My Reputation Precedes Me

Name a fandom, I'm probably in it

Banshees are considered an omen of death. They possess a unique connection between this world and the next. In legend, a banshee a fairy woman who wails when somebody is about to die.

I found God and all His devils

inside her.


The problem with being in any fandom is that the longer you’re in it, the more obvious the immature and obnoxious side of the fandom becomes, and, all too often, that can completely ruin something for you.

Ian + caring for Mickey since forever



Despite all it’s flaws OUAT is really good at casting look alikes and family members.


I mean look at young Snow


And young Emma cries like JMo


Look at this family



And don’t forget that Emma looks just like her parents.


And the fact that Henry looks like Emma…


AND Regina…



We’ve all seen this


And also this!


Just… wow.



Be as gay as possible and steal anything and everything your little gay hands can carry


Joe Russo: A lovely scene between these two, really highlights the platonic nature of their relationship but with real, deep - I think there’s actual love there that’s like a brother and a sister.

Steve McFeely: They’ve also changed each other. She’s blown all her covers in large part because Steve has shown her that maybe you shouldn’t live such a morally murky life. She’s trying to push him towards Emily VanCamp.

- Captain America: The Winter Soldier Blu-ray Audio Commentary

OUAT Countdown: 30 days

Prompt: 4 times Ian initiates a public kiss without thinking first and one time Mickey does



i had so much fun with this one :) enjoy!


“Hey, Ian,” Mandy said around a mouthful of cereal. She ate with one hand and applied her mascara with the other. Ian shoved the door shut behind him and stripped off his jacket. He hung his jacket up and carried his bag of work stuff with him through the kitchen. Debbie looked from her last-minute homework and started to greet Ian, but paused when he strode right past the table.

                She looked over at Mandy and raised her eyebrows curiously and Mandy just shrugged and set down her spoon to concentrate of her eye makeup. Even focused as she was she didn’t miss what happened next because how could she?

                Ian walked around the counter to where Mickey stood, leaning against the stove. He laid his hands possessively on Mickey’s hips and stooped down to press their mouths together. Mandy and Debbie gaped as Ian tipped Mickey back against the stove and made out with him thoroughly. Debbie felt really jealous in a really fucked-up way and Mandy found herself mourning Ian’s sexuality (not for the first time and definitely not for the last).

                Mickey clutched at Ian’s biceps and when Ian finally pulled back Mickey chased the contact. He gazed up at Ian more dreamily than he’d ever admit and when he asked the fuck that was for, Ian replied, “just missed you,” before he untangled himself from Mickey and marched off upstairs.

                Everything was tense and still and Mickey stared at the top of the staircase where Ian had disappeared, until Mandy started laughing uproariously and that brought Mickey back. He stomped over to Mandy and gave her the titty twister of a lifetime before he turned and stomped up the stairs after Ian.


                “Do you love mama?” Yevgeny asked thoughtfully. Sometimes he surprised Mickey by how much he pondered things. When Mickey was his age he spent his time scrapping with his brothers and cutting up at school. Yev was the opposite: quiet and contemplative and surprisingly well-behaved all things considered. When Mickey didn’t answer right away, Yev elaborated. “You don’t hug her or kiss her like other dads do. And you sleep in different rooms with different people.”

                “Your mom and me are different than them,” Mickey answered. “She has Nika and I have Ian. It’s different than other kids’ families but we’re all working together to take care of you.”

                Yev was only satisfied with that for another moment. “So you don’t love mama,” he decided. Mickey respected how fine he seemed to be with that. “You’re still the best mama and dad ever.”

                “Really?” Mickey asked, giving his son a push on the swing. He looked up and watched Ian as he stood in line to get them ice cream. Ian caught him looking and gave a little wave, prompting him to roll his eyes as if he hadn’t started the dorky exchange by looking in the first place.

                “Yep,” Yevgeny replied, kicking his little legs and dragging his feet in the dirt. “You’re the best dad ever.”

                “Better than all the other dads here?” Mickey asked, looking down at his son. Always one to take things literally, Yev looked at the other parents at the park in earnest.

                “You’re definitely the best,” Yev declared with conviction once he’d finished his inspection. Mickey laughed deviously and pushed Yev hard, sending him swinging higher than he had yet. He let out a squeal of laughter and cheered when Mickey kept pushing him at that height.

                Ian came back to find Mickey and Yevgeny laughing at each other. Yev spotted him first and ordered Mickey to stop the swing immediately. About the only person who got to tell Mickey what to do was his son, so Mickey got a grip on the chain keeping the swing suspended and held it still.

                Once he’d come to a stop, Yev hopped off the swing and bounded over to Ian. He hugged at Ian’s legs and Ian’s stooped down the give him the popsicle he’d bought for him. he held Mickey’s popsicle out to Yev and asked him to bring it to his dad but the boy was gone, distracted by ripping open his own popsicle.

