting me pregnant again"
"well he has been saying he wants a baby brother so we could try"
he always shot his idea of getting back together and having another kid with you, by now you were starting to think he really just wanted to see you waddling around with a belly full of his growing cum again
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.
FEM ALIGNED DNI !!
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 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, 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 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 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, 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 gonna 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 it's 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.
"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 expressionless 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. "Smash 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, 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." 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."
"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."
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 it."
"Thank you." Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car.
"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.
Yuri on ice
Yuuri Katsuki
Victor Nikiforov
Christophe Giacometti
Jean-Jacques
Seung-gil Lee
Phichit Chulanont
Georgi Popovich
Otabek Altin
Emil Nekola
Kenjirou Minami
your condom breaks
you feel a lump on your breast
your friends are ignoring you
you’re stranded on an island
you got rejected by a crush
you get into a car accident
you got stung by a bee/wasp
you got fired from your job
you’re in an earthquake
your tattoo gets infected
your house is on fire
you’re lost in the woods
you get arrested abroad
you get robbed
your partner cheated on you
you’re on a ship that’s sinking
you fall into ice
you’re stuck in an elevator
you hit a deer with your car
you have food poisoning
your pet passed away
you fall off of a horse
you or your friend has alcohol poisoning
you have toxic shock syndrome
your house has a gas leak
how can i start writing more often?
That's going to depend what's stopping you from doing so. I'll tackle some of the common ones and see if that helps you out.
You're working or going to school full time or otherwise have a lot of responsibilities that fill your days
Writing doesn't have to be done in large chunks of time. You can write for ten minutes and still get something onto the page. You can also write by dictating a voice note into your phone and using speech-to-text to transcribe it. When you have a day off or a larger amount of downtime, try to block off some of it for writing or for editing those speech-to-text transcripts into a more polished story.
You don't have any ideas
Seek you writing prompt blogs. Make a post on your tumblr asking for requests. Expand the type of idea you're willing to write - not everything needs to be a 100K multichap, so think of a oneshot idea and write that instead.
Every time you think about posting a fic, you get so anxious you just stop writing
Write something that you're not planning to post. Write something by hand so that you can't post it without making the decision to transcribe it and post it later. Focus on the writing instead of the possible audience reactions to the writing.
You have an idea you love, but writing all of the backstory to get you to that point is so demotivating you can't even start
Make a bulleted list of all of the backstory components that need to be in place before you can get to the part of the story you want to write. Now write the part you're actually interested in. After you write that, check in with that bulleted list and see if any of those parts are more interesting now. If they are, write those too. If they're not, you're done and can move onto the next story. You can post those criteria as your summary or author's note or tags.
You have an idea you love, but all of the research you have to do first is so demotivating you can't even start
Do you actually need to do the research? Can you write the story in a way that hand-waves things (bring in some pseudo-science or a Fantasy Costco or something to get around what you're trying to figure out). Is there someone else who has done this research already? Do you know someone who loves researching that you could get to help you out? Is the research just an excuse for procrastination because the idea isn't fully baked yet?
You spend so much time researching that by the time you're ready to start writing you don't have any time left
Do you enjoy researching more than writing? Is there someone you can partner with to write the story based on your idea and research? Do you tend to research and write in the same block of time? In that case, separate those activities out. Research until you get to a good stopping point and then write until you run out of research and need to learn more.
Every time you start writing, someone interrupts you
If the interruptions come via social media or other online means, mute your notifications while you're writing. Change your status from online to do not disturb. If the interruptions are IRL, have a conversation with your family or roommates and work out an agreement where you can get blocks of time without interruptions or where you can put up a signal that you're writing and can't be disturbed. Get a whiteboard or sticky notes or something so that people can write down what they need from you and you can check it when you're done.
Every time you try to write, you get distracted by a bunch of other things and can't actually get much writing done
If you write on a device that connects to the internet, you can get really distracted by the internet. There are lots of tools out there to block out those kinds of distractions to help you right (example). You can also try writing by hand on paper so that the internet is further away from the task.
Writing is really intimidating. The blank page taunts you.
Start by writing out your idea at the top of the page. It doesn't have to be in-depth, it can just be something like "A and B are stuck in different locations for a long period of time and they discover they're in love with each other while writing letters back and forth." By doing this, the page is no longer blank so you can fool yourself into thinking you've already started writing and just need to continue.
When I sit down to write, I don't know where you start.
If you're in the process of writing a story, try not to end a writing session on the end of a scene. Either write the start of the next scene or stop writing before you hit the end of the current scene. Then the next time you write, you have a place to pick up from and don't need to make a choice of where to go next. If you're starting a new idea, start at the point where it's interesting. You can go back and write the boring part later if you decide you really want or need to.
There are lots more things that stop people from writing, but I'll let people in the notes add more examples. If you're a writer, how do you make time for writing?