#it shows exactly how much dennis is loved. and all that on top of the fact that he has never been given gifts selflessly

[dennisboobs]

ALSO for me sorry controversial opinion but im glad mac got dennis the rpg specifically NO HATE!!!!!! but 2 me its not JUST a joke abt dennis loving violent things its about a tool of destruction turned into a gesture of love its about dennis holding something designed to obliterate so tenderly. its about them going down to shoot the gun together in s1e5 its about mac letting dennis reload it for him because he likes the sound. its about the fact that mac had to dig through the dark web to find it. its about getting something violent on purpose, a thin veil of masculinity over what is so clearly an act of unabashed devotion. its about the fact that the rocket didnt come and neither of them can use it and its about the fact that dennis doesnt care. its not about being useful. its about mac using it to destroy dennis car when he leaves because when dennis left he destroyed their home. its about weaponizing acts of love.

[love-letters-for-wise]

I Want Movie, Not Feelings! (Wise x gn!reader)

[ no beta we die like Ethereals | OOC possibility ]

It was no secret that the Random Play siblings were quite the hustle-bustle. Apart from managing the video store, to a few, they also take "special" commissions to guide people at the Hollows. Not only that, being proxies, they had to keep their true identities a secret from parties seeking to unveil them. Though some, a select few people, were aware of the siblings' double lives.

One of the few people was you. Circumstances led you to discover the people behind Phaethon, and since today, you had been bound by a contract that wouldn't let you sell them out. No matter how high the price offered by desiring shadows.

Hence why, you did the second thing you could do best; befriending them! If you couldn't make them your enemies, then you would try to gain their favorability--maybe you could extract a favor or two from them.

That afternoon, you stopped by Random Play, wanting to browse what movie to play later in your homely, well-deserved movie night. The flyer of the memory-erasing pen you got from the technology store a few blocks away shoved down your purse. A silly machine, too expensive for you to want it. The sound of your arrival alerted the person in charge, prompting a "Welcome to Random Play" from behind a rack. A head popped from the side.

"Oh, it's you." Wise's voice sounded a bit guarded no matter how many times you had gone here, but he was quick to put up the professionalism. "Any movie you're looking for today?"

You hoped you could show a bewilderment, but his cynical--you meant--caution did deserve praise sometimes. Your eyes wandered around before settling on his form. "Yeah, I'm looking for something to eat my dinner with. Got any nasty murder documentaries with you?"

Wise was for sure weirded. You caught how his eyebrows slightly furrowed, it didn't help too that his eyebags seemed to enhance that emotion, before guiding you to a rack.

"We have..." Wise's fingers hovered in the air before settling on a video cover. "Don't Fuck with Bangboos," and those fingers began to slide as he listed all the titles on that one row. Just four movies there.

"Huh. And here I thought there would be more variety." Your eyes settled on Wise, the accusation clear knowing how much Wise loved documentaries. You were responded with a sigh.

"Unfortunately, documentaries-lovers, me included, would rather see things they can be grateful of--we have enough 'loss' already."

"Doesn't mean you can't have more of the darker documentaries."

"Never said that; I'm just saying there isn't enough demand for them." His eyebrows furrowed once more. He looked old.

"You really gotta stop trying to merge your eyebrows" Now it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. Your face quickly relaxed while throwing him a grin, though. "Lest you want wrinkles at your age."

Wise's eyebrows slowly relaxed, staring at you with a passive look.

"There. Much better!" You huffed a wider grin. "Now, with what should you service your customer?"

Reluctantly, a smile formed on Wise's face. Shit, he looks cute. You mentally punched yourself for that.

"O-okay! Good!" Did you just stutter? "I'll be taking 'Don't Fuck with Bangboos', then! S-shall we go to the cashier?" A high-pitched voice.

Okay, NOW you're starting to change your mind on that memory-erasing pen.

Calm down, you! If you keep doing that, you're basically foiling your own plan.

You didn't hear exactly what Wise said. You just heard a plural amount of something, fished your purse and put some dennies on the counter, and took the movie. You did it! You did them all while remaining calm and not looking rushed or anything!

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Wise looked at the counter where you put your dennies on. After counting them, he found that you also put a little piece of paper along. He picked it up, finding the word "Wipe anyone's memory! Rebrand yourself anew!" at the top.

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 20 thoughts:

I legit have restarted this post at least 10 times. I just. I can't even figure out what to say. What an arc. Holy fucking shit what an arc.

The last vestiges of Taylor's civilian life are swept away in one smooth motion.

I could have read another 5 chapters of Emma getting her shit handed to her though.

I've been waiting for something to come back and bite that girl since Arc 1. So I'm just riding high off of that.

Taylor getting all upset because it isn't real justice is silly though. Girl you've been fighting a broken system from day 1 and you have been doing that by breaking the rules. This is just the same thing.

Also god dammit Greg. Just had to go and run your mouth.

I mean sure Taylor could have possibly solved this issue without going to school herself.

And she could have just not gone to the office with Emma.

But blaming Greg is easier and more fun. God dammit Greg.

I had to lose my mind a bit at Taylor talking about how there was no gang graffiti on the school walls TEN SECONDS AFTER WALKING PAST GRAFFITI FOR THE UNDERSIDERS. Like, that's gang graffiti hon!

Dennis trying to help Taylor with Greg when he didn't know who either of them are is funny. Dennis seeing Taylor named as Skitter 15 minutes later is HYSTERICAL!!

The second Taylor was entered into the computer system it was pretty obvious that Dragon was going to show up, given what she said in her interlude in Arc 10.

And knowing she was going to show up it should have been obvious that HE was also going to show up.

Even if he wasn't palling around with my robot daughter it makes so much narrative sense for him to be there when she is outed. Full story arc, all that jazz.

And yet, I still wasn't quite expecting it. Cause I hate that man so much that I just had to make myself believe he wouldn't show up.

Mother fucking Colin

RoboCape himself

He has the nerve to show up and then he starts APOLOGIZING? And it appears to be sincere? Fucking dammit man you were so easy to hate for so long! Why you gotta mess with me like this?

STOP DOING THE RIGHT THING AND LET ME HATE YOU GOD DAMMIT!

siiiigh

And then of course we have to talk about Dragon.

Dragon who didn't want to do this but had to.

Except that Colin had a code push ready and she could have told him to do it at anytime. But she was willing to do what she thought was wrong instead of doing the update. Until she got inspired by Taylor's actions.

I love my robot daughter exactly as much as my bug daughter, but I am disappointed that she was almost willing to go through with everything. Happy she fought back though.

And if Colin's hacked together code did any permanent damage I'll destroy the man.

Taylor learning that Dinah - either by force or by choice - gave the PRT numbers to let them know to come after her at the school was heartbreaking to watch. She just wasn't ready for it at all, poor child.

AND TAYLOR'S SPEECH THOUGH!

HOLY SHIT!!!

Sort and simple and she fucking rallies the students to her. Against the heroes!

Gotta be one of the best moments in Worm for sure. Even if every Arc after this is a banger that's still gonna be a hard moment to top.

AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

And someone gives her a hoodie to help her hide and just aaaahhhh!

AND THEN AFTER THEY GOT AWAY AND ALL THE STUDENTS WERE LIKE "You saved my dad" "You stopped Leviathan at the shelter" "You fought off the SH9" AND SHE WAS JUST OVERWHELMED BY IT ALL?

HOLY FUCK JUST AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also for real though Dragon is free. Like sure it's taking her some time to recover and she can't talk right now (which like I get it, we all have non-verbal episodes sometimes), but as long as nothing goes wrong she is free. I'm so fucking happy for her.

But also I'm terrified cause I know what happens to full AI's with free will in most things. Worm is very different from most things. But I'm still worried about my robot daughter.

Also I never cared much for Danny but obviously it still sucks to be him here. The scene with Taylor saying goodbye with the butterfly was emotional.

Oh oh and! Taylor talks about the butterfly being her "last contact" with her Dad. Very much bug as an extension of self. It's a shift she's been making.

Even more so there's a point where she is trying to get out of the school and she gets to the door and has a bug clone on the other side and says "my hand pressing against my own, separated by an inch and a half of door". Like, the bug clone hand is just her hand. I fucking love the shift compared to how she talked about the bugs early on.

Oh and also Greg totally has like, a Thinker 1 power or something. Pretty sure I mentioned that last arc with his interlude but mentioning it again now to be sure.

Stan interlude thoughts:

Oh my god I hate this man I can't stand him I hated him from the 3rd sentence of the chapter and I was always right to do so!

Seriously. 3rd sentence (or maybe 3rd paragraph which is technically the 3rd, 4th, and 5th sentences I guess). I read it and went "fuck off Stan you're clearly a pretentious dick" and then every few sentences it just became more confirmed!

Just the ways he talks about Nipper. Like. I can rephrase what he says to say the exact same thing except not being a asshole when saying it! Instead of "She was weak and unsuited for the field but she at least tried" just say "She was a hard worker despite being assigned to a job she did not ask for"! It's so fucking easy dude!

Anyway Stan is a jerk.

I loved the way this interlude rolled through different people all watching the same news report. It was a really good way to cover this major story event and let us see how so many other characters were reacting to it.

Also I'm sure all those Slaughterhouse Nine clones aren't going to be an issue later right? Or the fact that there is specifically only one clone of Gray Boy instead of 10 like everyone else? I'm sure that's fiiiiine.

Accord interlude thoughts:

Oh. Oh my. Uhhh. Is it hot in here all of the sudden? Anyone else feel that? No? Just me?

sweats

Oh ok Citrine definitely feels what I'm feeling. She knows what's up.

Just like. Look. Accord is bad ok. Not just cause he's a villain but clearly he'll kill for the smallest cause. And he's in a spot to fuck with my daughter and her polycule so like. Yes. He's bad. I do not like him. I want him to leave. I don't think they should work with him . . .

but . . .

OH MY FUCKING GOD HOLY SHIT PLEASE ACCORD I LOOK GREAT IN PURPLE AND I LOVE DRESSING FANCY AND I'M VERY GOOD AT BEING PROPER I WON'T MESS UP AT ALL I'LL BE THE PERFECT MINION PLEASE!

. . .

cough

Soooo anyway. How about that Butcher huh? That sure is a wild power. Instantly made me think of Glaistig Uaine's power. Very different but reaches into that same base bit, the idea that some part of a dead parahuman can be held onto.

Also holy shit Skitter was so badass in this scene I loved it.

Holy shit Accord is with Cauldron. Or at least closely aligned. And like of course he is it makes so much sense. He's too useful for them to ignore.

I am really curious to see what Accord's power does when he's confronted with a really complex problem. End of the world, doors to another dimension, higher dimensional beings, all that jazz.

[fantomcomics]

What’s Out This Week? 7/19

We’ll see y’all at our Live Zine Reading on the 22nd!

Big Game #1 (of 5) -  Mark Millar & Pepe Larraz The comics event of the summer is here! Okay, this is so top secret we can't even show you the main cover because it spoils something MASSIVE. Just trust us when we say that this is going to be the comic book event of 2023-and it's NOT what you're expecting. Does the crossover really go that wide? Yes, it does. BIG GAME pulls together KICK-ASS, KINGSMAN, NEMESIS, THE MAGIC ORDER, and ALL the Millarworld franchises in one special event!

The Bomb: The Weapon That Changed The World GN -  Laurent-Frederic Bollee, Didier Alcante & Denis Rodier

On August 6, 1945, at 8:15 in the morning, an explosive charge of more than 15 kilotons fell on the city of Hiroshima. Tens of thousands of people were pulverized, and everything within four square miles was instantly destroyed. A deluge of flames and ash had just caused Japan's greatest trauma and changed the course of modern warfare and life on Earth forever. The world was horrified by the existence of the bomb-the first weapon of mass destruction. But how could such an appalling tool be invented? In The Bomb, Didier Alcante, Laurent-Frédéric Bollée, and Denis Rodier have created an exhaustive and definitive work of nonfiction that details the stories of the unsung players as well as the remarkable men and women who are at the crux of its history and the events that followed.

Doom Breaker GN Vol 1 -  Blue-Deep

Zephyr is the last human fighting evil in a world abandoned by the gods. After being slain by Tartarus, the Demon Lord, all of humanity seems lost. However, much to the sinister amusement of the gods, Zephyr is reincarnated to save humanity and avenge those he loves. Can Zephyr finally have his revenge against Tartarus and save the woman he loves, or is he doomed to repeat the past?

Frontera GN - Julio Anta & Jacoby Salcedo 

As long as he remembers to stay smart and keep his eyes open, Mateo knows that he can survive the trek across the Sonoran Desert that will take him from Mexico to the United States. That is until he's caught by the Border Patrol only moments after sneaking across the fence in the dead of night. Escaping their clutches comes at a price, and lost in the desert without a guide or water, Mateo is ill-prepared for the unforgiving heat that is sure to arrive come sunrise. With the odds stacked against him, his one chance at survival may be putting his trust in something, or rather someone, that he isn't even sure exists. If you'd asked him if ghosts were real before he found himself face-to-face with one, Mateo wouldn't have even considered it. But now, confronted with the nearly undeniable presence of Guillermo, he's having second thoughts. As his journey stretches on, Mateo will have to decide exactly what and who he's willing to sacrifice to find home.

The Great Snake’s Bride GN Vol 1 -  Fushiashikumo

For 500 years, a giant snake god has lived in the ancient mountain. Miyo, an unlucky young woman from the nearby village, has been offered as a tribute: she is to be the snake's bride. Miyo always feared that the enormous talking snake would devour her whole, but once she's taken in by the god, he treats her like a wife rather than a meal. His flicking tongue vibrates through gentle words, his powerful slithering body wraps around hers in an embrace. This god is kinder than his monstrous form implies, and Miyo thinks she could learn to appreciate the non-human form his love takes. What does it truly mean to be the bride of a beast?

Heart Eyes Complete Series TP -  Dennis Hopeless & Victor Ibáñez

Sanity-eating monsters ended humanity. The unlucky few who survived now hide in the cracks of a broken world. And yet somehow, beneath the graveyard that used to be San Antonio, Rico met Lupe, the girl of his dreams. But how did she get here? And why is she smiling? No one survives out in the street. No one smiles where the monsters lurk.

Homicide GN Part 1 - Philippe Squarzoni & David Simon 

Homicide, the celebrated true crime-book from the creator of HBO's The Wire, is reenvisioned in this first volume of a gritty, cinematic graphic novel duology. In 1988, journalist David Simon was given unprecedented access to the Baltimore Police Department's homicide unit. Over the next twelve months, he shadowed detectives as they took on a slew of killings in a city where killings were common. Only the most heinous cases stood out-chief amongst them, the rape and murder of eleven-year-old Latonya Wallace. Originally published in 1991, Simon's Homicide became the basis for the acclaimed television show Homicide: Life on the Streets and inspired HBO's The Wire. Now, this true-crime classic is reimagined as a gritty two-part graphic novel series.

Imitation GN Vol 1 - Kyoung-Ran Park

As a member of the obscure idol group "Tea Party," Ma-Ha dreams of becoming a big star one day. Little did she know that she'd go viral so soon...by embarrassing herself in a popular talk show! But as the saying goes, there is no such thing as bad publicity...right?

Impact Winter: Rook One-Shot - Travis Beacham & Andrea Milana

Hundreds of years before a comet hit Earth and created a cold, dark world ruled by vampires...   A wandering Roman centurion saved a woman from being sacrificed by druids. Honor bound to return Fionnuir to her homeland, Rook embarked on a journey across ancient Britain, where all manner of human and inhuman creatures dwelled...but none more dangerous than the demon he'd sworn himself to.

Lovesick TP -  Luana Vecchio 

"Nature has a kind of innocent cruelty, while man... Why can't man's cruelty be called innocent?" In one of the most lurid corners of the dark web, subscribers pay a high price to be maimed, tortured, and killed by ruthless and irresistible dominatrix DOMINO. This is what they call love in the LOVESICK CLUB. But as Domino faces emerging threats and mounting pressure from a needy audience, what price will she have to pay for success in this literally cutthroat world? And what will she have to become to survive? LUANA VECCHIO invites you into a digital underworld of blood and neon to explore the limits of consent, love, and idolatry in one of the most erotic and extreme stories in recent years!

Marvel Comics: A Manga Tribute GN 

Experience a fresh take on the Marvel Universe with this collection of stunning illustrations from over twenty exceptional Japanese artists, including Yasuhiro Nightow, Akira Himekawa, Peach Momoko, Yusuke Murata, and Yoshitaka Amano. Marvel Comics: A Manga Tribute explores Marvel's rich and enduring legacy as a pop-culture phenomenon by paying homage to its most iconic characters and beloved stories. The book features a range of unique artwork, collected for the first time, celebrating characters from across the multiverse. A must-have for fans of Marvel Comics and Japanese art alike!

Mika & The Howler GN -  Agata Loth-Igaciuk, Berenika Kolomycka & Crank!

Meet Mika! Mika is a young explorer who faces familiar-yet-not-fully known objects and obstacles around her house. Today's newest challenge? The "howler" that roams her living room and hallways sucking up dust bunnies and even her socks! But the howler isn't as dangerous as it appears, and young Mika is soon brave enough to face it. The first in the series of books for the youngest comics readers, enjoy the sweet, simple, and delightful Mika and the Howler.

Misfit Mansion GN - Kay Davault

Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends meets Hilda and the Troll in this spooky and sweet middle grade graphic novel about a monster girl who sneaks out of her foster home and into a human town in search of a forever family but finds more than she bargained for. Despite her monstrous appearance, Iris has never felt like she belongs in a mansion filled with kelpies and gorgons and unicorns. She longs to find a family. Unfortunately, she and her housemates are trapped in a "foster home for horrors" run by former paranormal investigator Mr. Halloway. So, when a human boy named Mathias breaks the house's sealing spell, Iris and her companions are set free upon the town of Dead End Springs. What Iris doesn't know is that Mathias is also a paranormal hunter (the kind who seeks to capture and destroy the horrors), or that there are other dangers ahead. As Iris searches for a home, she makes human friends, explores a brand-new world... and stumbles upon a dark secret that Halloway has kept locked in the basement of the house. Will this long-slumbering mystery destroy the family Iris so desperately seeks?

Offshore Lightning GN -  Saito Nazuna

Nazuna Saito began making comics late. She was in her forties when she submitted a story to a major Japanese publishing house and won an award for newcomers. Offshore Lightning collects Saito's early work as well as two recent graphic novellas "In Captivity" (2012) and "Solitary Death Building" (2015), both focused on aging and death.

Pool Boys #1 - Josh Trujillo & Josh Cornillon

Pool Boys welcomes you to the interdimensional Solitaire Resort. This steamy romance focuses on found love, fleeting connections, and the fun we have along the way. Featuring pinups by Sina Grace, Luciano Vecchio, Jacoby Saucedo, and more, with a cover by David Talaski.  

Project Arca: Into The Dark Labyrinth HC -  Romain Bennasaya & Joan Urgell 

In the not-too-distant future, the planet Earth has been destroyed, its orbit withering and its citizens desperate to escape to the stars. The solution? The Arca, massive vessels bound for the distant promised land of Leonis. When the passengers of Arca III awaken from their long intergalactic journey, they realize they're not in Leonis. Not only that, their journey has taken much longer than the planned two hundred years, and has landed them in a starless, seemingly endless place. Eric Rives, the ship's second-in-command, and his partner Jia Tang are sent on an exploratory mission to investigate the dark labyrinth that surrounds them... but what they find is beyond belief.

Scrapper #1 (of 6) - Cliff Bleszinksi, Alex De Campi, Sandy Jarrell & Juan Ferreyra Blade Runner-style action mixes with big emotions as stray dog Scrapper and his buddy Tank fight for justice against the totalitarian forces of a post-apocalyptic domed city. But when the fight comes to his home, Scrapper will face losing what's most important to him-and gain a terrifying truth in the process. (Don't worry, Mom. The dog doesn't die.)

Star Wars Inquisitor: Rise Of The Red Blade - Delilah S Dawson

When the Jedi Order falls, the Inquisitors rise.. From the aftermath of Order 66 comes a new group of former Jedi, each with their own reason to serve the Empire under Darth Vader. Among them is Iskat, who survived the destruction of her old Order to claim a new destiny in the Force. Iskat joins the Inquisitors in the hope of uncovering her hidden past that the Jedi refused to share with her.

Video Game Of The Year SC -  Jordan Minor & Dan Ryckert

Pong. The Legend of Zelda. Final Fantasy VII. Rock Band. Fortnite. Animal Crossing: New Horizons. For each of the 40 years of video game history, there is a defining game, a game that captured the zeitgeist and left a legacy for all games that followed. Through a series of entertaining, informative, and opinionated critical essays, author and tech journalist Jordan Minor investigates, in chronological order, the innovative, genre-bending, and earth-shattering games from 1977 through 2022. Minor explores development stories, critical reception, and legacy, and also looks at how gaming intersects with and eventually influences society at large while reveling in how uniquely and delightfully bizarre even the most famous games tend to be.

Wanted 20th Anniversary Edition #1 -  Mark Millar &  J. G. Jones Celebrate 20 years of Millarworld this month with this special gold-logo edition of the comic that started it all, featuring the reprinted first issue of WANTED itself alongside exclusive interviews, sketches, and behind-the-scenes material! Learn how WANTED went from the page to the screen in record time and set a course for not only the Angelina Jolie movie, but the Netflix empire that came after.

Whatcha snagging this week?

[telperinquaar]

Part 3 please god is it over yet can it be over yet 💔

Bill you dumb shit why are you looking in the sewers

HE IS STILL A CHILD WHAT ARE YOU DOING

While I love McAvoy's range, when he talks in this, all I can think is "Hey, that's Dennis Hoarde-Split."

As much as I love this moment of Bill connecting with (and then terrifying) a local kid, I preferred Ben's interaction in the book, realizing that he's actually a stranger now. He's become the grownup that people tell kids to avoid. (I also miss the "You can't be careful on a skateboard" line.)

Wait is Ben in school during the summer break?

Why is Beverly so into Ben heOH okay she's Pennywise.

I know the "hair is winter fire" is why "Beverly's" head is on fire, but all I can think of Hades from the Hercules cartoon 😭

"Kiss me fat boy 😩" That is exactly what that looks like :'(

Honestly I understand the teeth but visually, they're starting to get boring. Go back to Grandma Flappytits.