                Mickey took his own popsicle from Ian and reached down take Yev’s hand. He led them to a bench so Yev could sit down and eat his treat properly. The boy spent the entire time trying to tear open the wrapped with his teeth and ended up squishing it and rendering it ruined.

                Ian attempted to pacify Yev by offering him his undamaged popsicle but his was pink and Yev only liked orange. Right as it looked like Yev was going to tear up Mickey unwrapped his own orange popsicle and swapped it for the package of orange slush that Yev had so thoroughly pulverized. He ate it with his fingers and they were very sticky by the time he was done but Yev only ate half of his anyway so Mickey got an extra half a popsicle to eat while he watched Yev run off and play.

                “You’re pretty hot when you’re doing the fatherly thing,” Ian commented.

                “Well apparently I’m the best dad ever,” Mickey said, grinning as he slurped at his popsicle. “You better fucking believe I’m gonna defend that title.”

                Ian grinned and took Mickey’s hand, tugging it and his popsicle away from his mouth, tipping his head up and kissing him. It was cut short by two little girls playing in the sandbox near them giggling and making noises of pretend disgust. It was refreshing to have children joking about it the same way they would about a straight couple.

                They chuckled about that for a moment before Ian went in for another kiss. This time it was Yevgeny who interrupted them, scandalized that they weren’t watching him as he climbed on the monkey  bars.


                “Where is baby?” Svetlana asked when Mickey finally descended the stairs fresh from the shower.

                “With Ian,” Mickey replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He held up the pot. “Want some?”

                “Where is orange boy then?” she asked, aggressive and harsh and nope, Mickey wasn’t going to start a fight over something dumb like this.

                “Fucked if I know. Gone for a run or some shit,” Mickey replied, stirring a metric fuckton of sugar into his coffee. “He’s been gone awhile. Should be back soon.”

                Svetlana glared at him, lip turned up in a sneer. “You left son with crazy boyfriend?”

                “He’s not fucking crazy,” Mickey grumbled. “He takes the kid on his runs every morning the litte fucker is here.”

                “How I know he keep baby safe? How I know I can trust him?” she asked, advancing on Mickey where he stood drinking his coffee.

                “You don’t have to. I trust him,” Mickey insisted, scowling. “Just… sit the fuck down and have a coffee or somethin’. He’ll be back soon.”

                “If something happen to baby, I will stab you both. Nail your penises to the floorboards and watch you bleed until you die,” Svetlana promised, and Mickey was glad the door swung open right then and Ian walked in carrying a swaddled-up Yevgeny because she probably would make good on that promise.

                “Hey, good morning,” Ian said, brightening up when he saw Mickey standing there. He shifted Yev’s weight on to his hip and cupped Mickey’s jaw, stooping down to give him a kiss. It was over quickly and Mickey was immediately conscious of Svetlana standing right there looking stupid and smug.

                Mickey mumbled a ‘good morning’ in response and Ian gave him one more peck on the mouth. Then he stealthily swapped Yev for Mickey’s cup of coffee, then hurried off upstairs, babbling about being late between gulps of sweet sweet caffeine.


                Holly had been sitting in the living room watching TV with Debbie when she got her chance. The TV (and Debbie, to an extent) faded into the background when Ian came into the room. He waltzed in and leaned over the back of the couch to talk to Debbie. His shirt rode up when he leaned over and his biceps bulged deliciously where he bent his arms.

                “Hey Debs, can I use the TV after dinner? Mick and I are gonna watch Avengers. You and Holly can join us, if you want,” Ian suggested. Holly internally begged Debbie to say yes, so when she said sure, she’d make popcorn, Holly was pleased. She’d been trying to seduce Ian for weeks, and mid-movie in-the-dark groping would be her last attempt at subtlety before she just straight up grabbed his dick.

                Ian disappeared after that and he wasn’t there during dinner but Holly was undeterred. She ate just as much of the fried chicken as she needed to (she had to leave room for Ian’s surely massive cock, after all) before she hurried upstairs to check on her makeup and unbutton her shirt some more.

                The redhead came in later and helped Debbie do the dishes. Some other guy came in with him and Holly recognized him from around the neighbourhood. She couldn’t recall his name but she remembered him being bad news – she vaguely recalled a guy she fucked getting pot off him a couple times. She didn’t know him and Ian hung out but he must have been familiar enough since he hung his coat up and went to the fridge to get a beer. Ian finished up the dishes and asked him to grab him one too so he did.

                “Go grab some pillows from upstairs and I’ll get the movie set up,” Ian said, and the guy went off up the stairs. Debbie went to work making a huge bowl of popcorn and Holly slunk into the living room with Ian to stake a claim on some prime couch real estate and lay some ground work for her plan.

                She took a corner of the couch and started a playful conversation with Ian during which she giggled and twirled her hair and piled on the innuendoes. Ian didn’t respond negatively so Holly took that as a sign to carry on full-speed ahead.

