#poor Mike and Louise

[cazzyf1]

Mike Hawthorn guiding Louise Collins to their plane to go home to England after Peter Collins death

[clowningaroundmars]

aromantic mike chilton for @aggressivelyarospec week!!!! :D

accompanying story under the cut!

It didn't work out with Julie.

They had broken up and decided it would be best to stay friends. After all, with Mike... nothing really changed at all. Like... nothing.

And that was kinda the problem.

Julie didn't think herself to be too judgmental of a person, not after everything everyone's been through. She and the Burners worked hard, played hard, and succeeded together (oftentimes against all odds).

They slept in cuddle piles after dinner some nights whenever Julie could slip away for more than a day without arousing her dad's suspicions. They passed bongs around for a lung-hacking hit or two, went skinny-dipping in the lake at night, patched up each other's bloody wounds countless times.

And then somewhere down the line, Julie fell in love with Mike.

She had no idea when exactly, since she doesn't really do feelings like that, can't afford to with a life like hers. But it happened... somehow.

Julie couldn't quite place exactly what it was that initially drew her to him, especially at first. Sure, the guy was friendly, decisive, assertive without being too overbearing, and unbearably charming. But.

It was the charm that caught poor Julie totally off-guard, really. She'd often hear her father ranting and raving about his golden-prodigal-son-turned-traitor, and his ID photo in his file wasn't really much to look at, either. Julie would never admit it out loud, but she had snuck down to Motorcity for the first time ever with low expectations.

Later, she came back up to her pod in Deluxe with stars in her eyes.

But she wasn't in love with him then, no. She knew this because she was pretty sure her constant Mike Thoughts did not manifest until after the kids all went to Antonio's together for the first time.

It was summertime, around nine months after the group was (un)officially formed. The heat had Mike shirking his jacket and leaving it in Mutt, and his old t-shirt was getting a tad bit tight after all the exercise he was getting around the hideout, especially after Texas moved his workout gear in and Mike took him up on his offer for semi-regular sparring sessions.

And boy, did that Mike fella fill out. Mhmm.

Even Julie-- a girl who was mostly blind to typical male affections directed at her in school-- had to admit to herself that when Mike put on a little more weight in the right places, when his biceps bulged a bit as he flexed an arm and his shoulders got a bit wider... it took a lot more effort to wrench her studious gaze away.

Geez Louise.

Before long, she was doodling their initials and combining both of their names in her little sketchpad. Gag. Gross.

But Mike never seemed to pay attention to her the same way in return. She didn't catch him looking away from her at inopportune times, and he'd never lay a single hand on her aside from a typical friendly pat on the shoulder, or a comfortable lean on an arm while the Burners all lounged around during movie nights. Hell, he seemed more affectionate with his best friend Chuck than he was with her most times.

So she kept her thoughts to herself. Easy peasy. She kept secrets from her dad, from her friends, and now from Mike. Like everything else, she created a neat, separate file in her head and tucked that little secret away. She managed to conceal it for long enough.

Until it became too big to ignore.

And then it happened.

And it really just... happened. Julie hardly registered herself even doing it.

It happened like this: Mike had rescued Julie from certain death at the lake after she crashed an out-of-control 9 Lives out through the barricades and into the water, and they were panting and coughing up water on the sand after Mike succeeded in dragging her out. Dutch and Texas were busy racing around and distracting the Kanebots, luring them all away from the pair.

Julie didn't say anything. Neither of them did. Julie just... surged forward when she blinked the water out of her eyes and saw him, his angelic face hovering mere inches away from hers. She remembered the dewey drops on his long lashes and the warmth of his lips more than anything else.

And then she's pretty sure she blacked out afterwards because the next thing she remembers, she's waking up on the couch wrapped in blankets and towels, wearing Chuck's hoodie.

She doesn't ask anyone why Chuck opted to be the guy to lend his clothes to her.

(It wasn't Chuck who lent it to her though.)

After Jacob makes sure she has a steaming mug of soup in her hands and is generally fussed over enough, he bids her a goodnight and leaves a big holoscreen playing old-timey anime shows for her.

Shortly afterwards, Mike slips into the room on feet far too quiet for a rowdy teenage boy like him. Julie almost misses his entry and startles when she notices him casually leaning on a wall over to her right, almost blending in against the garish grafitti and street signs.

They sat down and spoke quietly, privately.

Julie appreciated that Mike had enough tact and forethought not to confront her in front of all of the guys. Thank god. Julie wouldn't even know how to handle the endless teasing that would inevitably assault her from all angles if they ever even suspected that she had a crush on Mike.

And how embarrassing, really! The only girl on the team falling for the charming and roguish leader of a group of rebels. Double gag.

It was by some miracle that no one ever suspected Julie's true feelings, and that the actual love interest found out before anyone else did. Lucky her!

And incredibly, Mike shared her feelings too! Who would've thought it! Definitely not Julie, that's for sure.

Mike hadn't even seemed to glance her way at all in all the time they had known each other. He always maintained the same level of friendliness with her as he did with the other guys. But he confessed then that he knew Julie was special, and that their bond that grew in the time they had known each other was special, too.

Wow. Look at them, both hiding their feelings so well! It's like they were meant to be.

So they agreed to go steady.

Eventually, they told the rest of the Burners. Well, it really was just that it was kinda hard for them to ignore when Julie would sneak her index finger over to Mike's hand and hook it onto his pinkie as they walked back to their cars after a quick errand run for the Skylarks or an easy mission.

So they decided to make the announcement at Antonio's, which Julie thought was perfectly poetic. It was where she first fell in love with Mike, and now here they were a year and a half later, making it official.

They didn't expect the other guys' reactions, though. The Burners received the news... lukewarmly.

"You guys were in love?" Texas spewed bits of pizza all over the table as he chewed with his mouth open. Ugh. Typical Texas.

"Oh! Wow... uhm. Congrats, guys." Chuck seemed to hide behind his hair even more as his shoulders hiked up in a nonchalant shrug.

Dutch rubbed his chin. "...Yeah. Uh, yeah...? Cool. Congrats, you two."

And then silence fell over the table.

"Is... is there a problem with this, or?" Julie dared to press.

Everyone silently exchanged glances.

Mike-- bless his heart-- misread the situation and clasped his hands together on the table.

"Guys, look," he started, "this isn't gonna change anything about the team. We're still gonna be friends, I’m not prioritizing Julie over anyone else on missions. It's just... we're gonna... we're gonna be the Burners, except I’m dating Jules now! That's all!"

Mike smiled warmly at all his friends. Chuck chewed on his lip.

Dutch bobbed his head thoughtfully. Then, after a while, he said "nah, yeah. We figured. I mean, you're a pretty great guy so it's not like we thought you were gonna up and abandon us or anything. It's just that... uh. So when did this uhhh, yanno, this whole thing start?"

Julie blinked.

Mike cocked his head. "Start?" He asked.

"Y'know, like when did y'all start liking each other? Because uh, no offense, but this is kinda comin' out of the blue for us. Literally nobody thought this was gonna be a thing. Tell us some stories!"

Mike blew out a breath and leaned back in the booth. Julie smiled.

"Weeeellll," Julie squinted with excitement and then let the cat out of the bag.

She told them all about it, how in this very same booth she watched as Mike's t-shirt stretched over his muscles all those months ago and how his smile seemed to shine brighter than the diner's neon signs. Then about how she leaned against Mike's broad chest after agonizing for hours over not being able to free him from her father's maximum-security prison that one time. About all the dreams she'd have of them together, the intimate late-night talks they'd have while having a couple of drinks on the rooftop of some abandoned building. How she loved his bright eyes and strong hands...

When she finished, she had a dreamy kind of look all over her face. Mike had a brow quirked, but he smiled back at her all the same.

Everyone exchanged glances again.

"So Mike. Was it like that for you?" Chuck asked eventually. It had a strange sort of lilt to it, like he was in on an inside joke that Julie wasn't.

She bristled a bit.

"Oh! Uh." Mike glanced around quickly. "Not... really? But Julie's super pretty, so when she confessed to me, I was pretty stoked."

Mike grinned like a goofball. Julie grinned like a goofball. The rest of the Burners looked skeptical.

"Hm. Cool! Well, great." Chuck turned back to his loaded pizza slice.

And just like that, things mostly went back to normal.

And, uh... Mike was right, this... really wasn't changing anything between them and the Burners. Like at all.

A small part of Julie was kind of hurt by it, but she tried to wave the feeling away. It was nonsense, and she should be happy. Mike loved her! He just wasn't a romantic type, that's all. He loved his friends, loved being a Burner... it was fine.

Right?

It was normal for her to have to remind Mike every now and then to go out on a date with her. He's a busy guy, and this was his first relationship. Julie just had to be patient.

Patient... patient. Yeah. She could be patient.

It was when Chuck joined them for their sixth "movie date" in a row that the patience was starting to run a bit thin, though.

Chuck and Mike settled side-by-side on the communal couch, swapping snacks as easily as breathing and nursing a popcorn bowl between them. Mike hooked an arm over Julie's shoulder though, so Julie said nothing.

It was a couple of months later when Mike makes a quiet confession to her as they laid together in his pristine bed one night.

"I don't really like kissing all that much," he mumbles, face half-buried into his pillows. "But I like holding you. Is that okay?"

Julie's heart sinks into the covers. But she nods anyways. "Yeah. That's okay."

"Really? Do ya mean it? It's not weird or anything, right? We can still be together but not kiss. Maybe I can give you forehead kisses instead?"

Julie sighed softly. "Mmnyeah, that's fine."

"It's not you, it's me, Jules. I just--"

"Mike. Trust me, I get it. It's okay, seriously."

Mike gave her a grateful smile back.

Damnit. Well.

Anyways, life continued on. Julie resigned herself to accepting the fact that her boyfriend was just simply a guy's guy.

Julie liked cars but Mike was all over Mutt. Loved the damn thing more than he loved her, honestly. She loved being a Burner, but it seemed like it was Mike's purpose, like he was more devoted to the city under the dome than he was to his girlfriend. And above all, Mike loved the Burners. All of them. He spent a bit more time with Chuck than he did with anyone else in the team, but he was always there for everyone just as passionately.

Which was. Fine.

Freeing Motorcity from her father's reign of terror was indeed way more important than holding hands with a cute boy!

Duh, of course, stupid Julie.

Whatever.

When they inevitably broke up, it blindsided Mike. He thought they were the best of buds! The bestest of buds-- aside from him and Chuck, of course! But while he loved Chuck fiercely, his love for Julie was... different. Fierce but different. He could never describe it in words but he knew what he was feeling was real.

He loved Julie! So when she suddenly broke up with him, it was like getting hit with a sack of flour out of nowhere.

They were leaned up against Mutt's hood on a cliff overlooking Lake Erie when Julie finally broke the news. They were casually smoking a cigarette, passing it back and forth. Mike's idea of a "date." Anyways.

"I can't really keep doing this, Mike." Julie sighed out a cloud of smoke. She said it so matter-of-factly, as casually as if she were simply commenting on the weather.

Mike whipped round to look at her. "Keep doing what?"

"This," Julie threw her hands up and tucked them into her vest pockets after handing Mike the cigarette back. "This... 'relationship'. It's not working out."

"What... whaddya mean? We just started dating, it's kinda too early to tell--"

"No, Mike." Julie interrupted loudly. Her eyes were avoiding Mike's face carefully. "No... it's not. We've been together for months and we have never moved on from our friendship. You... just admit it, dude. You're just not into me."

Mike pushed himself off of Mutt and placed his hands on both of her shoulders, forcing them to stand face-to-face. "Julie, look at me." He had his jaw set.

Julie swallowed as she peered up at him from her bangs.

"I love you more than you can ever know. I know I’m messing up, but... but I’m trying, okay? Just give us one more chance, Jules. I can make it right, I know it!"

Julie took a step back, wrinkling her nose. "Mike! Just give it up, okay? I know you don't feel the same about me as I do about you," she pleaded, mortified. "It's okay! It's fine! We can just move on and let it go!"

