#jonesy/beaver

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

Really need to finish writing my Dreamcatcher fic....and write another Long Walk fic.....and write another Talisman fic.....and write a Christine fic.....and finish my Dark Tower fic....and--

[thotteus-beaumont]

Somebody please do a South Park Dreamcatcher by Stephen King AU because there's so much potential. They fit that ridiculous horror with odd comedy so well.....

I don't know the South Park characters well enough to draw who'd be who out of the characters but somebody out there does SO👀

I could see Kenny as Beaver...

Maybe Stan or Craig as Pete...

I don't know! The ships from Dreamcatcher might have to be changed around for the sake of this specific AU?😬

[greysanguinity]

❛ This rich-people shit is weird. ❜ - from beav!

❝    can you at least pretend you're not from the slums of derry, maine ? it's just a tie.   ❞

❝    can't wear your doc lesbians either, beav - boy.   ❞ a slightly judgemental look is thrown his way, a sly kind of smugness that read: i know something you don't know through the reflection in the mirror. jonesy snorts, using his cane to point at beaver.

❝    if you fuck this up, you're in her shit books forever.   ❞

[small-sinclair]

Can you do a Dogs of Ambrose?

Dogs of Ambrose

Jonesy. You know her. You love her. The Sinclair Brothers worship her. She is the pack leader and the mayor of this town. If she doesn’t like the dog that comes to town or is attacked by another dog, the Sinclairs will get rid of it. No questions asked.

Indiana Bones (Indy). He’s a brown and white pit bull with the biggest heart ever! Vincent and Lester came up with that name and Bo loves it! He loves digging and digging and digging and digging and digging. He comes home with bones like deer bones and skulls. Indy and Jonesy are married.

Bo-utiful. She’s a white and black hound dog that sits in Bo’s shop. She hangs out with Bo all day either by playing, sleeping, or just being there with him. She’s the sweetest doggie ever.

Beaver. This light brown lab-German Shepard mix was found by Lester while he was beaver hunting up north. He decided to bring him home after Beaver jumped into his truck and barked at him.

Peach. She’s brown, grey, and black mut that always brings a smile to anyone. Bo’s having a bad day? She’ll do a little dance. Vincent is sad? She gets him to smile. Lester having a bad day? She’ll run and bring the biggest stick every! A tourist taking their last breaths and scared? She’ll lay next to them and put her head on their chest, staying until the heartbeat fades.

Sunny. He’s a sweet little golden retriever that Lester found in the kill pit. Shy at first but will love you until the end. Will steal your food.

Alaska. She’s a red husky that Vincent adopted after he killed her owner for tying it outside in the heat (it was 102 that day). He takes her on walks and lets her sleep next to him between Jonesy and him.

Canon. Just as the name implies, he’s a canon. He’s Bo’s hunting beagle, and he’s good at bird and gator hunting. He runs fast, kills fast, and eats fast. Play fetch with him! He loves it!

Pepper Flaks. Vicncent’s not a fan of little dogs, but this grey and gold Chihuahua won his heart after she did a little dance. Her favorite food is pepper jack cheese, grilled green pepper, red peppers, bell peppers, pepper flacks— if it has peppers in it, she’ll eat it.

Cyclone. The oldest sausage dog you’ll ever see. He’s been alive longer than the twins, so that should say something. He hardly walks or moves around, but moves just enough to show he’s alive. Survived 3 heart attacks, a broken rib, 4 coyote fights (he’s won all 4), and has killed snakes. His back legs don’t work, going blind, and he can’t hear well, but he’s a happy boy, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t outlive the Sinclairs. 

Bluey. She’s a blue and grey puppy heeler :3 . Lester found her and is forever happy with this little girl. She loves going on adventures with her sister and hanging out with Jonesy.

Bingo. She’s a golden and orange heeler. She is sisters to Bluey. She loves running in circles and “singing” with Indy.

Now, the strangeness of the 3 Black German Shepherds and how they were found:

Demon. This one-eye black German Shepard is silent and scares everyone. Vincent found him curled in the back of the church under a destroyed cross, sleeping under the Virgin Mary statue. He stays near Vincent most of the time and attacks victims if they fight Vincent. (If you squint real hard, the dog looks like Vincent.) No one knows where he came from or how he got into the locked church.

Devil. Looks exactly like Demon, but has all of its eyes. He’s loud and friend, but don’t get him mad or in a corner; he will bite. Bo took him in as his own. Devil walks along side Bo and only answers to him and no one else. (If you squint, Bo and him are the same). Again, no one knows how or when these pups got in the church or how the cross got burned. But does anyone know why the Virgin Mary statue had water coming from her eyes?

Saint. A black German Shepherd with a little white cross on his head. Lester found her on the same day when Demon and Devil were found, but Lester didn’t know about it. He learned about them when he brought Saint over a day after. Lester woke up, made coffee, and and looked in his living room. Underneath the ram skull on his wall, Saint laid asleep. The doors were locked and there was no way Saint could’ve just came in. Saint is the sweetest, happiest, cutes puppy every! He loves people and being around Lester. Enjoys the roadkill pit, too.

[brightbeautifulthings]

Dreamcatcher by Stephen King

"SSDD: Sometimes it's just what you say. And sometimes you believe in nothing but the darkness. And then how do you go along?"

Year Read: 2005, 2023

Rating: 4/5

Thoughts: Against all logic, I still love this book. I read it for the first time in high school after instantly falling in love with the movie, and it was one of those books I practically memorized and internalized so hard that I don't even realize some of my thinking comes from here (until I'm rereading and going omg that's where that idea came from). It isn't just nostalgia that makes me love it though. As you probably know from my reviews, I went through a breakup, a summer depression, and a hideous book slump (the latter two from which I'm still clawing my way free). I was a little afraid to reread this, fearing it wouldn't hold up and that would only make the slump worse, but I flew through this like I was still a teenager, devouring books at a time when all of them are still new and wonderful. It might be the easiest reading I've done all year, and I was happy to sink back into King's world with my old Derry friends.

