#good morning mr gallavich

[mickeyalekslaydr]

oh the thumb ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

[heymacy]

Hey, let's play a summer game!!

See our gallavich boys with cones? Which one of them do you want to give a scoop of ice cream? And which flavor would you choose for him?

Then tag one friend you want her/him/them to play next! I'll add your choice of ice cream ball to the cone (then on the former ice cream ball) and send a new ask with the new pic to the person you tagged! And don't worry, the choice of flavor can be repeated!

At the end of summer I'll post the final pic, see how many ice creams we gave to Ian and Mickey and how tall their ice creams can get! 😁

last: a mint chocolate chip ball for ian from @astaraels

oh good morning, this is delightful! i will add a scoop of coffee ice cream for mr. milkovich and tag @deedala to continue on ✨🍦

[gardenerian]

SHAMELESS SOUNDTRACK | 10x12 “Gallavich!”

“At Last,” Etta James | My lonely days are over, and life is like a song. 

[buckleyagcd]

Season 5 Ian will always have a special albeit painful hold on my heart ❤ 💔

[gallawitchxx]

WIP SUNDAY / MY FIRST FICLET 😇

i was tagged by the scrumptious @gallavichismyjam to share something from one of my WIPS. the thing is... i haven't actually shared any of my fic writing yet.

so... here's a lazy morning ficlet i wrote that doesn't belong to anything except gallavich & me & now you?

☀️ ☀️ ☀️

The only good thing about their building’s ridiculous “whites only” curtain policy was the way the sun filtered softly through them, bathing the side of Mickey’s face in early morning light.

Glowing, Ian mused, admiring the man sleeping next to him. His husband.

In moments like these, soft and still, he still couldn’t believe that they got to have this.

A quiet apartment for just the two of them--fresh, white walls free of holes made by bullets or the dramatic whack of a sledgehammer, a garbage disposal, a working fireplace, and a small balcony for watching the neighbors while sharing a smoke.

There were some familiar things of course, like Debbie’s potato masher that Mickey had made good on his promise to steal, and the mattress that they’d lugged from the Gallagher house. It was stained, but warm—a real change of temperature for a relationship that was once confined to a walk-in fridge.

Intersections of their old and new lives, of what was and what could be for two Southside strays who’d survived, together.

It was hard for Ian to always stay in the present when looking at Mickey, all of their timelines collapsing, the many fucked up versions of them both playing in his mind like old, home movies.

As Mickey exhaled small puffs of air through his nose, burying one eye further into the pillow beneath him, Ian shuffled through bedrooms and prison bunks, buzzcuts and undercuts, oversized, winter coats and undersized, gold shorts, Mickey’s slight smirk behind glass, and his own reflection staring back at him—first freckled and fond, then pale and gaunt. Someone he no longer knew.

Spin the wheel long enough and it was sure to land on something that ached, due to circumstance or regret.

Ian made sure not to stay there for too long, lest he forget how to come back to the here and now. To Mickey’s U-UP hand resting gently on his bicep, which still ushered in more memories of penthouse parties and much needed confirmations, Together.

He knew that he didn’t have long now. Mickey would start to stir soon. A lifetime of hyper-vigilance had left him with an uncanny sense of when eyes were on him. Ian hoped that one day those reflexes would soften. Muscles atrophied by lack of use.

When the moment came, though, Mickey simply raised an eyebrow, catching his bearings before twisting his lips in a small, but contented smile. A long way from full body jerks and whatever used to catapult him into consciousness.

One bright blue eye met one glazed green.

Ian sighed, reaching over to caress the soft hairs of Mickey’s cheeks with his thumb.

Another memory. A quiet kitchen. The smell of burnt toast. Morning Mr. Milkovich. Morning Mr. Gallagher.

“Hey, where are ya?” Mickey whispered, his voice crusty with sleep and smoke.

Ian blinked himself back. He scooted closer to Mickey, his lips brushing gently against the other man’s forehead.

“Here. Everywhere. But always with you.”

“Fuckin’ sap,” Mickey murmured, tucking into Ian’s neck. “If these curtains didn’t make you look so damn good in the mornin’, you can bet your sweet ass we’d be back on the Southside already.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. How’s anyone supposed to sleep in next to a fuckin’ ginger glow bug?”

Ian laughed, pulling him closer. He closed his eyes, settling in to clean sheets and bedside tables and sunlight, feeling Mickey’s breath stutter, then even out again. Felt his own breath match his husband’s--2 men, 4 lungs, together.

[chicanomick]

Okokok imma try to catch up on all the beautiful tag games y’all tagged me in!!!

For starters WIP Wednesday tagged by @ardent-fox !

I have so many gallavich wips but this is the one in working on the most atm!

This is a future au where a married Ian and Mickey, after years of marriage and raising two wonderful children think the only thing left to life is blissful silence before death. Until Ian’s mental health delivers its final blow. Dementia.

It’s a short one shot not really angsty despite what the summary claims because my poor heart can’t take that yet but I am hoping to test out new writing tropes and techniques and angst or heavy topics is something I’m new at! Enough rambling and on with the WIP

~*~

The door on the right of Mickey opens and a doctor walks in, hesitating slightly at the sight of the two men.That hesitation doesn’t get him mad anymore. He doesn’t always expect it but it doesn’t fill him with hot rage like it used to. He remembers the times when the hesitation used to make his mind blank with fear, how it used to make him shrug off Ian’s arm when all he wanted to do was hold his hand. When he couldn’t be himself.

But those days are nothing but memories. Distant memories that are hard to grasp, to remember, on certain days.

Now when people hesitate, he simply holds his husband's hand and waits. Lets those homophobic fucks decide if they’re gonna suck it up or pussy out. Because Mickey Milkovich-Gallagher is done fucking hiding.

“Good morning, Mr. Gallagher-Milkovich. I’m Dr. Rivera and I’ll be attending you today.” The doctor puts a clipboard down on her desk and looks up with a smile, any hesitance from before is gone, “Hope the wait wasn’t long.”

“Yeah hey, so give it to us straight Doc., what’s going on?”

Ian kicks Mickey’s shin and smiles apologetically at the doctor but doesn't verbally apologize for Mickey’s behavior.

That’s another thing that has changed in their many years of marriage. Ian doesn’t apologize for Mickey being Mickey. He doesn’t apologize for Mickey like he’s something to be ashamed of. Not anymore. Sure there are times when Mickey is an asshole and insensitive and Ian will nudge him or give him a little pinch. Act civil, he’ll say. But never act differently.

“Mr. Gallagher-“

“Please, call me Ian. I know the hyphenated name can be a handful.”

Before Mickey can open his mouth to make a crude joke there’s another kick to the shin.

Act civil

[gallavichismyjam]

I love you Mickey Milkovich. More than anything.

A couple that hides?

Nick Jonas!!

Good morning, Mr Gallavich

Alright you've convinced me, I'll take him off your hands

Let's ride

Looks like we both moved on, so no reason for things to be awkward, right?

And he's taken

Gimme a list of shit you need and I'll pick it up for ya

He isn't afraid to kiss me

En garde!

Ready to do this Milkovich?

[restapesta]

gossip never ends

Mickey Milkovich simply just showed up one day at the Old Army, tattoos on his knuckles and a scowl on his face. Lola couldn't help but be intrigued -- nobody lasts here long enough to pique her interest, but there was something special about this guy. The gossip spreads like wildfire, but Mickey's something else altogether -- it's just a matter of time before Lola and her friends figured out why.