"B-but it's not! No, Julie c'mon, bro--"

"Bro?!" Julie exploded, hands in the air now. "Are you hearing yourself right now? Am I your girlfriend, or your bro?"

Mike gaped at her like a fish, mouth opening just to close again. Then, he hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets.

He kicked a couple of rocks off the cliff, watching the pebbles scatter and plummet dozens of feet below.

Then he ran his hands through his hair, a nervous habit of his, before returning back to Julie.

He exhaled loudly. "What... what's the difference? You... isn't that what dating is all about? Being best friends with your partner?"

Julie glared at him. "Yes! And it's also about being more than that, too!"

Mike scoffed. "More than friends? What does that even mean? Nothing is more important than friendship, Jules. Not in Motorcity."

"Nothing is more important than friendship?! Mike--" Here, Julie took a step back to pinch her nose and exhale. "Look. When I confessed my feelings to you for the first time, what were you feeling?"

"What was I feeling? Uh, I dunno, happiness I guess? What, did you want me to say that I didn't care? I care about your feelings, Julie! I do!"

"So you started dating me because you didn't want to hurt my feelings?!" Julie shouted.

"Where are you getting that from?!" Mike shouted back.

"Mike! You are just not into me! I can just tell! It's okay! W-we can just be friends, like how we used to be. I don't even know why you're fighting me so hard on this, I'm the one breaking up with you. You can't change my mind!"

"Right," Mike huffed, "because you don't love me anymore. No, I get it. It's fine."

They glared at each other for a beat.

Then, Julie shoved her hands back into her vest pockets. "No, Mike. I do love you. I just think..." she sighed, all the wind in her sails blowing away, "I just think it's best for us to go our own separate ways."

Mike startled. "Wait, what? Jules... are you...? You're not leaving the Burners, are you?"

"No, I'm not leaving the Burners." Julie says through clenched teeth. "I'm just gonna take a quick break and then when I come back? We're gonna be just friends again, Mike. Alright?"

Mike inhales deeply, his own anger trickling out of him like water as well. "... Fine. Fine, yeah. Whatever you want, Julie." He hangs his head.

They then stare off into the horizon together, watching the twinkling star-like pinpoints of light on the underside of the dome. Watching as the lake's waters undulate and shimmer in the darkness of the cool evening, a gigantic dark mirror reflecting the pinpoints back to the ceiling.

Mike idly scuffs his boot on the ground again, putting out their shared cigarette. In a sad sort of way, the dying ember of the smoldering stick being stomped out into rocks and gravel was a lot like their relationship: dead and done. And of course it had to be Mike to put them both out, huh. Right.

Real poetic.

Julie turns around wordlessly, climbs into Mutt and sits in Chuck's seat.

Time to go.

After a few seconds Mike nods once, fixes his collar and slides into his own seat.

The ride back up to Deluxe is quiet.

It was a couple years later when the kids were a bit older --but not that much older at the same time-- that they all filed past the doors of Antonio's and slid right into their usual booth.

Except this time, it had been a long while since they had the time to relax like this. These days, Kane's attacks were getting more and more savage, brutal... and cunning.

Kane's latest attempt at a hostile takeover of Motorcity involved way too many sneaky double-crossing spies all trying to break the Burners up and weaken the city's best defense. Sneaky bastard, that Abraham Kane.

But they thwarted him yet again, despite it all. They beat the bad guys, restored peace back amongst the gangs and the civilians, and saved the day.

It had taken weeks this time, but they succeeded.

So now to celebrate, they're placing their orders for the greasiest, most heart-clogging fast food on the menu and sitting back to happily sip at their drinks. They're finally enjoying their time together again, and Mike is especially pleased that everyone made it out alive.

Sitting elbow-to-elbow with his bestest friends in the world, Mike takes advantage of a lull in the conversation to clap his hands together and get everyone's attention.

"Okay, guys!" He announces. "So, I'm pretty sure we're all kinda fried after... y'know, everything. Everyone's probably too tired to care about what I'm going to say next! So... confession time."

"Hmhmm! Spill, then," Chuck smirks, his chin in his cyborg hand. It was a recent upgrade to his prosthetic, and it shone a beautiful silvery-blue under the diner lights.

Mike chuckles nervously. "Uh, I... I think that... I figured out that I can't fall in love!"

Everyone stares at him.

Chuck casually slurps his milkshake through a straw.

Dutch turns to him then. "Wait. You knew?"

Chuck sits up. "Uhh hahaha, whoa. Where'd that come from? You psychic or somethin'?" He deflects awkwardly.

"You're clearly not surprised," Dutch points out.

"Pfft yeah I'm not surprised. Who's been Mike's best friend since, like, kindergarten again?"

"Ah. And ya didn't think to let me know anything back when we were dating? Sure would've saved us a lot of time," Julie quipped drily.

Chuck holds his mismatched hands up. "Now hold on a minute! I didn't know back then, obviously. Besides, you two dated years ago for like... three seconds!"

"Two years ago, smartass," Julie snips back.

Mike clears his throat conspicuously. "Guys! Guys, no need to fight over me," he jokes awkwardly, "because I, uhm, I've decided I don't belong to anybody! I'm just me, and I'm not dating anyone. Like, ever."

Everyone turns back to him again.

With four pairs of eyes on him, Mike draws in on himself a bit as he continues. "Yeah, it's. It's something that I've been kinda discovering about myself and I'm still... exploring it. But I'm pretty sure I've never had a crush in my life. I was just walking through life distracted by everything else for so long that I never noticed it, but... yeah. I've just. I've just never felt love for anyone else before, I guess."

"Which is fine," Chuck blurts out suddenly. "It's... it's fine! That Mike's never fallen in love with anyone. It happens. Some people just don't experience a common thing most people do... like romance, or sex. Yeah! Totally normal!"

Dutch smirks at Chuck. "You too, then? You a non-romantic as well?"

Chuck shakes his head so hard his bangs swing. "No! Nuh uh, I'm a lover, not a fighter. I'm definitely a romantic!"

"Why so nervous all of a sudden, then?"

"Because," Chuck replies, "because... it's fine! To not ever fall in love or like... date, or kiss or have sex or whatever. We're in Motorcity now, and we can get to do whatever we want. And if we don't wanna date, then we don't have to!" Then he clamps his mouth shut.

Mike perks up then. "That's right! And ah, yeah! Speaking of, Chuckles... lemme tell ya, I really gotta hand it to ya. If it weren't for you, I'd've never figured this one out. So, thanks, buddy! As always, you really had my back on this one."

Chuck and Mike smile at each other and Texas raises a brow.

"Huh?" Texas says. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

Chuck titters nervously as Mike pulls up a screen and opens up a forum.

"It means that Chuckles here helped me find a site that explained everything I was experiencing! Or... not experiencing, really."

Chuck clears his throat, clearly relieved. "Uh, yeah! Well, after Mike's like, 10th girlfriend that one time he couldn't stop bringing people back home, he came to me all frustrated and stuff and... well, we went off to find my friends in the LARPing arena to see if anyone had any idea why he was burning through dates like Mutt burns through tires. And so someone suggested he might be aromantic, and uh... well, the rest is history!"

Dutch and Julie hummed in acknowledgement.

Everyone knew what that was like, how weird it was that Golden Child Mike all of sudden started bringing people home from parties and bars shortly after his breakup with Julie. Sometimes he even had two people on his arms, some men, some women. Never the same person after two or three times, though.

They were all perplexed when they first heard laughing and chattering behind Mike's bedroom door. Once the moaning started, though... well! Everyone poked fun at him the mornings after and teased him to varying degrees, but things were mostly chill in the beginning.

Everyone remembered Mike's frustrations after a while, though. How he could never quite land a steady relationship-- no matter how hard he tried, with whoever. It got to the point where the Burners stopped their teasing and became quite concerned after Mike introduced his 5th girlfriend in the span of like... 6 months, once upon a time.

It was shortly after his final breakup that Mike flopped down onto his best friend's messy bed one evening and finally had The Conversation.

It went well, all things considered. Chuck, patient as ever, listened to his friend and then when he couldn't offer any solid advice, he offered a distraction. The LARPing arena proved to be much better help than they could ever hope for.

Ever since then, Mike's been up late into the night often, completely engrossed in all things aromantic. He wanted to learn more about it, yearned for a community that knew exactly what he was feeling; so he stayed awake just swiping through sites and PDFs on his holoscreens, eating every bit of information up.

Now, it looked like Mike was at peace with himself and his station in life after all this time. That was a relief!

"Aromantic! That's it! Look at this, guys." Here, Mike grins and pulls up a photo of a striped flag. "This is the community flag. Look familiar?"

The colors of the flag had two shades of green at the top that then cascaded into white, then grey and then black.

Texas leaned forward. "It looks like Mutt!" He practically shouts.

Everyone laughs.

"Yeah, that sure is a you flag if I've ever seen one," Julie quips.

"Right? Like it was meant to be! So I guess I'm part of this community, then. I mean, this really is a kickass flag..."

"But what does that mean, though? That you can never fall in love with anyone, ever?" Julie asks.

Mike closes his screens and clasps his hands on the table, exhaling a bit. "Uhh, well? Well, yeah! I can't ever fall in love... but it doesn't feel that way to me! Ugh, I'm probably gonna do such a bad job explaining this," he laughs self-consciously.

"It's okay, dude. Take your time," Dutch smiles warmly.

Mike shoots him a grateful smile back. "... It... it's like. Well? It's like... I've never felt butterflies in my stomach before, so I have no idea what that's like. But I like you guys, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. I love hanging out with you all even though I don't think about any of you guys like that. I love making friends-- like true friends-- and I can't stop thinking about how happy hanging out with people makes me. I guess I'm just way more platonic than romantic, because I am just... so bad at love! God, I've never had so much trouble with anything in my life before like I have with romance," he groans, grimacing.

"And when Mike Fucking Chilton says that, that's how you know he's struggling!" Dutch puts in.

Everyone giggles.

"Wow," Julie gives Mike a side-long glance. "Finally. Something that The Great Mike Chilton is bad at! We've finally got him, boys."

Texas leaps out of his seat and enthusiastically karate-chops the air. "Hoo-WAH!!! Finally! Something I got over on ya, Mike. Texas is better at romancing than you!"

Julie rolls her eyes.

Mike guffaws. "Psshhwhat? C'mon guys, I'm bad at plenty of stuff. This isn't the first!"

"Oh yeah? Name one thing!" Dutch challenges.

"Uhhm well uh, I...? I'm pretty bad at... hm." Mike drums his fingers on the table. "I'm bad at coding! I'm not nearly as good as Chuck at the software and tech side of things!"

"But ya could be! You could totally learn how to, if you'd just sit down with me for more than 20 minutes," Chuck points out.

Mike stubbornly folds his arms across his chest. "Well, I don't wanna! What're you gonna do about it?"

And just like that, the kids all return back to normalcy, bickering and quibbling about nothing as they finally receive their food from the waitress. Soon after, Chuck and Texas are throwing pizza toppings and wadded up paper at each other and Mike is mom-ing at them to quit it before they all get kicked out.

It was as if nothing even happened.

It was simultaneously comforting and also thrilling how easily Mike was accepted back into the fold; the Burners' Heartless Leader who could never fall in love.

On the inside, Mike was deeply grateful and his heart felt full upon learning this, though. It was a nourishing feeling that his bestest friends in the whole world who worked hard, played hard, lived fast and free alongside him... they loved him and accepted him back, no matter what. It was a much nicer and fuzzier feeling than any romance-filled relationship or hookup ever gave him.

Now, the Burners are finally leaving the diner, all tipsy and giddy from their impromptu late-night happy hour session.

Mike has a casual arm slung over Chuck's shoulder as they traipse on over to Mutt. Everyone casually daps each other up and offers quick goodbyes before climbing into their respective cars.

Mike slides behind the wheel and exhales. Chuck clicks himself into his secure harness.

"Well! That went pretty well! A little too easily, honestly but," Mike breathes.

Chuck's blonde head bobs. "Well yeah, dude. Of course. What'd ya think, that'd we kick you out of the team for that?"

