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#but terry calling them out for bickering like an old married couple...
clownprince · 1 year
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Well. Batman: Beyond the White Knight #8 was definitely something
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evilelena · 2 months
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I'm so weird, I fill out three-year-old Cobra Kai surveys on tumblr.
Karate Kid/Cobra Kai survey
---
It’s the year 2021 and you’re obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?
Well, it's now the year 2024 and...fine? I was never really "obsessed" with the Miyagi universe until October 2022 when I started going through all the episodes for my so-called "fan fixion". it's not really fanfic; intentionally bad recaps with fictionalized elements are just something my sister and I used to do ages ago for the lulz. We actually did them for Beverly Hills, 90210 and The Shield. The Cobra Kai ones are done by me; but my sister remains my one consistent reader. She's also the one who challenged me to incorporate the phrases "practice dumby" (yes, spelled that way), "Why is this happening to me?!", and "Ouch, ouch, oh, ouch!" (a line from one of my old childhood stories) into all of my recaps -- or whatever you want to call them. (In case anybody ever looks at those and thinks wtf?.) Despite not being "obsessed" until a year and a half ago, I still really liked CK and re-watched many episodes even before October 2022!
Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?
Kind of both? I was born...uh, long enough ago that I was alive when TKK was released, although I don't remember its release because I was a very young child. I did see parts of all three first movies here and there over the years growing up -- and I watched that masterpiece The Next Karate Kid in the late 90's or early 00's while going on a Walton Goggins movie binge -- but I never appreciated them until my ex-on-good-terms recommended Cobra Kai. (I'm pretty new to the "fandom" but have been watching CK since May 2018.)
We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:
Johnny, for sure. Second favorite is Terry Silver.
Favorite ship:
Johnny and Daniel when they're bickering and squabbling like an old married couple.
Underrated character:
Stiven. Too bad he left, or he and Hawk could've become pals. I like how Stiven bravely tried to start a fight with Tory during the LaRusso house brawl, and she punched him away like she was batting away a pesky fly.
Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):
Johnny and Ali? I (gasp) prefer them to Johnny and Carmen.
Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?
Sweep the leg!
Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?
Any where he incorporates the color blue. Bonus points if it includes his special blue-and-white karate headband.
Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:
Charlie -- that minion of Ned, or whatever the main bully's name was in TNKK. (Charlie, played by Walton Goggins, was Ned's Rickenberger.)
Scene that lives in your head rent-free:
Oh, there are so many. Way too many to name in a three-year-old survey.
Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?
Technically, he was one of the most relevant characters in 5x10. Without him, Kenny Payne might still be Terry Silver's prize pupil. (And Silver might not have been arrested. Stupid Anthony!)
You live in The Valley and are forced to join the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?
Eagle Fang, but I'm not leaping from one building to another. (Sensei Lawrence is more than welcome to call me pathetic, though.)
What’s your training montage song?
"Gonna Fly Now"?
It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?
Beverly Hills, 9010. Mel Silver can be Terry's cousin.
Tagging:
Nobody, because this is three years old.
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fellintotartarus · 5 years
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i think we partied too hard
on ao3!
i'm obsessed with one night stand amy gets pregnant fics rn (literally don't ask why... shut up) I'm also VERY MAD about the green book win (it was a category filler?! roma deserved it shut up) so you get this, i guess.
Jake sat with his head on the table groaning. He had spent 29 hours awake, running on 2 hours of sleep, and he could not crack this case. Amy sat next to him in the same fashion, in the same situation.
 After 29 hours of looking at the same case board, interrogating the same perps, and running the same routes, they were no closer to bringing down this mysterious drug lord. The clock ticked teasingly in the corner, reminding them of the time elapsing that they couldn’t solve the case.
 All of the sudden, Jake’s head snapped up.
 “Ames,” he whispered. “It’s the sister.”
 Amy’s head shot up. They stared at each other before smiles crept onto each of their faces. They solved it.
 —
 That night, the whole squad went to Shaw’s to celebrate. They were waist deep in shots, pints, and, in Holt’s case, Charbonay. It was a sloppy drunk kind of night.
 Four-drink Amy had come out to play. Terry tried to get another drink in her so that she would stop terribly winking at everything that walked, but the bartender had cut her off and was watching them with a hawk eye. They wanted to stay more than they wanted five-drink Amy, so they let her horniness run rampant.
