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pointnumbersixteen · 3 years

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Headcanon for Cap's crush on Mike coming back and him panicking/floundering whenever he's around him, and getting sad when him and Ally are all cute together.

This is a tough one, mostly because I can’t picture any scenario in which Cap’s crush on Mike returns, at least without some serious character development on Mike’s part, and I don’t think the creators intend to develop him in that direction, unfortunately.

To explain:

Captain’s type is pretty clear: men who are fit, handsome, intelligent, and who are natural leaders with good people skills who also look good in green. And I’m pretty sure all of those things are required.

Cap’s been shown to have some interest in four men on the show. Havers fit every single one of those things and Captain was clearly deeply attached to him. Adam the First AD was also every single one of those things and Cap fell for him pretty fast- I imagine if the filming at Button House had gone on for as many weeks as it was supposed to, Cap might have ended up pretty attached to him, too. Kevin (the Handsome One), however, did not fit the whole bill... he was fit, very handsome, in fact, he’s probably the best looking guy we’ve seen so far on the show, looked good in green, and had good people skills. Whether or not he was intelligent or not can’t be determined by what was seen on the show. But what he was not was a natural leader. And Cap’s interest in him didn’t seem to go very far past physical attraction- rather than hanging on their every word, like he did with Havers and Adam, Cap’s attention to Kevin was mostly in passing and he was even willing to frame him for theft. So strong leadership skills and possibly intelligence seem to be the deciding factor.

Now, Mike is very fit. He falls somewhere between average and good looking, I suppose (I think average, but I understand that depends on your opinion of weak chins and jawlines. Sorry to anyone who might think that’s a little too nitpicky about male aesthetics. I’d argue at least that Cap doesn’t care too much about jawlines, though, because Adam’s isn’t great, either, although Adam does have a chin). Mike does look good in green. His people skills can be good, although they aren’t necessarily always. What he is not, however, is particularly intelligent or a natural leader. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Mike, but this is the case. And the latter didn’t even have time to come into play. If you remember the first episode, Cap became very interested in Mike on sight. And that interest evaporated completely never to return as soon as Mike implied that he doesn’t like to read.

I think it would take a lot for Mike to overcome those two deficits for Cap. I don’t know. He’d have to decide to start a course of reading in the library. Or suddenly develop an intensive interest in WWII history. Or finally take charge of properly remodeling the house. Or stop just following along with whatever Alison wants all the time, but in a good way (sadly, I think they might intend to do this, but in a bad way, making him less understanding and more insecure as the show goes one- which is definitely not going to make him appeal more to Cap).

So sadly, I can’t offer you Cap pining for Mike and getting sad over his being with Alison instead (and really, the poor guy’s probably spent enough time pining for the unattainable, anyway). Please accept these substitutions that I can endorse, however, on similar themes:

If your main goal was Cap lusting for Mike and floundering:

1) Summer comes around, unusually warm, and Mike starts regularly working shirtless in just, like, basketball shorts (let’s not even talk about the way basketball shorts can drape in certain places) all around the house and grounds. Fanny and Cap reach a quiet understanding with each other on certain issues, and take to trailing him around the house whenever there’s a time they think Alison won’t notice, to enjoy the view. They’re both too civilized for spying in the bathroom, like Mary does, but they’re not above this... they just don’t want anyone else to know that they’re not above this, so make excuses for their reasons to be present whenever they get caught at it. Of course, everyone else noticed this forever ago, but they’re all too amused by it to say anything about it. They both particularly flounder in their excuses whenever it’s Alison that finds them. She, of course, knows damn well why they’re following Mike around. She enjoys the view, too. She does not call them on it. She is in fact the most amused person in the house. Mike’s reaction depends on the snippets he can get of Alison’s side of the conversation with the two, from irritated at things like ‘”I don’t know how useful you are supervising Mike’s tile work; it’s not like you can tell him if it’s going wrong,” to confused at things like, “Oh, you particularly like the wallpaper in this bathroom, do you?” But whenever Mike asks Alison about it, she tells him, “oh, the Ghosts are just being weird again,” because really, it can’t hurt him, and she thinks the Repression Duo really could use letting go long enough to enjoy the view. Then it cools down again, Mike starts wearing shirts, and Cap and Fanny both immediately go back to their scoffing.

2) Captain has just finished his evening pre-bed security inspection of Button House (headcannoned) and gasp, shock, horror: the door has been left unlocked. Alison must be informed at once. The security of Button House depends on it! He rushes up to Alison’s room to tell her, to walk in on gasp, shock, horror: the thing he dreads the most, (’horseplay’) heterosexual sex! He makes a noise of alarm. Alison hears and then sees him and shrieks. Mike shrieks because Alison shrieked and jumps out of bed. Cap quickly looks away from Alison (but doesn’t run away, as Alison still must be informed, he has a duty) because he’s a gentleman, and also, frankly, because naked woman is just not a sight he wants to see. And instead, he ends up looking directly at Mike. And: damn. Daaaammmmmmn. And suddenly, my boy is Sprung. Up close IRL frontal views of hard bodied naked men just weren’t something he got much of whilst alive. I mean, there were always communal showers, but taking a good hard look was not something that would have gone well for him in his time. Cap comes to his senses and starts to retreat, just as Alison starts yelling at him to leave. He tells her about the unlocked door as he runs through the nearest wall. But he flounders whenever Mike is around for the next several weeks, and can’t quite look Alison in the eye. After Alison gets over her initial irritation at him (after all, it’s not like he can knock) and eventually talks him down. But still, Cap never quite looks at Mike the same way again (daaammmnnn).

If what you’re looking for is actually the pining at Mike and Alison being cute, though, I can do that, too:

3) Captain eventually acknowledges and comes to terms with the fact that he’s gay. And every time he sees Mike and Alison together, being cute and coupley, cuddling on the couch, holding hands, kissing, it just kills him.He starts trying to avoid them, just so he doesn’t have to think about it. Gaping sadness. Not because he doesn’t get to be like that with Mike. But because he never got to be like that with anyone.

#bbc ghosts #the captain #mike cooper #alison cooper #a bit of fanny button #have some lust with a bit of angst at the end #it was the best i could offer at this time #hopefully it works for you

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petork · 3 years

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-105 please

NB i am told this was meant to say 1-50

thanks queen <3 here we go

1. Who is your favourite ghost?

lately? it's been kitty. and i'm contractually obligated to love the captain

2. If you could see the ghosts like Alison, which one do you think would come the closest to making you want to leave the house?

the obvious answer is julian but probably actually robin, i HATE being spooked (as the asker can attest xx)

3. How would you feel if you couldn’t see the ghosts, but knew they were there, like Mike?

i'd feel mad jealous even though i'd actually have it pretty good. the other person would be trying so hard to tell me how much it sucks and i'd just be like 'but... goast.....'

4. Would you want to see ghosts like Alison, or would you rather be ignorant to their goings and doings?

again my immediate answer is I WANNA SEE THEM but i also know that might suck in many ways. at least for a while. i am not a patient person so i don't know if i could learn to live with them like alison could. but on the other hand... the chance to actually talk to people from the fucking actual past... thinking emoji!

5. If you were a ghost living in the house, would you rather be upstairs with the main nine ghosts, or downstairs with the plague ghosts?

upstairs for sure, sorry to the plague ghosts but i do not want to hang out in a basement for eternity

6. If you were someone who died in the house would you rather be “sucked off” immediately, or would you like to hang around a bit and get to know some of the other ghosts before getting “sucked off”?

i would probably just end up staying forever because i'm scared of the void of death.... <3

7. Which ghost would you miss the most if they were “sucked off” in the next series?

UNBELIEVABLE question? i'd miss ALL OF THEM. but see question 1 also

8. Which ghost do you think you’d get along with the best?

it's hard to say. i think they would all get on my nerves because as said i am not very patient. but the one who would irritate me LEAST... maybe pat?

9. Which ghost would you say you’re most like?

captain. not to be a cliche but i'm gay and repressed. and also irritable and grumpy

10. Which ghost would you say you’re least like?

JULIAN

11. What is a (popular or not) fan theory that you love?

(pasted from prev answer) i don’t actually like ship it because he’s definitely older than her, but a couple of people have said kitty sometimes acts like she has a crush on thomas. which is cute to me even if she does need to get better taste (love u kitty xxx)

12. What is a (popular or not) fan theory that you don’t quite agree with?

(pasted from prev answer) not so much a specific theory but i disagree with the general idea that anything of consequence went on with the captain and havers. i think it was meant to come across as just a snippet of the captain’s poor sad gay life and, as several brain geniuses have pointed out, due to the timing of germany invading france + the captain’s medals the flashback must have been from a good few years BEFORE he died. and i think the flashback was the last time they ever saw each other, so i don’t think that a) havers has any link to the captain’s eventual death or 2) anything romantic ever happened between them

13. Favourite ship and why?

captain x my cute oc boyfriend because i've tailored it to my exact needs. why ship retail when you can ship bespoke?

14. Least favourite ship and why? (Please be nice though!)

patcap as we all know. like YES i'm a contrary bitch so i don't like things that are popular and i do think i'm better than everyone else... but really idk why exactly i just don't gel with it at all. and when i've tried to read fic in the past it feels to me like their characters are kind of flattened. and i think the captain is too much of a bitch. and i think pat is serving us normie heterosexual. it's the 'cinnamon roll' ship of this fandom and i can't STAND (metaphorical) cinnamon rolls. AND ALSO pat is not the simple soft dad cinnamon roll fandom often makes him out to be! like he is a very nice person but he's also fucked up and insane like all of them. anyway my brain charges extremely low rents

15. If you could go back in time and live in the house/on the property at the same time as one of the ghosts when they were alive, who would you pick?

captain. need to know wtf's going on with him

16. Would you rather inherit the house (and its ghostly inhabitants), or just visit?

realistically... visit. i think i would lose my mind eventually if i lived there

17. Do you think we’ll ever know how every ghost died? Do you think there will be anyone whose death we’ll never learn about?

i hope we do, but i also appreciate that isn't the sole point of the series, otherwise it would be kinda boring and discovering how they died wouldn't be as impactful. if there's anyone's death we don't find out about, i think it would probably be robin? lol what if it was so long ago he just forgot

18. What is your favourite Ghosts fanfiction?

so i'm stupid and i never use bookmarks on ao3..... i've read a LOT of different fics i like but do you think i can revisit them? no! because i'm stupid! so i cannot fairly pick an absolute fave sorry

19. What is your favourite Ghosts fan art?

THIS <3

all the babies and children on here talk about horrible histories the show being 'their childhood'........ put some respect on terry deary's name. and this artist did!

20. Tag 5 favourite Ghosts fandom content creators!

honestly i'm not good with like. knowing people. but here are 5 fanfics i've enjoyed (based on the author's replies in my inbox because, again, i am too stupid to use bookmarks)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287567

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868645

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28653192

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067277/chapters/68761830

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26957662/chapters/65795407

21. Are there any historical periods you wish we’d have gotten to see a ghost/ghosts from but didn’t?

(pasted from other post) not to be predictable but i would have liked to see a 1960s ghost. like a mod who crashed his scooter or something. we have enough 20th century ghosts though but i believe the us remake has some kind of hippie ghost…

22. What is something you’re hoping to see in a future series?

flashback to the captain getting some. like implied or whatever. i can't cope with him dying a virgin. he needs this

23. What is something you’re hoping to see in a future series, but know we probably WON’T get to see?

(pasted from other post) alison meets someone else who can see ghosts, and we get to see the ghosts at THEIR house…. i always love it when we see extra ghosts but i know they probably won’t make any recurring because it would come off as running out of ideas. but i still think they should add a 90s teenager named roy

24. Which lesser-seen characters would you like to see more of in future series?

tbh there's none i can think of that i think we should SEE more of, they get a pretty good balance. there are some i definitely want to learn more about though

25. Are there any characters you wish we’d see less?

don't make me pick a least favourite child </3 but also i think thomas could probably tone it down a bit.

26. Favourite one-liner?

I'LL WAIT FOR YOU, MY COMELY NUG - me whenever i order chicken nuggets on just eat

27. Favourite episode?

DON'T EVEN... i like 2x06 and 3x05 a lot

28. Top 5 headcanons for [insert character name here]?

i'm going to do the captain because obviously i am

- he may or may not have been lavender married

- he may or may not have had a drinking problem

- public schoolboy with domineering father, clearly

- IF he had a lavender wife then she spent all her time in the company of her 'odd' female friend who wore men's clothes, smoked cigars and drove a motorbike. the captain was obviously clueless

that's 4 so a cheeky one for fanny:

- she did a lot of medicinal coke

29. Whose costume is your favourite?

kitty. gotta love an ott ballgown

30. Whose costume is your least favourite?

that's an offtopic question. you have been stopped.

31. If you could do a complete redesign of one of the ghosts’ costumes, whose would you change and how?

i would give thomas his double denim

32. If you could play any of the existing ghosts, which one would you want to play and why?

i think i'd be good at playing mary. meek weird girl who says things that don't make any sense? omg she is LITERALLY me

33. Which ghost would you least like to play and why?

julian, i'm not getting my pussy out

34. What one thing would you miss most if you became a ghost and had to live by the same rules as the Button House ghosts?

FOOD. food. eating and food.

35. How do you think one or more of the ghosts whose deaths we haven’t seen died? Or, if we know the cause of death but not the reason for the death (like Mary being burned as a witch or Humphrey being beheaded), why do you think they were killed?

i think mary's execution might have had something to do with her husband's death and her being unfairly accused or something. also like, she just acts kinda weird, and we know how that often played out for women back then...

and i think the captain died in some really boring mundane natural causes way (congenital heart attack or something) but he's stuck around because a) he's never come to terms with the whole h*mo thing and 2) he was just really mad that he died so boringly

36. Favourite [insert character name here] moment?

CAPTAIN GETTING KITTY TO SMILE

37. What do you think [insert character name here] was like when they were alive? Do you think they were exactly the same as they are now, or do you think there were any major or minor differences?

ok i'll do fanny for this one. i think she was less domineering when she was alive, in death she clearly thinks of herself as above the other ghosts and bosses them around, and when she talks shit about george it's not like he can get back at her in any way. but it would be interesting to see how they interacted when both were alive

38. It’s your turn to pick a movie for film club! What are you watching?

(from prev post) i haven’t seen any movies errr….. maybe austin powers because it’s so sad that julian died just a few years before it came out because he would love it and get really annoying about quoting it all the time and it would be really funny for the captain (who thought the movie was unironic) to have to deal with that. and fanny would NOT COPE.

