You’d barely stepped foot into the Gallagher house when a beer was shoved into your hand and a loud cheer erupted from the living room. Carl grinned, tugging you inside. “Told you they’d love you,” he muttered, leaning in for a kiss before Debbie snatched you away, already demanding details about how you two met.

The house was chaotic in the way only the Gallaghers could manage—Lip was arguing about politics with Ian, while Fiona tried to keep the peace and cook at the same time. Liam offered you a high five like you were already part of the crew, and Frank… well, Frank passed out before he could cause trouble, which was apparently the best-case scenario.

You didn’t have a perfect family growing up—maybe not much of one at all—but here, among the yelling and laughter, you felt oddly at home. Carl kept glancing at you with this smug little smile, proud and a little surprised at how quickly you fit in.

That night turned into a backyard party with too many drinks, too much music, and way too much dancing. Fiona pulled you into a toast, shouting, “To family—real or found!” Everyone raised their drinks, and you couldn’t help but raise yours too.

For once, you weren’t the outsider. You were just in. One of them. A Gallagher by chaos, not by blood.