#anyways justice for mike hanlon and every loser

[finnickodaiir]

Just leaving my It Ch2 review here

[trash-the-tozier]

hey from that prompt list. 1 and 4 combined perhaps? and stozier

i see you. i see the picture you’re trying to paint for me my friend. hopefully i did it justice! 

length: 1.4k words | ao3warnings: uh... vandalism?prompts: 1. There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close4. Kissing in the rain and getting soaked before running inside laughing

send me a cliche prompt (list here: x) and a pairing and i’ll write a drabble! 

“We are way too old to be doing this!” Stan hissed, his voice a little louder than he probably meant it to be as he and Richie ran together down the dark street.

“Age is just a number, Stanley!” Richie exclaimed back. And yeah, Stan was definitely right and this was definitely one of the dumber things Richie had done since entering his late twenties, but damn if he wasn’t having fun.

“Sure, and vandalism is just a crime!” Stan retorted, Richie barking out a loud laugh. The strongly chemical smell of spray paint mingled heavily in the air between them; they both had flecks of it staining their clothes, and Richie knew he was bound to have some in his hair. It had been a while since either of them had used spray paint, and they were out of practice, making a mess.

Every year, starting on Mike’s sixteenth birthday, Stan and Richie would creep out to the barn on Mike’s family’s farm in the middle of the night and spray paint something on the barn wall, something that Mike would be able to see out his window first thing the next morning when he woke up. It started out as a joke suggestion from Stan, becoming much less of a joke when Richie had shown up at Stan’s house at midnight with cans of spray paint and a mischievous grin on his face. The Hanlons repainted the barn every year anyway, so no permanent damage was done, and it had always made Mike laugh.

As they’d gotten older, the tradition had been harder to keep up. They drifted around as they moved away, first for college and then for jobs, but Richie and Stan always made sure to meet up once a year for it, flying into Maine, stopping at the first shop that sold spray paint and sneaking onto the Hanlon farm.

A couple of years back, Stan had spent a year abroad. Richie hadn’t wanted to go alone, and Stan wasn’t able to fly back from Spain for just one night, so they’d missed it. After that, the tradition had been dropped. The Losers still all met up a couple times a year, but it just wasn’t the same. Whenever spring rolled around and Mike’s birthday came closer, there was a tug in Richie’s chest, the ache of missing Stan--an ache that grew more and more persistent every time they met up, until it became a permanent, wanting sort of feeling--so this year, Richie had finally acted on it and called him up.

Miraculously, Stan had agreed to come.

Not so miraculously, Mike had oh-so-conveniently forgotten to tell them that he’d actually sold the farm a couple of years ago, deeming the information unimportant since the spray painting was something that he assumed Richie and Stan wouldn’t do anymore. And the new owners didn’t think that LOVE U MIKEY  written in huge, clumsy, multicolored lettering was quite as charming as Mike had. So they were being chased through the streets of Derry by a small group of Maine hillbillies, one of which Richie was about sixty percent sure had a shotgun.

“We just have to lose them!” Richie said. God, he was out of shape, his breath beginning to come in short, painful gasps. There had been four pursuers at first, but they only had two left--Hillbilly A in a sleeveless denim jacket, and Hillbilly B, in a beat-up red ball cap.

“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” Stan grabbed Richie by the wrist, tugging him around a corner and down a small side street. “We don’t live here anymore; they know this town better than us!”

An elated laugh rose up in Richie’s chest at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, and when Stan didn’t let his wrist go, Richie twisted his hand so that they were palm to palm, lacing their fingers together.

It felt like a small victory, but Stan’s hand was only in his for a moment, Stan letting go in favor of grabbing Richie by the shirt, turning into a tiny alley, and fully slamming Richie into the brick wall behind, pressing close to hide out of sight. Red Ball Cap ran right past them but Stan didn’t move, holding still with ears pricked for Denim Jacket. Richie, however, was completely distracted.

Richie hadn’t been this close to Stan in… Had he ever? Stan was stunning up close, that much was easy to see, despite their only light coming from the streetlights; heavy clouds had covered the moon all night. He had a sprinkle of light brown freckles across his face, his hair falling down onto his forehead in honeyed curls, the pink bow of his lips open slightly to breathe after their run, the hollow of his throat slick with sweat.

“I think they’re gone.” Stan murmured. He still hadn’t stepped back; he still hadn’t let go of Richie’s shirt, his fingers barely gripping at the fabric, more pressed against his chest than anything else. “This was such a disaster. It actually could not have gone worse.”

Richie let out a little laugh, trying to roundhouse-kick his brain back into action. “I tend to have that effect on things.” He said, and Stan laughed a little too. Then, on cue, the clouds that had been hanging over them all night broke open, and it began to rain.