Mike shrugs and turns his skeleton key into Mutt's ignition, bringing her to roar awake again. "I mean... no. But, y'know. It's weird, having a leader of a gang that can't ever fall in love, right? Like some heartless freak or somethin'. I dunno," he chuckled wryly.

Chuck frowns. "Mike. You're not a freak," he says firmly.

Mike gives his best friend a sidelong glance. "Chuck..." he speaks, voice low, "it's not like that! You know what I mean... it's just that sometimes people who are different don't get treated so well all the time, yanno?"

"Yeah, sure, back up in Deluxe," Chuck argues. "But it's different down here in Motorcity. It's good here for people like us!"

Mike hums thoughtfully as he drums his fingers on the wheel. "Yeah, you're right..." then, he smirks at Chuck. "So if that's true, then why didn't you come out, back there? I actually thought you were gonna do it. It even looked like Dutch suspected something, too!"

Mike smiles at his friend, who is doing his best impression of a carseat cover now.

"Mmnyeah... yeah, I could've." Chuck gives a noncommittal shrug, hesitating.

"What's wrong?"

After a few seconds, Chuck swipes at his bangs self-consciously and clears his throat. "Uhmm well... being aromantic and never falling in love is kinda... badass, don'tcha think? But for a guy like me, never wanting to have sex and being a dope for romance is just pathetic," he laments. "If people hear that I'm asexual and that I never want to bang anyone, I'd get laughed out of the room! It's not an asexual thing, Mikey, it's a me thing."

Mike throws Mutt into reverse and backs her out of their parking spot with practiced ease.

"Chuckles. My guy. Look, who cares what other people think? If you don't wanna bone, you're just not gonna. That doesn't hurt anyone at all, so screw anyone who says anything about it. If anyone gives you a hard time, call me up and I'll spin the block for you,"

Chuck bursts into a peal of nervous giggles. "Whoa, whoa Mikey, geez! Christ, thanks, man but that's really not necessary. I appreciate you, though,"

They smile at each other again.

Then after a beat, Mike adds, "plus, if they know about aromanticism, they're gonna eventually find out about asexuality, too, dude."

Chuck laughs weakly as he clutches his arms. "O-oh...! Yeah... yeah that's tr--"

Mike suddenly slams his boot down on the gas pedal and Mutt growls as she lurches into hundred-mile-speeds from a standstill. Her tires screech loudly on the pavement and she leaves a giant plume of smoke and dirt behind as everyone careens over a drop straight onto the Deluxian Supply Pipes.

"Miiikkee-eeyyyy!!! We just ate!" Chuck screeches, horrified. He clings onto the car seat with both hands as Mike laughs.

Chuck's screams and Mike's loud, joyous shouting and whooping can be heard far and wide throughout Motorcity as they race all the way back home.

[mable-stitchpunk]

Could we get descriptions of the human characters, any original designs, and any differences the animatronics have from canon designs in Home and when any appearances may have changed throughout the story? I wanna draw some events from the books but I'm kinda blind to character descriptions in stories unfortunately.

Sure thing!

Mike stands about average height and is of athletic build. Like, not ripped, but he runs regularly and stays in shape almost getting himself killed all the time. He has sharp, blue eyes and black hair that's usually styled to look a little unkept. He has a mild tanned skin tone.

Jeremy stands slightly shorter than Mike and also has blue eyes, and almost always is seen wearing his glasses. His hair is blond and goes to about his neck. He has a pale skin tone and his features are a bit more softer.

Fritz stands a couple inches taller than Mike and Jeremy. He has brunette hair that's kept short, brown eyes, and usually keeps some stubble on his chin. He has a darker skin tone from Mike- I suppose dark tan is sort of the best way to describe it. Mature but friendly features. Dips from having "worked all night" rings under his eyes to a "slept fine" lack of them, and back and forth.

Natalie looks pretty much exactly like Vanessa. I don't know how that ended up happening, but it did. 👀

Initially, Scott's physical description was kept majorly up to interpretation for the reader, but since then he's sort of turned into a brunette with hazel eyes. He has visible but faded scars on his cheeks and across his body from his accident. He lost his lower right leg and wears a prosthetic, though is usually covered by his pants. He frequently wears cardigans and sweaters, slacks, comfortable and soft clothing. He wears glasses when he works and reads, but doesn't require them elsewise.

When CGHA began, Scott looked especially weary and was taking poor care of himself. Living as a recluse and showing such by usually existing in a bathrobe and staying unkept. By the time of GHIAB, Scott is consistently cleaned up and looks healthier.

Louise stands a little taller than Natalie, usually because she wears heels. She has a soft, heart-shaped face and slender but curvy build. Though initially introduced with brown hair, she dyed it red during Halloween and has kept it that way since. She tends to wear skirts and dresses with matching nails and makeup.

Tabitha is a middle aged woman with short brown hair and is frequently seen with a 'I'm done with this world' look on her face. She has a heart-shaped face that matches Louise's, but not as youthful or full.

Chrissy has wavy or semi-curled blond hair and big blue eyes. If that sounds similar to Susie from Pizzeria Simulator, that was in fact another Natalie-Vanessa situation. XD Though Chrissy's hair is not nearly as curled and is more naturally tussled.

All of Charlie's friends stick pretty close to their graphic novel versions.

Gregory looks the same as in Security Breach and while Cassie hasn't appeared yet (in case you're curious), she will have her cutout design.

Ness is a pale woman with shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes. She has body proportions very similar to that woman who's been running around in a bunny suit, which is probably a coincidence.

Okay, now with the major humans out of the way, onto the animatronic changes!

Marionette looks a lot like canon Mari. The only difference is that his neck is a little shorter- though later versions of the Puppet shortened the neck anyways. XD

Foxy looks relatively similar to Fnaf 1/Fnaf AR Foxy. The only difference being that as of the middle of CGHA, Foxy was repaired. He no longer has a tear in his chest and now has fabric over his hand, but still has his hook. Foxy has fabric lower legs and feet that he wears during showtime, but he takes them off when he's not on the clock. His shorts have been repaired and during work hours he can be seen wearing a green pirate coat (the pirate coat from Captain Foxy's Dark Ride in Help Wanted).

Security Puppet Charlie looks a little softer than Pizzeria Simulator Security Puppet. Originally she was supposed to just be that same one, but I keep imagining her with a head and face that's a little close to Mari's in shape, though still with the rounder eyes. The cuteification of Charlie.

Baby originally looked like Scrap Baby, but over the course of AFLH she was repaired. Having plates replaced and repainted to look more like a complete version of Scrap Baby. In GHIAB, Baby took down her pigtail wires and changed them into a low ponytail (to regain her own identity) and then began to wear a small hat. The hat is a refurbished Freddy had, covered in red crushed velveteen with an orange band and a feather, and is a gift from Scott.

Ennard originally looked very much like normal Ennard, though a little more put together. His hands resemble the ones from Ennard's Help Wanted cutout picture instead of the knotted wires like in Sister Location. At the end of AFLH, Ennard got shot in his right eye and had to replace it with a yellow one, with his left remaining blue.

As of GHIAB, Ennard was gifted a technician suit styled to look like a clown costume. Because I'm feeling lazy, here's the exact design from the chapter-

"It looked like the coat a ringleader would wear, though green in color and without coattails. Golden colored buttons lined two rows in the front, with a zipper hidden under an edge of fabric between them. The collar was a deeper, emerald color and edged with sequins that matched the buttons. The sleeve's cuffs matches the collar, but with an edge of a white frill lining it.

The pants had one leg green and the other yellow and were made out of a slightly stretchier material, but otherwise looked like normal pants. There were a pair of new work gloves and boots in the bottom. These were relatively simple compared to everything else, just forest green to somewhat match the theme of the rest. There was a velveteen red ribbon in the bottom, likely to be tied in a bow."

Balloon Boy is in the Little Joe body from Sister Location instead of his old BB body due to concept unification.

Springtrap looks a little less deteriorated than he did in Fnaf 3 because of the time difference.

The last notable animatronic change/appearance is Jake.

Jake is the old Sun. So, his body resembles Sunnymoon's except greyed out due to his lack of glow. Jake wears the Stitchwraith's mask, of which a lone blue eye peeks through, and his tattered black coat (which is often equated to a trash bag like material). Underneath his mask, his face is damaged from having parts removed. His pants are tattered and cut short, and his lower leg has been replaced with an endoskeleton one off of the old Stitchwraith body.

...And yes, that does look vaguely similar to Eclipse. XD That was another one of my patented random fnaf predictions, lol.

I hope that covered everyone! If not, drop me a line and I'll add more! ^_^

[kudosmyhero]

Superman: The Man of Steel (vol. 1) #14: Night Moves

Read Date: April 11, 2023 Cover Date: August 1992 ● Writer: Louise Simonson ● Penciler: Jon Bogdanove ● Inker: Dennis Janke ● Colorist: Glenn Whitmore ● Letterer: Bill Oakley ● Editor: Mike Carlin O'Neil ◦ Dan Thorsland ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● Team Metropolis-and-Gotham-Are-NOT-Just-Across-the-Harbor-from-Each-Other ● for a long time, my head canon put Metropolis on the West coast. Superman just strikes me as sunny. Plus when I watched the movie when I was a kid, I remembered seeing scenes from California. I realize now those were just brief shots, but it planted a seed that Metropolis is like L.A. or something. I suppose I can accept that Metropolis is in the east somewhere, but I really dislike the idea that it's right next door to Gotham. /rant (just a p.s. to add that this comic doesn't mention their proximity. just the fact that Robin is in Metropolis reminded me of it.) ● DC has a long history of having vampires, so… no surprises for me here ● ok, the Troll dolls on display really seal this panel for me ^_^

● oo, Robin's cape looks beautifully long and flowy in this panel

● I'll give Jimmy Olsen this: his taking his shift of watching over Lucy seriously. he's loaded for bear vampire! ● awww, some poor guy at the grave of his wife and child, mourning deeply and contemplating suicide, and the vampire thinks, "Losers make dull prey." Jeez! ● yikes this vampire can be creepy! ● heheh, Olsen almost stakes Robin. or I should say, he tries to stake Robin. Robin can handle himself. …never mind, Olsen just clobbered Robin in the face with a bottle. at least they have each other's identities figured out. ● (I go back and forth between liking Robin's split-toe boots and feeling twitchy about how weird they must feel) ● crucifixes and holy water don't work ● aaaand Robin accidentally stakes Jimmy. wth is going on? ● the pacing felt a little off, but overall the story was entertaining. ● 👏👏👏

Synopsis: {none available… dammit}

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Superman:_The_Man_of_Steel_Vol_1_14)

Fan Art: Superman in flight by JPRart

Accompanying Podcast: ● Robin: Everyone Loves the Drake - episode 22

[hitchell-mope]

Stranger things Downton Abbey esque au

None of them are like the Crawley’s. But they did get affected by the titanic. The rich families are the Wheeler’s, Sinclair’s and Harrington’s. The poor families are everybody else. Ships are mileven, Jopper, lumax, jancy and duzie. Got that? Good. Now let’s begin

Nancy was arranged to be married to Ted’s cousins oldest son, Theodore Wheeler. He died on the titanic. So now she’s been arranged to marry Steve Harrington. However she’s far more interested in the families stablehand, Jonathan Byers

Hopper’s the captain of the local constabulary. He rescued Jane after she escaped from a workhouse. She’s now his adopted daughter

Joyce is Nancy’s governess and Mike and Holly’s nanny. She’d already had Jonathan and Will by the time she was hired so they worked around it. And she kept the job even after she and Hopper got married

Dustin’s the son of the Sinclair’s cook Claudia. He spends most of his time not in the kitchen or with the boys being corralled by Lucas and Erica’s put upon nanny in training Robin Buckley.

The boys are still friends. They spend a lot of time reading the Time Machine, Jekyll and Hyde, Oz, war of the worlds and any other book they can get their hands on that Karen and Louise have prohibited Mike and Lucas from reading

Max is the Harrington’s adopted daughter. Her and Steve have an understanding. She can do and go wherever and whatever she wants and he won’t tell Simon and Sophia. As long as she doesn’t tell Simon where his prized tobacco got to.

