I don’t play the games but I keep seeing edits of Cameron’s character in Jedi falling order on tik tok, and all I can think about is how Mickey would react if the games somehow existed in the shameless universe. Something tells me they might be his favorite…. 😏
I’m new to this tag but I just wanted to show off my new fall out boy tattoo I got! Folie a deux has been one of my favorite albums for almost 10 years, and I’ve been going back and forth on whether I should get a fob tattoo or not but I decided to just do it and I love it! Does anyone else have any fob/band related tattoos?
I love your gallavich tik tok trends posts! Who do you think would do the one where the person walks up to their partner fully naked to see their reaction?
thank you!
i’m on my lunch break (they made mine far too early and i’m annoyed) so i’ll do this!
i think i’ve had this ask before, and i think mickey would do it!
so, ian’s made a very annoying habit of calling lip every other day for an hour. mickey doesn’t get it, they see the guy once a week and that’s more than enough, but ian still insists on calling him.
when mickey sees the trend of standing naked and seeing what your partner does, he decides that it’s the perfect thing to get ian’s attention.
he doesn’t follow the trend exactly, though.
straight out out of the shower, he comes into the kitchen wearing ian’s pyjama pants and ian’s boxer briefs and no shirt, because mickey knows ian likes seeing him in his clothes.
he makes a show of it, too. making sure he’s in ian’s eye line with his chest still wet from the shower as he bends over to rummage through their cabinet. he stretches over ian to steal his can of coke, noticing how ian’s eyes linger and he has to ask lip to repeat himself, because he wasn’t listening.
mickey smirks.
he leaves the room, stripping off the pyjama pants but keeping the briefs, curious about how long it will take ian to snap.
when mickey bends over in front of ian again, pretending he dropped something, he knows he’s got ian’s attention.
“what are you looking for?” ian asks, sounding annoyed and turned on.
mickey shrugs. “not sure, just hungry.”
he can feel ian’s eyes on him as he walks around.
the next time he comes into the room, he’s fully naked.
it takes ian zero seconds to notice. his mouth sort of gapes open and he almost drops the phone.
“hold on, lip, i’ll call you back.” he says quickly hanging up the phone.
mickey purposefully ignores him.
“what are you doing?” ian asks hurriedly.
“just walking around, why?” mickey tries to look innocent.
“where are your clothes?”
“it’s fucking hot, man.” is his excuse and ian watches him as he walks around, practically drooling.
mickey counts in his head, and gets to five before he feels big hands on his waist.
“you can’t just do that, mick.” he hears in his ear, then the big hands are flipping him round and hoisting him onto a counter
-> send me a tiktok trend and ill write a short fic
I've been in the fandom for a few years now here on Tumblr, and I've had a few decently popular gallavich posts (when I remember that this app exists every few months haha), but I realized that I've never actually introduced myself on here. I saw this fun introduction post made by the amazing @callivich, so I thought I'd join in on the fun :)
Name:
- Hannah
Age:
- 22
What made you fall in love with Gallavich?
- I feel like I started shameless completely blind to the ship. I started watching it because a bunch of my family members were watching it and talking about it during the covid quarantine time period, and I thought it seemed interesting, so I started watching it myself. I remember being shocked when they first hooked up, but never really having an opinion on Mickey until season three, and as you guys can probably tell by the username, I became obsessed haha. season 4 is when I really fell in love with the ship.
How long have you been a fan?
- I kind of answered above but around summer 2020 during covid. The only season I watched live was 11, which maybe is a good thing because I don't think I could have handled season 5 or 7 in real time.
Favorite Gallavich moment/scene?
- maybe basic, but I am obsessed with the prison reunion at the end of 9x06
Favorite Shameless character apart from Ian and Mickey?
- I am a Sheila Jackson stan first and human 2nd. I missed her so much after she left
Do you write or draw or make edits?
- I have 2 works on ao3 (same username), but I hate them both
- some of my shitposts here on Tumblr are funny
Favorite type of Gallavich fics?
- I am a sucker for some hurt/comfort and angst with a happy ending
- other fics I enjoy include: jealousy, post canon (anything with husbands gallavich), fluffy smut, fix it fics
- I like some AUs like high school/college, but tbh I don't read many AUs unless I find the plot super interesting
Favorite Gallavich quote?
- The whole "I gotta worry, you're my husband" convo in that scene that they should not have deleted in season 11
- "I didn't know which Bs to get, so I just got all the fuckin Bs"
Anything else you’d like to share about yourself?
- I was raised on a farm, which surprises people because I generally don't give off that vibe
- I am one year away from getting my bachelors degree in bio engineering (nerd)
- My favorite artists are Fall Out Boy, Doja Cat, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Tayor Swift
A little birthday morning ficlet for Ian’s birthday! 🎉🎂🎁
——
“Hey.” Kiss. “Happy.” Kiss. “Birthday.” Kiss.