“Oh, damn it!” Stan exclaimed, taking a proper step back to push his hair out of his face. The action seemed to happen in slow motion, Richie watching Stan’s fingers card through his hair, his chin tilted back and throat exposed, Richie’s next words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Stan, you are the most gorgeous person in the world.”

Maybe it was how genuine he felt about the statement, but Richie was surprised when Stan began to laugh.

“Stan.” Richie put a hand on Stan’s shoulder, his stomach twisting a little when he saw Stan’s smile fade.

“Stop making fun of me, Richie.”

“I’m not.”

“I’m all sweaty.”

“I know.”

“I’m annoyed.”

“I know.”

“I’m getting fucking rained on right now, you don’t think--”

“Stan.” Richie, in this moment, felt very much like he was explaining to Stan that water was, in fact, wet. “I know, and I’m being serious.”

Stan looked back at him, searching his eyes for a moment. Then a smile began on his lips, just barely, and in one fluid motion Stan pushed Richie again into the wall of the building, leaned in close, and kissed him.

Stan didn’t even have the chance to begin pulling away before Richie kissed him back, his hands falling to Stan’s hips to tug him closer. The rain only started falling harder, their breath warm on cold cheeks. Stan had him fully pinned against the rough brick wall, something about it making Richie feel completely pliant against him in the best way. When Stan shivered against him, and Richie knew it was from the weather and not the hand he’d slipped under Stan’s shirt, he pulled back.

“We should get out of the rain.” He said, and Stan took a step away, looking over him and bursting into laughter. They were soaked to the bone, in the middle of the night, the ridiculousness of the situation enough to keep them laughing all the way to the Derry Townhouse where they were staying, hand in hand as they ran.

Stan slipped into the bathroom first.

“It’s probably a good thing is was raining.” He said, the bathroom door open a crack.

“Yeah?” Richie asked, pulling off his soaking shoes to leave them by the door. “Why’s that?”

“If it wasn’t, I’d definitely still have you pushed against that wall right now.” Stan said, and Richie didn’t know how to react further than standing there, dumbstruck. They were flirting now. Okay. Time to readjust his expectations. “Wow, I’m freezing.”

“I could warm you up, if you want.”

“Oh, really? I was going to just get in the shower.” As Stan said this the shower started up, and a moment later Stan stuck his head out the bathroom door, already undressed down to his underwear, a small smile on his face. “But you can join me, if you want.”

Richie couldn’t pull his clothes off fast enough.

[skeletonscribbles]

9 & 17 for the prompts!! :D :D :D

hello lovely!!! this prompt has been a joy - thank you for checking in and specifying Stanlon. I’ve actually not written straight up Stanlon before, so I hope I did them justice - and tbh, Richie ended up commandeering the whole thing anyway. I really couldn’t stop him. so - bonus Reddie!!! 

Anyways, if you like this fill even half as much as I like you, I’ll consider it a success.

so, here is like a thief in the night, baby’s first Stanlon ficlet prompt 9 (”so you’ve started stealing my socks now”) and prompt 17 (”you owe me a cookie”)

and if you’d rather read it on Archive….here you go :) 

It was rare that Mike Hanlon felt that he didn’t know what to do.

He’d grown up knowing that his father would insist upon his being prepared for every minor occurrence, and so he had become a young man that was fastidious about knowing what he was doing before he did it. He researched, he practiced, he did whatever he could do to make sure that he was ready and able to face any task that came his way.

The irony of the fact that it was love (of all things!) tripping him up wasn’t lost on Mike. He’d read countless love stories, and had watched his friends fall in and out of love a zilliion times over the years. He thought he was prepared to take on the challenge.

He was very, very wrong. Love in practice was way different than love in theory, and Mike wasn’t even sure how to talk to the object of his affections, let alone, like…ask the person out or something.

Unfortunately, people were starting to notice his lack of confidence.

“Has everything been all right with you, Mike?” Stan asked him one day as they were preparing to head home after a sleepover at the Toziers’. “Or, rather, is there something you’re upset with me over? We haven’t really talked in weeks.”

“Oh.” Mike had been avoiding Stan, but it had nothing to do with being upset - quite the opposite, actually. “Um. No, we’re good, Stan. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

Stan smiled a rare, warm smile, and touched Mike genially on the arm. Mike felt the pressure of Stan’s hand on his elbow like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. Perfect, straightforward, no-nonsense Stanley Uris, keeping Mike’s life in place without even knowing it.

God…the love stories he’d read hadn’t even come close to describing what it really felt like to have a dizzying, world-altering, soul-shattering crush. This was torture.

“I’m not hurt, Mike, don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” Mike confirmed, and watched with a knot in his stomach as Stan nodded, confident that he’d resolved things, and walked out of the Toziers’ front door and towards his old blue Ford Taurus.

When Mike went back to the farm, he was greeted with the exciting news that his mother and father were planning on managing the farm themselves that morning, so he wouldn’t be required to join them until the afternoon. Great. More time to himself to mull over how stiltedly awkward his interactions with Stan had become.