39. Would you rather share a room with Thomas (constantly sighing and reciting bad poetry) or Fanny (falls out of the window screaming every night)?

fanny. men be quiet challenge

40. If you could do some kind of historical swap (i.e. place a ghost in a different period from their own), who would you choose and what period are they from now?

i would like to give kitty the chance to be a 20th or 21st century girl. maybe an era like the 60s or 80s that was known for daring fashions, i think she would luv it

41. Let’s settle this once and for all. Who’s the real leader, the Captain or Pat?

fanny

42. If the ghosts could eat, what is one food you would like to share with them that they might not have tried before?

doritos tangy cheese, mountain dew baja blast, 4loko. i would make thomas try a jalapeno. i would also make them try my cooking experiments because i do that to anyone i live with

43. You’ve heard rumours of a tenth upstairs ghost who doesn’t often venture out of their room to visit with the other residents of the house. Who are they? (i.e. make up a ghost OC. I know i’m putting you on the spot. I just want to see what you come up with.)

it's george button and his bitch ass is too scared of his wife to come down. his downfall comes when he finds out there's another gay ghost and simply has to clap them cheeks (he fails)

44. Tell me a song you think [insert character name here] would like, or a song that reminds you of them!

i think alison's probably already introduced him to them but thomas + anything by the smiths. i would also make the captain sit quietly and listen to a tracy chapman cd (for my lover...)

45. What song(s) do you think would annoy certain ghosts the most?

the smiths would annoy everyone except thomas. literally they'd all be trying to re-kill him

46. Who is one actor you’d love to see guest star? What kind of character would you like to see them play?

steve coogan as like. anyone. preferably a ghost. a roman centurion ghost if you wanna get cultural. but seriously i just want alan

47. If you could have one Horrible Histories song in Ghosts (either sung by a ghost/ghosts, or playing on the TV or computer for them to watch), which one would you want it to be and why?

that song about how no 'british' stuff is actually british. like tea. i want julian to melt down

48. What do you think the ghosts’ jobs would be in a modern living-human AU where they’re all just chaotic housemates?

captain & kitty: have their own wedding planning company

julian: still a politician but instead of an mp he's like a parish councillor. handforth antics

fanny: headteacher

robin: cool off the shits teacher at same school who undermines fanny wherever possible. deals weed to students

mary: runs a shop selling like healing crystals and incense and dreamcatchers

humphrey: customer service supervisor who actually likes his job because he takes no shit and just fucks with every single customer

thomas: unemployed podcaster

pat: dogwalker

49. What is one modern invention you think [insert character name here] would be surprised or confused by?

fanny would be so baffled by any Feminine Products. when she discovers tampons it's all she can talk about for a week. the mooncup made her go into a coma

50. Name an AU you haven’t seen someone create content for, but which you’d love to read a fic or see some art for.

not to be the way i am but i'd love if anyone ever drew art or something about my au which is a modern-day au where fanny and captain are alison and kitty's divorced parents, julian and robin are captain's brothers and alison's wack uncles, mary is their childhood nanny, thomas is a student lodger at button house, humphrey is a cat and pat is just some guy. but yeah in the past i've had a couple of anons on here mention it and i did melt into a puddle... i think if someone did art i'd explode and die. in a good way like

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anxiouslymalicious · 5 years

Text

Losers Club Plus One Part 3

Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series Read the previous part here or go here for the series masterlist.

A/N: Thank you all so fucking much for the amazing and overwhelming feedback! I appreciate all of this so much! The word count on this is almost 3000 words so lean back and enjoy the ride. Warnings apply as usual, but I hope you enjoy!

Silent tears had been rolling down Y/N’s cheek as Richie drove them back to the Town House. Her whole body felt cold, adrenaline was wearing off and the young girl could feel her throat burning, her joints aching, her eyes stinging as hot tears created an unwelcome contrast on the skin of her cheeks.

Richie was trying to crack her up with jokes, desperate to get any kind of reaction out of her but she remained quiet, safe for the occasional whimper leaving her lips although she bit her lip in hopes of keeping them in. Y/N didn’t want her father to worry more about her than he already did. She knew that she had to keep herself together until they got back home. Home. Where she was safe, where she could build walls and crumble behind them, just like she knew her father would. His walls were more out there but concealed very well. He had always used his humour as a wall to shut the people out, but the wall had a weak spot for his little girl. She was the only one who cared to look behind that wall, the only person he felt comfortable with, enough so to tell her honestly about how he felt.

“We’re not going home, dad.” The girl suddenly spoke up. Richie felt his eyes fill with tears again that he quickly tried to blink away.

“Yes, we are. I’m not arguing about this. I am your father. I say we are going home.” Richie replied, anger seemingly filling his slumped over body. His body felt too heavy to sit upright for another minute. But it wasn’t hot anger that was running through his veins, no, it was ice cold fear.

“Dad, you knew why he was calling from the start. Don’t act like you thought this was going to be a happy little get together with old friends. You threw up after Mike called and I know that it wasn’t just your usual nervous stomach. That wasn’t a new set, not a new place, you knew what you were getting yourself into. And who says that IT will not follow us if we run away now?” Y/N replied angrily. Richie parked the car in front of the Town House, shortly followed by Eddie’s car.

“Listen. We are going to get out of this car, get our shit, and walk away from this place without ever looking back. I am not going to risk your life or mine to fight that stupid bitch again.” Richie told his daughter before getting out of the car, harshly slamming the door behind him.

“So, you would rather see your friends die fighting without you?” she yelled through the hotel lobby where Eddie was already waiting for the pair, ready to walk back to their rooms with them. Eddie was shocked to say the least. The girl who had looked so vulnerable only minutes ago, crying and shaking in her father’s arms, was now looking so incredibly strong and out there, a fearless warrior who was ready to join the losers in their fight against Pennywise. She intimidated Eddie for a moment.

Richie ignored his daughter, instead going with Eddie to their respective rooms. Rather than joining her father, Y/N stayed in the entrance hall, sitting down on the stairs, elbows resting on her knees, head in her hands.

“You’re right.” Eddie said softly, walking back down to the girl. “We are cowards and we would rather run from this than face it again, but we have been through a lot as kids and Richie is scared of losing you. You couldn’t imagine what we have seen.”

“So blood spraying out of a fortune cookie and kids that turn into men to kill you are pretty fucking normal in this town?” Y/N asked in return. Eddie remained quiet for a minute, then sighed deeply.

“IT really did pay you a visit, huh?” he asked with a hummed sigh before sitting down next to her.

“I’m assuming that’s what it was. Kids usually don’t turn into adults in the blink of an eye back in LA.” Y/N joked, looking up at Eddie for the first time.

“I’m honestly sorry. But maybe that’s one more reason for you to listen to Richie. He only means well. He’s worried.” Eddie moved one of his arms to rest on Y/N’s back, hoping to provide some sort of comfort in this nightmare of a day. Y/N slung her arm around the skinny man’s waist, leaning against him for a second. He knew that she would remain as headstrong as she was before, after all, she was Richie Trashmouth Tozier’s daughter. The two separated again, Eddie going his way to pack up while Y/N was still sitting on the stairs, trying to understand or even get a grasp on what was going on.

Little did the two know that their beloved Trashmouth was watching their talk, the sweet little interactions, with a heart that felt like it would burst from being so filled with love. For a beautiful moment, everything seemed to be good. His daughter and the man he had more than platonic feelings for were getting along so well, for a moment they looked like they could actually be a family. Like they could grow to be a family. His family.

Richie scurried back into his room, telling himself that he just kept on watching because he feared IT might get back to the girl if he didn’t watch her at all times, telling himself that this was just a stupid childhood crush bubbling up again which he would forget about as soon as he left town, then threw what little clothing he had unpacked back into his suitcase, gathering Y/N’s possessions once he was done.

Ben and Beverly arrived not soon after, walking straight to the bar to get some drinks. Y/N watched them interact; they seemed anxious, stressed out, but Ben seemed strangely determined. Y/N felt weird watching the two from the shadows, thus cleared her throat as Ben and Beverly stepped a little too close to each other for comfort, effectively diverting their focus onto her.

“Might want to keep things PG around here.” She told them with a small smile on her lips. Beverly and Ben gave her a shocked look before Ben chuckled a little, muttering a ‘Peep-peep.’ Which confused Y/N for a second before another voice made her shake off the thought.

“You really are Richie’s kid.” Beverly said with a soft smile directed at the younger girl.

“Yep, she is. And that’s why she’s going home with me. Eduardo! Ándale, let’s go!” Richie replied, raising his voice at the last part to reach Eddie upstairs in his room. Y/N could make out that her father also carried her bag, making her clench her fists in anger and pull it away from him. He, although reluctant, complied. Richie knew that she wouldn’t stop fighting him until he gave in. After all, he wouldn’t act much differently.

“There is something you’re not telling us. You knew how Stanley died. You knew.” said Ben, hopeful for a reaction from the now very distant Beverly. Her eyes weren’t as bright, Y/N noticed. Glassy. Unsure.

“Wait what?” Richie was speechless, confused.

Beverly ignored Ben and Richie as she walked towards the front desk, ringing the bell for someone to help her, but ultimately choosing to pick one herself, in dire need to escape the uncomfortable situation.

“I’ve seen all of us die.” Beverly finally said, knowing that she couldn’t and wouldn’t get out of the situation without talking. Neither the men nor the girl said anything, but Y/N began piecing things together. Or so she thought. Because, admittedly, the girl was still feeling about as smart as she did when she was on the plane with her father. She had caught up snippets of memories during lunch along with being Richie’s mental storage unit, but none of the things the adults were saying made any sense to her, really. And it was starting to irritate her. So, Beverly had seen each of her friends die when they were kids. But why? And how did they fight IT? If they even did fight IT. Would they fight IT again? What even was IT? And what in hell was up with that clown?

Eddie came stumbling down the stairs, two huge suitcases with him, more than ready to leave the hellhole he grew up in when he spotted the four people. Y/N had subconsciously moved closer to her father again, suitcase carelessly dropped on the ground as she, like the adults, was stuck insider her head, trying to understand what the revelation might mean.

“What did I miss?” Eddie suddenly asked, dropping the heavy luggage on the stairs. Everyone was quiet for a moment before Y/N spoke up.

“Beverly has seen you all die, but that’s not really something special here in this town, right? I mean I have barely spent a few hours here and have been told that I would float, whatever that’s supposed to mean, and was almost killed when I tried to take a shower. Oh, and my fortune cookie made me look like a serial killer. This is perfectly normal and I’m not going insane. Right?” Y/N was desperate for someone to tell her that she was fine, that all of them were simply pulling cruel pranks on her, but no one did. The adults simply looked at her helplessly, pain clearly visible on their faces, as they watched the girl struggle with what she had gone through already. Tears were stinging in her eyes, her father trying to pull her into him, but she pushed him away with a whimper, walking away from the adults to sit on the stairs. Y/N felt like her knees were about to give in under her. And she wasn’t about to break down in front of her father. Y/N was too scared it might be the last straw that might make him take her home. Although going home didn’t sound so bad, she felt that this was bigger than just them. Hell, one of their friends had died after being asked to come back, this must be the real shit. The girl, once more, hid her face in her hands, with her elbows resting on her thighs with the intention of blocking everything out.

Hoping to calm herself.

Find comfort in herself.

Eddie laid a hand on Richie’s shoulder as they looked back at the girl who was now sitting on the bottom of the stairs. Richie sniffed shortly before giving Eddie an appreciative smile, lasting until the smaller man turned away from him and shifted his attention to Beverly.

“What do you mean you’ve seen us all die?” Eddie now asked, anxious to hear the answer.

“Yeah cause I gotta be honest, that’s a fucked-up thing to just drop on somebody.” Richie joined in.

The red-headed woman went on to explain her nightmares, causing Eddie to grow hopeful because ‘everyone has nightmares, right?’. Bill and Mike, who had returned to the group, looked rather distressed at the confession, knowing that Beverly’s nightmares weren’t just ordinary nightmares but more. The consequences should they not act. Their future should they not kill Pennywise. And, one after another, the other losers realised just that.

Y/N didn’t listen to their discussions about death, IT, nightmares and what other weird kind of bullshit they had on their minds. The young girl was still too frustrated with herself and them and decided to take a fucking break. She slipped her phone out of her jeans pocket and read the messages her friends had sent her. No one was really worried when she told her friends that she wouldn’t be coming to school because of a family emergency. No one had questioned her, and, seemingly, no one really missed her. The only messages she received were in group chats, asking for homework or whatever, no one had asked the young girl whether she was alright, her family was alright, or to see if she was even still alive.

‘Poor litte Y/N’ a message suddenly popped up. No number, no name, just the message. She tapped on the chat and only seconds later, more messages filled the screen.

‘No one really cares’

‘No one really loves you.’

‘Who are you? She texted back, heart hammering against her chest. The young girl gulped, anxious for an answer.

‘Oh, you know who I am.’

‘I can be anyone I want to be. Like Stanley in the bathroom.’

‘But who are you?’

‘Are you sure you know who you are?’

‘You are IT, right? Why are you doing this and what do you mean?’ Y/N’s fingers were shaking as she hastily hit the keys on her smartphone.

‘You’re scared. And scared children always taste better.’

‘You’ll float, too Y/N. You’ll float with Stanley and Georgie and all the other children. And no one will stop me from taking you.’

‘I can almost smell your fear. Taste it. I’m right there with you.’

And suddenly, pictures were sent to her phone. Pictures from the destroyed bathroom in their room.

Their room.

The door to the hallway.

The hallway.

The stairs.

“Come on, Y/N. We’ve got to go.” Beverly said gently, making the girl gasp as she finally tore her eyes away from the display of her phone. Short breaths were coming from her mouth, heart hammering painfully against her ribcage, almost like it was about to burst out of her chest. She looked at Beverly with fearful eyes, quickly locking her phone as to not show anyone what had just happened. Beverly looked at her, a clear question in her eyes. ‘Are you alright?’ And, silently, with a watery smile and a curt nod, Y/N answered before taking the hand Bev was holding out before her, letting the woman pull her to her feet.

Richie was watching the scene with a small, slightly pained, but mostly happy smile. He loved his daughter and he loved that the losers accepted her as one of them, but he hated that she had to be here, in this place, at this moment.

“You know, it’s no shame to talk. We all had to overcome that when we were children. Especially your father had a hard time accepting that Pennywise was real. I think it took him two or three encounters with IT to realise that none of us were joking.” Beverly said, a small smile gracing her lips as she pulled the shaking figure closer to her.

“I’m not doubting that whatever IT is, is real. I’ve seen it. I think ITs name was Stanley though. IT keeps- kept talking about him when it attacked me.”

“What did the man look like? Richie mentioned the incident several times.”

“He was tall. Curly hair. But at first, he was about my age. Light, curly hair. Brown eyes. Thin lips. Then, I looked away from him for a second and when I looked back, the kid was grown up. His hair was darker, but just as curly. And his wrists… He had cuts on them, leading up his arm. Like he killed himself.” The girl told her, Beverly nodding along with a heavy heart. Pennywise had taken on Stan’s appearance, IT knew what had happened to Stan, hell, IT was probably responsible for Stan’s tragic death!