The Bingham’s run a school for the poorer children in the town. Dustin also likes spending time there. They’re happy to have him around. So long as he doesn’t distract Suzie. Let’s just say that particular mission was a spectacular failure

Lucas caught Max petting Hopper’s police horse. They hit it off right away. And they’ve made a pack to get engaged should Simon and Sophie ever eye up Troy as a potential husband for Max.

Mike immediately took it upon himself to show Jane around the Wheeler estate. He also gave her a necklace and a few rings he knows neither Nancy nor Karen will miss.

Argyle’s the Wheeler family cook. And Jonathan’s only friend apart from Will. He’s not exactly a French level chef. Stroganoff and hollandaise are his specialties. But never fear. Joyce is always around to help if he asks

[pointnumbersixteen]

Random Notes from a 3:30AM Rewatch of the Back Two-Thirds of the Gray Lady

1) Probes, Captain? Where do you think probes are coming into this? Can you even get probed? Have you thought about this extensively?

2) “Knot-tying, tent-pitching...” Um, Pat, I know you’re talking about camping, but that’s not where my mind went with those two.

3) No, Julian, that isn’t blackmail, it’s extortion. You should know that, because you’ve probably been on one end or the other of both of them at some point. 

4) Is it just me, or is Mary’s hair and make-up less messy this season? I feel like there’s less soot on her face and her bangs aren’t quite as wild. 

5) “She no porcupine!” 

6) Nigel, you’re my favorite plague ghost. I want some milk.

7) I’d buy Louise’s pleasing cheeses. 

8) 50/50 chance I’d watch psilogger-guy’s show if it was midnight and I had nothing else to do. 

9) I agree, Walter. What is holding up Lady Button’s hair? How do you get it to stay up like that. I can’t keep mine from eventually falling out of a ponytail. 

10) While we’re on Walter, most of the plague ghosts seem the same or similar to the ones they portrayed in the first series, but Ben’s hair (including the color), makeup and costume for Walter seem to have changed dramatically for the second series.

11) And while I’m on the plague ghosts, this episode establishes that Lolly’s ghost and Simon’s (Geoff) and Ben’s ghost (Walter) and Katy’s were married. I wonder how many people in their villages ended up with or without their relatives. Because there are a lot of ghosts in the plague pit, but clearly not an entire village’s worth, so some of them must have moved on/never became ghosts in the first place. Like, are Jemima’s parents down there, or is she all alone? And since she’s the only kid we ever see, are all of the parents stuck there without their children?

12) Fanny’s little “Please!” when she asks to come out of the basement gets me. Like, Fanny, hun, Cap cares way more about his run time than your plight, sorry. 

13) Did you put your Gray Lady promise in writing, Mike, because if you didn’t I say tell ‘em ‘sorry, the Gray Lady’s elusive, come again another time and maybe she’ll pop out then.’

14) That Pat didn’t pop Thomas on the nose after he spent most of the night listening to Thomas’s terrible poetry and being gracious about it just to be called grating by him for it afterwards tells me Pat is a better person than I am. 

15) Hmm, Pat’s watching Cap’s run again outside of routine times. Maybe he just like watching Cap run?

16) I wonder what Cap’s yelling in his slow-mo superhero-music tackle of Fanny.

17) I feel like Alison’s decision to impersonate Fanny can go either way, but choosing to stick around for the photo op after you’ve successfully gotten someone who can attest to seeing the ‘Gray Lady’ is a poor life choice, easily foiled by the obvious outcome of someone turning on the lights. 

18) Like, at least flee when the lights start flickering, Alison. C’mon.

19) I do like the detail Alison put into her Fanny costume, though. That’s craftier than I could have come up with in that short of notice. 

20) I love when the ghost hunter lady tells her their are ghosts all around them when there are literally ghosts all around them but Alison’s the only one that realizes it. 

21) Of course Julian’s a golf person. 

[immortalled]

We were rewatching misfits and its the part where Nathan says something about in Ireland if the priests weren't fiddling with you, you were one of the ugly kids. And mum says, "poor kid, how many times was he raped. No wonder he's such a prick." And we all thought about he's implying he was one of them since we know he thinks he quite good looking and his mum's friend gave him his hand job and though he said nothing actually happened his dad left him with a known paedo. And what the fuck!?

Big ol’ trigger warning on this post, folks.  TW: mentions of rape, sexual assault, abuse

Yeah, the series, for as little seriously as it takes it, is quite loud with Nathan’s history of being sexually abused. I remember the first time watching the show how his story about the camping trip really made everything click for me. The neglect from his parents explains a lot, but the rest of his backstory really makes everything that much clearer. The obsession with sex, how he objectifies himself and other people, ignoring other people’s consent and sometimes disregarding his own, the way he puts on a show and likes to pretend he’s less vulnerable than what he really is... it’s a lot. 

There’s also some speculation that besides the priests and his mum’s friend, that he was abused by one of Louise’s boyfriends. I’m personally a bit on the fence about it since Nathan claims twice that he was lying about Richard abusing him, but the fact that he told Louise and Mike, Mike, who Nathan clearly resents and avoids, is unsettling. It’s possible that Nathan simply told them he lied about it because in both instances when it’s brought up, they’re already arguing about something else (ie - to Louise about Jeremy, to Mike about Jamie) and he wanted them to focus on those problems rather than an issue they had already dismissed in the past. But... it’s also possible Nathan had really been lying about Richard if he thought that accusing him of abuse would be the quickest way to split him up with his mum. Either way, it doesn’t look good.

I’ve said this dozens of times, enough that I’m sure my followers are getting sick of hearing me complain about it, but while it’s on brand for Nathan to make jokes about his abuse and I can’t really wag a finger at the show for that, I really do wish that Overman had at least one instance where it was treated seriously. I would have even been happy with a single “are you OK?” or “that’s messed up”. Just something to acknowledge Nathan’s pain. They had a chance with Ruth (which, cringe! in the scripts, it’s revealed that Nathan feels he was raped by her, too) but of course Nathan’s emotional struggles are usually glossed over or presented as a joke. 🤷‍♀️

Nathan Young deserved so much and he got so little.

But I guess that’s why fanfic and roleplay blogs exist.

[johnrossbowie]

LEAVING TWITTER

I wrote this earlier in the fall, before the election, after dissolving my Twitter account. I wasn’t sure where to put it (“try up your ass!” – someone, I’m sure) and then I remembered I have a tumblr I never use. Anyway, here tis.

How do you shame someone who thinks Trumps’ half-baked policies and quarter-baked messaging put him in the pantheon of great Presidents? How do you shame someone so lacking in introspection that they will call Obama arrogant while praising Trump’s decisiveness and yet at the same time vehemently deny that they’re racist? How do you shame someone for whom that racism is endearing and maybe long overdue?

You don’t. It’s silly to think otherwise.

Twitter is an addiction of mine, and true to form, my dependence on it grew more serious after I quit drinking in 2010. At first it was a chance to mouth off, make jokes both stupid and erudite and occasionally stick my foot in my mouth (I owe New Yorker writer Tad Friend an apology. He knows why, or (God willing) he’s forgotten. Either way. Sorry.) I blew off steam, steam that was accumulating without booze to dampen the flames. Not always constructive venting, but I also met new friends, and connected with people whose work I’ve admired for literal decades and ended up seeing plays with Lin-Manuel Miranda and hanging backstage with Jane Wiedlin after a Go-Go’s show and exchanging sober thoughts with Mike Doughty. When my mom passed in 2018, a lot of people reached out to tell me they were thinking of me. This was nice. For a while, Twitter was a huge help when I needed it.

I used to hate going to parties and really hated dancing and mingling, but a couple of drinks would fix that. Point is, for a while, booze was a huge help, too.

But my engagement with Twitter changed, and I started calling people my ‘friends’ even though I’d never once met them or even heard their voices. These weren’t even penpals, these were people whose jokes or stances I enjoyed, so with Arthurian benevolence I clicked on a little heart icon, liked their tweet, and assumed therefore that we had signed some sort of blood oath.

We had not. I got glib, and cheap, and a little lazy. And then to make matters much worse, Trump came along and extended his reach with the medium.

There was a while there where I thought I could be a sort of voice for the voiceless, and I thought I was doing that. I tried very hard to only contribute things that I felt were not being said – It wasn’t accomplishing anything to notice “Haha Trump looks like he’s bullshitting his way through an oral report” – such things were self-evident. I tried to point out very specific inconsistencies in his policies, like the Muslim ban meant to curb terrorism that still favored the country that brought forth 13 of the 9/11 hijackers. Like his full-throated cries against media bias performed while he suckled at Roger Ailes’ wrinkly teat.  Like his fondness for evangelical votes that coincided with a scriptural knowledge that lagged far behind mine, even though I’m a lapsed Episcopalian, and there is no one less religiously observant than a lapsed Episcopalian. But that eventually gave way to unleashing ad hominem attacks against his higher profile supporters, who I felt weren’t being questioned enough, who I felt were in turn being fawned over by theirdim supporters. If you’re one of these guys, and you think I’m talking about you, you’re probably right, but don’t mistake this for an apology. You suck, and you support someone who sucks, and your idolatry is hurting our country and its standing in the world. Fuck you entirely, but that’s not the point. The point is that me screaming into the toilet of Twitter helps no one – it doesn’t help a family stuck at the border because they’re trying to secure a better life for their kids. It doesn’t help a poor teenager who can’t get an abortion because the party of ‘small government’ has squeezed their tiny jurisdiction into her uterus. It doesn’t help the coal miner who’s staking all his hopes on a dying industry and a President’s empty promises to resurrect it. I was born in New York City, and I currently live in Los Angeles. Those are the only two places I’ve ever lived, if you don’t count the 4 years I spent in Ithaca[1]. So, yes, I live in a liberal bubble, and while I’ve driven across the country a couple of times and did a few weeks in a touring band and am as crushed as any heartlander about the demise of Waffle House, you have me dead to rights if you call me a coastal elitist. And with that in mind, I offer few surprises. A guy who grew up in the theater district and was vehemently opposed to same-sex marriage or felt you should own an AR-15? THAT would be newsworthy. I am not newsworthy. I can preach to the choir, I can confirm people’s biases, but I will likely not sway anyone who is eager to dismiss a Native New Yorker who lives in Hollywood. I grew up in the New York of the 1970s, and that part of my identity did shape my politics. My mom’s boss was gay and the Son of Sam posed a realistic threat. As such, gays are job creators[2] and guns are used for homicide much more often than they are used for self-defense[3]. I have found this to be generally true over the years, and there’s even data to back it up.

“But Mr. Bowie,” you might say, though I insist you call me John - “those studies are conducted by elitist institutions and those institutions suck!” And again, I am not going to reason with people who will dismiss anything that doesn’t fit their limited world view as elitist or, God Help Us, fake news. But the studies above are peer-reviewed, convincing, and there are more where those came from.

“But John,” you might say, and I am soothed that we’re one a first name basis - “Can’t you just stay on Twitter for the jokes?” Ugh. A) apparently not and B) the jokes are few and far between, and I am 100% part of that problem.

I have stuff to offer, but Twitter is not the place from which to offer it.

After years of academically understanding that Twitter is not the real world, Super Tuesday 2020 made the abstract pretty fucking concrete. If you had looked at my feed on the Monday beforehand – my feed which is admittedly curated towards the left, but not monolithic (Hi, Rich Lowry!) – you’d have felt that a solid Bernie surge was imminent, but also that your candidate was going surprise her more vocal critics. When the Biden sweep swept, when Bernie was diminished and when Warren was defeated, I realized that Twitter is not only not the real world, it’s almost some sort of Phillip K. Dickian alternate timeline, untethered to anything we’re actually experiencing in our day to day life. This is both good news and bad news – one, we’re not heading towards a utopia of single payer health care and the eradication of American medical debt any time soon, but two, we’re also not being increasingly governed by diaper-clad jungen like Charlie Kirk. Clouds and their linings. Leaving Twitter may look like ceding ground to the assclowns but get this – the ground. Is not. There.

It’s just air.