If he’d just had more time…if he’d asked Stan to wait a minute (no, that would have been too weird), or offered to carpool (too late - they’d both taken their own cars over, and also they didn’t live anywhere near each other, so that was out), or even offered to take him out to coffee (too much like a DATE, Mike, come on), he could have explained himself, or at least gotten over the stupid mind block that seemed to be popping up every time Stan was within fifty feet of him.

How could he buy himself a few extra minutes with Stanley Uris?

The answer didn’t come to him that day, but rather a few days later, when he was going through his drawers in an attempt to find his favorite purple t-shirt and prove to his mother that she was crazy for thinking that it was in the wash. He’d just about made it to the bottom of his shirts drawer when he saw it: a crisp white button down with navy blue pinstripe patterning.

How had Stan’s shirt ended up in his drawer?

He had a veritable collection of clothing from the rest of the Losers, now, because they spent a lot of time at Mike’s parents’ farm in the summer and as such, lost items weren’t a huge deal, because they knew that everything would turn up again eventually. The current pile included but was not limited to: Bill’s cheap cereal-box watch, an old t-shirt of Ben’s, a belt that was too small to fit any Loser but Bev, tiny tube socks that Mike was pretty sure he’d seen Eddie wearing a few weeks ago, and a pair of Richie’s underwear (it was a long story)…but Stan never forgot anything. Stan kept a detailed inventory of all of his things, clothing included…and even if a shirt had slipped under Stan’s radar, there was no reason at all for it to be in Mike’s drawer.

Mike’s mother had been right about the purple shirt, but Mike couldn’t even bring himself to be mad about it. He had an opportunity in his drawer, now, and he was ready to use it.

He pulled Stan aside after the Losers’ next excursion to the Aladdin, and opened his bag awkwardly, hands fumbling with the zipper, and then with the shirt.

Stan’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that mine?”

“Um.” Mike moved a hand up to his face, half mortified and half nervously excited. “I found it in my room. Figured you were probably looking for it.”

“Oh.” Stan gently took the shirt from Mike’s hands, and then smiled softly up at him - and oh lord, had Mike ever seen Stan smile like that? It was like he’d let his guard completely down - there was no sharp, cynical edge to his features at all, only genuine appreciation, and Mike felt all of his resolve shift towards a single goal: getting Stan to smile at him like that more often.

“Right.” Mike found his voice for long enough to shakily respond. “Yes. Right. Um. Did you like the movie?”

Stan laughed softly, and shrugged his shoulders, turning to rejoin the rest of the group. “It was fine. Could definitely tell that it was Richie’s choice today. You?”

Mike stared at him for a moment, and then his legs kicked in, and he was shuffling along after Stan. “I thought it was funny - and it was probably extra funny for me, because I was sitting next to Eddie, who just kept turning redder and redder the whole time. Richie mouthing along to the dumb jokes really got to him, I guess.”

Stan shook his head, and Mike watched his curls bounce, entranced. “Those two are such a mess. I hope they sort themselves out soon…it’s getting annoying.”

It took Mike a minute to process what Stan was saying, but once he’d realized the implication in Stan’s words, the beginnings of a plan lit in the empty spaces of his mind.

“So you’re saying you think Richie needs help with Eddie?” he asked quickly, wanting to make sure he was understanding things right.

Stan paused and looked back towards Mike over his shoulder. “I mean, not exactly my point, but Richie could always use assistance in interacting with other people.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“No reason,” Mike said quickly, trying to figure out the best way to get Richie alone.

—-

Mike didn’t end up having to plan a thing. Richie showed up by himself the next day.

“Buenos dias, Mikey!” Mike looked up from his gardening with a frown as Richie drove his banged-up old truck off the road and over the grass towards where Mike was squatting.

“What do you want, Tozier?” Mike asked, willing Richie to stop before he accidentally ran over an important plant.

Richie slammed on the brakes, and Mike winced at the high-pitched noise they made. Richie really needed to have his car looked at. Mike was surprised that Eddie hadn’t taken a wrench to it already, but considering the state of things between Richie and Eddie, it kind of made sense that normal friend occurrences were falling by the wayside.

“Was in the neighborhood,” Richie said, opening the truck door and swinging himself out. “Thought I’d stop by and pet a chicken.”

Mike crossed his arms over his chest. Richie had pet the chickens exactly one time - one peck on the hand had been enough to get him to swear up and down that they were evil and that he would never touch them again. “Interesting, but why are you really here?”

Richie stopped and stood next to Mike, lanky frame towering over him in the sun. It would have been intimidating if it were anyone other than Richie. “Stan sent me over. Didn’t tell me why, but made that really scary Stan face at me, so I figured I should actually see what he was on about.”