 Jake was not a heavy drinker, but this case closing was a cause for celebration, so he was wasted. He didn’t have a tiered drunkenness scale like Amy did, but after six drinks he was strangely flirty as well.
 The rest of the crew was very weirded out by their gross and alcohol-fueled vibing, and they gravitated away from Jake and Amy into another corner.
 Soon enough, Jake and Amy were sitting huddled up at the bar, steadily drinking enough to keep them at the “horny-drunk” level.
 “Jake, you know something? You’re super hot. I totally would sleep with you, but I’m too much of a chicken to say that,” Amy slurred, poking his chest (surprisingly firm, she might add).
 “Whaaaatttt? You’re the sexiest ever. Every time you wear that red dress it makes me suffer because I just wanna lift up the skirt and fuck you in it,” he breathed in her ear.
 The conversation had taken a significant turn from playful flirting to very serious dirty talk, and it was reflected in their proximity to each other and their heavy breathing.
 Amy moaned under breath. She took a nibble of his earlobe and whispered lightly, already grabbing her purse, “Do you wanna go back to mine?”
 Jake stood up abruptly, nodding, wobbled a little bit, and grabbed her hand. They half-ran to the door, giggling the whole way.
 —
 The next morning, Jake rolled over to find the good lump on his mattress only to find a foreign bed and a warm barrier with its arms wrapped around him.
 Confused, Jake groggily opened his eyes to find a very naked Amy Santiago sleeping peacefully next to him.
 His eyes went wide and he gasped slightly, causing Amy to stir and open her eyes. As soon as she saw him, her reaction was about the same as his.
 After a few tense seconds of just looking at each other with surprise, they simultaneously sprang apart and let out yelps.
 Amy, realizing they were both naked, tugged the sheet over her body, leaving Jake’s (very nice, she had to say) body exposed. He gasped and grabbed the sheet and pulled it over himself, leaving Amy’s (extremely sexy, he thought) body exposed. It was a slight battle of tug-of-war before they gave up and starting mad-grabbing for their clothes on the floor. Amy found her underwear pretty close to the bed, but, holding her boobs in place with her hands, she found her bra in the hallway, and her pantsuit on the couch. Jake was luckier to find all his clothes in the bedroom.
 They met in Amy’s kitchen.
 “So we... uh...” Amy trailed off. She was visibly tense in the shoulders.
 “Seems like it,” Jake laughed awkwardly a bit, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
 A pause. Then, suddenly, laughter filled the apartment. They were belly-laughing, the good kind of laugh that left you aching. Tears welled in their eyes.
 “Was I any good?” Jake choked out through laughs.
 Amy stopped laughing and said seriously, “I don’t know. You were my first.”
 Jake stilled. “Wait, Ames, really?”
 A laugh forced its way out of Amy’s throat. “No! Oh my god, who do you take me for, a 30-year-old virgin?”
 “Jesus, you scared me!” Jake laughed.
 “Okay, well, I’m glad this isn’t weird and all, but I am majorly hungover and would like to take my day off,” Amy said.
 “No, yeah, got it. I was just on my way out.”
 They shared a genuine smile as Jake walked out the door.
 Amy lay in bed later that night and texted Jake.
 To: Jake Peralta
Isn’t it... weird that we aren’t weird?
 From: Jake Peralta
not rly tbh. the way i see it is we have a funny inside joke now. also i literally remember nothing.
 To: Jake Peralta
Yeah haha. Makes sense. Definitely don’t remember anything either.
 The thing was, she did. Or, well, she had evidence. She woke up with the mat in her hair that she only got when she had sex in her favorite position, she had the good ache between her legs of being well-fucked with a big dick, and her clitoris was really sensitive, meaning multiple orgasms. She didn’t entirely like the conclusion, but Jake must be really good at sex. Gross (Or was it? her brain said). She wondered why she couldn’t stop thinking about it, until she realized that it was weird now. She had made it weird by remembering.
 Or maybe it was the way he made her laugh like nobody else, or the soft curl of his hair flipped to the side, or his strong arms holding her as she slept away the morning.
 Amy blushed and shook the thought out of her head for the millionth time that year.