Objectively, I know this is not King's best. It's brutally gory, scatological, and full of some downright repulsive body horror. Had I not already internalized King's aliens at a young age and accepted them as perfectly fine, I might have been way more put off by his unnecessarily gross biology. (Although one need only look at the chest-bursting Xenomorphs to know this is practically standard for the genre. I don't think there's anything in here worse than that, and they're about on par for truly awful ways to die.) I'm not even typically a fan of alien novels, so this already beats the odds.

Assuming you can get past the gore, or that you're as desensitized to it as I am, it's also extremely ableist in its characterization of Douglas Cavell ("Duddits", affectionately), a character with Down's Syndrome who is also the magical key to defeating a race of aliens. King frequently falls into this unfortunate trope of giving his minority characters super special (and often stereotypical) magical powers, and Duddits has the added advantage of Incorruptible Pureness even in the face of bullying, cancer, and gut-eating aliens. There are also frequent slurs, "retard" being the most frequent, and it's used even by the main characters. It forces readers into the awkward position of being grateful to even see a disabled character portrayed positively, while recognizing that the characterization comes with its own issues.

Yet, I find myself returning to my original thesis: Despite its very real and present problems, I adore this book, and it's really the characters that make or break it. I fell in love with Duddits, Jonesy, Henry, Beaver, and Pete at first sight, and their friendship is at the heart of the novel. King does characters and childhood friendships so well, and Dreamcatcher's live and breathe off the page every bit as much as the Loser's Club from IT. I love them in the flashbacks and the present timeline, and their love and loyalty to each other effortlessly carry the story.

Despite its hefty page-count (nearly 700), the pace never lagged for me either, and I never found myself getting bogged down in the minutiae of the history or world-building the way I sometimes do with King. It's fairly well-focused on character development and moving the plot forward, and the only times my interest waned were in Kurtz's chapters. He's a fairly banal villain alongside Mr. Gray, and I would always rather spend my time with the boys and their odd, Shining-like power. I'd forgotten a lot of the differences between the book and movie lore, aside from the very obvious differences in the endings, so that was a fun comparison as well. I think it works without getting too in-depth about why the aliens work the way they do (but I've also been hugely spoiled by Mira Grant's deep dives into supernatural biology). All in all, this is still one of my favorite King novels, and I won't be hesitant to read it again when I want to visit my friends.

[reddie-ao3feed]

Growing Pains

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hqIPndi by The_Magic_Lava_Lamp The Tozier-Kaspbrak household was unsettlingly quiet when Beaver decided to pull himself away from his studying. He’d been noticing some sort of funny feeling ----‘Henry might know a better word for it.’---- pinching at his guts for the last month or so. He mostly kept that ‘funny feeling’ to himself. As he crossed the hallway to the stairs, he wondered what version of himself he’d take up today. Not that his problem was that serious or anything but he’d definitely keep the identity crisis to himself, no sense in worrying his family when Richie and Eddie already had so much going on. Words: 5732, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Dreamcatcher - Stephen King, IT - Stephen King Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Joe "Beaver" Clarendon, Gary "Jonesy" Jones, Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Douglas "Duddits" Cavell, Henry Devlin, Pete Moore Relationships: Joe "Beaver" Clarendon/Gary "Jonesy" Jones, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hqIPndi

[vesper-roux]

3, 4 and 8 for the book meme? :)

Thank you for the ask! <3

3: What’s something you read recently and wanted to argue with (either with the book or the author or the fans)?

It's not recent, but the most prominent read I DNFed because of a rant I had planned in my head is Dreamcatcher by Stephen King. I tried to read it when I was 16, but I don't think I even broke 100 pages in it. I was going through the high of liking Mr. Mercedes. Jonesy's out hunting, and he finds the guy in the woods (the one who sets off the plot for the main cast), and he spends the next, like, 5 pages going through the psychology of why he shouldn't, why he wants to, and how he recognizes why this is happening... of shooting the guy he knows is not an animal... just because the guy isn't wearing bright orange or red forest clothing so hunters don't get confused and shoot.

I could forgive it if this was coming from Henry, who's a psychiatrist. But Jonesy is a professor, I think for literature or history. I could be getting this wrong, but either way, five pages to explain why someone wants to, shouldn't, and finally decides not to shoot a person isn't exactly the most thrilling read, especially from someone whose characterization doesn't make sense to know this psychology stuff. Unless Jonesy and Henry spend a lot of time talking about their professions to each other. King might argue this makes sense because Jonesy heard it from his father's friend, but the damage was done for me. I didn't DNF right after that 5 page inner monologue because I distinctly remember Jonesy's fondness for Beaver instantly smiling when he meets new people (Beaver met the guy), but it was pretty soon after that.

4: What are your top 3 comfort reads?

I haven't re-read it yet, but if I felt really low but like I wanted to feel something through a book, I'd re-read "Nona the Ninth." It's a terribly sad book, but something about it skyrocketed it to my favorite of the series.

A Thousand Splendid Suns is a good one, despite also being terribly sad. I cried during my read of it, and it's engaging and resonant.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet deals with heavy subjects, but it's balanced with, well, sweet moments, and the ending and main goal for the MC is heart-warming.

A lot of the books I like are kinda depressing, so this is difficult question.

8: What series has most pleased you?