Mike nodded, wondering how Stan knew that he wanted to talk to Richie. That boy was better at social inferences than anyone gave him credit for.  “I won’t tell him you’re scared of him if you don’t tell him what I’m about to tell you.”

Richie’s face lit up, and he crashed down onto his ass, sitting cross-legged next to Mike. “Secrets, eh Micycle? I happen to be a master secret keeper, you know–”

“Remember when you told the whole ninth grade that Bill was interested in Kelly Jenkins?” Mike asked flatly.

Richie was undeterred. “Details,” he said flippantly, grinning at Mike. “So, what’s up?”

“I, um.” Mike felt his face going red, and silently cursed. Richie was never going to let him live this down. “I want to….talk to Stan more.”

Richie’s half-surprised, half-elated face looked a little bit like someone had electrocuted him. It was very unattractive, and Mike wanted to tell him so, but Richie was talking before Mike had the chance to say anything. “YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON STAN THE M–PHHHH”

Mike clapped a hand over Richie’s mouth, and braced himself for the inevitable licking. Sure enough, after about three seconds he felt Richie’s tongue against his palm…but he wouldn’t relent, not this time. “Shut your trash mouth, Trashmouth. Yes, I am….interested in Stan…and you are not going to tell anybody. Anybody. Are we clear?”

Mike removed his hand from Richie’s mouth with a jerk, and Richie was left with his tongue hanging uselessly out. He spluttered, took a quick breath, and then nodded, an inquisitive look in his eyes.

“Crystal. Gotta say, though, sexuality-wise I’ve always thought you were more of a Prince than a David Bowie.”

Mike shrugged. “Eh. I just like who I like, I think. Doesn’t really matter. My folks don’t care, as long as I’m being responsible.”

“You and Stan are like…the definition of responsible.” Richie immediately made a face at that realization. “Oh, God, that’s terrible.”

“Anyways,” Mike continued, ignoring Richie’s obvious disgust at being surrounded by people who actually did well with rules and structure, “I think I’ve got an idea about how to buy myself some extra time with Stan without being weird or forward about it, and I need your help.”

Richie held out two fingers. “Two things. One, I don’t know what your plan is at this point, but knowing both of you I guarantee you’re wrong about things not being weird.”

“Fuck you,” Mike said sourly. “What’s the second thing?”

Richie leaned up so that he was uncomfortably close to Mike’s face. “What’s in it for me?” he asked, putting on a voice, and Mike felt like he really had no choice at that point but to shove him.

“Pick an accent and stick with it, dude.” Mike shuddered and stood up, picking up his gardening shovel. “I was thinking I could make sure you and Eddie got some alone time at sleepovers. You know, so you don’t have to keep making up excuses for dragging him off.”

Richie’s eyes widened comically behind his glasses. “Wh–excuses? Me?”

“All of us know that Eddie wouldn’t actually join you for a smoke break.” Mike rolled his eyes,and offered Richie a hand up. Richie took it begrudgingly, and Mike pulled him to his feet. “Admit it - neither of you are smoking out there when you go.”

“Fine, fine.” Richie was uncharacteristically flustered: his ears were red, and he kept fidgeting with his hands. Mike thought it was kind of funny - like watching a cat try and fit itself into a space it was too small for. “How long are we talking, here?”

“Upwards of thirty minutes,” Mike promised. “Way better than the ten minutes here and there that y’all have been sneaking.”

Richie pretended to consider Mike’s proposal, but they both knew what he was going to say. “Deal,” he finally conceded, reaching out a hand for Mike to shake. “Now, what’s this plan of yours? Oh my God, wait - Stan…plan…..”

“Don’t go down that road,” Mike warned, “and here’s what I think I want to do.”

By some incredible miracle, Richie managed to hold off his laughter until after Mike was finished explaining his whole idea. Unfortunately, that meant that when Richie started laughing, he couldn’t stop.

“Mike!” Richie wheezed. He’d fallen back down in his fit of giggles, and Mike was scowling at where he was curled up on the ground. No way he was getting a hand up this time. “That is…….without a doubt……..the STUPIDEST–”

“Will you do it or not?” Mike asked, exasperated.

“Yeah,” Richie said, with obvious fondness in his voice. “You know what, I fucking will.”

—-

Richie was an idiot, but he was an idiot that was true to his word, and two days later, Mike was in possession of Stanley Uris’s watch.

“Stole it from right off his wrist,” Richie had bragged, “arcade finger skills at work. If you ever need a heist team, Richie Tozier’s your man–”

“Thanks, I’m not bailing you out of jail,” Mike had told him, shutting the door in his face and mentally trying to make a list of things that the Losers could do without Richie and Eddie. (It was a long list of things. Richie and Eddie were so loud most of the time that it was often actually more pleasant to do certain things without them.)

Stan had been far more startled to see the watch than he had been to see the shirt.

