I don’t understand people who think Debs would abandon her kid. Like…did we watch the same show?
The girl who pounded on the glass of Celia’s window, alternating between screaming at them to give her child back and calling out, “Franny, baby, Mommy loves you, Mommy’s coming”?
The girl who slept outside their house for ages until she got custody back?
The girl who swapped a random foster kid with Franny because she’d rather-quote- “die than let that bitch (pepa) have one second alone with Franny”.
The woman who tucked her daughter into bed and made sure she was clean and fed and had a roof over her head and a bed? Yes I know that’s bare minimum but again, Southside.
The woman who risked losing-who did lose- a very good client so she could get snacks for her daughter’s school?
The woman who spent an entire day searching for her daughter and yelled at Frank that she cared about her kid, unlike him.
Fine she was too much with the princess and little miss Southside thing. But I think she must’ve realised somewhere along the way and she devoted an entire day to spoiling Franny, taking her out to see her favourite wrestler and just spending time with her.
The girl who worked tooth and nail to become a welder for a better future for Franny and felt so bad that she was missing her first steps?
Y’all really think that Debbie’s gonna abandon her? For Ian and Mickey to raise especially?
Mickey might like Franny, but he wouldn’t want to raise her. He likes that he can give her back at the end of the day, honestly. Ian too. If Ian wants kids, he wants his own with Mickey. Not his niece, who he knows has a mother who loves her.
Debbie’s not the most amazing mother in the world. But Franny was five years old when the show ended and Debbie was beginning to show signs of improvement. She was a teen mother. She chose it, and that was on her, but she’s learning. And she has time. And she fucking loves Franny. She might go out for a few hours at a time but she’s always back in time to collect Franny from school or put her to bed or wake her up in the morning.
No matter what, she would never. Ever. Ever. Abandon her child.
I know when we meet Mickey we’re supposed to think of him as an asshole and I honestly did at first, but now I rewatch and I’m like….honestly I don’t. Okay yeah I mean he is a bit of a bully, we see that later, he is an asshole, but if anything, his introduction shows us that he isn’t. His first action is trying to kill someone because he thought that his sister was hurt by him. Then he beats that person’s brother up for making a comment about his sister. All I’m saying is….Mickey’s first introduction is him being a protective big brother…
"What you and I have makes me free" goes so fucking hard because it encompasses a character's Whole Fucking Deal. you know?? because that's at the core of Mickey's whole story. it's the root of so many of his motivations and his wants and his insecurities over the course of eleven seasons and it's all in one line! Why is Mickey doing a thing? Because ian makes him free and nothing else has in his whole entire life. It's such a perfect line for him.
headcanon time! i feel its probably a pretty popular one but like mickey being into 2000s-2010s “emo” bands. as well as like nu metal and like dad rock, and whatever genre metallica and avenged sevenfold is. also ive seen frequently on playlists, eminem which i think is also pretty accurate
Ian growing his first tomatoes and being proud of himself really excited to share them with Mickey and cooking with them everyday. But what he doesn't know is that tomatoes don't agree with Mickey. They upset his stomach and make him feel sick. He loves seeing Ian so happy and proud of himself so he doesn't tell him and eats everything he makes him. Ian eventually realizes what's going on. A prompt if you'd like to write it
Content Warnings: food, vomit
The first time it happened, Mickey assumed it was a coincidence.
Ian had been so fucking excited for his first tomato crop; he'd spent ages looking up recipes, running ideas past anyone who would listen, and scrounging through old boxed from the house to look for weird cooking shit. He had beamed when the day of his first harvest finally came, carrying those little red fruits in his big hands so carefully that you'd be forgiven for thinking them infants, or puppies, or some other fragile living thing.
So after an hour of Ian washing, slicing, and cooking up his new pride and joy, there was no way in he'll Mickey was going to ruin his husband's happy smile by telling him that just the smell of dinner was making his stomach churn.
It was probably nothing, he told himself, choking down bite after bite, letting out agreeable little hums after each one just to add to the sparkle in Ian's eyes.
Maybe lunch wasn't sitting well; he should have known not to eat anything offered by the Alibi, even under new management (especially under new management). That had to be it. There was no way it had anything to do with the dish Ian had painstakingly made from ingredients so fresh they had still been on the vine just hours before.
