chicagolovestory

[chicagolovestory]

messi celebrating ramos getting a red card until he remembers that they play in the same team

#lmao bye #still can't believe they're gonna play in the same team tho #you protect him ramos😌

[chicagolovestory]

Sandy is tired of third wheeling her cousin and his husband 🙄

More social media aus!

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Mickey, Ian, and Sandy bonding over their gayness?? Jk jk just anything with the three of them lol

“Take a sip or hit if you’ve never fucked around with someone of the same gender,” Sandy says leaning back against the couch in Ian and Mickey’s apartment.

“This feels targeted to the minority here tonight,” Lip says as he reaches for the joint from Mickey and puts down his can of Coke.

“Maybe stop being so straight.” Sandy retorts with a shrug.

Lip takes a hit and then leans forward to pass it to Carl.

Carl shakes his head and that causes an uproar from his older brothers.

“Wait, wait, hold up!” Ian says.

“No fucking way!” Lip laughs, taking another hit.

Carl holds up his hands in defence, “Fuck off,”

Mickey reaches for the joint from Lip and flicks the ash off before inhaling deeply, he holds the smoke in his lungs when he speaks, “So being a queer is just a Gallagher trait then? That’s 3 from 6 siblings.”

“I’m not gay!” Carl says.

“Then tell us what you did.” Sandy says.

Carl sighs, “It’s not that serious, I was at a party one time and I was fucked up and made out with some guy as a dare.”

“Did you like it?” Ian asks.

Carl shrugs and picks at the label on his beer bottle. “Wasn’t a bad kiss.”

Mickey cackles and reaches for Ian’s drink. “Faggot,”

Ian snatches his drink back from Mickey, “Told you to stop fuckin’ saying that shit.”

“I think we can say it, cause we’re gay.” Sandy reasons.

“Yeah! I’m fuckin’–what’s it called, re-owning it?”

“Re-claiming,” Sandy adds.

“Reclaiming! I’m reclaiming it! Congrats on being a faggot, Carl, it’s fuckin’ good shit. Being dicked down is one of the best motherfuckin’ things.”

Ian snorts and pats Mickey’s leg before getting up and walking to the kitchen.

“I’m not gonna fuck a guy!” Carl yells.

“Why not? No one knows what feels good like someone with the same junk,” Sandy says.

Ian walks back in with four beers and one coke, “Junk doesn’t equal gender.” He says.

Sandy holds out her hand for the new beer, “Touché.”

“Carl I’m on your side, you don’t gotta fuck a guy, don’t feel peer pressured by these gays,” Lip says. He crunches his finished Coke can and opens the new one Ian got him.

“Shut up, Phillip. No one asked for your hetero-ass fuckin’ opinion.” Mickey says.

“Lip, I’m gonna ask a question and I want an honest answer,” Sandy says before taking a sip of beer, “Have you ever had anything up your ass?”

“Woah woah woah!” Lip exclaims, “Hold on,”

“Wait no I wanna hear this,” Ian laughs.

“Fuck off,”

“Look it’s not that bad.” Carl says unexpectedly.

“Carl, what the fuck!” Lip says the same time Ian coughs up his drink and Mickey and Sandy start slapping each other in shock.

“My ex, she was into it, look it doesn’t matter, what matters is, you’re the least cultured person here, Lip.”

“Cause I haven’t had something up my ass?”

“Even I’ve had something up my ass!” Sandy says.

“Get with the times, Lip,” Ian says to his brother. He’s got an arm around Mickey’s shoulder and his eyes are bright with the how much he’s smiling.

Mickey raises his brows judgmentally at Lip, “You’ve never let Tami peg you? Pussy.”

Lip looks around the room at everyone in confusion, “I’m not having this fucking conversation. Next question, new round.”

Sandy groans, “Ugh fine. Take a sip or hit if…”

[chicagolovestory]

prompt: sometimes, ian likes when mickey does the holding. interpret as you like :)

It’s Sunday. Ian woke up 20 minutes ago and he’s been staring at the ceiling for 17 of those 20 minutes.

Mickey makes a sniffling sound next to him and Ian finally peels his eyes off the popcorn ceiling and looks at his husband.

Blue eyes peak out from behind dark lashes, glassy and dry with sleep. Mickey gives a tired smile at Ian when his sight adjusts and he rubs at his eyes with his knuckles like a toddler.

“Mmmorning,” he groans out.

“Hey,” Ian whispers back.

Mickey pulls his hands away from his eyes and eyes Ian suspiciously, “You good?”

Ian hums out a neutral tone but doesn’t agree or disagree. Mickey bites at his bottom lip and then opens his arms and wiggles his fingers.

“Come ‘ere,” He says.

That makes Ian smile for the first time all morning.