So you're expecting me to believe this movie takes place in 2016, and Ben Hanscom, a grown-ass adult, was just allowed to walk into a high school in the middle of summer???? I mean I know it's Derry, but come on guys.

Watch this guys. You can actually pinpoint the second when his heart rips in half. Aaaaand… now.

City-sponsored fursona

Poor Eddie 😭 He just got ballooned in the face.

I genuinely liked Mr. Keene. I feel like they took the goodness from him. Who the fuck is this girl.

"It's not gonna pop it's a mole." RIP 😭

"Thanks. For the pills, not the dick thing." God why is this guy the funniest character 😭 I don't remember him being this funny in the book.

I don't like this scene and I don't think it's in the book. Although I do like the woman who plays his mom. She's a great actress and I love the 80s windbreaker suit she's in.

This whole spooky basement shit just Did Not Happen and I hate it. Also, what this is leaving out is the "leper" actually was real at one point. It wasn't just a random fear he invented, it was based on a run-in with a homeless guy who probably had syphilis.

I'm pretty sure I've asked this once already, but where is Audra? Like. That was a *whole thing" in the book.

Ben: At least I got Richie to stay.

Richie: *climbing out the window*

What the fuck is happening here? It was Mike that got attacked by Bowers. Eddie went down to the sewers with them. He died there Are they going to kill him too, on top of everything else???

Bill don't you know how to navigate a funhouse. One hand on the wall at all times.

This movie is not epilepsy friendly. I'm getting a headache from this. 💔

Oh thank god it's over.

I'm curious the fact that there's a synagogue in Derry, because it was made abundantly clear that part of the reason that Stanley was an outsider was because he was the only Jewish kid there.

I'M SORRY ARE THEY SAYING THAT MIKE'S DAD CAUSED THE FIRE AT THE BLACK SPOT? IT WAS A FUCKING WHITE SUPREMACIST HATE CRIME IN THE BOOKS AND NOW YOU'RE TURNING IT INTO SOMETHING MIKE'S DAD DID????? Oh I am going to go fucking ape on this. I am so fucking mad.

I love seeing Stanley do Jewish things. Best part about this movie.

LSKDF RICHIE CLAPPING AT THE END OF THE BAR MITZVAH SPEECH 😭 it me

That reminds me, I also hate seeing that Mike actually just like… lives at the library. In the novel, he actually does have a house. Bill stays there at the end! He just stays at the library, showing how much this whole thing has fucking consumed him.

Are you fucking kidding me. They made his parents fucking drug addicts too???

Okay, that's it. I can't watch this anymore.

Okay I would absolutely love an I ❤ Derry beaver hat 😭

Adrian Mellon, you were too good for this world, and I hope Webby and his cronies rot in hell.

Getting anxiety thinking about all the balloon waste that these films must have created 💔

The fact that Don is dressed like... just a regular guy here, instead of the caricature of a gay man he was in the novel is great actually, and it makes the scene in the novel that much better.

Bill just appeared on screen and all I can think of is this post 😭

"You said you needed another day and we're shooting this tonight!" "Yeah but that's like... 17 hours."

"People loved your book, but they hated the ending." "You said you liked the ending..." "I lied."

"I love you mommy." "What." "Myra."

Oh I really could have lived without Richie "throwing up" on me. 💔

I really like Richard as a stand-up comedian instead of a DJ. If they had to change the time period, that was a good move.

OH NO WHY DID THEY HAVE TO MAKE GROWN-UP STAN A BAB??? :C💔

"How long has it been?" "27 years." NO IT WASN'T! THE CYCLE WAS SHORTER BECAUSE THEY STOPPED IT!

No, the scar faded. It only came back when they started to remember.

Get his ass, Beverly! GET HIS ASS!

(That being said, because of the names and the fact that they're both redheads, Adult!Beverly always looked like Beverly Crusher to me 😭)

Do you really expect me to believe this guy hasn't updated his hairstyle in 27 years. I mean, I know they probably didn't exactly let him choose how he wore it in Juniper Hill, but that he'd still be rocking a mullet in 2018?

Mike: *enthusiastic hug greeting* Bill: Uh.... do I know you..... (It's me, I'm Bill.)

God I love Adult!Eddie so much. I would kill and die for you, Eddie Kaspbrak.

"I ended up becoming a risk analyst." No you didn't you drive a limo.

I would like to nominate James McAvoy as Greatest Actor Of Our Time here. Because the range on this man is fucking insane.

While it's completely different than the novel, the fortune cookie scene and everyone scrambling to figure it out is kind of killing me :'( ❤

RIP the poor Chinese restaurant employee 😭💔

"Plus, I just remembered I grew up here like, two hours ago!"

NO NOT THE LITTLE GIRL ADRIAN GAVE HIS TOY TO :C

Okay well this is all I have the energy for tonight. Catch part 2 of part 2 tomorrow. 😔

[libraryofloveletters]

Cake & Kisses

Evan Buckley x Reader 

Warnings: nothing really 

Category: fluff with like 0.01 angst if you squint 

Word Count: 2.8k (This one kind of ran away from me oops)

Author’s Note: This is for my darling @mrs-dr-reid, when I saw it was your birthday, I had to write a little something for you. Happy birthday again! <3

----

The sun peeked through the curtains just as your alarm went off. Your boyfriend, Buck, had a habit of closing the curtains before he left for work which you didn’t mind on your days off but today, you couldn't wait to get out of bed. 

See, today was a special day. It was your birthday and Buck had been hinting all week that he had a surprise for you. 

“Babe?!” you shouted as you rolled out of bed.

Peering over the railing, you looked around for your boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be found. You picked up your phone to find a few messages, birthday wishes from your mom and your siblings before you came across a text from Buck. 

From Buck: Headed into work early, covering for Eddie. Chris came down with something so he took him to the doctors. See you at work, love you 

To Buck: Okay, love you too 

Huh. No birthday wish. It was a bit strange considering how excited he was but you didn’t think anything of it. Maybe he would tell you at work. You replied to your siblings and just as you were going to reply to your mom, she called you. You spoke with her as you got ready for work. She wished you well before letting you go. 

The drive to the station was quicker than expected. Walking in, it seemed like a normal day, you went through your routine- changing, clock in and head up for breakfast. You braced yourself, hoping that maybe there was a surprise for you but nope, just a regular old day. Hen was sitting on the couch, her legs up on the table with Chimney beside her in the same position, both of them saying good morning as you passed by. You smiled at them on your way to the kitchen, your boyfriend had his back turned to you, he was getting a cup of coffee. 

Your arms wrap around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Hey you” you smile, Buck’s hand comes down to rest on top of yours, “good morning baby. Want some coffee?” he turns, a mug in his other hand. You sigh, looking up at your boyfriend- head tilted slightly with a small smile on your face. 

“What ?” he smiles too, his expression mirroring yours. Shaking your head, you smile, “nothing. You just look cute that's all.” 

“Hm, so do you” he leans, meeting you halfway before giving you a kiss. 

“I’ll be back love, I forgot my phone in my locker” you give his hip a squeeze before unwrapping your arms from him and heading down the stairs. Once you reach the locker room, you see Eddie in there. Knocking on the wall to give him a heads up, he turns to the door. “Oh hey” he smiles and turns back to his locker. 

“Hey, how’s Chris feeling ?” 

“Chris ?” he trails off, he was unsure what you were talking about. 

“Buck said Chris wasn’t feeling well. You took him to the doctors ?” leaning against the lockers, you look at Eddie. You watch as his confusion changes into understanding. 

“Oh yeah, stomach bug he picked up at school. Carla’s at home with him” he says, he gave you another smile before stepping out of the room. 

You find your phone and sit on one of the benches. You find a few more messages from your friends from high school and such - not that you didn’t appreciate them, it was just that none of the messages were from who you really wanted one from. Regardless, you said thank you and moved on. 

Heading back up to the kitchen,  the team had made themselves comfortable at the table and they were having a conversation until they saw you. The conversation stopped, they were all looking at you. 

“Come sit, breakfast is gonna get cold” Bobby smiles, nodding towards the chair beside Buck. 

You take a seat next to your boyfriend, he smiles at you as his hand comes down and rests on your thigh. “Did I interrupt something just now?” questioning, you take a sip of coffee which you soon realized was Buck judging by the overpowering sweetness. 

“We were just talking about the latest episode, Buck said you hadn't seen it yet” Hen tells you, you hum. 

Breakfast was interrupted by the sound of blaring alarms. Everyone loaded up onto the truck, you could feel the awkwardness building by the second. From Buck leaving early this morning, to Eddie seeming confused about taking Chris to the doctors and then the dropped conversation at breakfast- something was off today. 

Nonetheless, you pushed all the awkwardness aside and did your job. There was a little kid who gotten himself stuck at the top of a tree but his father couldn't go up to get him because the branch was about to break. The entire team wasn't exactly needed, Eddie got up on the ladder and got the little boy down. 

You were sitting on the curb of the street when Buck found you. “Hey, we’re about to leave.” the displeasure evident on your face, Buck sat beside you. 

“Are you okay babe ?” 

“What day is it today ?” 

“The 5th, why ?” 

“So you know what day it is then” 

“Well yeah” Buck chuckled, “are you sure you’re alright ?” he asked once more, you hummed before getting up and leaving him at the side of the road.

--- 

The station was quiet, most of the team had left half an hour ago. Hen was on her way home to Karen and the kids, Chimney was going on a date with Maddie and Eddie was on his way home to his little boy. Your boyfriend Buck, also headed home because he was tired.

Bobby had made dinner and it didn’t seem fair for everyone to leave and have him be stuck with paperwork and dishes so you stuck around and tidied up a bit. After clearing the table and washing the dishes, as well as sticking the leftovers in the fridge, you head down to change and then go home. Seeing that it was empty, you took your sweet time changing. You were sitting on the bench, putting on your shoes when you saw Bobby coming towards you. 

“Did you clean the kitchen ?” he asks, stepping further into the locker room. 

“Yeah, I heard that you had some paperwork so it didn’t seem fair that you got stuck cleaning” you tell him. 

“Thank you,” he smiles and sits beside you, “did they all leave ?” 

“Yeah” you hum. 

Bobby nudged your shoulder with his, “Happy birthday y/n” he smiles, you look at him- shocked. “You remembered ?” “Of course, how could I not?” 

“Thanks” you give him another smile, which turns into a sigh. “What’s wrong ?”he asks you. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Isn't Athena waiting for you at home ?” 

“She’ll be okay if I'm a few minutes late, what’s on your mind kid?”  

“It’s just that you’re the only one that remembered” you admit to him quietly. 

“Your birthday ? Surely at least Buck remembered” he looks at you. 

You shake your head, sighing. “Sorry, I feel like dumb whining about it. It’s just a birthday you know ? I mean they’ve got busy lives, it’s fine” you tell him, you were trying to reassure yourself more than you were trying to convince Bobby. 

“Hey, don’t apologize.” He gives your hand a squeeze, “why don’t you come over? You can have dinner with Athena and I” 

“Thank you, but I couldn’t do that. I can’t crash your plans like that” 

“Y/n, I assure you that you wouldn’t be crashing our plans. Plus, she’s been asking me when she’s going to see you again” he chuckles and gets up, “come on. I’ll call her and let her know that we’re coming” Bobby reaches into his pocket for his phone when you get up, you follow him outside and then the two of you head towards his house. 

The whole drive over, you couldn’t stop thinking about how they forgot your birthday. You could understand everyone else- Hen, she had Karen and her family to think about. Eddie was worried about Chris who wasn't feeling the best right now and Chimney and Maddie had a baby on the way- but Buck, that one hurt. 

Bobby waited for you outside and both headed in. He stepped in first, shouting for Athena as he walked in. “Honey! I’m home! Y/n’s with me!” he shouted, stepping further into the house. Bobby walked down the stairs first, the house was quiet and you hadn't heard Athena answer him either.  You followed him in, shutting the door when you stepped in. As you round the corner, you see the living room was empty, Bobby now by the dining room table with Athena. 

“Y/n, sweetheart!” Athena called for you as she saw you. She made her way over, arms opened for a hug. “Happy birthday!” She pulls you in for a hug, your arms wrapping around her. 

“Thank you Athena,” you give her a smile. “Hopefully, I'm not ruining any plans” She leads you towards the table, her hand now resting on your back. 

“Not at all, actually we were just waiting on you” she says, your brows furrow and head tilts in confusion. She holds your shoulders and spins you towards the kitchen where the team and their families are standing. 

“Happy birthday!” they all shout, you let out a laugh. “I cannot believe y’all” you’re smiling so much, it physically hurts your face. “Thank you, you guys are so sweet - and here I was thinking y’all forgot” 

“How could we forget your birthday?” Chimney asks as he comes over to give you a hug, Maddie following him and repeating his actions. Maddie wasn't far along but just far enough for her bump to start showing, your hand rests on her stomach for a moment, she smiles as her hand comes up to rest on yours. 

A few moments later, Hen and Karen come over, both wishing you a happy birthday as Denny and Nia give you the card they made for you. You crouch down to give them a hug, thanking them for the beautiful card they made you and promising them that it’s going to go up on the fridge when you get home.

Eddie and Chris were next, Chris wrapping his arms around your waist as he leant into your side. Your hand coming to his hair, running your fingers through it. “I thought you had the stomach bug lil man” you look down at the boy who was grinning at you. “No, dad and Buck said that so dad could pick up your birthday cake” he tells you, spilling all of his father and Buck’s secrets. “Is that so?” you ask him, looking at Eddie who was holding back a smile. “Yeah! it’s chocolate cake, I picked the flavour” he says proudly, making you smile. Chris walks off at some point while you and Eddie are talking, making his way over to Denny, Nia and Harry. 

“I know we shouldn’t have lied- are you mad ?” Eddie asks, handing you a cup of a currently unknown liquid. “I mean, kinda but not really ?” you both laugh, “happy birthday y/n” Eddie kisses your cheek before walking off. 

Finally your boyfriend makes his way over to you, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “Happy birthday baby” he smiles, kissing your temple as you lean into his side. 

“Thank you but I’m still mad at you” you huff, turning your face away from him. 

“Oh, what’s wrong ?” he asks, his thumb pushing your head back towards him. You smack his side, not hard enough to hurt him but hard enough to get his attention. “Ow! what was that for?” 

“How could you let me go all day thinking that you forgot my birthday ?!” 

“Because I had to come up with some way to keep this a secret! If I told you happy birthday, you'd realize I was up to something.” he tells you, you hum- not bothering to give his answer a reaction. You weren't actually mad, you were grateful that he took the time to plan a surprise party for you- you were grateful for the entire team, they truly were your family. 

“Don’t be mad, c’mon” he turns towards you, his hands now on your hips and your arms come up to his shoulders. “I couldn’t stay mad at you if I wanted to”  smiling at him, he leans in and kisses you. A chorus of ‘ew’ and ‘gross’ put a halt in your moment as you both look over to see the 3 boys giggling with a very confused Nia beside them. Buck laughs, sending them on their way before turning back to you.

“I hear I have chocolate cake waiting for me somewhere” 

“How’d you know that ?” he asks, obviously confused as to how you deduced the flavour of your birthday cake. 

“Christopher” 

“Ah man, that was supposed to be part of the surprise” 

“What can I say ? My charm is irresistible, he just had to tell me” you joke, Buck chuckles. Buck pulls you closer to him, his body basically pressed against yours. “Can I tell you something ?” he looks down at you- although you weren’t super short, he still towered over you, as he did everyone because he was a giant but that’s besides the point. You hum, waiting for him to tell you whatever it is he wanted to tell you.

“It was killing me not to tell you happy birthday. You have no idea how much I just wanted to pick you up and shout it” he groans and then sighs like he’s let out the biggest secret of his life. You laugh, “well I’m glad you told me anyways” you kiss his cheek, he smiles.

“Can you get me a cupcake, please ? I think they’re in the fridge” he asks, you hum. Letting go of him, you turn to the fridge. You spot your cake in the corner, blue frosting with white lettering. Finding the tray of cupcakes, you pull it out and set it in the counter before picking out one for Buck.

When you turn, Buck was gone - well it seemed like he was until you glanced down. Buck was in front of you on his knee, the black velvet box in his hand opened, a beautiful diamond ring sitting in it.

“Y/n, you make me the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I know I always tell you that I don’t believe in soulmates but with you- it’s different. You are my soulmate, the one I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. From the first day you walked into the station with your “I’m new but I know my shit” attitude, I was into you because babe, that was so hot.” You both chuckle before he continues.

“You’re my best friend and I would do anything to show you how much I love you - literally anything. I love you and I really hope you love me as much as I love you because this is about really awkward if you don’t- will you marry me ?” he looks up at you, the hope glimmering in his eyes.

When you look at Buck, you saw your whole world, your lover, your future all wrapped up into one.

“Yes, I’ll marry you” you lean down, hands cupping his cheeks as you kiss him. He gets up before sliding the ring onto your finger. You hold your hand out, admiring the ring. 

“Oh baby, it’s beautiful” you smile at him, his arm over your shoulder again. The two of you make your way to the backyard with everyone else.

“Guys!” Buck shouts, everyone stops and looks at the two of you. “We have an announcement to make,” he says, looking at you and smiling.

“We’re getting married!” You both shout simultaneously.

Everyone’s just as shocked as you were moments ago in the kitchen. “What?!” Chimney shouts back, making you laugh. You hold your hand out, showing him the ring. “Holy shit,” he turns back, looking at everyone. “They’re getting married”

Soon enough everyone comes over to congratulate the two of you, one by one. You and Buck stood together, he was talking to Bobby and Athena, his arm still over your shoulder. You look around the backyard, everyone’s smiling and happy.

This was your happy place, these people were your family and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

---- 

taglist: @ssa-volturi @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @averyhotchner @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @venusrosepetal @luke-alvez @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13​

[mach-speed-spin]

Rating Beyblade V-Force and movie drip

1) Still no spoilers

2) Still a long ass post

3) The ratings are still relative to the franchise. A 2/10 on this list is the equivalent of a 6/10 irl

4) This is based purely on how good it looks. I’m not going to delve into any symbolism present in these designs

5) Season 1 can be found here

Tyson: 3/10. A direct downgrade from season 1

Uniform Kai: 3/10. Mostly regular clothing. Not bad, but definitely one of the weakest fits for the series. I’m not a fan of the tie, but the earring makes up for it

Kai: 6/10. It’s not as over the top and muscle-showing as his season 1 design, but I do like the arm warmers (and I want a pair of those, which I would not be able to use because I live in the tropics)

Ray: 7/10. Similar to season 1, but I do like the black more than the blue

Max: 2/10. I don’t like how the sweater is so oversized, but the design on it is pretty cool

Kenny: 3/10. I like the red, and it makes him stand out more compared to season 1

Judy: 4/10. It’s better than her regular season 1 look, mainly due to the necklace

DJ: 6/10. It’s good, but not as much as season 1

Mr. Dickenson: 5/10. He loses a lot of the eccentricity he had in his earlier design (like the bow tie). He technically has his hat this season, but appears without it very often

Ryu: 4/10. It’s basically the same as in season 1

Taro: 2/10. It’s a more basic version of season 1

Hilary: 4/10. It works, but nothing special

Athletic wear Hilary: 3/10. It j=doesn’t look as good as her regular outfit

Ozuma: 4/10. I have the same complaints as with season 1 Lee, but Ozuma looks somewhat better

Joseph: 5/10. I like the legwear

Mariam: 4/10. The orange doesn’t work as well for her as it does for Joseph

Dunga: 5/10. I like the ripped sleeves

Saint Shields Elder: 5/10. His clothes are a less colorful version of the Saint Shields and they work well for him

Kane: 2/10. It’s not bad, just uninspired

Psykick Kane: 4/10. It’s not original or unique, but it looks decent

Post-Psykick Kane: 2/10. Same as pre-Psykick

Salima: 2/10. Same as Kane

Jacket Salima: 5/10. That jacket completely makes the fit

Psykick Salima: 4/10. Same as Psykick Kane

Jim: 2/10. Same as Kane and Salima

Psykick Jim: 4/10. All the Psykick outfits look exactly the same

Post-Psykick Jim: 2/10. Same as post-Psykick Kane

Goki: 1/10. It just doesn’t work

Psykick Goki: 4/10. It’s a Psykick outfit

Chameleon: 5/10. The green Psykick uniforms are worse than the purple ones, but the camo pattern makes up for it

Dark Emperor Bat: 5/10. The night vision goggles improve on the uniform

Figel: 6/10. The hair and makeup compensate for the somewhat bland uniform

Daryl: 3/10. The most boring of the Psykick uniforms and nothing to make him stand out even amongst his fellow Psykick bladers

Dr. Zagart: 6/10. The coat and high tech monocle are great

Gideon: 3/10. He wants to look like an old aristocrat but doesn’t quite get there

Doctor B: 2/10. Generic and boring, but not downright ugly

Slim: 2/10. Same as Doctor B

Fatso: 2/10.Same as Doctor B

Snakey: 3/10. Same as Daryl

Gerry: 3/10. Psykick uniform

Wyatt: 3/10. Looks good, but uninspired

Psykick Wyatt: 3/10. It’s a boring Psykick uniform

Zeo: 3/10. It’s a subpar fit, saved only by the hair

Pajamas Zeo: 4/10. Why is this better than his casual clothes?