Ian is gently roused from his sleep by his husband hovering over him, pressing soft kisses to his face. He smiles, eyes still closed, and enjoys the warmth of his bed and the comforting weight of Mickey half on top of him.
“I know you’re awake, asshole.” Kiss. “Open your eyes.”
“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to call me an asshole on my birthday.”
“Hmm, ok. Open your eyes, Gallagher.”
“Oh, last name? Too formal. Nope.”
“Fuckin’…..Ian, husband, open your eyes.”
That does it and he’s greeted with the sight of a smiling Mickey wearing a shiny party hat. “Oh. Love the hat.”
“Mmm. Knew you’d like it. This is a one day only thing and I’m not letting anyone else see me wear it.”
Ian adjusts it and strokes his hands down Mickey’s face. “You look very cute, Mr. Gallagher.”
“Thought last names were too formal. And I’m not fuckin’ cute.”
“You are. And it’s my birthday so I can say and do whatever I want.”
“I’m beginning to regret promising you that.”
“Too late. C’mere.” He drags Mickey closer for a kiss, letting his hands wander down his husband’s body.
“What do you want first - your birthday breakfast or your birthday breakfast?” A wink and the subtle grind of his hips let Ian know that the second phrase is not food related.
Ian grins and is about to choose the second when his stomach rumbles. He laughs and Mickey jumps off him. “Guess that settles it. Wait here, birthday boy.”
Shuffling up so he can rest his back against the headboard, he can’t stop smiling. He hears his phone pinging with messages that are probably all from his family but those can wait. Birthday mornings are always a husband-only event. They’ll be plenty of time for family at the dinner tonight.
Mickey returns with a tray - one that Ian has never seen before and it warms his heart that Mickey has either bought or stolen it especially for him. He places the tray on Ian’s lap and settles on the bed next to him.
Ian knows he’s being stupid but he begins to tear up a little bit at what’s on the tray. Coffee steaming hot with a splash of milk, just how he likes it, in the ‘world’s best husband’ mug, his medication for the morning, and a plate of donuts resting on top of colourful paper napkins covered in ‘happy birthday’.
“Chocolate creams. Got ‘em from that fancy place that just opened up.”
They look so good - round and fluffy, decorated with glossy chocolate and in red icing a tomato shape and the word ‘Ian ❤️’.
“The icing is strawberry and the chocolate is apparently some special stuff. Organic or whatever. If you don’t like them, I can run out to Sweet Susan’s-”
“Mick. I love them.”
“No crying.”
“I’m not. I’m just happy.”
“Ok. I’ll allow it.” He swipes a thumb under each of Ian’s eyes. “Now try one before I eat them all.”
Ian moans in delight as he takes the first bite, they’re still slightly warm which means Mickey got up early to run out and pick them up. (He tries to stop himself from tearing up again.) The donut is better than any he’s had before - the dough is light and airy, the filling creamy and rich, and the topping is just the perfect amount of sweet. He eats two and contemplates a third one but decides to save it for later.
Mickey goes and gets his own cup of coffee and comes back to nestle into Ian’s side. They talk about the family dinner later that night and what Ian wants to do for the rest of the day. After presents, of course. Mickey downplays them but Ian can tell he’s put a lot of thought into them.
“You want them now or-”
“Maybe after the rest of my birthday breakfast?”
“Oh.” Mickey grins, taking the tray and placing it on the floor. “Yeah, the donuts were just the uh…appetiser.”
“Uh-huh.” Ian’s wriggling out of his boxers. Mickey’s doing the same but then he reaches for the hat. “No. The hat stays on.”
“Why?”
“Want you to ride me wearing the party hat.”
“Of course you do.” He laughs and climbs into Ian’s lap, naked apart from the hat. “Happy Birthday lover.”
BIRTHDAY TWINNNN HAPPY BIRTHDAY! i hope you have the most wonderful and magical day! spiritually i am bringing you cake and balloons for us to sit and share together ✨
@gardenerian Omg my idol thank you! I hope you have the best day as well🎂
happy birthday to our dear sweet mel, our tomato ian monarch, a beloved and important presence here. i love you @gardenerian and i've written you something short and sweet. i hope you enjoy!
continue below the cut, or read on ao3 💙🍅✨🌸
It’s a beautiful day, one of the first nice days of the year. It’s the kind of warm that leaves you feeling chilly as soon as you’re in the shade. But they’re going to sit right in the sunlight, Ian thinks, tugging Mickey along by the hand.
He thought this was going to take some convincing, but all he had to do was suggest it. Mickey was itching to get outside too, it seemed. Now they’re trudging through the grass, blanket under Ian’s arm and Mickey’s hand in his.