 At his apartment, Jake lay awake with memories flooding back. Jake had the rare gift of retaining memories slowly when he blacked out, and he had never been happier. Besides the obvious, Jake was mind blown that Amy freaking Santiago had given him the best sex of his life. She was such a nerd, it seemed impossible! Just remembering the night’s activities sent a shudder down his spine and warmth through his core.
 But it also begged the question: was it just the sex? Or was it also the halo of light around Amy’s face when she laughed, or the way her hair shone softly, or her adorable hate face reserved only for those who had invoked a pure form of hatred from a cinnamon roll of a human (looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you).
 Jake wondered for the millionth time that year why he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was his colleague for Christ’s sake, his frenemy within the precinct. They competed constantly and bickered more than an old married couple.
 Jake sighed, punched the good lump into shape, and fell asleep.
 —
 Jake and Amy’s work relationship hadn’t changed much at all, except now they seemed to have a lot more to laugh about. Every once in a while, they would be sniggers coming from their desks from a seemingly new inside joke.
 The main thing that changed, however, was the way they looked at each other. Their glances would linger while the other wasn’t looking, and there was something unidentifiable in their eyes. It was soft, and it was absolutely torturous. The rest of the squad had bets on the outcome of this newfound grossness.
 Jake’s deniable crush on Amy had spiraled into a full-blown infatuation. He thought about her constantly, texted her when he wasn’t with her, and even improved his life to please her. He cleaned every week, he sold his unnecessary stuff, and started chipping away at his debt. It was a goddamned miracle.
 Amy found herself thinking about Jake too much for it to be normal. She always suspected that she liked him as more than a friend but was always able to tamp it down and ignore it. Not anymore, she thought with a sigh. Now it was like everything he did was the cutest thing. His smiles always sent her into a soupy mess, and every time they touched by accident it was like electricity running up her spine.
 Then one day, a month after That Night, it became impossible to not think about him.
 She woke up that morning feeling nauseous for the second day in a row. She violently vomited a few times and then lay against the cool bathroom floor, the cogs turning in her brain.
 Idiot, she thought to herself.
 After nervously checking her period tracker and seeing that she was a week late, she immediately called Jake.
 “Hey, I was just about to call you to see if you could meet up for coffee before work. I wanna talk to you about something.” He sounded hopeful and groggy, like he had just woken up. But Amy was not concerned about that right now.
 “Peralta,” she whisper-yelled through the phone. “Did we not use a fucking condom?”
 She heard shuffling on the other end of the line. Then, Jake’s voice rang clear and awake. That obviously had gotten his attention.
 “Ames, what are you saying?” he said nervously.
 Amy pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly.
 “I can’t stop puking and I’m a week late,” she said softly. “Jake, I think I’m pregnant.”
 Silence.
 Then, after a beat, “Okay. Get dressed and meet me at the CVS on the corner by your apartment. Everything’s going to be okay.”
 Amy wiped away some stray tears and did as Jake instructed. She found him waiting at the entrance of the pharmacy. When they made eye contact, his eyes lightened, and a small smile crept onto his face. He held his hand out for her to take. It was corny, but Amy really appreciated it.
 They navigated through the store, finding the pregnancy tests, and Jake insisted on buying the most expensive one to put Amy’s mind at ease.
 They stepped into the bathroom together, receiving strange stares from the employees, and Jake turned to the corner while Amy peed on the fancy test (Why was she comfortable with him in there? God, she must really like him). Then she set a timer and they waited.
 Standing there in the bathroom waiting for the timer to go off, Amy turned to Jake and asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”
 Jake raised his eyebrows. “Oh, right. That.” He sighed. “Well, I guess now’s as good a time as any.” Awkward smile. Deep breath.
 Amy waited with bated breath for what she thought (and hoped) he would say.
 “So, after That Night, I, uh, realized that I like you. And I wanna be with you. Romantic stylez. Stylez with a z.”
 Amy was shocked. She knew she felt the same way, and that she wanted that, too, but their life might be about to get really complicated.
 A part of her brain told her that it would make things simpler if there was a baby, but another part thought of Jane the Virgin and how complicated Mateo’s life became with on-off parents.
 But heart and mouth seemed to be ahead of her brain because she found herself saying, “Me, too.”
 Jake smiled so genuinely it hurt Amy’s heart. She smiled back and, before she could think, pulled Jake in for a tender kiss.
