#helena - lonely

[catastrophicalcat]

Catwoman's Love Interests, Ranked

No. 1. Batman. Predictable? Perhaps. Correct choice? Absolutely. They work purrfectly together. I may roll around to write a similar post for Bruce, but from Selina's perspective, he is an equal to her, values her independence, and helps her believe in herself.

(From the double date in Batman (2016) # 37, where Lois is wearing Selina's outfit)

No. 2-10. Selina herself. She is independent! But seriously, one of the things I loved the most from her 90s run was how not romance-focused she was! It was a lot of fun and refreshing to see female main character just not give a fuuuuck about romance.

(Look at her, just slapping this creep away as a squirrel laughs at him! From Catwoman (1993) #30).

No. 11. Christopher Castillo "Blondie". From Selina's adventures in Rome, the Blond was enamoured, charming, and helpful. Also, it wasn't clear if the attraction was truly reciprocal, or if Selina just got a fun vacation boy toy.

(Catwoman, When in Rome #6)

No. 12 Dean Hadley. I am not sure he really qualifies as a love interest, since I don't think that Selina was into him, but at least he died heroically trying to protect her.

(Can't compete with Batman, dies tragically, from Catwoman (2018) # 34)

No. 13 to 20. Selina on her own some more! Can't get enough of this girl on her own! Love the storyline where she unknowingly has a crush on a serial killer in a dog mask. You know what she did when she found out the truth about her crush? That's right, clawed the shit out of him!

(Catwoman (1993) #53. I think this storyline counts as her loving herself than being into this guy - she barely had any qualms about dumping him once she found out; none of that "but maybe I can fix him" for this cat!)

No. 21. The Riddler. Shocking choice, I know! But I'm thinking here of the Lonely City version - Batman is dead, time has passed, he made amends, they found each other. Doesn't work in other continuities, was fun here.

(Catwoman: Lonely City #3. The reveal that Eddie was a coke addict makes SO.MUCH.SENSE).

No. 22. James Thien. I guess he was fine. I didn't like it because her interest into him was really jarring - this was during the post-wedding break-up period when Selina was generally falling apart. But James was neither fish nor fowl. There wasn't enough development for her to be genuinely interested in him, and her interest was portrayed more like genuine interest than a random hook-up.

(Literally, I think that this is all the development there is! And then I don't remember what happened to him. Maybe he also died? That kind of seems to happen to her love interests a lot. Catwoman (2018) #12)

Nos. 22-90. Selina on her own some more! And Eiko. And others. Never enough of Selina being on her own! I also think that Eiko goes somewhere here probably, if not in my earlier "Selina on her own spot" - I just haven't read the New 52 run so I dunno. Other possible contenders in this range:

Onyx (but I don't think they had enough development)

The Trickster (Reddit tells me he's a Catwoman love interest but I don't remember it so it must have been neither good nor bad)

Spark (also new 52, so I dunno).

OK, this is where we get to bottom of the barrel, where unfortunately most other folks are. BTW, what's up with Selina having so many relationships with older mentor figures?

No. 91. Frank Baz. Some mafioso with whom Selina was hanging out in Italy. Ranked so low since he seems like a bad guy, there was a big age difference with her being really young, and he didn't do that much.

No. 91. Slam Bradley Sr. I think that Brubaker did a decent job making the romance between Selina and Slam Sr. work. I like how the run addressed how messy this relationship was, and how Slam was kind of preying on Selina's vulnerable emotional state. (Slam shouldn't have won that argument, but at least it was raised!) But unfortunately this is ranked so low since Slam becomes kind of a chump later on in the run and Selina's relationship with his son makes this very creepy.

(From Catwoman (2001) #17. Their relationship was actually pretty good in the beginning, but quickly got icky...)

No. 92. Wildcat/Ted Grant. I really like the backstory of Selina learning boxing from Wildcat. It's a sweet little bit setting up her eventual super-heroics, plus, Wildcat is awesome! He's a grumpy old man who is respected by everyone, even Batman (whom he also trained). Which is why I hated when Wildcat/Catwoman wrote her to have a crush on him. Gross! Did I mention that he's old?