OR: How Mickey's coworkers found out about who Mickey really was back in season 10 -- this is more of an outlook on Mickey and his feelings throughout season 10 and how it reflected on his job and altogether his demeanor.

This is based on a prompt by @whatwouldmickeydo which was also even more explored by one of my favorite Gallavich accounts on Tumblr @ianandmickeygallavich -- so, I simply just worked through what they had already created. I hope they don't mind I used their prompt and this is dedicated to both of them! Enjoy!

words: 5.3k

The gossip began almost the exact moment Mickey was introduced to the three workers by the manager.

The Old Army staff was not a stranger to new workers coming and going, some people sticking around longer, working for a couple of months without stop, maybe even sticking around for a full-time position; some just passing through while on trial-basis, failing to meet the manager's demands and simply moving on to find better or more fitting employment -- but the sight of Mickey Milkovich was definitely not something, Lola thought, anybody, not just the curious employees, was used to.

Lola fell into the group of people who had been working at the store for ages now, starting years ago and still sticking around now, subsequently being present for all the biggest changes made to and within the popular store. She saw the interior change, the managers shift, the employees getting hired and fired -- she saw it all. It couldn't be said for many people. Honestly, only three members of the Old Army staff had actually been working full-time here, while everybody else was just a passing face.

She was so used to seeing new faces that it simply did not phase her anymore -- Lola had her own stable position in the store; she had her colleagues which she got along with, and she never paid much attention to the newbies once they came into the store. She knew it was almost always just for a short while, basically until they made a mistake while working and got politely declined for the position, so she usually just remained civil, not engaging in much mingling or bonding -- it wouldn't last anyway.

The staff change happened way too often, especially with security. The store management had no idea how to pick the right person for the job -- they either always chose the gangly, skinny types; the ones who couldn't defend others or themselves from a burglar if their life depended on it, or they chose the fatties who had a donut too many during their break and couldn't chase ten feet after the culprit.

Still, this guy -- this new, weirdly interesting guy -- seemed promising.

Lola had no idea where they managed to find him -- he was kinda hot, and definitely in really good shape with thighs and calves that could probably kill if they wanted to. He seemed crude and unapproachable, and the brooding, mysterious attitude definitely didn't quench anybody's curiosity as to where the hell he came from and how the hell they managed to find him of all the people in the world. A scowl was constantly etched on the newcomer's face -- not just when he was being introduced to the staff by the manager, as Lola thought would be the case -- but literally at every single given moment of the workday.

There were only rare moments Lola and the others saw him smile -- usually every single one of those moments being when he was texting someone during his break, or when he was coming back from having lunch with someone at the food court. Not that anyone would dare ask who, although they definitely speculated.

Mickey was the type of guy Lola was interested in making friends with. She approached him once during their shared shift -- usually, she wouldn't even bother, seeing how these guards come and go, but this one really piqued her interest -- trying to figure out who he was, where he came from, what he was doing here. Was he single? She needed to know for her lady friend considering how he was most definitely a sight for sore eyes.

It came as somewhat a surprise when he gave off clipped answers to her questions, most of them not even answering.

"Did you always work security?" She'd ask with a bright smile.

"You could say that."

Silence.

"How long are you planning on staying with us?" Trial-basis or undefined employment? Lola wondered silently.

"Until Larry finds me a better job."

Silence.

"Who?"

Silence. And then a quick, "Never mind."

Lola had officially given up on her efforts to befriend and find out more about the man once Mickey gave her a sharp, pointed stare after she pointed out he didn't have a ring on his finger, hoping he would reveal his relationship status to her.

She most certainly wasn't that lucky, and she almost shat her pants at the murderous expression on his face. She didn't ask again.

The others tried to pry information out of Mickey too, but they certainly lacked the subtlety Lola had. She honestly couldn't say she was the most discreet person in the world, but she was in the Old Army, considering how she found herself working with the two most non-discreet people in the world. Lola was upfront too -- let's not get that wrong.

But at least she didn't outright ask him if he was in a gang like Jeremy did.

"I wanted to know if the tattoos were gang symbols! They freaked me out!" The skinny twenty-year-old replied when the other workers gaped at him with wide eyes.

Jenna shook her head. "Dude, you can't just ask a guy if he was in a gang."

He wouldn't reveal his age, let alone his gang status if he had one, Lola scolded Jeremy mentally. The guy was as open as a seashell -- you could try and pry it open to see if it had a pearl inside, but you'll most likely fail and, to be honest, probably get pinched in the process, if not careful. It was perhaps best not to even try or, if you did, to proceed with extreme caution. A bunch of seashells didn't even have pearls in them anyway, so it'd all be useless in the end.

It only took a week for the staff to find out how Mickey managed to find himself here at Old Army out of all the possible places in the world. It was a shock, to say the least.

One morning, the revelation came when Larry Seaver showed up to the store, dressed in a nice suit and tie, wearing his casual, perky smile. He asked for the manager and had greeted Mickey immediately once he laid eyes on the man. Larry approached him as Jeremy went to get the manager, placing a firm hand on Mickey's shoulder, smiling widely at him.

Lola and Jenna weren't snooping, but they did manage to overhear Larry asking Mickey if he enjoyed working here; if everything was going well; if he was staying out of trouble -- a question that certainly didn't help stop the gossip -- and if he settled in home nicely.

Mickey responded to most of his questions with short, non-descriptive answers, but not with any malice or disdain. He answered them as if he had to, putting an emphasis on the "I'm not getting into any trouble, don't worry Mr. Cheery," making Lola wonder why the question even needed to be posed.

When the manager finally showed up, greeting the man happily, Larry followed him to his office, leaving the others to get back to the customers -- and some to get back to stopping crime. It was only when Larry Seaver left that Jenna shouted, "Oh my God, he's a parole officer!" at the other two workers while drinking coffee in the break room.

"He's a what?" Jeremy asked, slightly confused.

"A parole officer! I heard him talking to the manager about Mickey and how he's settling in. Mickey is a parolee!"

"Jesus Christ, I knew it! And you told me I shouldn't be scared." Jeremy answered with a sullen look, exaggerating a shudder.

Lola quirked an eyebrow at her friend. "Were you eavesdropping?" She was more amused than surprised if she was honest.

Jenna shook her head at Lola in exasperation. "So not the point. Lola, the guy went to prison!"

"We should all just quit now," Jeremy added.

"Come on, you big baby. The guy keeps to himself. You have literally nothing to be scared of." Lola was rolling her eyes at the man, slightly annoyed at the comments.

It didn't surprise her Mickey was here on parole -- it didn't surprise her he was in prison at all. He seemed like the type, not just because of his sullen look and crude knuckle tattoos. It also had a lot to do with the way he carried himself as if the entire world was against him and he needed to protect himself from the inevitable upcoming battle. It was probably why he never spoke to anybody, why he never had coffee with them, and why he seemed to avoid human contact at all possible times. It was also, now, very much obvious why he was so good at guarding the store -- it takes a criminal to catch a criminal, she guessed.

Honestly, it all just made him more interesting.

"I kind of think it's hot," Jenna admitted sheepishly.

Jeremy's eyes bulged out. "You're kidding me."

She shook her head, smiling like a teenage girl. "He's dark, brooding, mysterious. And he's got a really nice ass."

Lola laughed at her friend and at Jeremy's horrified expression. "You should go flirt with him. Maybe you'll be able to figure out if he's single or not." She was only partly joking. Jenna probably didn't need a repeat of what Lola had gone through.

She sighed sadly. "A guy like that is not single."