He shuffles over slowly and huddles against Mickey’s side and buries his face into his neck. His arms are squished into his own chest, his legs intertwine with Mickey’s under their covers and Mickey’s arms are strong around his shoulders, rubbing soothing patterns into his sleep warm skin.

Mickey kisses the top of his head a few times and gives him a tight squeeze, “Love you,”

“Love you too, Mick,”

[chicagolovestory]

so, we know now that mickey liked ian from the get go. that being said, was this mickey sneaking off to make himself look cute for ian? 🥺

yes 😭😭😭

#stop #he’s just- #😭😭😭

[chicagolovestory]

Narrator: he did, in fact, do it again

(Based on Cooperative Gameplay by @gallavichy)

[chicagolovestory]

Are actors Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich dating?

Move over Beyoncé and Jay-Z, there’s a new couple on the block and they’re a fan favorite!

+ Mickey Milkovich’s Dog Bazooka aka Baz

More social media aus!

#!!!!!!!!! #I LOVE THISSSS

[chicagolovestory]

3R Ian and mick 🥰

[chicagolovestory]

I saw this tiktok and instantly had to write this.

Ian and Mickey’s 5 year old daughter, Charlie, discovers a new nickname for her dad.

“Thanks, Firecrotch,”

There’s this beat of silence, Ian staring down at his daughter and blinking rapidly, trying to figure out if he heard her correctly.

Mickey does a double take, turns fully around to look at Charlie as she munches on her grapes Ian just handed her and colors outside the lines of the book her Uncle Liam got her last week.

“What was that, Charles?” Mickey asks because Ian is still staring at her in disbelief.

“I saaaaaaid,” she sings, “Thanks, Firecrotch.” She finishes like she can’t believe her Dads weren’t listening to her the first time.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” Mickey murmurs. He’s trying not to laugh, he looks up at Ian who is still not showing any emotion.

He bites at his bottom lip and pokes Ian’s bicep. It seems to break Ian out of his trance and he locks eyes with his husband. Mickey’s face breaks out in the biggest grin as Ian’s face gets increasingly more angry. His jaw tightens and he gives Mickey a look that most would cower at. He definitely blames Mickey for this.

“Charlie baby, umm, that’s not something that you can say,” Ian says, still giving Mickey evil eyes.

“What’s not?” Charlie questions, looking up at Ian.

“You can’t call me Firecrotch.”

“Why not? Papa does.”

“Yeah I know but, uh-see that’s—a—um—a grown up word! Yeah! That’s a grown up word. Only grownups can say it.” He nods along with his words and runs a hand through his daughter’s soft hair.

“Like fuck?” Charlie questions.

Ian sighs and closes his eyes. He can hear Mickey snickering next to him, like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened.

“Yeah, like fuck.” Ian finally says, because he doesn’t know what else he can say at this point.

Charlie scrunches her face up and thinks on it before nodding enthusiastically and going back to her crayons, “Ok, I won’t say Firecrotch or fuck until I am big.” She decides.

And Ian can’t argue with her logic so he just pats at her head and stands up pulling Mickey with him and grabbing him in a headlock as they exit the room out of sight.

“This is your fault!” Ian whisper yells as they tussle in the hallway.

Mickey is laughing and trying to squirm out of Ian’s hold, “Fuck you, Firecrotch.”

#i laughed so hard #love it!!!

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And here’s what you missed on Cooperative Gameplay.....

So excited for the new chapter and Ian in LA again!

Hope you like it @gallavichy 💗

#omg omg omg #???????? #AMAZING #PERFECT #❤️❤️❤️❤️

[chicagolovestory]

I think that Mickey has a favorite Ian freckle and he tends to kiss it all the time. AND I just think that Ian has a little curl that always sticks out in a funny direction and that's Mickey's favorite curl and he flicks it all the time. AND I just think that Ian loves to caress that spot on Mickey's eyebrow, that he rubs when he's nervous (or about to go off), all the time. AND I just think that Ian love that bit of hair that falls on Mickey's forehead and he especially loves to push it back...

anon please don’t leave please tell me more 🥺🥺🥺

mickey ABSOLUTELY has a favorite freckle. he has a favorite that he likes to look at and touch with gentle fingers, but he also has a favorite that drives him totally bonkers. like one of the little ones on ian’s eyelids, or something, that he can only really see when ian’s nestled up close and sound asleep. he has a favorite freckle on ian’s neck that he loves pressing his mouth to, and he has a favorite spattering of shoulder freckles that look like little constellations that he loves running his thumbs across. but his OVERALL favorite?? hmm, maybe the one just off the crease of his lips, or his chin, or his temple, that comes out so sharply with the summer and mickey can’t stop kissing 🥰

he definitely also has a favorite curl!! when ian’s hair starts to grow out a little bit and he goes to style it, tame it down or slick it back, mickey just knocks the product out of his hands 😭 “don’t touch those curls, gallagher. those are my fuckin curls.” and when they’re cuddled up close mickey will loop the little curl around his finger over and over, just because he can 😭