“I think you might be right. The man you saw could have been Stan. Stanley Uris. He was one of us losers. A kind soul. A gentle soul. He was a bit scared back in the day, but who wasn’t? He always tried to be as rational as possible. I miss him. Stan and his bird book.” Beverly replied, her vision going blurry with unshed tears that she tried to blink away. Y/N nodded, feeling bad about mentioning Stan. She still had many questions but decided not to ask them in fear of causing Bev even more pain.

The pair finally reached the door where Richie was standing, holding the door open for the women before getting engaged in a conversation with someone again.

Just as the hotel door had closed behind them, Y/N received another message. She quickly opened it to see that it was a picture.

Of her back. Walking through the door.

The tiny hairs on her arms and neck stood up straight, her whole body running cold and numb with fear. Slowly, as to not draw more attention to herself, she looked back, just in time to see a clown in a silvery costume and orange hair, the most evil smile on his make up covered face and a single red balloon in his hand.

-----------------------------------------------------

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love-fireflysong · 4 years

Text

Until Dawn’s Fifth Birthday

Welp, congrats Until Dawn, you’re officially old enough to start kindergarten. You’re off to learn to read, tie your shoes, recite yous ABC’s, and learn to count to 100. Your such a big kid now, and I’m proud of you for making it this far.

I know I have done literal jack shit for the entire month, but I have been immensely enjoying the things that everyone’s been putting out for this month. So I’m gonna make this text post, not just because of it’s the five year anniversary, but because it’s actually a post I’ve been wanting to make for a while.

So here it goes:

I first learned of Until Dawn when it first came out hilariously enough. My roommate at the time had boughten it for her ps4 and I had been seeing it all over my dashboard on tumblr at the time. I didn’t play it myself though until close to a year later, when I finally had my own ps4 and I bought the game used for like $20 or something from my local game rental store. And I was hooked.

I remember jumping the first time the UD logo pulls that jump scare on the title screen. And laughing because I’m normally pretty good with jump scares, but that one managed to get me because I hadn’t been expecting one before I even started the game. (The one thing in the game that manages to make me jump every time is the mine cart you stop as Mike. For whatever reason it doesn’t matter how dark my room is when I play the game or how many times I’ve played it, I can never see the mine cart until its literally on top of Mike and the QTE is almost up and I squeak in surprise every fucking time.)

Of course I didn’t manage to save everyone during my first playthrough, I definitely lost Matt to the hook and Ash to the trapdoor (RIP darlings), and for the life of me I can’t recall how the lodge scene at the end went. I’m one of those players though that try to make choices that the characters I’m playing as would, I throw my feelings by the wayside. For example, being in the shed when the game’s making me choose Ash or Josh, and I was debating on whether or not Chris would save the girl he’s had a major crush on for a while at least, or his best friend for the last ten years. I distinctly remember wincing and sucking in air through my teeth and going “Sorry Ash, bros before hoes” and choosing Josh. And then being confused and convinced that I misunderstood the instructions? I mean I wasn’t complaining, just really, really confused. I definitely choose Ash to live at the gun one though, like there was no hesitation. I watched the whole ‘only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my time’ scene and talk and the moment control was given back to me, the gun was under Chris’s jaw and I fired.

I’m also one of the players that didn’t know that Josh had been behind everything until the reveal either. I had gotten Sam captured so I never got any of those clues and I managed to miss the other clues that hinted at it being a set up (like the bundle of newspapers). So until the reveal I was still convinced that someone was out there killing all of them. Listen, I like mystery games but I’m not very good at connecting the dots okay.

I think I stuck around for a couple of months, gorging myself of fanfiction (all ff.net stuff by the way, I can’t remember if I knew about ao3 at that point or not) but like all interests do with me, the obsession eventually faded (helped in a large part by the rampant Ashley hate going around at the time) and I moved on.

Until February of this year. I was trying to kill time till the end of March when Persona 5: Royal released and I decided to try and see how many games I could platinum until that point. I had made it through the ps3 tomb raider games, Prince of Persia 2008, and decided on replaying the Uncharted games because the ps4 collection didn’t have multiplayer trophies. I hadn’t even thought of replaying Until Dawn. I mean, I had looked at the case and I remembered the game fondly, but that was it. There was no urge or want.

I was halfway through Among Thieves when I was bored and chilling time on Youtube. And because I had been watching a couple of videos for the treasure locations in Uncharted, one of the recommended videos for me was a game sins for the series. I decided sure why not, and watched it. And watched a few of his other ones as well, Until Dawn included.

That’s right, what got me back into the series wasn’t fond nostalgia for the characters or story. It was a fucking Game Sins video. I’m so sorry.

I was devouring UD content again. I spent like 2 or 3 weeks reading everything Chrashley (with the hyper-fixation for the game back came the ship, what can I say) based on ao3 that I could get my hands on. I was back into the tag on tumblr, going through art I remembered seeing way back when and looking at usernames that didn’t mean a thing then, but mean the world to me now. And then near the end of February, when the obsession was once again starting to flag, I decided to hell with it, and clicked on the The (Almost)s.

I’m not going to expunge all my praises for the story, everyone else has done that better then I ever could. But guys, it was so good. So so good. I was hooked back into the series once again, just as I was starting to flag. And when I saw that @queenofbaws had mentioned that she was tumblr... I didn’t do anything right away. Too scared really, figured she might find it creepy, so I didn’t do anything for like a week. And then I decided fuck it, sent a message about Chris giving Ash his sweater, and following her.

And that was it. I figured I would stick around to see the story completed and just dip. Not even make a splash, just enjoy the content from the sidelines and no one would know that I was here in the first place. Same old, same old. But that was also when I started turning around the kernel in my mind that Baby It’s Cold Outside (so hold me tight in your arms and don’t let go). I didn’t even intend to write it, it was just going to be the fanfic that lived in my mind for me to stew on before bed every night. But I couldn’t sleep one night, my brain was too on and the words just weren’t stopping, so I pulled out my computer and wrote the first part from Chris standing in the snow outside to him reaching the lodge at like 3 in the morning.

I started becoming more involved in the fandom when queenie started her wip wednesdays and asked to be tagged. Hilariously enough, those days are what started me cross-stitching again too, I hadn’t touched the pattern in months at that point. So I started posting snippets of my writing, and that one day a week was the only thing pushing me to continue writing. By that point, I had stopped hanging around the edges, now trying to push myself closer into this little fandom circle.

The day I posted the story, I was fucking terrified. It wasn’t my first story, not by a long shot, but I had always considered my writing to be shit. I thought I had good ideas, but I never felt that I was able to truly bring them to life. English and grammar had never been my best subject, I was always more of a math and physics person growing up. But then that first comment from @elliepollie came in and I almost burst into tears. I couldn’t believe that someone out there liked it so much, that they were willing to leave me a review in the first place. I’m still so blown away that she was willing to recommend it as a Chrashley story for other people to read. I think that was the point I stopped hesitantly pushing my way through, and I just kicked down the doors and just yelled ‘Hey fuckers! I’m here now and you are going to fucking deal with it!’.

That was the event that opened the floodgates for me. Suddenly I was talking to people, I had friends online with the same interests as me. I’ve written more in the last six months then I’ve done in the last ten years! I’m feeling inspired to create again. I actually went out to do the first commission I’ve ever requested (speaking of which, please please please go commisson @fudgeroach. I cannot wait until he can post and show you guys the stuff he drew for me. It was worth every fucking penny let me tell you.)

I’m going to be honest, Until Dawn isn’t my favourite game. Sure it has some of my fav lines (it had been years since I played the game, and the moment Jess started her rant outside the guest cabin I was screaming it along with her) and great characters, as horrible people as they all are, but it’s never been my favourite game and likely never will be. But Until Dawn has the best fandom I’ve ever been in and I’m so, so happy to have met and known every single person here. I seriously love every single person here so, so much. You all make my life better and I’m so happy to have all of you in it. Just to quote Chris because I can: “Every second I spend with you is all I ever wanted to do with my time.” This is how I feel. This is how I feel every goddamn day now.

So yeah, I got back into this fandom from a stupid Game Sins video. But by god if it wasn’t the best choice I’ve ever made.

(PS: for those wondering, I never did finish Uncharted 2. Maybe one day...)

#until dawn #udanniversary #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

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edythe-cullen · 4 years

Text

I was inspired by @panlight with her Charlie!Vampire Hunter idea and this Drabble sprang from it. So enjoy!

Everything happened so fast.

Blood, horror and terror all at once. Mike was first, he didn’t seem to understand what was happening. A pale, slender hand wrapped itself around his neck, a white flash of teeth then red, so much red. The creature had hit the main artery, the gushing torrent of his life force pumped out and onto the ground, the blanket they had been sat on was wet and marred with splatter. There had been no time to scream, instead his last moments were open mouthed, crying out for his mother.

Then, Jessica and Tyler in tandem. The vampire who had misjudged Mike was moving on, leaving the boy half-dead gasping amongst the grass. Jessica was in his arms, almost a loving embrace as he tore into her throat. Another vampire had appeared, red headed and wild, she reached for Tyler who did not have a chance to flee. Only then did Bella understand what was happening, the stake hidden inside her bag had slipped from her mind. She had never before used it to defend herself, it had always been an offensive attack. Her father by her side. Protecting her. Keeping her safe from harm.

All she could do in that second was run.

She had reached for Angela, dragging her away while a scream penetrated the air, she could not tell whose it was, only that it was not Mike’s.

Her converse skidded on the grass, slippery with the dew of twilight, and with blood.

They had just been leaving, packing up their picnic and heading back towards their cars. They had to be back as they had school the next day, showers were to be had, bags to be packed, lunches to be made. But they had been giggly and happy from the day and the food. The sun had just sunk below the trees leaving a purple cast over the woodland. Jessica had delayed them, demanding golden hour photos and they had all agreed, ready to post the, on Instagram, evidence of their day of fun.

She hasn’t made it far, collecting herself from a fall, her palms scraped from where they had been cut against the hard ground, her hand had slipped from Angela’s. She was screaming for her to run, to keep running, and not look back. That was when she felt a foot on the small of her back, then a sharp crack. She could flee no longer.

The vampire reacher out, caressing a finger to her cheek.... then nothing but pain so violent its blackness consumed her.

News of the attack spread like wildfire.

Forks was only a small town, low crime rates, the occasional drunk driver or low level burglary, but nothing worth it making the news. Well it had, but only once in fact, as the only noteworthy thing about it was that the town experienced the highest rainfall in the continental US.

Now it was the ‘town of terror’, splashed across every news station, national new stations camped outside the victims of the families, scouring the crime scene for their own inside scoop.

The school was temporarily closed out of respect for the five senior students involved. A makeshift memorial had been created outside the main entrance, flowers and photographs and letters of mourning while five smiling faces stared out from amongst the public grief.

The house was silent and had been for many days. Alice all but lived at the Cullen house, no one had particularly missed her or even noticed her absence at home. Jasper remained close by at all times, hovering and angry. Too scared to leave her… or touch her. His very presence both protected and endangered her. She saw his conflict in her dreams, of the things he would not voice to her, all that he kept inside his soul that was on fire, always burning.

While in response to the attack the rest of the Cullen’s took shifts, each night patrolling the immediate area. She did not know if they were doing it to protect her, or their own privacy, or in revenge for murdered children. Or what would they do if they did come across the vampires. She had not asked.

She had seen them both so clearly in her dreams. A man and a woman. Both fair, both handsome but wild with anger and bloodlust, no shreds of humanity remained, not even a facade. Her dreams offered her no answers to their location as hard as she tried.

Instead she dreamt of the survivor.

A ventilator pumping air into broken lungs, a body so black and blue, a patchwork of hand prints across her body.

Carlisle had been upset upon his return, informing them collectively of the state of the survivors. Her condition was deliberate, although he doubted that they had meant for her to live.

It had upset them all, a reminder of what their kind was capable of.

Alice had known the victims in the way she knew everyone in that small high school, that Mike Newton always pushed in line when getting lunch, pulling on Jessica’s pigtails to rile her up, everyone knew they would be that couple, the childhood sweetheart who would marry. Or that Angela Webber, who sat behind her in maths and would always ask for help from her partner, Ben Cheney, both blushing with the bloom of a first crush. While Alice had often wished to be invited to hang out in Tyler’s van where he would play loud music too early in the morning, and he would laugh and joke, so casual and cool. Or Isabella Swan, the girl who would sit in the canteen staring at Alice with a scowl so deeply etched in her face, as if somehow she knew the truth about her... The only person Jasper had ever warned her to stay away from.

He had not left the hospital in over a week, his moustache was evolving into a full beard. But he didn’t care. How could he? Renee had been called on the day of and she had flown to Forks as quickly as she could. She had displayed her grief loudly and publicly and had retired to his house, their house, nestling herself into his private life as though she had never left. She would bring him food, clean clothes, she would kiss the top of his head just as she used to before. They were united once again for a cause, much like just after the birth of her…

Crowded in a hospital, praying for her recovery.

She had been born too early you see, so small, so weak, she hadn’t even been able to breathe on her own in the first few weeks. He wasn’t even able to hold her for those first few months, encased in a large plastic shield protecting her from the outside world. He used to hold Renee so tightly then, her face would be pressed against his neck and he used to wonder how she was able to breathe. He still had had to go to work, he was only a young police officer at the time. He would go and drift through his shift, all thoughts focused upon his newborn. Then he would return straight to the hospital.

This time he refused to return to work, as chief of police he had advantages and ones he was willing to take full advantage of. So instead he remained there, half-slumped in the uncomfortable hospital chairs desperately grabbing snippets of sleep before returning to his watch.

He did the same as when she was a baby encased in the plastic tomb, reaching out to take her hand in his own, praying for her to hold his hand in return.

Sleep no longer mattered, hunger no longer motivated him, nothing in the temporal world many any sense.

One relief was that the vampire had steered clear, the vampire who masqueraded as a doctor in his own local hospital. He had not been part of the debate which had allowed such nonsense of course, and everyone was already quite aware of his opinions. But he technically posed no threat, instead supposedly utilising his ‘gifts’ for good (they still kept an exceptionally close eye on the hospital blood banks and all local hospitals) and appeared a god-fearing good man to everyone who did not know his true evil nature.

He had however received a letter, written in a ridiculous fancy script that took him longer to decipher than to read the note in its entirety. It was an apology. A sincere expression of grief for the deaths of the teenagers and of the state of his daughter, how the vampire had regretted not being there in order to repel the other vampires, to protect the teenagers and if there was anything he could do to help him...

He ripped the letter up, burning it with the lighter he always kept on his person. He did not need a vampire’s sympathies.

Never in his life would he ask for help from a vampire, certainly not Carlisle Cullen.