"Yeah, sure. An ex-con definitely isn't single and is probably in an extremely committed relationship with somebody who loves him for who he is. And that same ex-con guy totally loves somebody back with his whole, entire heart." Jeremy quipped sarcastically and Jenna pinched his bicep in response.

"Love is love, asshole. People murder for love."

Jeremy nodded in response. "Exactly. That's probably why he was in prison."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "You know what? Unlike Jeremy here, I'm not a pussy. I'm gonna go talk to him."

Lola's eyes widened in response and she smiled widely. If anyone would take the bullet for the team, it'd be Jenna. "You go, girl! Get him. Just make sure to be subtle about it"

Jeremy and Lola watched as Jenna went up to Mickey who was standing next to the Old Army store entrance, looking as bored and uninterested as ever. When he saw Jenna approaching, he grimaced, obviously preparing himself for the confrontation.

Jeremy and Lola locked eyes as Jenna began to audibly flirt with Mickey. They couldn't hear everything she was saying from where they were eavesdropping but they didn't hear Mickey even speak. Based on the disappointed look on Jenna's face when she walked into the break room again, they didn't think it went that well.

"So?" Lola inquired hopefully.

Jenna shook her head. "Completely uninterested. I even made my boobs look bigger in this shirt. Didn't work, obviously."

"What'd he say?" Lola probed deeper.

"Well, I asked where he lived, where he used to work, if he was settling in nicely -- and he just kind of hummed."

"Hummed?"

"He barely even answered the questions."

"Maybe he's gay and in a committed relationship with a dude," Jeremy added sarcastically, once again. "Maybe I should go up and flirt with him instead. See if it works for me."

Jenna rolled her eyes at Jeremy's sarcasm. "You're too big of a pussy to do it. Plus he's probably not gay."

Jeremy didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he just smiled. "Whatever you say, Jenny. Oh, by the way -- I totally am."

Mickey never spent his break with the others. In fact, he was either sitting outside the store, drinking Pinkberry and messing around with his phone, or he was at the food court, presumably meeting somebody for lunch. Lola was dying to know who, but she never dared to ask or to check, although it would have been so easy.

The curiosity extended out of the workplace as well -- Jenna, Lola, and Jeremy had a group chat. It was, at first, formed as a work chat, purely for announcements and work hours, but as time passed -- and as the employees and employers changed -- it evolved into something much more. Now, it was their main gossiping media.

 --- old army besties ---

LOLA (9:56 PM): I can't find him anywhere on social media.

JEREMY (9:58 PM): You're obsessed.

LOLA (9:58 PM): Fuck off, Jeremy.

JENNA (10:03 PM): There are a bunch of articles about him escaping prison!!!!!!!!!

LOLA (10:04 PM): NO SHIT

LOLA (10:04 PM): LINK NOW

LOLA (10:04 PM): !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JENNA (10:06 PM): https://images.app.goo.gl/rzDzCogf1H84QD78A

JENNA (10:06 PM): HEHAGDJADGAIGDAJFGAJFGAJFGA

LOLA (10:08 PM): oh my god

JENNA (10:08 PM): I KNOW

JEREMY (10:07 PM): ya'll are crazy

JENNA (10:08 PM): Is it bad it just makes me even more attracted to him??????

JEREMY (10:09 PM): yes.

LOLA (10:09 PM): NO!

LOLA (10:10 PM): Jenna, same.

JEREMY (10:11 PM): I have a psych ward to recommend you to. Hold up.

JENNA (10:11 PM): Jeremy, stfu

*JEREMY has left the chat*

LOLA (10:12 PM): You wanna add him back in or should I?

JENNA (10:12 PM): Neither.

JENNA (10:12 PM): Let him suffer.

 The gossiping continued for a while. It didn't honestly seem like it would stop at all, and nobody really seemed inclined to put an end to the wildfire gossip that spread through the entire Old Army staff. Not that anyone cared much, either, if they were being completely honest.

One day, though, the Mickey who was always grumpy and never without a scowl seemed particularly furious.

He spoke to no one, he didn't check his phone at all, which was a rare occurrence and almost never happened -- he was usually glued to the thing, always texting someone -- and he basically looked like he was ready to kill the next person who dared steal something from the store.

"Anyone wanna ask what crawled up his ass and died?" Jenna asked lowly, observing Mickey from where she and Lola stood behind the cash register. Jeremy hung around in the back, angry that they still hadn't added him back to the group chat.

Lola simply grimaced. "I guess we've been dealing with happy Mickey all this time."

Jeremy pretended not to pay much attention to them, very much bitter. He just muttered, as a side note, loud enough to get even Mickey's attention, "Yo, I guess they found who killed that parole officer."

That piqued Lola's interest. The murder was all over the news the day before -- a parole officer named Paula had been thrown out the window -- and Lola didn't expect them to have found the killer so soon.

"Already?" She wondered, out loud.

"Who is it?" Jenna asked.

"Some ex of hers -- Shelly, I think. They arrested her yesterday."

Lola released a sigh. "That's some good news. Now she can't hurt anybody else." She mentally applauded the police for the good and quick work.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mickey was listening in to their conversation. She could have sworn she heard him snort when she muttered the last part, the one about it being good news. She saw an opening, and when Lola began to open her mouth and try and include him in the conversation, he had already turned around and left to stand back at his regular spot, expression sullen, pretending as if he never even cared to listen in after all.

Mickey was gone all of a sudden one day -- as the manager had told them briefly, on paid leave. He didn't reveal why or when he'd be coming back, only saying how Mickey had something important come up, and that he'd eventually be back. He didn't seem to be aggravated while talking about Mickey, so Lola guessed he didn't get fired, nor that he was being tested again for his position -- he had honestly been doing great. Better than the ones before him, at least.

Lola was actually somewhat shocked. She was also slightly disappointed he didn't tell her.

Mickey had actually started opening up a little -- not much (when she said little she meant very little) -- but he was finally communicating with them during their shift together, something he most certainly hadn't even tried to do, no matter how hard they tried to push. He also seemed happier, coming in one morning looking the happiest Lola had ever seen him.

It was the first day Mickey made actual conversation with her -- about the ugly clothes in the store, nevertheless -- and she genuinely was starting to like him.

"Maybe he likes you," Jenna told her after noticing them talking.

Lola blushed. "Probably not."

Jeremy snorted and both women turned towards him. "He's probably more attracted to me than you." He muttered absentmindedly while scrolling through his phone.

"Still sticking to the gay theory?" Jenna asked pointedly.

"I may not be dark, brooding, and mysterious, but my gaydar is on point. At first, I was skeptical, but he rocks that pink pastel shirt a little too well." He said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Jenna and Lola shared a look before both rolling their eyes.

"Let's hope he asks you out." Jenna finished and Lola blushed even more. Stupid crush. Jeremy snorted.

She was a little disappointed he was gone but his step-in was a cute guy and the gossip between her, Jeremy, and Jenna was endless -- Jenna and Lola came up with different theories as to where he was which all ranged from family emergencies to crazy prison breaks -- Jeremy would simply roll their eyes at them whenever a new theory came up.

When Mickey came back a couple of days later, it seemed as if he had a spring in his step. For the first time in all the time Lola had known him, instead of a scowl, there was a smile present on his face.

"Holy shit, he's smiling." Jenna pointed out incredulously, and Lola simply nodded shell-shocked. He had a beautiful smile.

It was even weirder when he greeted them when he walked into the store, uttering a simple, "Hey" which neither woman expected.

"So, that's happy Mickey," Lola said under her breath. "Good to know."