ian DEFINITELY loves to caress that little spot on mickey’s eyebrow 🥰 and also press little kisses to it!! he’ll use his fingers to smooth down the creases between mickey’s brows and lean into mickey’s body with his own, pressing a kiss to his temple/that eyebrow spot before murmuring into his hair something sweet and comforting, and mickey will go all heart-eyes like he always does when ian holds him or kisses him or leans his weight against him like that. and ian will snake his hand down and lace their fingers together and mickey will just get so very gentle and soft and will melt back against his husband’s body, whatever he was nervous about suddenly a non-factor with ian steady at his side 😭

THE LOCK OF HAIR THAT FALLS ONTO MICKEY’S FOREHEAD 😭😭 oh my god, yeah. ian loves all of mickey’s little cowlicks and really loves the lazy weekends when they don’t leave their apartment so mickey doesn’t even bother fixing them. he flicks them a lot just cause he can 😭 and yes he loves that little floofy piece that likes to fall forward SO much? and is constantly reaching over to caress mickey’s face and push it back. mickey complains because it isn’t even that long and it’s not even in his eyes or anything, but then ian will press a sweet little kiss to the spot on his forehead that he’d cleared and mickey’s brain will go “404 error” before he melts into a puddle, because he’s a giant sensitive sap and ian’s lips brushing against his forehead so casually and sweetly is something he’ll never complain about BYE

#i'm sobbing

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Ian/Mickey + holding hands in public

#🥺🥺

[chicagolovestory]

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I don’t know if you request ideas but I’m obsessed with your style (cause it’s so diverse) but I can’t stop thinking about Een sharing his lunch at school with Mickey cause he didn’t have anyone to make him lunch so Ian gives him his half of p&j sandwich and Mickey’s like no thanks but then he’ll eat it savagely cause he’s actually so hungry 😭♥️🥲

The rest of the pages are on AO3

You can read them ✨Here✨

Thanks for the prompt anon! 😊💖

#smeufonwycyjsbwf #baby Ian & baby Mickey 😭😭😭😭 #ADORABLE #I love this sm!!!!!!! #thank you <3

[chicagolovestory]

Do you think Ian and Mickey consider themselves soulmates.

Ian does. Mickey does too but whenever Ian brings it up he claims Ian's "So gay" for thinking that way.

#they’re so 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[chicagolovestory]

[chicagolovestory]

Ian and Mickey get into a fight. Idk what it’s about, but Ian goes out for some air, and comes back with a puppy. How does Mickey respond?

omg HELLO anon, thank you for this? this has been the slumpiest of slumpy weekends, but I saw this and my brain went "👀 surprise puppy?" and decided it wanted to maybe work a little bit again. so thank you very much for that! ❤

---

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But Mickey -- "

“No fuckin way, Ian. Thing’s probably got, like... herpes, or whatever.”

Ian tilts his head, clutching the small, shivering puppy to his chest. “You mean rabies?”

Waving a hand, Mickey stalks over to the kitchen, brushing past Ian without looking twice. “I mean it’s probably sick, or something, man. What are we gonna do with a sick dog?”

“I dunno,” Ian’s voice trails him, hot on Mickey’s heels. He sounds amused, and Mickey tosses a dishtowel over his shoulder in a huff. “Take it to the vet, help it get better?”

Mickey snorts humorlessly, unlatching the door to the dishwasher and letting it fall open with a bang.

Ian sighs, shifting the wiggling bundle in his arms. “And could you not take out your anger with me on the innocent kitchen appliances, please? If we have to call Martin back in for more maintenance, he’s gonna think we’re fucking... liabilities or something. Report us to admin for destruction of property, and then we’ll be homeless. You wanna be homeless?”

“Ain’t my fault you put rice down the garbage disposal last week,” Mickey griped back, bending down to unload some plates from the bottom rack.

"Hey."

Mickey ignores him, stacking dishes on the counter to be put away. In Ian's arms, the skinny, black puppy whines, squirming into the crook of his elbow, searching for warmth. Making the conscious effort not to look too long, Mickey still feels a pang in his chest. Its little eyes aren't even open, yet. It’s so small. 

"I know you're pissed at me," Ian says, then, and his voice has dropped a bit, more serious. His hand snakes around the puppy's little head, scratching gently behind its ears. "I was being a dick earlier, and I'm sorry. But... he's just a baby, Mick. He would’ve frozen to death, if I left him outside. He needs someone to take care of him."

Mickey chews on his lip, looking between the puppy and Ian’s open, earnest face. "What if it's already someone’s pet, or whatever?” he mumbles, and turns back to the dishes.

