#gallavich Drabble

[heymrspatel]

Look, Ian, Mickey, and Mandy go to a Sox game when she visits and the kiss cam shows Mandy and Ian and then?

anna hi! omg i love this heehee!

cue the battle of three completely different facial expressions!

ian: wide toothy smile, crinkly eyes, rosy cheeked! completely tickled by the concept of being on camera with his best friend! a silly guy! my god, what a memory for them, something to laugh at for years to come. "remember when we were on the kiss cam? how fun was that?!"

mandy: the most mischievous smirk you could ever imagine! the side eye of the century. oh ho boy, that girl is gloating. everyone around her is surprised she hasn't broken out into an evil laugh yet. that's all that's missing as her hand comes up to rest on ian's shoulder. time to mess with her shithead of a brother! time to shine!

mickey: if "OH. FUCK. NO." had a face, it would be this one. eyebrows absolutely fighting for their life. they shoot straight up, they come crashing down. gasps echo all around them as The Scowl comes out. pure and utter disgust on his face. a pause. hands flailing accompanied by an "AAAYYY!!!"

the jumbotron shows a girl, a goofy guy, and an arm. shooting out from the right and yanking the guy sideways. the cameraperson gets with it, pans to where the arm has claimed their guy. and there. fully engrossed in the hottest kiss that ballpark has ever seen, are ian and mickey. holding faces, backwards caps, smiling and proud.

[theluigianapurchase]

decided to write a Drabble bc i keep seeing posts about Mickey and Ian that piss me tf off where it’s like “oh Ian treat Mickey like shit in the middle seasons” girl im boutta throw hands

so anyway prison drabble

It was barley a whisper, Mickey barely heard it laying in the bottom bunk of the cell.

“Im sorry”

“what chu saying sorry for dumbass in tryin ta’ sleep”

“everything,” Ian muttered “making you come out, breaking up with you, leaving you at the border,” he sighs “just everything”

“Ian cut it out with that bullshit” Mickey said exasperated “if you go and apologize for that crap then i gotta go and apologize for beating the shit outta you like 20 times and leaving you when we were kids, so let’s just say neither of us have gotta be sorry shit happens man we’ve moved on”

It was a whisper again, barley audible

“i love you”

[spicycinnabun]

“Again with the moon? What’s wrong with it?”

“I just don’t like it!” Mickey said, waving his hands at the window where said moon glared at him from the sky. “It glows too much! Directly in my eyes! I can’t fuckin’ sleep!”

“Okay…” Ian replied slowly. Too slowly. Mickey wasn’t being dramatic and unreasonable. He wasn’t. “Let’s switch places.”

Mickey sniffed, nose twitching. “Why would we fuckin’ do that?”

These were their unspoken spots on the bed. Mickey was always near the window, and Ian was near the door.

“Just do it, Mick. And scoot your pillow down a little. Trust me.”

They swapped spots. Mickey’s head hit the pillow further down the bed, and Ian turned on his side. His chest and shoulder obstructed the window from Mickey’s view.

“Oh,” he said quietly. And then, even more quietly, “Thanks.”

Ian rested his hand atop Mickey’s stomach, rubbing it and smiling softly. “We’ll shop for blinds tomorrow.”

[ohnoitsthebat]

Written for this week's @galladrabbles theme: CUDDLES. Thanks to @flamingbluepanda for the awesome prompt!

--

“What the fuck are you lookin’ at?” Mickey snapped, giving Ian a nasty, sideways look. 

“I, uh.” Ian cleared his throat, tried again. “Um, I, uh…”

“Spit it the fuck out already, Gallagher. Jesus Christ.”

“Would you….” Ian’s face burned and he dropped his gaze. Even though he and Mickey had just finished making love, he wanted something else.

But he was afraid to ask for it. Mostly because he figured Mickey would tear him to shreds for even thinking about it.

“What? Would I what?” Now Mickey sounded frustrated.

“Wanna cuddle?”

A long pause, then,

“Get over here, Red.”

[deepeststarfishsong]

Thank you so much Mina @lizelandre, for this week's @galladrabbles prompt: leap of faith.

+++

"He's not afraid to kiss me…" That had fucked him up. He knew it was true, he was afraid but for damn good reasons. He'd thought about it-a lot actually, but he wasn't allowed to want things like that. Then he'd gone and tailed Ian and that geezer North; he knew he'd shown his hand.

