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overdramatic-queer-antagonist · 3 years ago

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Mick Mercury's Failed Attempt At Espionage

Summary: Mick Mercury was easily the most incompetent person Peter had ever met, and it infuriated him how long it took for them to be introduced. Notes: There is a severe lack of Mick Mercury in Season 3, and that will not stand, so I put him in.

Read it on Ao3

Fic:

"JJ! Hey! JJ! Hello? Can you hear me?"

Peter would not have made any connection to the aforementioned 'JJ,' and Juno Steel had he not been glowering at the petulant ex-detective when the unfamiliar man called out and seen how Juno had tensed at the voice.

The large man made a noise of annoyance, and oh God, he's walking towards Juno. Peter wasn't worried for the lady, he was wholly aware Juno knew how to handle himself, but Peter had yet to foresee an outcome of this conversation that didn't blow their cover.

"Juno Steel!" the man yelled as Juno continued to ignore him.

It was, unfortunately, very clear who he was addressing, and the woman Juno had been flirting with gave him a confused look. Peter would be lying if that didn't please him ever so slightly, but, as always, he filed that feeling away for later and went to save Juno's ass.

"Dear," Peter called out, attempting to get into the act of a doting husband, which had recently become much more difficult for him. Juno glanced at him appreciatively and went to stand at his side, where Peter promptly put an arm around his waist.

“You gave me a bit of a scare Mercury,” Juno said, looking at Peter for confirmation he wasn’t being dumb. Peter nodded ever so slightly as permission to continue. “Haven’t heard my maiden name in a while, no one’s called me that- well- since the wedding!” Juno forced a laugh that sounded more nervous than casual, but the woman he was talking with looked like she understood which- okay. That bothered Peter because that meant she was okay with flirting with a married man, but whatever, filed away.

“Wedding?” Mercury yelled. “JJ, You never told me anything about any wedding.”

“Listen, Mick, I know you're upset, but can we talk in private,” Juno’s eyes flickered to the woman he’d been speaking with, and Mick- Mick Mercury. What a fucking name- nodded. Juno led Mercury to a private corner of the ballroom, and Peter followed automatically. Mick gave Juno a look, but Juno returned it with one of his own, and Mick dropped whatever he was thinking. Peter couldn’t decide if it was frustrating or charming that they could hold a conversation without speaking. He settled on frustrating, simply because they were clearly close, and Juno had never thought to mention him. Granted, Peter wasn’t sure why that frustrated him, but it did. Another thing to file away.

The exact second they’d arrived at their designated corner, Mick spun on his feet. “Okay, what the hell, J? I always thought when you got married I’d at least get invited! I mean, obviously, I thought Benten or- hell, even Sasha would be man/maid of honor, but I thought I’d get an invite!” Juno tensed at the mention of Benzaiten, and Peter subconsciously put a hand on his lower back. Juno tensed more at this, but after a moment, relaxed. Mick continued on, oblivious. “And come on Juno, how long have you ever known this guy? We saw each other recently, and you didn’t even think to mention him?! I mean, I know we’ve grown apart since I almost got you killed by a serial killer lady, but come on, man!”

Juno gave Mick an incredulous look. “Okay, first of all, last time we saw each other, a robot made you try to kill me, not exactly the best time to bring it up. Second-”

“Second…” Peter interrupted before he, himself knew what he was doing. “We’ve known each other for three years. And my apologies for the lack of notice, Mick. See, I lead a very dangerous life, and my lady and I thought it safer to keep knowledge of my existence away from anyone who wasn’t trained in combat. And also Rita, but mainly because she tapped Juno’s comms and listened in on a very…”

“Oh my god!”

“Sorry, dear. I forgot how easily flustered you are.”

Mick gave Peter an appraising look for a second before deciding the answer was good enough for him and moving on. “So if you live such a dangerous life,” he lowered his voice to a -frankly terrible- whisper, “Then what are you doing here?”

Peter lowered his voice conspiratorially, “I really shouldn’t tell you this but, we’re on a secret mission. ‘Above Dark Matters’ secret. How about you?” This was a ridiculous cover, but he’d gotten away with stranger, besides, he was a little distracted by the woman Juno had been speaking to, looking their way, hungrily, no doubt at his companion. Peter’s grip around Juno tightened, and, to his surprise, Juno leaned into it.

“Really? Above Dark Matters? Juno, that’s great! Wow, Sasha must’ve flipped when you told her!”

“I didn’t Mercury, that’s what secret means. And I didn’t tell her about the mister either, and if you do, I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Good. Hey, my husband asked a good question, why are you here?”

“I thought it might be good to get off of Mars after the whole Newtown debacle, so I got a job at a catering company, and then I got fired for eating all of the cupcakes, so I decided to join the party, and they haven’t noticed yet.”

Juno snickered. "Glad to see you're back to normal."

"Yeah, me too. Being responsible was exhausting, even with the good habits some of it brought. Anyways, I'll get back to the party, let you two plan out your secret mission," Mick finished that statement walking backward and, when it was finished, promptly ran into a plant.

"What was that about?" Juno asked. "I mean, I get that you had to lie to him, but why... That?"

"Why did you leave me in that hotel room?" Peter asked. He'd meant it as a joke, at Juno's expense, of course, but it came off a bit more genuine than he would have liked.

Juno flinched, and for a moment, all Peter wanted to do was sweep him up in a hug, apologize for bringing it up and move on, but Peter was allowed to be angry. After what felt like an eternity but was probably 5 seconds tops, Juno spoke, "We need to talk about that eventually. You know. If we're gonna be working together."

"And we will, Dear Detective, but not right now. I believe the bidding is starting soon."

---

The bidding did not go as planned. While Peter would like to claim it was entirely the fault of his accomplice, he would be dishonest if he did so, and Peter Nureyev lied to many people, but not himself. Mostly.

Their new plan was as followed, Juno would continue to distract Ms. Zolotovna -the woman, who'd been eyeing him all night- and Peter would swipe it while nobody- not even the cameras- was looking. The first flaw of this plan came from one Mick Mercury, who was really starting to piss Peter off.

Mick had cornered him while he was making his rounds to destroy all the cameras.

"Hey! Uh... I never got your name, but Juno's husband!"

Peter turned around a little more aggressively than he meant to. "Yes?" He asked, already on his last nerve.

"I- uhh... listen, bud, this conversation is gonna be real awkward if you don't give me something to call you."

Peter quickly scanned his brain for a moniker he'd used with Juno, one that the lady may have mentioned to Mick in passing but not have gone into too much detail. There was only one with the chance of fitting the bill. "Rex. My name is Rex."

Mick's eyes lit up with recognition, and Peter immediately regretted his decision to use a name that had been plastered all over Hyperion to a native of the area. But there didn't seem to be any panic in Mick's eyes. Just... worry.

"Listen," Mick said, more serious than he had been all night. "I don't wanna give you some shovel talk. I'm sure you already got that from Rita." Peter had, which was strange considering Juno swore up and down that he never mentioned their past relationship. "But I just want you to know that, when all that went down, and you left, you really broke his heart. So just- be careful this time, okay? You and I both know he's more delicate than he lets on, and I can tell from the way you look at him that you love him, so just don't mess it up. Please?"

There was a definite moment where Peter stopped breathing until he remembered Juno and he were posing as newlyweds. He then forced his well-practiced laugh and asked, "Am I that obvious?"

"Yeah, like the way you were glaring at Ms. Zolotovna? You looked like you wanted to kill her! Oh! But you don't have to worry about that. Juno looked like he was just as close to killing her as you were, and I don't think he's ever cheated in his life. Well, there was that one time, in second grade when he-"

Mercury went on rambling for a while. He and Rita would get along swimmingly. Not that Peter was paying attention. No, he was far too busy staring into space. Apparently, Mick thought he was jealous of Ms. Zolotovna. Which, of course, couldn't be farther from the truth. He'd just been bothered that Juno would allow himself to become so distracted, that was all... Mostly.

Looking at him with Zolotovna felt wrong. Of course, it felt wrong, Peter tried to convince himself. Once upon a time, he had been in love with Juno. Even if those feelings had since dissipated it still made his stomach churn to think of Juno with anyone else. Maybe that wasn't healthy. Peter was starting to think maybe Juno was right about them needing to talk. But now was not the time nor the place for a heart. Just another thing for him to file away.

Right, Mercury was talking to him. God, Peter really needed to swipe that map so they could get out of there. "Well, Mick. I can assure you, I'd sooner die than hurt Juno. Will that be all?"

Mick seemed to have been interrupted mid-sentence, but he was friends with Juno, so Peter assumed he was used to it. "Oh! No, Juno wanted me to go get you for your-" he dropped his voice to a stage whisper "-secret-ay mission-ay."

Peter's brain stopped for a solid second. "Was that- was that meant to be Pig Latin?"

"No," Mick said, winking dramatically.

Peter followed Mick, a tad bit shaken by the implication that Mick Mercury didn't know what Pig Latin was in the slightest until the pair eventually reached Juno.

"Took you long enough, what? Were you stuck in a flowerpot?" The lady asked when they'd reached him.

Peter laughed, not entirely sure who the question was directed at. "Mick tells me you have a plan?"

"Not a plan, an observation. There's a camera trained on the map, one which you won't have time to dismantle before the dance begins in-" Juno looked at the grand clock in the center of the room "-4 minutes."

Peter grimaced in thought before eventually coming up with a solution. "Mick, when I give you a signal, try to get caught. Juno and I'll give you a lift back to Mars."

Peter was expecting some resistance from Mick, but he just nodded enthusiastically, "Okay, Rex. Uhh... I'm not really used to all this spy stuff. What's the signal?"

Peter only thought for a moment before coming up with an answer, "I'll trip on my heels."

Juno laughed, "Babe, that's a shit idea. What if you actually trip?"

Peter pointedly ignored the feeling in his chest when Juno called him 'babe' and instead responded, "I don't trip, dear."

Juno blushed and began to argue before being interrupted as the dance began. Peter silently held his hand out for Juno to take, and the lady barely hesitated before taking it.

Once they were far enough from Mick, Juno began to snicker softly to himself.

"What?"

"Feeling nostalgic, Rex?"

Peter laughed along with him. "What? It's the only name I could imagine you bringing up. Granted, I didn't expect it to stick with Mercury, but uh... I'm-"

"Don't. At least you had a reason. I was just scared."

"Of what?"

"Later, Nureyev," Juno whispered.

As they walked onto the dance floor, Peter could almost laugh with delight. Zolotovna hadn't been tracking his companion this entire night. She'd been tracking him. Maybe that said something about his self-confidence, maybe it said something about his affection for Juno, or maybe all it said was he would not make a very good detective. Either way, there would be a slight change in their normal routine.

"Juno, I do believe you'll have to be the one to swipe the map, someone seems to be watching me."

'Ugh! She's still doing it? That's messed up. Like our cover is as a married couple, and she has no problem making goo-goo eyes at you!"

Peter laughed, "Madam Dauphine, are you jealous?"

Juno gave him a smirk, "Of course not, Monsieur Dauphine. I know you have better taste than that."

"I must've if I married you."

Juno gave him a smile. Not the snarky one Peter'd been expecting. A soft smile, one full of admiration. Peter remembered this smile, right after they'd stopped Miasma, and Juno miraculously survived, bleeding from one eye and looking at Peter as if he'd been the one locking himself in a room about to explode.

"What's with that look?" Peter asked.

"Nothing," Juno said. "I just forgot how fun it is to work with you when you aren't pretending to be someone else."

Peter grinned at Juno as they separated. Him going to distract Zolotovna, Juno going to swipe a billion-dollar artifact.

---

Their plan had gone off without a hitch, Zolotovna was rambling on with some love confession, or the other, and Peter was pretending to listen, watching in awe as Juno gracefully swiped their prize from behind his glasses. Peter had come up with some logical reason to reject Zolotovna, guessing she wouldn't be all too satisfied with the excuse of "I'm happily married," something about organized crime. He doesn't remember. Even managed to get a little over a billion creds from her.

He then made his way over to Juno. Planning on waiting a few minutes to escape into the crowd before signaling Mercury. And as he made his way to Juno, a golden goddess, a perfect image of beauty and grace, with his dark brown skin and curly hair and the scars scattered across his skin. Peter did the unthinkable. He tripped. Too distracted by the image in front of him to notice his misstep. That is until Mercury started taunting the guards.

Then he, Juno, and Mercury were running across the yard to where Jet was waiting with the car. At some point, Peter's arm had ended up around Juno's waist, likely when he nearly fell over trying to throw his heels off and grabbed onto Peter for stability. They finally reached the car, and Juno threw open the door, the three of them clamoring in at top speed.

"Hello, Ransom, Juno. Who's this?" Jet asked in the same deadpan tone, as always.

"We'll tell you later, now fucking drive!" Juno rushed, a little breathless.

"Alright, then. Buckle your seatbelts."

"Go!"

---

When they got back to the ship, Buddy spent approximately 30 minutes rotating between tearing Peter and Juno to shreds for their performance and greeting Mick and asking if he was staying for dinner. She did, however, agree to bring Mick back to Mars before making their way to their next mission.

Later, Peter and Buddy had a much kinder conversation. One that brought up an emotion that Peter had not felt in a very long time. Familial love. He would try not to think too much of it, but an undeniable comfort had begun to settle into Peter's stomach.

There was another knock on the door after she left, and he already knew who it was. Finally, after nearly a year, it was later.

#the penumbra podcast #tpp #tpp season 3 #tpp fic #tpp nureyev #peter nureyev #tpp juno #juno steel #junoverse #tpp mick #mick mercury #jupeter

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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 3 years ago

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Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 2)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge.

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3.

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki visits Mick to give him a very important task.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead @i-dont-like-rice @nikki-sexx @smokeandmirrorz

Mick was supposed to not give a shit about Nikki. He and the stupid drummer had tormented him and his wife for months on ends, making the whole tour a living hell and he didn’t need to have even more things to worry about. So what if his bassist decided to get addicted to heroin? He was a fucking dumbass but it wasn’t his problem. He would end up killing himself and it wasn’t like Mick could have done something, not when his whole body was torturing him.

The only problem was that he cared, deep down. He cared about the fucker and hearing the news that he was gone forever hit him. He lost one of his friends and the band all together in a day, what would have happened? He hated to admit he was scared about the future, it was hard to imagine Motley Crue without Nikki.

He sighed, turning off yet another discussion about his death. They didn’t call him yet but something was telling him that they had to release a statement soon. Doc was probably freaking out somewhere crying for all his millions of dollars lost.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man” A voice incredibly similar to Nikki said, making Mick jump up.

Nikki didn’t feel anything, one moment they were in the ambulance and the other they were on the beach. He was confused for a moment before he remembered that Mick had a beach house, and stared at it for a bit. He didn’t know much about the guitarist, maybe almost nothing but he respected him so much. He was one of the strongest dudes he had ever met.

The weirdest thing about all of this was probably how he was only able to feel certain things, no cravings or sand under his feet as he was walking, yet he would still feel guilt, fear, love, worry… it didn’t make sense but he wasn’t in the mood to question the universe’s rules.

