tell me more about this bow tie / make out session after the wedding 😼
Exhibit A: They're walking down the aisle holding hands all happy and smiley w their lil bow ties on 😌
Exhibit B: They're wearing their lil bow ties even on the dance floor, and Mickey's smiling at his husband's dorky dance moves 😌
But here we have Exhibit C, where they're leaving the hall and Ian's bowtie is undone whereas Mickey's is perfect 😯
The only conclusion is,
Mickey smiling as he looks at the love of his life showing off his dumbass moves to him......Mickey getting the look in his eyes because fuck, this dumbass is his husband and is gonna make him smile forever now..... Mickey grabbing Ian's hand pulling him into an empty corridor.....Smiley kisses...“Fuck, we're fucking married” kisses....Mickey undoing Ian's bowtie to wrap a gentle hand behind Ian's neck and pulling him closer.....Ian moving to undo Mickey's bowtie and Mickey slapping his hand away because, “Aye, gotta get our pictures taken man, don't mess up my fuckin' bowtie 😾.....my husband tied it for me ☺️”.....Ian immediately pulling Mickey in for a kiss because “Fuck, Mick, call me your husband again 🥵”
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shhh, it’s okay your mind is just playing tricks on you :))
caitlin 🖤 this became more intense than originally intended so i'm adding a cut. it's ultimately soft husbands, but it has some overwhelming aspects.
tw: covid mention, death mention, anxiety
fever. cough. body aches. headache. sore throat. runny nose.
he scrolls down the list, mentally checking off most of the symptoms and becomes overwhelmed, tears welling in his eyes. his whole body is hot despite the medicine, his back sweaty where it's pressed against the mattress, and he coughs every time he tries to move. the cool washcloth mickey brought him lays abandoned on top of the comforter he kicked off, surely leaving a damp spot, and he contemplates taking his shirt off, too, but he knows the chills are coming any minute.
ian hears mickey walking down the hallway and locks his phone, grasping it in his hand and turning on his side, facing the window. he reaches under his pillow and pulls out the crumpled up, half-used tissue that he shoved under there earlier, and tries to blow his runny but stuffed up nose.
"hey," mickey says, gently, crossing the threshold. "made you some soup. thought it might help with your throat," he adds, sitting on the edge of the bed. mickey's smile fades when he gets a good look at him.
"what's wrong?" mickey asks, putting the steaming bowl onto the nightstand and crawling into bed next to him, wrapping his arms around ian's tired body. it's too hot, but ian craves the feeling of his husband's body against his own.
"i’m gonna die," he declares, smushing his face into the pillow, muffling his voice.
"what's that, mumbles?"
"m'gonna die," ian repeats, rotating so he can look up, mickey's concerned eyes making him more upset. "i have covid."
"you don't have covid," mickey tells him, running his fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing it off of his forehead. "you got a bad cold, man."
"have all the symptoms... m'gonna die," he repeats, tears welling up again and spilling down his face. he feels stupid and dramatic, but he can't shake the thought. his breath hitches as he sobs, chest constricting and tears flowing. he's going to die and he'll probably give it to mickey, and he'll die too since he smokes like a fucking chimney, and it'll be all his fault, and—
"shh, it's okay," mickey hushes him, interrupting his fevered spiral. "your mind is just playing tricks on you, okay? you're not gonna die."
ian can feel mickey shifting around him, taking his phone from his grasp and setting it on his own bedside table, out of ian's reach, before curling up next to him again.
he closes his eyes, the steady rhythm of mickey's hand rubbing up and down his side soothing his fears. his breathing evens out and his eyelids become heavier and heavier as he nuzzles into mickey's neck.
"not gonna die," mickey whispers into his hair. "won't let you."
caitlin! 💖💖 thank you for the ask -- & sorry for the late response!
🧑🏻🦰 - ian is tall and likes to manhandle headcanon & 😠 - jealous headcanon (por qué no los dos?)
now that ian and mickey have a pool easily accessible in their apartment complex and ian still has his athletic streak, they've been spending more time in the water -- both during the day and after hours.
one summer night, they floated around in the pool, water still slightly warm from the beating sun earlier in the day. mickey made his way to the edge and sipped on their shared orange soda -- ian had recently changed his meds dosage and everything seemed fine, but they hadn't wanted to risk anything with excessive alcohol just yet.
ian interrupted their soft silence with a humorless chuckle.
"fuckin' frank."
mickey was quiet, unsure of what direction ian was heading with the slip of his father's name.
"fuckhead threw me into the water when i was little -- like seven, maybe? couldn't swim at all, nearly inhaled all the damn water," he laughed again. "fiona pulled me out. she was so pissed, threw the ice box at frank, wouldn't talk to him for a week."
"piece of shit." mickey's heart twisted for a young betrayed ian.
a pause, a beat.
"when did you learn to swim?"
mickey hesitated, "uh, not 'til mexico." they'd talked the subject down to dirt, but it still hurt to reopen the wound sometimes.
"oh."