The sudden chirpiness didn't disappear throughout his entire shift and Lola began to wonder what type of vacation he had gone on to be this happy. She needed to ask him -- if it could take the stick out of his ass, then it could definitely make her feel like she was in heaven.

The answer came shortly after.

"He's got a ring on his finger."

"What?" Lola and Jenna exclaimed simultaneously, looking at Jeremy like he was crazy.

"The hell are you talking about?" Jenna asked, glancing between Jeremy and Mickey, inconspicuously trying to catch a glimpse of Mickey's hand.

"He's married, guys. He probably got married while he was away. There is a golden band on his ring finger."

Lola and Jenna were surprised they missed it. The ring shone brightly on his left hand, reflecting the shitty lighting of the Old Army store. It looked beautiful and, somehow, it made him look complete. She didn't even realize something was missing until it was there, staring straight at them. That's what the wedding ring seemed like -- a piece of Mickey they were all simply missing. Something that let them know that there was somebody in his life, a single person, who had his heart -- a person who managed to pry open the shell and find the pearl. Perhaps the process was painless; perhaps it wasn't -- Lola supposed there were only two people in the universe who truly knew the answer to that question.

"Well, I didn't see that coming."

Lola chuckled, letting the genuine happiness she felt for him consume her. "Me either."

The next time she passed him, she smiled at the ring widely. "Congratulations! I see the ring." She pointed at his hand.

Mickey smiled softly, gazing at it with a look in his eye Lola could only describe as love. "Yeah, thanks."He seemed a little uncomfortable, so Lola refrained from asking about his wife, and if he had any pictures to show her. She was learning new things about this man every day. The woman who tied him down must have been patient, but also extremely lucky.

"Ugh, I wish he was single," Jenna muttered again later on in the day, gazing longingly at Mickey's ass. "That butt makes the whole ex-con, escaping prison thing worth it."

Lola laughed at her friend, agreeing silently.

It was nearing the end of their shift, and the four people had changed out of their uniforms, getting rid of the ugly pastel pink color, exchanging it with something that was actually fashionable -- Mickey had an especially good fashion sense, in Lola's opinion (he could rock ripped jeans). Mickey had still been in the staff changing room when Lola noticed a guy hanging around the store. A tall, extremely hot redheaded guy, with one of the best bodies she'd seen on a man in a while.

She shook Jenna's arm so she could point out the guy to her, aware that Jenna deserved to gaze at a man this good-looking. He was wearing a tight-fitting black shirt along with skinny jeans that accentuated all of his muscles, from the ones in his arms to his leg ones -- he was ripped, and Lola could only assume there were chiseled abs hiding underneath the shirt. He was drop-dead gorgeous.

Jenna turned around to see what the fuss was about, but her mouth fell open when her eyes landed in the ginger.

"Oh my God, I think just came."

"Me too," Lola admitted. She was genuinely concerned for her wellbeing. "I think we need to get laid."

"Definitely." Jenna's eyes were glued to the man. His hair was perfect too -- slicked back, and just... it was a sort of, ' you simply had to see it to believe it' type of situation. He was beautiful. "Man, how the fuck does God create these men?"

Jenna didn't tear her eyes away. "He must be either really bad in bed or a total douchebag. There's no way he's that hot and nice too."

They suddenly heard Mickey's voice behind them. "Trust me, he's neither."

Lola and Jenna jumped in surprise, but she didn't even have a moment to think about what Mickey said. She was still looking at the ginger, but his green eyes were locked on somebody else though, and he didn't even seem to notice the two women gaping openly at him.

When Lola turned to follow his gaze she was surprised to see it land on Mickey.

"Oh my dear Lord, he's totally eye-fucking Mickey!" She whisper-shouted at Jenna, Mickey being far away not to hear her. Jenna whipped her head around towards where Mickey stood, seemingly unaware.

"Oh my God, he totally is!"

Mickey noticed them staring. He raised an eyebrow at the two women and then as if on a whim, approached them. "You need anything?" He asked, seemingly uncomfortable, but he still paid no attention to the fact a guy was blatantly letting it show on his face that he was imagining all of the things he could probably be doing to Mickey, right now. The redhead had the biggest case of bed-eyes she'd seen in a while.

Lola blinked herself out of her daze. "Um, no. Uh, we just-- we, uh--" She was at a loss for words and Jenna didn't seem to even think about helping.

"Ugh, God." They suddenly heard Jeremy exclaim. All eyes turned to him. "There's a really hot guy outside the store, and he's staring at you." He made a gesture as if saying, 'See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?'. "That's what they're trying to say."

Mickey turned to look forward outside and when his gaze fell on the guy -- the guy he had most certainly already noticed -- his face lit up even more, and his lip curled into a smirk. He turned towards Jeremy and nodded at him. "Glad to see you toughening up."

Jeremy smiled at Mickey as if they were sharing an inside joke, and both Lola and Jenna had no idea what it was. They shared a disbelieving look. "Learned from the best, man," Jeremy replied as they fist-bumped and Lola knew her and Jenna's eyes had to be unnaturally wide.

"So um, so you know the guy outside? He's totally checking you out." Jenna nodded at the hot guy who was still watching them -- watching Mickey, specifically. Lola guessed he was waiting for him, for whatever reason. She guessed hot guys stuck together. If he wasn't a ginger, Lola would have assumed they were brothers and that the good looks simply ran in the gene pool. Lola watched as Mickey locked eyes with the man and smiled. The guy raised his eyebrows in question and Mickey just kept the grin on his face.

"That's Ian, my husband."

Shock couldn't even begin to describe what Lola was currently feeling. If somebody had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water down her back, she would have probably been less surprised. As she was contemplating everything she knew and had been learning about Mickey, the man in question waved towards Ian to join them. Ian made his way inside and Lola could lie and say she didn't swoon.

"Hi." He greeted sheepishly with a smile, previously observing the commotion.

Mickey seemed unnaturally relaxed as he stood close to Ian, wrapping a hand behind his back subconsciously. Lola wondered who the man in front of her was -- it most certainly wasn't the grump Lola had been working with all this time.

"Ian, meet Lola, Jenna, and Jeremy."

Ian smiled politely at all three of them, leaving Lola in a daze -- God, he was gorgeous. She was just about to reply when he nodded at Jeremy specifically. "Sup, Jeremy. Heard a lot about you."

Jeremy smiled back at Ian. "Same, dude. Your husband just can't seem to shut up about you."

Ian smirked, and then turned to look at Mickey, "Is that so?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Fuck you both. I got married. What am I supposed to do? Just shut up about it? Hell no."

Ian laughed and draped an arm around Mickey's shoulder. "Don't worry, baby. I don't mind."

Ian and Mickey shared a quick look, and Lola wondered if she would ever find a person who would look at her the way these two men looked at each other. She suddenly felt bad for thinking Mickey was straight -- everything about this simple interaction screamed gay.

"We should head home, I know you've been waiting for ages outside."

Ian nodded. "Yeah okay, let's go." He then smiled at the three people in front of them widely. "It was nice meeting you guys."

Jeremy was the only one capable of responding. "You too."

"See ya'," Mickey muttered lamely as a goodbye and the couple was out of the store in the blink of an eye, arms wrapped around each other, talking quietly, their expressions pure happiness.

Lola and Jenna turned around to stare at their friend.

"What the fuck was that?" Lola asked, incredulous.