 If Jake had to describe it, he would say it felt like taking a deep breath after too long under water. Kissing Amy was like coming home and smelling your pillow after being away. Kissing Amy was like heaven.
 If Amy had to describe it, she would say it was like pulling on a soft shirt straight out of the dryer. Kissing Jake was like a fresh, warm binder and a clean apartment.
 Then the timer went off.
 Amy pulled away and made eye contact with Jake. There was panic and worry in her eyes.
 “Deep breath,” Jake said reassuringly.
 Together, they looked down.
 Not Pregnant.
 Amy could almost cry with relief. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
 She looked up at Jake, who also looked pretty relieved. He caught her looking and tried explaining.
 “I would’ve been a good dad. Y’know, if that was the case. I would have stayed and cared, I’m not—”
 Amy cut him off. “Jake. I know. I don’t doubt it even for a second. But relief is fine. I am definitely not ready, and you probably aren’t either.”
 Jake smiled pulled her in for another kiss, only for Amy to stop him.
 He looked worried and said, “Oh, shit, did I mess something up?”
 Amy laughed. “No, you goof. It’s just that we are definitely not going going to make out in a CVS bathroom.”
 “Oh. Oh, okay good. Geez, I thought I fucked up for a second.”
 “No, Peralta. We’ll be fine.”
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130lb of Ukrainian Courage (pt 18) ‘Fuckin’ Milkovichs/Bachelor Party pt.1′
Ian wanted to go down to the court house and get married immediately. Mickey wanted to save up for a few months and try to have a proper do. They compromised and set themselves a target of four weeks. It isn’t long enough to save but it’s long enough to plan a party, get a couple of things together and let Mickey feel like he is doing right by them.
Due to the time scale it it’s going to be a ‘cost-effective’ wedding which is Ian’s delicate way of saying that what with the time he had off to recover, the new house and putting food on the table for Mandy, they are (as Mickey put it less delicately) ‘poor as fuck’.
With that in mind Ian lets go of the fleeting idea of matching suits, matching gold bands and a mini-tux for Yev. Despite Mickey being the one who insisted on having an actual wedding, predictably it is Ian who takes over the wedding planning. However, Mickey takes more interest than anyone, including himself, expected him to and offers opinions on most things including the rings Ian is looking at on his battered old laptop. Side by side on the sofa, Ian is half focussed on browsing and half concentrating on fingering the in-seam of Mickey’s pants, enjoying the small noises of appreciation each movement earns him.
They’re on an online Gothic themed jewellery store that sells silver bands when Ian turns the screen round and doubtfully shows it to Mickey, he is instantly taken with a medium width band called ‘Blood and Bone’.
“Fuckin’ sweet name, man.”
“It’s part of their … eternally enslaved collection.”
Ian wrinkles his nose but Mickey just grins and grips the back of Ian’s neck tightly, leaning in to kiss him hard.
“Kinky. I like it. Get two of those.”
“You sure? I mean I like the style but the name ...”
“It’s a kick-ass name. Better than ‘Happily ever after’ or some shit.”
Ian shrugs, happy that Mickey is happy and orders two rings for less than half the price of one traditional gold band.
“You sure you don’t mind it being silver? If you want gold ...”
Mickey rubs the back of Ian’s neck lightly, his brows knitted
“Nah. Silver’s good. Gold doesn’t really suit your whole ‘Ice King’ look.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know: black hair, pale skin, blue eyes, black clothes...”
Ian breaks off realising that he is getting The Annoyed Tongue as Mickey’s eyebrows raise and a bulge forms in his left cheek.
“It’s sexy, Mick.”
“Sounds fuckin’ weird. I got different colour clothes.”
“Yes you do.”
Ian agrees. He knows from experience that agreeing is the way to end this discussion swiftly and that a swift resolution is for the best. Mickey lights a smoke and eyes him suspiciously but lets it drop as Mandy wanders in, yawning.
“What’s up?”
“Ordering rings.”
Ian grins and sits back to let Mandy have a look at them on screen as she leans over the back of the sofa.
“Sweet name!”
She exclaims happily and Mickey gives Ian a smug look which earns him a cheerful middle finger.
“Oh hey, I gotta ask you something”
Mickey says, craning his neck to look up at his sister who is eyeing his cigarette wistfully
“Yeah? What?”