“He was in a box,” Ian sighs, and the dog makes a quiet, whining sound as if in agreement. “Behind a dumpster. Looked like there were more in there, at one point, but he was the only one left. The runt, maybe. I don’t think anyone’s gonna be looking for him, Mickey.”

Mickey tried not to picture it — picture that little, fragile thing, alone in a box in the Chicago winter. It makes his chest ache. “Well, what if it’s sick?” he tries, shifting on his feet. “We'll take it to the vet, and wind up havin’ to put a shitton of money into it."

Ian pauses, at that, narrowing his eyes. He watches Mickey for a long moment, and Mickey tries not to bristle under his gaze, hair sticking up on the back of his neck. “You don’t care about the money,” Ian says after a long moment, like a fact. “You’re worried about getting attached to him.”

“‘m not worried about anything, man.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted a dog, at some point? A big backyard, couple of pitbulls?”

Mickey pushes out a long breath, taking up the silverware basket in-hand to sort away their two-of-everything utensils. “Said I wanted a dog. Not some... shaky fuckin’ rat.”

“He’s a baby,” Ian reiterates, as if Mickey had forgotten, in the twenty-five seconds since he’d said it last. “Way too young to be away from his mom, honestly. And he’s scared, right now. He’ll get bigger, more comfortable. Just gotta get him clean, and warm, and fed.”

“What if I... hurt it, or something?” His gaze trails over the puppy, the tiny paws, the little, floppy ears. “It’s the size of my fucking shoe, man.”

“Here, give me that.”

And before Mickey knows what’s happening, Ian’s using one hand to pull the silverware from Mickey’s grasp, setting it down to the countertop, and then Mickey blinks down at his sudden armful of little black puppy.

It’s eyes aren’t even open, yet, Mickey notices again with a lurch. Someone just left it in a fucking box behind a dumpster, and it’s not even old enough to open its eyes?

Mickey adjusts his hold, hyper-aware of how small and breakable it is. He glances up at Ian, tearing his gaze from the tiny, pink tongue that’s only just visible. “What the fuck, Ian?” he hisses, and Ian just shrugs, smiling ever-so-slightly.

“Just hold him for a second, Mickey. Please? I wanna go get some stuff together to clean him up, and we have to keep him warm.”

Mickey blinks at him, eyebrows raised, about to protest, but then —

— the puppy in his arms yawns, face scrunching up and tongue curling, and then presses his face into Mickey’s chest. For the first time since Ian’s walked through the door, he stops squirming, stops wiggling, goes totally still.

It makes Mickey’s heart pound in his throat.

“Shit,” he curses, and bites down on his lip. He drops his head, watching closely, eyes trialed on a little belly that has a patch of white fur down the middle. “Fuck, I think I killed it.”

“Mickey.” Ian’s voice, full of amusement, can’t draw his gaze up — he needs to make sure it’s breathing. “Mickey, he’s sleeping. He likes you.”

He feels a hand on his shoulder, then, and lets Ian tug him under his arm. Feels Ian’s lips against the side of his head, but Mickey still can’t lift his gaze from the little puppy, curled up in the blankets, watching for the little rise and fall of it’s breath.

“I’m sorry,” Ian apologizes again, murmuring against his hair. “For earlier. And if you really don’t want him, we can take him down to the shelter or something first thing in the morning. But we at least gotta get him cleaned, and warm, and fed for tonight. Okay?”

And it’s there, the little up-and-down of its chest, of it’s little white belly, and Mickey can feel slight washes of heat against his chest where the dog’s face is nestled. He wets his lips, rips his gaze away from the little nose and the eyes that haven’t opened, and finds Ian’s gaze. There’s a trace of something in those green eyes, something warm and full, and Mickey can’t even remember what they were fighting about earlier, really, or why they were so upset with each other.

It seems stupid, in retrospect — whatever dumb, pointless argument they’d had. Trivial, when there’s someone leaving boxes of puppies outside in the cold.

He chews on his lip, knowing somewhere deep down that he’s lying when he says, “Fine. Just for tonight.”

If the way that Ian smiles at him and kisses his cheek before bounding off to get some warm towels ready is any indication, he knows it, too.

—————

They compile every scrap of information they can about caring for puppies under eight weeks old. They take him to the vet, get everything that they need to get him healthy and growing — heating pads and soft blankets and special formula that costs way too much, but the little puppy guzzles down like nectar, and it goes... a lot better, than Mickey anticipated it would.

It’s not ideal, to have a puppy separated from its mother that young, and there are a lot of extra steps they have to take to make sure he gets everything that he needs to thrive. Mickey makes up a whole notebook about it, rivaling his wedding-planning binder, and when the puppy falls asleep in Mickey’s lap, safe and sound and getting stronger every day, he can’t help but think that maybe... maybe he’s okay at this whole taking care of others thing, after all.