There are tangible things I can do with my time - volunteer with a local organization called Food On Foot, who provide food and job training for people experiencing homelessness here in my adopted Los Angeles. I can give money to candidates and causes I support, and I can occasionally even drop by social media to boost a project or an issue and then vanish, like a sort of Caucasian Zorro who doesn’t read his mentions. I can also model good behavior for my kids (ages 10 and 13) who don’t need to see their father glued to his phone, arguing about Trumps incompetence with Constitutional scholars who have a misspelled Bible verse in their bio (three s’ in Ecclesiastes, folks).

So farewell Twitter. I’ll miss a lot of you. Perhaps not as badly as I miss Simon Maloy and Roger Ebert and Harris Wittels and others whose deaths created an unfillable void on the platform. But I won’t miss the yelling, and the lionization of poor grammar, and anonymous trolls telling my Jewish friends that they were gonna leave the country “via chimney.” I will not miss people who think Trump is a stable genius calling me a “fucktard.” I will not miss transphobia or cancelling but I will miss hashtag games, particularly my stellar work during #mypunkmusical (Probably should have quit after that surge, I was on fire that night, real blaze of glory stuff I mean, Christ, Sunday in the Park with the Germs? Husker Du I Hear A Waltz? Fiddler on the Roof (keeping an eye out for the cops)? These are Pulitzer contenders.). Twitter makes me feel lousy, even when I’m right, and I’m often right. There’s just no point in barking bumperstickers at each other, and there are people who are speaking truth to power and doing a cleaner job of it – Aaron Rupar, Steven Pasquale, Louise Mensch, Imani Gandy and Ijeoma Oluo to name five solid mostly politically based accounts (Yes, Pasquale is a Broadway tenor. He’s also a tenacious lefty with good points and research and a dreamy voice. You think you’re straight and then you hear him sing anything from Bridges of Madison County and you want him to spoon you.). You’re probably already following those mentioned, but on the off chance you’re not, get to it. You’ll thank me, but you won’t be able to unless you actually have my email.

_______

[1] And Jesus, that’s worse – Ithaca is such a lefty enclave that they had an actual socialist mayor FOR WHOM I VOTED while I was there. And not socialist the way some people think all Democrats are socialist – I mean Ben Nichols actually ran on the socialist ticket and was re-elected twice for a total of six years.

[2] The National Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce, “America’s LGBT Economy” Jan 20th, 2017

[3] The Violence Policy Institute, Firearm Justifiable Homicides and Non-Fatal Self Defense Gun Use, July 2019.

[har-rison-s]

losers stick together

request: Stan x reader cute domestic fluff with kids and happiness and stan doesn’t d** and they get a visit from the losers and it’s just soft fluff because i miss my baby and he deserved the world and more but didn’t get it and iM BITTER😭thanks lovely your stan work is honestly the best i’ve seen

A/N: This made my heart combust over and over osdjfsdhfbsdhfbsdh. CUTE to say the least omgoodness. I miss him, too, so bad :((( it hurts physically. I'm bitter!!!!!! King, how could you!!! Thank you. I tried my best with this to do justice to Stan and his life and his character. Originally, by the book, none of the Losers can have kids. But since this is a fix-it and fuck-cannon fic, we ignoring that!!! Happy reading!

warnings: cuteness, fluffiness, emotions, you really might cry. I did. Also, this is quite long. Enjoy!

IT masterlist

heaven masterlist

main masterlist

“Pick them up at five? You know my boss will murder me.” He tries to convince her, clearly stressed. Stanley huffs, looking at the clock. His lunch break is ending soon.

“He will not, baby! He loves you and can excuse this one time, alright?” She responds and he sighs. There's no response from Stan for a while. She takes that as a no. “Fine! I'll pick them up.” She gives in and can hear Stanley laughing into the phone. “But there's one thing you have to do for me, then. You know which one.” She teases.

“Oh, no. Please, pick something else.” He begs her, but now she laughs. “I'll—I'll paint your nails! Anything but watching that movie.”

“How dare you speak like that about my favorite thing in the whole world!” She exclaims in a theatrical voice. 

“Please. Don't the painted nails sound nice?” Stan presses. She groans, but says nothing for a little while.

“Alright, fine. That's only because your friends are coming.” Y/N clarifies and Stanley chuckles. 

“My one free pass! Yes!” He cheers. “I'll see you at six, then.” 

“Yes, my love. See you at six.” She responds with a loving smile that turns her voice full of love, too. “I love you.”

“And I love you more.” He states it as a fact before ending the call. “Oh, goodness, am I ready for this?” Stanley asks himself. 

He got a call last night from one of his best friends, Ben Hanscom. They had quite the open conversation, Stanley putting Ben on speaker as both their wives listened. Ben threw the idea of all the Losers meeting up and Y/N said they could do it at their house, the Uris household. The rest were ecstatic about the idea and Ben said he'll call up the rest of their friends to notify about this spontanious plan. They settled for half past seven, which is in only five and a half hours.

Y/N has never met Stanley's childhood friends. She heard the whole story about them when one of them, Mike Hanlon, called up Stanley while he was on vacation with Y/N and the kids. Said there was an emergency and that he needed to come home. But he couldn't. He'd finally found something good in his life, he finally had someone (now more than one) worth living for and they were together on a well-deserved vacation. Stanley couldn't leave, and Mike understood. 

He's nervous about whether she'll like them, whether they'll like her. How the kids will react to his friends. Would they be scared at first? No, they'll be fine. A four year old and an eight year old aren't that afraid anymore. But what happens when Richie starts joking around? Oh, no. He's always been the joker kind, but what really loosens him up is alcohol, and with that in his system, Richie Tozier is unstoppable.

Stan decides to hope for the best and not let his nerves eat him up. He's going to see his friends! After all this time. And he was the second one after Mike who remembers everything best. He's missed them so much. At times, he could feel a physical ache in his chest just because of how much he misses his friends. Now he's about to see them in a little less than six hours. He can't wait.

Seven-fifteen. The food is ready, the table is set, the kids... are not dressed.

“Nathaniel! Come back here to Daddy.” Stan calls out, exhasparated. He holds his son's jeans in his hands, sitting down on his bed, head in hands, as well. He's been trying to get his son to calm down for at least half an hour now. He just won't. “You can't sit at a dinner with no pants, buddy.” He tries to make a point.

But Nathaniel only giggles and gets up in his in-door swing and starts swinging. Stanley sighs, clearly on the verge of giving up, but upon looking really into what his son is doing, gets an idea.

“You wanna swing? Alright, let's swing.” He says and stands up, walking over to his on and his swing. Nathaniel giggles. Stanley gently pushes the swing so Nathaniel would swing higher and watches with a mischievous smile as he does. When Nathaniel's gone quite high on the swings and has been swinging for a few minutes, at least, Stanley grabs his son and, using the swing's advantage, slips the jeans up the little boy's legs.

He squeals and laughs, pretending that it tickles him. They both are laughing, and Y/N can't tell who's laughing harder as she watches the whole ordeal from the other end of the hallway. She's even filming it on her phone, Stanley notices. 

“Oh, come on! A way to torture your poor husband even more!” He calls out, but means no harm. All three of them are laughing. Stanley takes Nathaniel out of the swings, the little boy squealing more, and puts him down on the ground. “You naughty little thing!” He says to his son and pinches his nose gently. It only makes him laugh more, and he runs back to his bed. “Now put on your socks, you little maniac.” Stanley tells his son, pointing a finger at him. Nathaniel points one right back, which makes Stan smile.

He sighs as he stands up and pushes past the swings. Y/N goes back into the kitchen to finish the starters she began to make before hearing the mess of a situation in the hallway.

Stanley knocks on his daughter's door, which is partly closed, and recieves a quiet “come in” in response. “How's my little princess?” He asks, opening the door wider and walking into her room. Little Louise is sitting in front of her vanity, her fingers working on tearing up her braids. Stanley smiles wide, pushes his glasses further up his nose. Partly making sure he's not dreaming of such a beautiful daughter. “Why are you taking those out?” He asks.

Stanley walks over to where his daughter is sitting and kneels in front of her. She looks at him. “I wanted curly hair just like yours, Daddy.” She tells him and Stan smiles even wider. She pulls on one of the curls that hang over his forehead. “But my hair is just like Mommy's.” Louise then says with a frown.

“Aw, don't fret, princess. When you'll grow older, it will be just like mine.” Stanley tells her. “I promise.” He adds and winks at his daughter. She smiles. “Are you excited?”

“I think you're excited, Daddy.” She says when she's turned back to look at her reflection in the mirror. 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Well, I think that when I'm going to be old and meet the friends I have now, I'd be excited, too.” She tells him. Her statement makes Stanley double over with laughter. Louise doesn't really understand what her father's laughing at, but she smiles.

“So I'm old?” He finally asks. “Baby, 40 years old does not mean I'm old.”

“Yeah, but you're old-er.” She points out. She's finished with her braids and shakes her head a little so that all the hair would go back in place. Stanley watches with the most loving eyes he's ever layed upon someone. Louise stands up from the bench and Stanley finally gets to see how she's dressed. 

“You look so pretty, my little princess.” He tells her. Louise reaches out to take her father's hands and he lets her, gladly. “When did mommy buy you this dress? I don't think I've seen one so beautiful before.” 

“Today, while we were walking home.” Louise tells him. “That's why we were a bit late.” Stanley chuckles. “You look nice, too, Daddy.” 

Stanley can admit that he's blushing. “Thanks, angel.” 

The doorbell rings for the first time that evening. Stanley jumps a little because it was so sudden. Out of instinct, he looks behind him and then back at Louise. 

“Wanna go meet my friends?” He asks her and she nods with a smile. Stanley stands up and lets go of only one of Louise's hands, holding the other tight in his own. 

They walk into the hallway and Nathaniel joins them from his room, having heard the doorbell, too. He takes Stanley's other hand, though he is shorter than Louise and has to reach higher than his sister does. 

Y/N has already opened the front door of their house when the rest of the Uris family stand in the living room. “Hi!” She greets whoever is at the door. Stan would have liked to have a surprise about who's at the door first, but hearing the cheery voice of Beverly Marsh and the, apparently, deep rumble of Ben Hanscom gave the surprise away. Another voice joins in on the greetings. Is that the Richie Tozier?

Stanley fights the emotional tears that prick his eyes. He really hadn't prepared for this moment. The moment he meets his friends. His children would be much confused if they saw their dad crying and having no explanation for it. So he only grasps their little hands tighter and braces himself to see the first two friends of the evening. 

“You must be Y/N.” Beverly says and the two women embrace. “So glad to meet Stan's wife.”

“I would say we've heard a lot about you, but we've actually heard nothing.” Richie says and the four people laugh. “I'm Richie.”

“I could tell.” Y/N says, nodding. “And you're Beverly and Ben. So good to have you guys over. You're the first ones.” She says. “Come in, come in. He's already waiting for you.”

“Too anxious to meet us first, I bet.” Ben says and the voice grow louder as they near the kitchen and living room. “Left you to the task.” Y/N only laughs at Ben's statement. 

Beverly and Y/N exchange small banter about what the three have brought with them, flowers, gifts, dessert, wine. But Stan doesn't hear anything when he sees Ben and Richie entering the living room. The world stops.

“Stanley!” Richie's the first to speak and he wants to run up to his long-lost best friend. But he stops once he sees two little children at each of his side. “Kids!” Is all he can get out in surprise. Ben laughs. Stanley smiles. 

Stanley lets go of his kids' hands and runs up to his best friends, doing what they all want to do. “Ben.” He greets the man first. He cannot believe what he looks like now. And is that really Ben or someone else who's pretending to be him? 

“Stan the man.” Ben responds. Their embrace is tight and means everything to both of them. Stanley closes his eyes, savouring the moment. “So good to see you, buddy.”

“You, too, Ben.” Stanley responds. “But is this really you? You've changed so much...” He says after the two have pulled apart. “You look like Captain America or something.” 

The men laugh. “I couldn't believe it, either, at first.” Richie says. Stan looks at him and immediately hugs him, almost making them both fall over. 

“Richie!” Stanley cries. His best friend. His best, best, best. His first friend, who at first he couldn't believe he could stand enough to befriend. Stanley lets himself cry with no shame, tears pouring down his cheeks and onto Richie's back.