People can’t see you until you decide to show yourself. You have to remember or otherwise they can’t hear or see you.

The voice still freaked him out, but at the same time he was grateful for it to be there… it made him feel less alone, which was great considering how he felt lonely for his entire life.

“You’re not alone Nikki, I’ll always be there with you, through highs and lows”

“God it sounds like a marriage vow, T-Bone”

“Well if I could I’d marry now…”

He shook his head, trying to get the memory out. It wasn’t the time to be sentimental and risk fucking everything up, so he walked ( more like flew) through the front door and found Mick sitting on the couch.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man”. The bassist hoped that he was heard, otherwise it would have been pretty embarrassing.

Mick visibly jumped at hearing Nikki’s voice and quickly turned around to look at him. From his widened eyes and confused expression, he knew he probably looked fucking transparent.

“Okay first of all why the hell are you here talking to me if you’re dead? Then why the fuck can I see myself through you ?”

The black haired man just realized that he had no idea how to explain everything and be believed, he just went along with whatever the voice in his head was saying, but now it was different. He fumbled with his hand and realized he couldn’t feel them, while he tried to come up with the best way to explain to his friend how he was a ghost and why he was there.

“I died… I have no idea how I came back but I have unfinished business and I need to talk to you!”

The guitarist looked at him up and down, clearly skeptical. However, there wasn’t much arguing… Nikki’s ghost was literally standing in front of him.

“Okay I have no idea if this is a dream, I’m dead or in a coma, or simply I drank too much but now I’ll grab some vodka and you’ll spill your little secrets as you like”.

Nikki smiled a bit… He honestly felt normal for the first time since he was brought back. Having Mick joking was so familiar, usually Tommy was the aim of his jokes and they all laughed because they were all so unexpected…

Tommy. Thinking about him still hurt, again he wondered if he was okay and how much he missed him… but it wasn’t his time now. He had other things to talk about as Mick came back into the living room with his glass.

“Mick… you gotta promise me that you won’t let Motley Crue die, that you will fight to keep the band’s legacy.”

The older man looked at him surprised, rolling his eyes.

“Well that’s a bit hard when our bassist and songwriter died!”

Rage and resentment were heavy in his voice but there was more : fear and sadness. Nikki felt guilty and he fucking hated it, it was so unlike him but he couldn’t help it… Mick cared about the band as much as he did. He always said the band was his life, before heroin came into the picture, but it was also Mick’s and he probably destroyed everything.

“You will find another one, another bassist who is also a songwriter…” The words felt so foreign coming from his mouth. They even hurt a bit but they were necessary.

“I know you care about this band as much as I do, Mick. I know how much you’ve worked your ass off in shitty bands, trying to find the one that was going to break… I might be dead but Crue can’t have the same fate”.

Mick scoffed, taking a long sip of his vodka.

“It’s not easy, it’s not like we can find the perfect match like we did. Plus, everyone will probably hate him for replacing you!”

The frustration was almost tangible, but there was something else… Mick was scared, he knew everything was about to fade away because of Nikki’s actions, he was already looking at the boat sinking. Nikki started to panic because his band had to live, even in his death! It was pointless and selfish but that was the only thing people could remind him of.

“If you give up, then Vince and Tommy will do the same! I know that you think no one will take you, but the truth is they will. Crue is what it is because of our vision, you are part of it and I’m asking you to keep it going. Think of this as my dying man’s wish… even if I’m already dead”

The older man’s grip on his glass got tighter, his eyes lost in thought as he was pondering Nikki’s words. It was hard to take in, hell that was an understatement, it was fucking insane and probably wouldn’t work but the bassist needed to have this false hope.

“It’s so fucking weird, you know? To realize you’re fucking dead yet here talking to me.”

He was deflecting, Nikki knew it, but didn’t want to push it too far. He learned to know Mick, he kept his promises and he was a hard worker and with a good dose of luck and jokes, you got him to your side.

“Yeah, do you remember how I said you weren’t going to make it in that interview? Well, karma hits like a bitch!”

“Mick might not make it , he drinks a little too much and it looks rough” Mick quoted, trying to imitate Nikki’s voice.

“Yeah and then you said something like I heard what you said and you’re dead, fuck I guess you were right” He laughed but Mick didn’t.

Oh c’mon so what if he was joking about his death? It’s not like anyone really cared about him. They just saw him as a burden, which he was. Not his mom, nor his band or his Tommy would have really missed him… they would eventually move on.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He said annoyed but his lips formed a small smile.

“I know, I know. Mick… please promise me that. If Crue is going to end, then my whole life didn’t mean anything! Ple…” He stopped himself, he was so fucking close to begging but he couldn’t. Nikki Sixx didn’t fucking beg, not in life or death.

“I’m thinking about it!”

He really meant the first part. He spent all his teenage and adult years creating the band of his dreams and making sure they conquered the world. This band was his escape; his attempt at redemption after his shitty childhood. Nobody loved Frank Feranna but he didn’t care, he would become Nikki Sixx and be super fucking famous!

He didn’t need anyone’s love, except that he did.

“ I love you, Nikki.”

“ No you don’t, nobody does, T-Bone”

“Well I fucking do. You gotta pass on my dead body before you’ll hear me not saying it over and over”

His heart might have stopped, but he still felt the big wave of nostalgia hitting him. He couldn’t do it, he would have never been ready to see him again.

“Okay, I will. But listen to me, it won’t be easy and I’m an old man with a fucked up back, so don’t send demons against me if I fail!” The little spark of determination in his eyes relaxed Nikki, he was on board.

“I fucking knew you were the best, Mars! If I wasn’t dead I’d probably tattoo your face on me as a thank you!”

“Oh gross, never say that again!” He pretended to be disgusted but his eyes betrayed him, the small softness in them told Nikki he felt touched.

“Who knows, maybe in hell they have tattoos for the ghosts. God we used to hate each other and now we are two peas in a pod.”

“I still hate you.”

“Ugh, you crushed my heart Mick”

The guitarist flipped him off, rolling his eyes. Nikki desperately wanted to keep talking, if he did then he could have pretended nothing changed, right? He didn’t have to face Vince and Tommy and go through the light… everything would have stayed the same or he could fool himself that it would.

I think it’s time to go to the next person.

The voice was demanding yet still calm. Nikki knew that he couldn’t stay forever, they had to prevent spirits from just lingering into the real world like that, it made him a bit angry but he understood it. It wasn’t like he could have done much anyway…He was just a shell of what he used to be.

“I gotta go Mick…” He wanted to punch himself because he sounded so fucking pathetic, but the other man gave him a compassionate smile.

What he fuck are you, a little small puppy? Oh look Frankie is scared to leave his illusion of a family.

Mick walked him to the other without saying anything, but before turning the handle, which was pointless because Nikki could have just passed through the door, he broke the silence.

“Try to give us some signs, okay? Show us that you’re there… but don’t you fucking dare spill my vodka or I’ll make you two times dead!”

“Oh that’s exactly what I’ll do, thanks for the suggestion!”

He stepped outside and looked at Mick one last time.

“You promised, alien. You gotta do it!”

“Yeah yeah, you better repay me when I come to join you there…” And with one last look, Mick closed the door.

Nikki felt all of the weight crushing down on his body, even if it was made of air. He simply stood still, his mind racing like a freight train, trying to take everything in but also getting ready for his next move… being overwhelmed was an understatement, he felt peeled down like an orange and this was only the beginning. He felt like a fucking coward but he just wanted to get over it, was it that bad to accept his fate and disappear without facing anyone?

You are going to abandon him again? You know why you need to talk to Vince, and you know this will be your last chance to see him, asshole!

He went to kick the sand, but he couldn’t touch it. God, how frustrating was that!

So where are we going next?

Nikki would have wanted to scream at him, give him the middle finger and just run away but it wouldn’t have been helpful, would it? So he forced himself to be as neutral as possible.

“Vince Neil. Take me to his house.”

#nikki sixx #Tommy Lee #mick mard #vince neil #motley crue #motley crue fanfiction #80sRock #80s rock band #fanfiction #my writing #tommy lee x nikki sixx

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donaidk · 4 years ago

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Mick Schumacher - Perfect Strangers

Thank you so much for requesting! I had lots of fun with this one 😂 and did leave it a bit open if maybe in the future someone would like a second part to this one. Hope you will like it, and have a lovely Monday! 🥰🧡

Inspiration song

Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

“ You okay alone? I have to go but wouldn’t want to bore you with press events. ” Seb turned to me after talking to Britta for a little, while I watched the mechanics tend to his car in the garage. “ You can stay here, I’m sure no one minds the company. ” He added, sending me a little smile, making me nod.

“ Yeah, I would probably get lost anyways if I went out there. ” I let out a laugh, staying in my seat next to the engineers as he gave me a quick hug and then left the garage, following Britta who was already telling him everything he needed to know. Today was the second time I met her, but I still liked her calm, collected demeanor and energy. I could see why Seb was so content about working with her for the past years.

While they were gone I watched as the team got ready for FP1 and the camera crews walked around the paddock, catching drivers for interviews and capturing moments for interludes they will have during the coverage of the practice rounds on TV. I was more familiar with watching the practices, qualis and races on TV than attending them, even though I would have had the chance to do so. Sebastian was a great friend of my dad, making him like an honorary uncle or godfather to me when I was a bit older and spent quite some time with him and Hana. I even looked after Emilie when they had somewhere to go and were sure I won’t put him in danger. We were lucky that I was trustworthy from a really young age, meaning they could trust me with him as soon as he was fine without Hana being there for a few hours. There wasn’t an occasion when I would have rejected babysitting the young Vettels.

“ Can I get a coffee from somewhere? ” I turned to Seb’s engineer when I saw he wasn’t occupied with something else. I really didn’t want to bother them as they were doing an important job here. At the same time, I needed directions not to get lost around the paddocks.

“ Of course. They have different kinds in the canteen. But we have a machine here too, if that’s enough for you. ” He pointed at a door in the hallway, making me follow his finger with my gaze. “ It’s the staff room, but driver guests are welcome to use it. ” He added with a smile which I returned, thanking him before standing up.

Inside the room I could easily spot the machine that was already going with a cup under it, slowly being filled with the dark liquid. While it finished up I took another cup and a capsule from the holder on the counter. When the machine turned off I quickly changed out the empty capsule and also the cup from it, putting it to the side. I was sure someone would come back for it later. Sure enough, just when the machine finished my coffee the door behind me opened. I was just looking for some sugar and creamer, not really paying attention to my surroundings, and jumping a little when someone greeted me. Turning back immediately my eyes met with a boy, who was around my age and I could recognise him as Mick. Probably anyone would have recognised him.

“ Sorry, didn’t want to scare you. ” He let out a chuckle, stepping to the counter next to me. “ Was this under the machine? ” He asked me pointing at the mug that I put to the side.

“ Yes. Hope you don’t mind me taking it out. ” I smiled at him stepping to my own cup and adding a bit of sugar and cream into it. “ Sugar? ” I asked him, handing the container to him when he nodded a little. I took a sip from it, to make sure it had enough of everything, before turning to the room.

“ You’re Y/N, right? ” He asked and although I nodded as an answer, I couldn’t help surprise getting onto my face. It wasn’t shocking that people knew his name and almost anything about him, but I couldn’t tell the same about me. “ Seb talks quite a lot about you. At least once every weekend. Also, I think we met before already. ” He explained, making me sigh and hide my face in my palm a little.

“ Never thought I would be a topic for Seb to mention all the time. ” I shook my head, leaving the room when he was ready and we went back to the garage together. “ Hope he only said good things about me. Although I’m pretty sure he probably embarrassed me already, even without me coming to races. ” I let out a sigh entering the garage and sitting down on my previous spot.

“ Not too embarrassing. Just the usual child stories. Although I would say they were more about his children, mentioning you on the way too. ” He shrugged a little, sitting down next to me, at the end of the ‘table’. “ But he made sure we knew you’re coming today. ” My eyes widened a little, before letting out a laugh. If people didn’t know him so well, they could have misunderstood me for one of his children. If I would have been younger, probably, as I was too old for that to be a possibility.

“ So I wasn’t even a surprise? That’s upsetting. ” I let out a sigh, swirling my cup a little, to dissolve the sugar on the bottom of my coffee, as the first sip was still quite bitter. “ Oh, congrats for the championship. I almost forgot. ” I let out a laugh, my hand slapping my forehead a little, as I realised how impolite I was with not even mentioning it.

“ It’s okay, but thank you. I’m just looking forward to the next season now. Gonna be quite a change. ” He smiled at me, shrugging a little but then his shoulders stayed a bit lifted as his muscles tensed. I looked up at him with an understanding smile.

“ You’re gonna get into it. First years are for getting used to the championship and the car. ” I told him, hoping I wasn’ saying something that sounded stupid. I followed the sport but wasn’t as knowledgeable about it as some fans. “ I’m sure every fan knows how hard it is. ” I added as I thought that could be a concern of his. His team loved him, I was sure they would support him however the next year turns out.

“ First seasons are always for learning, but… you know, they think experience comes easily with my name. ” He sighed, rather lifting his cup to his lips, probably to mask the smile fading away from his face. I couldn’t fault him though, there was probably immense pressure on him. Of course, mostly from the outside world, as people around him probably knew quite well how talented he was. Just as Seb always mentioned how skilled and kind he was.

Everything sped up when Seb and Charles arrived back at the garage and they started getting ready for practice. We mostly just stayed silent, sharing a few thoughts when something happened, so we won’t disturb the engineers and he can also mostly focus on the data and how everything went with Ferrari. I knew this was already his time to learn everything, and didn’t need any distractions. I was fully content with just watching the practice runs and how the crew worked around the car when it was brought back in before one more round around the circuit. I was just about to get a bit bored with everything when it was time for lunch and we could leave. For the afternoon I went for a little walk close to the track, and only met up again with Seb for dinner in the hotel’s restaurant.

I was a bit surprised when Mick joined us, but didn’t mind it one bit. He was funny and it felt like we have known each other for years already, even though this was just the second time in our whole lifetime. I could see Seb watching us, like a hawk, his grin not leaving his face once. I saw as he tried to speak up, the smirk giving him away, but by pushing his leg with mine I got him to close his mouth before uttering a sound. Britta almost choked on her next bite as she knew exactly what was happening, but tried playing it off. Luckily it didn’t seem like Mick realised what was happening around him, and I was glad Seb couldn’t make the night uncomfortable for everyone. He had that effect on situations like this, mostly when it was about me or his own children. They were lucky they were still too small to understand it.

“ You seemed to get on quite well. ” Seb spoke up when we were already on the floor of our rooms making me roll my eyes. He wasn’t someone I was about to have this conversation with gladly.

“ Well, he’s my age and kind. Not like you. ” I poked his side with my elbow, making the both of us laugh as we got to our rooms. With a quick goodnight both of us entered our separate rooms and got ready for the night. I was maybe looking forward to the next day a bit more than that day. Knowing I will have a bit more company made everything better.