He sat in the passenger seat of the shitbox van and listened to his cousin and uncle bitch in the back while he got lost in his head.

If I don't, I'm gonna lose him. Fuck that, he thought. I can do this for him.

[golden28s]

i was kinda intimated by this week's prompt not gonna lie but i love it credits for this awesome prompt to @mikhailoisbaby and @galladrabbles 💗

Prompt: childhood comfort

4 year old Mickey thought that blanket would protect from the monster that lived in his house and made his dad so mad. He thought it was magical and it could create a safer, warmer place where he could live and maybe invite Mandy. Now 26 year old Mickey that is starting a new life is looking at that blanket and wondering if he needs it. And he looks at it and he doesn't feel safe; there's sadness, anger but there's also peace and it feels out of place like it doesn't belong there, but there's peace. He doesn't need it anymore. And his future kids won't either. "Did you grab everything you wanted?" Ian asks from the living, he sighs and looks around. 26 years old Mickey is safe now and monsters don't live with him anymore.

[ink-n-shadow]

Request - a headcanon or fic for Ian and Mickey realising their lease is up on the West Side apartment and they have to decide whether or not to stay. Or… their first official date night on the West Side. 💖

Eviction | Gallavich

pairing: Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich

genre: slight angst/eventual fluff (shitty ending but i'm too tired to fix it)

word count: 1118ish

note: i kinda took this into a little bit of an angsty direction so i might rewrite this later but anyway－ (also apologies for going MIA again oops)

The red 'EVICTION NOTICE' stamp was the first thing Ian had noticed after Mickey carelessly tossed their mail on the kitchen counter.

"Hold up－" Ian pulled the envelope in question from the pile and held it close to his face, almost as if it was written in code. "Mick, I thought we paid our rent for the month."

Mickey sidled up to Ian's side, arm coming to loop comfortably around the taller man's midsection. "Thought I did－I took the check to that fucking office lady downstairs and everything."

There was a pause while Ian hurriedly ripped open the envelope and rifled through its contents, eyes scanning over the words quicker than Mickey could keep up with. He was barely past the 'Dear tenants...' part of the letter whenever Ian tossed it back onto the counter in defeat, knuckles immediately digging into his eyes anxiously.

Mickey forced Ian's back against the edge of the kitchen counter as his hands encompassed his husband's, uncovering the now watery green eyes staring back at him and soothingly petting at his cheek. "Hey, chill out, Gallagher. No need to get all anxious and shit, 'ight? I'll just go downstairs and talk to－"

"No! Mick, that's the fucking problem. The check bounced. If the check bounced, that means we don't have enough money in the account－which means we can't afford rent this month." Ian's chest was rising and falling in anxious, panicked breaths as he yanked his hands from Mickey's grip and started combing through his ginger hair. "I－I thought you said that that job was fucking legit!"

"It was! I..." Mickey turned on the ball of his foot as his eyes began scanning his surroundings, the gears of his brain spinning a mile a minute. "I thought it was." Maybe he had gotten the hourly rate wrong－it wouldn't be the first time Mickey struggled with math. But this was the first time that that lack of skill had him worried.

Ian had put his heart and soul into this West Side apartment, and it was finally starting to look like a real home. A photo of him and Mickey from their wedding reception hung delicately in the front hallway, beneath it a shoe rack full of old sneakers and a vanilla-scented candle Mickey swiped from a Marshall's. They even had scrounged up enough money to furnish the living and dining rooms, which simply consisted of some bare-bone table and chairs alongside a foldout sofa Ian was able to find on Facebook Marketplace. It wasn't a lot－especially not for a West Side apartment－but it was at least theirs. Ian couldn't begin to imagine having to pack it all up and move back in with Debbie and Lip. He couldn't imagine having to be back in that house again.

The sound of feet shuffling drew Ian out of his anxious spiral, his vision coming back into focus to see Mickey tousling his hair in the front hallway mirror. He had put on a white muscle tank with a pair of black sweatpants slung low across his hips. If the circumstances had been different, maybe Ian would be reacting differently.