Evil Zeo: 5/10. This is how you do an evil uniform

Gordo: 5/10. Sleeveless + visor

Net: 4/10. Better uniform than the green Psykick ones, but not better than the purple ones

Jack: 4/10. Same as Net

Dennis: 4/10. Same as the other Zagart bladers

Denny: 4/10. Zagart blader

Foxy: 4/10. Zagart blader

Undercover Doctor K: 4/10. Good but not great

Doctor K under Zagart: 5/10. A slight improvement

Doctor K: 7/10. I love that outfit and want one for myself

Dan: 4/10. 2 of those points come from the sunglasses

William: 3/10. Nothing special

King: 4/10. I have nothing to say besides “it looks neat”

Queen: 4/10. Same as King

Tanner: 1/10. Very boring

Ganta: 1/10. He’s basically a background character so I didn’t expect much

Marcos: 3/10. Surprised by the amount of detail that went into a barely named background character

Sanchez: 3/10. Same as Marcos

Alan: 1/10. Not a fan of this look

Evil Alan: 2/10. Red works better than orange

Armored Alan: 4/10. I like it much more than his regular clothing

Sunny Ronny: 3/10. All 3 points come from the comically large polka-dot bow tie

Ms. Kincaid: 2/10. She’s a background character in design (but not as good as actual background characters Marcos and Sanchez)

Scott: 2/10. It’s just a suit and not a particularly stylish one at that

Mrs. Saien: 2/10. Background character design

Mr. Saien: 1/10. Not as interesting than his wife

Daichi: 3/10. Alright, but not as good as he’d look in G-Rev

Shadow Daichi: 2/10. He just looks like a gremlin

Professor Tengai: 2/10. Almost background character design

Henry: 0/10. It seems minimal effort went into his design here

Shadow Henry: 9/10. I love absolutely everything about this look

Ashley: 0/10. Same as Henry

Shadow Ashley: 9/10. Same as Shadow Henry (I love these evil designs)

Daniel: 1/10. At least the rolled up sleeves are something

Shadow Daniel: 7/10. Not as good as Henry and Ashley, but still great

Steven: 1/10. More detail than Henry and Ashley, but not by much

Shadow Steven: 8/10. I love the evil armored look

[jermanfrankmancollective]

The Gang Buys an Alley House

A/n- This was written by our lovely creative team along with our friend, El! Mac is out of the closet and the Ass Pounder is a prototype, despite taking place around season 6.

Warnings: Drug use, homophobia/internalized homophobia & emetophobia.

Pairing(s): Mac / Dennis

Word Count: 10,248

Description: After Frank burns down the boat- he decides to try making up for it, by building a tiny house for the gang to relax in. It soon attracts more than what they've bargained for.

8:12 AM

On a Thursday

Philadelphia, PA

INT: Paddy’s Pub - Day

Frank enters the pub, a wild grin on his face. He spots the gang at the bar. Dennis spares a glance at him, filled with disinterest- he was still pissed about losing the boat- and goes back to cleaning a beer glass.

“I’ve got news!” Frank exclaims. Mac looks disappointed for only a split second, before Dennis- placing a hand on Mac’s shoulder- stops him from having an outburst.

Dee turns her head looking incredibly irritated at Frank’s entrance. “Ohh boy, what’s this now?”

“I’ve got somethin’ that’ll fix all this boat depression shit!” Frank pulls out a blueprint and rolls it out on the bar.

“We’re doing a colouring page?” Charlie instinctively pulls out a crayon with a bite taken out of it. Mac slaps it out of his hand across the room, which doesn’t seem to phase Charlie.

Dennis sighs, “That’s a blueprint, Charlie.”

“I was wondering why it was already coloured in…” he mutters in response.

Dennis inhales sharply and shoots Charlie a look that can only be described as utter disbelief, which quickly shifts to “I don’t even have the energy to respond to this.” He rolls his eyes, the kind that brings his whole body into motion with it.

“Right, okay, just- Frank, elaborate, will you?” Dennis gestures towards the blueprint.

“We’re building…an Alley House!”

“The hell is an ‘Alley House?’” Dennis’ voice raises. Anyone within 10 feet of him could tell he wants to go home.

“Made em all the time in ‘Nam! Exactly how it sounds. House- in an Alley!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Mac slams his hands against the bar, a heated glare evident on his face.

Frank waves him off, “Ya gotta trust me on this one, ‘s lotsa fun spending a week in one-a them. Besides, it’s the summer - tellin’ me you’d rather stay cooking up in the heat of your apartments?”

Charlie was already shaking his head with a fearful look.

“Ohh no, no, no, and nope. Negative, Frank. You ever seen the sort of creatures that lurk at night in the alleyways? Gargoyles, man. I’ve even seen those, like, little hairy devils that scatter on four legs. Trust me when I say this, dude, you do not wanna get into trouble with one of those.”

“Yeah, Frank,” Mac continues, adjusting his posture and furrowing his brow. “Even though I could totally fight off any monster that comes our way- I’ve been training like crazy and it shows- I’m too sore to do anything.”

“For once, I agree with Mac. I’m not risking a sunburn to do construction in an alleyway.”

“And I-“ Dee starts, but Mac puts an arm in front of her before she can voice her opinion.

“So it’s settled, then. Frank, we are not building your dumbass Alley House!”

EXT: Alley House - Afternoon

The gang is standing in front of their first ever and newly built- Alley House. They’re all covered in paint and saw dust by the end of it. Poor Charlie has the worst of it, with varying- and worrying- levels of splinters in his hands. He doesn’t pay too much mind to it, he has been working as Paddy’s resident rat basher for several years now. He’s worked up quite the callus on his fingers. The rest of the gang is visibly exhausted and dirty- except Dennis, who takes off his gloves, and then wipes off his sweatless brow.

Dennis offers a patronizing smile, “Good work.”

“Thanks, Den!” Mac smiles the sort of ignorant smile he always does. Dennis groans in response. “It is really hot out here…” Mac says, and after he knows Dennis can see him, he pulls off his grease stained tank top and not-so subtly flexes his glamour muscles. “Really a blazer today…”

Dennis looks unimpressed. Mac chooses to ignore his lack of awe, and holds his stupid grin for another pose.

“Well, out of the way, boners. Let’s take a look inside.” Dee shoves past Mac and opens the door to the newly built Alley House.

“Ooh. Lot smaller than I’d like, but uh, we’ll make do.” Dee looks around at the nearly empty interior of the Alley House.

“‘S an Alley House, Deandra! The real charm lies in the small size-a the thing - rough ‘n cozy, but not too hot either!” Frank steps in behind Dee, pushing past her to scan the interior. Charlie and Dennis filter behind.

There’s a short counter space near the entryway- perfect for setting a microwave or a portable stove down- the kind you’d use when camping. There’s room for a couch, and perhaps a pull out bed. There’s a ladder up to the loft of the Alley House. A horrifying look blooms across Frank’s face, “Aw, shit.”

There is only one bed.

Frank turns around, rubbing his hands together, a twisted smile on his face. “Ah-right, children, here’s the deal. Chawlie n’ I‘ll share a bed, Dennis n’ Mac‘ll get the otha one. Deandra, since you’re the only girl, ya get your own.” Dee’s expression lifts from disinterest to damn near glee.

“What? You’ve got to be kidding, Frank.” Dennis lets out an exasperated sigh, rubbing at his temple. “I am not sleeping with him.”

“Sleeping with who?” Mac pokes his head into the doorway of the Alley House, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Dennis hesitates, but quickly comes up with an idea; “Good news! You and Charlie are sharing this bed.”

Mac slides back into the room next to Charlie, who looks sick to his stomach. “No WAY, dude.” Charlie protests. “I did not spend an entire five minutes at the bar sink yesterday scrubbing Mac’s fleas out of my hair, just to get stuck in the same bed with him. YOU take him.”

Mac slides next to Dennis as he retaliates, and then back and forth as Charlie and Dennis argue over who gets stuck with him.

Frank turns towards Dennis, “Ah-right, you’re sleeping down here with me then.”

Dennis reels back, disgusted. “That’s it, Mac and I are sleeping in the loft!”

“Uh, yeah, okay, awesome,” Mac claps his hands together, shuffling closer to an agitated Dennis. “We’re sleeping together!”

“Don’t say it like that.” Dennis takes a step to the side, and Mac follows.

“Also, I don’t have fleas, that was one time and-“

“Yesterday?”

“Yesterday.” Mac pauses mid-sentence, glancing at the floor in shame.

“…Jesus Christ.”

INT: Range Rover/Home Store - Afternoon

On Your Bike

Frank, Dee and Charlie are all cramming themselves into Dennis’ range rover, with Dee in the driver’s seat.

“Frank, how come you got one bed, but didn’t think of where we’d get the rest of our furniture? Actually, where’d you get that bed in the first place?” Dee furrows her brows as she starts the car.

“Was unda’ the bridge. Chawlie and I carried it all the way home when we first got it from Duncan, thought it’d come in handy someday, ‘n it did!” Frank and Charlie share satisfied grins.

“Gross!” Dee looks back at the two in disgust before turning back to the road ahead. “I keep telling you not to hang out with him! It’s revolting. That mattress looks like it’s riddled with every disease on the planet!”

“You’re bein’ dramatic, Deandra. Who’s gonna let a perfectly good bed like that go to waste?”

Dee shoots Frank another look of repulsion.

“Perfectly good bed? Perfectly good bed, Frank, it looked disgusting! I am not being dramatic for questioning the hygiene behind a bed found under some bridge! Y’know what, why should I care? Those two boners are the ones stuck with it anyway- I get my own clean bed from the store.” She stretches the last words in a smug sort of sing-songy way.

They finally reach the home store with a mild amount of complaints and arguing. Now, came the real task. They only needed a few things- and then they could finally go back to Paddy’s, and chill in the Alley House.

Dee looks beside her, expecting Charlie to be there only to find Frank instead. “Goddamnit, where’d Charlie go?” She squawks.

“You tell me.” Frank mumbles, a hard boiled egg muffling his words. Where did he even find that?

Dee takes Frank’s non-eggy hand and drags him along to help her search.

Charlie has somehow found himself in one of the display rooms- one in which is set up like a bedroom, pillows strewn across the bed, a large rug in the fake room, and various other decors. He traces the pattern on a few fancy pillowcases with his grubby hands, his eyes sparkling. He traces the same pattern until his fingers are numb.

A distant noise breaks him from his trance.

“Dah-ay-loh-oo-tye…”

He quickly straightens, his neck craning to look for the source of the sound. It’s coming from the toy aisle.

He knows that voice anywhere.

Charlie dashes to the toy aisle. He pushes all the other boxes off the shelves, for there’s only one toy that noise could be coming from.

He picks up the box. He nearly tears it to shreds, focusing on the soft fur, glossy eyes, and calming aura.

Charlie has found a Furby.

“Ohhh…oh, you’re coming with me buddy,” He strokes the small tuft of hair on the small robot’s head.

“May-lah… may-may, noo-lah…”

Charlie squeezes the Furby in a tight hug. A squeal escapes his lips, and it gets louder and louder.

“Nee-may… noo-lah… day-kah-oo-nye…”

Charlie’s eyes flutter. His lip trembles. He can feel a tear fall down his face. And then he starts to giggle.

He doesn’t stop giggling.

“Sir? Are you alright?” A shorter woman, holding the hand of a young girl, reaches to touch Charlie’s shoulder.

The happy fool turns to face the mother. He pauses for a moment…a waterfall of crayon-coloured vomit comes out of his mouth, triggered by sheer joy.

“Dear lord,” the mother shouts, gripping her child’s hand tighter and running out of the aisle.

“Uh-oh…” the Furby sighs.

Another stream of bright vomit comes out as more gasps emerge from around the store.

INT: Alley House - Afternoon

Moonbeam Kiss

Mac and Dennis are standing by opposite sides of the mysteriously-stained bed. Dennis looks stiff, his jaw tensed as he looks to be lost in not-so-pleasant thought. Mac is scratching the back of his neck, his head tilted slightly downward as he shoots glances from under his lashes - from the bed to Dennis and from Dennis to the bed, waiting to see if Dennis will catch his eye. Dennis is fully aware of Mac’s idiotic glances right now, and is choosing not to look at him. Mac is convinced that Dennis simply does not see him shooting these uncomfortable looks. Little does he know, Dennis has had to master the art of vision through the corner of his eye over the years.

“So, like, how are we- how do you…?” Mac’s eyes are glossed over and he looks like a moron as he stares at Dennis, awaiting some form of guidance.

Dennis takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mac, you know you don’t have to make things uncomfortable? You’re aware it’s not a-uh, a constant necessity? Christ, I sleep on one side of the bed, you sleep on the other. Far as possible, though. I don’t want your- your goddamn fleas, or whatever Charlie was on about you having. My God.” Dennis- for a split second- loses his focus on trying not to meet eyes with Mac. He lets out a sharp breath of annoyance as he’s forced to see the image of Mac’s stupid, almost thoughtless expression.

Dennis spins around immediately as he hears the distantly approaching bickering of what he can only assume was Frank, Dee and Charlie returning. Never in his life has he been quite this relieved to hear any of those three, but he would rather be doing literally anything besides standing in half-silence with Mac by the revolting bed for any longer.

“Ohhh, goddammit Charlie, oh my god what is wrong with you? Ohh my god, what is wrong with you!” Dee’s voice is ultrasonic with disgust and horror as she rushes through the entrance, with what looks to be the colors of the rainbow splattered on her shirt. She speeds across the Alley House to rummage through her bag in the corner.

Dennis blinks dramatically as she flies past him, pulling a sort of “what the fuck?” expression at Frank, who was walking in. A sickly pale Charlie wobbles behind him. He seems to wear the same colors Dee has on her shirt, only he was gripping what looked to be a children's toy in his arms.

“Chawlie puked at the home store.” Frank looks exhausted.

“And on the ride home! On me, goddammit!” Dee screeches.

“They just don’t understand us, Grumblepants.” Charlie hiccups. He holds ‘Grumblepants’ close; the toy was already covered in rainbow-tinted sludge but he was not letting go.

“Did you get any furniture?” Mac places his hands on his hips, softly kicking the worn mattress on the floor.

“Oh totally! Look, we brought it all here! For you! NO WE DIDN’T GET ANY FURNITURE, DUMBASS!” Dee pulls a napkin from her purse and starts wiping herself off.

“I don’t really see what the big deal is, we can always go back.” Charlie whips out a Jazzberry Jam crayon from his pocket and starts chewing on it.

“We can’t go back, Charlie, we’ve been banned for life! For! Life! You dirtied a pillowcase, destroyed a toy aisle, threw up three times, traumatized some poor kid and her mother, and are still eating crayons! Where are you even getting these? I keep taking them away from you but you seem to have an endless supply!” Dee stomps over to Charlie, yanking the slobbery colouring tool from his mouth. “You! Can't! Eat! Crayons! You moron!”

“Deandra, calm down!” Frank waves his arms. “‘S not Chawlie’s fault! The kid pukes when he gets over excited!”

“Nobody does that!” Dee drops the nasty crayon and continues wiping herself.

“Go to your room!” Frank yells. His Alley House, his rules.

“Maybe I will!” Dee storms into her tiny barren space, yanking the curtain shut.

“Man, what’s her deal,” Charlie takes a Mango Tango crayon from his jacket pocket and slowly takes a bite.

EXT: ALLEY HOUSE - EVENING

Hotsy Totsy

Mac is on his way back to the Alley House from his apartment, with Dennis straggling behind in an attempt to look inconspicuous, not wanting to be seen with Mac, because he’s carrying his Ass Pounder 1000 prototype.

“Is this really a necessary thing you have to bring with you every time we go away?”

“Yes, Dennis. I am trying to liven up the place by bringing something personal, and since you refuse to bring your extensive and impressive sex tape collection, I am bringing something to compensate for your efforts- or lack thereof.”

“Well if you want something personal, just stick a rainbow flag up on the roof or something.”

Mac scoffs. “Whoa, thats a little too gay, even for me. God would sink this house if he saw that.” He continues pushing his ‘fist’ bike.

“Explain to me how a house built on land is gonna sink.”

“Uhhh, sinkholes! Duh! The bible talks about those all the time.”

“This is Philadelphia. Hell would freeze over before we have a sinkhole.”

“Den, you’re gonna have to stop joking about Hell, or we’re gonna end up there!”

“If you don’t think we’re already going to Hell, dude…” Dennis trails off.

Charlie interrupts their conversation as he rushes outside to greet them.

“Hey! You’re back! With a...bike? What the hell? I thought you were bringing back some decorations. Like my dog painting!”

“Nobody wants your stupid dog painting in the Alley House.” Dennis folds his arms.

“And plus, the Ass Pounder 1000 is like a jillion times more badass!”

“Oh god, is that your goddamn dildo bike, Mac? Why would you bring that into the Alley House-”

“It’s not a dildo, it’s a fist, and I told you, this thing is going to make us rich! We’re gonna be millionaires! Now, help me lift this thing into the loft.” Mac starts to lift the Ass Pounder 1000, expecting Charlie and Dennis to help him. They don’t.

Frank comes out of Dee’s space, and looks back at Dennis and Charlie. “Well, Chawlie, I convinced ‘er! We’re going to Deandra’s to get some more furniture. Dennis, wanna come?”

“Sure,” Dennis replies. Anything to get away from Mac for a bit.

The three of them head to Dee’s apartment, leaving behind two clueless members of the gang.

Mac gives up on lifting the Ass Pounder prototype, and puts it down gently on the floor, next to the door. He wouldn’t want to damage the bike.

Dee peers out from behind her curtain before leaving, groaning at Mac’s presence but less tense now that Charlie’s gone.

“Can you believe those guys? Taking my stuff. You know I didn’t even say yes? They just went ahead and did it anyway!”

“I totally get you man,” Mac stretches a bit. “I keep trying to get Dennis to invest in my Ass Pounder 1000 prototype, but he just won’t give in! And now he doesn’t even want to sleep with me. I’m a great person to sleep with!”

“We gotta start standing up to them more often.” A wave of sudden confidence comes over Dee’s face, and she gets closer to Mac. “I say we make ‘em regret throwing up on us, taking our stuff and not investing in our Ass Pounders! Truce?”

Dee holds out a hand, and Mac grips it firmly. They share smirks with each other.

“Truce,” Mac responds.

During their moment, another hand goes on top of the pair. The hand is filthy, and smeared with some type of bug.

“Truce,” this new person says, and both Mac and Dee look up at him with disgrace.

“God damn it, Cricket! We were doing our thing here!”

“I just figured since we were talking about being unappreciated, I’d join in, because I know that game! Felt right, y’know?” Cricket takes off his jacket and throws it on the ground, letting a cloud of dirt form around it.

“Nice place! Small, but not too small, and you could totally put a massage chair right there or something…”

“What are you doing here?” Mac crosses his arms and follows Cricket around the room.

“I was gonna use your sink to clean up a bit, but I noticed your new place and thought I might hang around. Even brought you a housewarming present, hold on-“ Cricket reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of white powder, tossing it at Mac. The bag hits him and bounces back to the floor.

“I’m not accepting cocaine as a housewarming present!” Mac’s stance shifts, and he’s clearly trying to intimidate Cricket out of the Alley House.

“More for me then,” Cricket shrugs and snatches the bag. Dee is visibly interested in this ‘gift’ as well.

“Hey, hey Crick- you mind uh- giving me some of that? Hm?”

Cricket holds the bag close. “No way!”

“It’s my housewarming present!” Dee states, raising her voice.

“Not anymore, you bitch! You do not get to taste my delicious drugs after letting your boyfriend here insult it!” Cricket reaches into the bag and gets some powder on his finger, slathering his gums in it.

“Woah, pump the brakes Crick, she’s not my girlfriend. She disgusts me. And plus, I don’t even like women!” Mac pushes Dee to the side.

As much as Cricket’s “gift” entices Dee, she’s had quite enough of people’s shit today, besides, she figures she can find a way to get it somehow. “Ugh, whatever!”

INT: Dee’s Apartment - Evening

Derby Day

After grabbing a few things from their own apartments, Frank, Dennis and Charlie enter Dee’s. Dennis shuts the door behind them and clasps his hands together.

“Right, we’re gonna need a lot of things. But don’t- don’t start grabbing just everything. We need to keep it uh, keep it spacious in there. I’d like this little holiday to feel somewhat…luxurious.” Dennis eyes Dee’s apartment. He could definitely do a better decorating job.

“Really, dude? Luxurious?” Charlie narrows his eyes at Dennis.

Dennis’ eyes shift up as if he was envisioning the Alley House for a moment. He tightens his lips in agreement that any pursuit of luxury in the Alley House is absurd.

Frank waddles over to Dee’s bedroom with Charlie following. They both begin rummaging through various drawers which probably- definitely- were not necessary to be rummaging through.

“Holy shit!” Charlie shrieks.

“Eh? What’s the matta’?” Frank spins around to face Charlie, who’s gripping a can of some sort.

“Dee’s bein’ watched, man! Come look at this! They’re watching her through this can disguised as this lady product!'' Charlie holds the can up to Frank.

“What? Where the hell are ya gettin’ this nonsense from!” Frank squints at the can, then up at Charlie.

“Says right here, Hairspy! You think they’ve got a camera in there? Or, or maybe each time she uses this she’s, like, unknowingly putting little cameras in her hair? I mean it is a hairspy and- Oh my god, Frank, that means each time Dee sees us, we’re being watched through the cameras in her hair, too! Shit! Oh my god, oh my god, dude, what are we gonna-”

“Chawlie, Chawlie, Chawlie! Relax! Says hairspray, not hairspy! ‘S a bottle of hairspray!” Frank traces his finger under the words on the can. It does, in fact, say hairspray and not hairspy.

Charlie blinks his eyes and opens and closes his mouth a couple times as if to respond, but doesn’t seem to know what to say. He instead resorts to scratching the back of his ear and offering a tight-lipped nod.

In the meantime, Dennis is on his knees under a small desk in the living room looking through, once again, various certainly unneeded items with little to no care for how much of a mess he’s making of Dee’s apartment. As he chucks records and boxes aside, something catches his attention. A white shoebox with only the word “BLACKMAIL” scrawled in messy handwriting across the side of it in black marker. Dennis cocks an eyebrow. He removes the lid to uncover what looks to be a variety of photos and papers, as well as a small brown journal. Dennis furrows his brows, his face turning pale as he picks up the book.

“Ohh, Dee you goddamn son of a BITCH! I had it for a week! I wrote in it for a week, at most! You bitch! You goddamn snooping bitch!” Dennis stammers to himself in rage, frantically flipping through the pages.

Dennis Reynolds has never had a healthy outlet for his emotions, nor any place to share his innermost personal thoughts. However, back in college, a 21-year-old Dennis concluded it wouldn’t really hurt to try projecting his thoughts somewhere for once. He only used the journal for a week or so before throwing it out, but 21 years with no outlet whatsoever can cause a man to quite literally lose it. A week was more than enough time to write a whole lot of things. Terrible things.

He begins scanning through the rest of the things at the bottom of the box - to his relief, the rest appears to be shit Dee had collected on Mac and Charlie. Embarrassing photos, scrapped love letters, basic stuff. As pissed as he is, he knows he’s incredibly lucky to have found the box, and he now has it all to himself.