Okay, so I'm going to sound like such a fake reader, but it's difficult to get me into new things, for me to finish a book, and much more to continue a series. I still have to finish "Words of Radiance." I still have to finish "The Savior's Sister," which is more than difficult when it's a retelling of the first book from a different perspective, I'm not much for re-reads, and the first book took me two years to get through. I still have to finish "The Girl Who Played with Fire." I DNFed a bunch of series and need to read more in general. So... Hmm... based on my limited reading experience, I would say it's a toss up between The Stormlight Archives and The Locked Tomb for how much I love the characters and worlds, but I'm actually up to date on The Locked Tomb, so I have to say that one. (Are we surprised?)

[todsterdude1]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Stephen King Novel

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

Growing Pains

Summary:  The Tozier-Kaspbrak household was unsettlingly quiet when Beaver decided to pull himself away from his studying. He’d been noticing some sort of funny feeling ----‘Henry might know a better word for it.’---- pinching at his guts for the last month or so. He mostly kept that ‘funny feeling’ to himself. As he crossed the hallway to the stairs, he wondered what version of himself he’d take up today. Not that his problem was that serious or anything but he’d definitely keep the identity crisis to himself, no sense in worrying his family when Richie and Eddie already had so much going on.

Fandom: IT & Dreamcatcher by Stephen King

Ships: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak, Beaver/Jonesy

Word Count: 5,719

Sunday

Outside the house, an old tree stretches toward the window. It blocks the sun and moon from shining their beams down into the living room and sheds its leaves all over the lawn. From season to season, it endured. The boy, who was not quite a boy anymore, sat on the couch where no light shined and remembered all the summers he spent climbing through its branches. All those springs he exhausted his friends by clambering up just to see how far he could jump from. But ‘Who cares?’ he thought. Who gave a shit if he had treasured memories of his Dads playing with him under the shade of a dumbass, old tree? Why should he care that they’re cutting it down? 

The boy, not a boy, blinked his heavy eyes and tried to keep them open this time. But that call of sleep was wavering in and out like a sweet wave of water. 

“Beav?” 

He breached the water and opened those damned eyes again. “Yeah?” 

His Dad, whose only occupational hazard was a criminal load of insecurity, stood before him in what a smaller version of Beaver Tozier-Kaspbrak would’ve called his Monster the Grouch pajamas. “Didja like the joke or should I change the set-up?” He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and waited. 

He would’ve laughed, really, but the drowsiness was beginning to drown him and he missed the whole beginning. “Can you repeat it–?” 

He cut himself off as he heard the bedroom door to his right open and the gentle pitter-pattering of light feet on carpet. ‘Ooop’ he thought pathetically as he tried to throw a life preserver out to his slipping consciousness. 

“Richie, what are you doing keeping our son up at three in the goddamn morning?” The tone was pissy but the sound of it was actually extremely comforting to Beaver because it meant his Dad was mad but also a little bit amused. 

“Well, ya see, Eds. I woke up for a little ‘midnight’ snack and ran into Beav, who was already awake–” 

“It’s true. I woke for the unmistakable taste of Sonic-Spooners.” Which was true. That had been his original task, hadn’t it? A little bit of cereal in the middle of the night. 

“Hush, Joey.” Eddie rolled his eyes fondly and came forward to playfully run a hand through his son’s hair. “Listen, Rich, I know you’re a little bit worried about filming your special soon–” 

“A little?” Richie chuckled, hands on his hips. This did not phase Eddie.

“But you can’t keep our son awake while you practice. Besides, you need your sleep too.” 

Beaver settled into the couch and listened to them bicker back and forth until one of them, he couldn’t tell which, came to their senses and carried their teenage son to bed. 

       ______________________________________________________

The Tozier-Kaspbrak household was unsettlingly quiet when Beaver decided to pull himself away from his studying. He’d been noticing some sort of funny feeling ----‘Henry might know a better word for it.’---- pinching at his guts for the last month or so. He mostly kept that ‘funny feeling’ to himself. As he crossed the hallway to the stairs, he wondered what version of himself he’d take up today. Not that his problem was that serious or anything but he’d definitely keep the identity crisis to himself, no sense in worrying his family when Richie and Eddie already had so much going on.

He took two steps, ‘Wonder what I can have for lunch?’

Three more, ‘Who’s at home right now?’ 

One more, ‘Have I made enough of a difference to pass the History test?’

Reaching the bottom and making it to the kitchen, ‘Maybe Jonesy will wanna go to a movie or something.’

“Good morning, Beav.” Jonesy briefly looked up from his pile of books with a quick smile. His hand never lifted from her paper, Beaver wondered if his handwriting suffered from the lack of attention but he doubted it. He didn’t even wonder what he was doing here so early because the Tozier-Kaspbrak household was usually full of his friends. 

“What are you studying so hard for?” He asked, voice habitually coming off as disgusted. 

“It’s poetry.” he waved a thin book around with a look of adoration. “Something you’re not familiar with.” He playfully stuck out his tongue.  

Beaver chuckled, plucking the knife covered in peanut butter from his mouth. “Sure I am.” He ignored his unimpressed look. “Music is pretty poetic, Jonesy.” He smugly slapped his shoulder.

Jonesy raised a brow and followed his path to the fridge with his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure Bon Jovi is fully capable of writing in a--” he strutted back to the table and flipped through one of the books. “--an intelligent yet romantic style that simultaneously undermines our society without fear.” he seemed passionate and thrilled. 

Beaver rolled his eyes from behind the fridge door. “I find it more thrilling to hear you poetically undermine me, Jonesy.” He feigned fondness, smacking his hand to his chest. Jonesy shuffled his books and laughed. He cleared a spot on the table and patted the chair next to him. 

“Come here, I’ll read some to you so that you’re ready for our test the day after tomorrow.” 

“Jesus Christ Bananas.” Beaver cried. “We have a test? I’m so gonna fail that shit.” 