“Don’t sound so fuckin’ suspicious.”
Mickey scowls and Mandy rolls her eyes, walking round and dropping herself dramatically into his lap and breathing in the heady smell of tobacco.
“What the f...”
Mickey leans back in his seat, scowl deepening as Mandy grins up at him and flicks his chin.
“Can’t shove me, I’m pregnant.”
“Wanna fuckin’ bet? Move your ass!”
Mandy stands up and ruffles her big brothers hair affectionately
“Okay dicksplash, what did you want to ask?”
“No forget it.”
Mickey grouches, smoothing his hair back down but Ian gives him a swift kick and opens his eyes wide, prompting him.
“What?”
Mandy’s interest is piqued and she glances between the two of them impatiently
“I was gonna ask if you … if you wanna be my best man.”
Mickey looks up from under shyly lowered brows and Mandy’s face softens into a sweet little smile
“Really? You’d really pick me?”
“Well apparently I can’t pick Ian,”
Mickey shrugs, shooting his fiancé a slightly dirty look, still not over Ian’s rebuff of that particular request.  
“So yeah. I guess I pick you.”
“Awww Mickey...”
Mandy wraps her arms tightly around him from behind and Mickey suffers the squeeze as well as he can, awkwardly patting the forearm locked around his throat.
“You wanna do it or not?”
“Of course I do! This is gonna be so great!”
Mandy releases her death grip and kisses the top of his head.
“I’m going to start planning your bachelor party right now!”
She kisses him again, and then looks at Ian
“Who is your best man?”
“Lip.”
He looks almost apologetic but Mandy just shrugs, chin held high.
“Great. Mick, who do you want at your party?”
“I don’t know … you and Iggy? Maybe Svet?”
Mickey gives her his usual impatient glance and Mandy nods. To be honest, she really isn’t sure who else she would invite. Her brother has never really had friends and the only person he really likes hanging out with is Ian. So it’s going to be small, fine, that doesn’t mean it won’t be wild. Mandy grins at him and does a double thumbs up
“It’s going to be awesome. I’m on it!”
“Can’t wait.”
Mickey drawls but both Ian and Mandy see the little excited twinkle in his eye and share a knowing glance. Fuckin’ Milkovichs.
*
Lip draws on his cigarette and eyes his little brother frankly. They’re in a booth at the Alibi although neither of them is drinking anything stronger than soda. They could go somewhere else, Lip almost definitely should but it’s familiar and they’re both comfortable so they stay.
“I’m not inviting Mickey.”
“I know.”
Ian nods but Lip holds up a stern finge
“I mean it, Ian. He’s not coming.”
“Jesus! Okay … wait, why?”
“Because I want to get some seven foot Adonis to wiggle his balls in your face without having to cough up bail money for your fiance.”
Ian rolls his eyes and grins, sipping his cola and running the cool glass between his fingers ignoring his brother’s lewd grin.
“A stripper? Really?”
“Yes. A stripper. At a Gay club and the only reason I’m telling you this is because I need to know which ones you worked at so I can avoid them.”
“Uh … I never worked at Heavy Load or Jack Hammer.”
Ian blushes slightly realising that those are two of the only clubs he hasn’t pulled a shift or two at. Lip taps the names into his phone and nods.
“Cool. So now, are you sure you want to join the ranks of the indoctrinated married folks of this fair land?”
“I am. It’ll be good for us.”
Ian fiddles with the label on his jacket sleeve and it is Lip’s turn to roll his eyes
“You’ve loved him for your whole fucking life. How does a piece of paper...”
“You’re being a shitty best man, I just want you to know that.”
Lip grins his usual sardonic little grin and shrugs.
“So are you becoming a Mil...”
He bites the question off and clears his throat guiltily
“Sorry, man. Stupid question.”
“No it’s not stupid.”
Ian frowns. He has no intention of taking Terry’s family name but isn’t sure how to bring it up with Mickey.
“We haven’t actually talked about it.”
He admits finally.
“Mickey Gallagher works fine. Sounds about as Irish as it gets.”
Lip jokes and Ian’s frown clears at the thought of Mickey being a Gallagher.
“I guess I could ask him, see what he says.”
“Yeah you should. We got a an ex-con landlord, an alcoholic genius, a bipolar queer, a teen mom, an juvie kid turned military, and a black kid with two white parents. We got room for a ...”