"Mick－c'mon, might as well just start packing now." Ian stretched his hand out, frowning when his husband moved past him quickly without any acknowledgment. His anxiety morphed into annoyance. "Where the fuck're you going?"

"I'm just gonna go talk to the office lady. Shouldn't take me too long," Mickey muttered as he patted down his pants pockets, pressing a absentminded kiss onto the redhead's cheek before his head swiveled around the kitchen. "Have you seen my fucking keys?"

.................................................

Ian was halfway through writing a sappy text message to both Debbie and Lip, trying to explain the situation as best as he could without completely throwing his husband under the bus. He was about to hit send when the door busted open, Mickey padding inside with a soft smile and an armful of some takeout containers. “Mick—we had leftovers here. Why’d you—”

“Shut up. I got your favorite, so don’t give me that fuckin’ lip, ‘lright?” Mickey’s words seemed harsh, but the way his lips wore a soft smile made it known that it was all teasing.

Mickey made his way over to where Ian was sprawled out on the couch, setting the takeout containers onto the coffee table and pushing it closer so the redhead could reach it.

As he watched Ian wearily tear into the plastic bag, Mickey moved to set his keys onto the kitchen counter. “Got the rent stuff figured out too.” He said absentmindedly, as though it was no big deal. Mickey knew that Ian wasn’t going to react to it that way though.

“What did you do, Mick?” Ian asked slowly, eyes meeting his husband’s as he stopped opening the styrofoam container. “God, please tell me you didn’t tear that poor lady’s office down.”

Mickey groaned as he joined Ian on the couch, taking one of the styrofoam contains into his lap before kicking his boots up onto the coffee table. "Oh Jesus Christ—my husband has no faith in me. No, I didn't tear that woman's office apart. So relax and enjoy your food, 'kay Red?"

It was calm and quiet for a moment, the two of them eating their dinner in comfortable silence and listening to the storm outside as it began to pour. Mickey let out a soft sigh, knowing by the way Ian's eyebrows were knit together that his husband was still thinking about it.

"I just explained the situation to her, told her I'd get the rest of the money to her tomorrow. She said don't let it happen again. Happy?" Mickey explained as he reached over, stealing a french fry from Ian's container before leaning back against the leather of the couch.

Ian didn't object, instead leaning back with Mickey and chewing his food thoughtfully. "So what—that's it? How're you gonna come up with the rest of the money so quick?"

Mickey set the takeout container onto the coffee table as he swung his legs back down to the floor, fingers moving to untie the laces before toeing off his boots. "I called Frank. He's gonna let me work a quick shift at the Alibi tomorrow—should be enough to cover the difference."

Once his boots were off and on the floor, Mickey shifted in his spot on the couch to face Ian, laying one arm across the back of the couch and letting the other lay in his lap. "Now c'mon, stop being so worried and pissy at me. Please? I bought your favorite food and everything."

As much as Ian wanted to fight it, he couldn't help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he took another bite of food. "Alright—fine. You're outta the doghouse f'now. But next time? Let me handle the money, alright?"

[palepinkgoat]

Time for @galladrabbles! Thank you to @runninonemptyy for Myles Smith's Stargazing song prompt. I was inspired by the lovely lyrics!

*********************************************************************

Ian rubs at his bad leg. It still hurts sometimes when it storms. An old wives tale with truth inside it. 

Mickey shifts his jaw. “Hurtin’?” 

Ian sighs. “It’ll be okay.” But it aches.

“It’s been three years. Maybe we should see a doctor or—” 

“Mick, It’s just a bone,” Ian sighs, letting go, sliding an arm around Mickey instead. 

“Yeah, well, I love your bone.”

Ian grins. “Is that a dick joke?” 

Mickey laughs. “Naw. I just mean I love all of it. Skin. Bones. Whatever.” 

Ian brushes a thumb against Mickey’s lip. “I love all of you, too.”

*****************************************************************

[sluttygallavich]

Galladrabbles: to be with you

Thanks to @sweetbee78 for this week's song prompt, "To Be with You" by Mr. Big, and thanks always to @galladrabbles. I was inspired by one line in particular. Lmao. So here is...something...

_________________________

“Let me show you.”

Ian pries the sheets from Mickey’s grip, tangling their fingers together and guiding their hands to Mickey’s abdomen. 