The following day we got to the track early as Seb still had some interviews to do before practice. I knew we wouldn’t be able to have lunch together as the afternoon was about Qualification and he needed to focus, but I was sure I would find someone to eat with or maybe just go by myself this one time. What surprised me stepping inside the garage was Mick sitting in the same position as yesterday and a mug of piping hot coffee waiting for me next to his one. With a glare sent at Seb, who was snickering at the situation, I walked closer, sitting down on the stool. His gaze immediately lifted from his phone, looking at me with a smile.

“ Morning. ” I greeted him with the same smile, my hand moving to the cup in front of me. “ Is this for me? Or are you getting ready for a long day? ” I asked him chuckling, seeing as he shook his head a little, maybe even rolling his eyes.

“ Yours. The way you made it yesterday. Hope that’s really how you like it. ” He added, although I already got an answer to my question. It was really sweet of him to think about me, and even more, remembering how I made it just a day ago.

“ Thank you. Glad I didn’t hold back on the sugar then. ” I shook my head a little, taking a sip already and I was sure he followed my usual ‘recipe’ as it tasted the exact same way. “ Perfect! ” I added with a content sigh, my body finally waking up. I wasn’t made for early mornings, even though on most days I started my schedule quite early.

We had an almost exact repeat of the previous day, the only differences being that we had lunch, just the two of us, and that I stayed for the afternoon, watching the quali and rooting for Seb. I may have missed a few laps, being too distracted by our conversation but even when he only reached P13 I knew it wasn’t because of us not watching him. Seeing how frustrated he was I left him to Britta, knowing he didn’t like company so soon after suffering a kind of defeat. He usually just needed time to calm down and look at everything with a calm head again.

“ There’s usually a party on the beach after the races here. Usually the younger drivers are the one attending with some of the crews. But if you would like to come and Seb will be in the mood to relax, they probably wouldn’t mind having you guys there. ” Mick made me turn towards him from my position, a smile getting onto my face, while his was a bit unsure. “ I wouldn’t mind anyways. So you two can be my guest. ” He shrugged a little, his eyes averting between mine as I was looking straight at him.

“ Sure, thank you. He usually gets back to normal if he has some time to calm down. ” I let out a sigh looking towards the hallway where Seb disappeared just seconds ago. I was pretty sure that inside he was fuming at his starting position while Britta tried to talk a bit of sense into him.

Although I took a car back to the hotel with him, in the end he chose to have dinner in his room and I went to the canteen alone. Thinking back to the night I can’t even remember how I ended up at a table with some of the guys who were my age, with Mick to my side. There were a few of the F2 and even F3 drivers too, everyone talking and joking together. even though everyone had to have an early night we still spent a few hours together just talking, before everyone went to their own rooms. I did toss and turn for a little until I finally fell asleep and then stayed in bed almost all morning.

The first thing I got out of bed for was lunch before getting ready for the race and the party afterwards. I didn’t put on anything special as I always prioritised comfort over look and didn’t pack anything party worthy anyways. A light blouse, jeans and a sandal had to do it as it was everything I had for the few days I planned on spending in Abu Dhabi. Who thought I would get invited to a championship party during my first ever true race weekend. Not me, that’s for sure. I knew we would maybe have a drink or two with the ones close to Seb if the race goes well, but didn’t think I would get to celebrate with younger ones, no matter in which position they cross the finish line.

We left the hotel together for the track with Seb, the car dropping us off at the parking lot just prior to the entrance to the paddocks. I tried focusing on him,just making sure he knew he had my support too, although I couldn’t help but get into a short conversation with Mick. When I turned back to the older man he was already putting on his helmet, but sent me a smile, from which I knew he wasn’t mad at me for not being always next to him. I watched as he got into his car but then left for the grandstand, as I really didn’t want to be in the way of anyone, and opted for watching the race from the usual position. I thought it would be less stressful this way, as I was an outsider more than someone who knew a drive personally, but I was still a bit disappointed for him when they finished the last lap in front of us. I took the stairs down to the paddocks, entering the Ferrari garage even before Seb arrived back.

“ You did good. ” I hugged him when he got to me, although I knew simple words couldn't help after a season like his. It still felt right to tell him, making sure he knew we were still proud of him.

“ Thank you, but it wasn’t the best last season I would have asked for. ” He shrugged a little, putting down his equipment on the table next to him. “ I’m gonna have to get some interviews, photos done and change. We can leave after that if you don’t mind staying until then. ” He informed me, while I crossed my arms in front of myself.

“ Actually, Mick invited me to like a season ending party at the beach. Most of the younger drivers will be there, and you’re invited too if you would like to come. ” I told him, waiting patiently for his answer. “ But I don’t mind staying if you would like some company. ” I added, realising I took him not minding my absence for granted.

“ I’ll probably just have a quiet night, but you go and have fun. I’m fine with leaving you to him and the others. ” He shook his head, with a small smile still visible on his face. “ I’m gonna be miserable enough for the both of us, and we will have enough time to catch up after today. ” He added with a laugh when I was about to change my mind, pulling me into a side hug.

That’s how I ended up in a car with all the youngsters, after a quick introduction, that took us to the beach. It was probably a private section of the sandy path next to the water, as it wasn’t crowded and every face that came up to me was already familiar in a way. I couldn’t fault them for only partying in their own circles, as I could imagine the chaos some fans getting in would cause. No one needed that when they came here to relax a bit, after a stressful season full of training and working. I was just happy to take part in it and have a few drinks with the guys before dancing the night away. Looking back, I wasn’t that fed up with my choice of flat sandals, as even that was killing my feet when we got back to the hotel.

Even though I woke up with a killer headache, I wouldn’t have traded it if it meant changing the previous night's outcome. Despite the hangover, and having to fly home early, I felt refreshed and ready to take on the usually boring life at home again. It always filled me with energy if I could get out of the usual rhythm, and this time maybe the new contact in my phone helped too. To the stage that Seb was giving me curious looks when we got into the car already, and even more when just looking at the meaningless device made me smile a little wider.

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher fnafic #mick scumacher ff #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher oneshot #f1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 ff #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine #formula one #formula 1 #bydonaidk #requested fanfiction #requested fanfic #requested

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Riding On

Ch24: The Wheel Fell Off

Summary: There are some perks to having your own, personal mechanic…and Fliss isn’t the only one who notices.

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: So I gotta give a shout out to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork as she came up with a few gems of dialogue for this!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 23

And the wonder of it all is that you don’t realise how much I love you.

July 2020

Frank looked around at the team assembled in his office for the daily Stand-Up and nodded. “Okay, so I’ve nothing else to add, anyone got any other business before I call it?”

“Are we far behind on the repair time KPI for the Dolphin Tour fleet?” Mick, the finance manager looked at Frank and he shook his head.

“No, a day or so. Tim says he’ll have made the time back by Friday so we’re good.” Frank replied. “I’m not concerned. It shouldn’t have an impact on the incentivisation payments”

Mick nodded and Frank waited for a second. When no one else spoke, he dismissed the team and turned to his computer, leaning over to check the rest of the meetings and tasks for the day. He was midway through a very complicated spreadsheet detailing incoming repairs and timescales when his phone rang.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He greeted Fliss, leaning back in his chair a little. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, well, no. I was in the menage harrowing the surface and the wheel fell off the Quad Bike.”

“What do you mean the wheel fell off?” Frank pulled a face, scratching at his temple.

“Well, you know how it had four wheels? Now it has three,” came the sarcastic response.

“Dickhead.” Frank shot back and Fliss’ laughter hit his ears.

“Well, what did you think I meant?”

“You know what, I’m sorry I asked.” He rolled his eyes. “I suppose that means you want me to come fix it?”

“Yeah but it can wait until later if you’re busy, we managed to get it out of the way. Dad’s here snagging the extension to the tack room so he had a look and he says the bolt has sheared off so he can’t put it back on without a spare and I don’t know if you have any lying about in your Man Cave.”

“I will do from when we changed the wheels last year.” Frank clicked into his calendar to double check his schedule and smiled. “I’ve got no meetings this afternoon so I’ll come home at lunch. I can do the stock inventory at home.”

“My hero.”

“You know, if you carry on being sarcastic you can shove it up your ass.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic!” Fliss laughed. “You know I love the fact that you can fix all this shit for me.”

“No you love the fact I get filthy fixing all that shit for you.”

“Well yeah, that’s one upside to you being good with your hands.”

“One?” Frank grinned, leaning back in his chair. “So there’s more?”

“You know it Sailor. I gotta go babe, my next client is here but I’ll see you soon, and if you can’t don’t worry it’ll wait.”

“I’ll sort it. Love you, sweetheart.”

“You too.”

True to his word, Frank left the office at midday giving his team the instruction to call his cell if needed. Once home, he parked up, headed inside to change out of his office attire and pulled on a pair of worn, light jeans and a t-shirt. Once done, he grabbed his shades, went into his work shop and picked up his tool box along with a couple of spare bolts and wandered over to the yard. As he walked, he stopped for a moment to take in the building work and smiled. The extension to the office and tack room area was complete, giving Fliss a huge extra space to organise all her tack and equipment. The paint and plastering had been completed a few days before and the fittings had all been finalised yesterday which was what Bill was in there snagging, making sure it was all as they’d specified. The storage units and racks were all on order and due to arrive at some point tomorrow so Frank knew he’d most likely be busy fitting them in the evening, not that he minded. He loved being able to be involved and help out.

The diggers were in place, hollowing out the additional riding paddock at the bottom of the yard, this one slightly smaller than the current one, but would give more than enough additional space for people to ride, and the hedge along the bottom field had been cleared to lead out to the additional three acres of grassy space they had acquired, with a new gravel path to be laid as a walkway once the post and rail fencing was done. They’d also asked for trenches to be dug for water pipes to avoid the stable hands having to lug buckets and tanks up to the horses.

All in all, it was coming along really well and on schedule, the whole thing set to be completed by the beginning of August, well in time for their wedding, which was now just ten weeks away.

Frank made his way onto the main yard, Fliss waving at him from where she was teaching in the paddock and he waved back, wandering into the newly-constructed building as Bill was busy pointing to something on the wall.

“Yeah, that needs patching up.” He nodded as the guy besides him produced a packet of small stickers in the shape of yellow dots. He placed one on the area Bill was clearly not satisfied with and Frank looked around, noticing a number of them in various places in the room. Bill glanced over at him and smiled. “Hey, son.”

“How picky ya being, Bill?” Frank smirked and Bill let out a snort.

“Nah, the actual building and electrical fittings are all sound.” He gave a nod. “This is just cosmetic. The door frame is chipped, this plaster here is rough and there’s some patches where it’s too thin but other than that it’s good.”

“I’m glad you’re doing this as I wouldn’t have noticed any of that.” Frank mused, leaning in a little closer to examine what it was that Bill had spotted, and the older man shook his head.

“Well, I have over thirty years in the trade and my eyes are still pretty sharp.” Bill chuckled. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me she dragged you out of work to fix that Quad!”

“It’s no problem. Got nothing on this afternoon so I can work from home.”

“She’s got you wrapped round her little finger.” Bill shook his head and Frank arched an eyebrow.

“I could say the same for you.” He accused. “And with Mary too for that matter. And Verity. You’re a soft ass for your girls, Bill and you know it.”

Bill shrugged. “Guilty as charged. Some would argue I’m a soft ass for my boys too, all of you.”

Frank smiled back, his neck feeling a little warm as the sentiment of Bill’s words sunk in and he took a deep breath and jerked his head towards the door. “I best go do what I came to do before her majesty accuses me of slacking.”

Bill chuckled. “It’s in the barn,” he informed, waving him away and Frank emerged out into the hot, midday July sun and strode round to the rear of the yard. The Quad bike and offending wheel were indeed stored in the barn, which was slightly cooler than the outside and Frank dropped his tool bag to the floor before he knelt down to take a look. Bill had been right, the bolt had snapped but it was an easy fix.

Or so he thought.

Ten minutes later, after a lot of cursing, heaving and straining he’d finally managed to work the broken bolt loose. Standing up, he cracked his neck and back, tossing the broken item into his bag with a contemptuous glare as he wiped his sweaty forehead and reached for the wheel. Thankfully, that was easy and took him two minutes to fit, and once he was happy it was sorted he pushed the quadbike out to make sure it was on properly.

“Did you fix it?” A small voice asked him and Frank glanced up to see a little girl, who can’t have been much older than four, stood looking at him as she grinned, her dark pigtails poking out from underneath a cap.

“Sure did.” He smiled.

“It was funny when it fell off.” She giggled. “Fliss screamed and then she swore.”

Frank snorted. “Yeah, she has a potty mouth.”

“Alicia!” A woman spoke and Frank turned to glance up at a slim, dark haired lady, dressed in a pair of bright, beige jodhpurs and a tight, baby-blue polo shirt, both items of clothing looking like they’d never come into contact with a horse at all. “Don’t run off!”

“I just wanted to see if the wheel was back on.” The little girl protested and the woman rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She smiled, flashing off a set of perfect white teeth from behind a set of glossed lips. “She’s so nosey.”

“Kids for ya.” Frank smiled, shaking his head.

“Don’t I know it?” She laughed, a perfectly manicured hand flying to her chest as Frank straightened up, wiping his hands on the back of his loose fitting, slightly grubby jeans. At that point, Joanne came round the back of the barn and she smiled.

“You ready for your lesson, Leesh?” She looked at the little girl who gave a cheer. “Come on then, Fliss is waiting.”

“This is the best Phys-Ed ever!” The little girl grinned and shot off after Joanne.

“Phys Ed.” Her mom rolled her eyes. “Damned private tutor education. I swear, I could kill my ex-husband for suggesting this.”

“You don’t ride yourself then, I take it?” Frank asked and she shook her head.

“No, but when she decided she wanted to, I thought I should make an effort. I think it’s what they refer to in the business as possessing all the gear, but having no idea.”

Frank gave her a smile. “Yeah, well, when my girl decided she wanted to learn I wasn’t particularly keen either but, well, she’s hooked now.”

“Oh, your girl rides too?” The woman flicked her hair back over her shoulder and Frank studied her for a moment, her painted on eyebrows and heavily bronzed face arranged into a genuine look of interest. He realised then that she had absolutely no idea who he was. “Does she do that here?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” He chuckled.

“Huh.” The woman scanned him up and down a little, her eyes blatantly flicking to his left hand. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing coming here after all.”

Frank took a deep breath, recognising the flirting for what it was and he gave her a little smile. “Well, I better get on.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m sure Fliss has a list of a hundred other jobs for me to so.”

“So, are you like her mechanic or something?” The woman continued and Frank looked at her, his face remaining straight.

“Something.” He gave her another nod and moved to walk back onto the yard, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, well, we’re new here. We’ve not been here long. I’m Michelle.” She offered, following him.

“Nice to meet you, Michelle.” He looked back over his shoulder as she paused a few steps behind him.

“I err, I didn’t catch your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.” He stopped, turning to look at her, a smirk flicking across his face. She bit her lip and grinned back.

“Are you gonna?”

At that Frank let out a bark of a laugh. “Frank. Frank Adler.”