Carlisle remained at the nurses station, a safe distance away from peering eyes, and unhappy vampire hunters, but close enough he was able to monitor the girl as much as he could and to offer assistance should it be needed. Guilt threatened to overwhelm him often, as it had to be his fault for the death of the four, soon to be five, teenagers. Had their presence not drawn in the strangers then this would not have happened.

Not that the strangers had made themselves known to them, instead making occasional visits to their land, crisscrossing with their scents, but making no move to communicate. Not that Carlisle would have anything pleasant to say. He had seen the crime scene photographs, the mutilation of the bodies had been graphic, but he could not fully understand the intention, whether it was to be a message, or a warning?

The mother of Isabella Swan entered once again, looking haggard and wild, with some awful-smelling food packed into a Tupperware container. She went and greeted her ex-husband gently, kissing the top of his head, wincing at his rejection.

Carlisle wanted to walk away, tend to his other patients, but he could not. Just in case Isabella Swan coded again and he was the only one who could save her, listening to the minute changes in the human body that were lost to the human ear. She had already coded three times within forty-eight hours.

“Charlie... I’ve spoken to Annalise Becker again...” The bereavement counsellor, who no doubt would have briefed Renee on the best care for her daughter. Informing her where they were in her care plan and where they were going. That there had been little to no change for over a week, that the chances of her waking up were slim and chances of a full recovery was nil. The stress that her body had been put through had been monumental and for a moment Carlisle was immensely proud of this random human girl and her resilience, her fight to live.

“I don’t want to hear it Renee.” He cut her off, unwilling to consider any other approach than waiting and hoping, that there was any other option than recovery. Annalise Becker had most definitely suggested the termination of life support, it would be quick after that, painless. With the ventilator removed and other wiring that was keeping her alive she would look peaceful, almost like she were sleeping.

“And what?” There was a crash and he looked away, pretending to read notes, while other hospital staff watched the room just in case their assistance was needed. “You’re not killing my daughter Renee!” The door was thrown open, the door handle slamming into the wall and leaving a deep gouge. Charles Swan stood in the doorway looming and ferocious, like a cornered dog.

He ducked his head, he did not plan on aggravating Charlie anymore.

“No one touches my daughter!” He roared, a warning to staff, and stormed towards the emergency exit.

Carlisle could see it then, the fearlessness needed to hunt vampires, the ability to stare one of their kind in the eye and drive a stake through the chest. He no doubted the man would rather face seventy vampires than his current situation.

“Awful isn’t it doctor,” a young nurse shook her head, looking forlorn towards the room. “So young, such a waste.”

“Did you know her?”

“Who? Isabella? Oh yes, my younger brother is friends with her, she was always so kind, so lovely. She tutored him in government until he got an A, didn’t ask for anything in return.” She sighed deeply, catching a stray tear and leaving him once more to stew at the nurses station.

Something made him think of his own father, and if he had had the chance to mourn his own death at the hands of a vampire. If he had found his corpse hidden in that basement, dead to the world while he transformed, would he have driven a stake into his heart? Or would he had helped him escape? Carlisle was not sure of the answer, but he knew he would not have wanted his father to suffer in his grief alone. Before he realised what he was doing he was moving toward the exit.

Charlie Swan was crouched, head hanging so low, while tears dripped a steady rhythm onto the grass beneath him.

“Charlie...”

At his voice the man looked up, the face of a grieving man transformed into one of anger.

“What do you want?”

In an attempt to touch the tissue as little as possible Carlisle held it out towards Charlie, a peace offering. Charlie stared at the small white tissue with such strange mixed emotions, he took it eventually, a grab that had it ripping, and a small corner remained held between his fingers.

He did not know what to say so as not to offend the man, he could not offer condolences as he would throw it back in his face, nor could he offer advice as it would only inflame the man. So instead he leant against the brick wall.

“I cannot begin to understand your grief, but my wife can, her boy died at birth and I saw how it consumed her.” He swallowed, an unnecessary human habit, but it displayed his nerves. He was sure Esme would not mind him sharing her tale however. “That is what killed her, her boy died and she couldn’t bare it, so she ended her own life shortly afterwards. I found her, mostly dead, and...” He stopped himself, unable to use the word ‘save’ as he knew Charlie would object. “I changed her, but it took a long while, dealing with it all. I’ve seen how consuming it can be... I can give you her number if you want someone to talk to about it...” Once more he knew the man would not accept the offer, but he hoped it was the thought that counted.

He tried to understand the man before him, who had yet to say a single word beyond ‘what do you want’.

Then it dawned upon him, justice.

As any man would want.

“We’re looking for them still, we believe it’s just two of our kind. We still don’t understand the motive and they have yet to reach out to us. But...” He wondered if there was some Volturi code against what he was about to say, he was sure living in close contact with a group of vampire hunters had already broken a few laws anyway so what was one more, they would be dead within the century nonetheless and any crimes would be forgotten and thus forgiven. “If we do find them... we can pass on their location to you...”

He thought of his own youth, of London, of those midnight raids and of the horror he had seen that still lived with him to this day. Of the countless victims, both poor and rich, left like debris in the street, or thrown into the Thames without a second thought who would wash up on the banks leaving a detailed trail of evidence of the amount of vampires who lived within London. Violent crime was high back then and it was so easy to get away with.

“You would turn in your own kind?”

Charlie had not used the tissue, scrunching it tightly inside his fist, while his other hand rubbed at his red eyes, wiping away the tears.

“I do not associate myself with those kinds of vampires.” He responded, his tone tight and short. “You did not attend the meeting when we first arrived... I explained to your brethren then that while we may be vampire in appearance we do not engage with violence or killing, we only wish to exist in our quiet corner, undisturbed. Your council agreed to those terms. We are not like the rest of vampire kind.”

It was clear Charlie did not believe his words, or understand them, Carlisle could not tell which.

The hate for vampires was hard-wired into his DNA, suspicion was perhaps the kindest emotion he could regard Carlisle with, and for that he accepted it.

“Since you’re here I want the truth. No sugarcoating. What did the vampire do to my daughter and what happens next?”

He couldn’t look at Carlisle as he spoke, instead his eyes were trained on the horizon. Even so he still played with the large silver signet ring on his left hand, a weapon if needed.

“Her spine is broken... she has several broken ribs, her femur is broken in two, alongside serious deep tissue bruising. Butt this is mostly superficial, and will heal over time. What the concern is the serious brain bleed she suffered...” He could see it then, the violent image invading his mind, the way the vampire would have slammed her head into the ground to subdue her, as it immediately quieted the victim through either knocking them out or disorientating them. Carlisle assumed she had been fighting, utilising her silver jewellery to the best effect, as evidence by the scratches on her hands and torn fingernails. “The brain activity we would be hoping to see, any improvement at all, just isn’t there... This is not what we expect to be seeing when the patient is in recovery...”

He paused, watching as perhaps for the first time, Charlie acknowledged the severity of his daughters condition.

The next thing he saw was a first aimed straight for his face.

“So you’re telling me.... that you and that Black kid have never....”

“Fucked!” Mike cut in laughing, Jessica aimed a sharp kick that he managed to dodge, angry he had ruined her interrogation.

“Nope.” Bella shrugged unable to bite back a smile. Just because she hadn’t technically had sex with him in the traditional notion didn’t mean she hadn’t done stuff. But that was private. She thought of only the previous night where he had come over for dinner with Charlie. They had gotten along so well, talking of sport, fishing and cars. Traditional guy stuff. Charlie had practically beamed when she told him they were dating, as though he and Billy had had it all planned out since their births’.

How as she had walked him to his car after Charlie had waved him off he had held both her hands in his, how warm he was, how comforting. How he had pressed his lips to her own and she had felt like she was on fire.

“You’re such a little tease Bella.” Jessica rolled her eyes, and snapping her gum so loudly it echoed around the clearing.

“What about you and...”

“Shut your whore mouth?” She had dived on her, clamping a hand around her mouth while the two wrestled, giggling with each other until Bella emerged victorious.

“Stupid question Bella, of course we’ve done it. Nearly got caught too last week by my mom. She wasn’t supposed to be home until seven but...” Mike shrugged with a cool laughter while he and Tyler hi-fived.

“Mike that’s private!” Jessica whined having nestled herself into Bella’s lap she began to plait her hair. It didn’t particularly matter about what they knew about each other. All being close friends, they were the core five after all. Bella just liked her intense privacy.

Although Angela did know everything. But she was a special case, she was Bella’s person.

“I think everyone knows what you and Mike get down to in sixth period,” Tyler chuckled with a sly wink at Mike. Jess squealed in anger.

“Anyway shouldn’t we be heading back soon, we’ll be loosing the light soon.” Angela suggested, relieved to shift the conversation away from boyfriends and other stuff like that. She began to tidy their picnic away, all the Tupperware and flasks they had brought.

“Ang come on, we know these woods well. We’ll be fine.” Mike tried to convince her. What he was really saying, which both Bella and Jessica understood, was that it was safe from supernatural terrors. Wolves and bears were a whole other deal but they were not too deep in the woods and nothing had happened all day, nor was the dark a problem, each having their phone with a flashlight on it. No one was particularly worried.

So they stayed that bit longer, joking and laughing, Mike and Tyler wrestling as boys do. Only when the cold started to set in did they move, packing their things up and heading back towards their cars, trucks and vans. Bella needed gas on her way home, she reminded herself again, having meant to do it the past two days. They reached their vehicles, hugging and saying goodbye to one another. Mike hoisting himself into her cab, his house was on her way home and it had made sense to give him a lift.

“God I don’t want to go back to school tomorrow,” he pulled out a stick of gum offering her one, she had already completed all her homework, so all she had to do that evening was shower and read her book a little, she wasn’t particularly hungry and Charlie was working late.

As she pulled out, her headlights sweeping across the vehicles of her friends she felt a deep unsettling unease spread through her bones. Mike began to fiddle with her radio with futility, it had been broken for months.

“This isn’t right.”

“Huh,�� he wasn’t listening, instead still twisting the knob with intensity.

“Mike.” She slammed on the break. “Something… something is wrong?” He continued to ignore her, the radio static only increased in volume, a screaming static loudness that made her skin itch.

She caught his hands in her own, “look at me, why won’t you look at me?”

She slammed on the break as a strange, tingling numbness had begun to spread throughout her body. The static noise faded into the background, a soundtrack of nothingness.

“It doesn’t matter that it didn’t happen like this though, you don’t really want the truth do you?” His hands turned to ice in her hands, becoming stiff.

“What truth?” Her voice wobbled, fear grasped at her throat as the tingling began working its way up her spine, ice colder than Mike’s hands began spreading out like roots underneath her skin. She had to look up, every sane thought in her body was begging her to keep her eyes down, settled on his hands, where it was safe, unsettling but safe. But she had to look… she had to…

Blood coated his green rain jacket, his neck, more of a wound than a neck, pumped out blood almost lazily, leaving a waterfall effect down his jacket and onto her car seat, before pooling in the seat well. His eyes were bloodshot from burst veins, his skin a mottled grey and his mouth, his lips leeched of colour.

“You didn’t want this did you Bella, to remember this?” His voice was a mere rasp, she knew in reality he wouldn’t have been able to speak as his vocal cords had been torn, screaming as he drowned in his own blood.

She didn’t understand… how could…

She screamed, so loudly it hurt her own throat, she screamed and screamed and couldn’t stop as the memories began to flood back. Of each kill, watching her best friends murdered before her eyes before the culmination of her own death, the numbness in her legs where the vampire had stood on her spine so heavily it had been cleaved in two. She had stood no chance.

“Am… am I dead?”

Tears splattered down her face, the rain came down heavily, so heavily her windshield wipers could not keep up with it, beating loudly down upon the roof of her truck. She was stuck inside, unable to move, unable to see.

“Oh Bella…”

Mike’s hand, so cold, brushed her hair away from her face.

Renee had not set food in the church since she had baptised Bella there. She had not been raised religious but had had been Charlie’s church, Charlie’s faith. She hasn’t minded at the time knowing she was going to afford her baby her own choice, exposing her to as many different world views, ideas and religions as she could. Then she would let her decided. And if..... if she chose Charlie’s church then so be it. She had tried.

All the good it did her.

Bella had made her choice, unfortunate as it was, but she had made it. She had chosen Charlie’s church. And here it was her funeral would take place.

Her hands shook as she blessed herself as she entered, the holy water was so cold as it touched her forehead. A blessing. It felt wrong. She wasn’t the one who needed blessing in that moment.

Instead she sat on the pew at the very back, hidden to one side. The church was large and wooden, Pastor Weber was one of the other parents who had lost a child. She knew the girl was one of Bellas closest friends. Who probably knew her daughter better than she did.

Pulling out her phone she scrolled through coffin prices. She had not realised just how expensive death was and she hoped to god Charlie had some liquid assets. Maybe they could use Bella’s college fund? As she certainly didn’t need it anymore. She and Phil certainly didn’t have money they could throw around. Even worse she now had to compete with four other mothers.

Who was the saddest?

Who grieved most?

Who spent most on their child’s funeral?

All of those questions swirled round her head. She knew Karen Newton definitely had her beat in nearly all of those categories. Charlie was doing a good job of acting the crazy father. Not even leaving her side to eat or sleep. It would have to end soon, soon he would break and it would be up to her to pick up the pieces. Again.

She favourited a nice pine coffin. Affordable.

Charlie would kill her if he knew what she was thinking, but she was just future planning. She was always good at that. It was how she had escaped Forks.

“Mrs Swan...” a voice came from her right, someone must have snuck in.

“It’s Dwyer now.” She responded coolly.

Mr Newton stood over her. Grief etched deep into his features. Mike was an only child too. She knew the other parents had other siblings to cling too. Their homes weren’t forever empty , filled with ghosts.

“May I sit?” Mr Newton, Kier, had been a few years above her in school.

“Sure. Why not.”

He collapsed beside her, his breathing laboured, she assumed he had been crying.

“How is she doing?”

Her acrylic nails dug into her palm. If he offered prayer for her dying daughter there was no promise she would act right.

“No better but no worse.” She unclenched her fists. “I spoke with the doctor the other day about end of life care.” She wondered if he would flinch. He did.

“I’m sorry Renee,” her said her name with such care, none of this Mrs business, she knew it was all bullshit anyway. He said her name like Charlie used to.

“How are you and Karen doing?” She wielded the name of the wife with care.

“Strange. It’s all so strange. I keep going to wake him up for school in the morning, I’m half asleep see, then I go into him room and.... nothing has changed. The bed is still made, the curtains open, the folded clothes that he had promised he’d put away when he got back. It’s empty. The whole damn house is empty. And I break down.” They had closed the shop for the time being so his days was filled with nothingness, similar to her.