“Feel—” Ian pants, pressing Mickey’s palm against his own sweat-slicked skin. Ian continues to thrust long and hard and fucking perfect. “Do you feel it too? How deep inside I am.” 

Mickey is too far gone, eyes squeezed tight and back arching off the bed, to really understand what Ian is saying—

But then there. Unmistakable. Ian’s hard cockhead pressing up against his hand from deep inside.

Oh! Mickey’s eyes fly open as his orgasm rips through him.

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Freckle face

When Ian flipped him over, he stared a little too long at Mickey's face. A sharp the fuck you lookin’ at was on the tip of his tongue, his mood souring a little. He thought he was gonna fucked senseless, or at least a good fuckin’ makeout, not Gallagher’s lips stretching into a dopey smile. 

“Holy shit,” he said in awe. 

“What?” Mickey snapped. 

“You have freckles.” 

Fuck. 

Mickey’s weren’t as visible as Ian’s were, or rather used to be from how they kinda lightened up since his time working at Kash and Grab, but they came out a little more in the summertime. Honestly, he would’ve thought Ian woulda seen ‘em before now. 

“Whatever, man,” he grumbled. He was gonna turn over if not for Ian taking his face by the chin with one hand. “The fuck-” 

“I never noticed them before,” he said, sounding almost giddy by the discovery. 

“So fucking what?” Mickey scowled. “You gonna finish what you started?” 

But Ian wasn't thinking about that at all. He grinned, using his thumb to trace along Mickey's cheek. “You're so damn cute, Mick.” 

It was spoken so earnestly, Ian's smile was one of adoration. Mickey felt a flush creeping up his face. Nobody ever said things like that to him before, and here Ian was, marveling over some damn freckles. 

“I ain't cute,” Mickey muttered, his gaze tearing away from Ian's face to look over at the wall. 

“You’re cute,” Ian disagreed, noses brushing against each other’s. One hand came to hold the back of his head, tilting his own so he could softly kiss Mickey. “So fucking cute....” 

[darlingian]

an itty bitty Mandy pov post canon ficlet ✨

Mandy Milkovich was at her brother's door.

She straightened her skirt and adjusted her bangs in the reflection of the frosted glass in the door. She could make out faint shadows of movement though it and, not wanting to be caught just lurking there, she pressed the door bell.

Jesus Christ, she thought. A Milkovich living in a place with a working doorbell.

Locked even! Mandy was awed as she heard the deadbolt turn.

The door swung open abruptly and Mandy was met with her brother as she'd never seen him. He was casually dressed, but the Levi's jeans and the sandalwood smell she'd noticed indicated he must be doing pretty well for himself. Salt and pepper dusted through his still mostly black hair. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes surprised her at first, Terry didn't have them, but then it dawned on her. Smile lines.

Mandy made a noise somewhere between a hiccup and a sob and quickly covered her mouth.

"Well that's not who I expected." Mickey says,

And she never expected to see him, if she's really honest. She doesn't let the thought linger, because she has always wanted to let herself hope for Mickey. But Mandy had learned at an unfairly young age that having hope for a Milkovich was a surefire way to break your own heart.

And that's why. Why she hasn't reached out to him. Why she left Canaryville and didn't let herself think of home much. This way he could live on in the relatively okay spot he was in when she left him. Because she'd always assumed her favourite brother's demise was inevitable. She had literally told Ian she didn't want Lip to screw up his own life the way she'd watched her brother's life spiraling. She didn't want to know how he landed. In her mind, he could still be taking care of a baby with Ian and they lived happily ever after-- the end.

Oh Ian. She sighed as she watched him walk up behind Mickey and instinctively put his arm around his shoulders. Ian's here.

Ian, her best friend. Her only confidant. She still had never had a friend that filled the Ian shaped space in her life. No other person knew all the scary dark things that happened to her. No one else had ever known how to ask. Ian had saved her from her mother's own fate. Raising babies she didn't want at too young an age. And Ian had helped her. Had found a way to get her the money to fix it. To give her another chance.

Mickey didn't get one. Svet kept the baby, fuck knows why. Mickey was trapped, and then Mandy knew she had to get out of there and never go back. She'd taken the risk that was Kenyatta and took his invitation to leave with him as a free ride out of town.