The traitor in front of them shrugged. "What? While you guys were coming up with conspiracies and weird theories, I actually talked to the guy. He's pretty cool. He was raised and lives on the Southside where he met Ian. He first spent some time in juvie. Got shot twice. Went to prison, escaped from prison, went to Mexico, worked for a cartel, rolled on said cartel be with Ian. They were in prison together and they decided to get married when they got out. He's actually been giving me tips to boost my street cred. We've been working on that shit for some time now."

Lola shook her head in thought. "When did you guys become so close?"

Jeremy snorted. "When you decided not 5o add me back to the group chat, bitches." He smirked. "Revenge is a dish best served cold." As an afterthought, he added, "I'm not dark and brooding, but I guess I can add mysterious to my list of charms."

Lola and Jenna watched him as he turned around.

"Is it just me or did he suddenly get hot?"

Lola sighed loudly. "I think we've been tricked."

Jenna groaned, suddenly. "I can't believe it. Two men that hot -- and they end up with each other. Like, what the fuck? Why can't there be one for me?"

Lola laughed, but, as always, silently agreed.

Everybody lost their jobs when the pandemic hit, and when the Old Army finally went back into business, Mickey Milkovich wasn't there. The gossip moved on to different topics and different employees -- the hot security guard was nothing but a distant memory.

The next time Lola saw them was years later. She was much older, much more experienced, and much more in love. She had met somebody, had fallen deep, and it had changed her life for the better.

Love was an interesting thing.

Mickey was standing at the corner of a street. The sun was shining brightly above him, and Lola realized he still looked as beautiful as ever -- his face was much more relaxed though as if the walls he had spent years putting up were suddenly all down, letting his pearl shine through, and glint in the sun. He was waiting for somebody outside of a store, and somehow, Lola knew it was his husband.

She couldn't remember his name, but she could never forget the look.

So many years had passed, and Lola had gone through so many relationships -- but the look was what always had her looking for more, never settling for anything short of what she knew she could have. What they showed her she could have.

Once she found someone who looked at her the way Ian -- Lola would only remember his name sometime later in the day -- looked at Mickey, and somebody she would look at the way Mickey looked at Ian -- that was when she'd know she had found the one.

Ian exited the store, much to Lola's expectation, his red hair, slightly grown out, fiery red in the Sun. The boy holding his hand was smiling widely, and the smile only grew once he saw Mickey.

The boy dropped Ian's hand and ran towards -- Lola simply knew -- his father, jumping into his arms. Mickey picked the small boy up effortlessly -- he was no older than five -- laughing along with him as the boy dove into, what Lola presumed, a story.

Ian and Mickey shared a look, so akin to the one they had shared that day, years ago, in the store, filled with so much love, adoration and happiness before focusing their gazes on their child. It wasn't just between them anymore -- the love they had was now for the little boy as well, nurturing and taking care of him, allowing him to bask in it. They probably didn't even realize they were doing it.

Lola felt tears in her eyes.

She had once searched for the look.

Now, she hoped she would one day be able to share this look with her own husband and her own child.

Lola patted her swollen belly.

One day.

She watched as the two men and boy pulled away, still listening to the story the boy was telling. Lola pulled her phone out as she watched their retreating forms.

Lola opened the group chat, typing excitedly.

 --- old army besties ---

LOLA (12:33 PM): You'll never guess who I just saw.

 She was thankful for many things Mickey Milkovich showed her, but the one thing she was grateful for the most was that thanks to him, the gossip never ended.

[gallavictorious]

Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It / Rewrite

Right, so fix-its aren’t so much my jam, but there is this one weird, weird, weird thing that I’ve (so far) been unable to meta into any sort of sense. Namely, Mickey looking like that in season 11 while apparently not working out. It’s just… uh… he… what? At one point I hypothesized that he’s been bitten by a radioactive spider or the like, leaving him magically super buff, and to be honest, that’s still the most reasonable explanation I can think of, soooo…

Today I'm back at my nonsense to bring you, everyone and especially our dear @gallavichthings, 2,711 Very Serious words about Mickey being a secret superhero. Well. Except for the hero bit.

Read it below or on AO3.

---

In Which Mickey Milkovich Does Not Save the World

Afterwards, he would always refer to it as the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell, but the truth is that Mickey never saw the thing that got him.

He was going about his business (namely poking around the Gallagher basement for any forgotten shit he could sell for beer money now that all the cash from the wedding had been surreptitiously replaced with I.O.U:s) when he felt a sudden, sharp pain just above his ankle. Cursing up a storm, he desperately waved his foot around and lost his balance and stumbled straight into one of the many piles of boxes that littered the basement. By the time he was back on his feet whatever creature that had dug its nasty little teeth/pincers/claws into his tender flesh had scurried off, leaving Mickey with a throbbing ache and a halfway impressive puncture wound on his left leg.

Muttering darkly about fucking Gallaghers being so used Frank they didn’t know how to keep goddamned monster vermin out of their shitty house Mickey limped up the stairs to pour some Jamison on the wound, and then pour some down his throat because he had the bottle out already so he might as well. He borrowed one of Franny’s colourful pirate-patterned band-aids, and when his nosy as fuck ex-EMT of a husband asked about it later that evening Mickey said he’d dropped a can on his foot, it’s just a scratch, man, no you don’t need to take a look at it, just put your fingers back in my ass, please.

Mickey didn’t make a habit of lying to Ian, but he figured that telling the truth would lead to all sorts of questions about why he was in the basement and having to come up with plausible explanation for that when he should just be focusing on getting railed wasn’t part of his plans for the evening. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Ian, who’d been getting so worked up over money lately, to distract him with that sort of unimportant stuff while they were banging. Mickey was a considerate spouse.

Thankfully, Ian dropped the subject and proceeded to do his husbandly duty. Mickey went to sleep deeply satisfied.

He was almost as satisfied the next morning when he woke up to realize that the pain in his leg was gone, as were all traces of the wound itself. Mickey had always healed pretty fast, but this was quick enough to have him questioning whether or not he’d really been bitten/stung/whatever at all. Maybe he’d had more beers than he thought and imagined the whole thing… ?

It didn’t really matter, and if that had been the whole of it Mickey was likely to soon have forgotten all about the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell. However, in the next few weeks he started noticing stuff, weird stuff. For instance, it wasn’t just the (possibly imagined) bite/sting that healed far more quickly than normal; it was all the little cuts and scrapes he tended to acquire. A big bruise from running into the table while playing with Franny; faded to nothing the next morning. A cut from the razor; gone within the hour. For the first time he could remember, Mickey looked at his naked body in the mirror and saw not one single wound (though there were still scars aplenty). It wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but it was weird.

Then there was that thing with his muscles. Mickey had been in decent shape for most of his life and whenever he got locked up for extended periods of time he made a habit of hitting the gym on the regular. Really wasn’t much else to do in the joint, and having a decent bulk reminded the other inmates that you weren’t someone they could push around; letting people know that you could beat the shit out of them often meant you didn’t have to actually do it, which saved everyone a lot of time and energy and trips to the prison quack. But on the outside, exercise wasn’t very high on Mickey’s list of priorities, meaning he tended to slim down a bit after a while in freedom.

Not now, though. Almost a year after being out of prison, and he was still as built as ever; if anything he seemed to be developing more muscles, in spite rarely engaging in anything more taxing than vigorous fucking. (Okay, so there was a lot of vigorous fucking, but still. If anyone ought to be building their biceps from the sex they were having, it should be Ian.)

Mickey didn’t mind being inexplicably ripped, though. He felt great, looked great – and Ian seemed to be pretty into it, too. Then again, Ian seemed to be pretty into Mickey whether he wore dirty clothes, sported a beard, sported a dress, or hadn’t showered in a week, so maybe that wasn’t saying a lot.