From his right, in came his Dad with about a thousand papers and a coffee mug in his hands. “Always encouraging to hear your son say that.” Eddie approached the counter, pushed away the open jar of peanut butter, and finally set down his balancing act. “Please eat a real breakfast, Joey.” 

Beaver slid the knife from between his teeth and smiled. “Can we come watch Dad film his special on Tuesday?”  

Eddie briefly paused from shoving things into his briefcase. He had an hour or so before he left but still, he managed to look like he was in a clusterfuck of work. He seemed to consider the question this time, which was way more than he did last time it was asked, and looked over Beaver and Jonesy. “You need to go to school…” 

“It won’t kill me to miss one day!”  

“You know what, no.” He waved his hand by his ear, almost like he was swatting a bug. “I already decided. Now why don’t you invite the other boys over and study together?” 

Beaver heaved a sigh but nodded. “Alright. We’ll study.” 

       ______________________________________________________

Elliott: “No. Look. Now. Swear it. The most excellent promise you can make. Swear as my only brother. On our lives!”

Michael: “Don't get so heavy. I swear”

Beaver, Jonesy, Pete, Henry, and Douglas sat comfortably on the couch as the movie played through its running time. The house was sort of quiet, with the parents gone. 

“Would you keep an Alien as a pet?” Douglas quirked a brow and turned to his right but Henry was already dozing. He was in that liminal state of being half-awake and half-asleep. 

“He’s not Elliot’s pet, Duds. He is his friend.” Pete answered, not moving at all. “Don’t you pay attention?” He puffed out a drowsy laugh. 

“Wake up, Henry! You’re missing everything.” Douglas frowned and it didn't take very long for Henry to pick his head up and shake himself back into reality. 

Just as Beaver’s eyes fell back on the screen, a thought occurred to him. “You know they’re cutting down our tree…” He trailed off, hoping….

“What? They can’t do that!” 

“Noooo, not our tree!” 

He smiled to himself, knowing that Jonesy’s righteousness and Douglas’s pure love would win him the attention he wanted. He sat up straight in his seat and nodded with a frown. 

“When are they cutting it down?” Henry asked, sleep still clear in his eyes. 

“Tuesday,” Beaver answered, echoing what his Dad had told him. But as he said it, something wonderful occurred to him. “We should cut school and sit up in the branches, then they can’t cut it. I’ve seen it on TV.”  

“Yes! Let’s do it.” Douglas shuffled in his seat on the carpet, grabbing onto Pete’s leg, who nodded along. 

“I don’t mind cutting class.” Pete shrugged, looking at Henry the way he always did. The other boy looked suspicious and Beaver wondered if this would be the end of his master plan. 

“Is this worth taking such a stand over?” Henry asked, soaked in reality as always. Beaver nodded his head vigorously. “I don’t know–” 

He didn’t plan on resorting to such manipulation but the time called for it. So, Beaver pinched Pete’s thigh and ignored the death glare he got in return, instead he just gestured to Henry with his chin. ‘Come on man, do it.’ it said. 

Pete, luckily, didn’t ask questions and went right for the puppy-dog eyes. A true subtle form of manipulation that only ever seemed to work for him. And man did Henry cave like always. 

“Fine. I guess I’m in.” 

Jonesy smiled, looking at Beaver, who was surprised it hadn’t occurred to him that their test was also on Tuesday. 

         ______________________________________________________

Monday

Seven o’clock in the morning & Beaver had only slept for a good three hours. He trudged down the stairs and performed the classic rituals of trying to wake his body; Rubbing hard at his eyes, cracking his neck, yawning, stretching out his legs, and slipping his glasses on to distract from the drowsy look on his face. He’d expected that pinch-in-his-gut feeling to be gone once he’d slept that day away. And he thought that was true when he initially woke up under his sheets but as he blinked up at the ceiling…but an unnerving drop in his stomach signaled he was wrong. ‘Damn, what is that?’

‘Maybe breakfast will help.’ He rolled his lips together and hoped his resting face didn’t scream exhausted. 

His Dad was pouring orange juice into a shining glass for Pete while a jelly sandwich covered the bushel of flowers on his dish. The congealed purple goo squeezed a little from the sides of the thick white bread as Pete took his bites. Beaver couldn’t help but smile at the genuine care his parents seemed to have for his friends, who truly had no business coming over so early in the morning. 

Coming towards the table, he annoyingly stuck his fingers onto Pete’s shoulder. He squealed but the sound was muffled by his sandwich. Eddie glanced up with a grin. “Good morning, Joey.” 

“G’morning.” He stuffed a bagel into his mouth. 

Jonesy glanced up from his paperback but didn’t move his legs, which were still resting on the cushion of the other boy’s chair when he sat down. Beav shoved them near the edge but not off entirely. “Beaver?” 

He looked up, bagel still in his mouth but he’d yet to actually take a bite. Instead, he held it between his teeth in an especially youthful & endearing way. “Hmmm?” 

Jonesy, looking back down at his book (An assigned reading assignment that Beaver should also be halfway through by now) “That one has raisins in it.” 

He spat it out straight away (well, more like he simply opened his mouth wider), not even blinking as it plopped onto his plate. “Ah man, gross.” He whined, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. He wanted an exchange and turned on his chair to get as far away from that bagel as possible. 

“Joey, I thought you liked raisins?” Eddie pursed his lips and looked a bit tired. Nonetheless, he gladly handed him a plain bagel. 

‘Much appreciated.’ Beaver smiled and broke a piece off. “Maybe when I was eight.” He let a shrug roll off his shoulders. “I think it goes back to that Halloween.” He waved his finger in the air while a chill danced down his body. “The one where Mr. Chambre gave out those little cartons and I bet Pete that I could stuff 3 packs in my mouth--” 

“And you threw up all over your carpet before bed?” Richie vibrantly entered the room. His presence was made known by the sound of his exuberant steps before he’d even spoken. 