"Mandy?" The woman standing in front of Ian had finally registered in his sleepy Sunday morning haze. "MANDY!"

Ian launched himself at her and wrapped her in an enormous hug. He'd somehow kept growing since the last time she'd seen him. Although he wasn't just taller, there was so much more of him. He had looked healthy when she'd seen him that one time when he'd helped her years back. But he was sad, she could tell. He hadn't had this spark there that she sees now. It's not a concerning one. It's safety. Contentment. It looks so good on him.

Ian beamed at her and braced her arms with his and pulled back so they could look at eachother.

"What the fuck, Mandy!" Ian said. As he took her in.

Mandy smiled happily back at him. "I thought it was time I met my brother in law."

[secret-gallavich]

This is such a fun prompt thanks @atthedugouts @galladrabbles

Prompt: coworkers au

-

Mickey fucking HATES his coworker.

His name is Ian. He ate Mickeys lunch once like a year ago and Mickey is still mad about it. He’s always got a pep in his step. Gets all his work done on time and signs his emails with a smiley face.

They also hooked up at the company Christmas party and now Mickey can’t stand to even look in his direction which is awesome now that he’s transferred to a new branch.

Mickey looks up from his desk as a box is placed down and stares into green eyes.

‘Oh for fucks sake!’

[dreamjupiter]

long-time reader, first-time writer for @galladrabbles - I was scrolling like usual and came across this week's prompt from @michellemisfit while listening to panic! at the disco and felt like maybe it was fate that I finally write something for this fandom? I guess we could say I interpreted the prompt literally, ha - anyway, here goes something:

"What's this?" Mickey asks, gesturing to Ian's phone. "I don't hate this song."

"Panic! At The Disco," Ian answers, guiding the rig to their last stop. "Mandy used to be really into them, remember?"

Mickey wracks his brain, coming across a fuzzy memory. "Thought they were some kinda emo shit?"

"When we were in middle school, maybe. They evolved." He glances at his husband, smirking. "You know, like how you used to be scary, and now you're an upstanding citizen?"

Mickey glares. "I'm still scary, fuck you very much!"

"Oh yeah, you're terrifying," Ian snorts. "I'm shaking in my boots."

[spicycinnabun]

Ian had given him a pair of boxers for Valentine’s Day. They were one size smaller than Mickey usually bought and covered in colored hearts. Like the chalky candy ones Ian could somehow devour by the fistful, the sweet bastard, each heart had a message on it. Grossly cute ones like love bun (on the ass cheek), mean ones like hard pass and dirty ones like we fuckin or nah?

Mickey toyed with the waistband, snapping it against his hip. Least that part wasn’t too tight. He rolled onto his stomach and hugged his pillow, opening and closing his legs like he was making a bedsheet angel. He wriggled a little, experiencing the silky material caressing his thighs closely.

…And you know what? That shit actually felt pretty good.

“Yo, Valentine! Get in here already and eat me!”

One of the hearts fuckin’ said so, after all.

[ohnoitsthebat]

Written for this week's @galladrabbles theme: BONES. Thank you so much for this week's prompt, @heymacy!

--

To say that he was surprised Mickey had never broken any bones was an understatement. Ian had incorrectly assumed that his boyfriend had grown accustomed to broken bones. 

He had been wrong.

Now, as he sat in the lobby of the dingy hospital, Ian couldn’t bring himself to think about how serious the injury was, what the aftercare would require. And, God, the bill. He really didn’t want to think about that now. 

He snapped himself out of his thoughts with a groan. Was he really sitting there, wallowing in self-pity?

With a steely resolve, Ian walked toward the elevator.

(@grumpybluefairy)

[deepeststarfishsong]

Thank you to @twinklyylights for this week's @galladrabbles prompt, perseverance.

+++

Carry On, Wayward Son

Ian blew smoke rings up at the ceiling while Kansas rattled out of the busted speakers of Mickey's newest stolen stereo. Mickey lay curled into Ian's side fully asleep, head on Ian's chest, arm slung low across his hips holding them together tight.

"I think this song is about you," he whispered into Mickey's hair. "People don't realize what a good man you are. You never let them close enough to know."

Ian smiled as Mickey restlessly snuggled closer, wrapping up tighter. "All the hell you get, and you still stick it out, baby. You deserve peace more than anyone."