“Where did you get this?” he asked incredulously when Mike handed it to him outside of the ice cream parlor. He’d asked Mike to hold his ice cream while he re-fastened the watch to his wrist, and Mike had acquiesced excitedly - it felt kind of official, to be holding Stan’s ice cream like that. He wondered if that was how Richie and Eddie felt all the time.

“Found it in my bag when I got back from the Aladdin a few days ago,” Mike lied. “Must have fallen off and in…lucky it didn’t land on the floor of the theatre.”

“Strange,” Stan frowned, “I thought I had it when I got home from the movies…”

Mike shrugged helplessly. “Minds are weird things. Yours must be playing tricks on you.”

Stan sighed and shook his head, holding out his hand to indicate that he’d like his cup of ice cream back. “It’s too much time with Bill is what it is. He’s making me forgetful by proxy.”

Mike jolted upright at Stan’s words. Had Stan and Bill been hanging out together? Privately? He could see why Bill might want to spend time with Stan - Stan was the funniest Loser, after all, and the smartest, and the bravest, and oh God, Bill probably had a crush on Stan, didn’t he? He would be stupid not to….but…was Bill even gay? Did Stan even–

“Not that I spend time with Bill outside of group hangouts, of course,” Stan continued, interrupting Mike’s frantic train of thought, “but still.”

Mike shifted, embarrassed at the path his thoughts had taken. “Do you spend time with anyone outside of group hangouts?”

“No,” Stan said, turning to face Mike. “Not really…but I’d like to, with some people.”

Mike felt his eyes grow wide, and he swallowed hard, not knowing how to respond. “Well–”

“You guys coming?” Bev called pushing her bike up next to them. “Hurry up and finish eating, slowpokes. We want to swim.”

“We’ll be right there,” Stan promised.

“I think it might take Richie and Eddie a while, though,” Mike quickly added, trying to uphold his end of the bargain he’d made. “Eddie spilled his and had to get a whole new one. They’ll probably be late.”

Bev rolled her eyes. “Idiots. Anyways, hurry up. Bill, Ben and I are leaving.”

Once Bev was out of earshot, Stan turned back to Mike with a bemused grin. “Eddie spilled his ice cream, huh?”

“You don’t want to know,” Mike muttered, and begrudgingly began making his way towards the trash can.

—-

Mike’s plan was short-lived for two reasons: Richie was a terrible thief, and Stan had excellent attention to detail.

The ice cream cover-up had assured Richie that his arrangement with Mike was mutually beneficial, and so he’d agreed to continue smuggling items over for Mike in exchange for the occasional cut-out with Eddie. Unfortunately, he was stupid enough to try and make a grab for Stan’s stuff on the night of a sleepover at the Uris residence, and Stan was a notorious stickler about people touching his things.

The confrontation had gone down in Stan’s room, while most of the Losers were curled up in the Uris living room watching Nightrider. Mike had noticed Richie sneak off, and had subsequently noticed Stan follow Richie upstairs with suspicious eyes, so he figured it was probably in his best interest to follow both of them to make sure they didn’t end up in a no-holds-barred brawl.

He had, of course, been right.

“So you’ve started stealing my socks, now?” Stan was hissing on the other side of the door when Mike reached the top of the stairs. “What the fuck are you doing in here, Richie? Are you just trying to mess up my stuff to make me mad, because–”

“No, dipshit,” Richie shot back, “I’m looking for my bag–”

“Your bag is downstairs and you know it,” Stan snapped. “What is going ON with you? I thought you’d be happy with the fact that Mike’s trying to give you and Eddie some space, not try and sneak off on your own to cause chaos, you idiot.”

“You know about the space stuff?” Richie sounded confused, and a little upset. “Wait, how much of my agreement with Mike are you in on?”

“Mike’s helping you and Eddie,” Stan said carefully. “That’s it, right?”

Richie gave a short laugh. “Ohhhh, nope. Stan my Man, you are in for quite a…como se dice….surprise–”

“That’s enough, Richie.” Mike entered the room before Richie could do any more damage. He knew what that probably meant as far as what he’d have to admit to Stan, but it was better coming from him than it was from Richie, even if that meant that Mike’s stomach was currently doing Olympic-level backflips. “Go back downstairs. Eddie’s wondering where you are.”

Richie looked as if he kind of wanted to stay and find out what the outcome of the Stan and Mike discussion was going to be, but the mention of Eddie’s name was enough to lure him back downstairs. “Aight. Good luck, friends. Thoughts and prayers to you in this trying time.”

Richie departed as quickly as his gangly limbs would allow, and Mike was left staring back over at Stan.

“What was he talking about, Mike?” Stan asked quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I asked him to take your stuff,” Mike explained, unable to meet Stan’s eyes as he confessed.

Stan jerked backwards in surprise. “Why?”

Mike took a deep breath, concentrated on Stan’s forehead, and said, “I wanted to have an excuse to spend more time with you.”