                Once the movie was set up and the title menu was playing Ian called to his family in the kitchen that everything was ready. Then he made to stride past the couch and Holly intercepted him, catching him by the wrist.

                “Sit next to me,” she insisted, batting her eyelashes in a way that drove every boy she’d met cray. And ding ding ding, it obviously worked since he flopped down on the couch next to her. Before she had a chance to work some magic the rest of the Gallaghers minus the two oldest ones crowded in, including Ian’s drug dealer friend who took the seat on Ian’s opposite side. The friend lit a smoke and as Holly watched him suck on the filter she thought maybe she could fuck him too. Or both? At once, perhaps. He passed the smoke to Ian and watching him smoke reminded Holly of her goal.

                She probably should have paid more attention to the movie but it was hard to focus when she was trying so relentlessly to get some kind of a response from Ian. She rested her hand on his knee and trailed it up his thigh, and he just shifted and turned his body away from her. Undeterred, she tried again, tracing her fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. He ignored her and scooted a bit closer to his friend and so she moved even closer to him and eventually they were just three people squeezed into two peoples’ worth of space. Ian’s friend grumbled and complained at first (probably because of the close quarters – what dude likes being pretty up against another dude? No badass drug dealer in their ‘hood, that’s for sure) but he eventually settled down and watched the movie quietly.

                Soon enough Tony did a Pacific Rim and Loki was off to superjail and the credits were rolling. Ian extracted himself from between Holly and his friend and when he came back he scooted in close to the other guy again even though Holly didn’t move any closer to him.

                “So who was your favourite, Mick?” Ian asked, as Carl snagged the remote and switched it to something gory on the History channel.

                “Probably Captain America,” Ian’s friend replied. He hid a grin behind his hand as he chewed his thumbnail. “Such a fuckin’ Boy Scout.”

                “Right, ‘cause his whole military theme’s got nothing to do with it,” Ian teased. “I know for a fact you’re helpless against a buff guy in a uniform.”

                “Ay, shut the fuck up,” the friend said, shoving at Ian. “Which one’s your fucking favourite then?”

                “Iron Man,” Ian replied without hesitation and his friend snorted.

                “Why? Dude’s a fucking pussy.”

                “A mouthy pint-sized dark-haired deviant? Yeah, definitely a pussy,” Ian laughed, earning himself another punch from his friend. “Plus he totally bends over for Cap, so. Parallels.”

                “You wanna fuckin’ die?” Ian’s friend asked, and when Ian just waggled his eyebrows at him he pounced, knocking him against the back of the couch and thoroughly jostling Holly. Ian defended himself, getting his friend by the front of his shirt and deftly swinging him off the couch and onto the floor. He was on his friend in a second and Holly wasn’t sure when the fighting turned into something else but then there it was, Ian pinned his friend (“friend”) to the floor and kissed him hard.

                Fucking Gallaghers, Holly thought, getting up off the couch and stomping upstairs to put her panties back on.


                Terry Milkovich died surprisingly quietly for someone like him, but Mickey couldn’t give fewer shits if he tried. He probably wouldn’t have even gone to the fucking funeral except Mandy was going and his brothers and his uncles and his cousins and you don’t get that many fucking Milkoviches in one place without someone getting shot. Running security at your own father’s funeral was enough to make anyone feel shitty, but with Mickey’s family he was anxious and nervous and just about ready to rip his hair out.

                He couldn’t breathe properly until the funeral had ended and his siblings had drained their flasks and taken off in search of some other substance to abuse. Once he’d called Mandy a cab and seen her off safely he allowed himself to start drinking properly himself.

                By the time Ian showed up at the cemetery to pick Mickey up like they’d planned, Mickey was half in the bag. When Ian’s warm hand appeared on the small of his back, rubbing soothing circles there, Mickey reeled back and threw the mostly-empty bottle at his father’s gravestone. It shattered and the last of the whiskey trickled down through the engraved letters.

                Ian’s touch disappeared from his back as he strode past Mickey. He came to a stop in front of Terry’s gravestone and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at it.

                “Bullshit to the very end,” Ian commented, probably in regard to the ‘loving father, brother, husband, grandfather’ etched into the stone. “Kinda wanna piss on it, but that’d probably be too Karen Jackson of me. And anyways, he’s your dad. You should do the honours.”

                Suddenly rough hands clutched at his sweater and turned him around, fisting in the fabric covering his chest and shoving him backwards. The backs of Ian’s thighs hit Terry’s gravestone and Mickey barely sobbed out ‘shut the fuck up’ before he was kissing Ian.

                It was wet and sloppy since Mickey was bawling but Ian just wound his arms around Mickey and held him tight. He could feel in his shoulder and his uncoordinated lips as the tension bled out of him. Amongst all the other fuck up emotions raging between them, the one they had in common was the overwhelming sense of relief that had them sinking to their knees in the still-loose soil at the base of Terry’s gravestone.



#dean did you just threaten yourself

no wonder he died so many times.