“Yeah. The puke was orange if I remember correctly.” That addition admittedly wasn’t helpful to the conversation at all but their disgusted faces made it that much sweeter than those awful raisins. 

“Can I have a raisin bagel?” Jonesy peeked out from his book and pointed down at the food with a hungry expression. 

“Sure, go crazy.” Beaver leaned back on the counter, the eating couldn’t wait until he sat down again. 

“I'm not picky.” Jonesy’s sweet energy flourished as he happily stole the food and tossed it up gently a few times before taking a large bite. Beaver was too distracted by the sight to really care that Jonesy was lying. That little sucker was picky as shit. 

‘Batter up, batter up. Here comes Jonesy with the pitch! It’s goinnnggg and…it’s outta here! What will be next? Fastball? Curveball? Pumpernickel? Sesame?!’ Beaver shared a private chuckle with himself. ‘Maybe breakfast was helping’ cause as he stood there with his new bagel, the drowsy internal weight lifted a little. 

         ______________________________________________________

Mounds of grossly warm and milky ice cream puddles splashed onto the hard plastic trays in the hot lunchroom. It was the school’s attempt at a treat but the thick & gooey creams were sizzling into chocolate and vanilla soups under the eye of unforgiving fluorescent lights. 

Due to his taste buds being sick of the disgusting Derry high food, Beav’s lunch was going to be limited to carrots (they couldn’t possibly make those any worse) and Jonesy’s extra cookie if he wanted something substantial enough to keep him full. As he tapped at his tragically thin wallet, an especially built guy cut him in line. He mindlessly just let that happen ‘More trouble than it’s worth’. The lunch lady’s ponytail bounced while she attempted to juggle the student’s demands. It brought forth an uncomfortably numb feeling in his head. He wanted very badly to escape the line. 

He nearly ran back to his table when given his chance and nearly fell off the seat next to Jonesy. 

“How’s your day going?” Jonesy laughed, aimlessly rolling a plastic fork across his lips. 

Beaver steadied himself and pulled at his jacket like nothing happened. “Oh, I’m burning that afternoon oil, Jonesy.” Sarcasm so thick that it reminded him of that raisin puke again (‘Disgusting’). “If you want the real answer--” 

“And I do.” He pushed the extra cookie over to Beaver.

“I had a small chat with Missy Tramel in the hall, I passed my history test, had to punch my locker open cause I forgot my combination again and I really have to pee cause I bet Pete that I could hold it in all day.” He blurted this all in the span of two seconds, not because he was flustered or anything. No. He merely had to pee that bad. 

“Surprisingly, I got all that.” Jonesy grinned, sort of proud of himself. “Congrats on the test, by the way, I noticed you were cramming for it.” He took a bite of the gross rectangular pizza. 

Beaver raised a brow. “You did?” 

“Sure. You had some intense notes on your desk the other day.” He shrugged casually. “Plus, I borrowed your history book, remember? I saw that doodle on the back cover--the one of your head exploding like one of those Bugs Bunny cartoons.” That slipped a giggle out of Beaver as he answered. 

A blush ran down Beaver’s neck like a sweat-inducing fever. “Oh.” He awkwardly chuckled, leg bouncing up and down incredibly fast. That pinched feeling returned to his stomach.

“Dude, go to the bathroom!” Jonesy poked him with his elbow and laughed. “Pete isn’t even in this lunch period. He’ll never know.” 

Beaver steadied his leg and shoved half the cookie into his mouth. “I can’t dishonor a bet by cheating.” He went through the motions of indifference though he felt teased by the boy a table over.  ‘Absolutely gulping the hell outta your water, Todd...or Tom? You know...you might even be Jacob?’ Beaver paused but couldn’t come up with a definitive name. ‘Whoever you are, if you don’t quit it, I’m gonna piss---’

“Beaver?” Jonesy slapped his shoulder. 

“Yeah?” He felt groped out of his moment but didn’t let that show in his physical presence. 

“Do you think you have enough time left to ask Missy Tramel to a movie before you pee your pants?” He flashed his usual smile.

Jonesy never truly seemed aware of his own charm. Everything that made up his character was warm and earnest. Beaver felt that, under this new shadow, he now paled in comparison. Beaver bit into his cheek with subconscious strength. “Of course. I always have time for her.” He smirked and exaggerated his glance towards her. “Why?” He asked this without moving his eyes from Missy, wanting to make his attraction apparent. 

“Well…” He rubbed his hand down the back of his neck because he was mostly nervous when Beaver wasn’t looking. “Sadie Carter from my 6th period asked me if I wanted to go see the double showing of the ‘Nightmare on Elm Street movies’ tonight, after our tree saving of course--” He added quickly. “And I thought we could go double cause....” He trailed off. 

Beaver tore his eyes from Missy and found Jonesy again. “She asked you out?” A miserable reply to a detail so minuscule. He was aware. But the notion that Jonesy easily booked dates because all the girls asked him out was vaguely upsetting. ‘Where’s the sweat? I gotta cheer myself on for a week before I can ask a girl out and she still says no.’ 

“Yeah-” 

‘No big deal.’ Beav’s misery deepened a little. 

“--Anyway, I thought you could double with us being that I’m a little nervous–”

“Awww, Jonesy’s nervous!” He reached out and poked at him a few times, maybe because he felt a tiny surge of happiness doing it or maybe because the shifting on his seat helped him with the pee-problem. 

Jonesy waved passively. “Would ya just ask her?” His self-conscious tone became relaxed just as quickly as it’d appeared. 