Stan’s eyes widened, and he blinked at Mike for a few silent, agonizing seconds.

Then, he burst out laughing.

“Mike!” Stan was doubled over, almost in tears already. “Oh my gosh, Mike - I did the same thing!”

Mike squinted at him, unable to figure out what was so funny. “I don’t follow.”

“I made sure that shirt was in your dresser!” Stan wheezed, looking up at Mike with bright eyes. “I wanted an excuse to talk to you!”

Oh. OH. That made a lot of sense - there was really no way the shirt would have gotten into Mike’s dresser if Stan hadn’t put it there himself. Oh.

Oh.

Stan had stopped laughing, and was moving slowly towards Mike - shyly, like he almost expected Mike to turn him away.

“Of course, I might be misunderstanding,” Stan said in a low voice, and the air suddenly felt heavy.

Mike willed himself to look anywhere but Stan’s lips when he responded, “I don’t think that you are.”

“Good,” Stan whispered, close enough to pull in and….and….

Mike had never felt less prepared for a moment in his life, but it was upon him: Stanley Uris was brushing his lips against Mike’s lips, and every single one of Mike’s nerve endings was on fire.

Stan pulled back far enough to be able to examine Mike’s face, and seemed to be satisfied with what he found there. He smiled, brushing his fingertips against Mike’s cheek.

“You want to spend some time together, maybe?” Mike asked, words like a waterfall out of his mouth. “You and me? Alone? Together? That was what you were talking about at the ice cream place, right?”

“Very good,” Stan nodded, beaming. “I was, and I would like to.”

“Adorable. Fucking disgusting, actually.”

Apparently, Richie hadn’t left after all. Mike and Stan turned to find him leaning against the doorway.

No, wait - Eddie was in tow. He’d left, and then come back.

“Is there something you want, Richie?” Stan asked coldly.

“Yes.” Richie jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Get out.”

Stan gaped at him. “This is my room!”

“And Mike owes us some alone time,” Richie said, gesturing between himself and Eddie, who looked absolutely mortified at Richie’s behavior, “and you, Staniel, promised me a cookie for sneaking that shirt into Mike’s drawer, and here I am, cookieless, so the least you could do is clear the room and let Eds and I get busy on your bed–”

“Not on the bed,” Stan hissed at the same time that Eddie yelped, “Gross, Richie!”

“Okay, okay.” Richie held up his hands. “Not on the bed, clothes stay on, and so on and so forth. Now scoot. Bill only sleeps in thirty minute increments. Fucking psycho.”

Mike and Stan looked at each other, and Stan proffered a hand out to Mike.

“You ready to take this outside?”

Mike smiled. Finally, finally, finally, the reins were back in his hands - finally, he knew what to do.

“Let’s go.”

[losersincollege]

College AU Roleplay - Character Introduction 4/8

Mike Hanlon will be played by @mikehanlonstan

Under the Cut: descriptions of physical and mental characterization; background on what Mike’s been up to between the summer of IT and the start of the RP.

-Character Description-

Physical:

He doesn’t shave often; usually has facial hair, but at least he keeps it neat.

He always forgets to, or procrastinates, getting his hair cut so it tends to get messy, but it’s cute.

Wears glasses; big round ones. I’d say he wears them like 60% of the time.

Big eyes and the most gorgeous smile you'll ever see.

Freckles. Just a lil’ bit of freckle on his nose/cheeks.

Fashion sense has greatly improved since his teenage years. He’s actually pretty damn FASHIONABLE (for now).

He’s not ripped, but he’s pretty fit and toned from years of farm work and playing football. Also, he runs very fast.

Rough hands. True farm boy.

Personality:

Mike is just a genuinely good person. He’s nice to everyone, but especially caring when it comes to his friends and family. He has a strong sense of justice and will stand up for himself and anyone who needs it. 

He always thinks about everyone’s needs before his own and will go out of his way to help a friend, and will usually be the one to try and resolve any tension in a group.

Even with people he dislikes/hates, he’d rather ignore them than start shit. Don’t be fooled, though; he might be a lover, but he won’t hesitate to fight someone if they get on his really bad side. Everyone has limits.

He’s a romantic and always wants to see the good in people, but not to the point where it’s considered naive. He’ll give second chances and the benefit of the doubt, and has the empathy to understand where someone might be coming from, but that’s about it.

He’s very loyal, but not to a fault. He won’t hesitate to call someone out if they’re wrong, even if it’s someone very close to him.

He’s nice to new people, but always somewhat hesitant and suspicious, since he was bullied pretty much his entire life.

He tends to be a bit of a pessimist, but tries not to.

He’s very curious, loves to read and learn, and questions EVERYTHING; he never takes anybody’s word as gospel until he’s done his own research. He’s very smart and quick-witted and finds his way out of sticky situations easily.