“Whatever you’re about to call my fiancé, massively fuck you, Lip.”
Ian dips his finger in his cola and flicks it at his big brother.
“Seriously though, I’m really happy. I want this, man.”
Ian is radiating so much happiness that Lip wants to tell him he’s a fricken’ beacon and there really isn’t any need to tell anyone but what he says instead is simply:
“I know.”
“And I want you to be better with Mickey.”
“We do fine together. We had a coffee that time...”
Lip grimaces at how feeble that sounds. One coffee in ten years of knowing the guy. Ouch.
“You pick on him and you press his buttons ...”
“Dude! Come on. Mickey is like a human fucking calculator! He’s 99% buttons.”
“And he’s good at math too.”
Ian smiles smugly as Lip sighs impatiently and taps his finger on the vaguely sticky table top.
“I guess I could tease him a little less.”
“And I want you to say something nice about him in your speech.”
Ian finishes his mental list of demands and sits back contentedly. Lip raises his eyebrows at his little brother and sits back in his chair.
“You’re turning into a proper groomzilla.”
“I know. But do it anyway.”
It’s going to be far too much effort to bicker so instead they clink glasses and Lip wonders if his imminent brother in law has had a similar talk. From Ian’s moony-eyed expression, he kind of doubts it. Fuckin’ Milkovichs.
*
The bachelor parties are scheduled for a week before the wedding to allow sufficient time for hangovers to clear up, bruises to heal and any other shenanigans to blow over. Mickey had not really known what to expect, and thus gone with his life time habit of not expecting much.  
However, now as he is stumbling along the street from where the taxi dropped them off, Mickey realises he’s had a fucking excellent day. Mandy took him and Iggy to a new shooting range with the fancy moving targets and he finally got to try firing a Kriss Vector, something he’s wanted to do for years. After that he and Iggy smoked a whole bunch of pot, out the car window and got Taco Bell drive through, something Ian never lets him do, and then they just started drinking and catching up back at the house.
It’s been years since he spent so much time with his siblings and truth be told Mickey was a little nervous about it but it’s been more than just alright. They shot shit, ate shit, smoked shit and talked shit. It’s been one of the best days he has had in quite a while and the night is only just getting started.
He is already a little wasted. Ian and his posse came to the house for a few drinks before both parties headed off in their separate directions. Mickey likes the Gallagher’s a lot more once he’s had a few drinks and actually had a pretty decent time.
The topper was when Ian had dragged him off to the bedroom before they left for the night. Ian had called it marking his territory in that breathy, deep voice that always gets Mickey going and yanked Mickey’s pants down hard enough to chafe his thighs.
The slightly possessive jealousy that inspired the action pleased Mickey almost more than the actual blowjob. Ian doesn’t normally get jealous ... probably because Mickey doesn’t let anyone else so much as look at him without confrontation but whatever! It was fucking great!  
As he lurches from one side of the street to the other, Mickey loops his arms around each of his siblings.
“You guys are fuckin’ awesome, you know that?”
“Oh shit! Mick, you look trashed!”
Mandy laughs with a grimace and stops to try and smooth her brother’s hair a bit
“Yeh, I think I am.”
Mickey’s grin is wide and a little goofy as Iggy peers round to look at him.
“Ha! Little brother, you’re gonna pass out soon if you don’t slow down.”
Iggy hasn’t called Mickey ‘little brother’ for over fifteen years, not since they were kids and Mickey drunkenly grips the back of the thickly muscled neck in his hand, pressing a fierce kiss to Iggy’s cheek.
“You got anything to sober me up a little?”
“Until we get where we’re goin’ all I got is time, bro.”
For some reason, in Iggy’s slow South Side drawl, this little bit of accidental pseudo philosophy cracks Mickey up and he laughs until his legs won’t hold him and he has to sit down on the curb. Mandy is cackling too but Svet, is trying to hold herself together. Throughout their marriage, if Mickey found something funny, Svetlana did her best not to, and he supposes old habits die hard. Mickey glances at his gang of revellers and is about to tell them something about being glad they came out for his party when the laughter jiggles him a bit too much and with a convulsive shudder, he throws up.