A twist of that depressingly painful anxiety twisted in Beaver’s gut. He looked back to Missy, sitting there with her girlfriends with carefree and unstrained bliss. ‘Fuck. Maybe I should just go to the bathroom instead.’ It was only normal to be nervous around girls. That’s what Pete said. 

Beaver stood from his seat and was starting to mentally cheer himself on (♫‘Beaver, Beaver. He’s our man. If he can’t do it---’♫) when Jonesy grabbed his arm and pulled him back, his touch was warm. (♫‘She’ll be glad…’♫). 

“And please go to the bathroom on your way back.” He chuckled, swinging Beaver’s arm in his hand instead of letting go. “You’re pretty much a human water balloon at this point.”  

Beaver pulled out of his grip and laughed all the way up to Missy Tramel’s table. He felt a bit more comfortable than he’d usually be when it came to girls once he remembered that she had actually laughed at his jokes in the hallway before 4th period. Since he’d become interested in dating, he couldn’t remember a time something like that happened. 

Missy was sipping her soda through a blue and white striped straw, liquid shooting past her smile, Beaver could almost feel the carbonation on his own tongue. She had gorgeous red hair which framed her face in a frighteningly perfect way. But he supposed that her attitude was what initially caught his eye. Missy was sweetly feminine but she could also run a mile in six minutes & beat some of the guys in a basketball shoot-off. 

“Missy?” He tried not to sound too nervous. 

She turned, friendly enough. “Hi, Joey.” Briefly, she hid her mouth behind her cookie (crunchy on the outside but soft in the middle) to avoid showing chocolate in her teeth. 

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and shuffled a bit on his feet. Perhaps it suited him better to let the discomfort show...could it possibly come off as ‘adorably shy’? Beaver almost hoped so.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to go to the movies with me, my friend, and his date?” He muttered, hoping that his point came across… ‘Please realize I’m trying to ask you to be my date?’. “There doing a double showing of the ‘Nightmare on Elm Street movies--” 

Missy set her cookie down on a greasy sheet of her math homework peeking from her folder, sending a chocolate chunk through the air & smudging an unmistakable doodle of a crocodile. Its teeth were sharp, chowing down on an unfinished equation. The animal was most definitely drawn by some boy in her class…Beaver wished to be swallowed whole by the creature. “I’d really love to, Joey.” Her smile screamed pity. “But I have plans that night.” 

“I didn’t actually say what day we were planning on yet, Missy.” He wasn’t surprised. “It is playing all week.” He shrugged, not having much energy left for the conversation. 

A blush of embarrassment bloomed across Missy’s face, her friends looked anywhere but at either of them. 

“Really, It’s fine with me, Missy.” He flashed a ‘what can you do?’ sort of grin and walked off. 

“It’s a no-go, Jonesy.” He said simply, that pinched feeling turning into a full ache. “You’ll just have to go on your own.” And the thought of that….well, that felt worse than any pain in his stomach. 

         ______________________________________________________

Eddie Kaspbrak-Tozier sat across from his husband with a slight smirk on his face, stabbing at his salad aimlessly as he watched him speak. Richie was especially animated on this day which was always a nice treat. “You’ve been through this punchline over a hundred times, Rich.” 

The other man took a sip from the glass of pop he’d been swishing around and shook his head. “I’m aware, Eds—thank you.” Richie awkwardly mumbled to the waiter who brought the chicken he’d been eagerly waiting for. He was a young guy with hair that dangled just above his shoulders, Eddie guessed the white car plastered with Grateful Dead bumper stickers in the parking lot was his ride. “If you couldn’t tell, I’m nervous.” 

A laugh. “I know and it’s a riot seeing you so…” He waved his sweaty fork around, “Uptight. Usually, that’s me.” Ignoring Richie’s pathetic attempts to smack him from across the table, Eddie swallowed a bit of strawberry. He’d requested no cashews because though he’d progressed in many ways, he was still convinced he was allergic to those damn things. “I only have a half-hour left of my break though. I’d like not to spend it hearing the same joke over and over.” 

“How would you like to spend it?” The smart mouth asked. 

“Do you think Joey’s struggling in school?” Eddie asked abruptly, setting down his utensil and looking at his husband with his large-ass eyes. 

Richie wiped his face with a napkin and leaned back on his chair. “The same way I did.” He said, thumping the table in a little drumbeat. “The kid’s smart when he pushes…he’s just not pushing.” 

Breathing through his nose, Eddie put his chin in his hand. “What helped you?” 

Richie paused, giving the question real thought. In the meantime, the Dead Head waiter returned with another glass of pop. From the way his eyes lingered, Eddie could tell that he recognized his husband and maybe wished to say something but didn’t dare. It was endearing, in a way. “Ben and Mike, mostly.” 

“I think he’d ask Henry or Jonesy for help only…” 

“He’s embarrassed.” Richie finished for him, sipping the new drink. “So was I.” 

The couple paused their conversation and resumed eating their meals for a few minutes. “They’re cutting down our tree tomorrow.” 

Eddie nodded, poking at his lettuce and remembering when Joey was small. “I hate that. Wish we could do something.” 

         ______________________________________________________

Tuesday

“What’s he doing?” 

“He’s getting himself ready.” 

Beaver tore his eyes from one dad and went to the other. Eddie seemed entirely used to such action and he supposed that’s what love did to a person. It got them familiarized with their husband dancing around the kitchen and singing into a spatula while eggs burned on the stove. 

‘Hey, let's go all over the world

Rock and roll girls

Rock and roll girls…’

Eddie burst through the door they’d been peeping through and made his way to said stove, snatching the spatula and picked up on scrambling the eggs like they’d been his responsibility in the first place. Richie ceased his dancing and smiled wide as Beaver finally came into the kitchen. “Hey kiddo, you in the mood for eggs?” 