So Mickey swallowed his bile with the last bite on his plate, asked for seconds, and ate that too. Then he made his excuses, ran down to the little restroom off the gym, and threw it all up where Ian wouldn't have to see. He ignored the visible seeds and flecks of red tomato skin as he flushed the evidence away.
Just a coincidence, that was all. Next time would go better.
The second time it happened, Mickey thought that maybe Ian was just a bad cook. Ian's courage had been bolstered by his "successful" first attempt, apparently, because this time he went all out. He'd even traded one of his precious tomatoes for some fresh herbs from the plot next to his in the community garden, just to make it special.
And special it was. A special he'll, more like, when Mickey nearly voided his bowels an hour later on their new sofa. He leapt up and made it to the bathroom just in time, and spent the next thirty minutes trying to quietly take care of things so Ian wouldn't hear.
Of course, Ian did hear, and he just had to ask about it. They were getting ready for bed, Mickey tugging on a too-large sleep shirt from a pile of Ian's laundry, when a hand landed lightly on his waist.
"Feeling better?" Ian asked softly, rubbing soothing circles into the stretched skin of Mickey's sore belly.
"Uh, yeah," Mickey hedged, not wanting to reveal his lingering discomfort. "It's nothing, really."
"You sure?" Ian asked, pressing closer against his back as his hand migrated to rest over Mickey's chest. "You can tell me if something made you sick, you know," he said. "I won't take it personally."
If he wasn't used to Ian hitting close to home while having absolutely no knowledge of what he was talking about, Mickey might have wondered then if his husband was catching on.
But it was an innocent enough question, after all.
"Nah, man," he said, pulling away to sit on the bed. "Probably picked up a bug on our rounds or something."
Ian looked unconvinced, biting his lip, and Mickey rushed to reassure him.
"I'm be right as rain tomorrow," he promised. "Just you watch."
Ian hesitated, but ultimately nodded, and joined him in bed. He curled just a little tighter around Mickey than normal, hand resting carefully on his stomach.
It wasn't a lie, Mickey figured as he waited for sleep to claim him. He would be fine by morning. And next time, he'd do the cooking himself, just in case, and then this couldn't happen again.
By the third time, just the next morning, Mickey finally had to admit what he dreaded all along: it really was the goddamned tomatoes.
He’d made the omelets himself, using normal ingredients they got from the store, all things he had eaten before. He’d mixed in some diced tomato, just for flavor, and because he knew Ian would like it.
And like it Ian did. His husband was chowing down like someone might take away his plate if he didn’t eat fast enough, barely stopping to sip at his coffee, while Mickey sat silently across from him.
The first bite of his eggs had already almost done him in, the taste of the tomato now forever associated with stomach cramps and bile and bloating. He knew there was no way for it to be effecting him already, but his stomach clenched when he tried to lift another bite to his lips, and he set down his fork with a clatter.
Ian stopped eating.
“Everything okay, Mickey?” he asked, concerned. “You’ve barely touched your breakfast.”
“What are you lookin’ at my breakfast for?” Mickey deflected. “Eyes on your own fuckin’ plate, you’ve got yours.”
Ian obediently ducked his head, but still managed to catch Mickey poking a chunk of tomato away from everything else on his plate.
“You don’t like the tomato?” he asked, ignoring Mickey’s exasperated sigh at his interference. “I think they really add something.”
“Love them,” Mickey answered with a forced, toothy smile. “Just saving the best for last.” He stabbed at the tomato with his fork, spearing it, and lifted it to his lips to make a point.
“Yum,” he said around it as he chewed and forced himself to swallow. “See? Delic--”
Then he was up, away from the table, and running to the kitchen sink as it came right back up.
“Mickey, what the fuck?” Ian yelled, his chair sliding back with a screech as he hurried to join Mickey at the counter.
“Sorry,” Mickey managed, head still down, as Ian rubbed his back. “Think something’s wrong with me; didn’t mean to waste it.”
Ian’s hand stilled.
“Waste it?” he asked. “Mickey, what are talking about?”
“The tomatoes, Ian,” Mickey sighed. “I know you’re fuckin’ proud of ‘em or whatever, but I just can’t keep ‘em down.”
“Can’t keep them...” Ian started, then stopped. His hand fell away, only to reappear on the back of Mickey’s neck, forcing his to lift his head and look at him.