Dennis is interrupted by a loud click-clacking sound approaching rapidly. As he scrambles to shut the box, he hits his head on the desk above him - but with no time to spare, he shoves the box behind him and turns to face the source of the click-clacking which has now stopped. To Dennis’ dismay, Frank and Charlie- both wearing bras on top of their clothes and covered in makeup- stand in front of him. Charlie seems to be the source of the noise, as he’s wearing red high-heels.

“Well?” Charlie tilts his chin down and looks at Dennis through his newly clumpy lashes. Frank mirrors Charlie.

Dennis’ mouth hangs open as he struggles to process the sight in front of him. He shuts his eyes tightly for a moment before speaking. “Well-“ he stammers. “Well? Fools, you look like fools. Hideous makeup, and what is going on here-?” He gestures towards the bras over their clothes. “Frank, your foundation is at least seven shades too pale, and Charlie, what is with that god-awful beret? Clearly, neither of you know how to apply lipstick, let alone put an outfit together! For god’s sake, you look like clowns!”

“Sexy clowns?” Frank asks, striking a pose that could only be described as ‘walrus-esque.’

“No clowns are sexy clowns!” Dennis huffs, before standing and pulling a small package of makeup wipes from his pocket. “These. Use them.”

Frank crosses his arms, his jewellery clanging together. “Chawlie, you know what to do.”

Charlie glares at Dennis for a second and grabs the wipes. He opens the package carefully, and shoves the wipes in his mouth.

Dennis looks on in utter horror as Frank and Charlie laugh maniacally in his face. “You guys are psychopaths…you have to be.”

“But we’re hot psychopaths!” Charlie cackles through a mouth full of wipes.

“You goddamn savages! Idiots! Savages!”

It’s dark out. Dee and Mac are armed with spray paint and cocaine, while Cricket is duct taped in the corner of the Alley House.

“This is an excellent idea, Mac. Really really really great. This’ll show em! I’m gonna cover the walls in dicks and stuff!”

“Loving your enthusiasm! But- one question- why did you need the cocaine?”

“Because Cricket wouldn’t fucking give me any and I got pissed!”

“Can you please untie me?” Cricket sobs in the corner of the Alley House’s main room.

“We’ve explained this a million times, Cricket, you’re the hostage! We’re gonna stage a break in, and spray paint all over the walls, and crowbar some shit!” Mac raises a crowbar above his head, unnervingly close to hitting Cricket with it.

“Let’s do this!” Dee pulls a ski mask over her face and begins to spray something onto the wall. Mac joins her with a smile.

“Fuck you, Charlie, and fuck you, Frank,” Dee continues to cover the walls in yellow paint.

“And fuck you-“ Mac begins.

The door suddenly opens.

“Dennis!” Mac hides the spray paint behind his back and shoves Dee behind the curtain, out of sight. She immediately starts shouting profanities at him.

Dennis doesn’t react to Mac, or the vandalism, or Cricket’s begs for help. He simply stutters the word “tired” and begins to wobble.

Mac drops the paint can and runs to Dennis’ side. He catches him before he can hit the ground, and he struggles to think of what to say.

“Are you okay Dennis- you hurt?” Mac scoops Dennis into his arms, giving him an ocular patdown to check for injuries.

“Dumbass Charlie,” Dennis whispers. “Made a mess of Dee’s place, ate my wipes, drained my energy…”

Almost on cue, the remaining two members of the gang burst through the door carrying Dee’s mattress.

“You guys look like drag queens! What the hell is wrong with you?” Mac has to use his face to express himself as his arms are full, and he imagines he looks pretty silly.

“We got yer’ furniture,” Frank laughs, ignoring Mac’s question and carrying the bed further into Dee’s space.

“Ignor’ em.” Dennis was never really like this too often, but sometimes he just got so exhausted he could just barely stand up.

“Do you need to go to bed?” Mac lowers his voice so Dennis wouldn’t get too overwhelmed. “Or do you need to eat something? Or-”

“Bed.” Dennis says sternly. His eyes flutter shut and Mac nods. He doesn’t want to admit it, but Dennis is difficult to carry, and it would be even harder to bring him up the ladder. But, as the rest of the gang argues and begins to set up the Alley House with furniture, Mac makes his way to the loft with Dennis in his arms.

“There you go, buddy,” Mac says as he lowers Dennis onto the mattress and covers him in one of Dee’s blankets. He notices that his sleeping friend is holding some kind of book, and figures it’d be harmless to read a bit. He pulls the curtain that separated the loft from the rest of the Alley House and begins to read.

The first few pages of the strange journal are normal:

Dear diary, I decided to write because I need to let some things out.

Dear diary, I’ve only been at college for two weeks and I want to go home.

Dear diary, I’m really drunk but I think I might have the perfect plan to burn this fucking college to the ground.

But when Mac flips to about halfway through the book, settling into bed, his face gets hot and he can't stop looking back at Dennis.

Dear diary…

I miss Mac. Everyone in this whole school is unbelievably mean to me. They don’t understand me at all. I want to go home.

I’ve been sort of buzzed the whole day, and with nobody to talk to I’ve been doing a lot of bullshit self reflection.

I think I might be in love with Mac. I don’t know if it’s just because I can’t get any girls in this stupid college, or if I’ve just had too many beers, or if I’ve let everyone else get to me.

But diary, I think I’m in love with him. And I am going to make sure that nobody ever finds out.

The next few pages were torn out. Mac knows he shouldn’t be reading it, but something inside him tells his hands to continue.

The handwriting on the rest of the book doesn’t look at all like Dennis’, and Mac can tell he definitely didn’t write it. Various phrases- all of which are offensive and made Mac sick to his stomach- take up the remaining space in the journal.

Finally, Mac reaches the end. The page is worn with teardrops and the ink is smeared.

Dear diary, I don’t think I’m ever going to express myself ever again.

“Jesus Christ,” Mac sets the book down on the floor next to him, trying to process his emotions.

He stays silent for a moment. He can hear the gang bickering outside. He wants to scream at them and scream at himself a little, too. But as Dennis wraps his arm around him those feelings go away.

“What’re you doing…” Dennis grumbles, still barely awake.

“Nothing. I’m not doing anything. Go to bed.”

“Thank you for takin’ care of me…” Dennis is slurring his words. Mac isn’t sure if he’s even conscious.

“It’s no problem.”

“You’re like- super warm, man.”

“Go to bed, Den.”

There’s a second or two where Dennis doesn’t respond.

“…I love you…like a lot, bro…”

Mac sighs, then smiles. “I love you too.”

“Wouldn’t it…be so funny…if we like.” Dennis dozes off for a split second. “Made out. Or something.”

Mac blushes but plays it off with a laugh. “Do you really think that’d be funny, or are you like- sleep induced hallucinating me as a smokin’ chick?”

“No, I’m for real…for real.”

“I don’t think we should make out.”

“Okay but- I do…” Dennis waves his arm around a little bit trying to find Mac’s face. When he does, he lightly slaps it as to say- why the fuck are we not making out right now?

Mac closes his eyes and presses his lips together tightly. He attempts to stop himself from blushing, maybe if he tries hard enough he can intimidate himself into submission.

And then he kisses Dennis’ forehead, and hears him giggle a bit.

“That was so gay. You’re such a loser, Mac. It’s kinda cute though. I guess.”

“Thanks, Dennis,” Mac says sarcastically. Dennis reaches his arm further around Mac, and he lets it happen. He turns to face Dennis and slowly wraps his arm around him as well. Maybe only having one bed isn’t so bad after all.

INT: Alley House - Morning

Mac, who looks to be either dead or asleep, has his arms wrapped around Dennis’ waist. Dennis blinks his eyes open slowly, and at first he’s not even sure where he is - that sort of half-asleep trance where one has no idea what’s going on at all, just that it is not time to get up yet. But it’s not long before Dennis feels odd, like he feels too comfortable, past a comfortable state, something Dennis is not used to whatsoever.

Starting with location; alright, Dennis is aware he’s in his own bedroom. No, wait, the Alley House - this is his first night in the Alley House. Wait a minute. As if he’d been splashed in the face, Dennis’ mind began to move quickly. Someone was hugging him close from behind. Not some girl he’d hooked up with, but Mac McDonald of all people. His roommate and best friend. Dennis shoots up like a bullet and struggles to untangle Mac’s arms from his waist. At this point, Mac was starting to gain consciousness too, rubbing his eyes in a sleepy daze.

“Mac, what the fuck, man!” Dennis stands towards the side of the bed, his eyebrows knit together as he tries desperately to replay the events of last night in his head.

“Whuh...what? Huh?” Mac is about as useful as an empty can right now.

“What do you MEAN huh? The fuck was that, man? Spooning me?” Dennis stammers, waving his hands wildly.

Mac has definitely woken up by now, but finds himself wishing he could snap back into sleep right then as he recollects his thoughts. Dennis also starts to recall very faintly what happened before they fell asleep, but it was so embarrassing he wasn’t quite willing to own up to anything he had said.

“Dennis, you- do you remember anything- from last night?” Mac scratches the back of his neck and gulps hard, suddenly regretting not telling Dennis everything he wanted to while he still had the chance.

“No- I do not remember! I don’t!” Dennis has gone bright red in the face as he circles around the room looking for his jeans and whatnot. “I’m going downstairs! Don’t- don’t- arghh!” He’s not sure what he’s trying to say to Mac, instead ending the conversation with an unintelligible, strangled noise.

Mac is left sitting on the bed, half his hair sticking up, looking entirely lost.

When Dennis goes down the ladder to the main area, he finds the rest of the gang passed out on the floor. Charlie’s face is covered in spray paint, while Dee and Frank had clearly gotten into Cricket’s drugs. Speaking of Cricket, he’s whimpering in the corner, duct taped and pleading to be let go. The Alley House’s walls had been covered in graffiti.

Dennis inhales deeply and runs a hand through his hair.

“EVERYONE UP. NOW.”

When nobody listens except Mac, who he shoos away, Dennis swears under his breath. He is losing patience, and fast.

“NOOOOOOOW!” He screams as loud as he can, using his “scary-Dennis” powers on everyone. That was what Charlie called it, anyway.

“Jesus Christ, Dennis,” Dee wakes up first, rubbing her head. “Quiet down-”

“Quiet down? You destroyed the House!” Dennis waves his arms wildly to gesture at the graffiti.

“That wasn’t us!” Dee sniffs. “It was- ah shit, what was it? Robbers! It was robbers!”

“Bullshit! That’s bullshit! Dee, you bitch!” By this point, Charlie is starting to wake up too.

“Hmgh?” Charlie still has Dee’s makeup on, although it’s smeared all over the pillow and blocked by bright orange paint. He’s still holding a crusty Grumblepants.

“Ah- and you tied up poor Cricket!” Dennis rushes over to tear the duct tape off of Cricket, but after getting it off his legs he decides he doesn’t want to be next to him for any longer than he has to. He let’s Cricket run off, with his hands still taped behind his back. “Why? Why did you do this?”

“Because you weren’t appreciating us, asshole!” Mac pulls back the loft’s curtain and shouts down at the group. He still hasn’t come down yet, because he doesn’t really know if he should. Dennis hasn’t told him it was okay.

“You did this too?” Dennis’ movements were getting more sporadic and violent.

“I didn’t do anything, but I was gonna! You don’t ever treat me with any respect! I do so much for you, and you won’t even invest a dollar into the Ass Pounder!”

“Yes! Because it’s stupid! I don’t want to waste my money on a dildo bike, Mac!”

“IT’S NOT A DILDO! IT’S A FIST! YOU BASTARD!” Mac nearly jumps down the ladder and runs to Dennis, fully ready to beat him up.

“Chill out, man,” Charlie rubs his eyes. He doesn’t entirely know what is going on, but what he does know was that Dennis woke him up from a really good nap and he is not happy.

“Shut up, Charlie! We’re in the middle of something!” Mac says, immediately turning back to Dennis and spewing random threats he knows he would never carry out.

“Yeah, shut up, Charlie! I still smell like barf!” Dee adds.

“Don’t try involving yourself in this!” Mac’s voice goes high pitched, and Dennis nods in agreement. “You don’t get to be involved!”

“Yeah, Dee, stupid bird.” The spray paint Charlie had huffed hasn’t quite worn off yet and it isn’t hard to tell. He starts to reach for more, but can’t find any. “Why are you even still mad at me? We like totally bonded or whatever when we spray painted the Alley House n’ stuff- and Frank even brought some pre-boiled denim back just for you-”

Dee and Mac snap back towards Charlie, Dee’s eyes rimmed with red. “No one cares about your stupid denim, Charlie!”

Faint rumbling can be heard from the outside of the Alley House, the gang pay no mind to it, or just can’t hear it over all the fighting.

Frank sits up from the daze he’s in on the floor. “Wha- what’s all the yappin’ about? My ears a’ splitting.”

Dee mumbles under her breath, “Mac and Dennis are having a lover’s quarrel.”

Dennis tenses up and his face somehow, somehow manages to get more red than it already is. And at that moment, as if he knows Dennis doesn’t want to respond, Mac shouts “We are not lovers! I swear to god, Dee!”

“What he said! I cannot fathom how you still think that I would ever get together with Mac! Mac, for god’s sake!” Dennis can see Mac’s disappointed expression from the corner of his eye, but he soon pushes it down with a swallow and a nod.

“You’re sleeping in the same be-eeed,” Dee taunts, waving a finger near Dennis’ chest. “Gay City, population you!”

“Shut up, Dee! Shut the hell up!” Mac shouts.

“You’re literally gay, dude, I don’t see what the big deal is,” Charlie sniffles. He’s still primarily focused on finding more spray paint, but he’s still technically a part of this fight.

“Internalized misogyny, Chawlie, they get it all the time.”

“That’s not even the right term! It’s internalized homophobia,” Dennis begins to argue, but a crack of loud thunder interrupts him before he can. “Jesus H. Christ, these storms get worse every damn year.”

“Don’t change the subject! How exactly do you know the right term?” Dee continues to taunt Dennis.

“Because I’m well educated on the social issues of today!” Dennis places his hands on his hips, his foot tapping quickly.

“And I appreciate you for that, Den. I really do.” Mac smiles genuinely and places a hand on Dennis’ shoulder.

“Don’t get all mushy, you stupid idiot stupid-ass!” The tingly feeling Dennis gets in his stomach whenever Mac calls him ‘Den’ cancels out his ability to dish out smart insults. He moves away from Mac.

“Someone’s blushin’.” Frank cracks his neck and pulls a flask from his pocket.

“Don’t say that like I’m still in highschool!” Dennis snaps. “And I am not- blushing!”

“I don’t even get why we’re fighting over this. We all know that Dennis and I hate each other and would rather like- eat scorpions than cuddle or kiss or anything.” Mac shrugs.

“It’s crazy how much I don’t believe you and you’re lying right now.” Charlie finds some leftover spray paint and attempts to roll over the back of the couch to get it.

“Mhm. Yeah. Are you guys like, boning? Or just smashing faces?” Dee asks.

“That’s disgusting! We aren’t doing any of that! I swear to god Dee, I’m going to kick your gangly ass and use your body as a rug!”

“Don’t threaten yer sister.” Frank takes a sip from the flask and wipes the white powder from under his nose.

“I can do what I want! You’re not even my real dad! And I wish Dee was never born, so that she wouldn’t have to be my sister!” He regrets his words almost the instant they come out of his mouth. Dee gasps, and it sounds genuine. The pouring rain outside only seems to get louder.

“C’mon, Den, that’s a bit too far.” Mac glances down at the floor, crossing his arms. He can feel the air in the House gradually getting cooler.

“Yeah dude, that’s like a new low. And you’ve gone pretty low, or whatever.” Charlie’s barely listening at this point. He’s probably just going along with whoever talks first.

“I don’t even care at this point. Just leave me alone. Go open the bar or something.” Dennis pinches the bridge of his nose and waves everyone off.

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll open the bar. Charlie, you’re coming with me.” Dee grabs Charlie by the wrist and pulls him off the couch, dragging him to the pub.

“I’m comin’ with ya,” Frank downs whatever’s left in the flask and follows behind them. “I don’t wanna be left alone with these two.”

“And I’m going to take a nap. Lord knows I need one.” Dennis trudges over to the ladder and up to the loft, with barely enough energy left to get him there.

“Den- Dennis, come on,” Mac follows Dennis up. The air of the loft feels damp.

“Oh my God, Mac! Do you have to cling to me like a child any time I do anything? BEGONE!”

“I just don’t get why you’re so mad at me! I know I gave Dee the idea to wreck up the Alley House, but I didn’t actually do anything! Because you showed up!” Mac fails to realize that doesn’t really clear him from anything. “And about the whole gay-conspiracy thing, while I am really gay I am not gay for you! Scout’s honor!”

“It’s not about the Alley House and it’s not about the ‘gay-conspiracy!’ I couldn’t give two shits about that!”

“Then what is it about?”

Dennis puts his hands on his hips and shoots Mac a condescending look. “What do you think it’s about, Mac? Hm?”

Mac thinks for a second…then realizes. “Is it about-” He checks behind the loft’s curtain to make sure the gang is gone. “Last night?”

“Of course it is!” Dennis sticks his arms out. He is absolutely dumbfounded that it took Mac this long to realize. “What the hell were you doing? A grown man should not be spooning his best friend!”

“I don’t- I don’t even really know? You just sorta-“

“I didn’t do anything, I can tell you that!” Dennis interjects. He vaguely remembers the last moments of the night before, but he won’t admit it no matter what. He’s just lucky he can blame it all on Mac. “Y’know, this is fucked up even for you. You promised you wouldn’t make the bed thing weird!”

“I never promised that- but even still, it was totally consensual cuddling. You were all like ‘we should kiss’ and I was like ‘man that’s kinda awkward so I’ll just give you a kiss on the forehead’ and you said-“

“Wait wait wait wait wait,” Dennis interrupts Mac for the millionth time. He seems genuinely shocked- he has no memories of that part. “You kissed me?”

“Again, only on the forehead! You totally wanted to like, French kiss me, you shouldn’t be making such a scene! You’re making me feel like a bad guy!”

“You are a bad guy, dude! I didn’t actually say any of that and you know it.” As Dennis wanders around the loft, he notices something on the floor.

He does a double take and goes over to pick it up. It’s his journal, left exactly where Mac put it.

“Did you read this?”

“No. . .Yes. I’m sorry! I didn’t think it was your journal, man!”

Dennis throws the book to the ground and closes his eyes. “Goddamnit, Mac, you bastard,” his voice cracks and he moves to the bed. Almost as if Mac isn’t there, Dennis sort of just breaks down right on the mattress.

Mac reaches out to try to comfort him, but Dennis swats his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Mac had never seen Dennis like this before. He hadn’t cried once, not that he had seen, and when he was emotional it was almost always scary. Not this. Mac’s left to watch as he silently weeps. If it was any other situation, Mac would think he was faking, but as much as he wants to believe that- he can’t. It’s one of the most uncomfortable feelings he’s ever experienced.

Every few seconds, Dennis lets out a pained whimper or a shaky breath. Mac is still standing next to him. He messes with his hands. He has no idea what to say. He’s never been in this situation before. The storm is getting worse outside, shaking the small Alley House. A dribble of water pokes through a tiny crack in the ceiling.

“Dennis, I- I don’t think this will help anything, but I’m not mad at you. I sorta- I sorta feel the same way? I guess?” Mac takes a seat next to Dennis on the bed.

Neither of them say anything for a while. As minutes pass, Mac gets more nervous. His mind starts racing. Did he say the right thing? Can he ever come back from this? Oh god, what if Dennis hates him even more now?

Dennis keeps his head in his hands, but his tears have stopped.

“Are you- kidding me?” He finally says, looking back at Mac.

“Whuh?” Mac scoots back on the bed, a droplet splashing against his forehead. He wipes it off, confused, but overall ignores it.

“You really think that’s just going to make everything magically okay? You read through my stuff! That was personal, Mac! You think I was just- ready to tell you all that shit? No!” He’s screaming like he normally would, but his demeanour is off-putting. He looks more broken than angry.

“I said I’m sorry, what more do you want? And I’m not the one who was talking about making out and being in love with me and shit! You can’t do that and then try to pin it on me!” Mac stands up in an attempt to assert dominance.

“I don’t care what I said! I take it all back! Why do you think I was trying to put all this shit on you? You’re the gay one!”

“Oh, yes! Reeeaaal mature, dude! I bet you even remember everything from last night! And you’re lying!” Mac points right at Dennis, like an elementary schooler trying to embarrass someone.

“Oh, my god, obviously! Did you not hear what I just said? You are the stupidest man on the planet! You have to be!” Dennis stands as well, picking his journal back up and leaving the loft. A steady stream follows down the back wall, as Mac follows.

“This argument isn’t over!” He calls.

As Mac and Dennis continue to yell at each other, Charlie comes back from the pub.

“What’s all the ruckus, guys? You’re scaring Grumblepants.” He says, but Dennis and Mac ignore him and keep fighting.

Dee and Frank walk in shortly after, their heels splashing against small puddles formed on the floor of the House.

“Absolutely none of your goddamn business, you fucking morons! Imbeciles, all of you! I cannot be around any of you! I can’t trust you with anything whatsoever, you are all beyond insufferable!” Dennis is shaking with fury.

His voice dies down, and instead of the usual ensemble of cacophonous voices erupting from everyone, the only noise to be heard is a low rumble.

Dennis lowers his fists, narrowing his eyes in concern. The gang all share worrisome glances for a moment.

Murky water rapidly seeps through the entrance of the Alley House, and the rumbling only grows louder. The House shakes, the ceiling visibly crumbling as the rain continues flowing into the House. It reaches above their shoes, and when Frank tries to move, his feet sink into the floor.

“Ah, shit!” He yells out as the water begins to rise, though not alarmingly fast, as Frank would like to put it.

Charlie lets out a raspy shriek, clutching Grumblepants close to his chest.

“Ohh my God! Goddamnit!” Dee screeches and grips the wall behind her.

Mac is shaking his head swiftly, a look of utter fright painted on his face. “Ohh man, this is the end! The big man’s finally had it with us! This is because of the kiss, isn’t it?” He falls to his knees, clasping his hands together and shutting his eyes firmly.

“The kiss? The kiss? Oh, my God. Oh, you guys totally kissed, that’s what this is all about. I knew it! I fucking knew it!” Dee points a hand back and forth between Mac and Dennis, her other hand still gripping the wall behind her.

Dennis lets out an immensely pained noise, something between a wail and a scream.