“Nice to meet you, Frank.”

“You too.” He smiled politely, as he slid his aviators back down from the top of his head onto his eyes, before he realised they were dirty. Taking them off he pulled the bottom of his shirt up slightly to wipe at the lens and when he returned them to his face he caught Michelle’s focus was still on his waist line. Her eyes flicked up to his and she shrugged a little.

“Sorry.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can’t blame a girl for looking, huh?”

Frank blinked, glad his eyes were hidden, a little shocked at her forthcoming nature, before he let out a snort.

“Well I’ve done my fair share of looking in the past, not any more though. My fiancée would have my balls hung up on the wall.”

“Oh, erm, sorry, I didn’t, wow.” She blinked and ran her hand through her glossy hair. “That’s embarrassing.”

Frank shrugged. “I’ve been in far worse situations, believe me.” With that he turned, and as he began to walk along the side of the paddock he looked up to see Fliss was watching him over the fence, her hands on her hips. Her eyes were hidden behind her wrap-arounds but he could tell from her demeanour she wasn’t best pleased. With a groan he approached the white post and rail that ran round the ménage and leaned on it.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Her tone was friendly enough, despite her frosty body language, as she walked over towards him. “You get it fixed?”

“Yeah, took me a while to get the bolt off but it’s all good.”

“Thanks.” She slid her hat up a little and wiped at her brow with the back of her arm. “Fuck, its warm today.”

“Well, take your clothes off.” Frank grinned. “It’ll help you cool down.”

“Pervert.” She snorted, before she nodded behind him. “I see you met Kim.”

“Kim?” Frank frowned. “She said her name was Michelle.”

“Yeah, but Joanne calls her Kim Kardashian.” Fliss wrinkled her nose. “On account of the botox and fake boobs.”

“You two are bitches.” Frank scoffed and Fliss shrugged, before he frowned. “Hang on, her boobs are fake?”

“Keep talking, Sailor.” Fliss slid her glasses down and glared at him over the rims and he let out a laugh.

“Baby, I’m joking.” He looked at her and she gave a hum as she pushed them back up her nose as he leaned over the fence a little. “Come ‘ere.”

Fliss stepped towards him and Frank dropped his head to press his lips to hers. “Love you, baby.” He ginned, flashing her his best cheeky grin.

“You can’t get round me that easy.” She shot back and Frank shrugged.

“Who says I’m trying to get round you?”

“I know you, Adler.” She scoffed, stepping back. “Look, I gotta get on so I’ll see you at home. You wanna pick Alex up tonight?”

“Sure, I’ll get him. Is Mary getting the bus home from Summer Camp?”

“Yeah, I told her one of us would pick her up but she insisted.” Fliss shrugged and Frank smiled.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.”

“Yeah, love you.”

“You too.”

*****

It was gone five before Fliss had finished at the yard. She’d hardly had time to breathe, let alone think about what she’d seen that morning, but that said, it was there, nagging in the back of her brain. She bid Joanne a good night, before she headed down the little path to the house. She was hot, sticky, uncomfortable and ready for a cool shower and a very large glass of white wine. As she walked down the drive, she passed her newly acquired white Hyundai SUV and stopped as she caught her reflection in the tinted rear mirror.

“Oh, Jesus.” She mumbled, moving closer to take a better look. Her skin was the colour of a fucking beet, her hair was all over the place from where she’d removed her cap and tossed it on her desk, her polo shirt was full of all sorts of stains and she was pretty sure she could smell herself and her riding britches were hung a little low on her hips, her soft stomach visible beneath the tight cotton of her top.

And then, from nowhere, came the image of fucking Michelle and her fucking size two figure, with her fucking perfect tits, model smile, stupidly glossy hair, and impeccable eyebrows and straight nose…

Fliss hastily pulled her pony tail out, fluffed out her sweat-damp hair and retied it, before she smoothed down her top as best she could and headed into their yard and through to the utility room, Thor trotting behind her.

“Hey!” Frank greeted her from where he was led on the rug, building some form of tower out of a set of large, brightly coloured blocks as Alex sat next to him, his little hands curling round a few of the bricks. The baby looked round and made an excited noise at the sight of his momma, and shuffled a little onto his knees and hands, crawling towards her.

“Frank, I stink.” She held her hands up in warning and Frank hastily rose, quickly picking Alex up off the floor before he could get much further towards her.

“A little dirt won’t hurt him.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, but I look and feel like I’ve been rolling on the muck heap all day so I’m going straight for a shower.”

Frank chuckled as she gave Alex a quick kiss on the head, moving out of his way before he could grab hold of her. “Well, I think you wear the dirty, stable hand look well, Honey.”

“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back down in ten, do you mind starting dinner? I was gonna do a quick chicken salad.”

“Course.” Frank nodded, looking at her for a moment and she simply smiled back.

She could feel Frank’s eyes burning into her back as she headed out of the family room into the hallway, trudging up the stairs. As soon as she was in their bedroom she stripped off her sticky, dirty clothes, tossed them onto the floor and climbed straight into the shower, turning it to an adequate temperature. Tipping her face up into the stream she let the lukewarm water cool her slightly, as she blinked back tears of frustration.

Michelle had at least had the good grace to look a little sheepish when she’d realised exactly who Frank was, but fuck, it had still pissed Fliss off to the point she’d wanted to smash her face straight into the floor. And more to the point, Fliss felt annoyed that it had riled her the way it had. It wasn’t exactly like it was an unusual occurrence, everywhere they went Frank seemed to attract female attention, he was gorgeous, but today had been on her home turf, somewhere she was Queen Bee, and to have someone else buzzing around her hive in such a way made her feel uneasy.

Real uneasy.

With a deep breath she washed her hair, sorted herself out and turned off the shower before she wrapped herself in a towel and headed back into the bedroom. As she was brushing out her hair, her phone went off and she picked it up, snorting at the message from Steve which showed a baby-grow with the words, “party at my crib, 3am, bring a bottle,” on the front. She sent him a quick response, pondering for a moment at just how fast Sian’s latest pregnancy seemed to have gone, she was approaching her sixth month now, and seemed to be glowing just as she had with the twins. Mary had been very happy when they’d announced they were expecting another boy, declaring proudly that made her Bill’s only granddaughter, something which, according to her, made her special.

And of course, none of them had corrected her, because it was the truth.

Tapping her nails lightly against the surface of the vanity unit, Fliss scrolled down to her message conversations and found the one to Bonnie, sending her a quick text to ask if she was free. She set about her quick face care routine, before she braided her damp hair, and then her phone began to ring.

“Hey!” Bonnie greeted her. “I’m driving so thought I’d call you…erm, I’m not doing anything in particular, why?”

“Well, I know Si’s outta town on business so I wondered if you fancied company for a few hours?” Fliss replied, keeping the details as sketchy as she could. “Me and a bottle of white? God knows I could do with one after today.”

“That bad huh?” Bonnie chuckled. “Sure why not. I’m not working tomorrow after all. Did I tell you I had many weeks off?”

“You might have mentioned it.” Fliss replied, laughing a little. “You teachers have an easy ride.”

“Fuck you.” Bonnie shot back and Fliss snorted.

“I’m joking, well I’ve no lessons until later tomorrow so I can have a few.” Fliss scratched at her temple. “What time works for you?”

“Well, I’m just on my way to have dinner at my mom’s so, I can pick you up on the way back?” Bonnie offered. “Be about seven ish?”

“Perfect.” Fliss smiled.

“Awesome. We can get down to some Hen Party planning!” Bonnie’s voice was laced with excitement. “I found this awesome villa in Miami that will accommodate everyone.”

“Can’t wait to see it.” Fliss smiled.

After a little more conversation, Fliss placed her phone back down and dressed in a pair of denim shorts, a khaki green boat necked short-sleeved top and shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops. She took another look in the mirror, scowling once more at her reflection, before she rolled her eyes and headed downstairs.

She walked into the family room and smiled as she saw Mary was sat on a stool at the island whilst Alex was sat in his high chair, munching on a piece of cucumber. Frank was busy tossing things into a salad bowl, and he turned to smile at her as she greeted them all, dropping a kiss to Mary’s head, then Alex’s in turn.

“Feeling better?” Frank asked as she slid her arms round his waist, pressing her face into his t-shirt.

“Yeah, much. God, it was disgustingly hot out there today.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing I don’t miss about working on boats, the lack of air conditioning.” Frank chuckled as she stepped back and moved to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine.

“My face feels burnt, but I don’t know how that’s possible.” She shook her head, thanking Frank as he reached into the cupboard and pulled down a glass for her. “I had a cap and shades on.”

“It doesn’t look too red.” He looked at her and she took a large gulp of wine, giving a satisfied sigh.

“Been waiting for that all afternoon.” She closed her eyes, savouring the taste before she opened them again. “Oh, that reminds me, I’m going over to Bonnie’s later, just for a couple of hours. Hen Do planning, that okay?”

“Course it is.” Frank nodded. “You want me to drop you off?”

“No, she’s at her mum’s so she’s going to come get me. I can Uber back.”

“I’ll pick you up.” Frank looked at her. “We can take the kids and Thor down to the beach for a little flashlight walk on the way back.”

“Flashlight walk?” Mary suddenly spoke, excitement lacing her tone. “The last time we did that it was so cool, we saw all those hermit crabs and the dolphins!”

“Don’t be so nosey.” Frank looked at her and she shrugged.

“You weren’t exactly whispering.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to Fliss who chuckled. “Sure, sounds good. I won’t be long, just a few hours.”

Frank shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, not like Mary needs to be up early and Alex will probably sleep the entire time anyway if he’s in the carrier.”

She gave him a small nod before she set about helping Frank with their dinner. It wasn’t long before it was ready, and they decided to eat outside. Mary chatted away, filling them all in on what she’d done at Summer camp, Frank listening, but all the time keeping one eye on Fliss who seemed to be taking it all in, but wasn’t saying much.

They finished, cleared their dishes away and Mary headed upstairs for a little while, whilst Fliss took Alex for his bath before she brought him back down, ready for bed to give him his bottle which Frank had ready.

She passed him over as Frank made his way to the sofa, dropping down to feed their baby, and Fliss watched for a moment, before her phone beeped.

“Bonnie’s outside.” Fliss stuck it back in her pocket and turned to Frank as he gently shifted Alex so he was a little more comfortable, his small hands curled around the bottle as he drank his milk.

“She not coming in?”

“No point, we’re only going straight back out.”

“Right.” Frank nodded as glanced back down at Alex. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking up at her and Fliss nodded back, a little too quickly, the way she always did when she was trying to hide something and Frank took a deep breath. “Liss…”

“I’m fine.” She shook her head. “Just a little wiped after today, that’s all.” Frank sighed and Fliss narrowed her eyes as she turned towards the kitchen. “Don’t sigh at me like that.”

“I’m not sighing at you like anything.” He replied as she pulled out a bottle of wine to take with her. “Just wish you’d tell me what the problem is.”

“I don’t have a problem.” Fliss rolled her eyes. “I’m just going to Bonnie’s for a few hours. Is my life that sad that whenever I socialise it always has to be because I have a problem?”

“I didn’t say that.” Frank replied, calmly.

“Good, because that’s not why I’m going.”

Knowing he was beat, and that if he pushed it any further they were going to end up in a full scale argument, Frank nodded. “Okay then. Have fun, call me when you’re done.”

Fliss blinked, almost as if she was waiting for him to push her again, before she simply shrugged and leaned over to gently run her finger down Alex’s chubby cheek. She then turned to Frank gave him a quick kiss.

“Love you.” He pressed his lips to hers a little deeper, before she stepped back and he was pleased to see her smiling.

“Love you too.”

Frank watched her go, taking a deep breath as he glanced back down at his son. A few minutes later, Mary bounded into the room and Frank looked up at her.

“Did you hear back from the vets, you know about Cleo?” She asked.

“Yup.” Frank grinned, “wanna read the email?”

“Dur!” She grinned and Frank pulled his phone out form his pocket, scrolling with one hand to the email that had arrived earlier that afternoon before he handed it to her.

“Dear Mr Adler,” Mary read, “I’m pleased to inform you that Sandybrook Cleopatra has passed her five-stage-vetting, bla bla bla,” she skipped on a few lines, “negative worm count, negative for equine influenza, rhino-erm, what’s that?”

“Pneumonitis” Frank read as she turned the screen to him. “I’ve got no idea, some disease, obviously.”

“And Streptococcus Equi, oh I know that one. That’s strangles.” Mary nodded.

“Whatever you say, Stack.” Frank smiled.

“As such, please see attached the completed and fully executed Export Health Certificate. Upon arrival in the USA, your animal will require a further three days quarantine which you must organise ….bla bla bla!” Mary grinned up at him as she handed him his phone back. “So that’s it?”

“Yup!” Frank nodded, as he glanced down at Alex who was now turning away from his bottle, signalling he was done. ”Everything’s done, Jo’s sorted the stuff with Department of Agriculture at this end, el ponio is being collected by the UK transporter tomorrow morning and will be on a flight later that evening.” He paused to rearrange Alex over his shoulder to burp him. “So, if all goes according to plan, she’ll be arriving here after her quarantine mid-afternoon on Fliss’ birthday.” He nodded, before he mumbled. “Thirteen thousand bucks lighter.”

“Thirteen thousand!” Mary spluttered. “Holy shit!”

“Hey, watch your mouth.” Frank looked at her sternly as Alex gave a loud burp. Frank turned his head to look at him. “Better out than in, Bean.”

“Sorry but, Dad, that’s a lot of money. I thought they did you a deal and knocked half off her price because it was Fliss?”

“They did.” He shrugged as he stood and carried Alex over to his pack and play. “She still cost me three. The rest is the cost of the vetting and the transport. But, Poppa B and Nanny V have said they only want half back and Uncle Steeb is chucking in a couple of hundred towards it, so it’s kind of like a joint present.”

“She’s worth it!” Mary grinned and Frank chuckled, heading to kitchen area.

“The horse or Fliss?”

“Mom, of course.” Mary scoffed, hopping up onto a stool at the breakfast bar.

“She sure is.” Frank agreed as he opened the fridge. “But I’ll be telling her that’s her birthday this year, birthday next year, Christmas and first wedding anniversary present all rolled into one.”

“First anniversary?” Mary looked at him. “You ain’t even married yet!”

“I know but now I don’t have to think about buying her anything for like twelve months.” He shrugged, smirking to himself as he leaned down for a bottle of beer, knowing he was talking utter shit. There was no way that was gonna fly, and he didn’t even want to try for the simple reason he loved buying Fliss stuff that made her smile. Still, it was fun trying to watch Mary decide if he was joking or not.

“What about Mother’s Day?” She asked after a moment.

“She aint my mom,” Frank looked at her, “as the eldest the responsibility for that falls to you.” He twisted the lid off the beer as Mary narrowed her eyes. “You want a beer?” He waved the bottle at Mary.

“Really?” Her eyes grew wide.

“No, just wanted to see how much crap I could tell you that you’d actually believe.” He smirked. Mary blinked, before she let out a low groan, realising she’d been had.