“Mickey,” Ian said firmly. “How long has this been going on?”
Mickey didn’t answer. Ian shook him, just lightly, then winced when it set him retching again into the stainless steel sink.
“How long have my tomatoes been making you sick, Mickey?” he asked again, quieter, and Mickey finally gave in.
“Few days,” he muttered, and Ian let go of him completely.
“A few--Mickey, it’s only been a few days. And I’ve been putting them in everything.”
Ian sounded worried, almost distraught, and that was exactly what Mickey had been trying to avoid.
“No, it’s fine,” he insisted, pushing away from the sink. He forced himself to swallow past the burning bile in his throat. “I’m not some fuckin’ pussy-ass kid, Gallagher, I know how to work through a fuckin’ stomach ache.”
If anything, that only made Ian look more concerned.
“I know you do, Mick,” he said. “But why the hell did you think you had to? Terry’s gone, we’re doing good; you know you don’t need to do shit like that anymore.”
Oh.
“You’re not upset?” Mickey asked, just to clarify, and Ian rubbed a hand over his face.
“Of course I’m upset, Mickey,” he sighed. “You lied to me for days because what, you didn’t want to look weak?”
“No,” Mickey said. “Cause I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
Ian took a deep breath.
“Mickey,” he said slowly. “I promise my feelings aren’t hurt just because you can’t stomach tomatoes. It really wouldn’t have been a big deal.”
Mickey shrugged. “I should be able to, though,” he said. “Ketchup, soup, fucking pasta--I eat all that no problem, and we just had extra sauce on our pizza last week. It’s just...”
He hesitated to say it out loud.
“Just my tomatoes,” Ian finished for him. ‘Right.”
Ian took a step forward, and took Mickey’s hand. He guided him back over to the table, sat him down--moving his plate away so he didn’t have to look at it--and joined him there.
“Mickey,” he started. “Maybe it’s not just that.” Mickey bit his lip, figuring that Ian cared more than he let on if he wanted to find some other excuse, but what his husband said next surprised him.
“I mean,” Ian continued, “it’s not like either of us had a lot of fresh ingredients around growing up.”
Well, he was right about that.
“And really fresh stuff, not processed, none of the preservative shit we’ve been eating our whole lives...well, it’s not your fault that your system doesn’t know what to do with it.”
“Still wish I could eat it,” Mickey grumbled, feeling a little better in spite of himself. “It makes you so happy, man, and I had to go and ruin it.”
Ian laughed.
“You didn’t ruin anything, you idiot,” he said fondly. “But next time I want to try something new, maybe we’ll take it a little slower, yeah?”
Mickey nodded.
“And maybe,” Ian added, “You’ll tell me there’s a problem before you puke all over our dishes.”
Mickey looked over to the sink, where sure enough, the majority of their dishes were piles and waiting to be washed, now needing it more than ever.
Oops.
“At least they were already dirty?” he said, and Ian smiled.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “At least there’s that.”
He leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to Mickey’s head. Then he grabbed up Mickey’s unfinished breakfast and a fork.
“Really, Gallagher?” Mickey asked. “You still wanna eat after that?”
“Why not?” Ian answered, mouth already full. “Besides, if you don’t like it,” he added, a stray piece of egg clinging to the side of his mouth, “then all the more for me.”
It was Mickey’s turn to grin, even as he watched the gruesome show that was Ian trying to eat.
Tomatoes or not, table manners or not, he really loved that man.
You know what. The coming out scene on the car is actually heartbreaking. “Guess what weve been doing, Daddy?”
He calls his father daddy. Like a child. And it’s sarcastic, it’s so sarcastic, it’s not like when he got caught with Ian and begged and calling him “Dad, dad, dad!” Although that also breaks my heart. It’s not like when he calls him “Pop”, which is a little more detached.
He sarcastically calls him “daddy”. It’s such a childlike thing to call him, like a scared little boy, and he uses it with such heavy sarcasm and I don’t know how to explain it but it physically makes me want to cry.
Also the “dad-dad-dad!” When he gets caught with Ian also broke me. He sounded like a teenager begging his father to be reasonable. Because he was. But “unreasonable” meant not committing murder, not getting grounded.