“I keep going to text her. That’s how we kept in contact. Constant texts. Anything funny I’d see I’d send it to her. I still do. Whether I remember or not. But they’re starting to pile up now, all the messages unread.... they weren’t able to find her phone so I don’t even know if they have the phone. It makes me sick to think of...” The words began to pour out of her, all black bile and anger, so she bit them back.

“No word on the case?”

“No. No fingerprints, no traces of DNA, no way of know where they even went. Nothing. It’s like they disappeared.” Not that Charlie had been any help on that front. Instead she had charmed it easily from the deputy.

He heaved a sigh beside her

“The funeral is tomorrow. They’re doing one a day, making it a long weekend. Friday to Monday. I think they’re trying to make it some community thing. But Mike’s is tomorrow.” He scrubbed at the stubble that had grown due to negligence. “Would you like to come?”

“That’d be lovely Kier. Thank you.” Like a cobra ready to strike she reached up, pressing a hand to his arm gently.

The solidarity of the grieving parents.

It didn’t take much more. For them to sneak around the back of the church, away from the eyes of the God, but more importantly away from he eyes of the road. For him to slam her against the wooden slats. His mouth hungry against her own. Searching for answers, for relief, anything to take the pain away. She let him use her, letting his hands roam, his mouth abuse her own. She shoved him away shortly after he had finished, not bothering to pull her underwear up, she kicked it away to the nearest shrub.

He was crying again. Mumbling apologies. Half sentences that bled with guilt that came with cheating on your wife while she grieves your dead son.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Kier,” she promised and was gone.

“He’s asked you to what?”

Carlisle had asked him to go on a ‘walk’ with him, the rest of the family had assumed he had meant a hunt, preferring the euphemism. Only Edward had known the truth, privy to the turbulence within his maker’s mind, torn and confused. Carlisle hid the reason away, creating a puzzle for Edward to piece together.

It hadn’t taken long, just far away that they became out of ear-shot of the rest of the family. The moon could barely reach its fingers into the deep fo the wood, so black the two figures practically glowed.

Carlisle replayed the scene in his mind once more, Edward could feel the confusion Carlisle felt as Charlie flew toward him. He knew that the primary care physician had finally spoken to him about removing care for Isabella, and how the man had howled, full of pain and fear. Even his wife had recoiled from the sound, well ex-wife as she liked to remind everyone. Isabella Swan was dying, a little bit more each day, life leaking from her body and into the room, the ground beneath her, the soil beneath that.

“I don’t know what to do Edward?” He sat heavily upon a fallen tree, long dead it remained a hollow structure, forgotten within the woods. It was a favourite place of theirs for private conversations.

Charlie had wrapped his hands in Carlisle’s white doctor’s coat, slamming the man against the wall with little care or concern. Instead blind panic was etched into his features. “You have to change her.” There was no request, only a demand. “She can’t die. I won’t let it. You have to change her!”

“But he hates our kind?”

Edward had never met Isabella, but he felt like he knew her, like he knew all the dead children, as every mind in Forks replayed every memory they had of their dead, over and over again. He noted she was the biggest waste, the most beautiful amongst her friends. A shame.

Of course he also felt anger at their deaths, the use of violence upon children, he had seen the autopsy reports and the evidence of torture, of a brutal kill upon them all. He wondered if it were a warning. To them, vampire-hunters? Or their coven? The message was not clear.

“He loves his daughter more.”

He shrugged and rubbed his face, such a human gesture.

“You know how it affected Rosalie…” His last change, Emmett didn’t count, as Rosalie and already done half the job anyway by the time she appeared on their doorstep, bloody and crazed. But Rosalie had been so cruel, she had tortured Carlisle, twisting the sharpened knife of guilt again and again.

“You did it for my mother,” he spoke quietly, desperately trying to conjure the face of his mother. One Carlisle supplied easily, caught in his own memories as he compared the scenes of Elizabeth’s impassioned plea from her death bed, to Charlie’s angered plea. Both desperate for their children to live.

His heart ached for a moment, wishing for his mother, her laugh, or her gentle touch, just for a moment in time…

“You think I should say yes?”

He looked to him with such earnest feeling, his mind a tangle of thoughts Edward could not quite make out if he wanted him to say yes or no.

“I cannot answer that for you… however she is dying and will die regardless of your actions…” He stared off into the distance, wondering how he would have felt if people had debated whether or not he deserved to live. He would have been angry, violently angry. Of course he deserved to live… But like this? A half-life, a creature of the night having to kill to survive? “How old is she?”

“Seventeen.” Carlisle heaved a deep sigh. Their stories were so similar, Carlisle couldn’t help but compare the two in his mind, placing them side by side.

“Maybe it should be put to a vote?” It would effect them all after all, and it was quite clear Carlisle did not want to make the decision himself.

Rosalie voted no, angry even at the suggestion. But it was Jasper who surprised him, a no, it was of course not safe to have a young vampire around Alice as it would create even more danger for her. Carlisle abstained. Esme was conflicted, but was leaning towards yes believing the girl should have some chance at life, Emmett voted yes. While he waited and watched instead he became the deciding vote.

Rosalie bared her teeth at him, warning him not to go against her just to be contrary, a girl’s souls at stake, she had reminded him, venom in her tone.

“Give me until tomorrow. Then you’ll have you answer.”

Everything was black, something pressed down on her all around, she could not breathe, instead every time she opened her mouth gasping for air her mouth was filled with something bitter tasting. Something else wriggled against her body, eating away at her flesh. She screamed but only tasted more bitterness. Fighting against the oppressive force she began to fight, kicking her arms and legs, there was one way that was easier and so she dug her fingers into the less compact blackness, toward an escape. Finally someone grabbed onto her arm, hauling her out to freedom…

She collapsed upon the ground coughing and gagging, black bile spilled from her lips, dirt, she had been buried alive…

Her body ached, from head to toe, every inch of her felt as though she had been set on fire and left to burn for hours, then flayed. Still gasping for air she lay face first upon the ground, hands grasping at the woodland debris, twigs and sticks letting them cut into her palms just to ground herself.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” a reassuring voice came from above, a hand brushed her hair gently.

“Where am I?” Her voice sounded strange, deep, it hurt to speak.

“You’re going to be okay, you’re saved.” And so she stared up into the red eyes of her murderer…

#writing #fanfic #twilight #twilight fanfic #Bella swan #Edward cullen #Carlisle cullen #Esme Cullen #Alice Brandon #Renne Dwyer #Drabble

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dcbicki · 5 years

Text

crushed velvet and winter sweats prompt: christmas + presents

“What are you thinking about?” Mike asks her.

“Nothing.”

(Your hair. Your face. That soft hand-knitted blanket upstairs and the sweater you wore a few years ago.)

“What, you’re not thinking about how boring this stupid party is?” He asks, glancing around the room, “I am.”

(Maybe El can convince him to ask his mom if they can escape to the basement, just for a little while. Maybe she can convince him to take her upstairs, lock his bedroom door and just be.)

[words: 3100+ // rating: t // relationship: el hopper/mike wheeler // characters: el, mike, nancy and holly]

[snippet below the cut or the whole thing on ao3]

“It’s a sweater,” he tells her with a shrug.

(El has just been handed a thick, oversized present. It’s wrapped with red and gold striped paper; there’s glitter sticking to her fingers already. The tag is addressed to “Jane”.)

(The old woman that just gave it to her — short in stature, dark graying hair and thick-rimmed glasses — simply kissed El on the forehead, pinched her cheeks between pruney fingers, called her “sweetheart” and then shoved the gift between her hands with a smile before leaving the two teens alone again.)

El frowns, “A sweater?” Mike nods in confirmation. He looks disinterested — not in her but in the parcel she’s holding between her hands.

“Yeah, she makes them for everyone, like, every year.” Mike folds his arms over his chest, hands wrapping around his thin biceps. He glances around the room, “come to think of it actually, I didn’t get one this year.”

El squints, teasing, “Are you jealous?” She licks her lips, taking a step closer. “You can have this one?”

“No! No, no. You keep that.” Mike lays a hand on the present, cringing as the wrapping paper rustles beneath his touch. “Yeah, that’s for you. I guess it means she’s welcomed you into the family or something.” he says, and then he stills, withdrawing his hand and running it through his hair, “You know, not like that, but… Well, like, extended- Not extended family. That’s not-” he stops himself, breathes, “My nana just- She likes to… knit things.” He bounces on the heels of his feet, nodding his head and moving one hand to cup El’s cheek in his palm, calming.

“Nana?”

“Yeah, my nana- That was my nana.” He tells her, and he moves his hand from her face to stick his thumb out over his shoulder, pointing to where the short lady has wandered off into the kitchen, “She can be pretty… abrupt.”

“Right.” El giggles and she holds the present up to her chest then, “Wait, Nana?” She asks, left eyebrow raised in mock confusion, a small smile taking over her face, “Is she okay?”

It takes him a second, but then he remembers.

“Yeah,” he says, eyes widening in realization as his cheeks drain of all color. He nods, blinking, and then his gaze shifts, lowering to the floor in semi-embarrassment. He reaches back, scratching an irritable itch that's been dancing along his neck for a few seconds, “She’s-”

“Mike,” El lays a hand on his other arm then, fingers curling around the thick sweater covering his elbow. She scrunches the wool between her fingers, taking a step closer to the boy. “I’m just kidding.” She pushes up on her tiptoes, the small heels of her Mary-Janes rising, “Chill.”

“Right, yeah.” He nods, again, swallowing down a breath so loud she practically hears it. Mike forces a smile, and he lowers his hand to rest it on her waist, thumb pressing to her hip bone, circling. Her dress is crushed velvet, black, perfect against her skin tone and dangerously soft to the touch. Mike gulps, “I’m totally chill. Totally.” He tells her, head bobbing as though it’ll convince her, him.

Dark brown hair falls into his face then, and El has to stop herself from brushing it back. If she touches it, touches him — any part, really, but most often his face — she’ll want to kiss him and she can’t do that. Not right now.

Karen is right over there and El is pretty sure, despite how warmly the woman greets her and how kind she treats her, that she wouldn’t want her son and his girlfriend openly making out in their living room when it’s full of his relatives — and extended family El is pretty sure he has no interest in talking to.

(Truth be told, she has no interest in getting to know them.)

(Maybe El can convince him to ask his mom if they can escape to the basement, just for a little while. Maybe she can convince him to take her upstairs, lock his bedroom door and just be. Maybe she can convince him-)

“El?”

Read the rest on ao3!

Tagging: @dustinhendrsn @milesfairchild @fatechica @mikewheelersmileven @the-upsides-down @caseyk112 @michael-vvheeler @milliebbrowns

#mileven #mike x eleven #stranger things #mike wheeler #el hopper #st fanfiction #fic*#ship: mike x el

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catherinewrites · 5 years

Text

BNHA OC snippet

This is a part of a story I wrote for my BNHA OC’s. This story is meant to play alongside the events of the story and this particular snippet is during the entrance exams. The OC’s that are in the story or Ryssa, Kibo, and Naya. All were created and are owned by myself and my fiance, who collabed on Kibo.

Please let me know what you think, whether it is about the characters or the writing style or anything that you want to let me know. I would love any opinions or constructive criticism. Or if you just want to talk about BNHA, I can go on for hours about that story. Thank you for taking the time to read!!! Snippet is under the cut!

The U.A. Entrance exam is today. Kids from all around the world had come to compete to be accepted into Japan’s highest rated hero academy. Only 1 out of 300 students would pass. Naya and Ryssa walk under the huge arch at the front of the school, looking up in awe. Naya had been training for this day her whole life, but until last month, this wasn’t even a possibility for Ryssa. She still didn’t really believe she was here. She didn’t belong here, but Naya wouldn’t let up, so she came along. There were all kinds of students waiting outside the front doors. Naya charged forward, wanting to get to the front of the line, though Ryssa tried to hang back.

Ryssa noticed another student hanging back. She thought she was out of place, but this kid, with his ragged clothes and old tennis shoes, really didn’t look like he belonged. There was a commotion by the door and they were let in to the auditorium to be given the rules for the practical exam. Ryssa and Naya realized they would be in different arenas for the test. Oddly, this calmed Ryssa. She always felt like she had to live up to some impossible goal with her around. She would do her best and she would go back home and not worry about a dream that won’t come true. She knew Naya was a shoo in to be in the hero course. If they let her slip by, then that was their great loss.

Naya made it to her arena and stood with the other competitors. The doors swung open and everyone ran inside, rushing to get at the enemy robots. Naya immediately transformed, her backpack latched across her chest. She became a large tiger, roaring through the crowd, scaring a few other kids as she ran past. Her plan was to just take down as many robots as she could. She would jump on their backs and rip out the wires with her fangs.

Kibo hung back, watching what the other kids did with their quirks. The large tiger threw him off a bit. He wasn’t expecting that. Shaking his head, he ran for the closest robot. Spitting into his hand, he leapt up and grabbed a hold of the wiring and a large electric shock took the robot down. That is the plan then, he thought. “Just don’t lose my cool, I can do this.”

This is how it went while the time counted down. Suddenly, the large 4th type robot was released on the arena. Everyone took off running and Ryssa was close behind, but she noticed a plain looking kid with green hair staring at the robot, she noticed a girl, stuck under the rubble and about to be crushed by the robot. Before she could react, the kid was gone and a second later, the robot had a massive hole in its face, and it was falling backwards. “That kid just did that?” Then she saw him. Falling through the air, his legs and one arm flailing behind him as if they were spaghetti. Did his own quirk do that? She would have to remind Ryssa not to copy this kids quirk. Everyone was just standing around. This kid was going to splatter if no one caught him. So, she jumped, climbing up robot by robot, she reached the boy and snatched him out of the air. She gently laid him on the ground and sniffed him, making sure he was still breathing. Time was called and she ran to transform back and change into new clothes. She got back in time to see Recovery Girl healing the injured boy.

Ryssa was a couple of arenas down. Everyone was excited but there was a particularly loudmouthed kid in the front. He was acting confident, so she went to go check him out. He was yelling about being the best and how they were all extras or something. She had to have a quirk to use, so maybe this kid’s would work. She was sizing him up, when he turned toward her, snarling.

“What the hell are you looking at!?” The fury on his face was outstanding, she looked him in the eye, and activated her quirk, her eyes flashing to grey. “What the fuck?” The kid backed up, looking more confused than scared.

“I hope you have a decent quirk, kid.” She laughs. He snarls again and the bell rings. As the doors open, he blasts his way into the arena and immediately takes down the first robot in his sights. Ryssa runs after him and watches for a second, then attempts to use his quirk. Her hand explodes in fiery heat. It scared her a little bit, but watching him take the robots one by one, she knew this is just what she needed to pass. She chased after, hitting the robots when she could. This power is so strong, of course this kid wanted to go to U.A. and he would exceed. The large 4th type robot was released, and she ran. No way was she dealing with that.

With the test completed, Ryssa met back up with Naya and heard about her weird encounter with the reckless boy.

“THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING IN OUR SMASH AND DASH, ROBOT CLASH!!!! The results will be out soon, thank you and have a good day!” With the announcement from Present Mike, they were all ushered back out to the waiting families to head home.

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rangerslayer-97 · 6 years

Text

Mighty Morphin’ Power Ranger: Shattered Grid Finale Thoughts/Review

*WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE SHATTERED GRID FINALE, I RECOMMEND NOT TO READ THIS POST. THERE ARE SPOILERS. A LOT.*

The Introduction:

Kyle Higgins and company of BOOM! Studios sent us on a roller coaster ride for the past six months from Shattered Grid’s Prologue in Issue 24 back in February, right to this anticipated finale which makes Countdown To Destruction seem small. Kyle and his team kept us buying the comics, may it be online or barging down the door of your nearest comic book store for a physical copy for your rapidly reducing shelf space.

I can safely say Shattered Grid #1 was worth the wait and build up and Kyle, with help from illustrators Daniele Di Nicuolo and Deigo Galindo and colourists Walter Baiamonte and Marcelo Costa for bringing popping colour to the series. There is so much to cover in this double-sized special at a cost of US$7.99 (EUR: 8.99), so sit down with a cup of tea and enjoy.

The Story:

The starts with an explosive opening with the rangers from MMPR-Ninja Steel (including Hyperforce and Beast Morphers [AKA: Tokumei Sentai Go-Busters]) battling Drakkon’s forces, with some new additions to take out the tower on the moon. The first two panels are not easy to look at as the Rangers already lost some of their allies; one from Zeo and the other from Super Megaforce, along with a few Megazords. Zedd’s former zord Serpentera is causing trouble (looks like Drakkon made fuel alterations). However, thanks to Jen’s access to the Time Force archives, she was able to bring up blueprints and create a hybrid zord dubbed hilariously despite the seriousness: the Whatever-We’re-Calling-It-Megazord (seems like even Kyle and the gang had trouble making up a name). This Megazord consists of Kendall’s Plesiozord, RJ’s Wolf Zord, Kat’s Super Zeo Zord and the Hyperforce Ranger’s Megazord - Chronos Hyperforce Megazord. Then add Drakkonverse Trini’s Black Dragon armour to make it match the size of Serpentera.

While Jason orders Noah to summon the Q-Rex Zord (no, not Eric’s zord), he makes the final move to send the tower crumbling, but sadly, sacrificing his life in the process AFTER admitting his feelings to Lauren (shame Jayden wasn’t there. He might want a few words.) Unfortunately, Serpentera makes a dessert meal out of the Q-Rex, crushing Jason inside. The loss of the tower meant it causes the powers of every single sentry to vanish and the hybrid Megazord delivers the killer blow, completely disabling Serpentera. Sadly, the victory is shortlived as Drakkon appears in his new form (and a giant), completely breaking the Grid and causes insane damage to the Multiverse.

We then move onto the rescue team loading the last of the prisoners onto Terra Venture. Heckyll is certainly redeemed, but I won’t be surprised if he’s still a bit of sarcastic asshole in the next event. As the group makes their escape, Grace and everyone sees the crack in the universe occurring and the entire cosmos literally shatters, which somehow casts Terra Venture out of the Grid or the existing universe.

The scene moves on and we are shown, literally a Power Rangers version of Smallville or Superman. Drakkon is living with his ‘parents’ coincidentally named Zordon and Rita *shivers*. Drakkon leaves his home and goes all Superman, revealing on his chest some kind of gem or crystal. Outside, we surprisingly see Jen piloting the Tigerzord and beside her is the Dragonzord. The city is being attacked by two giant animal spirits or Energy Beasts that have been terrorising Angel Grove. Drakkon quickly deals the attackers and is soon being interviewed by the reporters. It’s kind of hilarious seeing Trini and Zack acting a little like Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen. To our further surprise, we see the apparition of the real Tommy Oliver in the camera lens.

To cut things short of this Power Rangers version of Superman, this is a world Drakkon created, a world where everyone loves and worships him. Next, we hear voices telling the apparition of Tommy to take the chance and that chance is literally breaking through the barriers. Yes, everyone! Tommy Oliver is alive after being dead for six months! Right now, he went around restoring the other rangers memories and left Kim until last. We learn that upon his death, after being shot with the Chaos Crystal tipped arrow courtesy of Ranger Slayer (read GGPR Issue 12), his essence was taken outside Space-Time and literally had to watch as everything unfurled. Tommy then shows The Emissaries! The assholes who rejected Zordon’s plea for help. Much to my pleasure, as evil as it sounds, Drakkon beat up the Emissaries, but managed to escape the Grid itself and into the Nether Space where Tommy was residing. We are told Drakkon took an artefact they were protecting: the Heart of a Master and was granted the powers of a God. So, to fix everything, the Rangers need to take back the Heart.

To cut short, the Rangers managed to recover the Heart, rendering Drakkon powerless. The Emissaries open a portal for them to escape before the world Drakkon created collapsed. However, Tommy offered Drakkon a second chance, to redeem himself. Really, all he needed was a friend, but Drakkon turns him away, leaving him to die in the world he created. The Rangers find themselves in a form of the Morphing Grid, which took the form of the Command Centre. As the Emissaries explain they each have a connection to the Morphing Grid and have to RESET everything, not rebuild it and risk losing the memories of all that happened. That is when Kim learns what Jen meant: ‘You can never truly get back what you’ve lost’, it’s kind of bittersweet. Everyone learns that need to put the world back together, not for themselves, but for the ‘good of everyone’.

With that, the MMPR Rangers, Tommy, Lauren, and Jen place their hand on the Heart, not before making some closures. Jason and Lauren admit they will miss each other, after admitting their feelings. Then for the delight of the Tomberly fans, Kyle and company give us the kiss we’ve all been dying for. Tommy and Kimberly finally kiss. With that, they all access the power of the Heart, all embracing the white light.

We are then shown a small snippet of Beyond The Grid and it turns out Terra Venture, containing Grace Serling - 1969 Red MMPR Ranger, Mike Corbett - Magna Defender 2, Andros of KO-35 - Red Astro Ranger Tanya Sloan - Zeo Ranger II: Yellow, Cam Watanabe - Green Samurai Storm Ranger, Heckyll of Sentai 6 - Dinocharge Dark Ranger and Kimberly Ann Hart of Drakkon’s Universe - Ranger Slayer. They have all been casted out far from the Grid and it turns out to be a different reality. The preview closes with Grace vowing she will ‘never lose another ranger again’.

Thoughts:

Kyle Higgins and his team did it. They completed Shattered Grid, the biggest 25th Anniversary event of Power Rangers history and they ended it on a sweet and bitter ending note. I’m still laughing at the world Drakkon created, I can just feel the Superman vibe so strongly, even though he is far from the morals Clark Kent/Kal-El uphold. It’s been quite the roller coaster and is the best Power Rangers adventure I have followed. BOOM! Studios really did bring me back into my old childhood and even gave it a sense of maturity. The world building was amazing and there is so much lore to explore now. Also, we have to see what reality Grace and co. ended up after being cast out due to reality itself shattering. Beyond The Grid begins on September 26th.

Rating:

5/5. Pick it up now!

#power rangers #mmpr comic #shattered grid finale #review #long post #next stop beyond the grid!

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thxrquill · 6 years

Text

Stanley Uris hated Richie Tozier. He hated him. Every little thing about him.

He hated how his stupid curly hair fell into his face. He hated how his coke bottle glasses amplified his warm brown eyes. He hated his perfect lips that framed a mouth which never stopped talking.

But most of all, Stan hated how loving Richie was.

He hated how he would drape him self all over everyone, an arm around shoulders, feet resting on a lap. He hated how he would freely throw out crude insults and follow them up with affectionate smiles. He hated his overwhelmingly kind soul.

So really, Stanley Uris didn’t hate Richie Tozier. Stanley Uris loved Richie Tozier.

But Richie Tozier didn’t love him back.

It isn’t like Richie knew about Stan’s crush, but then again, it isn’t like Stan made it obvious. He couldn’t do that to Richie. He couldn’t do that to Eddie. It would tear the Losers apart.

Stan remembered the day they met. It was late September and they were at nursery. They had never really spoken before. Stan was usually alone, as most of the other kids didn’t understand his need for things to be a certain way. Richie tried making friends, but no one really knew how to deal with his hyperactivity and constantly running mouth. They happened to sit at the same table. Stan was colouring, all his crayons lined up in rainbow order. Richie was sat still and silent for once, sad at his futile attempts of making friends.

“You’re quiet.” Stan had spoken up. Richie looked up at him, an expression of confusion lingering on his features. “You’re never quiet. Are you okay?”

Stan could remember the way Richie had sighed, resting his elbow on the table and placing his cheek in the palm of his hand. “Nobody wants to be my friend.” Richie had said, voice almost a whisper.

“I’ll be your friend if you like.” Stan had replied. Richie’s face immediately lit up.

“Really?!” Richie near-yelled, voice filled with excitement. Stan just nodded, handing Richie a piece of paper and a crayon.

Richie started asking about Stan’s Kippah, back to his usual talkative self.

They were inseparable from that day forward.

That is, until Pennywise happened.

It all happened so fast that Stan could only remember snippets. But at the same time, he felt like he could never forget. He could quite clearly remember the day that he nearly lost 3 of his best friends to 29 Neibolt Street and that godforsaken clown. He remembered how Richie had clung to Eddie, trying to get him to look him in the eyes, as the clown stalked towards them, claws raised. He remembered how Eddie’s mom had forbidden him from seeing them after she blamed them for the boy’s broken arm. He remembered how he and Mike had to restrain Richie after Bill had punched him in the face.

He remembered his Bar Mitzvah. He remembered how he had invited all of his friends but only one bothered to show up. Eddie’s mom had refused to let the boy leave his house. Mike couldn’t get away from the farm, his grandfather needed him to work. Ben’s invite had been intercepted by Henry Bowers and what was left of his gang. Beverly’s dad had an even tighter hold on her. And Bill, he refused to be in the same room as Richie. Of course, the only two reasons Stan new of were Bill and Eddie’s, he figured the rest of the gang had forgotten about it. Richie was the only one to show. He stayed quiet the entire time, and didn’t fidget once. Though he did throw a reassuring thumbs up to Stan, every once in a while, as he read from the Torah.

That was the day he realised he was a little bit in love with Richie Tozier.

He could also remember the day the Losers climbed down that well. He remembered how one moment he was with his friends, and the next, he was alone, with nobody in sight. He could remember the feeling of the Flute Lady biting down on his face, the way her teeth sunk into his flesh. He could remember the way his friends clung onto him after, assuring him that they never left him. He could see Richie willing himself not to cry.

After they had defeated Pennywise, and Beverly had moved to live in Portland with her aunt, Stan started to see Richie act differently. He hadn’t completely changed. But the other Loser’s didn’t seem to notice. Stan, having known Richie the longest, could tell when he was acting differently. He could see Richie staring longingly at Eddie, their touches lingering, their smiles loving and warm. Richie still constantly made crude jokes about Eddie’s mom, but he always followed them up with a sincere apology. Stan decided to ask Richie what was up, he had his suspicions, but he wanted confirmation that he was right.

He asked Richie after school one day when they were 15. They were waiting by the bike rack for the other Losers. “Richie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure Stan the Man, what’s up?” Richie said with a smile.

“Do you like Eddie?”

“I’m not sure what you mean Staniel..?”

“Do you like him? As in more than a friend?” The smile fell from Richie’s face.

“So what if I did?” Richie said defensively.

“It’s not a problem or anything! I just wanted to know.”

Richie blushed. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Oh,” Stan looked down at his shoes, fighting back tears. “Well, umm, you should ask him out. I’m pretty sure he likes you back.”

“Really?!” Richie grinned in excitement. “Thanks, Stan the Man! You’re the best!”

At the moment, the rest of the Losers walked over, and Richie slung his arm round Eddie’s shoulders. Stan made up an excuse before climbing on his bike and racing away.

Stan found himself jealous of Eddie. He told himself constantly that he didn’t have the right to jealousy, as he had convinced Richie to ask Eddie out. It had been two years, and Richie and Eddie had been dating that whole time. Stan often found himself wishing for them to fight and break up, but he knew that was wrong, he should be happy for his friends.

But he just couldn’t be happy around them.

Stan would always be staring at the way Richie wrapped his arm around Eddie’s waist, or rested his chin on Eddie’s head. And he wished it was him. He saw the way Richie’s entire face would light up when Eddie made him laugh. He wished it was him making Richie laugh. He saw the way Richie whispered into Eddie’s ear, making him giggle and blush. He wished Richie was whispering into his ear. He noticed the day Richie and Eddie showed up at school together, Eddie smirking, and hickeys poking out of Richie’s collar. He wished he had left those.

It all became too much sometimes, and Stan blew off plans with the Losers when Richie and Eddie were involved. The problem however, was that Bill had noticed.

“Stan, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure, Bill, what’s up?”

“What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting different.” Then it seemed to click in Bill’s brain. “You like Richie.”

“What? No, I really don’t” This conversation was starting to remind Stan of the one he’d had with Richie two years ago.

“It’s okay, I get it.” Stan looked at him with a confused expression. “Really, I do.”

Stan gasped. “Eddie?” Bill nodded. Stan walked forwards and pulled Bill into a hug. They pulled away after a few moments. “I guess we’re just two unlucky idiots, aren’t we.” Bill just laughed.

Over the next few months Bill and Stan spent more time alone with each other. They talked about the cute things their unrequited crushes did, and watched cheesy films. They had, admittedly, grown closer, but not quite as close as they’d have liked. They kissed once, to see if they felt anything. They didn’t, so they just stayed friends, and continued pining.

Until Stan was confronted by Richie.

“Stan?” Richie asked him one night. He had climbed through Stan’s window, after a particularly bad fight with his parents. Why Stan’s window? Because Eddie was out of town. Stan resented Richie slightly for that, it was like a blow to his heart.

“Yeah?” Stan replied, mid sip of water, book resting open on his lap.

“Are you and Bill dating?” Stan nearly spat out hit water.

“What? No! No, definitely not!”

“Oh, okay.” Richie paused, fiddling with his hands. “Then is there something wrong?”

Stan sighed, closing his book. “No, Richie, there’s nothing wrong.”

“Are you sure? Because I feel like I’ve done something. You never talk to me any more Stanny.”

Stan stared down at his lap. “I promise I’m okay.” Stan couldn’t stop the way his voice broke on the last word.

“You’re lying. Stan, please, just tell me the truth.” Richie sat next to Stan on the bed.

Tears were rolling down Stan’s cheeks. “I can’t tell you.”

Richie wrapped his arm around Stan’s shoulder. “Why not?” His voice was almost a whisper.