“You’re such an idiot.” She shook her head, and Frank watched, chuckling to himself as she bent down, picked Fred up and stalked to her Den, Thor hot on her tail.

*****

“So, I thought,” Bonnie grinned, turning the laptop to face Fliss as they sat at her kitchen table, “that this one sounds perfect. It sleeps up to twelve, has a pool, hot tub, is a short walk to the beach, not far from down-town and also literally a five minute walk to the hotel we stayed in, where we can get a really good deal on a Day-Spa package. And, we can also get someone in on the Saturday to do a grill and cocktails for us, if that’s what you wanna do.”

Fliss gave a small smile, and Bonnie frowned. “Or, not. Sorry, is it not what you wanted? I thought-“ Fliss sighed, her hand laying on Bonnie’s arm. “No, that…” she took a deep breath and smiled, “it sounds perfect, Bonnie. Honestly it does.”

“So, why are you making me feel like I’ve given you a dog turd on a plate and told you it’s your dinner?”

At that Fliss choked on the mouthful of wine she’d taken and looked at her best friend. “You know, for a teacher, you really have a way with words.”

Bonnie chuckled, as Fliss shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s not you. I’m just feeling a little…actually, I don’t know what I’m feeling. Pissed off, maybe?”

“Why, what’s happened?” Bonnie looked at her.

“Just…oh, you know what, it’s nothing.” Fliss brushed it off, necking the remainder of the wine in her bottle. “Can I get a top up?”

“I’ll get it.” Bonnie nodded and stood up from the table. A moment or two later she returned, and held the bottle up. “You speak, and I’ll pour.”

Fliss blinked, realising she wasn’t going to get away with it, so she sat back and blurted everything out. How she’d felt seeing Frank with the bimbo at the yard, how she was feeling a little insecure over how she looked because she’d once upon a time been that groomed, perfect looking person. And the more she talked, the more tumbled out about how she felt sometimes that Frank was way out of her league before Bonnie shook her head and cut her off.

“Are you listening to yourself?” She scoffed. “Jesus Christ, I haven’t heard anyone talk this much shit since Simon told me he was gonna run a marathon.”

“Hey, you asked what was wrong.” Fliss looked at her, her temper flashing a little. “I’m just telling you!”

“Yeah, and I’m just telling you, you’re a fucking moron.” Bonnie shook her head. “Fliss, you’re beautiful. Honestly, like, if I have kids and end up with your figure after, I’ll be over the moon. But that aside, Frank loves YOU. Not the way you look, or the way your hair is styled, or the way your eyebrows are painted on, he loves you.”

“I know.” Fliss nodded, sniffing a little. “I know he does, and I know he’d never cheat on me, I get that. I just, oh I don’t know, I don’t know why I feel like this. I can’t explain it.”

Bonnie side eyed Fliss as she topped her glass up before she sat down at the table, taking a deep breath. “Do you think this has anything to do with your ex?”

Fliss frowned, shaking her head. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, you told me he used to put you down about how you looked, compared you to other women he, well, fucked behind your back.” Bonnie trailed off. “I don’t know, I was just thinking maybe that deep in your mind, you kinda still think you should have a face caked in make-up and boobs pushed up to your chin.”

Fliss gave a snort at Bonnie’s description before she shrugged. “I don’t feel like that, not really. I’ve never bothered about anything like that whilst I’ve been with Frank. But something about her just pissed me off, more so because she was doing it right there in my own back fucking yard.” Fliss took another slug of wine before she bit her lip. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it’s because she reminds me of that past life.” She tapped her nails against her glass. “But, I was fucking miserable, and now I’m not, so why would I even bother about some bimbo flirting with my man? It’s not like he did anything or was gonna.”

“So, basically, we’ve come to the conclusion that this woman is a tramp and you’re an idiot.” Bonnie nodded and despite herself, Fliss laughed.

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Hmm,” Bonnie sipped her wine. “Okay, I’m glad we got that sorted.” She took another sip before she gently reached out and squeezed Fliss hand. “You got nothing to worry about. Frank adores you, to be honest, me and Simon always say it’s kinda gross the way he’s always like looking at you with stupid doe eyes or touching you whenever he can.”

Fliss smiled, a fond look crossing her face as she knew what Bonnie was saying was true. Any chance Frank got he would touch or cuddle her, and it was never in a dominant way like it had been with John, it was because he simply wanted to, it was his love language. “Yeah, he’s touchy.”

Bonnie smiled and sat back as Fliss took a deep breath. “But you should talk to him, tell him how you feel.”

Fliss shrugged. “Maybe, like you said, I’m being an idiot.” She gave her friend another smile before she nodded back towards the laptop. “But, now for the fun stuff. Show me what you got planned for our weekend of debauchery in Miami, Maid Of Honor!”

**** It was a little before ten when Fliss called Frank to say she was ready for pick up if he still wanted to come get her, which was a dumb question, because of course he did. He packed the kids into the car, and drove the fifteen minutes or so to Bonnie’s and Fliss clambered into the passenger seat, her cheeks flushed a little from the wine. After giving him a quick kiss, she turned to smile at Mary who beamed at her, her head torch already in position, Thor’s flashing light up collar sitting pretty around his neck as he perched in the middle seat between her and Alex who was in the baby chair, fast asleep.

They drove down to the Public Access, the same stretch of beach they would be married on in a matter of weeks, and all climbed out, Frank gently settling Alex in the carrier that hung over his chest before he offered Fliss his hand and they headed onto the moonlit sand. They walked in silence for a while, the air finally cooled enough to be enjoyable, Mary running ahead of them, Thor gambolling in and out of the waves, giving a little bark of enjoyment as he chased the surf.

“He’s gonna be soaked when he gets back in the truck.” Frank groaned and Fliss laughed.

“Should have come in mine, he could have sat in the trunk.”

“He can ride home on the flatbed.”

“Don’t you dare.” Fliss nudged Frank with her elbow and he chuckled, his arm sliding round her shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her head.

“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you now?” Frank asked as they continued to stroll up the beach.

“Nothing.”

“Lissy.” Frank spoke sternly and stopped to face her. She let out a sigh, her hand reaching up to smooth over Alex’s hair as he lay slumped against his dad’s chest.

“I’m being an idiot, I know that. But seeing you before, at the yard I just…”

It was Frank’s turn to sigh as he shook his head. “Honey, I-“

“No, I know what you’re gonna say but, I just, well, she was there looking like a fucking model and then there was me, and I used to be that size, and I used to be that person, that looked half decent, you know? I can’t remember the last time I actually wore any form of make-up bar a bit of tinted moisturiser or mascara, or when I last straightened my hair, let alone painted on my damned eyebrows! And then she’s flirting with you flashing her perfect teeth, and her perfect fake boobs and her line free brow and plump lips, all full of fillers and botox and-“

“You want Botox?” Frank cut her off mid rant and Fliss let out a groan.

“No I don’t want fucking Botox, Frank!”

“Well shut up talking about it then!” He laughed. “Look, I don’t want that fake shit either. Do I look like the type of guy who wants someone who is just one step away from being a Malibu Barbie? Fuck that!”

“You look like the type of guy who should want a Malibu Barbie.” Fliss replied, somewhat sullenly. “You don’t see the looks you get every time we go out.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You know, girls like that are ten a penny down on the boardwalk. But you’re the one I took sailing.” “Thanks a backhanded compliment.” Fliss narrowed her eyes and Frank laughed, cupping her face in his hands.

“Look, Sweetheart, I love you.” He shrugged simply. “Because you’re beautiful, inside and out and because you’re my Lissy.” He pulled her face up to meet his, placing a soft kiss to her lips, his nose sliding against hers.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I wasn’t mad at you, just feeling a little low I suppose.”

“You know I get it too.” Frank smiled, dropping his hands to take hers. “You think I don’t notice the looks you get when we go out?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Frank assured her as he entwined their fingers together. “But I don’t care. Because I know you’re mine, and I’m yours. So please don’t think for a second I’d even think about anyone else that way.”

He dropped a soft, slow, deep kiss to her lips and when she pulled back, she smiled.

“Sorry, I know, I was being an idiot.”

“Yeah.” He nodded in agreement and she chuckled as he returned his arm to round her shoulders and they continued walking, the sound of the waves against the shore a perfect back drop to Mary’s excited shouts and Thor’s little barks.

“When you said you said you wouldn’t think about anyone…” She started and Frank was pleased to note her voice was full of mischief, his playful Lissy was back.

“Well,” he wrinkled his nose, shrugging a little, “maybe if Rihanna came knocking then I’d have to give it some serious consideration.”

“To be fair I’d give it some serious consideration, too.” Fliss mused and Frank arched a brow, teasingly as he looked down at her.

“Yeah?”

“Damned straight. I’d do her, she’s hot.” Fliss shrugged and Frank’s face split into a dirty grin as he stopped them both, using the arm round her shoulder to spin her into him as best he could with their son placed between them.

“Now there’s an image!” His voice was loaded with suggestiveness and Fliss laughed as his lips brushed hers.

“Pervert.” She whispered, her hand once more sweeping over the back of their sleeping baby’s head.

“Only for you.” He smiled, before he looked up, considering something. “And Rihanna.”

**** Chapter 25

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #frank adler fanfiction #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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sibunaranks · 3 years ago

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HOA Characters and the pets they would have....

Nina - It’s confirmed Nina had Guinea Pigs when she was little named Bubbles and Squeak. I totally love this for her as I too was a guinea pig owner. I could see Nina being pretty pet free until she has children. When she does have children I could see her getting two more guinea pigs for her kids as family pets. She suggests some Egyptian names but is shot down and they end up with the name “Lovie” and “Cuddles” . She likes how sweet and calm they are and forgot just how much she loved them.

Fabian - Fabian’s family never had the most money, and what they did had went to things more important than a pet. Despite proving how responsible he was, he was never given a pet. He ends up making his own Pet rock named Albert. He brings it to Amun and is immediately made fun of for it. He tells everyone he threw Albert away but secretly he’s in the back of his sock drawer. Fabian never grows up to have any other pets due to his devotion to his work.

Amber - It is confirmed Amber had a Dalmation named Precious. She got Precious for her birthday and loved her dearly. Amber also has the cat in the house for a while. Amber stumbles upon an adoption event later in life and spots a cat that looks just like the one she cared for at Anubis. She adopts her and names her Victoria after Victoria Beckham and loves the cat. She loves her so much in fact she makes her her own Instagram account.

Alfie - Alfie was never allowed a pet with such strict parents. He was also allergic (confirmed) to cats and dogs which did not help his case. He’s pretty much allergic to anything with fur. He and Willow each get fish when they go to college and he realizes caring for animals is a lot of work (Willow is a god-sent for always checking with him that his fish is fed). He names his fish Sparky to match Willow’s fish’s name (listed below). Later in life he gets a bearded dragon as a good solution to his allergies and enjoys him very much. He names him Houdini after his love of magic and even includes him in some tricks.

Willow - Willow wished for cocker spaniels to talk because her family had one. She was an old dog but Willow loved her dog Lucy very much. Willow had a fish tank full of exotic fish with amazing colors as a kid, and was very good at caring for them. She is the one to show Alfie how to care for a fish in college when they get matching fish and names her Sparkles. Willow eventually gets a parrot, loving their colors and spends her whole life with her beloved bird Sunny.

Patricia - Patricia and Piper’s parents decided they’d get their daughters a pair of kittens when they were around 9 years old. Piper was more excited than Patricia but Patricia grew to adore the cat. Both were black cats who were brother and sister. Piper got the girl and named her Viola after the new instrument she was dabbling in. Patricia named her’s (the boy cat) Salem, thinking a witchy name was fitting for the goth girl. She is totally a cat person and gets multiple cats later in her life naming them all after witchy things (Jinkx,Voodoo,and Hex to name a few) and to honor her first cat even though they aren’t all black cats. (She also still has her invisible dog sniffles but she won’t tell anyone about that)

Eddie - Eddie had a dog growing up. His name was Rex and he died a few years before Eddie came to Anubis. Rex was a big dog mutt Eddie got to pick out from the shelter as a young boy, his mom thinking it would help fill the hole that was left by his father leaving. He of course also co-owns all of Patricia’s future cats and loves them but is forever a dog lover due to his first pet. As soon as him and Patricia’s kids start asking for a dog he jumps on board and they wear her down. They let the kids go to the shelter, just like Eddie had, that being important to him and they pick out a Pittie-mix and name him Sammy. Sammy gets along really well with the whole family include the current cat. Sammy even wears down Patricia and while she still prefers cats likes her new dog too.

Mick - This man can barley take care of himself. He had a fish once and it died soon after. He avoids pets due to this and isn’t even that big of a fan of animals to begin with anyways. Pets don’t seem to like him anyways. Fabian suggested he try a rock but he shut that down quickly. Amber suggested he get a low maitentence plant but even something as low maitenence as a cactus was killed by his hands. bringing it up just makes him mad. He thinks it’s like a curse he can’t care for things.

Mara - Mara has let down (confirmed) her big cute dog! She takes let down with her to college as she lives off campus in her Sophmore year. When let down dies she takes it really hard and begins to volunteer at the local shelter. She ends up adopting multiple dogs throughout her life. Big, small, old, young. She claims that dogs don’t let you down, and so always having one (sometimes she even has two) is important. Not to mention the scientific benefits for humans owning a dog.

Joy - Joy adopts a pair of bunny’s at the fair one year. She names them Romeo and Juliet and loves them more than life. She has social media for them and is a huge advocate for free roaming your bunnies. She even has leashes she takes them outside on. She spends more time on them then most other things.

Jerome - Jerome has a family cat (semi-confirmed) . It’s really Poppy’s cat she had found out in the bushes by the family home. She names her Fluffy and is her best friend. Fluffy however dislikes Jerome for some unknown reason. He tries to tell his family the cat is evil but they don’t believe him despite the scratch marks. Poppy wouldn’t care regardless. Jerome said he wouldn’t ever get anything with claws again and he never did. He’s not big on animals.

KT - KT goes back to America and her and her girlfriend live in a tiny farm house. KT has a horse, having ridden as a child, that she named Robby after her great grandfather. She also has some chickens and a collie her girlfriend named June (after both pride month and the month they got her). It’s small and quaint and KT loves it as it’s a nice medium to her girlfriend’s country roots and her suburban roots to just meet in the middle.

#this is silly #hoa headcanons #hoa #house of anubis

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cruesuffix · 1 month ago

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coffee shop au you say? please tell me more 👀

oh robin, tbh i haven’t really worked this idea out at all, i just know i want to make a coffee shop au with these boys one day BUT now that you’ve mentioned it (and thank you so much for doing so!!)… if i really think about it, i already have a lot of ideas flowing in.

like… there’s many angles i’d like to take this:

- maybe three members work at a local coffee shop. they don’t necessarily want to, but they’re about to get kicked out of their shared apartment and they don’t want to go homeless. while all of this is going on, they’re all starting a band together and they desperately need a new guitarist.