“It's so good to see you, Stan.” Richie admits and sniffs, as well. Ben pats both their backs, wanting to join in on the hug. But he decides to make aquintance with Stanley's kids.

“Hi there.” Ben says after squatting down to their level. “I'm Ben. One of your dad's friends.” He reaches out his hand for them to shake. The little girl does it first, then her brother. Nathaniel has grown shy all of a sudden. “What are your names?”

“I'm Louise. My brother's name is Nathaniel.” The daughter speaks first, as well. Ben smiles. “It's nice to meet you, Ben.”

“Rich, where's Eddie? Is he not coming? Has something happened?” Stanley questions, eyes showing worry. Eddie was always where Richie was and it's so strange to see one without the other. 

“No, no, everything's fine with him now. He'll be a bit late because of a doctor's appointment.” Richie explains. “We've got a lot to tell you, pal.” He refers to what Stanley 'missed out on', the result of Mike Hanlon's call. Stanley frowns at Richie's words. Are they mad at him for not coming when Mike called?

“Stanley, honey.” Beverly says before Uris can ask anymore questions. She embraces him and then pulls away, taking his face between her hands and looking at Stanley closely. “I'm so glad you're safe and... here.” She says, and it confuses Stan. “Your eyes have gotten darker, Stanley.” She points out. “They used to be in the color of acorns.” Stanley smiles. 

“Gosh, it's so great to see you guys.” He admits and wipes his fallen tears. “After all these years.” Another doorbell ring. “I'll get that.” Stanley volunteers and walks through the kitchen, passing his wife. He looks at her and wants to say something, but she reads his mind before he can.

“Go get your friends.” She says, telling him with her eyes that she'll stay with the children and his already arrived friends. Stan nods and before he can get the door, Y/N kisses him sweetly as a confirmation of what she just told him. 

Stanley opens the door and is greeted by the rest of the Losers. Looks like Kaspbrak won't be so late, after all. 

“Stanley!” The three men cry out of happiness in unison. Although Bill, as always, stutters his name. They all embrace together in a group hug, patting backs and vocalising their gladness of seeing each other. They don't ever want to let go of each other.

“So glad to see you, man. I can't believe we're all here, in one piece.”

“A seventh-piece, Eddie. You're still the same, Uris. Haven't changed a bit.”

“We're s-so glad you're he-here, Stan.”

“What do you mean? You're the ones that came over.” Stanley laughs, but it's followed by a silence. “Come on, come inside. What are we waiting for?” Stanley opens the door wide enough for his three friends to come through. They've each got a bag with them. 

Stanley watches his friends. How they've changed, how they've aged. How different they look. But at the same time, nothing's different about them. At the very same moment, they're the same kids he remembers 27 years ago in the meadow by the river. 

“Put the bags on the counter for now.” Stanley suggests, sensing his friends' question already in the air. “Dinner's already on the table.” He announces and leads Eddie, Bill and Mike into the living room from the ktichen. 

“Hey!” The rest of the losers cheer upon seeing their three friends arrived. Everyone cheers. The Losers club embrace and laugh and smile. Everyone's smiling and happy and content and excited. Stanley thinks, I've never felt happier in my life. Only if you count out the birth of his two children and his wedding, that is. But this moment is so much like the mentioned ones. 

Stanley's broken out of his trance of happiness and watching his friends converse when little Louise runs up to him. He looks down at her with the happiest face she's ever seen on her Daddy. She stretches out her arms towards him, a sign for him to take her up, and he does.

He picks her up and situates Louise on his hip, her arms going around his neck to hold onto. “Are you happy, Daddy?” She asks and Stanley sobs, tears once again streaming in rivers down his face. 

“Yes, princess, I'm very happy.” He answers and rests his own head against Louise's. She touches his cheeks with her small hands and wipes the fallen tears from her father's cheeks. Stanley looks at her as she does so, very happy and so emotional in the exact moment. 

“Stan, you old lady, the food's growing cold!” Richie calls out to his friend, and everyone chuckles while there's a quiet “Beep-beep, Richie” from one of the Losers. Stan then looks into the living room and sees all his friends and his wife have sat down at the table.

Richie sits next to Eddie, but the comedian is already making banter with young Nathaniel to his right. Beverly across Tozier, next to Ben who's talking with his old pal Bill. The empty seat next to Beverly is meant for Louise, and she hurries to claim it, climbing down from her father's embrace. Mike sits across Bill and Y/N has sat at the end of the table where her children sit. Stanley walks over to the table and sits down at his rightful place at the other end of the table, his wife straight ahead of him.

His best friends are looking at him with cheerful and bright faces. Hopeful, excited, glad, loving... Happy. Stanley gives them a smile, the best and prettiest he can. They're all here, together in his family's house, sitting at his table. All united. Friends again.

“A toast?” Y/N proposes, raising an eyebrow and smiling at her husband. Stanley nods and sniffs. The Losers and the Urises all raise a glass, the kids' glasses filled with black currant juice so that they wouldn't be left out, and hold them in the air as Stanley starts to speak.

“I... I didn't prepare anything.” He admits and his friends understand. How could he be prepared for this wonderful, breathtaking event ever in his life? “I honestly never thought I'd see you guys again. I never thought I'd see something like this in my whole life.” Stanley says. “Never thought this day would come. But I so hoped. And I missed all of you so much.” His wife offers Stanley a comforting smile, an encouraging one, as well. She sees how happy and thankful he is to be once again with his childhood friends. Maybe she doesn't know it, but Y/N sees how much they mean to him, how much they have always meant to him.

“I presumed, realistically, that something must have happened to each of us. That maybe we'd truly never see each other again. Never be the Losers Club again. Never see each of us grow up and do what we always wanted to, make our childhood dreams come true. Maybe I was just... afraid that something might happen to us, and I believed it.

“But I realised with time that you cannot believe in fear. It's fictional and, quite frankly, a disease. If you live your life in fear, you don't get to have the things we all have now. At least the things I do have.” He adds and his friends all laugh. “So, I propose a toast to us all. Grown-up Losers. A toast to see each other as often as possible and keep the bond stronger than ever.” Stanley finishes and needs to wipe his nose again. “To the Losers Club! And the big family we grow to be!” 

“To The Losers Club and the big family we grow to be!” Everyone repeats and clinks their glasses together. Together is what they were made to be.

Permanent taglist:  @gabiatthedisco​ @v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths@empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @mrsmazzello @benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid@intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131

Stanley Uris tag-list: @nightbu-g

Part Two? Multiple parts?

[cilldaracailin]

Under Pressure

This is something I have been writing while I have been stuck on lock down as I suddenly find myself with a lot of time on my hands. I have been writing fanfiction since I was a teenager and have just got into Tumblr, even though I have had this account for a while. Decided it was time to put it to use and post my story here.

I have also posted it in AO3 and you can find it here:http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/23570293/chapters/56548318

I know fanfiction helps me escape ‘reality’ for a little while, so this is my escape. I hope it can help anyone who reads it escape for a little white too.

*Disclaimer - It’s a complete work of fiction. I have never met Taron or Richard and I have done my best with all the information but as I said, it’s fiction*

1

“The 12-step chocolate program: NEVER BE MORE THAN 12 STEPS AWAY FROM CHOCOLATE!”

“Milk duds or caramel m&m’s?” she asked herself as she stared at the selection of chocolate in the 7/11.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry Claire.” Robyn turned her attention back to the phone which was balanced between her right shoulder and her ear. “I am looking at the what chocolate I am going to stuff my face with tonight.”

“Last day was that bad, huh?”

“Ugh, don’t even go there. I swear, this whole exchange experience would have been perfect if it hadn’t of been for ‘Christina’. Fuck it, I am getting both and Mike and Ike’s and turtles. I need about five packets of turtles.”

“Turtles? Ro, focus!”

“Shit sorry Claire.” Robyn threw a pack of normal and sour Mike and Ike’s into her basket, as well as two packets of milk duds and a packet of caramel m&m’s before she went looking for the red packaging of turtles, her definite go to chocolate while living in The States. “Everyone else in the day care were amazing as you know,” she continued, holding the phone back into her right hand, the basket now hanging in the crook of her elbow of the same arm. “I just don’t know what Christina’s problem was. She knew I was there in a supervisory position and she still just gave me grief and stirred shit. Ohhh white chocolate m&m’s, I’ll have those too.”

Her friend chuckled on the other end of the phone. “Robyn, come on, step away from the chocolate for two minutes.”

“Oh yes crisps! Of course, genius Claire.” She moved down the aisle towards the shelving which held all the many packets of chips and pulled three red bags of Doritos off the shelf and let them tumble into the basket on her arm.

“Not what I meant.”

“Ice cream!”

“Do you want to have a sugar coma on the plane home tomorrow?”

Robyn sighed. “No, I really don’t.”

“Then put the crisps back.” Reluctantly, Robyn put the three bags of crisps she had grabbed back onto the shelf, listening to her best friends’ advice. “Now you can keep the chocolate because you can give me some when we meet but seriously, what happened? I know you. You are avoiding the subject which means something really terrible happened or something really terrible happened.”

Robyn gently dropped the basket onto the ground, stood in the confectionary aisle and turned her attention to her friend, while leaning on a waist high steel basket that was selling scented candles. “Right so I have no idea what got into her head, but she thought it was a wonderful idea to have all thirty-three children out in the garden at the same time, with only two staff members, while the third staff member stayed inside and completed some paper work as Christina told her it was perfectly fine to do that. Thirty-three of them with two staff members! No thought for the children’s safety or our ratios. I went out to speak to her immediately, asking where Judith was, explaining for the millionth time that she, Christina, knows that many children cannot be outside at once and she rolled her eyes at me. Rolled her eyes Claire!” Robyn’s tone was full of disgust. “And of course, as soon as I went to get my teacher stare and voice on, one of the children who was on a motorbike, lost his balance and went straight into the stone wall.”

“No!”

“Oh yes and what did Christina do?”

“Do I want to even know?”

“Told poor little Kevin to get up and walk it off. Jesus, Claire I lost it. I actually let my temper get the better of me and I lost it with her, for about three seconds until I realised that poor little Kevin’s forehead was pumping blood and he was in hysterics.”

“Oh, shit no,”

“Oh, shit yes. I’m only glad I stay calm in a bloody crisis because Louise just stood there staring at the calamity unfolding in front of her and Christina starting freaking out over the blood and despite the noise outside, Judith stayed where she was inside doing paperwork. Then the manager came out during this whole episode to see me holding my hand to Kevin’s head, trying to stop the bleeding, while comforting him, Louise still standing frozen staring and Christina now yelling at me for causing the whole incident outside. Serious shitstorm in a bottle.” Robyn had picked up her basket and walked over towards the fridges, while retelling the drama that had unfolded that morning, opened the door to take out a bottle of mountain dew and put it in her basket.

“Don’t tell me she tried to blame it all on you.”

“Oh tried…” Robyn put her basket back down and on the ground. “…and thought she had succeeded until, Regina, the manager, piped up to say that we, me and her, had been in an exit meeting in the office and both had seen the children playing in the garden in such high numbers on the security camera and she had asked me to go and out and see why it was so and then she also saw the scene Christina was creating and how Kevin had fallen off his bike as there were too many children in the garden. I knew I always like Regina. She always had my back.”

“What about Kevin.”

“Thankfully he was ok. There was a lot of blood, but that was to be expected with a head wound, but thankfully it wasn’t actually that bad. The cut was much smaller than I had anticipated. I cleaned him up and patched him up but had already called his parents and they came and picked him up. Brought him to the doctors to get checked out. They rang as I left work, he will be just fine. They glued the little wound back together and are keeping an eye on him but he will be absolutely fine and hopefully there shouldn’t be a scar either.”

“Well you have had an eventful last day.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hence the absurd amount of chocolate.”

“Absolutely. My plan is to go home, put on my pyjama’s, finish packing, order my last American pizza, stuff myself stupid on junk food and watch movies that involve some form of a gorgeous looking man.”