"yeah, some guy i was working with invited me out with his family. wasn't gonna turn down free drinks," mickey remembered the days, drinking, drinking, drinking. he's surprised he remembers anything else from the beginning there. ian didn't need to know that, though.
despite the somber tone, ian saw red. he knew the consequences of his actions years ago, and he hadn't expected mickey to forgive him, let alone wait for him forever -- separated by an entire border with an entirely shattered heart.
but the idea that some guy was there for mickey when he wasn't, couldn't. some guy that mickey had trusted. some guy taking care of his man, his husband. and it wasn't him.
well, he could take care of him now, that's for damn sure.
ian swam over to the ledge that mickey was leaning against, still holding their soda. he pressed closer until their legs slotted together under the water.
"mmm, i could teach you so much better," he whispered close to mickey's ear, lips brushing it with the words.
mickey's breath hitched and the drink slipped out of his hands -- entirely forgotten by the two.
ian hiked up mickey's thigh around his hip, hand slipping under his shorts.
WILLA!! acting thoughts on episode 4.08, the scene where mickey is woken up and asked “are you guys together or did you meet last night?”
the reason that scene is so believable to me is that little shrug and head shake noel does before saying “together.” it’s honestly how i react to hard questions or when i’ve disassociated or felt unable to express my emotions.
it’s probably stupid but to me, it really is those little things noel does that make his acting so palpable and believable. like we know he’s fucking amazing in big moments to, but those little twitches and movements make it so real. he never seems like he’s acting, it always looks very natural and in tune.
CAITLIN! ❤️
yes to all this!! that little shrug/head movement is a great example of the little things that noel invests energy into that really sell his performance. it’s not like noel sat down and planned to have that particular reaction to the question, just that in that moment the question was a difficult one for mickey — it was heavy and weighted and not to mention he’s just woken up, so naturally he responds in that way.
everything i’ve read that noel has said about his preparation for mickey’s storyline really reflects in his work on screen. noel always talked about working w a secret and in that moment it really feels like it’s the first time he’s said those words out loud, like he said them not only to answer the question, but for himself also.
sorry for a later response but thanks for bringing this to me bc i would happily discuss this all day long ❤️
HII! i’m looking for a fic and would love some help?
it’s where ian’s getting some manic symptoms after frank’s death and mickey tries to talk about it with him (i think it takes place in the gallagher kitchen) and then ian admits that it’s something about having mania symptoms after someone dies? that’s all i can really remember. i forgot what he called the syndrome.
Hi :) I saw that you've already found it, but now I wanna know, did you mean father frank, full of grace? Ian called it 'funeral mania' there.
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mickey and tami talking shit about the gallagher’s over a joint or something hehehe
this got off the of the rails... fast; i hope you like it anyway LMAO, i am so sorry for my offhandedness and the length (or lack thereof) of this fill, but it's been a while since i've written and i wanted to keep this short and sweet :D
"no, no, no," mickey scolds, shaking his head while watching the smoke fills the space between him and tami, "ian is fuckin' crazy."
tami waves her hand through the air. she takes the joint from mickey's hand with a furrow of her eyebrows. "isn't he, like... bipolar or whatever?" before tami has the chance to remove the joint from her lips, mickey plucks it from her fingertips.
"yeah, but," mickey burps, readjusting the joint and letting it settle in between his pointer and middle fingers, "he's still batshit even when he ain't manic."
"give me an example," tami asks, eyeing mickey as he takes a long inhale.
mickey twists on his side, his arm settling on the top of he and ian's new couch. he tilts his head back, letting the smoke filter up towards the ceiling. after a moment, he returns his attention towards tami. "just the other week, he sent me a text tellin' me we hang out too much; he's just so jealous all of the goddamn time."
"oh, and you're not?" this time, tami is the one stealing the joint from mickey. "you practically shit yourself when you saw ian with," tami swallows, trying to think of his name, " that simone biles motherfucker at the bar," she eventually settles on.
"his name was cole—"
"see!" tami exclaims, throwing her hand not holding the joint in the air, "you wouldn't remember his name if you weren't jealous, his picture is next to the word 'fruit' in the dictionary, every white gay dude looks like him."
mickey chhs, "you texted me from the bathroom of a chilli's in wisconsin because you thought your server was hot."
"she was," tami defends, her voice high-pitched, "and i needed time to recuperate away from lip."
"yeah, your boyfriend lip, and how exactly did you do that?" mickey questions suggestively, his eyebrows waggling up and down.
tami punches him, hard, her fist definitely leaving a bruise that will be visible for the days to come, "i only thought about it!"
mickey chuckles, "because that's any better!" tami holds up a middle finger and directs it towards mickey, a gesture which he gladly reciprocates.
the fact that you write EVERYDAY blows my mind. and the fact that is always something with grit, heart and soul and humor??? could never be me. your work inspires me all the time and can’t wait to see what you have in store for the rest of your days in this fandom. 💛🧡💛🧡💛
Caitlin😭😭💖💖
Thank you so much friend. And you know I love your work too, right? Because I do! To be honest I never expected to keep the daily thing up this long, but I'm still having fun and seeing people react is so rewarding (I'm a sucker for external validation lol, thank you for feeding me). And my last obsessive hobby was crochet and I'm only slowing down after like 4 years, so I hope to be around a while!