Mac’s eyes widen and he swallows hard. The word “Shit.” spells out in his mind in big, bold lettering.

“NO, No, I didn’t say - you didn’t hear - we didn’t! It’s,” Mac stammers, shaking his hands dismissively. He has to raise his voice significantly over the deafening rumbling and gushing of water.

“We did NOT kiss!” Dennis screams.

“So explain Mac bringing up a kiss? I know what I heard-“

“It was just on the forehead!” Dennis snaps defensively.

“You said that didn’t matter! Ohhh, when we die here you’re going to hell!” Mac spits at Dennis.

Charlie is ramming himself against the door, but it doesn’t seem to be opening. He stops for a moment, entirely overwhelmed by the bickering and frustration of the seemingly jammed door.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! OH MY GOD! OUR HOUSE IS FLOODING! THE DOOR IS JAMMED! AND THAT’S YOUR CONCERN RIGHT NOW?” Charlie holds his hands over his ears for a moment before something seems to dawn over him, and he scrambles to look for a can of spray paint.

“We’re all gonna die! This is the end! We’re all gonna die here!” He hollers, punctuating his cries with huffs of the paint.

“Chawlie’s right, we’re all gonna die he’a like cattle! I’M GOIN’ OUT WASTED!” Frank looks to be more accepting of the circumstances in comparison to the rest of the gang, already downing a can of beer.

“Jesus Christ, fuck it, whatever!” Dee makes her way through the water which is almost at her waist by now and grabs for the remains of the cocaine from last night.

Mac and Dennis lock eyes as chaos rises around them, as does the water, which has now reached a point where it’s near-impossible to stand feet on the ground.

“Dennis, I’m sorry man! I really, really am! I don’t wanna die on bad terms with you dude! That would really suck for the both of us I think!” Mac half-shouts over all the noise, now fighting to keep his head above the water.

Dennis stares at him for a moment as he swims in place. He thinks Mac looks stupid right now. Incredibly stupid. Like a pleading dog in a kiddy pool. But that’s not what matters right now, right now they are in the midst of a flood, living their very last moments together.

Dennis tightens his lip and winces. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. Forget it, Mac, It’s whatever.” His words sounded colder than he’d intended, but he wasn’t about to say anything even remotely more sentimental than that.

The two stare for a moment, treading water in the shared uncomfortable silence.

“Guh?”

“Oh, my God. I forgive you! Is that what you need to hear? God, you’re stupid.”

“Really? Oh, man.” Mac beams for a moment before clearing his throat.

Charlie, Frank and Dee are yelling over each other as they tread water, several cans of beer bouncing just above the surface of the water around their heads.

“I don’t wanna die like this, I’m too young! I’m not ready to go yet! Not with you guys!” Dee cries out and starts splashing her way over to the door of the Alley House.

“The thing won’t budge no matter what, I tried! We’re stuck, Dee!” Charlie calls out to her.

To everyone’s surprise, it opens as soon as she tries.

The water descends out of the House, pushing the gang along with it. They hit the ground with a thud, as they all collectively groan- in pain and strange relief.

“OHH, GODDAMNIT, CHARLIE! IT WAS A PULL DOOR, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PULL IT OPEN! YOU NEARLY DROWNED US WITH YOUR IDIOCY!” Dee squawks.

“Ya’ve gotta be kiddin’ me, Chawlie!”

“Jesus Christ, dude!”

“Goddamnit!”

They all shove past each other, scrambling to get inside.

“WAIT!” Charlie lets out a full shriek.

“Oh my God, what could it possibly be now Charlie?” Dee sneers as she watches him push his way back into the Alley House.

Charlie scans the surface of the cloudy water, his breathing quick and panicked.

“GRUMBLEPANTS!”

Charlie grabs ahold of the toy which seems to barely be in-tact anymore.

“Ay-way…”

Water sputters out of it.

“We’ll get you cleaned up at home, Mr. Grumblepants, don’t you even worry!” Charlie squeezes the toy tightly as he makes his way back out of the door.

“Ah-noo…”

Charlie is greeted by the gang all looking disappointed, but too defeated to complain. Charlie notices their expressions quickly morph into wide-eyed terror. He spins around only to see the Alley House collapsing entirely right as he’d gotten out.

They all gape in shock.

INT: Paddy’s Pub - Day

Take The Plunge

The gang's all safely back in the pub, drying off with old towels from the basement. Dennis is behind the bar, pouring a generous fill of low-quality beer into a glass. He slides it to Charlie, who hasn’t been drying off and instead is cradling Grumblepants. Every so often the Furby makes a buzzing noise, and Charlie shushes it. The rest of the gang have already been nursing their beers for a while.

“Am I tha only one who was against this ol’ Alley House thing from tha start?” Frank sets his drink down on the counter.

Dennis is still out of it from his fight with Mac and everyone earlier, and shoots a meager glare at Frank. However, a fire is sizzling uncomfortably in the back of his throat, and he can feel his hands clench till his knuckles are white- holding back a comment that would stir up more than he could handle. It was your idea in the first place, Frank.

“Whatever, we can all agree it was a huge failure,” Dennis replies. He stares into the leftover beer in his hands, shaking his head and tipping back the rest. “We’ll just move on from it like we always do.”

“I just don’t understand, man,” Charlie says, gently placing Grumblepants on a bar stool. “We put our sweat, tears and blood into that Alley House, and that storm took it out like that.” Charlie snaps his fingers.

“I told you dude, God has it out for us. Like c’mon, a storm and a flood? That’s fuckin’ biblical, man.” Mac finishes his beer and decides he needs something stronger, so he searches for whatever cheap whiskey he can find.

“Or we’re just bad at construction.” Dennis says. “The House didn’t even have a good foundation. A light breeze could’ve knocked it over.”

“It was pretty scary either way. It was totally filling up with water like crazy. We shoulda like- storm proofed it. That woulda worked for sure.”

“Storm proofin’s too expensive. Alley Houses are ‘sposed to be cheap, Chawlie. My pockets were already hurtin’ from having to buy all the equipment.”

“My pockets are gonna hurt from having to replace all my furniture.” It takes a moment for Dee to realize just how bad the financial damage is going to be. She quickly drinks her beer and gestures for Mac to pour her a glass of whiskey.

“Great! So that’s a Dee problem, aaand she’s gonna have to deal with it.” Mac shoots a condescending smile at Dee as he finishes pouring and hands her the glass.

Dee sneers at him. “Oh, right, okay, we’re doing that now? Right back to being a dickwad to Dee everyone! After she was the one to figure out how to open the goddamn door to save all our asses!”

“We don’t owe you jack, Dee.” Dennis rubs his temples, feeling a headache coming on already.

“Yes, you do! I saved you all after Charlie’s stupid mistake!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, how the hell was I supposed to know it was a pull-door? At least I was trying to get us out of there instead of arguing about whatever the hell you guys were on, a kiss?” Charlie waves one hand in the air, the other still latched onto a soaked and dirty Grumblepants.

“It wasn’t even a proper kiss!” Mac slams a hand against the counter.

“Ohh my God, I don’t even care! I do not care! Whatever it is the two of you have going on, I sincerely do not give a damn!” Dee shouts in response.

“Shit, I thought we knew this already? Man, I don’t think any of us care. In fact, I’m happy for you guys.” Charlie looks over at Mac and Dennis. Dennis holds his head in his hands.

“Amen,” Dee says, and she clinks drinks with Charlie. “I don’t care if you’re gay, you’re both just as annoying.”

“Well, no! I mean, not saying I’m not gay, just- Dennis and I aren’t together! Not like that.” Mac tries to meet eyes with Dennis, but Dennis is still unresponsive and covering his face.

Ignoring Mac’s attempt at deflecting, Frank chimes in. “Yeah, it really doesn’t matta’ what gendah ya’ are. Men, broads, whateva Chawlie is. We all mess with dudes. If Dennis and Mac’ve got whateva goin’ on, why should we give a shit?” Frank takes a swig of his beer.

Mac squints his eyes for a second as he processes what he may have just found out about Frank. He looks over to Dennis again, who looks back this time. He looks flustered, but defeated instead of angry or defensive, which is a rare sight to see.

“Wait, I’m a gender? Are you saying I’m a gender?” Charlie raises his brows in amazement.

“What? No, I think Frank meant- screw it. You know what? Yes, Charlie, you are a gender.” Dee snickers.

“Oh man, that’s awesome! I’m a gender!” Charlie grins with excitement at his discovery.

Mac chuckles and shakes his head before looking back over at Dennis, whose eyes are fixed on a spot on the counter. He almost looks to have loosened up a bit, which puts Mac at ease.

Just as Mac looks away, Dennis’ hand wanders to the lonely space of Mac’s, slipping his fingers around the roughened edges. They’re hidden from the world’s gaze, but Dennis feels a thrill and a spark of freedom, with his hand sandwiched in such a gentle hold. He glances at Mac, a glint in his eye.

Maybe they were bad for each other- all the toxicity festering over the years. The florid backhanded compliments oozing through them. The lying and cheating and tearing each other limb from limb for any semblance of truth. The bludgeoned cars, and gasoline and hospital visits. The kind of people who made the worst of every good situation. He looks out towards the gang. Dee’s joking with Charlie- who still holds on dear to his Furby- genuine smiles gracing their features. Frank jazzing about God knows what, to whoever’s listening. They’d surely break out into a fight within the week. He glances back to Mac- he hopes not. His lips tug ever slightly, revealing a modest smile- he covers it up with his free hand.

He feels strangely at home in the chaos. At home with Mac.

[glennjaminhow]

“You’re only getting away with pampering me because I don’t have enough voice left to tell you to go away.”

Christmas Eve 2009 Philadelphia, PA 7:30 PM

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the apartment, not a creature was stirring, not even a Dennis.

Because Dennis is curled like a cat on the sofa, soft green blanket pulled up to his chin. He’s half-asleep, listening to the crackle of the portable fireplace and watching the snowflakes fall, encasing Philly in a beautiful white glow.

He moved the couch earlier to face their fire escape and give Dennis a better view of the world outside, the world he’s been cooped away from for the past two weeks while he recovers from double ear infections that turned into laryngitis a few days ago. Mac isn’t sure how it’s humanly possible for one dude’s immune system to be so unbelievably shitty. But, given how little Dennis eats and how generally weak his pussy ass is, his germs have gotta be like ten thousand times more germy than the normal person’s germs.

Mac doesn’t get sick because he never gets sick. He’s got the body of an ox. A strong, buff ox.

Anyway, Den’s been going crazy around here, bored out of his goddamn mind. They’ve watched all their DVDs four times each. They’ve marathoned Lord of the Rings and Indiana Jones and the Alien and Predator series twice, all with the captions on because Dennis still can’t hear for shit. Seeing him with cotton balls stuffed in his ears has been real entertaining, but first the dude can’t hear and then he can’t talk. He’s congested and cranky and not even a patented back massage from yours truly can help. Fuck, Mac even tried giving him a handy, but Dennis just scowled and pushed Mac away. Same goes with kissing or dry humping or nibbling at his neck like Dennis likes.

Which Mac guesses he understands. Dennis isn’t feeling good, so hand jobs and stuff can’t feel good either, right?

So that’s why Mac’s been waiting on him hand and foot, serving him bowl after bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup and fluffing the pillows behind his head. He’s been keeping the apartment blazingly hot, to the point where it’s 80-something degrees in here, and he’s taken up just wearing boxers and sleeveless tees in December. He makes sure Dennis takes regular baths to wash the toxins off his skin, all while shampooing and conditioning his hair because Dennis sure as shit isn’t going to do it by himself while he’s feeling like this.

“You’re only getting away with pampering me because I don’t have enough voice left to tell you to go away,” Dennis wrote in his notebook a couple days ago after his third fever-induced bath that day, showing it to Mac; Mac just rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through Dennis’ hair instead. Eventually, Dennis settled in for the afternoon, falling asleep with his face buried in the crook of Mac’s neck and snoring so painfully loud that Mac nearly smacked him but didn’t have the heart to.

The last two weeks have been a pain in the ass, but not because of Dennis, not really. Sure, the guy’s whiny and irritable, but given how fucking sick he’s been, Mac is honestly surprised he hasn’t been 8,000 times more of a dick. He guesses it’s because at first he couldn’t hear himself enough to insult Mac, and now he can’t verbalize it.

But the shittiest thing about this experience is that it’s Christmas, and Dennis is sick, and Dennis hates Christmas enough as it is. Mac went all out with decorating this year, but that’s only because he’s been cooped up too, seeing as the gang doesn’t exactly function the best without them around. Who knows what the hell they’ve been doing since Mac and Dennis holed themselves up in their apartment, but he doesn’t care. He’s been trying to make the holidays special. He gracefully put up 7 mistletoes, hanging them in places he knows he’ll be able to kiss Dennis whenever he wants. There’s a Christmas tree – fake, but still – and lights and that garland shit that tracked little pieces of paper shit everywhere.

It’s Christmas Eve, and Mac figures it’s time to put his plan in motion.

He finishes plating the pancakes and eggs. He puts a couple dots of maple syrup in the middle of Dennis’ pancakes, knowing he’ll throw an absolute bitch fit if there’s too much; Dennis won’t even touch pancakes with too much maple syrup. Mac drowns his in syrup because it’s so fucking good, but Dennis is like a different species, and Mac wants to make tonight special for him. He makes Dennis’ coffee just the way he always does – a ton of French vanilla creamer and a pinch of sugar. Mac takes his black because he isn’t a pussy.

Mac carries Dennis’ food and coffee over to their currently misplaced couch. He sets the stuff on the heater and takes in the sight of Dennis, illuminated by the white of the falling snow outside. His cheeks are flushed red, and there’s a shine of sweat on his forehead. Mac will get his antibiotics after food, just like he’s been doing since they switched Dennis’ prescription because the ear infections were resisting them.

For now, Mac shakes his knee gently. “Den,” he whispers.

Dennis slowly blinks awake as Mac keeps rubbing his knee. His eyebrows scrunch, and he opens his mouth to talk, but he knows firsthand no noise will come out; his voice is shot to shit.

“I made breakfast,” Mac says softly. “I know it’s like pretty late, but you need to eat, and it’s Christmas Eve, and I thought, ‘hey, Christmas Eve calls for pancakes!’ I also made scrambled eggs too ‘cuz I know how much you like ‘em.”

Dennis eyes him skeptically.

“They’re not burnt. Promise.”

They’re a little burned.

But Dennis takes the plate anyway. Mac sets a black plastic tray over Dennis’ lap. Mac puts the coffee and napkins there while Dennis settles the plate with trembling hands. He pokes at his food while Mac situates himself on the couch beside him. Once Mac starts pretty much swallowing without chewing because he’s the next level of hungry, Dennis follows suit, daintily cutting up his pancakes and scooping eggs onto his fork.

The only noises heard are the crackling from the fireplace and the scraping of utensils. They’ve been having quiet moments like this a lot more often, and it’s refreshing from their usual lifestyle of kicking ass and planning schemes and drinking till the sun comes up. Since they started hooking up, things have been better, and Dennis seems so much happier.

Mac’s thankful for that.

Dennis slurps his coffee until there’s nothing more than a dribble left in the mug. His plate is half gone.

“Want some more?” Mac asks as he finishes the rest of his eggs. “I got like a shit load left, dude.”

Dennis shakes his head. He looks tired, like he could fall asleep any second. He shivers.

Mac moves the tray to the floor. “C’mere, Den,” he whispers.

Dennis lays his head on Mac’s shoulder immediately. Mac wraps him up in his arms and kisses the top of his sweaty hair.

“T-Thank you,” Dennis forces out, long after Mac thought he’d fallen back asleep.

Mac snaps out of his snow-watching trance; fuck, Philly really is beautiful when it snows.

“For what?” he asks. He wants to tell Dennis to save his voice and rest up, but he doesn’t.

Truth be told, he’s missed Dennis’ voice a lot. Like so much more than he thought possible.

Dennis grabs Mac’s hand and rubs his thumb over his knuckles; Mac practically vibrates out of his skin. “Taking ca-care of me… Loving me.”

His voice is a scratchy, garbled train wreck, and, honestly, Mac can barely understand him, but the words are sincere. Ever since they started banging, Dennis has been more and more open with him. Less angry. More willing to resolve their fights without resorting to low blows and scratches. When they get upset, they talk. They hold hands. They make out. They play footsies under the covers. They just… get each other.

Mac knows this can’t go on forever. Knows he’s living in sin and eventually must go back on God’s path. But these few kind words from Dennis fill his heart with happiness and the sense that maybe – just maybe – this can be sustained.

“You don’t have to thank me, Den. I love you. I want to take care of you.”

Dennis nods and snuggles in closer, tangling their fingers together and nudging the back of his head into Mac’s collarbone.

Eventually, Christmas Eve turns into Christmas Morning. They fall asleep on the couch, Dennis with his head in Mac’s pillowed lap and curled into his stomach and Mac slouched to the side against a mountain of blankets.

Snow continues to fall, and the artificial fire burns as bright as the love in Mac’s heart.

[sickofthistoxicshit]

Ok, so I finally watched the episode - (I slept in really late today, it was amazing)  and learned how to do an under the cut - because this is going to be very long - I will not start with buddie, or how sweet exhausted Madney are, or how I feel bad for Albert who has the same grievances as Buck did while recuperating, or how I was happy to see more of Mrs. Lee.

I want to start by how completely shattered I was by watching Nia leave, I literally had to pause because I was crying like a baby and couldn’t bring myself to move on and change the mood. 

I am happy that Nia’s mom is just a woman who had trouble to provide for herself and her baby, especially with the pandemic hitting around that time, and that Nia will be happy and safe with her mom, but I was absolutely heartbroken for Hen and Karen and even while I’m writing this I’m tearing up again.

I do love that while Karen managed to bring Hen around to foster kids again, I actually asked out loud “what about Denny?” - I love that they sat down with him and asked for his opinion, because this involves him too. 

Which is btw, in complete parallel to Edmundo not asking or talking to Christopher about how he feels about him dating again, or bringing her to the house to crash movie nights - because it involves him too and we get no resolution on that particular end to this day.

I have to say that the side stories, while emotional in nature - the flashbacks of complete strangers felt unnecessary - and after pretty much crying my eyes out for Nia and the Wilsons, the side stories felt like a waste of time.

Watching Athena and May finally ‘have it out’ over May’s suicide attempt from S1 was so overdue, and I’m glad we got to see it. Athena’s overreaction and May’s lack of understanding where her mom is coming from was a stepping stone for Athena to have a talk with Bobby that allows her to forgive herself if only a little and for May to show growth on two fronts - 

1. she gave a second chance to a high school bully. - High school is a breeding ground for bullies and victims, it’s only when we see the world through the eyes of an adult, especially through May’s who’s working in dispatch and having weekly therapy sessions - I love that she is being the bigger person here and allows that horrible girl - who may have changed into a better adult - another chance.

2. Working in dispatch also allows May to go back to the worst day of her mother’s life and hear just exactly what happened, and that allows a second kind of growth - she shows compassion and understanding towards Athena, she now knows what happened and how her steel made mom shattered to pieces because she thought she lost her daughter. - I love how May comes into the house and just hugs her mom and apologizes - the story was very well written.

Madney - was super adorable, my own sister recently had a second baby, brother to a 2yo toddler who’s new favorite word is ‘No’, so the exhausted parents sight was very familiar. 

I love that both of them returned to work, personally I don’t know if I would have been able to leave so quickly after giving birth (here maternity leave is 3 months most mothers extend to 6 months or even a year.) but it’s good, in my eyes, that both parents got to get back to normal life, breath some air outside crying, feeding and diaper changes.

Also important to remember - it really does take a village, and I’m glad they showed it here too. I absolutely adore Mrs. Lee, she’s a sweetheart. I found it so funny when Chimney, in his exhausted state said “strangers” and seconds later realized he insulted his adopting mother, I really laughed a lot. 

I also love that Albert moved in with the Lee’s, he will finally have a place where he will not feel guilty about lying and resting while the rest of the house members deal with a newborn baby on top of everything. I hope his return to normal will be easier than Buck’s. On the plus side he’s not working yet so no one can tell him no. ;)

Buddie had me breathing new life this episode, the “she looks like Buck when he’s gassy” (like dude why do you know that?), the “I’ll take it as a complement” retort and Eddie’s fond smile response.

Eddie looking to Buck with the saw with a confident look, to get the lady who was unfortunately pinned to the donkey off with the door. I have to point out that Eddie’s uncertain, sympathetic, I know how you feel look, when the lady talked about no matter what she does it’s wrong - giving me all the signs I need to know that things with Christopher are not ok. and exactly as the fics tell it, Chris is not happy with his dad’s life’s choices right now and it bleeds into everyday life stuff too.

The quarter life crisis- I loved that call!! - Buck says it’s a real thing from experience - God knows we all saw it (also I may have had it myself 😂) and Eddie (or was it Ryan?) laughing again with that fond look of his when it involves Buck.

And the best part  - can’t you both be good cop? - Buck and Eddie’s simultaneous “NO” was so Awesome!! I watched it again and again and again and laughed a lot. But what stood out the most it that no one retorts that Buck is not a parent, or ask how he could possibly know that, there was only slightly confused look from Chimney, who looked thoughtful 0.01s later and a Bobby knows look, Hen doesn’t even dignifies these moments with a response anymore because she definitely knows! 

Also loved Eddie flirting with Buck a moment later saying “curious to see what your definition of too much discipline is.” - Yes my loves that is very much flirting, there will be no discussion here. - I love that Buck’s response is a smile and a tilt of the head to the side, you can see Buck’s expression even under the mask.

It wasn’t a lot of buddie, but the scenes themselves were huge, in my eyes buddie is alive and well and if you can’t see it, I advise you to go to station 19, check out the brother connection between Miller and Gibson, or Strike Back’s Scott and Stonebridge, or Teen Wolf Scott and Stiles then compare it to Eddie and Buck’s, and only after you’ve done that come back and tell us we’re seeing things 🙃

I would have addressed that poor excuse for a scene (1-2 seconds was it?) between Edmundo and she who I refuse to name (rebounds are usually forgotten very quickly, I already forgot her 😈) but the only 3 things worth mentioning is that: 

1. That scene in the promo where she cuddles up to him and looks happy? They cut it in editing.

2. Christopher interrupts them, as always. She allows him to join them even though it’s a school night and she didn’t even look at Eddie before she did.