- that’s when mick pops in. he’s a new customer, who randomly shows up one day and accidentally spills his coffee on himself before he can leave the shop. maybe he was in a rush or something (probably late for a band meeting).

- tommy would totally give him another one for free (while telling him to keep it a secret). because of the thrilling customer service, mick finds himself coming back. soon, he’s a regular customer who becomes very acquainted with the much too cheery barista who keeps trying to offer him free food and drinks (this is like pre motley crue so mick is still that broke, much too skinny guy…just without the ginger hair and moustache).

- when nikki notices tommy’s new friend he asks him if he’s in a band (mick had that black hair and all leather combo by then…kinda like how he looked when he was in vendetta). nikki ends up being micks least favourite barista, but he naturally ends up agreeing to audition for his stupid loser band (only because tommy’s in it as well and…as much as he hates to admit it, he kinda likes the kid).

-just thought of an little something: because mick and nikki have this weird beef thing going on, i can see tommy staying home cause he got sick or something and nikkis taking his place. on the clock mick walks in and notices mr sunshine isn’t there and in his place is his mortal enemy. he immediately questions why Tommy isn’t there and nikki has to tell him why (and also tells him to stop being all obsessed). if mick refuses to be served by him nikki would have to remind him that it’s either vince or him so mick just sticks to grumbling about nikki not making his order like tommy does (to which nikki practically yells “im following the recipe, how can i possibly fuck it up!”).

- oh and vince is there too…he messes up all the orders he gets and somehow never gets fired. mick sorta avoids him for some reason, no one knows why and they refuse to ask him.

or maybe they all work at the coffee shop and are also all in a band together….them having to navigate being in a band and also working some regular job together. i don’t know…it all depends on what pairing i wanna work with to be honest, cause if it was nikkimick i could make them rival baristas or just have them hate each other for a bit.

if it was vincemick i have an idea of them having to close the store together and it’s all awkward cause they barely talk to each other, but now they have to work together to do the most tedious task of closing an entire store by themselves.

and that first idea was already extremely tommymick centric tbh. or…if anyone else wanted to take this idea over they could make it whatever pairing they like best tbh! (also i loved how i lied about not having any ideas idk where the fuck i pulled these outta!) thanks for the ask, and also I hope you enjoy this very half assed strung together idea brainstorming thing!!

#mötley crüe #mick mars #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #crüe headcanons #maybe i will think about writing a lil coffee shop au idk #like i didn’t have a single idea when i reblogged that last post but now?#let’s see what my fingers type out on the notes app #also if anyone else wants to use these pls go for it i promise it’ll be better than what i had in mind #lily of the asks

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fan-a-tink · 11 months ago

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Young Royals S3 thoughts

EP3

The queen saying it’s all exaggerated and she’s fine, and then immediately breaking down again… not a good sign. Willeeeeeeeee

Wille holding his knees in the fountain with the credits over it in light purple - poetic cinema. But also, aaaaahhhhhh!!!

„Why did you think I didn’t tell you anything?“ - Yes, Simon, please tell her. I really really want you guys to work this out

Those graduation caps look ridiculous

I’m sorry but every time Vincent opens his mouth I want to tell him to shut up. This man annoys me so so much.

Simon looks so rough, like he hardly slept. I fucking hate everyone who makes him feel that way.

@bjarsta.andreas who the fuck are you and what is you fucking problem.

I hate it when they both don’t listen to each other, when they’re so wrapped up in their own problems they don’t see that the other one needs them right now.

It feels a little bit as if Simon realizes for the first time what Wille is going through every day and what he is taking on now.

„All I want is to be with you.“ Phew…

Those girls mock singing Simon’s song can fuck right off. YOU are embarrassing!

Boris & August wheheeee :) I’m glad they’re getting a kind of reconciliation

Simon turns down Pabellón. This is wrong, this is all wrong. Someone give my boy a hug and help him!!!

Is it bad that I think August is handling the situation really well? Like, he’s really trying…!

„Are you involved? … Of course you’re involved.“ - Wille, please, you don’t know what happened. You’re being unfair right now. But then again, if I were him, I’d probably think the same about August.

Siiiimooooooooon….! I’m so so sorry, you don’t deserve this… aaahhhhhhh I can’t handle seeing you crying like this…

Cheeky make out session in the music room :))) they’re trying to trick me into thinking it’s all fine and then they’ll fight in there again. I don’t trust you!

But also love them smacking their lips and acting all innocent when they’ve been caught :) „You two keep rehearsing…“ hahahahaaa

VINCENT HONESTLY YOU NEED TO JUST SHUT UP AND LEAVE SIMON ALONE! Why is Wille not standing up for Simon here?

I feel like Felice is not getting enough screen time. And something tells me she will not just hush everything up but speak her mind! You go, girl!

I feel like Wille could check in on Felice a little bit more. And she on him. He shouldn’t lean only on Simon, he needs his friends too!

Sara laughing and smiling with her dad in the car. Healing. This makes my heart happy.

I bet August thinks he’ll go and sweep Sara off her feet like Prince Charming. Even taking the bus, wow wow… I can already tell you it’s not going to work…

The way her face falls as soon as she sees him….

„August Horn of Årnäs“ - „Micke Eriksson of Bjärstadt“ hahahaaaaaa this will never not be funny

„Better to have a dad with bad episodes than no dad at all“. Ouch, that hurt.

Surprise, surprise, it didn’t work. But also, it’s good that you’re apologizing and showing that you want to make amends, but you’re only talking about yourself! Have you ever thought about asking Sara how she is, or what she thinks and wants?

Sad August is making me sad. What is the world coming to?

The. Baking. Scene. fljkh esPOUFRHQasd mknöwejfnb lhbsdyxkjvcnpq wjbfeasdyx

Not Sara zooming in on the first picture in weeks in which Felice is smiling. They need to taaaaalk!

I feel like Micke deserves some credit for his parenting this season. He is actually doing a decent job at supporting Sara. Just really hope it doesn’t go downhill.

Wille singing is hilarious :))

That song they play when the torch procession comes is a vibe though :)

„You can just stand there and feel things and be open and vulnerable.“ - „Yeah but I wasn’t this time. It’s getting harder to stay relaxed when I sing. It’s not as much fun anymore.“ - I am broken. Simon losing the joy in singing. That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.

Sara is so brave for going there. I would have run away before anyone could have seen me.

That kiss by the window in the candlelight is gorgeous.

I love the music over that whole sequence. And the ‚I love you’s at the end. Can we please just pause this here? I don’t need any of the drama, I just want them to be able to stay happy forever.

Ohhhh nooo, Micke! I don’t know if I believe him or not. Please don’t let Sara down again.

„Erik could never have done that to me.“ Oh Wille, you don’t know. You don’t know what he did. And part of me hopes you’ll never find out.

„So how can I ever trust anyone?“ - „You can trust me.“ - This is going to go wrong, I can feel it.

Simon wrapping himself in his purple hoodie. And a woman with purple hair coming up to him with her son. Alt er love.

I really really want Simon to take that picture so that he can feel that people appreciate him. But also, don’t post it on instagram!!! This will only lead to problems. Pleeeeaasseee.

Maybe it would be better if Farima talked to Simon…? Then Wille wouldn’t have to constantly police his boyfriend like that.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh noooooooooooo!!!! Siiiimmoooooooon!!!!

Uuuughhh, whenever this show gives you like a crumb of happiness, it takes it away just as fast. Like Simon was just starting to feel a little better about the online hate and their position in the world, and then - snap - someone throws a stone at his house. He just wants to be safe and be with his boyfriend. Why does the world have to be so cruel?

#young royals #young royals season 3 #young royals spoilers #young royals s3 spoilers #yr s3 spoilers #yr season 3 spoilers

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deancodedcastielenby · 4 years ago

Text

It started out with a XX

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I am putting Tags first so I don’t forget like the horrible trash panda I am: @casmick-consequences , @proudcasgirl , & @paintdriesfaster You have asked to be tagged, or for Casmick you are the reason this is here. The Date Continues This is 100% unbeta’d and I am litterally on my work computer writing in between phone calls so. I apologize for any spelling errors or punctuation since I am a trash panda. XX love you all, enjoy

Castiel is under the impression that Mick Davies is an interesting human. The man seems charmed by many of the words that Castiel uses, and has no problems showing his obvious interest. There have been other humans in his time in this vessel that have shown a reaction to his person, and now that this body is his and no longer Jimmy’s it is an interesting notion that he would be coveted carnally from anyone. Still, Mick is interesting and the conversation that he engages in with Castiel over a shared dinner have kept Castiel enthralled at least. The dinner was odd, it still tasted like molecules, but Mick made a point to have him try a bite or two of everything and explain how he found the flavors.

The white sauce on the noodles, for example, Castiel knew was called Alfredo sauce, but Mick described it much better before he had Castiel try a bite off his fork. There was flavor that he hadn’t expected, on top of the molecules, but perhaps being described before eating was the difference. No one had ever thought to try that before. The breaded mushrooms were an odd texture that Castiel was not sure that he liked, but Mick did say that sometimes the dipping sauces made them better, and the sweet dessert was delicious, and tasted faintly of coffee. That was a beverage he missed from being human.

As far as humans go, Mick was charming and rather handsome, though at this point Castiel realized he had a type. Claire had pointed it out when he described Mick to her before the date. His eyes may not be the right shade of green that he prefers, but they are quite beautiful none the less. In fairness Mick had also dressed up for the occasion and was wearing an outfit similar to his own, though he was wearing brown. That was a brown slacks and waistcoat over a light blue shirt and a matching brown blazer. The overall effect was very charming, and very appealing. Castiel had on occasion browsed through different magazines and had seen similar outfits on different models, so he assumed it was a fashion thing, but Mick was able to pull it off nicely. Of course there was a few glasses of wine with dinner, and Castiel was able to sip them carefully during conversation. It was true he had a rather high tolerance for alcohol, so it wasn’t that he needed to, but he had tried to keep pace with Mick to make sure that he blended in. Over all Castiel would say that the date was a success. Many times throughout the conversation he was able to pick up on the different flirtations that Mick was sending his way, and apparently he was sending back. Once or twice he was able to say something that made Mick laugh loudly and give him a wide smile that made his face mirror one in return. To say that dinner was pleasant would be an understatement. After dinner Mick asked if he would like to take a walk and continue their conversation. It was getting darker outside, but still there was plenty of light with the street lamps and there was such a quaint little park they could walk around. It was simple to agree, and so they left hand in hand after Mick paid for their meal. “I insist Castiel, honestly it was mostly my meal anyway.” That was another strange feeling, being hand in hand with Mick. There was a brief moment where he remembered Daphne, she would hold his hand sometimes when they were out and about, but he never had this strange intimacy with another person after his memories came back. The hand in his own was not a dainty one, it was on the larger side with blunt fingers and the cool metal of a ring on his pinky finger. Over all he experience was new. At one point Mick had released his hand, and of course Castiel frowned when he missed it immediately, only to have him slip Castiel’s hand in the crook of his elbow and seemingly step closer. “I am honestly surprised that you came out with me this evening.” They were on their second loop of the small park, their gait was slow and measured to eat up more time. Almost as if neither one was quite ready for the evening to end. “It seemed as though you were very much in the Winchester’s pockets and that they did not like me very much.” “They do have a negative disposition to the British Men of Letters, Arthur Ketch left a rather bad taste in their mouths and I do not blame them for that, however they are not my keepers and I am free to make opinions on other humans.” Ever the peace keeper, or so it seemed, Castiel tried for a neutral ground. That was until Mick barked out a bit of a laugh.

“I would suppose so, though not all of us Brits are quite like Ketch. I am hoping you would have a better opinion of me after our date. Perhaps I should inquire as to another?” It seemed the man was looking at Castiel out of the corner of his eye, which was odd, but it only took a moment to realize that he was asking Castiel out on another outing. This was courting wasn’t it? The odd human custom?

“I would not be against another outing, though I had thought you were to return to England soon.” The words were out before Castiel could reel them back, but they were true none the less. Mick did not know that Castiel could travel to England with just a thought, so it wasn’t that the distance was a problem. Castiel would just like to know where he stood, it was so hard to gage with Dean where exactly things lay between them when Dean was in denial and never spoke. Perhaps this was Castiel’s way of making sure that whatever this was with Mick, it was different. “I will have to return home eventually of course, but I would very much enjoy spending time with you whilst I can. Your conversation skills are spectacular, it is rather hard to have meaningful conversations about things anymore, and you are quite a sight to look at as well so that is a bonus for me.” These words were said with a smile and a pat to Castiel’s shoulder, “I am aware that our engagement here is limited, not just by time. I have eyes, I know I am not your first choice and that is fine with me, honestly. I just think that while I am here, I can show you what a relationship should be like, so that you know.” Stopping their circle of the park, they were in a bit of shadow of a corpse of trees but they could still see the stars if they were to look up. They didn’t. “I will not take advantage of you, or your kindness. I want us to be open and honest with each other, so that when I do have to return to England, we could still walk away as friends and you can come to me with anything. Though right now, I would very much like to kiss you if you would be amenable?” The words were honest and open, much like the expression that Mick was wearing. Mick wanted a relationship, in what ever capacity that he could while he was here that could translate to a great friendship when he left, and honestly what did Castiel have to loose? The want to experience something good and meaningful after watching the one he wanted jump into bed with countless others.... “I am amenable.” The response was gruff and quiet, almost an afterthought, though Mick had heard it if the wide smile on his face was anything to go by. Oh so gently one of Mick’s hands cupped the side of Castiel’s head and guided their lips together in a sweet and soft touch. The kiss itself was chaste, but it seemed to cause an ache somewhere in the pit of Castiel’s stomach. It was genuine intimacy and affection, something he never knew he honestly needed, but with the gentle press of lips it was something that he was honestly going to crave. After a moment or two of soft pressure Mick pulled back to gage the reaction on the angel’s face. “Well, no fireworks which is a shame, but I can live with that.” A slightly cocky smile lit the side of his mouth, “Unless you’d like another?” “I always expected that kisses would be... more than just a press of lips.” It wasn’t that Castiel hadn’t experienced kisses, because he had on a few occasions, namely with women. Though the thought made him tilt his head slightly and squint in confusion.

“Ah, you were expecting more passion and enthusiasm perhaps? What kind of Brit do you take me for, a savage? This is a first date after all, need to keep you on your toes and coming back for a second one.” There was something akin to mischief in Mick’s eyes before he laughed, “well I suppose one more couldn’t hurt.” With that he did pull Castiel’s head down once again to meet his lips, this time with a bit more of a firmer touch. The scrape of stubble against his skin was a bit firmer now, and he could actually feel it. After some maneuvering to fit their lips just so, a hint of a tongue pressed against the seam of the angel’s lips and he opened to the onslaught of Mick’s rather talented tongue.

Unsure of exactly how long they stood there, in the slight shadow of the trees kissing quite like teenagers, they broke apart. A soft flush to Mick’s features made him more endearing in a way as he seemed to shiver and attempt to take a step back. It was a strange sensation feeling Mick release him, as it seemed that the hand that was not tangled into his hair had found his hip, not that he had noticed at the time. “Well now, that was... something else. Shall I return you home then Cinderella? Or is there a night in shining muscle around here somewhere waiting to whisk you away?” “I do know how to drive.” Something about the way that Mick said the words was unsettling, though Dean did tell him to call when he was ready to be picked up. Castiel was an angel of the lord and he could take care of himself.