(Catwoman/Wildcat #3. The art in this book is really 90s)

No. 92. Slam Bradley Jr. I totally get that hot people in costumes would have one night stands on rooftops after adrenaline rush situations. And the poor guy died right after sleeping with Selina! Nonetheless, ranked so low because it's sooo weird since she slept with his dad - which I think he knew - plus I'm pretty sure that their relationship started really antagonistic. Principles before hoes, bro! Also, not his fault but I don't like how he messed up Helena's paternity story some more.

(Catwoman (2001) #61. No idea why Selina tells the dad the story about how she banged his son?)

No. 93. Cat cult person who kidnapped Selina, dressed her up as princess Leia, and tried to marry her. Forgot this dude's name. Considering the stuff he did, he was a pretty nice dude. But - the stuff he did is pretty despicable!

(Catwoman #31. I really hated this storyline, so I feel like he should be lower, but I also really hated Stark and Valmont, so where can it go? Also not sure that kidnapping and forced marriage qualifies as a "love interest"; may rethink including him altogether but I also wanted to emphasize how much I don't like Stark or Valmont).

No. 94. Stark. Criminal who took Selina under his wing when she was still an underage sex worker, and slept with her. He's also a murderer. Pretty gross person overall, really creepy relationship.

(Selina's Big Score)

No. 95. Valmont. I really hate Valmont, OK? I wrote a whole giant post already about how much I hate him!

[havendance]

Robin III: Cry of the Huntsman

Right now, I am in the middle of both of my major wips and they’re both long and feel like they’re going on forever, so here is something fun and quick and wrote in between for the Helena Dick Roleswap AU. Enjoy.

—

Mob creeps were all the same, Dick thought. Didn’t matter whether they were Italian like Zucco had been or Russian like this latest set. They still chewed up all the innocent lives around them to make their profit. The Russians had killed a father for resisting, and then his daughter for witnessing. For them, it was just part of their twisted game. The least Dick could do was ruin it for them.

His shift at the bar came to an end and he walked back to his place, planning his next move. The presence of KGBeast complicated things.

There was a lamp on when he entered his apartment. Dick knew that it had been off when he’d left.

“Who’s there?” he called, reaching for the escrima he kept stashed near the door.

“It’s just me.”

Dick turned the corner to see that Robin was sitting in his armchair, fingers steepled in front of his face. He relaxed marginally. “What are you doing here?”

“You agreed to team up on this,” Robin pointed out.

“Yes, but that wasn’t an invitation to show up at my apartment. How’d you even know where I live anyway?” And, the more important question, since Dick wasn’t the Huntsman right now. “How did you know who I am?”

“I figured it out. It wasn’t that hard.”

All the effort Dick had put into keeping his identities separate, well the costume and mask at least, and the kid says it wasn’t that hard. It was honestly a little insulting. He sighed. “Mind elaborating?”

Robin suddenly looked shifty. “It’s not important.”

“Considering it’s my secret identity, I think it is.”

“Look, I’m sorry about breaking in. Next time I’ll just meet up with you somewhere else.”

“Robin.”

The kid had stopped his little steepled fingers thing and had started fidgeting with his cape instead. He wouldn’t meet Dick’s eye. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, almost a whisper.

That threw Dick for a loop. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just— I really don’t think you need to know.”

Don’t snap at the kid. You don’t want to scare him off. “I kind of think it’d hurt me more not knowing what holes in my security I’ve got.”

Robin kept fiddling with his cape. He looked up at Dick and then back down again quickly. Dick waited. Finally, the kid said: “Last night, that flip you did. There’s only ever four people who ever managed to pull off.” Dick felt himself freeze. The quad. He hadn’t thought about it, had needed the extra power. Robin kept talking. “Of those, two of them are dead and another’s in Russia.” He gave a little shrug. “Process of elimination.”

Dick remembered to breathe. “You’ve got pretty good eyes to catch that. What if it’d been a triple and you guessed wrong?”

Another pause. This time, when Robin spoke, he sounded almost apologetic. “My parents used to take me to the circus every year, when it was in Gotham. I know what it looks like.”

Oh. “Then, were you…?” It had been nearly three years ago now since Haley’s had last come to Gotham.

Robin looked away again. “I’m sorry.”

