The new “boy next door” is more of a “silver fox next door”. Mickey likes him. And when Mickey likes something, Mickey gets it.
Dear @crossmydna, I cannot write you a story, but I do hope that these five scenes will paint you a satisfactory picture… Happy Gallavich Gift Exchange my love 🩵🧡
HOW IT STARTED…
…HOW IT’S GOING
Thank you @gallavichthings for hosting this event <3
Click the ‘Mys Art’ tag to see more of my stuff, or check out my work on RedBubble and AO3
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Lestat going through the extremely relatable situation where no one trains you for your new job and then you get in trouble for not knowing how to do the job
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The new “boy next door” is more of a “silver fox next door”. Mickey likes him. And when Mickey likes something, Mickey gets it.
Dear @crossmydna, I cannot write you a story, but I do hope that these five scenes will paint you a satisfactory picture… Happy Gallavich Gift Exchange my love 🩵🧡
HOW IT STARTED…
…HOW IT’S GOING
Thank you @gallavichthings for hosting this event <3
Click the ‘Mys Art’ tag to see more of my stuff, or check out my work on RedBubble and AO3
Singing “are you having a bad hair day” at a Bengali smoke show with a head of lustrous dark curls that would put a Botticelli angel to shame when you’re hopping around like a bird of paradise doing a mating dance with a frizzy blond mop tortured into ugly pigtails certainly is a choice. Never let anyone say that Lestat de Lioncourt doesn’t have the audacity
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Cutting it close. This was the hardest one so faaaar.
Thanks @gallavichthings once again!!
.-.-.-.-.
GLUTTONY
“Do you think we have enough food?” Ian’s just finished cooking. It’s their first time hosting his siblings over at their new apartment. “I could make more of this salad thing, I can…”
“Ian. It’s good”. Mickey can tell that he’s nervous. “They are going to go home so full that they are going to have the word ‘glutton’ floating in and out of their heads for the next day and a half”.
Ian smiles shyly. “Are you sure? I mean, spaghetti with this tomato sauce doesn’t seem like that much of a ‘thing’, you know? It’s a whatever type of meal, nothing special. Fuck. I know I should have gone for the…”
Mickey places his hands on Ian’s shoulders. “They are going to fucking love it. The sauce has some of the tomatoes from your planters, right?”
A tiny nod from Ian is all Mickey needs.
“I’ll make sure they know that.” He reaches for Ian’s jaw, looking up to his husband, “And if anyone complains they’ll have to deal with me.”
Ian lets go of some of the tension as he releases a small puff of air. “I just want them to feel at home”.
The doorbell rings. Mickey kisses Ian softly. “They are going to love it, Ian”.
So this week's prompt has been brought to us by the fantabulous and amazing @runninonemptyy ! The prompt is Flutter. I submit to you @galladrabbles my first of 2 offerings. Thank you for your consideration!
FLUTTER DOWN
“Mick! Mail is here.” Ian drops the mess of bills and advertisements on the kitchen island. Then starts to open his own mail.
Mickey comes down in his boxers and a robe and kisses Ian's lips before grabbing the mail and pouring a cup of coffee.
Ian is reading through a leaflet about a new pizza place when he hears papers flutter to the floor.
He turns to see Mickey frozen in place with tears in his eyes.
“Oh my god, Mick, what is it, what happened? I'm here, what is it?”
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Day 5! And today's AU comes from Serenity (the 2005 movie sequel to the Firefly TV series).
I'm probably gonna lose some people with this one (sorry), but if you haven't seen it and care, this contains significant spoilers, cos it's from a late scene in the movie. But this scene came to mind when the theme was announced so I had to... Plus it's kind of Gallavich in space?
Also content warnings for violence and injuries.
Wrath
It's been one hell of a week.
They've fought and they've run and they've lost people. Mickey hasn't even been able to enjoy having Ian back aboard, because the rescue was so fraught, and they haven't had a moment since. Just arguments and complications... And then worse.
Now Mickey's trying to finish this. End the lie that the whole fucking Alliance is built on, that he's been fighting against the whole damn time.
Then, just like every other step along the way, the Operative appears out of nowhere to stop him.
But hey, what week from hell doesn't end in a knock-down drag-out fight on a narrow gantry, with a guy who fights with a fucking sword? Because of course he fucking does.
So Mickey fights. It's all he knows how to do, really. Captaining a vessel, leadership, even crime, are secondary to the fact that Mickey fights. For his life. For his survival. And lately? For what's right. For his crew. His friends.
It's all instinct, punches and hits and kicks, trying to keep the guy moving while his sword is still safely sheathed at his back. When Mickey falls over near someone's toolkit, he grabs a screwdriver from the top and turns, only to find himself facing the blade of the sword.
Fuck.
He dodges. Sidesteps. Gets inside the asshole's guard, angled away from the sword blade to try and stab him with the screwdriver, but the Operative holds him off and delivers a blow that sends Mickey reeling.
And then there's a sword piercing his abdomen.
Once again: Fuck.
Mickey's been injured before. He fought a war, he gets in fist fights on the regular, and he's been shot more than once...
A sword is new. Exquisite pain and a moment where he's stunned, unable to move.
The Operative thinks he's won. He's still close, still holding the sword, but he pauses.
"Do you know what your sin is, Mickey?"
The bastard hasn't won. He's going to have to try harder than that.
"Ah hell," Mickey grits out. "I'm a fan of all seven."
Mickey pitches forward, forehead connecting with the Operative's nose. There's a stumble, just a moment, but the asshole comes back... just in time for Mickey to stab the screwdriver through his fist.
Mickey grabs the hilt of the sword that's still buried in his gut.
"But right now I'm gonna have to go with wrath."
He pulls the sword free, gasping at another wave of pain. Pushes through it to grab the hilt in both hands and lift it over the fallen Operative.