“Of course you do, I never said you couldn’t. Perhaps you could walk me to my car then?” Mick gave a soft chuff and a slight bow of an apology holding out his elbow again. Castiel missed that strange closeness so he nodded and tucked his hand into the crook and walked Mick back to the restaurant and to his car. Luckily he did not see the Impala anywhere on their walk, and Castiel indulged Mick with another kiss at the car before watching him climb inside. “Do let me know when you are free for another Date.” Mick said after yet another soft press of lips before driving off and down the street. It was a few moments before Castiel moved and headed back to the park, keeping himself invisible from any kind of eyes until he was standing where he and Mick had been only a little while before. Pulling out his phone he sent off a text to Dean, letting him know that he was not going to need a ride home, nor would he be back that evening. There was far too much for the angel to think about at that moment, and far to much for him to replay to even attempt to be near Dean right now. Instead he found himself sitting on a bench in that park, staring at the emptiness of the night, not getting a reply from Dean at all, but that was fine. The hunter had probably fallen asleep anyway, it was better for him to get the rest than worry about Castiel.

#okay so it was shorter than I wanted it but full of fun #Casmick #cas x mick #long con still? who knows #date night #supernatural #Castiel #Mick Davies #just for fun #it started out with a XX

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swanlake1998 · 4 years ago

Link

Article: Five Pioneering Black Ballerinas: ‘We Have to Have a Voice’

Date: June 17, 2021

By: Karen Valby

These early Dance Theater of Harlem stars met weekly on Zoom — to survive the isolation of the pandemic and to reclaim their role in dance history.

Last May, adrift in a suddenly untethered world, five former ballerinas came together to form the 152nd Street Black Ballet Legacy. Every Tuesday afternoon, they logged onto Zoom from around the country to remember their time together performing with Dance Theater of Harlem, feeling that magical turn in early audiences from skepticism to awe.

Life as a pioneer, life in a pandemic: They have been friends for over half a century, and have held each other up through far harder times than this last disorienting year. When people reached for all manners of comfort, something to give purpose or a shape to the days, these five women turned to their shared past.

In their cozy, rambling weekly Zoom meetings, punctuated by peals of laughter and occasional tears, they revisited the fabulousness of their former lives. With the background of George Floyd’s murder and a pandemic disproportionately affecting the Black community, the women set their sights on tackling another injustice. They wanted to reinscribe the struggles and feats of those early years at Dance Theater of Harlem into a cultural narrative that seems so often to cast Black excellence aside.

“There’s been so much of African American history that’s been denied or pushed to the back,” said Karlya Shelton-Benjamin, 64, who first brought the idea of a legacy council to the other women. “We have to have a voice.”

They knew as young ballet students that they’d never be chosen for roles like Clara in “The Nutcracker” or Odette/Odile in “Swan Lake.” They were told by their teachers to switch to modern dance or to aim for the Alvin Ailey company if they wanted to dance professionally, regardless of whether they felt most alive en pointe.

Arthur Mitchell was like a lighthouse to the women. Mitchell, the first Black principal dancer at the New York City Ballet and a protégé of the choreographer George Balanchine, had a mission: to create a home for Black dancers to achieve heights of excellence unencumbered by ignorance or tradition. Ignited by the assassination of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., he founded Dance Theater of Harlem in 1969 with Karel Shook.

Lydia Abarca-Mitchell, Gayle McKinney-Griffith and Sheila Rohan were founding dancers of his new company with McKinney-Griffith, 71, soon taking on the role of its first ballet mistress. Within the decade, Shelton-Benjamin and Marcia Sells joined as first generation dancers.

Abarca-Mitchell, 70, spent her childhood in joyless ballet classes but never saw an actual performance until she was 17 at the invitation of Mitchell, her new teacher. “I’ll never forget what Arthur did onstage” she said of his Puck in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at New York City Ballet during a Tuesday session in January. “He made the ballet so natural. Suddenly it wasn’t just this ethereal thing anymore. I felt it in my bones.”

Marcia Sells, 61, remembered being 9 and watching with mouth agape when Abarca-Mitchell, McKinney-Griffith and Rohan performed with Dance Theater in her hometown, Cincinnati. “There in front of me were Black ballerinas,” Sells said during a video call in April. “That moment was the difference in my life. Otherwise I don’t think it would’ve been possible for me to think of a career in ballet.”

Shelton-Benjamin left her Denver ballet company, where she was the only Black dancer, turning down invitations from the Joffrey Ballet and American Ballet Theater, after reading a story about Dance Theater of Harlem in Dance magazine. Abarca-Mitchell was on that issue’s cover — the first Black woman to have that honor. At her Harlem audition, Shelton-Benjamin witnessed company members hand-dying their shoes and ribbons and tights to match the hues of their skin. Here, no traditional ballet pink would interrupt the beauty of their lines. “I had never seen a Black ballerina before, let alone a whole company,” Shelton-Benjamin, 64, said during a February Zoom meeting. “All I could think was, ��Where have you guys been?’”

Finding one another back then, at the height of the civil rights movement, allowed them to have careers while challenging a ballet culture that had been claimed by white people. “We were suddenly ambassadors,” Abarca-Mitchell said. “And we were all in it together.”

They traveled to American cities that presented such a hostile environment that Mitchell would cancel the performance the night of, lest his company feel disrespected. But they also danced for kings and queens and presidents. In 1979, a review in The Washington Post declared their dancing to be a “purer realization of the Balanchinean ideal than anyone else’s.” Their adventures offstage were similarly electric, like the night in Manchester when Mick Jagger invited them out on the town. “We walked into the club with him and everybody just moved out of the way,” Shelton-Benjamin said.

Cultural memory can be spurious and shortsighted. Abarca-Mitchell was the first Black prima ballerina for a major company, performing works like Balanchine’s “Agon” and “Bugaku” and William Dollar’s “Le Combat” to raves. In an April Zoom session she said she first realized how left out of history she was when her daughter went online to prove to a friend that her mother was the first Black prima ballerina. But all she found was the name Misty Copeland, hailed as the first. “And my daughter was so mad. She said: ‘Where’s your name? Where’s your name?’ It was a wake-up call.”

While Abarca-Mitchell paused to wipe her eyes, Shelton-Banjamin stepped in: “I want to echo what Lydia said. There was a point where I asked the women, ‘Did it all really happen? Was I really a principal dancer?’ And Lydia told me: ‘Don’t do that! Yes, you were. We’re here to tell you, you were.”

Sells went on to a career that included serving as the dean of Harvard Law School, until she left this year to become the Metropolitan Opera’s first chief diversity officer. Shelton-Benjamin is now a jeweler who recently became certified in diamond grading. She, along with Abarca-Mitchell, McKinney-Griffith and Rohan, continue to coach and teach dance. They all have families, including another grandchild on the way for McKinney-Griffith, who announced the happy news to whoops on a recent call.

But they are done swallowing a mythology of firstness that excludes them, along with fellow pioneers like Katherine Dunham, Debra Austin, Raven Wilkinson, Lauren Anderson and Aesha Ash. It’s true that Misty Copeland is American Ballet Theater’s first Black female principal. It is also true that she stands on the shoulders of the founding and first generation dancers at Dance Theater. A narrative that suggests otherwise, Sells said, “Simply makes ballet history weak and small.”

Worse, it perpetuates the belief that Blackness in ballet is a one-off rather than a continuing fact. And it suggests a lonely existence for dancers like Copeland, a world absent of peers. “We could’ve been Misty’s aunties,” Abarca-Mitchell said. “I wish she was part of our sisterhood, that’s all.”

Dance Theater saved them from being the only one in a room. The work was so hard, the expectations so high, the mission so urgent, that those early days demanded a familial support system among the dancers. “Someone would take you under their wing and say, ‘You’re my daughter or sister or brother,’” McKinney-Griffith said. “The men did it also. Karlya was my little sister, and we kept that through the years.”

Like in any family, the relationships are complicated. The women speak of feeling shut out of today’s Dance Theater of Harlem. They are rarely brought in for workshops or consultations on the ballets they were taught by Mitchell. At his memorial service in 2018, they wept in the pews unacknowledged. “We’re like orphans,” Rohan said with a laugh in a Zoom session. “If the outside world neglects us, it seems all the more reason that Dance Theater of Harlem should embrace us.”

Virginia Johnson, a fellow founding member, is now the company’s artistic director. She assumed the helm in 2013 when Dance Theater returned after an eight-year hiatus caused by financial instability. “It makes me sad to think that they feel excluded,” Johnson said in a phone interview. “And it’s not because I don’t want them. It’s just because I can’t manage. I’ve probably missed some chances but it’s not like I haven’t thought about the value of what they bring to the company. They are the bodies, the soul, the spirit of Dance Theater of Harlem.”

“We all think about and love and respect what Arthur Mitchell did,” she added, “but these are the people he worked with to make this company.”

By the end of May, the five members of the 152nd Street Black Ballet Legacy were fully vaccinated. They traveled from Denver, Atlanta, Connecticut, South Jersey and, in Sells’s case, five blocks north of Dance Theater of Harlem for a joyful reunion. So much is different now at the building on 152nd Street. The old fire escape in Studio 3 where they’d catch their breath or wipe tears of frustration is gone. So are the big industrial fans in the corners of the room, replaced by central air conditioning. But they can still feel their leader all around them in the room. Crying, Abarca-Mitchell told McKinney-Griffith, “I miss Arthur.” (Though they all laugh when imagining his response to their legacy council. “I do believe he would try to control us,” Rohan said. “’What are you doing now? Why are you doing that? Let me suggest that. …’”)

The body remembers. In Studio 3, all Shelton-Benjamin had to do was hum a few notes of Balanchine’s “Serenade” and say “and” for the women to grandly sweep their right arms up. “These women help validate my worth,” Abarca-Mitchell said afterward. “I don’t want to take it for granted that people should recognize Lydia Abarca. But when I’m with them I feel like I felt back then. Important.”

Even as the world reopens and they grow busy again, they’ll carry on with their Tuesday afternoons. They want to amplify more alumni voices. They dream of launching a scholarship program for young dancers of color. This fall, they’ll host a webinar in honor of the director and choreographer Billy Wilson, whose daughter Alexis was also part of Dance Theater.

“What we have is a spiritual connection,” said Rohan, who turns 80 this year. She was 27 when she joined the company, already married and hiding from Mitchell that she was a mother of three young children for fear it get her kicked out. When she eventually confessed a year later, he got mad, insisting he would have increased her salary if he’d known she had mouths to feed.

“Arthur planted a seed in me, and all these beautiful women helped it grow,” she said. “Coming from Staten Island, I was just a country girl from the projects. My first time on a plane was to go to Europe to dance on those stages. I thanked God every day for the experience. This year, coming together again, I remembered how much it all meant to me. I didn’t have to be a star ballerina. It was enough that I was there. I was there. I was there.”

#article #ballet #the ny times #marcia sells #sheila rohan #gayle mckinney griffith #karlya shelton-benjamin #lydia abarca #virginia johnson

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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years ago

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Prompt: Sandy and Debbie break up and Ian and Mickey each take a side. During the fall out Ian worries that Mickey has the same complaints about Ian that drove Sandy to break up with Debbie. But in the end Mickey reassures Ian that their relationship is nothing like theirs.

hi!<3 thank u so much for this prompt, it was so fun to write! hope u enjoy:)

also this scenario could take place anytime between ep 2 and ep 3 of s11, because ian still has his warehouse job

“Jesus, Debbie, calm the fuck down. You’re being dramatic”

“Sandy, if you call me dramatic one more time, I swear to god. I’m not trying to be controlling I’m just asking you where you were last night, which is a perfectly reasonable question—”

“Reasonable if you were my mother, maybe, but I can go wherever the fuck I want without you needing to smother me all the time! I was on a run with Terry, because I have no money and don’t really know what to do with myself, and I’m never fucking good enough for you, and that’s literally all you need to know—”

“Trouble in paradise,” Mickey commented as he poured Ian some coffee, breaking the silence in the kitchen, where everyone was staring at their breakfasts and listening to the voices shouting upstairs.

Ian rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Debs isn’t known to be the most… secure partner in a relationship.”

“You can say that again,” added Liam, wrapping his poptart in a napkin and shoving it into his backpack. “I’m just gonna eat on the way to school. It doesn’t seem like this screaming is going to stop anytime soon, and while you and Mickey having sex twice a day is bad enough, Debbie and Sandy having a lover’s quarrel has somehow pushed me over the edge.”

Ian smirked and sipped his coffee. “Can you drop Franny off on the way?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Liam led Franny out of the kitchen, where Ian and Mickey remained, listening to Debbie’s shrill voice drifting through the floorboards.

“Fine, if I can’t know what’s going on in your life, I guess you don’t need to be in mine anymore!”

“Are you fucking serious, Debbie? Why do you need to know where I am, you can barely handle knowing the whereabouts of your own kid—”

Ian and Mickey traded raised eyebrows while Ian silently took a bite of toast.

“Sandy, get out of this house! I don’t need you and your illegal bullshit anyways, all you’re doing is putting me and Franny at risk with Terry and all of his issues—”

“Okay, little miss perfect, but don’t expect me to give a shit when you come crawling back.”

“Fine!”

The door upstairs finally slammed, and seconds later Sandy came stomping down. She looked at Ian.

“Your prissy fucking sister is a pain in my ass. The sooner your whole family realizes that your garbage father is as bad as Terry is, the sooner you’ll hop off of your superiority complex over the Milkoviches and realize that your way of surviving is literally the same as ours.”

Sandy shoved past the kitchen table and out the back door.

Ian breathed out a laugh. “Well, that was an eventful morning.”

“I’ll say,” Mickey agreed, looking at the door Sandy had just walked through. “Do you think I should go talk to her or some shit?”

Ian shrugged. “Nah, I’m sure it’s fine. I’m sure Sandy’ll grow up and apologize for whatever illegal shit she was doing with Terry, Debs will calm down, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

Mickey looked slightly uncomfortable as he placed his mug down on the table. “I mean, she has got a point. I’m sure whatever Sandy was up to was no big deal, Debbie doesn’t need to be freaking out.”

Ian scoffed. “Yeah, if getting involved in all of your dad’s shit is no big deal. Sandy could at least tell Debs whatever she’s up to, that sounds pretty fair to me.”

Mickey stood up, clearing their plates and walking over to the sink. “Whatever, Gallagher. I’m just saying Sandy does have a point about you being marshmallows. If she’s not telling Debbie what she’s up to, it’s probably for her own good.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Mick? Last time you disappeared on a run with your dad without telling me where you were, I literally thought you murdered our PO. How is that better than just telling me you’re hawking some stolen guns or whatever you get up to?”