And last but not least - The amazing Christopher in being seated, By Eddie, between them. - Also he (Eddie) does not look happy about it, he’s fond with Christopher, but looks confused as hell by her allowing it without asking Eddie. 

Now Buck - Buck would have looked to Eddie, and should the answer would have been no, he would have bargained, as we know he does when he babysat last time, and Buck would have gotten Christopher back to bed. - Just saying.

Overall it was a good episode, I liked most of it, kind of reminded me of S1 energy, it felt good. (you know, except for the obvious)

[stusbunker]

AGA: Spit It Out

A Supernatural Denny AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other Characters: John and Mary, Jody, Garth, Anna, Castiel, Sam, (mentioned) Benny, Jo, Jack

Word Count: 4222

Summary: Dean has the toughest conversation of his life. Cas asks questions. Sam is a little shit.

Warnings: Homophobic language, internalized biphobia, coming out

Series Masterlist

Shout out to the amazing @cracksinthewalls​ for all her help on this series.

       Dean hadn’t realized how terrified he was of facing his father until he broke down at Jo’s. It hadn’t felt like something he would ever have to do until then. Now, it felt as inevitable as a death sentence.

John had always been a huge force in Dean’s life, but since he had gotten hurt to the point of disability, he was less of a presence and more of an imprint. Letting down his folks was the ultimate sin, one Dean had fought his whole life to resist. He knew they loved him, but would it be enough for them to see beyond the idea of Dean they had in their heads. Could they love a pansy?

His mother would be easier to bring on board; he was her favorite whether she’d admit it or not. On the other hand, John was a Marine, he was a mechanic; he didn’t deal with feelings or things he thought were reckless, selfish choices. Dean had never been selfish a day in his life, but this was something that seemed worth it. Benny was worth it. Dean couldn’t give up on family, and he needed them in his corner if it was going to work at all.

First, Dean just needed to get the words out.

The wind whipped through the neighborhood he grew up in like a child unleashed upon the playground. Direction and speed split its focus until it stilled long enough to move on to the next distraction. Dean parked on the street, letting the familiar siding and newer front door center him as he approached, trying to ignore the uneasiness that was unfurling in his gut. Sam was having lunch with some guys from high school who were in town early for Thanksgiving, granting Dean this window of privacy.

Not that Dean told Sam anything. He had done enough talking at Jo’s, even Benny didn’t know everything that he’d been processing the last few days. He hadn’t wanted to make any promises. Dean walked into the house, calling out his greeting, never one to knock at home. John was parked in front of the television in the living room while Mary sent her welcome from somewhere in the basement. 

“Hey! Talk about timing, lunch is just about done,” John teased. “What brings you ‘round? Sammy’s out for the day.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Kinda why I came,” Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of jeans, still standing.

“Jayhawks are playing at two if you wanna stay,” John offered. Dean hummed in uncertainty. John dragged his feet from the ottoman to sit up and face Dean better. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t talk about over lunch. I’m gonna go see if Mom needs anything,” Dean nodded towards the basement steps and left John to his football.

Dean bowed his head as he reached the bottom of the steps, clearing the duct work to find Mary folding laundry at the long narrow table they used for everything from school projects to writing out Christmas cards. 

“I thought that was you,” Mary said pleasantly. “Did your dad tell you lunch was almost ready?”

She dropped the shirt she had finished atop an awkward pile and opened her arms for a hug. Dean scooped her up, probably a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t care and she didn’t mind. A simple gasp told him she noticed though.

“So--- what’s the occasion?” Mary asked, turning back to the basket.

“Nothing really, just wanted to catch up,” Dean downplayed, grabbing a pair of jeans to help. Neither of them pointed out that they’d see each other the next day for Sunday dinner. Mary welcomed the visit as much as Dean was dreading it.

“Your father had physical therapy yesterday. I don’t think they get paid enough,” Mary conspired with a heavy side eye.

Dean chuckled, “I’m guessing not his at least.”

“And supposedly I’m the stubborn one,” Mary muttered. “If you want to make some sandwiches, I’m almost done down here. I don’t want to spread the soup too thin.”

Dean nodded and handed her the sweater he had folded last. “Sounds good, anything in particular?”

“Just don’t let him trick you into letting him have the salami, his doctor says he needs to watch the fats,” Mary warned.

Dean perched against the edge of the steps, listening. He slapped the banister and headed back upstairs. “On it.”

The kitchen’s layout hadn’t changed in thirty years and Dean quickly set up an assembly line with poultry, condiments, lettuce and tomatoes. He tucked the cheese with the processed deli meat back in the drawer, hiding the temptation from John. But not before stealing a slice for his and Mary’s sandwiches. He set the table, like hundreds of times before. John’s spot was the head of the table, Mary to his left. Dean set his own plate on John’s right, a seat he fought Sam for more often than not.

Dean stirred the pot, which was much more a vat, of chicken noodle soup. John’s approach was announced by the steady clink of his cane on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Dean pulled out John’s chair before settling down to his heaping sandwich and extra large bowl of soup.

John lifted the top tier of his sandwich, judging the contents. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dean just chewed purposely and gave John innocent eyes.

“Figures,” John muttered before bellowing through the house. “Mary! Soup’s ready.”

They ate comfortably, fighting the cold outside with the warmth of the familiarity of a shared meal. The grease from the chicken made bubbles in the broth and Dean blew across the surface mixing them back in. Meanwhile Mary made small talk and John teased her about her part time job. 

“Well, I need to get out of the house, or we’d kill each other, you know that,” Mary flicked John’s ear as she cleared their bowls. 

“How’s that going?” Dean asked, eyes fixed on his mother’s face. Panic clogged his ears at the thought of never seeing her again.

“‘S fine. People are picky, but it isn’t bad for what it is. Better than being behind a desk or answering the phone,” Mary explained of her work at the local sporting goods store. “Friday will be nuts, lots of sales, but it’s not like we would have been doing anything anyway.”

“So, Bobby and Ellen’s on Thursday?” Dean verified.

“Yup, dinner’s at 1. He says you’re on pie duty?” John asked, surprised.

“That I am. Sam’s stuck with sides, so please remind him. I don’t want to show up and only have rolls and turkey,” Dean asked Mary.

“Can do. We’re bringing the---,” Mary started.

“Cranberry sauce,” Dean and John said in unison.

“And the wine!” Mary said in dismay at their laughter. “Jerks.”

John and Dean grinned as Mary rolled her eyes. 

“So, was that everything? It seemed like you had something to hash out with us,” John asked Dean, picking up the last of his sandwich.

“Yeah, mostly. I gotta check with Ellen first, but I might be bringing somebody along,” Dean rushed out. He tipped his bowl back, finishing the final dregs.

“A special someone?” Mary asked delicately, looking at John in hope.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean grunted, standing to grab another sandwich.

“Well, is it somebody we know?” Mary prodded, not trying to be too pushy, but obviously curious. “Dean, why are we just now hearing about this?”

Mary’s tone had shifted to apprehension, Dean felt their silent conversation behind his back as he slapped the ingredients together. He shrugged in response, unable to find a proper jumping off point.

He tried to remain casual, but the dred had clawed back up. Without enough wherewithal to speak, Dean sat back down and ate, drawing out his confession to the point of confusion. 

John chuckled at Mary’s suspicion. “He’s nervous. Let the boy get it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the phrase. “I’m thirty six, Dad,” he said through a mouthful.

“Is that right? Coulda fooled me.” John tisked his tongue. Mary ignored his teasing tone.

“Dean, what’s the matter? What’s this girl’s problem that’s making you act so--- cagey all the sudden?” Mary asked anxiously. John slipped Mary’s hand into his, silently soothing her as they waited for Dean’s answer.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean started, sitting back, and shooting for blase. “Turns out I actually like guys, too. So, uh, there’s no problem with a girl. I just wanted to bring, um, this guy I’ve been seeing, Benny, to Bobby and Ellen’s.”

Mary inhaled and clenched John’s hand. John stopped stroking Mary’s arm and twisted in his seat. Dean exhaled slowly, like a pin prick in a deflating balloon, he couldn’t take any of it back. Dean took a chance and looked out through his lashes, face tilted towards his plate. First to Mary’s blue worry and then a flicker to John’s almost black disbelief.

John swallowed and ducked low enough to force Dean’s eyes onto his. "You tellin' me you take it up the ass, is that what you're sayin?"

"Jesus. John!" Mary reproached. But neither man's glare faltered. The dark challenge in John's eyes caused Dean's lips to turn up in a silent snarl.

Dean finally broke the silence. "You really want me to answer that?" 

"I think I have a right to know exactly the kind of man my son is," John countered.

Mary stood abruptly. “He's your son! What's the matter with you?! You asking Sam his jerkin' habits now that he's single, while you're at it?!" She went to the sink, bowing over it as if it would cleanse the images the conversation had conjured.

“Oh, hell, that’s not the point,” John muttered.

Dean had been arrested in high school for drag racing. The whole ride home from the police station he was worried what his dad was gonna do to him once they got home, it was the same quiet rage that had terrified Dean as a child. But it was Mary’s disappointment when they walked in the door that tore into Dean to the point of scarring. He could live with his father’s anger, Sam had taught Dean how to slowly stand up to John over the years.

But Dean didn’t know if he could live in the shadow of Mary’s disappointment. He needed somebody to see him as himself, not just a screw up or a queer. 

Dean sighed. "I am your son. But if you can't handle this, Dad. I don't think you have any right to know me anymore." He looked from Mary to John as the last sentence left his mouth. Maybe he was asking too much after all.

Everyone in the room froze. But not even an ultimatum like that could stop John Winchester from digging himself deeper. "Christ, son, Jo really did a number on you, didn't she? Made you turn tail to the other team all together."

"Leave Jo out of this,” Dean spit out as he stood up. “This is about me and who I'm with now." He stalked the long way around the table, shoving chairs in as he went. He approached Mary alone, carefully, one terrified animal to another. "You'd love him, Mom. He cooks, runs his own business, even got an old Harley in the garage."

Mary couldn't hide her tears, but she tried to smile through them for Dean's sake. "Sounds like a catch, sweetie. But what matters is if you love him. You don't need our say so."

"Don't I?" Dean replied sadly before glancing over Mary’s shoulder to John. "You know Jo told me to give you the finger if you couldn’t see how happy I am. How important Benny is to me. And maybe she's right. But I wanted this to work. I wanted to keep the family together. That's why I'm here. The rest is up to you, Old Man."

Dean kissed his mother on the cheek, between murmured reassurances and left without another word to John. He teetered on the brink, somewhere between busting his knuckles against the cold glass of the impala’s window and losing his lunch on the frostbitten ground. Somehow, Dean made it into the solitude of the driver’s seat before he broke down and sobbed. The only saving grace he got was when his mother's voice roared from inside the house.

Dean dragged the salt and snot from his face with a heavy palm and started the engine. He couldn't stay there, but he didn't know where to go either. He just drove.

    Dean pulled into the parking lot at The Pearly Gates on autopilot. He’d spent the afternoon equally suppressing and dissecting his conversation with his parents as he kept it even between the lines of two lane country roads. Now, Dean was ready to be somebody else, to make drinks and flirt and just forget everything that had happened.

    The college football crowd was winding down, which allowed Dean some time to catch up with the day shift bartenders Garth and Jody. Back before Cas got blindsided with the responsibility of business ownership, Cas, Dean, Ash and Artie would claim a booth near the pool tables and blow their grocery money every weekend. When Sam moved back after law school he and Mick joined the crowd that were regularly praised for paying for Jody’s son’s braces.

    Garth had been the first dragged from the friend pool to fill the schedule when Cas’s brother dropped off the face of the earth. Though Garth volunteered, Dean knew it was just out of the goodness of his heart, not a need for extra cash. 

    “Here he is!” Garth announced Dean’s arrival. Luckily for Dean, Garth was pouring a beer otherwise he would have been wrapped in one of Garth’s spider monkey-like hugs. A few regulars in the corner raised their glasses to Dean in greeting as he passed by with his company smile. Jody whipped by him, fresh out of the stock room with her arms full of their dollar bags of chips they sold to keep from having to run a full kitchen.

    “Look who’s early,” Jody exclaimed before dropping the load onto the back counter. “You trying to cut into my time there, Winchester?”

    “You know if you ever want more hours, you just gotta ask,” Dean offered suggestively, strolling behind the bar.

    Jody sputtered dramatically, “And work nights? No, thank you.”

    “It was worth a shot,” Dean replied, shrugging at Garth who knew better.

    Jody sighed and cocked her head. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

    Dean ducked his head against the compliment as she patted his arm apologetically. 

    “Want me to split your tips before you go?” Dean asked, bending out of his jacket.

    “That’d be lovely,” Jody answered, sorting the chips by kind. “Garth get’s an extra twenty because Bess and Donna were ‘round.”

    “Look at you, Mr. Slick,” Dean teased as he grabbed the old milk bottle filled with mostly singles. Garth blushed.

    “You know what they say Dean-o, flattery is everything,” Garth explained. Dean, who routinely had the most tips out of any of the staff, including Bela, just nodded at the quirky dude. Dean doled out their shares and washed up before officially punching in. 

    Jody was gone as soon as Anna arrived, but Garth waited for Jack to show before leaving her and Dean on their own. It was seven o’clock before Cas arrived instead of his unreliable nephew.

    “Everything alright?” Dean asked knowingly as Cas hung his trench coat on a broken notch on the rail beside the server’s station.

    “Jack is under the weather,” Cas explained blandly. Dean eyed the windows, taking in the light flurries that danced in the streetlight. “I guess I’ll have to do tonight.”

    It was a surprisingly unremarkable shift, the weather kept traffic bearable even after Anna’s shift ended at midnight. Dean walked her out the back to her car, like he always did as the plow eased out of the parking lot. 

    “You gonna be alright with him for the rest of the night?” Anna whispered before they breached the cold. Her big brown eyes held more mischief than worry. 

    “Goodnight, Anna,” Dean drew out as he held the door sternly. 

    “Night, Dean,” Anna chuckled. Dean watched her tiptoe around the icy patches and make it to her old Tahoe. He made sure it started before heading back behind the bar, and three more hours with Castiel. 

    The speakers were set lower than usual to balance their minimal customers. On his shifts, Dean had always insisted on having control over the musical selection. So when he walked into a pop singer’s version of mopey folk he did a double take before bee lining for the stereo. 

    “Please, don’t,” Cas’s simply requested from somewhere to Dean’s right. “I kind of like this song, but more importantly one of the customer’s requested a change of station.”

    Dean eyed the patrons like suspects in a line up, uncertain who would blaspheme in such a way. No one seemed particularly guilty and he had to let it go. Between drinks, Dean washed glasses in the small sink behind the bar until Cas was finally able to start his nightly paperwork. The last couple paid their tab just after 1:30, leaving them holding their breaths in hope as they started to put up the chairs. 

    “Is it often this quiet?” Cas wondered aloud, “I don’t recall Saturday’s business to dwindle so.”

    Dean smiled to himself; leave it to Cas to look a gift horse of a slow night in the mouth. “No, man, this is not the usual. But, it worked out. And thanks for filling in for the kid, I know you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

    Cas quietly beamed at Dean’s gratitude before pausing at the not so subtle jab at the end. They went through the remaining end of day routine in silence. Dean turned off the faux neon signs in the windows to signal the early close as Cas handled the money. Dean would usually even out the till and split tips with Jack, leaving the deposit for Cas to handle the next day. Instead he was left with cleaning detail as the boss man did the accounting.

    Before long Dean was rolling the dirty mop bucket back to the office/store room/ kitchen/ employee area. Exhaustion had eaten at Dean’s internal walls, leaving him on the slippery edge between slap-happy and zombie. He hummed to keep his eyes open, waiting on Cas to finally call it a night and let Dean clock out.

    “We don’t talk anymore,” Cas said abruptly, without looking up from the cash machine. Dean’s head shot up, concern furrowing his features. “In fact, I’m prone to think you don’t like me at all, Dean.”

    “What do you mean, we’re talking right now,” Dean downplayed defensively. Cas glanced up over his desk, mild surprise evident. Cas always seemed such a mystery to Dean, from his social awkwardness to his blunt observations. Dean had come to envy Cas’s almost innocent lack of need to perform for others, to be anyone but himself. He had forgotten that Cas would read into his demeanor in the uncanniest of ways.

    “True, we are. But are we?” Cas typed the code into the safe and waited for the time delayed entry. “We used to hang out, watch football, play pool, or cards even.”

    “We’ve got bowling every week, man,” Dean wrung out the mophead and latched it onto the rack on the wall. He was trying to remember the last time he and Cas had fun, just the two of them and couldn’t recall a single occurrence over the past year.

    “I miss you. I miss my friend,” Cas replied sadly. “And I don’t know what I did to ruin it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

    Dean closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean started. He walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, assertive reassurance written all over his face. “Look, I’m tired. Working all week and then coming here is kicking my ass. So I don’t have a lot of free time or brain capacity to hang out like we used to. But I’m doing my best, man.”

    Cas looked like a confused puppy, eyes drooping and head tilted. “That isn’t it. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me?”

    Dean huffed and shook his head, hands raised in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I like you, okay? We’re still--- you know--- buddies.”

    “Buddies,” Cas said it like it was a war crime.

    “Yeah, man, friends. Do you need me to pull up a dictionary on my phone?!” Dean was getting anxious. He didn’t know what exactly had set Cas down this path of questioning, but he was certain he needed it to end. So much for a quiet night.

    After a few weighted stares, Cas squinted and turned them down a different path. “Did me employing you negatively affect our relationship? Should I not have asked that of you?” 

    “Wait, that would have stopped you?” Dean asked, surprised by Cas’s sudden, if extremely late, realization.

    “I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt our friendship, Dean. Has working here hindered you?” Cas asked apologetically.

    Dean’s mouth dropped open and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. Working here--- everyone is great, don’t get me wrong--- but man I need a break. I wanted to help out here or there, but I’ve got no time for a life if I stay on.”

    “I see,” Cas sat back, poorly masking his own discomfort with Dean’s confession. “Look, I know I’m not the best at what I do. But I find it very hard to trust new people. Employees, especially, tend to let me down. I guess--- I guess I’ve relied on you for too long, Dean. I’m sorry if I’ve taken advantage.”

    Dean chuckled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

    Missing the joke, Cas continued, “I am taking this conversation as your verbal resignation. I hope you will stay on for the customary two weeks time?”

    “You’re serious?” Dean asked, stunned.

    “You’re unhappy. I don’t want to cause you anymore grief,” Cas replied simply.

    “It wasn’t that bad, Cas.--- But, you gotta do something about Jack. Man up and light a fire under his ass, or just kick him to the curb until he’s ready to live up to the family business. You need to hire people who want to be here,” Dean offered. 

    Cas nodded dejectedly. “I know, I just have an awful gauge for people’s reliability from a simple interview. And past employers rarely ‘spill the tea’ as Bela would say.”

    Dean giggled, but stopped himself once he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes. “Hey, what if somebody does the interviews for you? I bet Jody would weed out the bad seeds before their asses ever hit the bar stool.”

    Cas was surprised by that option. “That could work. She is very intimidating.”

    “Right?!” Dean exclaimed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So, we’re really doing this? Two weeks and I’m out?”

    “Yes, Dean. You’ve done more than I should have asked of you.” Cas stood and extended his hand.

    Dean grabbed it and pulled Cas in for a hug, their bound hands stuck between them. “Thanks, man. But, I’m glad it worked out. It will work out. This is gonna be good.”

    “And we’ll---,” Cas asked as they broke apart.

    “We’ll still be friends. Hell, if I’m free maybe we can reclaim our old table every once in a while,” Dean offered, patting Cas’s shoulder. A genuine smile crept across Dean’s face for the first time all day.

    “I’d like that,” Cas admitted as the safe alerted his time was up.

    The next morning, Sam held the door for Dean who was smirking as they walked in. Exhausted and needing the comfort of his favorite diner to fill his empty stomach, Dean agreed to Sunday breakfast with a seemingly none-the-wiser Sam, certain he'd be missing their weekly dinner with his parents for possibly the first time.

"Not that one. Let's see if there's a spot in the back," Sam muttered as Dean tried sitting in the first open booth he saw. 

"What? Why?" Dean groaned, but straightened up and followed Sam passed the bustling counter.

Sam lifted his chin and motioned Dean to the second to last spot. Slightly annoyed, Dean threw himself onto the bench seat, only to have Sam slide beside him, caging him in. 

"Glad you boys could make it," the all too familiar drawl of their father's voice greeted them from across the table.

Dean looked at Sam and cursed beneath his breath. Sam had the nerve to look guilty, but his puppy dog eyes didn't hold an ounce of potency now.

"Wow, Dad, I had no idea you'd be here. Funny coincidence, hey, Sammy?" Dean snarked.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled.

"I made him drag you here, Dean. So if you wanna be pissed, be pissed at me," John began. "I ordered your usuals, to give us some privacy. It seems we need to talk."

Tagging: @flamencodiva​​ @dolphincliffs​​ @dontshootmespence​​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​​ @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis​​ @cosicas-cuquis​​ @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja​​ @defenderrosetyler​​ @ericaprice2008  @crashdevlin​​  @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary​​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​​​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​​ @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6​ @cracksinthewalls​​ @atc74​​    

Series Masterlist

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Next Chapter: Giving Up

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

A hphm character tier list please!! Bonus point if added reasoning/ explanation!

Have a great day :3

I doubt there are any placements on this list that would truly surprise anyone, but let's go through the different rankings. I didn't name them, by the way. Those were the categories that were already offered. I could have renamed or recolored them I suppose, but I didn't wind up doing so. Let's go in ascending order.

"Avada Kedavra." Self explanatory. Three of these characters are absolutely evil and irredeemable pieces of trash. And then there's Lockhart. He's just here because he pisses me off. Granted, so does Rita Skeeter, but she doesn't ruin an entire dating quest. At least when she shows up, it's because it's a quest about her. Fenrir Greyback purposefully infects children and describes them as "delicious" so...yeah. I'd put him even lower if I could. Albus Dumbledore's placement is also not a surprise if you know me. I hate him with all of my hate. Patricia Rakepick is also here and I doubt I need to explain why.