That was a yes then. This kid who’s name Dick didn’t even know had been there on one of the worst nights of his life. The one that he could never forget. The one that haunted his nightmares. Judging by the look on the kids face he didn’t have any problems remembering either. He suddenly looked very young. And hell, it had been nearly three years ago. “How old even were you?”

Robin bristled. “I wasn’t a baby. Look, don’t we have mobsters to take down?”

Right. The reason Robin was even here in the first place. Well it wasn’t like Dick wanted to talk about this topic any more either. He let the subject drop. “I’ve got a few leads,” he said. “Give me a minute ti suit up and we can head out.”

“I’ve got a couple too,” Robin said.

“Sounds like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Dick shook off memories of the past as he walked into his room. He didn’t need any more ghosts haunting him tonight when he’d need his focus. Zucco was dead. He’s made sure of that. His parents could rest knowing that Justice had been done. With any luck, he’d be able to ensure the same for the family the Russians had killed. It was time for the Huntsman to work.

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

[apopcornkernel]

i get why helena or selina fans get annoyed about jason, but what i dont really get is the accusation that batfanon steals from helena and selina's stories/roles/relationships with the batfamily and gives it to jason 😭 bc um... do you think these people have touched a comic? (or like, any comic outside ditf or uth)... how would they steal something they probably didn't even know existed HSJDHAJAHSMDBSNSB

[foolofatook001]

hello Lord Huron fans who are also Magnus Archives fans:

I am assigning LH characters to the fears and I am drawing a blank on the Dark and the Corruption (and tbh the Buried and the End are a little shaky)

anyone got ideas?

[eddiemunsn]

this is definitely nonsensical rambling BUT!!! i cant stop thinking about being friendly neighbors with eddie. first name basis and frequent waves of hello or goodbye as one is pulling in or out of their little peking spots, and every now and then you’d join him for a smoke on his porch and you two talked about nothing in particular, but he was always left with more questions than answers. he’s always had his eyes on you— not in a creepy way, he’s more curious and intrigued than anything. he’s always been one to go to bed too late, never running on more than four hours of sleep. so one of the things he’s observed in the time he’s spent restless and awake is that the lamp in your bedroom is always on until the early mornings, and sometimes he can even hear the low volume of your radio as you shuffle around in your room if he’s out by his van. sometimes he can see your shadow but usually it’s just a soft glow. one restless night, he had padded out on to his little porch to smoke a joint. usually he would just light up in his room, but almost everyone in the park smoked pot and he needed the fresh air. the park was lit only by the stars, the moon, and your lamp that was still on. he had half a mind to approach your window and offer you a puff or two, but you beat him to it. the screen door to your trailer creaked open and out you came in your own pajamas, a sheepish smile on your face as you made your way across the “road” between your trailers. you climbed up the few steps and plopped yourself down next to him on the old beat up couch he and wayne had wrestled with the get up and onto the porch. without a word he just passes you the joint and the two of you enjoy each others quiet company as you both star gaze and smoke until the loose lips kick in and you talk about everything and anything until the sun comes up. and after that, neither of you spent another restless night alone and it’s a tradition to smoke together before bed :-)

[cupatty]

[bobfloydsbabe]

My health really decided to fuck with me at the worst possible time. I don’t have time for this nonsense. I have family to deal with, a birthday not to cry on, work, and more family bullshit. I need things to not be disaster and my body to get back in line.

[hotpinkboots]

The Lone Ranger (2013) is so underrated. Like what. Hear me out, if you don't like it, then at LEAST watch it for HER.

[ultramarine-spirit]

I wish athy had more female friends. Yes, the relationship with Jennette is very sweet and all that but still I would have liked that Athy had a best friend but that she was Athy's type. I mean, a grumpy, powerful, hot girl who tried to kill her and would give her the whole world to make her happy 😞

I feel like it would be a lot of fun and besides, this girl would be more competition for Lucas than Kiel.

Sounds like you would enjoy our wlw lucathy AU! /hj

But yeah I get it, I think a fairly valid criticism of wmmap is that Athy doesn't have more relationships with girls her age (she doesn't need to have them, but it would be nice, I think). The noble girls are kind of her friends, but also not really? Like the kind of friends you don't emotionally connect with in any deeper level (I mean, Athy literally feels like a mother figure to them, she straight up says it).