The spray of beer, Jack Daniels, and home-brew vodka that Svet made erupts in a surprisingly neat arc straight into the gutter. Mickey looks down at his shirt to check and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth with a shaky laugh
“Shit. That was lucky!”
Svetlana tuts and steps forward, squatting in front of him in her stiletto heeled boots and producing a little packet of wet wipes and a bottle of water from her purse.
“Swill and spit. The you take a mint.”
She rattles a tiny metal tin at him and proceeds to wipe his free hand with a towelette.
“What the fuck, Svet? Why do you even have this shit?”
Mickey surrenders his other hand and accepts the tongue cluck his limp digits earn him as Svetlana cleans him up.
“Because your son is as messy as you are. I always thought it was bad parenting, turns out it is genetic. This is good news for me.”
“Nah, he’s a great kid. Nothin’ bad about him at all.”
Mickey shakes his head with a proud, one sided smile that creates a dimple in is left cheek.
“I’ll remind you of that when you’re sober.”
Svetlana smiles and offers him a hand up.
“Where are we goin’ anyway?”
Mickey asks and Mandy gives him a sly look from beneath heavily mascaraed eyelashes.
“A gay bar.”
“What?”
Mickey’s eyes flare wide and flick toward Iggy, his shoulders tensing involuntarily
“Yep, Mandy picked the place so if it’s not your scene, that’s on her!”
Iggy swigs out of his beer can and offers the rest to Mickey who takes it, still not fully processing what is going on.
“You’re comin’ to an actual gay club? You know you can’t fag bash in those, man.”
“Don’t be retarded, I haven’t done that shit in years. Didn’t feel right what with you being a queer and all.”
Iggy shrugs and grins mischievously at his little brother
“Besides, I looked this shit up online. I’m either a ‘Slim-Bear’ or a ‘cub’ and either way they’re two of the good types of gay to be. I might get laid.”
“Wha...”
Mickey looks around to make sure the others have just heard what he has but before he can question Iggy further, his brother is continuing, warming to his theme
“Ian’s a Jock now. He used to be a Twink but ...”
“Hey! Don’t fuckin’ call him that!”
Mickey snaps, but Svetlana interjects with a shrug
“No it is true, he would have been classed as a Twink before but now, definitely Jock.”
“I don’t … what that fuck are you talkin’ about?”
Mickey sips his beer and rubs a hand over his forehead in confusion.
“Types of Gay men, Mick.”
Mandy smiles, and links her arm through his.
“It’s bullshit really. Kind of like horoscopes of something.”
Mickey chews on his lip and glances at Iggy
“So … like … everyone has one, huh?”
“Pretty much. You wanna know yours?”
“No… Yeah … Okay...”
Mickey pauses in his stride and stands up to his full height, puffing his chest out and lifting his chin as if he is about to pass or fail a crucial life test. Iggy considers with a squinting scowl that earns him a ‘what the fuck’ sneer from his brother.
“You’re a Cub, but a specific type, you’re Discreet Cub”
“No! He’s a Wolf!”
Svetlana shakes her head at Iggy who frowns and tips his head, considering Mickey again
“No … not hairy enough.”
“But he is too aggressive to be a Cub.”
“Well he’s clearly a Power Bottom. They sit more in with Cubs. Mick, you’re bossy in bed, right?”
“Excuse me? What the fuck did you just ...”
Mickey begins but Svetlana waves him off and speaks over him
“Oh, most definitely a PB. But a Cub? No.”
Mickey is doing his best not to act in anyway that might mean he gets bumped to something less than satisfactory but the assessment is taking a bit too long and he can feel his patience slipping.
“Which one’s better?”
He asks irritably and then noticing that he is posing in the street, shakes himself off and keeps walking.
Svet smiles triumphantly and gestures to Mickey’s slightly wide-legged stance
“See! He even walks aggressive. Like cowboy. Like Wolf!”
“Yeah, yeah that is true. Okay, Wolf.”
Iggy nods as Mickey looks to Mandy for confirmation and she nods sagely with a reassuring wink
“You want to be a Wolf, they’re badass.”
Mickey smiles a little and rubs the edge of his nose. The whole conversation was weird as fuck and he’s not entirely sure why he let it happen but it turns out he is the badass kind of Gay dude so that’s something. He glances round at the them all again and grins to himself. Fuckin’ Milkovichs.
*
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