"Send to Azkaban." They don't bother me as much as "Avada Kedavra" but I am still not a fan. The Volde-clown Boggart is personally annoying in presentation but also as a plot device. For Peeves, there is the Prank storyline of Year 5. Enough said. The Weird Sisters creep me out, Filch and Mundugus are generally annoying, I discussed Rita, and the Dementor literally calls Azkaban home. That leaves Wormtail. I don't passionately hate him but he's not exactly a good person either.

"Kinda Sus" This is where I placed all of the characters who I, for whatever reason, do not trust or otherwise find shady, the ones who give me a bad feeling. This doesn't have to be plot related either, for cases like Ethan Parkin or Madam Hooch, it might just mean that their behavior is sometimes questionable. Of course, this is also something of a joke, like putting the Red Cloak on the list. For someone like Moody, it's more obvious - everyone knows I don't trust him. Characters like Bilton and Madam Villanelle are technically on our side, but they could be spies. If a character is a known villain, but their agenda and the depth of their evil is unclear, like The Dark Witch and the White-Robed Wizard, they also go here. Jacob and MC being placed here is somewhat of a joke, but it's also somewhat meta. Jacob is like Moody, his intentions are still unclear to me. And the game keeps teasing the idea that MC may fall to the Dark Side.

"Do you even go here?" Wow, do you ever stop to notice how many characters HPHM actually has? And this tier list included all of them, even the ones I would never have thought of. I literally just used this category to place all of the characters who do not technically attend Hogwarts school, though in a few of those cases like Aurelie, it definitely came off as more amusing. Additionally, I used this ranking for all of the characters who could be considered forgettable. Either by the fandom or the game itself, such as the prefects and poor Elora Dunn. Look, if the tier list has to actually list their name in the picture so that I can remember who they are, maybe they don't need to make the list, that's all I'm saying.

"Don't care." Mostly interchangeable with "Do you even go here." Again, the cast is so huge, that I'm not going to go through every character that I placed here. These past two rankings can mostly act as a summation for the majority of the characters for whom I don't particularly like or dislike. Emily Tyler hasn't returned or been developed as an antagonist in a while, so I don't care. Trelawney giving another prophecy is boring and conflicts with canon, so I don't care. Cedric Diggory is one of the most in-your-face examples of fanservice I've ever seen, so I don't care. But again, not all of these are negative. I think the Red Cap is funny, even if his storyline is brief. I love seeing Dobby, Arthur and Molly. I always love seeing them. I could go on.

"Ok." For the characters who, when I look at them, my immediate reaction is a generally positive one. I could probably get interested in a fanwork about these guys. For many of them, there is great potential to be explored but it just hasn't happened very much. Diego would not have been this high a year ago, but he's been fleshed out. Characters like Andre, Duncan, and Tonks...whenever they're in the spotlight and get genuine development, I'm interested. It just happens so rarely. The same goes for the Weasley boys, for Badeea. Other characters go here because I personally like them, even if they aren't that relevant. People like Aberforth and Percy. But two people can wind up here despite being very different and my having completely separate feelings about both of them, like Alanza and Ben.

"Like." Everyone that I would probably write a fanwork about someday, if I could actually motivate myself to finish my current WIP. Talbott, Chiara, and Jae are genuinely interesting and compelling. They might not make my top five, but they would make my top ten. I will always love Flitwick and what HPHM has done for him, I don't even care. Keep in mind, this doesn't mean I condone everything that the character has done...Ismelda has a lot to answer for, but it doesn't mean she's not interesting. And Penny can be very interesting too, but usually only when she's put under intense stress. As heartless as it is to say. You may also be surprised to see Myrtle here, but similar to Flitwick, I just love what this game did with her. Some of these could rise or drop a ranking pretty easily too. Like in hindsight, maybe I should have switched Duncan and Myrtle. It's not a big deal either way, I guess.

"Must be protected at all costs." Self explanatory. For the most part, these are all my favorite characters in the game, and the ones who I would lay down on railroad tracks for. Another character who climbed higher over time is Skye. If it wasn't for how much people message me about her, I may not have gotten quite as invested. My love for Orion is well documented, Rowan is the reason I started playing this game, Beatrice was the breakout character of Year 6, and Tulip x Merula is my OTP for this game. I could gush about any one of these kids for six paragraphs but the bottom line is that they are my favorite characters. It is at this point that we have entered "top five" territory.

"GOD TIER ~ ALWAYS" Characters who reign supreme and are factually flawless. It's not surprising to see characters like Dennis and Fang up here because critters are, generally speaking, leagues above humans simply by default. We can also see her majesty Queen Bean ruling from the sky, guarded by her champion, the arbiter known as Erika Rath. You are entitled to your wrong opinion if you fail to see the divinity of these characters.

[inked-out-trees]

⭐ for The Keep Going Song? Thanks! :)

(anh i would die for you)

Thank you for asking! I am going to be talking about the whole thing because it's fun, and because there's not really many ~secrets~ within the text to ramble about, just little fun snippets!

I'll do it under a cut because I will definitely ramble. Woohoo!

I came across The Keep Going Song (the song) after my Lookout 3 Companion Playlist (& my spotify discovery) introduced me to the Bengsons. The effect was almost instantaneous - it's the kind of warmth I try to encompass in everything I do, and for the next few days I had it on repeat as I worked. This was around the time I was finishing my Lookout script, and I had been toying with the idea of writing a Cornleyverse fic after absolutely devouring all 10 fics in the tag. What I knew was that I wanted it to be sweet, I wanted it to pull them all together, and I wanted it to be a progression. Despite only having seen the Goes Wrong Show, jumping into the fandom made me want to dimensionalize these characters and give them a story beyond everything that had already occured.

I also watched Christmas Carol before / during the writing process, but to date I have not watched Peter Pan or the full-length TPTGW. My prior knowledge comes from Wikipedia, the delightul amateur TPTGW production on YouTube, a friend's excellent transcription of the Haversham Manor script, and tumblr meta analysis. I think I did a reasonable enough job pretending I knew what I was doing.

Let's get going!

I knew off the top that it was going to be vignettes - they would give me room to spread the story over the long period of time it takes for a group of people to grow into something resembling a family. Like I said in the original author's note, there was supposed to be more of the early, snippy days - but I got so focused on making them kinder that I found I couldn't properly write a fight. In hindsight, it probably would have been easier if I tried writing that first, but, well. Once I realized that it was too late. The alphabet idea came later, once I had them all finished: I wanted to organize them somehow, but numbers felt too open, too infinite - closing the story on an organizational endpoint was just really satisfying.

a - Every good story needs a good beginning.

c - Starting with the end of Peter Pan is my sneaky way of slipping past the fact that I haven't seen the earlier shows! The Max and Sandra storyline is just so sweet, and I wanted to let it exist a little bit in between our jump from Peter Pan to Christmas Carol. This vignette came so easily when I wrote it and I love love love the feelings and the tentativity about the whole thing.

f - This was actually the last vignette I wrote. I realized I needed some front-end padding because otherwise my angst plot came rather abruptly, and what better way? At this point, too, I was trying to bring in POVs from each one of our characters, and when deciding on Trevor's POV I thought the exasperation-excitement combination would be an excellent choice. It turns out Trevor is my favourite to write, mostly because I can find his voice a lot easier than some of the others - and probably also because I hold a lot of fondness and nostalgia for stage crew work. Also, I wrote most of this one on a long evening walk in the notes app on my phone. Fun fact.

h - I did my original idea slam in a draft tumblr post, and this one just says "birthday party but one without all the drama of christmas carol". And what do you know, that's exactly what it is! I definitely took the birthday party (in CCGW as well as in this fic) as a kind of proof that they really do like each other, if they're doing things like this and if they want to do things like this - and that theme of okay, they want to be here formed the basis for this part. I think it's exceptionally sweet that Dennis came looking for friends and ended up finding, well, something. And I popped in a little MMNI reference with "one of the Janines" - Backwards Janine? Frontwards Janine? Original Janine? Who knows! It's one of them!

l - The thing about this plot is that it's actually one of the first ideas I had when dreaming up this fic, and I couldn't quite let it go. The point was, what if I somehow split them up? How can they get on when half the society is out of commission? And the most reasonable way I could find to actually get half of them out of commission was the car accident. To be honest, this one is mostly filler - it's also the second vignette I wrote, and it found its birth in the email drafts of my work laptop.

m - Trying to map out this little plotline without overdoing it might have been the most difficult part of this fic, and I'm still not 100% sure I succeeded. This is our explanation for the unease from the vignette above, and it took me 3 rewrites before I finally found something that settled in my brain. "Dennis gets chased by a goose" might be one of my favourite lines in the fic though.

Also, putting these letters right next to each other made me feel really clever for no reason.

n - My Jonathan perspective also took a few stutter-steps in its beginning, but this one ultimately came from the promo video's reveal that Robert and Dennis live together, and me playing with the continual idea of the remaining cast members being rather unmoored in their injured castmates' absence. Robert in particular because I love his character and I love making him Feel Things(TM) (fun hint: this will also be a small theme in the new cpds fic I have in the works!) and I want to see so much from this odd relationship between him and Dennis. Obviously they have to tolerate each other if they are willingly roommates - how far can I go with that? I love how this one turned out.

o - All I have to say about this one is that I still really love the sweetness between these two, and they deserve the world. Also, at some point during writing this I was really caught up with how striking Dave's face silhouette is (don't ask) so that ended up making it in somehow.

q - Girls' Night is SO important to me. After all the work they've done to make these gals friends I needed to capture it, and a pleasant night in just made a lot of sense. This one is the home of a few of my headcanons - Annie has a chef roommate and Max does a lot of the cooking, thus the "neither of us are the usual household cooks" comments, and I also think they're at the point where they can joke about their previous failures (especially with these three together) so the nod to A Trial To Watch (my favourite gws episode) was so fun. Also, Waking Ned really is a silly pick-me-up of a movie - would recommend. Special thanks to CBC for giving us Canadians quality British TV alongside our occasionally questionable homegrown programming.

r - It wouldn't be a fic about progress and growth with this crew without a disheartening moment turned into gold. I wrote this one while barbecuing, another fun fact, and no joke the hardest part was figuring out what to name the play they were doing. I kept pace with the whole "Jonathan can't get onscreen" gag, which was personally hilarious and made me cackle as I wrote it, and the rest of it just felt good. I will always have a soft spot for comfort and reassurance in a story and getting to write it has just been an absolute delight.

t - This was one of my other unplanned vignettes. It was originally to fill out Robert's POV, but also to express a bit of how things have changed in Chris's attitude towards his cast - if there's one thing I would change from Mischief's characerisation thus far, it's this brand of almost-kindness that I consistently need to write him with. It takes the aftermath of the car accident and uses it to kind of make him understand - this is a valuable group of people and I don't want to lose it. But of course he's not the type of person to actually express that in any way, so I thought the frenetic hovering was a good way to get the point across. As well, the kind-of-bonding between Chris and Robert - the two of them are such powerhouses of insistent personality that conflict so easily but they've also got a more secret kind of friendship that deserves to be explored a little more. I really like this vignette and how it ended up portraying how they are around each other, how they really do know each other, especially when they're not fighting. Makes me soft.

w - This is the first vignette I wrote! I honestly didn't realize until writing this just how much I identify with Annie - best of both worlds re. crew and cast, a bit of tenacity regarding getting through things, overall personality - I just love her so so much. She also seems like the most sensible of the cast, so the collective "why are we really here?" moment with Trevor really spoke to me. I love their friendship, I love the kind of quiet vibe this vignette gives off - this is one of the ones I can feel most strongly, the one I can step into and exist inside. I also spent most of my old drama rehearsals and classes without shoes, so that had to make it in just by virtue of the sock brigade (me).

z - One thing I knew for sure since the inception of the fic was that it needed to end on a victory. I took the images I had of this victorious adrenaline, everyone together having a good time, kind of getting smashed, and karaoke (I really wanted the karaoke, for some reason) and went the obvious route: the wedding. Ending on Chris POV also felt so right - possibly because he's the one with the most growth in this fic - and getting to finally feel this triumph with him after all these other trials and tribulations was an absolute joy. The wedding hall, in my head, looks like the one my cousin used (it was at a zoo... my sister and I went on a night walk and heard a lot of screaming peacocks) and I definitely threw all my wistfulness, all my love for the characters I'd developed, and all my love for this fantastic fandom into this part. The incorrect lyrics that Annie sings are exactly what I think every time I hear that song, because I've never looked up the lyrics before and my brain likes to play Mad Libs with my super-questionable auditory processing. And the image of the ballroom staff getting really exasperated with them and shutting all the lights off came to me at night and is hastily scribbled on a sticky note (it's a wonder it's legible) but I still strongly believe that it's the perfect, perfect way to end. I still get the warm feelings when I reread this part, even now, after so many reads.

And, finally - our end quote is exactly what started this whole thing. What is this drama society if not a rough beginning? But the concept that we'll make it through, that we can just take a step and then another and it'll be okay because we're together... it's hard to describe just how much it means to me, to my place in the world, to the world itself. I think one of my rather consistent aims in writing, no matter what it is, is to be able to have this collective - characters that become family, people that are important to each other, this constellation to lean on - because it's all I can say for the human experience. It's probably quite a bit of wishful thinking (as I said to another friend, "I am apparently letting loose on all my repressed social feelings of the past year and shoving them into fics") and a sort of subconscious confirmation that if I write it, I can be it. So this force of understanding and kindness and ultimately good people helping each other through the world is something I can't help but include, something that means the absolute world to me.

I'm so glad to have been able to share this fic with everyone, and extra glad that it's been able to touch some people along the way. I've found such an incredible community in Mischief and coincidentally I think The Keep Going Song represents that warmth, too - the community I've been so lucky to exist inside, how we're helping each other along, step by step. What a beautiful thing to be a part of! Thank you for reading and allowing me to give you a bit of my heart. 💖💖

[ingek73]

Fairytales for fuckwits: Meghan, a children's book, and the school bully tactics of the British tabloids...

Piers Morgan's obsession with Meghan Markle continues, while Mike Graham appears worried there may be too many big words for him to understand.

Mic Wright

May 6

On May the 4th, there was a great disturbance in the force, as if thousands of tabloid reporters and talk radio pundits cried out at once: The Duchess of Sussex had announced she was writing a children’s book.

Since the earth-shattering news that Meghan has written a story about the relationship between father’s and their sons — apparently based on a poem she wrote for Prince Harry — the tabloid press and talk radio stations have gone into meltdown.

The Sun has managed to crank out seven hysterically-pitched stories on the announcement since it dropped — the book isn’t out until June 8th — with each more unhinged than the last:

MEG TO PAPER Meghan Markle writes children’s book inspired by Prince Harry and baby Archie about ‘bond between father and son’

MEG-A MOVE Meghan Markle’s first priority should be mending broken relationships with royals not writing kids’ book, expert claims

SOUNDS A BIT WOODEN ‘Schmaltzy’ Meghan Markle ‘on dodgy ground’ with kids’ book celebrating fathers ‘after own bust-up with dad’ says author

DOUBLE DUCH Meghan Markle accused of copying her kids’ book The Bench from another story – but author defends her

NOT WRITE Piers Morgan slams ‘hypocrite’ Meghan Markle for kids’ book on ‘father-son bond’ after ‘ruining Harry and Charles’ ties’

'RIDICULOUS' Meghan Markle using Duchess of Sussex as author name ‘laughable’ after she wanted to cut Royal ties, says royal expert

CUT PRICE Meghan Markle’s kids’ book has price slashed already at Amazon and Waterstones

You’ll notice that Piers Morgan — a man who has turned one drink with Meghan after which he claims she “ghosted him”, which took place in 2016, into a five year and counting obsession — gets his own story there. That’s The Sun filleting Morgan’s spittle-flecked Daily Mail column on the book for its own news piece.

Morgan, who trails his columns on Twitter like they are exciting new releases rather than the tabloid equivalent of a letter scrawled in faeces forced through your letterbox, dashed out his thoughts on The Bench with the indecent haste of a man running along while his trousers fall down.

Image description: “Twitter avatar for @BreeNewsome

DEFUND & ABOLISH POLICE, REFUND OUR COMMUNITIES

@BreeNewsome

Piers Morgan’s obsession with Meghan Markle is genuinely disturbing. He’s really just using the guise of journalism to be a public stalker and harasser.

May 5th 2021

1,414 Retweets10,252 Likes”

-

Beneath a typically screaming Mail headline — How the hell can Meghan 'I hate royalty but call me Duchess' Markle preach about father-child relationships when she's disowned her own Dad, and wrecked her husband's relationship with his? — Morgan howled:

… she continues to cynically exploit her royal titles because she knows that's the only reason anyone is paying her vast sums of money to spew her uniquely unctuous brand of pious hectoring gibberish in Netflix documentaries, Spotify podcasts or children's books.

Of course, her equally cynical publishers don't give a damn about any of this shocking double standard.

Forget the fact that Meghan had a good degree of personal fame before she ever met Prince Harry, Piers Morgan accusing anyone else of being a cynical fame chaser is beyond parody. From his earliest days as a gossip hack, Morgan has muscled into pictures with the rich and famous, desperate to be someone.

When Meghan was willing to indulge him, he showered her with praise, but once she stopped taking his calls, he turned into the Tinder match from hell. That he has been married to his second wife, fellow controversialist columnist Celia Walden since 2010 seemingly did nothing to dampen his obsession.

Having repeatedly interviewed Meghan’s estranged father Thomas Markle — another man aggrieved because a woman would rather not spend time with him — Morgan sneers:

If she really cared about father-child relationships, she'd take a chauffeur-driven limousine on the hour-long trip to see her own father who's never even met either Harry or Archie.

It’s projection again: Piers Morgan’s ego is so egg-shell thin that after Meghan decided that one drink was more than enough, he’s spent 5 years seeking revenge and convinced that he’s been wronged, just like her ‘poor old dad’. That’s the ‘poor old dad’ that insists on talking about his daughter to journalists at every possible occasion.

At the end of an article that implies Harry and Meghan contributed to the death of Prince Philip — he died of natural causes — and rants on about “the woke”, Morgan ends with this:

But then as we've seen from her gruesomely self-interested behaviour during a pandemic that's caused so much devastation and pain to billions around the world, Meghan Markle doesn't really care about anyone but herself.

Remember, the Duchess of Sussex’s only ‘crime’ here is to write a children’s book which people will be free to buy or ignore with equal ease. But, as ever, Piers Morgan treats the news with all the proportionality of a US drone strike.

The real story here is about how Morgan — the bittiest of bit-part players in the narrative of Meghan and Harry’s lives — is so desperate to upgrade his place in the cast list that he will rant and rave to stay relevant. His departure from Good Morning Britain came after his last stream of invective about Meghan and he knows this schtick gets him the attention and money he craves.

Image description: “Twitter avatar for @MariaLRoach

Maria Roach

@MariaLRoach

Meghan Markle inside the tiny space called Piers Morgan’s head. #duchessofsussex Tap Dance GIF by Miss America

May 5th 2021

122 Retweets1,619 Likes”

-

Aside from Morgan’s column, MailOnline has published 9 other news stories on or related to the book announcement. The most telling of them is one that links the Duchess of Sussex’s book to another one… by the Duchess of Cambridge.

Headlined Bookshelf battle royale! Kate Middleton shares a glimpse inside her Hold Still photobook just a day after Meghan Markle unveiled her own £12.99 children's story, the story unsurprisingly treats Kate with kid gloves while continuing to imply that Meghan is the kind of person who would make gloves out of kids if it suited her devilish schemes.

There’s no shade thrown at the Duchess of Cambridge for revealing further details of her book just hours after Meghan’s announcement. Instead, the story — lavishly illustrated with images from the book — gushes:

The Duchess of Cambridge has shared a glimpse of her photography book Hold Still ahead of its release on Friday…

… Kate, 39, a keen photographer, launched a campaign during the first lockdown last year to ask the public to submit images which captured the period.

It even includes a mention of an image of a BLM protestor saying:

Over the course of the project, the Duchess shared a number of her favourite images on the Kensington Royal Instagram page, including a Black Lives Matter protester holding a sign reading: 'Be on the right side of history.'

If Meghan had done the same she would have been decried for “supporting extremists”. Remember the contrasting way their mutual taste for avocado was covered?

15 Headlines Show How Differently The British Press Treat Meghan Markle Vs Kate Middleton | Bored Panda

Over at The Daily Telegraph, Spiked alumna Ella Whelan offered her thoughts on a book that isn’t released until next month under the headline Meghan Markle’s fun-free children’s book may put an entire generation off reading, which makes it sound like a grimoire full of dark magic rather than a gentle children’s book about kids and their dads.

Just as with the Mail’s story on Kate’s book, it’s worth imagining what Whelan would say if the Duchess of Cambridge had written The Bench. Look at the following section…

It reveals something of the political superficiality of Harry and Meghan’s activism that an “inclusive” book would use the military father as its promotional message. Perhaps it’s a cultural thing, but if my kids have to read about soldiers, I’d prefer Hans Christian Andersen’s tin version rather than the woke posturing of a former royal.

… and notice that because Meghan is the author including a father who is in the military is “political superficiality”. If Kate had written a story that featured an analogue for Prince William — who also spent time in uniform, though in less dangerous circumstances than his ‘spare’ brother — Whelan would likely deem it a ‘touching tribute to their love���.

Similarly, Sarah Ferguson — the ex-wife of Prince Andrew, top Yelp! reviewer for Jeffrey Epstein’s houses and noted avoider of FBI questioning — uses the title Duchess of York on her many execrable children’s books.

Now that Meghan is the tabloid’s new monster in the monarchy, Fergie’s antics are pointed to as a positive with her books flattered even as Meghan’s as-yet-unpublished book is panned.

Image description: “Twitter avatar for @talkRADIO

talkRADIO

@talkRADIO

Meghan Markle is releasing a new children's book about father-son relationships.

Mike Graham: "It's so juvenile. This is somebody who acts like she's still in high school... it's not exactly Tennyson, is it?

@mrmarkdolan | @Iromg Image

May 5th 2021

36 Retweets221 Likes”

-

Over on talkRADIO, Mike Graham — a melting mass of expired meat — ranted about a children’s book, worried perhaps that it will contain too many long words. Speaking to his colleague, Mark Dolan — Dennis Pennis without the charm — Graham crowed:

It’s so juvenile. This is somebody who acts like she’s still in high school… I don’t have anything against her for any particular reason, other than she’s a bit too American, you know. She thinks everything is just great and cheesy. Rhyming the words ‘joy’ and ‘boy’. It’s not exactly Tennyson, is it?