But even given all that, maybe Mickey still wouldn’t have thought too much about it (he was, after all, very busy being on his honeymoon, which required lots of determined sleep-ins, dedicated beer-drinking, and – obviously – lots and lots of banging) if there hadn’t one day come a knock on the front door. At first he ignored itm in the hopes that someone else would get it, but when it became apparent that a, he was alone in the house, and b, whoever was at the door wasn’t giving up anytime soon, he grabbed the family baseball bat (even big soft ass Larry would react to Mickey opening the door with an extremely illegal gun in hand) and went to answer the insistent knocking.

Outside stood two women, looking an unsettling mix of sober and apprehensive and eager. One of them reminded him vaguely of Angie Zago; the other was taller and darker and quite possibly brooding.

“Can I help you?” he demanded, not quite as rudely as he might have. He didn’t think they were social workers, but one never knew; they’d been checking up on Debbie and Franny ever since Debbie pleaded guilty to statutory rape.

“Mr. Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich?” Not-Angie inquired in a polite sort of tremble. 

“Who’s asking?” Mickey demanded, feeling a little thrown by the use of his full name. The only people who pulled that out was law enforcement, and neither of these ladies had that feel about them. Especially since they seemed to be… excited to meet him, which wasn’t a reaction Mickey was used to getting. Particularly not from ladies looking like they ought to be out collecting for the fucking Red Cross.

They better not be asking for donations for the Red Cross.

“I’m Tania and this is Dreamweaver,” Not-Angie said. “Can we come in? It’s really best if we talk in private.”

Mickey didn’t move. “Dreamweaver? You kick your mama too many times in the kidneys before you were born or something?”

The women glanced uncertainly at each other. “Mr. Milkovich,” the one improbably called Dreamweaver began, but Mickey cut her off:

“You with the police?”

They quickly shook their heads. “No, we— “

“You here to give me money?”

“No, you see, it’s— “

“Okay, thank you, bye.” But as he moved to close the door, Tania – displaying more spunk than he’d have given her credit for – took a step forward and blocked the entrance.

“Have you been experiencing any strange body phenomena lately, Mr. Milkovich?” she blurted. “Wounds healing very quickly, perhaps, or increased muscle mass?”

Mickey stilled, eyes darting between the two women. Small, small smiles on their faces now, as if they knew they had him. There was a hint of hunger to those smiles, making Mickey feel uncharacteristically uncomfortable. The urge to push Tania back and slam the door shut was strong, but…

“Fine,” he said at long last. “Come on in.”

They better not be fucking cannibals either.

---

They called themselves The Guardians, and they wanted him to save the world.

Mickey asked what numbers they were talking and, after getting bored of their uncomprehending stares, clarified: “How much is it gonna pay? What’s my cut?”

Dreamweaver frowned. “You mean… money? As in a… salary?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s my salary?”

“Mr. Milkovich, saving the world is a higher calling and a duty, it’s not something that– “

“Uh-huh. So, just to be clear, you’re not gonna pay me?”

They weren’t. Mickey laughed in their faces, stood from the couch, and told them bye and good luck with that and don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.

They reasoned with him. They pleaded. They explained, again and again, that after the evil society USCH destroyed The Guardian’s headquarters in a devastating attack, the two of them–and Mickey–was the only thing standing between the world and utter destruction. Surely, he must understand that it was nothing less than Fate that had brought the one remaining Bestower Bot into the Gallagher basement and his path? Admittedly, injecting Mickey with the bio enhancer might have been the result of a malfunction – Tania and Dreamweaver had found the bot dead down the street a couple of nights ago – but didn’t he see that he had been called to serve as a warrior in the fight against evil?

“Yeah, no thanks,” Mickey told them, and then he picked up the bat and waved it around until they took the hint and left.

When Ian returned home a few hours later, Mickey carefully didn’t mention the curious visit or any of what Tania and Dreamweaver had told him. Ian was pretty into saving people and had all these lame ideas about service and honor, and Mickey found it more likely than not that his husband would both be upset that Mickey, rather than Ian himself, had been called as a warrior (it’d be Lip and West Point all over again, Mickey just knew it), and demand that Mickey answer the call and run off like some loon to get himself killed by evil technomancers.

Mickey didn’t particularly feel like dying and he didn’t like the idea of hurting his husband’s feelings either, so he kept his mouth shut and skillfully derailed all of Ian’s attempts at asking about his day by giving him a blow job, teasing him about being a grunt, and allowing himself to be wrestled to the floor when Ian decided he’d had enough of teasing. It was a good evening.

As he lay in bed that night, back against Ian’s chest and with those strong arms wrapped around him, Mickey wondered if it would be worth risking Ian’s reaction by going public. Okay, Tania and Dreamweaver had mentioned how he’d probably gotten a pretty small dose of the bio-whatever-the-fuck, lending him nothing more exciting than enduring muscle mass and enhanced healing, but that should probably be enough to turn him into a cut above the rest, right? He could hire himself out to the highest bidder and make a fortune doing private security or collections or stuff like that. Fuck, he’d even consider taking on jobs for The Guardians, if they just agreed to pay him.

It was a fun thought to play with, but in the end a long life in the shadows made Mickey wary of putting himself out there like that. Besides, he’d seen enough movies to know that it’d probably wouldn’t be long before he mysteriously disappeared to some secret government facility to be experimented on. He’d had enough of the state’s hospitality to last him a lifetime, so thanks, but no fucking thanks.

And that could have been it. Should have been it, but of course Tania and Dreamweaver wouldn’t leave well enough alone. They started showing up at the Gallagher house at all hours, whenever they knew they could get Mickey alone. They accosted him on the way to the Alibi, they sat down next to him on the L, and they left him pictures of puppies with little notes saying stuff like “Only YOU can SAVE him from BURNING. Have a HEART”.

It was exhausting. Fearing the retribution of the cartel hadn’t anything on fearing seeing Tania and Dreamweaver’s disappointed-yet-still-somehow-hopeful-and-terribly-determined faces appear in a crowd, or round a corner, or on the porch when he went out for his evening smoke.

Mickey began to lose sleep. He’d spend the nights tossing and turning, which led to him staying in bed half the day to catch up on much needed rest, and he was often so tired he couldn’t bring himself to put on proper clothes or go outside the door the whole day. 

Ian was on his ass about getting a job; he didn’t get that Mickey had a job, and that job was not getting lured into sacrificing his life for the greater good. If Ian didn’t like the prospects of being a prison widow, how offensive wouldn’t he find the prospect of being an actual widower, after his husband got blown to bits by some big bad villain?

It got to the point of Ian initiating a sex strike to force Mickey to get “a real job”, which struck Mickey as really fucking unfair, considering how all he was trying to do was make sure Ian even had a husband to refuse to fuck.

Enough was enough. Something had to be done. Fortunately for Mickey – and unfortunately for Tania and Dreamweaver – Mickey had a guy for everything. As annoying as The Guardians were, Mickey didn’t have the heart to see them killed, but he figured that having them kidnapped and shipped off to some sweatshop on the other side of the world would serve the same purpose. He felt a little bad about it, sure, but he had given them plenty of chances to fuck off. Not his fault they couldn’t respect a fucking boundary.

Mickey called Johnny, told him the score, and a few night later Johnny called Mickey to tell him it was done.

It was done. Over. Mickey would finally be able go about his life in peace again, giving all his attention to his husband and doing his outmost to make him the happiest man alive every single day, even when Ian was annoying as hell and started asking pointless fucking questions about how Mickey was in such great shape even though he never did as much as one single curl up.