He’s not one for blind faith; like I said, he questions everything, and won’t believe in anything without solid proof. As a child he didn’t mind going to church with his mom, believing in the supernatural/paranormal etc., but he quickly grew out of that around the age of 12-13. All that being said, he won’t deny the existence of anything either; he just needs proof to be 100% on board. Somewhere between skeptic - believer, I guess?

Mike admires and looks up to his father very, very much, lives by his lessons and the values he’s passed on to him, and tries his best to make him proud.

Misc: Sings like an angel, horror/sci-fi fan (Alien is his favorite movie), listens to a wide variety of music genres (but MJ is king and always will be), hobbies include reading, photography, bike rides/driving early in the morning, cooking and playing the same 5 chords on the guitar over and over (he’s trying to learn, shh) etc etc.

Family:

William & Jessica Hanlon (parents): AKA the two people he loves most in the world. He’s got a very tight and loving relationship with both of them, especially his dad. He probably calls them like every night.

Bambi (doggo): The family’s border collie, a very good boy. They adopted him when Mike was 16, because that’s how long it took him to get over Mr. Chips.

Leroy & Shirley Hanlon (grandparents): Also very close with them, despite not seeing them as often as he did as a child anymore. Talks to them on the phone often and loves them both dearly.

4 uncles from his dad’s side: Not as close, since they all live scattered around the country with their families, but still family.

2 aunties & a grandma from his mom’s side: His mother and her family don’t really get along. He barely knows them and rarely speaks to them.

Amnesia Status:

Doesn’t remember the summer of Pennywise.

Sometimes he has nightmares about it, and wakes up to his back hurting where the bird scratched him, or his palm stinging. But he immediately forgets and the pain fades.

He has a general feeling of unease literally just from being in Derry, but can’t explain why. It’s just a constant bad feeling in the back of his mind.

Often gets the urge to revisit locations where he encountered IT, but it passes.

Subconscious fear of large or weird looking birds. He’ll fight a chicken no sweat.

He vaguely remembers going to school with the Losers, but only knows them as acquaintances/classmates, not as good friends or anything more.

-Pre-RP Background-

High school:

Mike graduated from Derry High School and didn’t leave Derry until his third year of college.

Without the losers, he went back to being a loner for the rest of middle/high school, despite being in the football team and actually pretty popular. He remained close friends with Stan until Stan moved away for college and they began to forget eachother, and then he just never established any meaningful connections. He still had to deal with racist bullies, but over the years he learned to deal with it better; although he’s still terrified of Henry Bowers to this day.

Transitional Years:

Will was diagnosed with lung cancer during Mike’s senior year. It was very scary and, coupled with his low funds, made Mike reluctant to leave home. So he stayed in Derry and went to community college.

He continued playing football, worked part time/ summers at the library to save money and bought an old used car… but otherwise slowly watched as his dreams and ambitions rotted away day by day in that miserable, prejudiced town. :)

But he really wanted to spend as much time with his family as he could, since he was scared his dad might die any day. So despite everything, it was his choice to stay and he stood by it.

Moving away/Current status:

As Will became more stable and started to get better, his parents started urging him to transfer out of state and finally get out of Derry, because it was obviously fucking depressing him, despite what he said.

He was reluctant to transfer at first, but since he didn’t have the funds to move out of state anyways and he wouldn’t be too far from home if anything were to happen, he decided to do it.

And so, he transferred his credits to the University of Maine, and Mike finally left that little shit hole of a town. He’s thrilled to finally have that awful weight off his shoulders, but he will still phone home every night and visit as often as he can.

[ramajmedia]

IT Chapter 2 Characters Sorted Into Hogwarts Houses | ScreenRant

With the release of IT Chapter Two the epic saga of the Losers Club and their war against the demonic force most commonly referred to as Pennywise has come to it's blockbuster conclusion. And (minor spoiler alert for the information ahead) it's revealed that the dark magic that has been affecting Derry for so long has existed within the literal ground of the land since before history even began.

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So, with Derry situated on top of some of the most powerful mystical energy on earth, it seems like it would have helped if the town of Derry had some education in the ways of magic and how to wield it for their own safety and benefit. Namely, it would have really helped if they had their own Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. So, if the Losers Club and the rest of the Derry population had the opportunity to attend Hogwarts, which Hogwarts house would they all have ended up in?

10 The Shopkeeper - Slytherin

In a little meta wink at the audience members who are big fans of Stephen King's work, IT Chapter Two included a scene of Stephen King playing the shopkeeper in a local thrift store in Derry. The shopkeeper gouges Bill Denbrough when Bill rediscovers his old bike at the store, which goes to show that the shopkeeper is a pretty cunning and clever dude who knows how to play a situation to his advantage. Plus, wearing a face as recognizable as Stephen King's in a little Maine town of all places while still remaining inconspicuous is impressively sneaky for a supposed small town store owner.