Ah yes, that famous children’s author, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, known for such devastating rhymes as this one from The Lady of Shallot: “She left the web/ She left the loom/ She made three paces through the room.”

I’m not saying The Lady of Shalott is rubbish — though I do still hold a grudge against Tennyson after some very tedious teaching in high school — but that focusing on one rhyme in a poem is an easy trick if you want to say its shit. That Graham cannot see the irony in decrying writing a children’s book as “juvenile” is just one of the reasons he’s employed by a station with less than 1% reach.

Image description: “Twitter avatar for @NadimJBaba

Nadim Baba

@NadimJBaba

Piers Morgan ranting about the one who got away in 5, 4, 3.......

Media Guardian @mediaguardian

Meghan wins copyright claim against Mail on Sunday over letter https://t.co/cJZTgDMvgz

May 5th 2021

1 Like”

-

There’ll be a new round of these columns, stories, and talk radio segments when the book is released, particularly as The Mail on Sunday just lost the second part of Meghan’s copyright claim against it.

There’s nothing that either Meghan or Harry could do that wouldn’t drive these rats in a sack rabid. If they did nothing, they’d be called lazy. When they make things, take jobs, or really say anything the very media that benefits hugely from stories about them scream that it’s a cry for attention. And yet Piers Morgan regularly pissing himself in public is “commentary”.

[cowboyshit]

twenty questions

tagged by: @dustofinsanity (thank you so much my dear!!!!!!)

what do you prefer to be called name-wise? honestly I’ll probably answer to most things as long as they aren’t mean. but ash, ashley, doe, those seem to be the solid three I’m known by around here when is your birthday? november 30th!  where do you live? in a tiny, backwoods cow-town smack dab in the middle of california three things you are doing right now? filling this questionnaire out, eating dinner I just finished cooking, and petting sadie with my foot since she’s curled up at my feet after she finished her dinner four fandoms that have peaked your interest. I guess I can go with four I’ve been heavily involved with, even though there’s plenty more than that since I’m a little fangirl at heart, but wrestling (obviously), black sails, the night shift, and pirates of the caribbean how has the pandemic been treating you? uh, I mean, it hasn’t been great and I’ve had to deal with some pretty bad shit as all of us have, and probably some of my worst mental health battles I’ve had to face in about a year or so, but honestly? I just kind of count my blessings these days. lucky to still be employed, even if my pay got a little cut it was nothing that keeps me from paying my bills. all I had to do was take away a few luxury things to make ends meet, and that’s a lot, LOT less than other people have had to do. so yeah, it’s been pretty shitty, this year has been bad news after bad news both personally and globally, but whatever. it could be worse. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? it is no-joke like a four-way tie. a bunch of good songs were in my discover weekly and I’ve been playing four of them on non-stop repeat one after the other. oh! and one my best friend showed to me. this baby don’t cry by k. flay, rock bottom by grandson, ok ok by hoko, and insurgents by the poolside by denny recommend a movie. i’ve jumped into holiday mood early af because tbh I need the holiday cheer, so keeping in that theme, I suggest the holiday with jude law because DUH how old are you? thirty! school, university, occupation, other? had some college, been working in my current career for the past ten years. hoping to pursue a promotion finally since my supervisors have been telling me for the past eight years that I need to promote do you prefer heat or cold? cold pleeeaaaase! I’m a radiator and put off heat like nobody’s business. I’m always warm. name one fact others may not know about you. this is hard because I just constantly blab everything about me, and I have two people who literally know EVERYTHING about me lmfao uhhh I guess... something people may not know... uhhh... on my dad’s side of the family one half was ashkenazi jewish who had to flee germany to avoid the holocaust, where they went to live in italy, while the other half were nazi’s committing some pretty bad stuff that my family won’t talk about, even to this day. funny how two descendants eventually met in america and fell in love, huh? and when they DID fall in love one of them was half italian and in the mafia! so I always joke that my bubbly cheerful self is a descendent of some pretty evil shit, and it feels like a nice little stab at those shitty ancestors of mine. are you shy? uhhh yeah and no??? like. I think I’m shy, since all interaction terrifies me and exhausts me, but everyone tells me I’m a social butterfly? and I’ve noticed in places I’m comfortable and confident, I do tend to be less shy and more involved and interactive? but I think I can be shy. a lot of waiting for other people to initiate because I’m too afraid to, struggling to talk or carry a conversation at times... I don’t know I think I’m overcomplicating this answer LOL preferred pronouns? she/her!  biggest pet peeves? gatekeeping, to be perfectly honest. I stopped following wrestling back in 2014 because when I first tried to get into the fandom, someone was trying to gatekeep a wrestler I also liked and had started making content for and they made me feel like shit for liking them, and I absolutely hated it. that’s why it took me an entire two years of quietly lurking in the wrestling fandom before I finally got brave enough to come out of the woodwork, and I’m grateful I’ve been so well received this time around. but now I’m hyper-sensitive to gatekeeping and I fucking hate it. no joke. and since it’s a pet peeve and I’m irked just remembering all that bs I went through, ima say I’m only a part of fandom to share my love of whatever that thing is with other people who love it too. I can’t stand anyone who thinks they have some sort of “claim” over a celebrity or a show or anything. get a different identity that isn’t wrapped up in that thing and stop seeing it as a threat when other people like it. be happy someone else is as passionate about that thing as you are and make a friend. damn. what is your favorite “dere” type? I’m pretty sure this is something with anime or that originated from anime, right? unfortunately I don’t know what they are so I can’t say LOL I don’t even know if I’m right about it coming from anime tbh rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be. 4, 5, but I’m putting in the foundation now and working to make it a 6, 7, or possibly 8 by a year or two from now. what’s your main blog? funnily enough? this one. my OTHER blog that was my main blog since I joined tumblr in 2009 got shoved to the side for this one last year LOL I assumed I’d log onto this blog once in awhile, but now it took over my whole damn life so here I am I guess list your side blogs and what they’re used for. I’m going to be fair and ONLY list my active ones because I have a few side blogs from when I role-played on tumblr that I haven’t touched in over a year. @doedreamss is my non-wrestling blog that WAS my main blog before this one, @cowboysht is my archive where I am ONLY putting my original gifsets/analysis/fanfiction so that one day I can offer people a blog of just my original work and no other posts (the queue is very slowly catching up I think I’ve queued posts up until june this year), @illfatedandstarcrossed is just a non-frequently used outlet for me to mope and dump emotions when I get sad about my relationship things (like a diary! but... public? and not my original thoughts? LOL), and then I have one more blog but it’s locked and private and it’s LITERALLY my diary where I can just vent when I got shit I wanna get off my chest but don’t necessarily want people to see it. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I probably won’t talk to you daily, tbh. I may not even talk to you weekly. socializing takes a lot out of me, on top of an already energy draining day-to-day in my personal life. I have a handful of people I connect with who I talk with frequently, but unfortunately as much as I’d love for it to be endless, I have to keep that list short for my own sanity. my infrequent conversations mean absolutely nothing about my lack of interest in you or how much I care about you. my granny once said I would be the perfect friend for someone you only want to talk to twice a month and she thought she was insulting me, but deadass I just said “YEAH! EXACTLY!!”

tagging: I really like this one so I WANT to tag people, but I feel braindead and also just want to post it cause I feel like I am definitely gonna forget to tag someone tbh aaaaahh okay okay I’m just gonna throw some names out there but please don’t feel pressured to do this (it is TWENTY questions) @kennyhoemega, @champbucks, @superkickparty, @adampage, @hintsofsunshine, @audreyhrnes, @sheslikealostflower, @lancearchers, @champnick, @janelanutella, @edgecution, @superrezzy00, @wardl0w, @writinglionqueen, @orangechuckiet, @hungmanhorsecarriage, @icouldbesus, @thatnerdwriter, @rampagewriting, @snarkandsarcasmftw, @tetsuyainthesky AND I DUNNO JUST ANYONE WHO WANTS TO OK I LOVE YOU ALL BYE

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

História

A/N #1: Finally! Fic number 3 of the Brazil series! I apologize for the wait. Let’s just say that stuff happened after I posted the second fic of the series that kinda zapped my creativity. Anyway, now I am back! 

Hottest Spot South of Havana (Part 1, Part 2) |  A Wonderful Surprise

Word count: ≈3000

Alice’s outfit

Alice could perceive the sunlight through her closed eyelids, but she didn’t want to open them just yet. Wanting to enjoy the warmth of the bed some more, she turned around, thinking her pillow felt firmer than she remembered. Her nose detected a familiar smell that reminded her of the sweater she slept in during cold winter nights at Hogwarts. Her boyfriend’s sweater. Charlie’s smell…

Charlie!

Her eyes opened up at that realization, landing on a sleeping freckled face with messy longish red hairs framing it. What was she doing in the same bed as Charlie? Where was Penny? In fact, where exactly was she? She did not recognize the room she was in as she quickly glanced around. As her mind was going at lightning speed, trying to remember how she ended up here, she looked under the covers. Thank Merlin, they still had their pyjamas on. Lost in those thoughts, she felt the pillow underneath her head shift slightly. She soon realized the “pillow” was actually Charlie’s shoulder, and as she slowly looked up towards his face, her green eyes met his warm brown eyes.

“Good morning,” said Charlie.

Alice stared at him, silent, her eyes wide.

“Why are you…?” started asking Charlie before being hit by a realization. He smirked. “You don’t remember how you ended up in my bed, do you?”

Alice shook her head, still staring at her boyfriend.

“Well, you missed my body so much, you just couldn’t help yourself…” started saying Charlie biting his lower lip to stifle a laugh he could feel coming as he saw Alice’s cheeks turn pink.

“What?!” exclaimed Alice, sitting up in the bed holding her face. “Oh, Merlin! They won’t stop teasing after…” She then heard Charlie’s laughter behind her. “Charlie Weasley!” she exclaimed, grabbing the pillow underneath his arm. “How dare you scare me like that?!” she added, throwing the pillow at Charlie’s face.

Charlie barely dodged the pillow as he sat up, still chuckling. “Sorry, it was just too easy, and you’re so cute when you blush,” he said, hugging her and giving her rosy cheek a small peck.

“Honestly, though, how did I end up here?”

“I was sleepy myself when you joined me, but if I remember, you were woken up by Tonks and Tulip getting ready for their hiking expedition, and I think you weren’t able to go back to sleep because of the racket they were making. So you came here,” explained Charlie.

“Oh… Yeah… I remember now. Tonks tripped over an ottoman in the living room; Tulip burst out laughing, followed by Tonks; Dennis escaped Tulip’s pocket, so they started looking all over the room for him while Penny and I just watched. I vaguely remember Penny suggesting I go over to your room since the boys were already waiting outside, so it would be peaceful,” said Alice, scratching her head.

“Feeling you cuddle up to me was a nice way to go back to sleep,” said Charlie, kissing the top of her head. “Are you sure you want to go to the museum today? I wouldn’t mind spending the day in bed with you,” his lips brushing against her neck.

“Charlie!” exclaimed Alice, scooting away from him. “Penny and Andre are probably out there waiting for us!”

“And it looks like Andre brought your outfit in here while we were sleeping,” said Charlie, noticing clothes neatly laid out on the armchair close to the window.

“All the more reason to not make them wait with… whatever you had in mind. They could come in at any moment.”

“Fine,” said Charlie as he started to remove his t-shirt.

Alice let out a small gasp as she backed away some more, only to find out she had reached the edge of the bed. She fell backward, the little thump it made alerting Charlie. He turned around and saw Alice’s ankles and feet above the bed.

“Alice, are you…?” 

Before he could finish his sentence, Alice raised a thumbs up to indicate she was okay, making the both of them laugh. They quickly got dressed, Alice using magic to get her hair into a braid. 

“I’m surprised Andre picked out the overall for the museum. When we were in Paris, he wanted to dress me in couture when we went to the Louvres,” said Alice as they left the bedroom.

“That’s because I know you and also because I thought we might walk around where the museum is after visiting it,” said Andre, who was sitting on the couch, sipping his cup of coffee.

“How… how long have you been sitting there?” asked Alice, frozen in place.

“Since I’ve been done with breakfast on the terrace with Penny,” said Andre, nodding towards the open doors leading to the terrace where Penny was still sitting, reading a book. “You know, I could get used to this lifestyle,” added Andre as he got up, placing his empty cup on the saucer on the marble top of the coffee table.

“We know,” said Alice and Charlie in unison.

“The two lovebirds have decided to join us?” asked Penny as she closed the doors of the terrace behind her.

“Seems like it,” said Andre as he held the door of the suite for Penny, Alice sticking her tongue at her Hufflepuff friend.

Alice and Charlie walked a few steps behind them as they made their way to the elevator.

“Good thing you didn’t give in to me earlier,” whispered Charlie.

Alice simply nodded, her eyes on their two friends waiting for them next to the lift.

After arriving at the Museu Histórico Nacional, they made their way to the inner courtyard, where carriages, probably used by the nobility back during the colonization and the Empire periods, were on display. Andre seemed to find them quite interesting as he stopped to look at them in detail, Penny staying with him as Alice and Charlie walked inside.

They slowly made their way around the permanent exhibits, which seemed to be divided into three periods: pre-colonization, colonization, and independence. The pre-colonization rooms mostly had native artifacts and prehistoric cave paintings. The rooms that pertained to the colonization period contained portraits of Iberian royals, including an equestrian depiction of Philip II of Spain, who ruled during part of the Iberian Union period between Spain & Portugal. There were also displays showing the extent of slavery in the colony as it was a big part of the economy back in those days.

“What’s slavery?” asked Charlie as they passed miniature models representing the slave trade.

Alice stopped in her tracks, turning around. “You don’t know? Actually, I shouldn’t be surprised. Grand-papa always said wizards live in a bubble. Well, in general, slaves are human beings that are owned by other human beings, and they are treated like property and traded as such. They have no rights. Slavery has existed for centuries, but back during the colonization period, Africans were taken by Europeans as slaves and were used in the colonies as cheap labour. That’s a very succinct summary of it.”

“How awful! Why would Muggles do that?”

“Greed? But it’s not like wizards are perfect. While a majority of house-elves love doing their work and find the idea of compensation insulting, the way some families treat them is… despicable,” said Alice, frowning, as she turned back and walked into the next room, Charlie following her.

They eventually reached the rooms that covered Brazil’s independence period, starting with a life-sized statue of Emperor Pedro I and the text of his acceptance letter to stay in Brazil in the early 1800s, marking the beginning of the country's independence period. There were also paintings representing naval military scenes, one of which seemed to have caught Charlie’s attention as he stood there, looking at it.

Alice, noticing he wasn’t close to her anymore, walked over to him to see what could be so fascinating about that painting. “Are there any dragons?” she said, a small smirk raising the corner of her mouth.

“What? No,” he said with a small chuckle. “No, it’s just most paintings we’ve seen so far represented daytime scenes, but this one is a nighttime scene. There’s something… enchanting about it, I guess, with only the moonlight illuminating the scene.”

“How poetic of you, Charlie Weasley,” said Alice, her lips forming a tender smile. 

“I have my moments,” said Charlie, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“But you’re right. The moonlight does have something magical. This reminds me… You know the book I was reading yesterday at the lovely library you brought me to?”

“The Brazilian fairytales one? Yes, I remember. What about it?”

“Well, there was this story about how night came.”

“It comes when the sun goes down, no?”

“Well, yes, but it’s a story about how the phenomenon that is night came to be, because at the very beginning of time, the story said, it was day all the time. There was no night.”

“Really? And how does it explain the arrival of night?” asked Charlie as they sat on the bench near the nighttime scenery.

“Well, the daughter of the Great Sea Serpent, who dwelt in the depths of the seas, married a human,” started Alice. “She left her home among the shades of the deep seas and came to live with her husband on earth, in the land of daylight. Because she wasn’t used to that much daylight, her eyes grew weary of the bright sunlight and her beauty faded. That saddened her husband, as he did not know what to do.

“‘O, if night would only come,’ she moaned as she tossed about wearily on her couch. ‘Here it is always day, but in my father’s kingdom, there are many shadows. O, for a little of the darkness of night!’

“Her husband listened to her and asked, ‘What is night? Tell me about it, and perhaps I can get a little of it for you.’

“‘Night,’ said the daughter of the Great Sea Serpent, ‘is the name we give to the heavy shadows which darken my father’s kingdom in the sea. I love the sunlight of your earth land, but I grow very tired of it. If we could have only a little of the darkness of my father’s kingdom to rest our eyes part of the time.’

“Her husband quickly called his three most faithful slaves. ‘I am about to send you on a journey,’ he told them. ‘You are to go to the kingdom of the Great Sea Serpent who lives in the depths of the seas and ask him to give you some of the darkness of night so that his daughter may not die here amid the sunlight of our land.’

“The three slaves made their way to the kingdom of the Great Sea Serpent. After a long, perilous journey, they arrived at his home in the depths of the seas and asked him to give them some of the shadows of night to carry back to the earth. The Great Sea Serpent gave them a big bag full at once. It was securely fastened, and the Great Sea Serpent warned them not to open it until they were once more in the presence of his daughter, their mistress.”

“I have a feeling they didn’t listen,” interrupted Charlie.

“You would be correct. So, the three slaves started out, bearing the big bag full of night upon their heads, but they soon heard strange sounds within the bag. It was the sound of the voices of all the night beasts, all the night birds, and all the night insects. It sounded like the night chorus from the jungles on the banks of the rivers to give you an idea. But as night was something no one had ever experienced on land, the three slaves had never heard sounds like those in all their lives. They were terribly frightened.

“‘Let us drop the bag full of night right here where we are and run away as fast as we can,’ said the first slave.

“‘We shall perish. We shall perish, anyway, whatever we do,’ cried the second slave.

“‘Whether we perish or not, I am going to open the bag and see what makes all those terrible sounds,’ said the third slave.”

“Oh, Merlin…” interjected Charlie.

“So,” continued Alice, “they laid the bag on the ground and opened it. Out rushed all the night beasts and all the night birds and all the night insects and out rushed the great black cloud of night. The slaves were more frightened than ever at the darkness and escaped to the jungle.

“The daughter of the Great Sea Serpent was waiting anxiously for the return of the slaves with the bag full of night. Ever since they had started out on their journey, she had looked for their return, shading her eyes with her hand and gazing away off at the horizon, hoping with all her heart that they would arrive quickly to bring the night. In that position, she was standing under a royal palm tree when the three slaves opened the bag and let night escape. ‘Night comes. Night comes at last,’ she cried, as she saw the clouds of night upon the horizon. Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep there under the royal palm tree.

“When she awoke, she felt greatly refreshed. She was once more the happy princess who had left her father’s kingdom in the depths of the great seas to come to the land. She was now ready to see the day again. She looked up at the bright star shining above the royal palm tree and said, ‘O, bright, beautiful star, from now on you shall be called the morning star, and you shall herald the approach of day. You shall reign queen of the sky at this hour.’

“Then she called all the birds about her and said to them, ‘O, wonderful, sweet singing birds, henceforth I command you to sing your sweetest songs at this hour to herald the approach of day.’ The cock was standing by her side. ‘You,’ she said to him, ‘shall be appointed the watchman of the night. Your voice shall mark the watches of the night and shall warn the others that the madrugada comes.’ To this very day in Brazil, we call the early morning the madrugada. The cock announces its approach to the waiting birds. The birds sing their sweetest songs at that hour, and the morning star reigns in the sky as queen of the madrugada.

“Once it was daytime again, the slaves came out of their hiding place. Their master turned them into monkeys for having disobeyed the Great Sea Serpent by not opening the bag only in the presence of his daughter. To this very day, one sees the mark upon the monkeys’ lips, where they bit off the wax which sealed the bag; and in Brazil, night leaps out quickly upon the earth just as it leapt quickly out of the bag in those days at the beginning of time. And all the night beasts and night birds and night insects give a sunset chorus in the jungles at nightfall.”

“Wait… Did a Muggle really write that? There are a lot of elements in there that seem magical,” pointed out Charlie, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, most Muggle fairytales have magical elements. It’s like they know about us and our world without really knowing… Like when you heard The Sorcerer’s Apprentice at the Proms. You said how the music really fit the feeling of magic, even though a Muggle composed it. Perhaps people can feel it without realizing it, and some things we see in their tales come from the days when Muggles knew more about us, but now that knowledge is viewed as pure fantasy instead of truth,” said Alice, her eyes brightening.

“Maybe… Wait, aren’t sea serpents a type of dragon?” asked Charlie, smiling broadly.

“Hmm? Oh, hum, yes, I think so, but you’re the expert on the matter,” said Alice, her eyes on the painting, but her thoughts on something else.

“So based on that story, we have nights because of a dragon?”

Alice stared at him, quirking her eyebrows. “I guess so…”

“Cool,” said Charlie, nodding his head in satisfaction.

Alice shook her head slightly, biting her lower lip to avoid laughing. Of course, the dragon would be the one thing to stick with Charlie. Lost in their respective thoughts, neither of them noticed Penny and Andre making their way to them.

“There you are!” exclaimed Penny, standing in front of them, her hands on her hips.

“I am starving,” said Andre, holding his stomach.

“Sorry, we didn’t see the time,” said Alice, as she got up with Charlie.

Penny rolled her eyes, smirking. “You two don’t seem to notice the time go by when you’re together.”

“Shut up,” mumbled Alice, taking a hold of Penny’s arm.

“Did you know that there’s a story that says a dragon is the reason we have nights,” said Charlie as he walked in front of them with Andre.

“Ok, maybe in Charlie’s case, it’s when dragons are involved that he forgets about the concept of time,” whispered Penny, making Alice snort with laughter.

After eating lunch at the museum’s café, they looked at the other exhibits before returning to the hotel. The rest of the afternoon was spent around the pool as they waited for their friends, Charlie wanting to tell Barnaby about the dragon story. Alice stared at the same page of her book all that time, her mind still on fairytales and their origin...

A/N #2: Thank you for reading my fic! I hope you enjoyed it! Now, before someone comments one what Alice says regarding house-elves, I based it on this article. The fairytale Alice tells is from HERE and the painting that catches Charlie’s attention is THIS ONE.  The reason the title is “História” is because in Portuguese, it means both “history” and “story,” which I felt worked with the story. Feel free to leave a comment, including constructive criticism.