Hey Mel! Do you feel like talking about brothers-in-law with me? I always feel like Mickey and Lip share something, an affinity for each other, an understanding of each other, you know? And maybe they're not best friends yet by the time the show ends but they are family now and that means a lot to both of them. So maybe (if you're into it) you could tell me about some ways that Mickey and Lip have shown each other friendship in the last year 😌 maybe it's not unhinged energy but it's what I'm thinking about right now 😊💛
hi howl! this is only one of my favorite things to talk about! and i can easily get unhinged about pretty much anything. let's do it!
i like to think they find some show to watch together. something that doesn’t interest tami or ian, but that they can bond over together. maybe something about space or true crime or! maybe even some crappy reality show they start watching as a joke and then get hooked. they argue over characters and storylines, send each other theories/memes/unhinged reddit threads, and put any irritation with each other on hold to watch together weekly 😇 ian and tami don’t get it at all but they’re just glad to see them bonding
they do kind little things for each other! lip is coming over, so he stops and gets a donut for ian. then on second thought - better get one for mickey, too. or mickey is heading to meet ian at the gallagher house for family dinner and he grabs some beers for everyone. on his way to check out he adds some sodas to his basket. orange for the kids, diet cola for lip. eventually they know the little things they like and it’s second nature to randomly get (read: steal, for old times sake) each other snacks or lighters or a pack of gum. they never mention it, just hand the goods off with shared nods and a pat on the pack.
lip helps mickey out with some business stuff for gallagher-milkovich security. gets them set up with budgeting softwares (maybe it’s pirated but who’s to say) and helps them sort through the paperwork. the nitty gritty finance stuff generally falls to mickey, who winds up texting lip for help sometimes. it’s embarrassing at first, but mickey is sharp and lip just gives him pointers. mickey pays him back by offering ian to babysit.
mickey is sometimes the first person lip will call when he feels like he might slip up. ian and tami will do what needs to be done of course, but he doesn’t want to scare them when sometimes he just needs a ride to a meeting. mickey picks him up without a word - other than “you good?” and an “alright then” when he drops lip off. lip appreciates it, he just wants to focus on getting through the day sometimes. he knows mickey will tell ian later and that’s okay. ian will get it. and he’ll have to tell tami too. but in the moment, mickey can give what lip needs.
in short, they show up for each other! sometimes out of love for ian, but they respect and like each other too! they end up with their own distinct relationship and i think that rules.
I like thinking about Mickey sleeping holding Ian's arm or griping to his shoulder, or to Ian holding Mickeythight, so thight. We see them like that in season 4, in season 7, in season 11. It's something they often do. It's that fondness naturally coming when it's just of them sharing a bed or any space, when they go to sleep together.
If we're talking canon, remember when Mickey punched that old creepy guy for Ian? When he picked him up and got him home safe? When he accompanied Ian to a gay club everyday and basically acted as his bodyguard while he was scared and in the closet? “He's not a fuckin' lab rat”? Fighting off the MPs and going after Sammi for Ian? Rolling on a cartel and getting himself thrown in prison for him 😭 Being scared of his dad and still going to him because he has to help Ian 😭 Instinctively shielding Ian's body with his own when they're being shot at 🥺 He just. Cares so goddamn much 😭 He's willing to do everything he can to protect the man he loves 😭
And here's some of headcanons about protective mickey 🥺
Whenever he goes to pick up Ian's meds he stands there like 🤨 and double checks everything
Before Ian got to prison, Mickey made some sort of deal with the inmates who could give Ian trouble and made sure nobody would lay a hand on the Gay Jesus guy
Went 🤨😠 at every person who tried to make a joke of Ian in prison
His instinctively holds his arm out against Ian's chest when he's to stop abruptly while driving 🥺
Wraps a possessive paw on Ian's bicep and goes 🤨 when someone's been acting way too friendly with Ian
Is very protective of Ian's garden space 😤 “Lady, I don't fuckin' care how ancient you are, you can't shove my husband's pots to make place for your own 😤😠”
His instinctively holds his arm out against Ian's chest when he's to stop abruptly while driving 🥺 -> but imagine his tine (but strong) hand on Ian's large chest!!! Ian would get butterflies every time it happens. Ian would definitely put his own hand on top of Mickey's and bring it to his lips and give Mickey's fingers a kiss.