“Because you’ll hate me.” It was then that Stan decided to look Richie in the eyes.

“Stanley Uris, I could never hate you.” He paused. “Please.” Stan stood up and moved over to the window, looking out into the night.

“I’m jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Eddie.”

“Eddie? Why are you jealous of Eddie?”

Stan sighed. “Because Eddie has you.” He turned to look at Richie, tears glistening on his cheeks.

“Oh, I get it.” Richie seemed to sigh in relief. “You think I’m spending too much time with him and not enough time with you, my best friend!”

“No, Richie! That’s not it!” Stan shouted. Richie looked taken aback by the volume of Stan’s voice.

“Then what?”

“I’m in love with you! Okay? I’ve been in love with you since we were thirteen fucking years old. That’s it. That’s whats wrong.”

Richie was silent. For what felt like the first time in all his seventeen years of life. Then, Stan broke down, full out sobbing.

“Oh, Stan,” Richie sighed. “I’m sorry but you kno-”

“Yeah, I know. You love Eddie. Richie, of course I know that! I convinced you to ask him out for God’s sake. I know that you don’t love me back, and that you never will. And, I guess, that’s okay. I’ve had loads of time to deal with this, I’ll get over it. The thing is, I don’t want to lose you, yet I can’t be in the same room as you without feeling like my heart is going to explode out of my chest.”

Richie was crying now, silent tears falling down his cheeks.

“I think its best for both of us if we don’t hang out with each other anymore.” Stan choked out, looking anywhere but Richie, who was desperately trying to catch his eye.

“Stan, no.”

“Please, just leave, Richie.” Stan moved away from the window, and with reluctance Richie climbed out, giving one last look to Stan. As soon as he heard the window shut, Stan rushed to the phone, calling Bill as tears drenched his cheeks once more.

About ten minutes later, Bill was climbing through his window and pulling Stan into his arms.

Oh, how much easier would it be if Stanley Uris loved Bill Denbrough instead of Richie Tozier..?

Ahhhhhhhhhh this was depressing as fuck to write.

I might extend it into a longer fic but idk yet...

Taglist:

@pastelstanuris @childishsoup @supportingstanuris

#richiefics #stan uris #richie tozier #stozier #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #reddie

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derryhawkins · 6 years

Text

The Switch (ch 3)

summary: Mike and Richie, a pair of twins people describe as a loose canon when their together, come up with possibly the worst idea they could ever come up with – switching lives and personalities. Mike lives Richie’s life in Derry, Maine while Richie lives Mike’s life in Hawkins, Indiana. Their idea could either miraculously work out, or burn down in flames. (see moodboard & small snippet here)

a/n: i don’t think I’ve mentioned it but this takes place in the 80s; end of ‘86 start of ‘87.

warnings: [for the entire fic] swearing, idiotic boys, child neglect, accidental heartbreak, teenagers being teenagers, angst at some point. [for this chapter] rich sees a clown doll and almost has a panic attack at the end

chapter 1 chapter 2

ch 3 -- working out the kinks

Making plans to do something or ideas that aren’t so simple, come with bumps and halts and things that cause a bit of trouble along the way. Mike Wheeler and Richie Tozier figured that out quite quickly. Their plan to switch lives, basically, wasn’t as full proof as either had thought. There were multiple things that could cause anyone to instantly take notice it was Richie and not Mike, or vice versa.

They had made a list on what distinguishes themselves from one another. Well, Richie made it after realizing that The Switch (the name of their plan, he doesn’t care if Mike doesn’t like it) was going to be a tougher thing to accomplish than he first thought. It was a rather short list, just eight seven things that could cause anyone of their friends or family members to say, “You’re not Mike/Richie.” After finished it, he handed it to Mike who read over it.

KINKY KINKS IN ‘THE SWITCH’ a list by Richie Tozier ;)) 1. Glasses. 2. Hair. 3. Clothes. 4. Jane El Hopper. 5. Humor/the way we talk. 6. Jobs, maybe? (sorry bro, I work at a movie theater) 7. Our friends.

There was a eighth number, Mike realized as he read over the list. It was scratched out completely; one word right beside the number eight. Mike squinted at it as if it would help him read through the scratched out word, but it was no use. Because not only had Richie scribbled over it, but he had marked through the word with a Sharpie on both sides of the paper. Mike frowned and looked out of the bedroom where Richie had rushed out minutes before. He stood up from the desk in his room and walked out to find his twin, the paper in his hands.

Mike ended up finding Richie in Holly’s room. Richie had squeezed into a pink, tiny plastic chair and had his legs bent between him and the table he was unable to fit them under. A small light blue plate and tea cup sat on his knees while Holly pretended to talk to one of the bears. It was clear the foul mouthed twin had been caught by Holly Wheeler and unable to get away. Before Holly could see him as well and rope him into ‘tea time’ with her stuffed animals and plastic dolls and his twin, Mike dashed back to his room, leaving Richie to suffer alone.

Sure, he was curious about what the seventh thing was on the list -- but not curious enough to get roped into his little sister’s tea time.

Eventually, they figured out how to solved numbers 1-3 once Richie had gotten away from Holly and once they weren’t around anyone else. The party had come over for a short time, and then they all piled into Dustin’s truck and headed to Will’s house to hang out some before more family members came around for the holidays. Joyce Byers was so excited to see Richie, engulfing the boy in a tight hug as she admitted to missing him.

(It was a hug Richie liked to call the Mom Hug. It was warm and comforting and something he was almost unfamiliar with since Maggie Tozier never hugged him, and Karen Wheeler merely gave him loose, short hugs).

At some point they finally got home and finally sorted out that for the first thing on the list, Mike just wouldn’t wear his contacts. They both had shit eyesight. They both had glasses and eye contact prescriptions as well, but Richie almost always wore his glasses and Mike almost always wore his contacts. It was a way for everyone to tell them apart. To make sure they still had the same terrible eye sight, Mike took out the contacts and put on Richie’s awful glasses.

“Unfortunately, we still have the same shitty sight.”

“You’re gonna have to wear those.”

“That’s why I said unfortunately. At least my glasses are decent looking.”

“They’re still fucking huge...”

“If you make a dick joke, I’m disowning you.”

For the their hair, Mike had to not straighten his hair. Yes, Michael Wheeler straightens his hair nearly everyday and has been since seventh grade. It was neater looking and tamer; it was also another way people could tell the twins apart. Richie, on the other hand, had to make an extra effort everyday to straighten his hair. He complained just thinking about it.

“Some waves come out anyway, why fucking bother?!”

“Richie, I swear to God, if you want this to work you gotta use the damn straightener.”

Their clothing was something much simpler and took little to no effort to change -- they just had to switch wardrobes. Which meant, Richie would stay at the Wheeler house in Hawkins while Mike left for Derry with Maggie Tozier and a suitcase of ugly Hawaiian shirts and graphic tees. Neither were really complaining. It wasn’t like either of their style was horrible. Well, Richie’s choice of shirts could be sometimes, but so could the sweaters Mike wears on the occasion.

Richie really wanted to be a hater of Mike’s ugly Christmas sweaters, but he was actually rather jealous. The sweaters were ugly as hell, and he wanted them all. Mike didn’t really mind his brother’s hideous Hawaiian shirts and sometimes crude t-shirts, either. Most of them were comfortable to wear.

(No, they don’t already have a small stash of each other’s clothes because of that).

(...that’s a lie).

“So, about Miss Jane El Hopper,” Richie spoke as he entered the nearly empty kitchen. Nancy was out with her boyfriend, Jonathan Byers, while their dad went to work and Karen went to the park with Holly; Maggie was doing some last minute shopping. So, they were home alone and free to talk about their plan up until one of the Party members comes over -- if not all. They had all been informed that no one but the twins were currently home.

Mike didn’t even look up from making his lunch as he said, “You’re not kissing my girlfriend, Tozier.”

“But if I don’t it’ll blow our cover! A major kink in The Switch, Wheeler,” he said. As his brother turned around to put up the sandwich ingredients, Richie reached over the counter and grabbed the cheese and ham sandwich. He quickly took a bite of it before laying it back on the plate, and acted as if he did nothing wrong as Mike turned back around.

“Make your own damn sandwich, asshole,” Mike quickly said and snatched the plate off of the counter. He inspected the rather large bite Richie had taken as he said, “Let’s get her in on the plan.”

“Can she keep secrets?”

“She’s a girl with secret abilities that Hawkins has no idea about.”

Richie hummed and nodded. “Touché.”

“What about your crush?” Mike asked after a second of silence.

Richie’s eyes slightly narrowed as he stood straight. “What about my crush?” He asked, moving away from the counter to fridge. As Mike spoke again, he searched for something to eat.

“Pretty sure you probably flirt with her if you genuinely like her. So... Who is it? I mean, if I don’t flirt as you to your crush, then it’ll be a give away, too. Or show that you’re not interested.”

He picked up a pudding cup from one of the shelves but quickly set it back down. Richie’s fingers tapped against his thighs as he stood there, just looking into the refrigerator. “Um... It’s no one,” he quickly said. He then spotted a pomegranate in the back of the middle shelf and grinned to himself before reaching in and grabbing it.

Mike scoffed at the answer. “Okay, yeah, that’s a lie.”

Shutting the door with his foot, Richie went and grabbed a sharp knife. He instantly busied himself with the fruit as he said, “My crush wasn’t on the list, so, really, it doesn’t matter.”

“Do you not want me to know who it is or something?” Mike asked, before taking a large bite from his sandwich. Uncharacteristically, Richie stayed quiet and focused all his attention on the pomegranate as he cut it open. Mike sighed right as the front door opened.

“Dustin farted! Dustin farted!”

“That was Max!”

“Don’t bring me into this, Noodles!”

“Hey! That is Richie’s name for me!”

“Dustin farted and he has a guy crush on Rich!”

“Oh, not you too!”

“Well, who can resist the Richie Tozier?” The younger twin smirked as the group of friends entered the kitchen; Lucas, Max, Dustin, and Will. As he made eye contact with Max, he winked at her. The redhead just scoffed and rolled her eyes as she went over to Mike and stole his sandwich. She took a bite before handing it back to him.

“I can,” she said.

Lucas chuckled and let an arm go around her shoulders as they stood beside each other. “Don’t wink at my girlfriend, Richie,” he said.

“Rather me wink at you?”

“Beep beep, Richie!” Mike laughed out at seeing Lucas’ face. It was a saying he heard Richie’s own friends use, so Mike started using it, too. It was limited to him and who Richie called the Losers. No one else really used the ‘beep beep’ other than them; occasionally Will would say it, or Nancy if needed, but that was all. Never did Max, Lucas, Dustin, or Eleven say it.

Richie merely grinned as Lucas shot him the middle.

“Hey, where’s El?” Mike asked.

“Oh! She told me to tell you that she’s having a father-daughter day with Hopper,” Will said. “And tonight she’s doing something with Mom, but said she’d call you in the morning.”

“That’s good,” Mike said sincerely. Jim and El haven’t gotten to have some father-daughter time because of school and his job recently, so Mike was happy they were spending time together. And Joyce Byers and El had a thing on certain nights where the woman taught the girl different things like knitting, or just watched soap operas. “That’s good,” he repeated, but quieter.

For a few minutes, the group just stood in the kitchen as everyone helped themselves to different snacks before they all made their way downstairs to the basement. Richie was still working on the pomegranate, though, so he put the fruit in a bowl and grabbed some napkins, and slouched on the couch with Max as the other boys sat at the table. Though, at some point, Richie spotted one of Holly’s clown dolls sticking out of the blanket fort against the wall. He nearly shit his pants at seeing face of the clown, also letting out a short yell before realizing it was fucking doll.

It wasn’t alive.

Max looked up at Richie, bewildered. “The hell, man?” She asked.

Mike whipped his head around to look at his brother, and the three others did the same. “Dude, what...” The question died on his lips, though, as he notice the clown doll. He instantly remembered what had happened that one summer with Richie and his friends; Richie had called him after it happened and just cried to him. Mike instantly jumped out of his seat and grabbed the doll from the fort; Holly shouldn’t have been in there in the first place.

“It’s just a doll,” Lucas said.

“Hey, clowns are creepy,” Dustin stated as Mike rushed up the stairs to put the doll back in Holly’s room. “The makeup is...”

Richie blocked out their conversation as he tried to ignore the memories of that one awful summer. He couldn’t, unfortunately, and it soon started to get too much, so he gave the bowl of pomegranate to Max and raced up the stairs as well. He ran into his brother at the top, who instantly saw the panicked look and slightly shallowed breathing. Richie felt himself be pulled into a loose but comforting hug.

“It was just a doll, Rich,” Mike whispered.

“You’re real, right?” Richie asked in return. “You’re not gonna turn into some fucking werewolf or...you know?”

“No. I’m very real. I’m very much Mike Wheeler, okay? I’m with you and always will be, Richie.”

Richie numbly nodded and hugged his brother back. He was quiet for some time before he asked, “Who the hell gave Holly that fucking doll?”

“One of our aunts, I think, on her birthday.”

“I wanna burn it.”

“Honestly, she hates it. She might let you.”

“Good.”

“You okay now?” Mike asked pulled away from the hug some time later -- a few minutes at least. He watched as Richie ran his hands over his face, glasses on his head, and nodded. “Alright,” he whispered. “I’m going back down, but call Bill or one of them if you need to.”

After fixing his glasses, Richie nodded and gave a small smile. “Think I might. Thanks,” he said.

“Hey, not a problem,” Mike shrugged and started down the stairs. “Come back down when you’re ready.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Richie found the nearest phone and dialed the familiar number of Mike Hanlon. It turned out that the Losers had gathered at his place, all together once again, so Richie took turns talking to all of them about different things until he remembered his pomegranate with Max. Shortly after that, he finished his conversation with Stan Uris, hung up the phone, and raced down stairs back to his fruit.

TAG LIST: @irredecent @vimra @jinglejamie

#it #it (2017)#stranger things #st #s2 #s1 #mike wheeler #richie tozier #twin au #h writes #the party #the losers club #mileven #the switch

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velcro-rave · 7 years

Text

post-emoji movie Trauma

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers and can be considered disturbing to some readers. especially my brain, because it’s leaking out my ears after typing this.

This is the first movie ever I’ve gone to see on opening night. And let me just say that, for the record, I’m glad I went to watch with friends. Without them, I would have most likely calmly exited the room, climbed up to the roof, and dived straight off.

I’m honestly fucking terrified of how much this shitty movie has pushed me to the edge. I’ve never felt more ANGRY in my life and at the same time wanted to just curl up in a ball and cry myself to sleep. This is so fucked up. What made it possible for this level of psychological warfare to be used so casually by Sony? Why did they decide this was ever a good idea to present to the public? I’m still shaking (and not from the overpriced Coca-Cola I was sold). Whether it’s out of rage or fear, I don’t know. Not even throwing myself into the deep fires of hell can attempt to restore the intrinsic warmth I felt before I witnessed this crime of a movie. They say that there’s a special place reserved below for people who cause enough pain to humanity, and it is at this point where I pose this question to the following:

Tony Leondis. Eric Siegel. Mike White. Michelle Raimo Kouyate.