“I think that is a perfect plan but please tell me the other girls in the day care were sorry to see you go. I mean it has been the last six months of your life and you were their supervisor.”

Robyn sighed. “It’s been a dream. I have enjoyed it all Claire, you know I have. It has been an incredible experience and the other staff were amazing. I have made some great friends. We had a laugh while working together, taught each other a lot and we definitely enjoyed our last night out together last weekend. It has been such a great programme to get the opportunity to be involved in and to be in Clearwater Florida of all places to do it? You know I love this place. Christina may have been a serious pain in my arse but everyone else has been so lovely and not to mention teaching all the kids. It was so hard to say goodbye to them today. I think I have cried about four times before I actually left the building.”

“I can only imagine but you are back to work here on Monday, right?”

“Yep, I have been speaking to Emma in creche and we are looking forward to bringing some of the ideas I have been working with here into our creche setting. We are going to develop a plan on it once I get settled back in.”

“Yeah into the cold and the rain.” Robyn laughed at her friend’s glumness. “Hope you are going to enjoy your last morning of beautiful sunshine tomorrow.”

Robyn looked down at her sun kissed arms, six months in Florida helping her skin become a dark golden-brown colour, which she knew would be gone in an instant once she was home. “I shall be at the beach first thing, if I survive my sugar coma.” She looked in her basket. “Yeah I need to put some of this back on the shelf.”

“No keep it!” laughed Claire. “I was serious when I said bring it home to me. I can’t wait to see you on Sunday. I will definitely eat those milk duds.” Robyn laughed too. “At least back home you won’t have to see Christina any more.”

“Thank fuck for that. I am looking forward to getting back into my routine at home. Back in my office and chair.”

“So, what movie are you going to watch for your last night in Florida?”

“Do you know, I have been itching to watch Rocketman again.”

“Again?”

“It’s a beautiful movie and come on, it’s the music of Elton John.” Robyn moved in closer to the fridge to make some room as two men walked past her down through the aisle, pushing her basket in with her foot.

“Oh, and nothing to do with a certain leading male, yeah?”

“Shut up Claire.”

“Shut up Claire,” mimicked her friend.

“You know I went to see that movie because of Elton John and his music not because of the male lead and it also happened to be released on my birthday so it was my birthday treat.”

“Yeah alright, but how many movies of Taron’s did you watch after? Hmmm?”

“Ah here, Eddie the Eagle is cute and so endearing and it has Hugh Jackman in it and you know I love him and have done since his Oklahoma days and…”

“… and you also watched Robin Hood and Kingsman and…”

“And I have to go Claire!” Robyn grinned into the phone. “This junk will not buy itself and I need to find those damn turtles.”

“Ro come on!”

“I will text you this evening Claire and I will see you on Sunday.”

“But Ro…”

“I love you, you tosspot!”

“Ugh hate you.”

“Bye Claire.”

“Have fun with your turtles and Taron!”

Robyn laughed as she ended the call, knowing there would be a text message within the next thirty seconds from her best friend from home, calling her out for hanging up on her. As much as she enjoyed the last six months of her life and the experiences it brought, good and bad, she could not wait to get back home to real green grass, rain and some cold weather, her crazy best friend and her own bed in her apartment. Florida had been enlightening and enjoyable but Ireland was home.

Finally finding the red packets of turtles near the cash registers, Robyn picked up five packets and threw them in her basket, before waiting in line to be checked out.

[exactly24bees]

On my previous mash/Frasier post.......

Hawkeye: Niles. Bc I love Niles and I love Hawkeye and this is my au so I can do what I want. Also the flamboyance and love of theatre

Trapper: Daphne. I said piercintyre rights. Also I like gay awakening story lines. Usually trappers the repressed one in fics, so I’d be interested in seeing it reversed

Radar: Bebe. Ok just hear me out. Imagine little Radar as an agent. He’d really just be a Bebe replacement rather than being her if that makes sense. Like he’s super nice and everything still but once he starts negotiating he’s a shark. It’s startling and he always gets his clients the best contracts.

BJ: Chopper Dave. I honestly couldn’t really find a great place for Beej... so let’s just say in this au the KACL gang are more prevalent and somehow BJ and Hawkeye still become bffs. I’ll work it out.

Klinger: Bulldog. Instead of being a gross womanizer though his shtick is business investments or something like that. Like he’s still skeevy but it’s in a lovable way instead of a gross way.

Frank: Noel. In love with Margaret (Roz) still. More sniveling than real Noel. Instead of Star Trek hes crazy about America. Goes to gun conventions and shit like that. Not as nice.

Margaret: Like I said, Roz. Both badasses so,,,, yeah. And

Henry: Kenny. Both in leadership positions where they have no clue what they’re doing. Except this poor Henry won’t have Radar to take care of things for him,,,

Potter: Martin. Old soldier whose very attached to his pet,,,, that’s both of them. In Frasier they even compared them to each other! Mach made in heaven.

Charles: Frasier, definitely. Posh bastard. Tho Charles is arguably better. He ran so Frasier could walk.

Father Mulcahy: Father Mike. Need I explain more?

Sidney: Gil. Again, running out of space. Sorry Sid.

Sophie: Eddie!! She’s now a little jack Russell congrats girl.

Also uhh Carlye would be Maris, Margie would be Mel (sorry queens I love y’all), Louise McIntyre would be Donny.... this au would probably require a few ocs lmao. The way I envisioned it everyone would take their character’s last name (Benjamin Crane, Margaret Doyle, etc) bc all the familial relationships in the show would stay the same. So Hawkeye and Charles would be brothers (which would be..... interesting) and Col. Potter would be their dad.

This,,,,,,, took up way to much of my brain cells gdjdbdjdbksbds

[trueloveandotherscificoncepts]

Ranking My Favourite New Who Seasons (& Episodes) Because Why The Fuck Not

This is based on personal preference only. If you disagree, I really couldn’t give a fuck. Don’t @ me.

1. Season Four - starring David Tennant as the 10th Doctor & Catherine Tate as Donna Noble

Best Episodes:

Turn Left (4.11) - Russell T Davis

Midnight (4.10) - Russell T Davis

The Unicorn and the Wasp (4.07) - Gareth Roberts

The Sontaran Stratagem (4.04)/The Poison Sky (4.05) - Helen Raynor

The Stolen Earth (4.11)/Journey’s End (4.12) - Russell T Davis

2. Season One - starring Christopher Eccleston as the 9th Doctor & Billie Piper as Rose

Best Episodes:

Dalek (1.06) - Robert Shearman

The Empty Child (1.09)/The Doctor Dances (1.10) - Steven Moffat

The Unquiet Dead (1.03) - Mark Gatiss

The End of the World (1.02) - Russell T Davis

3. Season Three - starring David Tennant as the 10th Doctor & Freema Agyeman as Martha Jones

Best Episodes:

Utopia (3.10) - Russell T Davis

The Shakespeare Code (3.02) - Gareth Roberts

The Sound of Drums (3.11)/The Last of the Time Lords (3.12) - Russell T Davis

4. Season Eleven - starring Jodie Whittaker as the 13th Doctor & Mandip Gill as Yasmin Khan, Tosin Cole as Ryan Sinclair, Bradley Walsh as Graham O’Brien

Best Episodes:

Demons of Punjab (11.06) - Vinay Patel

Rosa (11.03) - Malorie Blackman & Chris Chibnall

The Witchfinders (11.08) - Joy Wilkinson

Bonus:

Arachnids in the UK (11.04) - Chris Chibnall (because those poor spiders were adorable and they deserved better)

5. Season Ten - starring Peter Capaldi as the 12th Doctor & Pearl Mackie as Bill Potts

Best Episodes:

Thin Ice (10.03) - Sarah Dollard

Knock Knock (10.04) - Mike Bartlett

The Eaters of Light (10.10) - Rona Munro

6. Season Two - starring David Tennant as the 10th Doctor & Billie Piper as Rose Tyler

Best Episodes:

Love & Monsters (2.10) - Russell T Davis

School Reunion (2.02) - Toby Whithouse

The Impossible Planet (2.08)/The Satan Pit (2.09) - Matt Jones

7. Season Nine - starring Peter Capaldi as the 12th Doctor & Jenna Louise Coleman as Clara Oswald

The Zygon Invasion (9.07)/The Zygon Inversion (9.08) - Peter Harness & Steven Moffat

Heaven Sent (9.11) - Steven Moffat

8. Season Five - starring Matt Smith as the 11th Doctor & Karen Gillan as Amy Pond, Arthur Darvill as Rory Williams

Best Episodes:

Vincent and the Doctor (5.10) - Richard Curtis

The Lodger (5.11) - Gareth Roberts

9. Season Eight - starring Peter Capaldi as the 12th Doctor & Jenna Louise Coleman as Clara Oswald

Best Episodes:

The Caretaker (8.06) - Gareth Roberts & Steve Moffat

In the Forest of the Night (8.10) - Frank Cottrell-Boyce

10. Season Six - starring Matt Smith as the 11th Doctor & Karen Gillan as Amy Pond, Arthur Darvill as Rory Williams

Best Episodes:

The Doctor’s Wife (6.04) - Neil Gaiman

That’s it. That’s the only good episode. (But it is at least a very good episode.)

11. Season Seven - starring Matt Smith as the 11th Doctor & Karen Gillan as Amy Pond, Arthur Darvill as Rory Williams, Jenna Louise Coleman as Clara Oswald

Best Epsiodes:

None. It’s awful. Terrible. Just a complete clusterfuck.

[nowitsdarkfic]

chapter two (black orchid)

My stomach is in complete and utter agony once she and I arrive at the doorstep: my hair is drenched and I’m freezing from the cold rain falling all around us. In the dim light, I can see her eyes struggling to remain open, but I made a promise with myself. The grass is starting to feel like a swamp, and I can tell the rain is making the leather rather slippery: I am almost dragging her once I stumble onto the concrete walkway.

I stop to push my hair out of my eyes to make out the shape of... a flower? I can’t tell.

I push my hair from my eyes again all while trying to keep her from sliding out from my arms. It’s like a neon light in the shape of a flower but I can’t be too sure of it.

What the hell is this place?

I hurry up to the doorstep, where I am met with a low awning: I duck my head and, once the rain is behind me and Maya, I give my head a toss back to rid of the wet strands of hair from my face.

Maya groans in her throat and shudders against my chest.

“Come on, Maya, babe, stay with me—“ I coax her, running her up to the front door. I press her head to my chest but since the leather on my jacket is too drenched, I have to lean back a bit to keep her from falling onto the hard ground. I try to knock on the dark heavy door panel but I can’t, otherwise I drop her.

So I kick the door with the sole of my shoe. No response. I’m about to do it again when this foxy girl sidles out from behind the darkness. Yellow light shines over Maya and me, and I blink several times to adjust my eyes.

She’s about a foot shorter than me with short scarlet red ringlets around her head and bright green eyes, and she has opaque skin as white as the impending snow, and as smooth as glass. She’s wearing a fitted black leather jacket zipped down to the base of her chest, a black miniskirt, and is barefoot. She gives her ringlets a toss back and flutters her eyelash extensions at me.

“Hey, handsome, what brings you to our little hub in the nub of New York?”

“Probably hypothermic, and starving, and I think something horrific happened to her,” I say in one fell swoop and a nod to Maya, and she gasps at the sight of her there in my arms.

“Oh holy shit!” She turns away from the door. “Lili! Lili, come quick!”

She returns to me.

“Yeah, come inside, come inside,” she encourages me.

I almost stumble ass over teakettle into the room from the wet soles of my Chucks, but I never let go of her. The girl gestures for me to bring Maya to a plush dark red couch nestled up against the wall, and I stagger forth a bit, but I catch myself in the moment. I lay her down on the cushions and I collapse right there on the soft shag carpet beneath her.

“Oh my God,” the girl pleads, clasping a hand to her mouth. A heavier woman with jet black hair tied tight in a bun atop her head skids into the room from the stairwell across from me.

“Morgan, what have I told you about calling me Lili?” she scolds her.

Morgan scoffs; meanwhile I can hardly lift up my head. Now I am starting to fade.