This is more going over the female cast's relationships with Athy, but I love how Lily, the obligatory "maid character", is treated with a lot of respect by the narrative. Despite being a minor character (especially in the manhwa, novel Lily had a bunch of other scenes), she is incredibly important to Athy, as her second (or even first?) mother. Lily is the first person to ever show Athy unconditional love, and that's why Athy immediately remembers their time together when thinking about how she didn't want to let people into her heart, but before she noticed, it was already too late. In other manhwas the "maid character" is there to 1. Be a minor villain early in the story, or 2. Fawn over the FL, which makes me appreciate Lily a lot. Hannah and Seth are also very fun with their almost "boke-tsukkomi" dynamic, and it shows how much they adore Athy. Jennette's characterization is a lot weaker than in the novel, but it's good that neither Spoon nor Plutus fell into this misogynistic narrative other manhwas have going on with any female character that's not the FL. And lastly, Diana's relationship with Athy is incredible, even if they only talked directly for a single chapter, it was one of the most impactful moments in the whole series. Don't wanna ramble about it yet again. Perfect score for you there, Spoon. Great job.

Getting back to the hypothetical female love interest topic, while I kinda get annoyed when manhwas do "yuri bait" (looking at you, Melissa manhwa, I'll never forgive you /j), I would have loved for Athy to get closer to Helena. She named her "lily girl", c'mon! They could have had such a fun dynamic, similar to how Cabel and Athy interacted (another absolutely amazing duo). That's just the little fanfic inside my head though.

[tvrningout-a]

kicking my legs thinking of bronwyn in the context of my wishlist post bc she'd become a one-woman army if she had to in order to get back to her loved one. standing in her way would be foolish bc she would just be a force of destruction; she's lost people bc she wasn't fast enough, strong enough, but that won't be the case this time. it can't be. she's so... unlike herself for a time, trying to find her person, her home, bc what is home to a nomadic creature? it's the people she surrounds herself with and the one person she trusts to keep by her side all this time ( what use is immortality without someone to spend it with? ). and oh, when she finds them again -- the monster melts away like a bad dream. she isn't the valravn who perhaps tore her way through villages trying to find them, who gladly bathed in blood if it meant she'd find them alive. she's just bronwyn, their friend, lover, sister, what have you. and how softly she holds them; how close; how long. she's home, and she'll never let them go again.

[havendance]

A Lonely Place of Dying

Companion piece to this. Also takes place in the helena dick roleswap au.

--

There was a kid in Helena’s apartment. Young, maybe in middle school, dark hair, nicely dressed if a bit grubby. Standing frozen where he’d been poking at the photo album Donna had given her, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Who are you?” Helena demanded. “And what are you doing in my apartment?” He wasn’t what she’d been expecting to find when she came back to find her door unlocked.

The kid jumped back. “I’m sorry!” he said. “I know I shouldn’t have broken in but I didn’t know where you were or when you’d come back and it’s important! It’s really important.”

Helena sighed. “Look, I don’t care what game you’re playing here, kid, but you’ve thirty seconds to get out of here before I call the cops.” She probably wouldn’t actually call the cops, just kick him out herself, but he didn’t need to know that.

“No! I promise this is, umm. Look, Batman needs you!” he blurted out,

“Excuse me?” Helena schooled her face to look like she thought the kid was crazy rather than reflect the spike of adrenaline his words had sent rushing through her.

The boy nodded. “I know you’re—” he glanced around furtively before whispering “—Nightwing and I know that Bruce Wayne is—” back to whispering “—Batman.”

Helena made sure the door was shut behind her. This was not the time to panic. “Who told you?” she demanded. If this was another one of Deathstroke’s games—

The boy had taken off his backpack. He looked up from where he was rummaging through it. “No one!” he said. “I figured it— I mean, it’s not important. I promise I never told anyone.”

“Who did you say you were again?”

“It’s not important.” He dug out a paper folder, shoved it into her hands. “Batman needs you.”

Helena opened it automatically. “Look—” she started to say before looking down and seeing just what was inside. It was Batman: pictures of Batman taken from far too close, amateur enough that it was probably the kid that had taken them. And wasn’t that a comforting thought?

“He’s been bad, really bad since Ja—” he stopped himself. “Since Robin died. I think he’s going to get himself killed.”