Silently, Eddie held up the pan Richie had neglected for his solo. 

He pushed up his glasses. “You in the mood for burnt sludge?” 

Chuckling, Beaver took a seat at the table and waited for his friends to arrive. He hoped they remembered their plan for the day. “I’ll pass on the sludge.” Much preferring the taste of a sugary cereal anyway. Still wordlessly, Eddie handed over a box of Sonic-Spooners over to his son, something his own mother would’ve died before letting him have. “What time are you guys leaving?” 

“In about a half-hour.” Eddie answered, giving a sideways glance to his husband. “How you doing champ?” He teased. 

Richie, far from the patron saint of maturity, stuck out his tongue. “Better. Ran through a couple more of the jokes…” He trailed off, looking down at Beaver who was shoveling cereal into his mouth. “Why can’t we take the kid again?”

Beaver dropped his spoon and looked up with pleading eyes. ‘Please. Anything to get me outta the test is good’  

A roll of the eyes, a classic in the Tozier-Kaspbrak household. “Because the kid,” Eddie ruffled Beav’s hair lovingly, “needs to go to school.” 

‘Back to the backup plan.’ Beav deflated. 

         ______________________________________________________

Henry stood with his hands on his hips, backpack at his feet with that suspicious smirk on his face as if to say ‘Okay, you got me here. What’s next?’ Pete was resting on the lawn with his head on Henry’s backpack, arms crossed over his chest and looking peaceful. “Roberta’s gonna be pissed when she finds out you convinced Duds to miss school.” 

“I know that Mr. Obvious.” Beaver waved his hand dismissvely, though he had to admit he was a little worried about that. He wasn’t sure he could handle disapproval from Mrs. Cavell. 

“It was my choice.” Douglas piped up from Beaver’s porch steps. Jonesy sat next to him, looking more eager than ever. If Beav had been right about one thing, it was his friends sense of righteousness overshadowing his memory of their test. “I want to help save our tree.” 

Beaver smiled. This may be a side plot to escape the inevitable failure but it was also a mission he fully believed in. Beaver’s plans were never half-assed. “And that’s just what we’re going to do, Duds.” 

         ______________________________________________________

Sadie Carter and Missy Tramel had been best friends since Kindergarten. Everywhere one went, the other was sure to follow. This morning was no exception. Together they walked to school with the topic of conversation being Sadie’s date for Friday; Gary Jones. 

“I can’t believe you’re going to see those disgusting movies.” Missy wrinkled her nose, clutching her books to her chest and watching their feet sync up on the sidewalk. 

“You’re just jealous that you’re not going.” Sadie giggled. “What gives anyway? Beaver’s cute, why’d you say no?” She liked that kid, he told jokes in science that had her cracking up. 

“Joey’s alright, I mean. He’s funny and all that.” She shrugged, refusing to call him by that dumb nickname. “But I don’t wanna date him or anything—” their heels clacked on the pavement as she sighed. “He’s just…he’s um…he’s…oh jesus, he’s in a tree!” She rolled her eyes and pointed. 

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G who?” Sadie laughed and obeyed when Missy took her head and pushed it in the right direction. 

She was right. Beaver was hanging upside down in his front lawn’s tree. Not alone either. His regular group of buddies, Gary Jones included, were all hanging onto branches and sitting up there like it was normal. Their backpacks scattered around the trunk. “What are you boys doing?”

“Hey girls.” Pete Moore called down with a shy smile on his face. Sadie ignored this and continued her pestering, approaching and letting her own backpack fall off her shoulder next to theirs. 

“Jonesy?” She shouted. “What gives?” 

“We’re saving our tree from being cut down!” He shouted back, exuberant with pride. Sadie raised a brow. “They should be getting here any minute and when they do, they’ll find us.” 

“Will the tree be saved by tonight?” 

“Could take all day and night, we don’t know yet.” Beaver called down as he climbed back upside. He ignored the look of annoyance Jonesy shot him, that pinched feeling returning to his stomach. 

“That blows.” Sadie said flatly, picking up her bag and moving back toward the sidewalk. 

“I’m sure we’ll be done by seven, Sadie.” Jonesy quickly shouted down. He turned back to Beaver. “We just have to stay until their workday is over, Beav. That buys us another day to plan.” 

‘Plan, shman’ Beaver thought angrily. Suddenly the tree felt intensely important. Forget missing the test, the tree was important thing. “We don’t know their hours, Jonesy. You should be prepared to stay here a long time.” Fuck, his stomach hurt. 

“They work till eight.” Henry piped in. 

“See!” Beaver frowned. 

“I can’t miss my date, Beav.” Jonesy mirrored his frown. 

“I didn’t know we’d be up here that long.” Douglas added, only making Beaver’s stomach burn more. 

“You guys, this is important.” Beaver felt pathetic. He had no idea why this was suddenly the most important thing in the world but it was. Screw Jonesy’s date. 

“Well, let me know what you work out with your keeper.” Sadie said snottily and started stomping off, Missy following right behind her. 

Jonesy looked ready to shout in frustration. Instead, he hurled himself down from his branch and shot Beaver an angry look. “Save the tree without me.” 

The pain in Beaver’s stomach was completely unbearable as he watched his friend take off after some random girl. “Bitch in a buzzsaw.” He mumbled. Henry sighed, shifting branches so that he could be closer to him. 

“I think we should trash the plan, Beav.” 

“You can.” He looked up, losing some of his fire. “I’m gonna stay.”

“Come on, Beav–” 

“No.” 

Henry held up his hands in defeat. “Come on, Duds. We still got time to get to school.” 

Douglas shifted but didn’t move to get down. 

“It’s ok, Duddy.” Beaver urged him, this was his problem after all…whatever the hell it was. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay with him.” Pete rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged when Henry looked back at him. “I already planned to miss today, I don’t mind.” 