“Mrs. Hamilton, this guy and his girl here are—“ I couldn’t hear the rest of it. My vision blurs and falls out of focus as they fade out into silhouettes, both of which loom towards me.

I can feel them touching me and picking me up from the floor. Morgan sits me upright: I already know her fiery red hair through my hazy vision.

“—he said he’s hungry,” I hear her say: her voice sounds like she’s about a mile away.

“I bet he’s cold, too—“ adds Mrs. Hamilton. Her blurred silhouette turns away. “Cindy, go upstairs—”

My head rolls over onto my shoulder and I close my eyes. Like going to sleep.

And then I wake up to the heavy horse blanket wrapped around me and a whole group of girls, including Morgan and Mrs. Hamilton, gathered around me. The latter, who’s snuggled closest to me, brushes my hair from my face.

“There he is,” declares the black girl with the fledgling Afro to the right of me.

“Hey, hon,” she greets me in a Pennsylvania Dutch accent, “don’t scare us like that. We were kinda worrying about you there for a minute.” She hands me a large bluish white bowl of what looks like chicken noodle soup accompanied with a light silver spoon.

“You just make yourself at home here with us for a little bit,” the dishwater blonde across from me tells me.

“We’ll take good care of you,” promises the brown haired girl next to her, “—and her.”

I turn my head to make sure Maya is still laying behind me on the couch: they had removed her shoes and socks, and I could only see the tiny white stubs for feet jutting out from her slacks.

“Yeah, I hope she’s alright,” I confess, returning to the bowl in my lap.

I cannot seem to get the noodles and the chicken into my mouth faster as I almost inhale the first several bites of soup before me. I don’t even care if I dribble a little onto my shirt: I just want it inside of me.

“My goodness,” remarks Mrs. Hamilton, “poor thing, you must have been starving to death!”

“I pretty much was,” I confess, lifting my head to take a better look at her voluptuous figure. She’s a bit too old for me but I do like what I am seeing underneath that lush blanket brocade.

“I’m Leela, or Mrs. Hamilton. Only the select few call me Lili or Leah.”

“And by select few, you mean family and anyone who kisses your ass,” Morgan grumbles under her breath.

“Oh, stop,” Mrs. Hamilton scolds her, “obviously you met Morgan—that’s the Jackson girls, Lupe—“ She gestures to the brown haired girl who shows me a dainty little wave, “Louise, or Louie Louie as we call her—“ the dishwater blonde who blows me a kiss, “—Lizzy—“ the black haired girl with a silver nose ring and tattoos of Betty Boop and Jessica Rabbit on her shoulder who shows me a warm smile and flutters her lashes at me, “—and my daughters Cindy, who made the soup—“ the girl with feathery black hair and big sensual lips winks at me, “—and Gwendolyn.” The black girl to the right of me: and I tilt my head to the side at her.

“You’re her sister?”

“Half sister,” she elaborates. “Mr. Hamilton is my dad, but Cindy and I go by her maiden name.”

“Ridgeway,” says Cindy with a shy smile. I show her a sly grin as I pick up the spoon again.

“And do you have a name?” asks Lizzy.

“I’m Joey,” I introduce myself. “Joey Belladonna.”

“Ahh, we’ve got an Italian Stallion with us, girls,” declares Gwendolyn with a twinkle in her eye.

“Well, I dunno about that,” I shrug off, feeling the warmth return to my skin.

“Oh, come on, baby boy.” A devilish grin crosses her lovely face. “You’re as hot as the sun on the coast of Tuscany.”

“Oh, yeah, sis,” Cindy chimes in, leaning towards me, “you’re quite the—lush one, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m also Native American, too,” I add, taking another bite of soup.

They all let out an eager gasp in unison and I am starting to feel better at that point.

“What—is this place, might I ask?” I lower my voice towards Mrs. Hamilton.

“Black Orchid,” she replies with a grin. “The finest, classiest, sexiest club outside of New York City.”

I swallow down another bite of soup before I understand what she’s talking about.

“Club,” I breathe out, feeling my heart skip a few beats, “I came to a strip club.”

“That’s right, baby doll,” Louie declares, and Lupe and Morgan giggle with each other. “We all were just headed home for the night because of the rain when you showed up.”

“Don’t tell us that’s your lady, though,” Cindy nods at Maya with an almost wounded look upon her face.

“Oh, no,” I assure her. “I was taking a walk when I found her in a storm drain bound at the ankles, and I wasn’t gonna let her die there.”

“Sexy as hell and a sweetheart,” Gwendolyn notes, her cheekbones filling out to resemble ripe plums.

“Em—well, if you ladies were headed home—and hopefully the rain’s died down, sounds like it has—”

“It’s snowing now, hon,” Mrs. Hamilton corrects me.

“It is? Well, fuck.”

“Slumber party!” Lizzy squeals, and I long for my bed right then and there. I have always loved falling asleep with my gullet full of food and in my own bed. But on the other hand, I suppose it is best if I do stay here for the night.

“I forgot to add, tomorrow’s my birthday,” I add and Mrs. Hamilton’s face lights up at the sound of that.

“Well, I’ll be screwed, blued, and tattooed—alright, girls! We’ve got all the more reason to spend the night. We’ve gotta do more than take care of this boy and help this young lady—we’ve got a birthday to plan!”

“I’ll get the cake!” Lizzy offers.

“I’ll help,” Morgan joins her.

“Gwen and I’ll find him a bed,” Cindy joins in, climbing to her feet.

“Louie and I’ll figure out what’s for breakfast,” Lupe proclaims with a wink at me.

“And I’ll get some beer,” Mrs. Hamilton says, rubbing her hands together.

Meanwhile, I return to my bowl of soup, which is quite big but I really don’t mind. I’d rather go to bed with my belly all warm than have every inch of me shuddering from that box of Mike n Ikes and melancholy. I take another bite before turning my head again to see her bare feet at the end of the couch.

It goes without saying that Maya and I are in good hands.

[beatdisc]

7″ PUNK VINYL

Recently we've bought 3-4 incredible punk/hardcore/post-punk/new wave 7" vinyl collections. So we thought we'd make a list (around 300 titles) for ya'll to check out. See below for everything in-stock right now and get in touch for details & orders!

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CAN SUCK ON THIS $10.00 NOFX LIZA AND LOUISE: COLOUR $30.00 NOFX TIMMY THE TURTLE: COLOUR $20.00 NOFX LOUISE AND LIZA: COLOUR $15.00 NUCLEAR SUMMER / STOCKADES SPLIT $5.00 OF FEATHER AND BONE / REPROACHER SPLIT $5.00 ORCHESTRAL MANOEUVRES IN THE DARK ENOLA GAY $10.00 OUT CROWD JUST US $8.00 OUTSIDERS CODE DEMO $5.00 PALAIS SCHAUMBURG TELEPHON / KINDER DER TOD $50.00 PARADES END PARADES END $10.00 PEACEBREAKERS EVERY DAY BATTLE $5.00 PENETRATION FIRING SQUAD $15.00 PETER & THE TEST TUBE BABIES KEY TO THE CITY $15.00 PHANTOMS S.O.S. $15.00 PLAGUES PERFECT STATE $5.00 POPULAR MECHANICS FROM HERE TO OBSCURITY $60.00 POSTBLUE LAP YEAR $10.00 PRODUCT OF WASTE GOOD AND EVIL $10.00 PROGRESSION CULT NEW BLOOD EP $50.00 PSYCHEDELIC FURS, THE WE LOVE YOU $8.00 PSYCHOTIC MANIACS A TRIBE OF MELBOURNE $40.00 PUBLIC IMAGE LTD. PUBLIC IMAGE $15.00 PUBLIC IMAGE LTD. 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#beatdiscpreownedvinyl

[duchessofostergotlands]

Hi!! Candice Wyatt posted a photo of Lady Louise and she negate to eliminate the post so I propose we broadcast the hashtag #firecandicewyatt what do you think?? I twitted two posts with that hashtag. Would you help me with this please??

poppaeasabina: I hope Louise got a hug and a pep talk from Kate, poor love. Being fourteen and royal sucks.

So this really confused me but I’ve had a look. Basically some Australian journalist called Candice Wyatt posted a screen shot of Louise’s dress blowing up. Thankfully the comments are mostly condemning her- rightly so. I don’t have a twitter account so I can’t do that. I think the best thing to do is probably to contact her employer and make it clear that posting photographs of a 14 year old girl’s underwear is morally reprehensible. Also flag the post as inappropriate as well. Earlier today when my friend told me about her dress flying up I said, and I quote, “if they post the pictures I’ll kill them.” Obviously that was an exaggeration- I wouldn’t waste my Purge night on them- but I am furious about it for so many reasons. She’s a child. She’s a female. She’s spent her whole life being mocked by the press and the public for her appearance. None of this should have happened to her and my heart absolutely aches for her right now. I saw a photograph of Zara and co checking on her. Her cheeks were really red. I don’t know if it was just the wind or if she was upset about her skirt but the adults in the family really seemed to rally around her and I’m so glad she has that. Autumn was leaning over, Mike’s clearly got a “you did really well” facial expression, and Zara’s got her hand on Louise’s arm. She needed them in that moment and they delivered. I’m really proud of her:

[thecomicsnexus]

Swamp Thing

HOUSE OF SECRETS #92 JULY 1971 BY LEN WEIN, BERNIE WRIGHTSON, JACK KIRBY, MARK EVANIER, MARY SKRENES, DICK DILLIN, TONY DEZUNIGA, BILL DRAUT AND ALAN WEISS

SYNOPSIS

Four stories in this issue. The first one is the “first appearance” of the Swamp Thing (Alex Olsen). Alex was murdered in a faked accident by his lab partner, because he was jealous of his marriage with the woman he loved. Now that this man (Damian) feels the woman is starting to suspect Alex was murdered, he tries to kill her, but she is saved by a “Thing” from the Swamps. Since he cannot talk, he has no option but to leave his love behind.

The second story is about a man whose wife dies, but in her final moment she seems to see something. Intrigued by this, he tries to see other people in their dying moments to figure out what they see. He ends up trying to kill his brother in law, but it is him who ends up being shot instead. In his last moments, he tells his brother in law what he sees, and this is enough for that poor man to be put in an asylum for life.

The third story is about a homeless man who gives a dime to a little boy who lost his balloon. Miraculously, a fountain of dimes appears in front of him and he starts taking care of himself (while still giving some dimes to people that helped him before). A criminal sees him getting better and follows him to the fountain and kills him. The kid with the balloon sees this and takes revenge, as he was a boy warlock.

The last story is just two pages long about a man who connects all the dots in some picture and is later attacked by the creature in it.

CONTEXT

Len Wein came up with the idea for the character while riding a subway in Queens. He later recalled, "I didn't have a title for it, so I kept referring to it as 'that swamp thing I'm working on.' And that's how it got its name!" Bernie Wrightson designed the character's visual image, using a rough sketch by Wein as a guideline.

The character of the Swamp Thing is inspired by an old Hillman Comics character known as the Heap. The Heap became a recurring supporting character when Eclipse Comics optioned the rights to continue the Airboy series of comics originally published by Hillman in 1945.

While creating the cover for this issue, Bernie Wrightson used Louise Simonson and Mike Kaluta as models for the woman and Swamp Thing, respectively. (This is how Louise Simonson looked back then).

CRITICAL RECEPTION

REVIEW

It is strange that the first appearance of the character is not even the first appearance of the character we know. As you may already know, the story was set in modern times in Swamp Thing #1, so they had to create a new “host” for the thing. So technically, while this is the first appearance of the Swamp Thing, it isn’t the first appearance of Alec Holland.

I get emotional sometimes with comics, but not like those readers described. This story wasn’t much of a story, it was more of a small snippet of a story. So many things are left aside that it feels incomplete.

My favorite story in this book is perhaps the third one. Doesn’t make much sense, but there is something interesting in it.

The second story is also good but in the end it asks too much of the readers.

Bernie Wrightson is a great artist, but of course, this is a swamp thing that is not yet refined. So in comparison it doesn’t look so good. But if you avoid Swampy, the rest looks eerie and fits the story.

I give this issue a score of 8