9 Henry Bowers - Slytherin

Students who wind up in Slytherin aren't only bullies or psychopaths, but it does seem like Slytherin is home to a disproportionately high number of bullies and psychopaths. And Henry Bowers has always been an angry and scary person who loves to watch other people suffer.

RELATED: 10 Hilarious IT Memes That'll Make Pennywise Seem Hilarious

Henry may have been able to blend right in with the rest of the Slytherin students, and it's not too hard to imagine him as one of Draco Malfoy's henchmen. However, one would hope that a Slytherin education would have allowed Henry to channel more of his negative characteristics in a positive way and get him off the path of total destruction.

8 Mike Hanlon - Hufflepuff

Mike Hanlon would have undoubtedly been a superstar student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and he likely would have been a school prefect. He is also a man who was far braver than most Gryffindors and much smarter than many Ravenclaws. However, the house that suits him best is Hufflepuff. The values of Hufflepuff are a happy and peaceful home, loyalty and friendship, and a commitment to justice and fair play. That describes Mike Hanlon to a T. Hufflepuffs are often the unsung heroes of Hogwarts, but a student like Mike would have given Helga's house the opportunity to shine.

7 Ben Hascom - Ravenclaw

Like everyone else in the Losers Club outside of Mike, Ben Hanscom returns to Derry 27 years after their original fight against Pennywise playing catch up. He's trying to figure out the situation when he's already behind the curve, but he seems to be able to inherently understand and think through what needs to be done in order to effectively battle It as well as keep as many people safe as possible. Plus, it seems like Ben is a very accomplished superstar in his regular life and has coped with his childhood trauma the best out of everyone, which shows there's a big brain to go along with his big heart.

6 Stanley Uris - Hufflepuff

Honestly, if someone like Stanley Uris wound up at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry it'd be pretty ironic, because Stanley is the kind of person who would rather not be involved in the world of magic at all.

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Stanley was forced into the situation with It when he was a child and he is not able to cope with being dragged back into it as an adult. He's a good person and a loyal friend which makes him a good fit for Hufflepuff anyway, but it would have also been a good match because it would allow him to explore magic without any pressure to be the hero, genius, or villain.

5 Eddie Kaspbrak - Ravenclaw

Eddie Kaspbrak is yet another member of the Losers Club who was essentially conscripted into the fight against Pennywise just by virtue of who his friends were, and while he is a morally decent person he has never had a moral compulsion great enough to drive him to actually go on the offense against Pennywise. He knows that it's a fight that needs to be fought, but he doesn't want to be the one to square up. However, despite his lack of moral commitment, he is an undeniably intelligent person, sometimes to the point of his own detriment. For that reason, he's Ravenclaw.

4 Richie Tozier - Ravenclaw

Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak have one of the closest bonds in the entire Losers Club group, and it's easy to understand why. They are both pretty decent people who aren't quite morally righteous enough to want to involve themselves in a potentially deadly battle against a massive force of evil, and their desire to keep themselves safe definitely overrides most of their impulses to do the more dangerous right thing. But Richie is absolutely the most quick-witted member of the Losers Club, so he obviously would have been the rascally class clown of house Ravenclaw at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

3 Bill Denbrough - Gryffindor

Within the Losers Club in IT Chapter Two, Bill Denbrough is pretty much the alternate universe version of Neville Longbottom. He is at his heart a painfully shy and insecure individual, but he has a very strong sense of justice and has a moral backbone that drives him to do things that he would normally never think he's capable of.

RELATED: The Best Performances In Stephen King Adaptions, Ranked

And he's not being heroic because he wants to play the hero, his feelings are incredibly genuine and he feels a personal responsibility to be the one at the front of the line to fight. He is the kind of student Godric Gryffindor would have been proud to call his own.

2 Beverly Marsh - Gryffindor

Out of the entire Losers Club, Beverly Marsh is probably the toughest and bravest of all. It may be because she had the most frightening home life out of anyone, but she is truly made of steel and she is always willing to go up against an enemy that is stronger and more powerful than she is, even if their power seems almost godlike. Every member of the Club contributed something to the group overall, and what Beverly did for the rest of the Losers was give them the strength and courage to do what they were afraid of, and she did that by leading by example.

1 Pennywise - Slytherin

Pennywise is the purest evil being that the Losers Club had ever and will ever come across, but he is also a pretty complete embodiment of everything that house Slytherin is meant to value and represent. Pennywise looks out for his own interests above all other things, he feels superior to all of the humans around him and enjoys flaunting that, and he uses a lot of wily tricks and cunning maneuvers to trap all of his victims in just the way that he wants them to. Pennywise is honestly probably more Slytherin-like than Salazar Slytherin himself, which is scary.

NEXT: The 5 Best & Worst Stephen King Film Adaptations (According To IMDb)

source https://screenrant.com/it-chapter-2-characters-hogwarts-houses/