Helena flipped through: Batman looking beat to hell. Batman falling off the reservoir. Batman, soaking wet, staggering over to the Batmobile. She’d heard it was bad, heard the rumors that they were thinking of taking down the Batsignal. It was different seeing it. “Where did you get these?”

The boy shrugged. “I took them.” That’s what she was afraid of. They were far too close to the action to be comfortable. Batman should’ve seen him. The fact that he hadn’t was a whole other bad sign on its own. “He needs Robin. To hold him back. To remind him why he does it.”

“Robin’s dead, kid,” Helena said bluntly.

“You used to be Robin. If you go back to being Robin, you can help him. Robin’s the light to Batman’s darkness. He needs it. He needs you.”

That startled a bitter laugh out of her. “Batman’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t need me.” He’d made that clear after Jason, before Jason. Again and again. The wonder wasn’t that he’d fired her, but that she’d managed to last so long before he did.

“No,” the kid sounded almost heartbroken. He’d probably only ever seen the pretty picture they’d put on and not the ugliness underneath. “He raised you! He taught you everything you know. You were Batman and Robin. Can you really just abandon him like that?” He sounded so certain about all of it. That it meant something.

Helena sighed. The kid’s certainty was contagious. There had been good times there along with the bad. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll swing by and see if I can give him a hand. But as Nightwing. I’m not becoming Robin again. I can’t become Robin again.”

The kid sagged in relief. “Thank you,” he said. He started to eye her door.

Helena made a decision. “And you’re coming with me.”

“What?”

She smiled. “You’ve still got some explaining to do, kid.”

—

It took a couple of hours to drive from New York to Gotham. The kid (who’s name she still didn’t have) seemed content to sit in silence, but Helena wasn’t about to let him off that easily.

“So,” she said, after she’d made it out of the city traffic and onto the freeway, “You never told me your name.”

He shrugged. “It’s not important.” He was hugging his back to his chest, staring straight ahead out the front window. “I’m just doing this and then you’ll never see me again. You don’t need to know.”

Helena sincerely doubted that. “You know a lot of big secrets kid. That’s not just something we can let go.”

“Oh.” It sounded like that was occuring to him for the first time. “Even if I promise never to tell anyone? Or are you going to brainwipe me? I promise I won’t tell!”

Helena sighed. “No one’s going to brainwipe you. Just, how did you even figure it out in the first place?”

“Oh, that. It’s kind of silly,” he said. “I don’t think you need to worry about anyone else doing it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Well, you saved my life once,” he said, softly.

“I’ve saved lots of people.”

“As Helena Bertinelli, I mean, not Robin.”

“Oh?”

But she didn’t need to encourage him, he was already telling the story.

“I was 5,” he said. “There was this children’s event I think, some sort of fundraiser, at the Opera House and my parents had taken me. Two Face attacked in the middle.”

It was beginning to sound familiar.

“I don’t remember exactly what happened, but he grabbed me as a hostage I think. He was flipping his coin when you attacked him. You came out of nowhere and hit him with a fire extinguisher.”

Oh, she did remember that. She’d been twelve, with three years of Robin under her belt. Two Face had separated the children from the adults and she’d been there with none of Robin’s usual tools when he announced he was going to start killing people if his demands weren’t met. When he’d pulled out the coin.

“You were crying,” she remembered. “I gave you his coin.” She’d known his name then; she could almost remember it now, at the edge of her memory.

“I still have it,” he said fondly. “I thought you were the coolest ever after that. You were so brave.”

Helena had been terrified. Afterwards, Bruce had yelled at her about it, with the cold voice she’d learnt meant that he was afraid too. And afterwards, he’d held her so tight he thought he would never let her go.

“—and afterwards, I was convinced you had to be Robin because you were so cool.” Helena glanced over to see that he had an absentminded smile on his face. “I was only five. It was kind of silly.”

“It was right.”

“Yeah, but that was just luck. I mean, I looked for other evidence when I got older, and if you know what you’re looking for, you can see the connections, but like. I just got lucky. I mean, I was just a kid.”

He was still a kid, Helena didn’t point out. Instead she said, “All the secrecy, and it’s undone by a child’s guess. Impressive.” If Bruce weren’t currently trying to destroy himself, she’d almost be looking forward to seeing his reaction to it.