I see. So… you’re telling me that you have secret superpowers.

Yeah. Except, not actually secret anymore. ‘Cause, you know, you told me we shouldn’t have secrets.

… yeah, that was three months ago.

Guess it must have slipped my mind, huh.

Must have. But let me get this straight: you couldn’t get a real job because you were busy dodging secret agents, and your muscles are the result of you getting bitten by some magic robot—

Radioactive motherfucker bug from hell.

—and not you sneaking down to the basement to do weights and cardio almost every day?

… oh.

Yeah, oh. Carl told me about it, asshole. He noticed you using some of the stuff down there. Don’t get why you’d wanna keep that a secret though?

…

Mick. We have to be honest with each other, remember?

Jesus Christ, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.

Okay.

Guess the first time was back when you had that dip a couple of months after the wedding. Few times after that, if we had a fight or whatever and I needed to let off some steam. Then you started working and sometimes I got bored watching TV all day but you were all mopey about your shitty job and me not having any and you have this thing about your body—

I don’t have a thing about my body.

­—so I didn’t really wanna rub your face in me having all that time to work out when you could barely squeeze in dozen push-ups in the evening. And I guess I didn’t really want anyone to know that I… cared, or whatever.

Cared? About what? Being healthy? Looking good? Being strong?

Whatever, man, I told I don’t fucking know. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause it was a radioactive motherfucker bug from hell that did it.

Of course it was. Come here. Show me what that bio enhanced body of yours can do.

---

Ahahahahahaha, would you look at that. I tried to meta it anyway. 😭😭😭

You might reasonably ask about Mickey’s visit to Kev Fit – how does that fit? WELL, I rather imagine that whatever Mickey does in that basement is enough to keep him fit but still not SUPER hardcore? So when he starts worrying about Ian thinking him weaker than, he decides to take it up a notch and do it properly in a real(ish) gym? And his comment about “not remembering how much working out sucks” is part of the whole “not wanting anyone to know this is something I care to do on the regular”… Yeah, it’s pretty weak. All in all, I’d say the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell is still our best bet. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This is probably the last time I have one of them tell the other a story this week, but I make no promises. These little ficlets don’t tend to go as planned. (Ha! She said, as if there was a plan to begin with. Oh, well. I guess it’s working out so far.)

[oatmilkovich]

loved reading all your acting thoughts! there's been some talk in fandom lately about how gallavich kisses have changed over the course of the last 2 seasons and seem a bit awkward and perfunctory at times even vs. earlier seasons where they seemed much more 'natural' for lack of a better word. wondered if you had also observed this and had thoughts on this from an acting perspective. it sounds like the show got an intimacy coordinator recently and part of me wonders if that led to the change since noel and cam clearly didnt have issues throwing themselves into those scenes previously. i'm also still trying to wrap my head around the hos bloopers kiss and how that would have fit in (scripted or improv) but that's probably a whole other can of worms. they clearly seem very comfortable with each other after having worked together for so long, which is wonderful! anyway, just love hearing you talk about acting and cam and noel :)

hey!

thanks for the question, it’s a super interesting one. so i discussed this quite a bit with @xgoldendays – because we discuss everything. so michelle feel free to add your take if you want to! <3 

i’ve seen this conversation happen a lot on my various timelines in the last few days and honestly, kisses are kisses to me – idk maybe it’s because i’ve been watching the show for years and lived off the club kiss for an entire season, but the shift between kisses old vs new hasn’t really been significant enough to bother me. anyhow here’s my actor-y thoughts... 

firstly, an intimacy coordinator isn’t going to be like ‘don’t shove your tongue down each other’s throat’ – an intimacy coordinator is there to make sure no one is being exploited or taken advantage of during intimate scenes. it’s very unlikely that their introduction in the crew had very little impact on the way cam and noel kiss each other in the scenes. what is more likely to have impacted the way that they kiss is the writing. 

the club kiss, border kiss, docks kiss etc... are all born from moments that are very heightened. the stakes are HIGH, mickey and ian have things to say and things to lose with those kisses. noel and cam have a lot more to work with and sink their teeth into. we know as a fact that they improv-ed a lot of the docks scene – this naturally leads to more reactive and real responses. even in scenes where they’re not improv-ing, eg: the club kiss, the situation they’re in is so significant for both characters, so fuelled by the drama, that of course it’ll result in a passionate kiss. those moments are so much easier to ground yourself in as an actor. it’s okay for a silly horny kiss in an ambulance to be less. it’s okay for the good morning mr gallavich kitchen kiss to be less. those scenes are less. i understand why people would compare them, but it’s a little silly to me cause ian and mickey are in completely different places now. cam and noel are going to be interacting with those scenes differently now. 

i go on about it quite a bit, but there’s no stakes in the writing anymore. they’re married now, they’re not leaving each other at the mexico border worried they won’t see each other ever again, it’s okay for a kiss to be boring or less than the ones that have come before it because the show is different now. ian and mickey are different people than they were. cam and noel will have a different experience filming those scenes – they’re not going to be filled with as much passion or drama. in the grand scheme of the dramatic story of ian and mickey, their scenes now are boring – and that’s okay! and for cam and noel they’re gonna be less exciting and interesting to film! their acting is still very much rooted in truth, but given the lack of stakes and significance of those kisses, things are gonna be different! it’s completely understandable to me that they seem different. they’re still clearly very comfortable with each other (you can tell that by the hos kiss) but, imo, it’s simply that the scenes have less behind them, therefore their kisses have less behind them. like, i’m sure if the show actually allowed a truly pivotal moment for them again (take the proposal kiss for example, we know there was a lot cut in the editing room and that was a moment in the last few seasons WITH higher stakes) things may be different. 

in regards to the hos kiss – it’s up for your interpretation but i like thinking about it as just a silly extra gallavich kiss, rather than a moment of improv tacked onto the end of that episode. don’t think too hard about fitting it into the canon storyline, just let yourself enjoy it for what it was! <3 

thanks for the question, it was a great one to ponder because i have actually been thinking about it a little. 

<3

[littlespoonevan]

I really hope we get a scene similar to the start of the breakfast one but with some/all of the Gallaghers sitting at the table. So when one of them comes down the stairs and they say good morning Mr Gallagher/Milkovich they can all roll their eyes because after 6 months of marriage they're still doing that!! Why cant they focus more on getting laughs with that kinda thing instead of stupid stuff thats been and done years ago.

ugh you and me both, anon!!! this would be such a good scene, i’m craving a gallavich + gallagher family breakfast scene so bad!!

[gardenerian]

some absolutely unhinged new year's thoughts under the cut:

well hey hi, happy new year 💫

i don’t really buy into the idea that a new year will really bring that much change. seems like a tough standard to hold yourself to. and if the last couple of years have taught me anything, it’s that life does not abide by our arbitrary calendars - but jesus i am glad to see this year end. 