There are a lot of people around, but the park is big, and it isn’t so crowded that they have to set their blanket up anywhere near other people. They can have their bubble. Ian’s grateful for that, and he knows Mickey is, too.
They find their perfect spot in the sun a few yards away from a cluster of trees and spread out the ratty little throw blanket they pulled out of their closet before heading out. They settle down, and Ian laughs at the way Mickey grunts like an old man as he gets comfortable on the ground.
Ian sits with his legs crossed and pulls his backpack into his lap.
“Is it weird that I kinda want to take my shoes off?” he asks.
“Huh. I dunno. I guess not,” Mickey replies with a shrug.
That’s good enough for him. He takes his sneakers off and sets them aside in the grass.
He knows Mickey’s after the potato chips, so he hands him one of the small bags he packed. Ian holds off on enjoying the food for now and cracks open a can of seltzer.
They sit in comfortable silence, Mickey munching away. The bright and constant noise of other people around them isn’t bothering him, but Ian finds himself looking for the silence in between all the sounds. All the quiet that’s in there. Some meditation technique he learned about in one of those yoga classes he checked out.
It’s hard to find, and so he gladly embraces the cheerful noise.
He brings his hands behind himself and braces them in the grass, leaning back and propping himself up. He lets his fingers sink lightly into the dirt, he lets it get under his nails.
He instinctively closes his eyes, face finding the sun and basking in it. It smells so good. Grass and dirt and sunlight. The way the air always smells different when the world is newly golden and warm.
He lets his idle thoughts carry on aimlessly for a while, sunlight blanketing him and shaking loose some of that residual wintry melancholy, feeling bits of it falling away. Glorious contentment. He has to savor it, has to savor everything around him.
So he opens his eyes. Because he wants to savor the sight of his husband in the sun.
He’s set aside his empty chip bag. His eyes are closed and his face is relaxed as it rests in his hand, elbow propped on his knee. Ian loves that face, those plush lips at rest in a perpetual pout, dark eyelashes casting little shadows on his cheeks. He likes seeing the brown tones in his hair in this light. He likes how his soft cheek is squished against his hand.
Ian’s heart clenches as he drinks it all in.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
“Hmm?” Mickey replies, opening his eyes.
And Ian’s not sure what he wants to say. He wants to connect with him.
He wants to share something with him.
So he says:
“C’mere, I made a caprese salad.”
Mickey scrunches his face up.
“Salad?” He’s rightfully skeptical.
“It’s like fifty percent cheese,” Ian tells him. “Come try it.”
He’s being sweet. He knows he’s giving Mickey that little smile he likes. Besides, it’s something he made. Of course Mickey is going to try it for him.
Mickey looks at him for a moment, and then he moves in. He faces Ian and gets his feet on either side of him, his knees bent and resting against Ian’s ribs in a sort of straddle. Ian uncrosses his legs and spreads them wider on either side of Mickey.
And this feels even more perfect, their closeness and contact. The sun is warm. Mickey is warm. Facing each other like this, their hearts reaching out to each other. Everything feels so easy and beautiful.
Ian reaches for the backpack and pulls out a small plastic container and a fork. He pulls the lid off, and the smell of the basil makes him mmm in delight.
The ingredients are from the big chain grocery store, so he doesn’t think he made anything special. But it’ll be delicious.
And he’ll get to grow some of his own ingredients later in the season. Something he’s looking forward to and has been yearning for.
He takes the first bite and mmms again. He loves this. It’s something so simple and so satisfyingly luscious. Big, leafy strips of basil. A little balsamic. Cherry tomatoes cut in half and still bursting as he chews. Enough soft little balls of fresh mozzarella to entice Mickey to try some. He gathers some on the fork for him, making sure it’s a perfect bite with all the components, and he holds it out for him to take.
Instead of taking the fork, Mickey leans in and parts his lips. Heart fluttering and staring at him in wonder, Ian feeds it to him and watches those lips close around the fork before sliding back.
He chews thoughtfully, then looks to Ian’s face. After a moment, he nods in approval.
“Yeah, it’s good,” he says, still chewing.
Ian smiles proudly. “I’m glad,” he says.
They share time and food and warmth and light together. They share breath. They get close and make everything fall away around them. They finish their snacks. They take their fill of staring at each other in the sun. They chat softly about nothing. They kiss once, a gentle and lingering press. They go slow. It feels so easy.
They sit until the sun is dipping behind the trees, casting lacy light over Mickey’s face and dropping the temperature enough to give them goosebumps. And then they pack up and start walking, fingers loosely woven together, quiet and sweet. They savor each step in the grass before reaching the sidewalk, squinting against the sun as they walk back to their home.
Full of light, warmth reaching down into their very souls, connected as ever.