Why?

Did you want this to happen to me? Was this the plan all along? To destroy everything you could possibly love in the process of creating this film, to make the audience suffer without any remorse? You got PATRICK FUCKING STEWART as a voice actor, and what is it you do?

Yeah, you make him play A WALKING PILE OF SHIT!!!!

Someone could’ve ran up to me after I left the theater, put a shotgun directly up to my forehead, pulled the trigger, and that would have still not come close to how much my mind had been blown at the shocking reality that this movie, this spawn, could exist in the known universe and continue to be shown to innocent people. There were kids there. Hopeful, happy, young kids with iPhones who thought it was a great idea to head off to the movies and watch a funny relatable movie about emojis without a care in the world. Communicating ideas without the use of words is the “staple” of their generation, as the movie so proudly portrays (even comparing it to ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics!), and there’s no reason a family shouldn’t agree to bring their children to this beautiful, heartwarming adventure, right? WRONG.

Nothing could have prepared me for the horrific amount of groan-worthy jokes this movie tossed out. I’ve been wracking my brain for an entire hour trying to remember the most potent ones, but they were so easily forgettable that I can only recall a few offhand. They were tragic. Whenever an opportunity for a shitty pun showed itself, you can bet your ass the writers took it and ran with it to lengths beyond the realms of humor. From the character known as Hi-5′s nonchalant Bye Felicia! to his two puns about snapping (as if one wasn’t enough), I wanted to get up and scream at the ceiling in the hopes that my cries of agony would disrupt the structural integrity of the building and have it fall on top of me, finally freeing me from the slow-cooker of torture that is The Emoji Movie.

At a certain point, Hi-5 (by the way James Corden, I thought you were cool. I thought you were here for us, for all of us as an entertainer, but you just had to take part in ruining me and the world as we know it by accepting this role. I will never forgive you.) mentions something about his heart beating. His… heart? This walking, talking hand has a heart? Does he have lungs? What other internal organs could fit in there and be capable of being slapped around constantly as a result of his stupid ass decisions? Why doesn’t he have arms like Gene or Jailbreak, does his body somehow take into account that he’s already a living appendage? This movie is making me sit and contemplate the anatomy of a fucking animated HAND, and that’s not even as preposterous as a thought can get while watching.

On multiple occasions throughout my viewing experience, I had to take a break to just lean back and sigh, both in anguish of what was happening onscreen as well as the sheer exhausting aspect of it all. The voice acting couldn’t have been more unreliable. Every other line it was a gamble between it being a poorly executed pun delivered so flatly that not even the 4-year old up front let out a little giggle, an obvious statement about what they’re planning to do next, or the most unremarkable snippet of backstory ever revealed. I’m sure all those scenes between Gene and Jailbreak where they gaze at each other were meant to be construed as romantic, but her blasé response to each of his approaches because she “isn’t some princess waiting for her prince” or how “women are deserving of more respect” completely knocked the mood off whatever pedestal it was stepping up to. I get it, these are actual important themes that need to be recognized, and I would be more than happy to see this acknowledged in a movie built on as many metaphors as Zootopia, but the timing of her commentary was the worst I’d ever seen. The constant interruptions made it seem like her words shouldn’t be taken seriously at all!

Unsurprisingly, character background was virtually (unintentional pun. I’m incredibly sorry.) nonexistent, and everything that’s possible to be wondered about the universe could pretty much be answered with a big shrug. For example, why does Hi-5 have a band-aid? Did he get stabbed or something? When did Gene begin to show signs that he was capable of other emotions? Was the Just Dance girl deleted after the trash bin emptied itself out? We didn’t see any signs of the characters going back for her after Hi-5 had to shake off the troll, so did they just leave her there to die? If Jailbreak had been working for a long time to get out, why didn’t she use more of her hacking skills? She pulled up her hologram window things maybe three times total to escape or hide somewhere, does she seriously not have anything else in her repertoire that could potentially help Gene and Hi-5 get to where they need to be quicker? There’s so many questions that don’t even get passively explained. Then again, I’m arguing against the same people who genuinely advocated for the setting to be called Textopolis.

AND WHOSE FUCKING IDEA WAS IT TO MAKE THE MAIN CHARACTER “MEH”??

The ONE emoji with zero interesting qualities and the most monotone parents that, for some fucking batshit insane reason, were given more than the minute of screentime they deserved. I understand for a quick gag, their emotionless response to everything could be funny, but their conversations would just stretch on and on and on. As for Gene, I trusted you, T.J. Miller. I can’t believe you betrayed me, especially after such a hilariously perfect role in Deadpool. Never in my life have I felt so disappointed in a single person. There is no justifiable reason for you to be proud of what you’ve done here. To be honest, I’m pretty sure I astral projected at least three times as I struggled to repress the memory of this trainwreck before it even ended. When I wasn’t desperately clawing at the armrests mid-convulsion, I was staring vacantly at the center of the screen, wondering how this week could have gone so wrong.

This was basically a 91-minute long advertisement. The whiplash of traveling between product placement to product placement nearly made me throw up, which was ostensibly the only thing that could’ve made this worse. Dropbox, Spotify, Candy Crush, Just Dance, YouTube, Facebook, and the almighty Twitter, I hope you’re happy with what you’ve wrought. The “emoji-pop” dance assaulted my eyes so suddenly, acting as the unnecessary cherry on top of the feel-good ending; I think that’s when I officially lost all hope in enjoying the rest of my night.

It’s honestly taking every ounce of my being to hold onto the little bit of life that I have after the Emoji Movie ripped my soul to shreds. The amount of violation I felt as my ears were subjected to endless pop culture references that were relevant years ago, nightmarish depictions of the content of each app on Alex’s phone, and the fact that the god damn Eggplant was in the Unused Emojis room when everyone knows that’s not the case is indescribable. I now have to live with the fact that every time I switch keyboards on my phone, those blank yellow faces will serve as a dark reminder of what I’ve gone through. To any of you reading this that have also watched The Emoji Movie, I am so sorry. I know how difficult it is to process. My recommendation to each and every one of you who haven’t had the chance to witness this sickening spectacle is to KEEP IT THAT WAY. Don’t give in to the peer pressure; this abomination parading itself around as an endearing motion picture will wholly and truly rattle you to the core. My only solace was the complete absence of dabbing or whipping (apart from hearing the song), and I’d like to thank every deity above and below for that small act of mercy.

Here’s to you, Sony. Thanks for ensuring that I not only sink deeper into my depression, but for forcing my mind to house the images I’ve seen today for as long as I live. I wish I could physically bring myself to chuck my phone in a garbage fire, but my entire body has gone numb. Here’s to you, and to all the writers, producers, and directors of this movie that made me sit in a corner pondering how I can possibly live in a future where this monstrosity exists.

Gravely, sincerely,

fuck you, and goodnight.

🖕

#long post #rant #p #the emoji movie #emoji movie #FUUCKKKKKK.#I feel like banging my head against the wall until I pass out #food mention #I would appreciate it if any of you could recommend a good therapist #god knows I need the help #goodnight #2017 #tumblr keeps getting rid of readmores i'm really sorry if this takes up your dash

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mrwrightcool · 7 years

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I read somewhere mike met Brittney in 2006 when she was a waitress at a sushi restaurant and they became instant friends but mike always had a crush on Brittney she was only like 24 around that time and mike was in his mid 30s lol, then he proposed to her in 2007 but they didn’t get married till 2009 but they did have Brixton in between their engagement and actual wedding.

Hostess, I think? Yup, I’ve read all the same stuff. However, I start getting weirded out when I talk about Adie, Sara and Brittney. I don’t want to turn this into gossip because I adore all three of them BUT I know nothing about them really other than the snippets I see on IG or through the band. They love our boys, our boys love them and they are considerate enough to share time with them with us. Feel free to hit me up privately anon, and we can chat.

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sharonisantisocialimagines · 7 years

Text

I Am Human - Part II

Pairing: Jared x reader Summary: He’s one of the two main actors. He’s 28, sexy, charming and funny. She’s the new girl on set. The new assistent from a foreign country. And she is only 20 years old. She is also the one who stole his heart in milliseconds, just by being herself. Jared Padalecki and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) are what you like to call starcrossed lovers, two fitting pieces of a puzzle. But we all know love is not easy. So what happens if their age difference becomes a problem? Can (Y/N) keep working for Jared when feelings get involved? And what secret is she hiding from him? Warning: None

Prologue / Part 1

It was quite unbelievable how fast time passed if you enjoy your job and the people you work with. The first month of (Y/N) new occupation had already passed, and so far, she couldn’t imagine a better job.

Well, she could, but she knew her chances were extremely low.

She hadn’t told anyone on set yet what her real dream was, too afraid someone could find her blog on the internet. (Y/N) was a passionate writer, and has been working on her first book for about six months now. She posted poems, short stories and other snippets on the internet, using a fake name so nobody would recognize her. It was her dream to bring out a book and be able to live off of her writing. But chances for this are small - they are limited and big success was rare these days.

It didn’t stop her from trying, though.

The small group of friends was on its way to a bar as Jensen first notices his co-stars smile whenever (Y/N) talked or was mentioned in their conversation. Emily was driving the car with her new friend in the passenger seat as the actors hid in the backseat with the tinted windows. Em followed the silver volvo in front of her, where Mike and two other Make Up Artists lead the way to a bar.

The Supernatural Crew had finished filming their 35th episode today and were ready for a few drinks. (Y/N) was not really a fan of bar’s, or clubs - basically of nothing with loud music and huge amounts of alcohol, but she couldn’t say no as Jared asked her.

It was still early in the evening as they arrived, but they still couldn’t find a parking space. They had to walk a few minutes in the cold weather, with Emily and (Y/N) sharing the one pair of gloves they had.

“No, you’ll rip them! Here, try it like this!”

(Y/N) was almost unable to follow her instructions due to her laughing. She couldn’t imagine how stupid they must look to the others, wringing their hands together in the gloves so neither of them had to freeze.

“Guys, it’s like one more minute!”

Jared laughed as he looked over his shoulder. Easy for him to say with his long legs. He shook his head, grinning as the girls ignored him and almost stumbled over a trash can.

The bar ended up being not as crowded as expected, and the group soon found a table in the far corner of the room. The men went to get everyone their drinks as the girls stayed at the table. Emily introduced (Y/N) to the other two ladies that worked in Make Up, and they instantly chatted away with her.

“Em, tell me, how’s it going with that guy? Bran, right?”

One of the girls asked and Emily blushed lightly, though her face looked sad.

“Well, it was going fine till about a few days ago... He stopped texting and when I asked what happend he just said he was ill and slept alot...”

“Who slept alot?”

Jensen asked as he and the other men returned to the table. Happily, Mike also drank only a coke, so (Y/N) didn’t stand out. She hated the taste of alcohol.

“Bran... he stopped texting. I don’t really know what to do now...”

Emily replied and they all grinned knowingly at her. Emily couldn’t keep things to herself, she could talk all day if someone would let her.

“Well, screw him. That’s a lame excuse, if you like someone you don’t stop texting because your ill.”

(Y/N) voice sounded almost angry, and the girls looked surprised.

“What? Been there, done that. The boy’s lying. Sorry Emily... The boy’s got no balls to tell you the truth... You deserve better.”

Everyone agreed with the newbie and the boys made it their mission to make Emily smile again. It only took a few minutes and her bubbly personality was back. Everyone kept talking and joking with each other quietly. It's not that the boys got recognized all the time or that Paparazzi followed them, but who knows who still recognizes the Winchester-Actors and listens to them gossiping about the newest episode.

"-JDM will be back on set for it and we'll-"

Jared's voice was cut short as right next to their table a young waitress dropped her tablet and attempted to kiss the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw one of the girls from the table next to them hide her long leg under the table. She snickered behind her hand, giving her friends an amused look. They all giggled and pointed to the girl on the floor.

"Wait, I'll help you."

The words were out of (Y/N) mouth before she even realised them. She stood from the table and crouched down, carefully grabbing some of the broken glass pieces and putting them back on the tablet. The waitress shyly stuck a strand of her beauiful red hair behind her ear, raising her red face. How dare these girls embarrass someone like that!

She murmured a silent ‘thank you’ and within a few seconds the glass was collected and the waitress wiped the floor with a towel. The girls from the other table were now laughing at (Y/N) too, whispering about how she poorly helped their victim. (Y/N) stood back up with a fierce expression on her face.

"You girls think you are funny, don't you? Sticking your leg out so the waitress that carries a tray full of your drinks falls in front of the whole bar? Get your asses back to Kindergarten and leave us adults alone to enjoy our end of work beer."

The bar got once again quiet and now stared at (Y/N). The girl ignored everyone and sat back down at her table, taking a big gulp of her coke. She never noticed the stunned expression of her friends or how the waitress dumped the tray of broken glass on the girls table. They awkwardly got up and threw some money on the table, but they wouldn't get away so easily.

"Make sure to leave a good tip for the broken glasses!"

Emily yells at them and grins proudly at her friend.

“Alright, this is my cue to leave. Before I too get called out!”

Grinned Mike and (Y/N) blushed. In situations like this, she forgot how shy she actually was. She would never purposly speak up in front of so many people, but if someone got bullied or hurt, she couldn’t hold back. Her emotions always went over the top in situations like this.

Jensen and one of the Make-Up Ladies joined Mike and grabbed their coats. It was already past ten and some had a longer way home than (Y/N) or Emily did. The longer the night, the more people left and in the end, it was only (Y/N) and Jared left at the huge table. Their drinks were long empty, but neither of them got the idea to move.

“No, I’m serious! He just slipped and fell!”

Jared’s deep and hoarse laughter was so contagious, (Y/N) couldn’t stop laughing. His eyes twinkled happily at her smile and he couldn’t help feeling proud to make her laugh like this. She flipped her long hair away from her face and his fingers itched to card through them. He couldn’t deny his crush any longer, so he decided to enjoy his time here with her.

She forgot completely who she was talking to and they soon ended up competing who had the more embarrassing story. They talked on for what felt like hours, and only due to a text Jared got from Jensen they realized they had to head home, too.

As she walked out of the bar, his eyes flicked to her long legs, half of them which were covered in brown boots. Her ass lightly swayed from side to side and Jared swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t think like this. In the end, (Y/N) still worked for him.

“You coming?”

The smile she sent him in that moment was enough to stop his mind from working properly. He wanted to save this smile for rainy nights and stressful days; he wanted to make sure this smile stayed on her face forever.

He wanted to be the reason for that smile.

Read my Jensen Story ‘here’

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