2021 was easily the worst year of my life. a lot of you were here for that - sorry for the realtime mental collapse, by the way. no hospital blogging in 2022? 🤞🏻🕯✨ i spent a lot of this year feeling lost and aimless and angry. but as we tend to do, i found ways to stay invested in this little life - i read a lot of books, took a lot of walks, wrote some words, clicked some buttons, made some stuff, cooked some meals. i took my time thinking and existing and being myself. there was suddenly so much time to be me - terrifying, sometimes boring... but the time was mine. 

and you know what else i did? i came here and i talked. i talked a lot. and - holy shit, you all talked back. 

and i don’t - i don’t have words for what that meant. what it means. all of you, all of our chats, from the inane to the serious to the absolutely unhinged... they kept me thinking, they kept me laughing, they kept me hopeful. this space became such an important facet in my recovery this year and i can’t begin to thank you enough. 

staying interactive here - anon asks or DMs or tag games or holy shit it’s gallavich time or prompts or headcanons and random thoughts - 

ficlets and speedwrites and bedtime stories and gallavich week and big bang and kinktober and freaking the fuck out over the deleted scenes and picking apart BTS pics and yeah yeah yeah and rain on me and, fuck, even the way we get by.... recovering from the finale - 

UAOC comic nerds and TLO mickey and EM ian and maeve and henry and SWA ben and ITQD linus and mr darcy mickey and seer mickey and ghost mickey and tattoo artist mickey and musician ian and GARDENER IAN and social worker ian.... finn and brit and mina... the stories you gave them and gave us.... reading these pieces of you all - 

gif memes and endless creativity coming from all corners of this space and feeling like an artist and learning from you all and the ART the art all the colors and the scenes you made with your hands! gardener ian in his sun hat and grow better 😡mickey and the matching baby tomato costumes and ian and mickey in their halloween onesies and ian freaking out in target and - 

gallacrafts and gallakitties and gallacats and gallabitches and watch watch 2021 and weekly 7x10 freakouts and their first anniversary and then their first anniversary again when shameless decided it was in march - 

it has meant... all of it... it has meant the world. i have made some of my very best friends this year. friends for life. friends to sip apple cider with and walk around midtown, friends to trade love letters with, friends to say good morning and goodnight every single day, friends to give every bit of my heart.

you. all of you. every single one of you. you deserve to know how special and valued and loved you are. and guess what? you are so special to me, i value you and i love you 💕 thank you for being here, thank you for being you. 

i am excited to start a new year. i think some good things are on the horizon - for all of us. so happy new year ✨ i hope good things are coming your way. 

[buckleyagcd]

Well, if it isn't everyone's favourite 'ocean eyed' thug muffin 😌😊😍

[bellafarella]

People may disagree with me on this but I hate that people call Debbie and sandy gallavich like no they are miliger or what Mickey said when Ian was like good morning mr gallavich like they worked hard for the name gallavich and it should not be given to Debbie out of all people😭what do you think?

Omg who disagrees with that?!?!?! I hate it so much. Give them a different name!! Like I dont think anybody ever called Lip x Mandy gallavich so like why ??????

I also can't stand Debbie so like its hard for me to ship them together because Sandy's way cooler than she is, like debbies a self centered bitch lmaooo

But ya no I can't stand it I find it dumb af. Give them a different name if you ship them. They are not gallavich, thats reserved for ian and mickey 😌

[ianenjoyer]

me: *wakes up*

the tiny ian that lives in my head: good morning mr. gallavich

[virgils-thundercloud]

12x10 is a blessing. A true motherfucking blessing

In my mind it’s the perfect episode. Good screen time for Gallavich, actual sibling interaction between the Gallaghers, interesting side plots, an overall amazing plot and episode. Usually I’d be dragging the writers or the editors but everyone really fucking nailed it.

This episode really felt like the quality of older Shameless seasons. It had so much hilarious and heartwarming sibling interaction so the episode actually felt connected (which I'll touch on later) and it had some of that South Side charm added to it with Mickey running after Terry with a shotgun with no hesitation, the things that made this show stick out in the first place.

Ian and Mickey made me literally shake and squeal, which was painful to hold in since I had to wait until 1am to watch the ep. Noel and Cameron really brought their A game to this episode and you could tell in so many scenes. When Ian had to calm Mickey down, Ian’s close-to-tears look when he looked at the smoke, Ian and Mickey’s hopelessness in the kitchen and Ian not being able to reassure Mick because outside of the Milkovich family he’s probably the only one who knows what Terry’s capable of, the pure looks of happiness all through the wedding and the reception. It’s enough to make a bitch cry. And it did. I’m the bitch and I cried a lot. Every one of their scenes hit me right in the feels in one way or another. Personal favourites include: their morning scene (Mickey’s lil eye crinkles), them talking about kids (”I wouldn’t mind a kid or two.” “There’s lots of strays runin’ around. I’m sure we could pick one up for cheap.”), them showing up to the new venue (”the chivari chairs look good”), the actual ceremony obviously (I, Mikhalio, take you, Ian, as my husband. To have and to hold, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health etc.), and the slow dance scene (I should probably go dance with my husband). okay so basically all their scenes but still. These two really got the screen time and the storyline they deserved and if you’re familiar with their story together then you can almost hear what they’re thinking at times. Especially with the Terry stuff and the “Mickey might have to marry Debbie” stuff. Long story short, Gallavich in this episode owns my entire heart, soul, and being. 

The Gallagher sibling interaction this season has been low if at all, but this episode kinda makes up for it. We have Carl engaging with Liam, Ian and Mickey, Liam engaging with Lip, Mickey and Frank, Lip engaging with Debbie, Liam, Carl, Ian and Mickey, Debbie engaging with Lip, Ian and Mickey, and Ian interacting with all of his siblings. Lip’s little pep talk with Ian just before the ceremony starts, Debbie’s talk with Ian about Monica, Lip and Debbie working together to save Ian and Mickey’s wedding, etc. It was all beautiful. Yeah Lip had his own shit, and it was pretty important shit, but he didn't ruin Ian’s wedding over it. The scene with Carl, Lip, Sandy, Kev, V and Debbie doing everything they can to find another venue while Ian and Mickey had already given up was a godsend because it really showed how even after all the years, they’re still the most important thing in each others eyes. And even though Liam wasn’t there with them, he not only was getting Gallavich their honeymoon car but he also got Frank to come to the wedding because he knew Ian would appreciate it even if he said otherwise. Also, Lip and Debs and everyone else coming together to secure a venue, low-key scam the homophobic owners, and protect Ian and Mickey from Terry hit differently and it really cements how much everyone cares about them. (even if that one dude at the bar was a bit of a dick) And that Franny content was beautiful. I also liked how Frank was crying by the end of there ceremony. He does still care!

Usually I don't get too invested in Lip’s storylines but this one hit hard. His argument with Tami made me feel so bad for him and doubled my dislike for Tami even if she came around in the end. I started to cry when Lip started drinking and then again when he went to his sponsor’s house looking broken. I felt so bad for him. And I actually liked Debbie in this episode, which is a rare occurrence. Julia was being a bitch and Debs tried to kick her out, but didn't make a scene at the wedding. I do feel a bit bad that she had to miss her brother’s wedding so she could distract the owner though. JULIA CAN GO TO HELL AND STAY AWAY FROM CARL PLS & THANK YOU.

Things about this episode I didn't like:

-How Debbie just let Julia stay there? Like I know she tried to get her to leave but it’s not like they're strangers to this sort of thing. Get Sandy to carry that bitch’s ass out and leave her in the streets.

- “Good morning Mr Gallavich” I hope they dont stick with that name. It’s kinda cute but I would’ve preferred Gallagher-Milkovich

-The Gay Jesus squad came out of nowhere but I'll accept it because they kept Terru away

-I loved the Gallavich content we got but maybe if they talked about how this shit was affecting them?? Kinda OOC but I can dream

I loved the cake toppers tho.

TL;DR: This episode was perfect and everything I wanted and Cam & Noel are the best humans and actors.

So yeah that's my review. This is my first time being in the fandom for the airing of a season finale and I have no been disappointed. See you in season 11!