“Yeah. I wrote you a thank you note afterwards,” the kid added as an afterthought, “I don’t know if you ever got it.”

She had. It had featured an illustration of her attacking Two Face in crayon and a polite note that had clearly been written out by the kid’s parents, but he had painstakingly signed his name in crayon underneath. What had it been…

“Tim Drake!” She exclaimed at last.

The kid startled. “What?”

“That was your name. Tim Drake.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I couldn’t keep it a secret forever.”

“Nope,” Helena said. “You do realize I’m a detective?”

“Yeah,” the kid— Tim— sounded sheepish.

That thank you note he’d sent was probably still lying around somewhere. Maybe she could get Alfred to dig it up.

[grgie]

it has once again been well over two weeks since my interview with i** and i am starting to think they either process everything internally at the speed of a striking slug or. i havent got the job.

[yeleltaan]

It began with a simple offering, a slice of fruit plucked from her ungloved palm and then pressed gingerly upon his dry mouth. The aroma of citrus heavy in the air, the juice staining his lips.

A gentle offering, a simple action that made but one demand of him:

Let me nurture you.

The Witch Knight urges it carefully past his chapped lips when they part enough to accept her.

"It may be little, but it's what I can offer you."

From @hexenjagd

The dim shelter of her tent has granted his eyes respite from blinding rays, his ears rest from deafening cacophonies. The woven wool wrapped around him shields him from the cold and the many unfamiliar surfaces that have graced his skin, giving him room to come to terms with the shape inside his warm confines, the feel of his limbs as he retreats further into himself.

It's in this mostly motionless surrounding that he can finally direct all his pained focus on her. Where once his finder bore a face of iron plate, same as the rest of the unintelligible figure of animated rock she seemed from the perspective of virgin eyes, now tender sage stares back at him, watching him just as intently. And though the little flesh that no longer waits behind her shell still confounds him, each small gesture upon it beckons the still dormant corners of his ravaged mind. A field of knowledge burnt barren, still the instincts of a being once complete emerge from the ashes. Thoughts run behind that stare, just as his. My self, meet my other.

But before he could recognize her by sight, he knew her by scent. It’s why his heavy eyelids fight to stay open, and his gaze searches aimlessly for her unseen companion. There is a distinct aroma invading his nostrils, and when he feels it press closer alongside her fingers he whines, turns away, because this isn’t her. Only when he feels the moisture on his lips and his mouth parts just enough to inhale more of that new flavor does he understand, this is what, not who.

The piece is pushed inside and his breath hitches, fangs pierce through membrane and the ensuing eruption floods his buds with the rich taste, juice dripping from the corner of his mouth. Dry throat swallows on its own, the effort of untrained muscles vocalized in his low, coarse breathing. He blinks, his eyes lost in the stunning sensation until they seek hers.

You can eat this too. Why else would you think I can? So then, why not have it yourself? Why feed me, why bring me here, why do you look and touch me, and look and hold me, and keep looking just as I look at you.

He can barely move, and nowhere feels safer than here, but he has seen her walk on her two legs and speak the same words as those whispering about him from afar, those who seem much like her but do not join her. Why me? Why you and not them? Why me.

Before she can reach for another piece, his sharp-tipped fingers hook weakly over her arm. Seeing both hands so close, it’s difficult not to see a resemblance. He’s begun to realize he possesses not one eye, but two as well. He has a mouth, he thinks there’s something like her nose at the bottom of his vision, and at times his vision is obscured by ebony strands much like the many on her head. For that reason when he looks at her he wonders: do I look like you? If I saw myself, would I mistake me for you? If the ends of his hands were shorter, maybe. If he wore the same metal caparace she does, possibly.

Using his forearm to support himself the stray leans forward and closes his loose grip, claws curling generously around. Thirsty and hungry, he turns his attention to her side for an instant before he turns his body with just enough strength to flop over her leg and sink his face teeth-first in the handful of fruit with a greedy bite.

[jayarc]

Torture of an Angel ☠️🌙 (à Buenos Aires, Argentina) https://www.instagram.com/p/CidIP54OWqQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[eddiemunsn]

i wish i had an eddie to wait up for me to get home after a late shift only for me to find him snoozing on the couch with pizza on the kitchen counter waiting to be eaten