Mickey distractedly wrung his hands with the dish towel, looking sightly pissed and defensive that Ian would even bring up that onslaught of memories, of their almost-wedding and Ian’s rejection at the courthouse and everything that followed.

“I don’t know, asshole. Maybe because Sandy’s right, and you all can be a little judgy about all the illegal shit. I get that you’re a goody two shoes breaking your fucking back in a warehouse, but that doesn’t mean that everyone needs to work their ass off to make minimum wage like you. I used to do shit for my dad all the time, so does Sandy and she doesn’t need anyone to be her keeper.”

Ian rolled his eyes, taking a final sip of coffee and standing up. “Alright, whatever. I’m gonna be late.” He pecked the top of Mickey’s head as he put his mug in the sink. “Enjoy your hard day’s work of watching TV and jacking off.”

Mickey turned and flipped him off as Ian strode out of the room.

Later that day, as Ian was mechanically checking expiration dates on an order of off-brand crackers, he couldn’t help but replay he and Mickey’s conversation from that morning over and over in his mind. Was Mickey seriously going to defend Sandy for sneaking with Terry behind Debbie’s back? He knew Mickey didn’t give a shit about making minimum wage right now, but was Mickey really going to spend the rest of his life following in his dad’s footsteps, depending on his next heist for cash? And, worst of all, did that mean he was going to live a life of feeling like he needed to hide every move from Ian? Ian knew what he was signing up for when they got married, that being with Mickey always meant some level of scamming and schmoozing; but for some reason, he thought that now that Mickey and his dad had fallen out that Mickey’s existence would stop being so constantly on the brink of incarceration.

He’d expected marriage to be a partnership—but so far, it felt like he and Mickey were on different pages about pretty much everything.

When Ian finally made it home and stumbled in the front door, tired and bleary, Sandy was still noticeably absent from the Gallagher house. Debbie and Franny were in the kitchen, along with Liam who was muddling through his homework at the table. Ian went upstairs and found Mickey laying on their bed, watching some sort of video on his phone at full volume. He didn’t look up when Ian came into the room.

“Hey, Mick. Can we talk for a sec?” Ian asked, taking off his hat and coat and gingerly placing them on the bottom corner of the bed.

Mickey still didn’t look up from his phone. “Don’t know what the fuck you want to talk about.”

Ian sat on the edge of the bed. “Did… Sandy and Debbie make up yet?”

Mickey huffed. “What d’you think.”

“Guess not. How’s Sandy doing?”

“Don’t know, haven’t heard from her yet. Figure she��s just off somewhere blowing off some steam.”

Ian approached the next topic with caution.

“So, uh, I was thinking. And I think we need to talk again about, y’know, our mutual expectations.”

“This shit again? Listen, we already did this, I know we agreed that we aren’t fucking other people—"

“No, no I mean about other stuff. Not even the money stuff again really, just like… if you’re ever going to go back to doing the shit that Terry does. For example.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about man, you know I don’t talk to that asshole anymore.”

“I know, but—what if you want to do stuff with Sandy, or someone makes you an offer for a big job? What if you end up in jail again? What if you feel the way Sandy does and you feel like you need to hide all this stuff from me, meanwhile I’m just here working my ass off trying to make a life for us—”

Mickey paused the video and finally looked up from the phone.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Gallagher?”

Ian ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t want you to not tell me shit, the way Sandy was with Debbie. I’d rather know what illegal bullshit you’re up to, even if you think it’s going to piss me off. I… I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t want you to have to lie to me, and I don’t want you to go to jail again. I just wanna be on the same page.”

Ian inched his hand over the covers and placed it on top of Mickey’s as he kept talking.

“I know we’ve been fighting a lot lately, not agreeing on stuff. But I just…want you to know that I’m in this. I love you, I’m your fucking husband. I want us to work together, and I don’t want you to think that I can’t handle anything, or that we can’t tackle everything together.”

Ian looked down at their hands, letting the silence swell as he traced Mickey’s palm with his thumb.

“Hey, Gallagher. Look at me.”

Ian met Mickey’s eyes—Mickey was looking directly at him, unguarded and open. It reminded him of the look on Mickey’s face when he had tried to break up with Mickey the first time, back when they were both kids sitting on the front stoop and Mickey had sprinted over when Ian called; when Mickey had split himself open, had told Ian how much he loved him, through sickness and health and everything they were about to go through.

“Sandy’s got her own bullshit to learn. About people caring about her, caring where she is, caring if she throws her life away. But I’ve been here this whole time, and I’ve learned that. Why do you think I used to throw myself into as much risky bullshit as I could, before I was locked up? I was losing myself in everything, because all I ever wanted was this.”

He put his hand up to Ian’s face—a small gesture, but probably the most intimate touch he’d given Ian in weeks. It stung like ice and fire on Ian’s cheek, like electricity was flickering where his fingertips met Ian’s skin.

“I’ve pointed a glock at my asshole dad’s head and been willing to take the bullet for this. I’m not getting involved in any shit that can take you away from me, Gallagher. Am I going to stop forging my payroll for my PO? Or stop selling shitty expired brownie mix? Probably not. But I’m not gonna do anything risky, anything that might take me away from you for good. Never was.”

Ian sighed. He was being stupid, and he knew that. But between all of their senseless bickering the last few weeks, he couldn’t help but worry that Mickey was feeling more and more indifferent about this whole marriage situation, or getting restless about being pinned down. He listened earnestly as Mickey continued talking.

“How many times have I told you—my family was never there for me. You’re the only family I need. And I made that shit official when I put a ring on your finger, or I guess when I forced you to put one on mine. I’ve always been there for you, I’m always gonna be there for you. We fought long and hard enough for this, Gallagher. You just gotta believe in me.”

There it was—that fondness in Mickey’s eyes, the softness that he tried to hard to hide, but showed up anyways as he was tying Ian’s tie, or holding him close through a wave of depression, or kissing his forehead when he gave Ian his meds. Mickey was never going to let anything come between them again, not after all the pitfalls and heartbreak they’d been through—Ian realized that now, even more than he already had.

“I know, Mick. I believe you.”

“You’d better, asshole. Now c’mere.”

Mickey led Ian’s chin forward, and their lips met—just a ghost of a touch, at first, but it made Ian grab the back of Mickey’s neck and pull him in closer, fiercely slotting their lips together again and again.

They broke apart, and Ian smiled sheepishly. “Sorry for freaking out.”

“I’m all yours, Mr. Milkovich. Whatever shit our families get into can’t change that.”

#shameless #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #debbie gallagher #sandy milkovich

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blue--cup · 4 years ago

Text

Well Done Sweetface!

Ian had always tried to look out for Liam.

In fact, all of his eldest siblings did. With Liam being the baby of the family it was only natural they all took on more of a parental role with him.

When he was an actual baby, Fiona took the lead. She was the one who fed him his formula at odd hours of the night, took care of him at work when everyone else was at school, got him to an urgent care when he had a fever that just wouldn’t seem to break, and many many other tasks that weren’t, and shouldn’t have been her responsibility. Yes, Monica had been his mother biologically, but Fiona was his mum in every other way that mattered, just like she was to all her siblings in some way or another.

Lip always tried to look out for everybody . He, along with Ian, was for decades Fiona’s rock, he took Ian’s beating from Mickey when they were still all kids, he tried his best to not let Carl and Debbie get their hopes up that one time Frank seemingly got sober, and when Fiona went to jail he stepped up for Liam more than he ever had before. Lip cared a lot about his siblings, and he had done things for them most of the eldest brothers at his old college never would have dreamt of.

Now though, now things felt different.

Now Fiona was gone, finally, and deservedly living her life free from the chains of forced obligation to her family, finally living the life her parents had stolen from her at fourteen. He missed her, they all did, but Ian had meant it when he told her to never look back because for all the times he woke up in the morning craving her eggs, or thought about how every Gallagher blow-out felt just a little bit incomplete without her laughter filling the air, he was happy for her.

Now Lip had a kid and a house of his own. Yeah, they still saw him most days, but it wasn’t the same as when Ian was fifteen. For now, if asked to hang out instead of thinking about whatever scheme he had planned to help add to the squirrel fund, or whether or not Fiona would be home from in time to look after the youngest Gallaghers, Lip thought about Tammy and Fred. He still tried to look out for everyone, he still loved his siblings, but his kid came first, and that was okay.

Ian’s relationship with Liam had always felt unique to his relationships with the rest of his siblings. With Fiona and Lip he was their little brother, their best friend, their emotional support. Yeah, he’s protected them, cared for them, but he’s not parental towards him in the same way they are slightly towards him. Carl on the other hand is his little brother. He roughhouses with him, takes the piss out of him, let’s him do shit he knows Fiona would at least shoot a disapproving glare at if not prohibit entirely. And with Debbie, that’s his baby sister, even if she hasn’t acted like it in a long-ass while.

Liam though? Well, he’s not Ian’s kid , but he’s not fully just his little brother either. When Carl started smoking Ian barely batted an eye because what was he going to do? Tell Carl to stop while his own pack burned a hole in his pocket? Fuck no, but if Liam lit a fag on their way to school Ian knows he wouldn’t think twice before plucking it out of his hand, much in the same way Lip would if it was Freddie, or Debbie if it was Franny.

So while no, Liam wasn’t really Ian’s kid - he’d cringe if Liam ever called him ‘dad’, much like when Fiona used to grimace upon being called ‘mama’ - but he still kind of was in some respects, in a lot of the ways that mattered . Especially now, with things being different, because now Ian was the only eldest sibling left really. Or not left, but still able to give Liam the care he needs.

That’s why, Ian guessed, he and Mickey took Liam in.

After the house was sold and they got their fair share Ian and Mickey moved into a two-bedroom, middle floor flat, and barely discussed it before asking Liam to come with them. Ian had been so sure Mickey would protest because while he knew his husband loved the Gallaghers as his own taking on a kid barely a year into being newlyweds would’ve thrown anyone. Ian had been pleasantly surprised, however, because the night after the sale was finalised Mickey looked over at him from their bed and casually stated “so Liam’s coming with us, right?”

No “do we really have to?” No “can’t he just go to Fiona?” Just a statement of fact, and Ian’s still shocked neither of them chipped a tooth with how hard he kissed Mickey in gratitude and excitement.

“Hey, earth to Ian” came Mickey’s voice from his left, jarring him out of his thoughts. He looked over at his husband, who was resting the hand holding his beer on one knee while he waved his other in front of Ian’s face, a goofy smile plastering his own.

“Spaced out on me there” Mickey continued, resting the hand he had been waving on the backrest, grazing the back of Ian’s neck.

Ian shifted, and threw an easy smile back at Mickey “sorry, just thinking.”

“Yeah?” Mickey replied, and rustled the slightly overgrown hair at the back of Ian’s head - he’d have to ask Mick to cut it again soon - “what about?”

“Ah just, happy we ended up here, you know,” Ian answered, smiling when he saw Mickey’s teasing expression morph naturally into something softer, more adoring. He breathed a short laugh thinking about how much 15-year-old Ian would have killed to see the image before him, the one he gets to enjoy every single day.

“And-” Ian added, cutting himself off to shift closer to Mickey and pull his arm around Ian’s shoulders, “-I’m glad we’re able to give Liam the home he deserves.”

At that, Mickey’s smile widened, and turned full-on loving, before he ducked his head shyly. When he looked back up, he mumbled out a “god you’re soft,” before muffling Ian’s giggles with a kiss, humming when Ian’s hand automatically came up to cradle his face.

At that moment, the door swung open, and the sound of Liam’s backpack being carelessly dropped to the ground boomed through the small flat. Ian pulled back first and kissed Mickey’s cheek consolingly when he grumbled about it.

“Guys, guess what!” Liam called, as he came into view of the couple, a piece of paper with red ink at the top being waved about in his hand.

“What’s up buddy?” Mickey asked, hand dropping to Ian’s right shoulder after Ian turned around to face Liam.

“I said guess ” Liam retorted, grinning cheekily and pressing the paper to his chest, hiding it from view.

“Fuck off, this isn’t one of your pop quizzes, what are you holding?” Mickey complained, his grin undercutting the edge he tried to inject into his voice.

“Well,” Liam began, theatrically, dropping onto the couch next to Ian, who tried, unsuccessfully, to pry the apparently extremely important paper from Liam’s arms. “You know that paper I was up all night writing?”

“I think the one we spent all night sitting up waiting for you to finish” Ian laughed, throwing an arm around Liam and shaking him playfully.

“Please, you and Mickey were asleep on this couch for most of it” Liam shot back, shoving Ian’s thigh in revenge.

“Come on, come on, cut to the chase” Mickey groused, looking annoyed but Ian knew he was just as excited to hear what Liam had to say as Liam was to say it.

Liam just smiled, an air of self-confidence filling his small body, and silently presented the paper to the anticipating Ian and Mickey.

“An A+!” Ian half-shouted, before handing the paper to a stunned Mickey and getting on his feet so he could pick up Liam and spin him around.

“Well done Sweetface!” Ian cried out over Liam’s giggles, before stilling and giving him a quick kiss on the nose, causing Liam to scrunch his face up and beam.

“Thanks, my teacher said it’s my best yet” Liam bragged, clearly satisfied with himself.

“You hear that Mick? Says it’s his best yet” Ian boasts, bouncing Liam once before setting him back down.

He turned back to his husband, who was looking at the paper with the biggest look of pride Ian had ever seen. As if he could feel Ian’s eyes gazing down on him he snapped his head up, and announced “I think this deserves a spot on the fridge.”

“Fuck yes it does!” Ian agreed and turned back to Liam as Mickey hurried to the kitchen to hang it up, “I also think this deserves ice cream.”

“Fuck yeah!” Liam exclaimed, almost jumping into Ian’s arms for a tight hug. Ian squeezed back just as tight, ruffling his hair as he did.

When they parted Liam smirked and asked “do you guys really need to act like this every time I get a good grade? The fridge door is looking pretty full.”

“Well then we’ll get a bigger fridge,” Mickey said, coming back into the room and grabbing his keys from a bowl on the coffee table.

“And besides, I don’t see you complaining” Ian pointed out, pushing Liam gently towards the door. Liam wasn’t wrong, it was getting difficult to open the fridge door, but the happiness he felt seeing his baby brother’s achievements was just too much to give up for a little extra convenience.

“Yeah well, who would complain about ice cream?” Liam replied, half running towards the door he had just come through.

Ian felt a warm hand drop onto his shoulder, and he craned his neck slightly to look at Mickey, who just looked at him with that special look only Ian ever got to see and said “I get what you were saying, about being happy we ended up here, that Liam’s here too.”

Ian grinned so wide it hurt, and slid his arms around his husband’s neck, pulling him in for what was possibly the sweetest kiss of his life.

“Guys come on, you can make out later!” Liam called from the door, and now it was Ian’s turn to grumble at the interruption.

“Come on Sweetface,” Mickey said, kissing Ian’s nose in a sweet imitation of what Ian had done to Liam, “we’ve got ice cream to eat.”

#gallavich #ficlet #fic #fanfic #shameless #fluff #gallavich ficlet #ian x mickey #liam gallagher #malewifeian made me do it okay

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