i wish that you would write a fic where mickey meets aunt oopie 😈
"the fuck is the old lady with the headband makin' eggs?" mickey flops onto the gallagher couch next to tami, propping his feet up on their coffee table and crossing his ankles subsequently. he takes a sip out of ian's favourite rooster mug and lets out a satisfactory noise at the coffee lip brewed for the house before leaving for work. mickey raises an eyebrow at tami to prompt her in answering his question.
tami sighs, resting her elbow on the top of the couch and setting her head in her palm, "my aunt oopie."
in a failed attempt to hold back a chuckle, mickey chokes on his drink. he sets the mug down on the floor next to him, and clears his throat. "no fuckin' way you just said that bitch's name is oopie."
at the mention of her name, tami's aunt saunters into the room carrying a baking sheet of chocolate chip cookies. "shit," mickey stands up and eagerly makes his way towards her. he snatches a freshly baked treat, "you bake, too? you should hang around here more often, debs doesn't know what the fuck she's doin'."
mickey's wedding band catches the light, and catches aunt oopie's attention as a result. "who's the lucky lady?" she asks, tami's eyes widening. fuck, she thinks, making a gesture towards mickey to refrain him from honestly replying to her, but he ignores her with a raise of his middle finger, an eye roll following.
"uh, man," mickey corrects with a cough, "that ginger fuck," he nods towards the stairs where ian is upstairs showering, "is my husband."
aunt oopie scoffs, "there's a special place in hell for people like you," she snatches the half-eaten cookie out of mickey's mouth and tosses the remaining bits into the trashcan.
tami lifts her eyes up from where she buried her head in her lap. "so, she's not... fond of gay people," she fake smiles, and mickey chortles in response.
"no shit, tam."