“If you’re sure.” Henry paused, just waiting to see if he’d change his mind. 

         ______________________________________________________

Pete Moore took a calculated risk. 

“You know…it’s okay if you like Jonesy.” 

Beaver looked up from his swinging legs and crossed his arms. “What do you mean? Of course I like Jonesy. I’m just mad.” 

“No, I mean. Like-like.” How pathetically juvenile, Pete thought to himself. 

This time Beaver paused, eerily silent for what felt like an hour but was really just three minutes. “I don’t….I–” 

“Before you say anything–” Pete held up his hands. “I’m not accusing you. I’m just saying it’d be ok.” He wondered if he was going about this all wrong. What an idiot he was. 

Beaver narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying, dude?” 

He shrugged. “Listen Beav, over the past few months I discovered something about myself.” Really, telling his friend this should’ve been nervewrecking but as Pete sat up in the tree with the sun on his back, he felt strangely calm. “I’m bisexual–And I’m telling you this because you’re one of my best friends and I know you’ll be ok with it, right?” 

“Of course.” Beaver nodded. “...Jesus Christ Bananas, Do you think I’m bi?” 

Pete smiled because how could you not with the Beav around. “Only you can tell me.” 

Beaver opened his mouth, that pinched feeling in his gut loosening …

“Boys! What are you doing up there?” 

“Crap.” 

         ______________________________________________________

“Rich, your husband—” 

Richie blinked, the joke he was in the middle of rehearsing fell from his lips and he turned just in time to see Eddie rushing onto the stage with his cellphone at his ear. For a moment, his stomach dropped. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. A rush of the horror attacked him. Something happened at home, worse yet…IT’s come back…

“Richie, I gotta go home. I’ll be back in time for the show.” 

“What why?” 

“Our kid’s in a tree.” Eddie sighed like that explained everything and turned his attention back to the phone. 

“Like…stuck? Like a cat?” Richie was confused as all hell. 

         ______________________________________________________

Wednesday Morning 

Beaver was grounded for cutting school and missing his test and he had to agree, it was fair. Was he happy about it? No. But he accepted the punishment alright. 

But approaching one o’clock in the morning, a gentle knock came at Richie and Eddie’s bedroom door. Richie snored right through it but his husband got up and shuffled over. “Joey?” He rubbed his eye as his son stepped into the room, clad in his pajama pants. “What are you doing up?” 

“Can I talk to you guys about something?”

Eddie moved to and turn on the light before leaning over his husband and shaking him gently. Richie woke easy enough and put on his glasses in a blur of confusion. “Of course you can talk to us.” 

“Yeah kiddo.” Richie coughed into an awake state and sat up. 

Beaver sat on the edge of the bed, stared at them behind his large glasses and spoke with some hesitation. “How did you know that you liked each other?” 

[esoterium]

henry thinking of himself? never. that's why he's here. of course he'd think about his cats. beaver would think about his cats. if he had any. any kinda pet would take top priority in his life. sure. henry would do the same. problem is? that's where henry stops. (we're not going to talk about how that's where it'd stop for beav, too..that's besides the point and he's never said he isn't a hypocrite--whatever!) cause thinking about himself? that's not something he does. henry's full of thinking of other people and animals and fuck all about henry. so? that's where beav steps when when a fucking snowpocalypse is breathing down derry's fucking neck.

yeah there's some truth that he didn't want to spend it alone. being snowed into a bar. or the place he sorta calls home? not something his brain was going to be able to take for any extended period of time. not without something to distract himself from, well, himself. and yeah. he coulda gone to pete's or jonesy's. that's not where he WANTED to be. this is where he wanted to be..

and this is the reason why...

even if he's lied to himself for years. decades. through fucked up relationships that ended evenmoreso. messes that got messier and messier and no matter how hard he or she hung on? never ended up panning out. it's like you're somewhere else. how many time's he heard that? there's not enough fingers on both hands. that somewhere else? was inside the mouth that his tongue's dipping out to take a taste of. inside the mouth that a small noise ends up slipping over the tongue of because he can't hold it in anymore.

beaver stays in that kiss. in that moment where he's falling against henry and letting the other hold him up cause his knees are so fucking weak that there's no way he can support himself. even if his figures so damn near close to scarecrow that it's kinda ironic that he made it through the fall and into winter without the birds picking him apart. jesus. he doesn't even think about it when he lets his arms come up all the way and wrap around broader shoulders to where he can feel the warm air against his abdomen where his shirt's rumpled up just enough that a sliver of it's bare. his skin's too warm to notice.

then henry's giving them room to breathe and beav's barely able to take the distance. thick lashes hover low over his eyes as he chases after those lips that they crack open far enough to stare at upon their retreat. another peck is given to the corner as the other speaks.

he can still taste henry's drink on his lips and the inside of his mouth. hell he can still taste HENRY there as he nods his head and mumbles, "jesus christ bananas. yeah. okay. i'll STAY." cause fuck if he can think of going anywhere before this happened and now? now wild horses, as the saying goes. finally, his eyes open--stunned stupid and staring into henry's with a pleading look that's practically begging him to do it again. tongue catches the flavor one more time by sweeping over his bottom lip before disappearing inside so he can whisper, hell, croak out.. "should probably give that another go.. you know? just for the fucking hell of it.. what do ya say?"

Patients had been telling him all about how terrible this storm was supposed to be all day; after the sixth time he'd been given the ' batten down the hatches! ' speech, he'd come dangerously close to laughing Mr. Johnson right out of his office before their session could actually begin. — On the way home, the local radio station had forgone playing music altogether in favor of keeping everyone that might still be out and about informed.. and Henry honestly couldn't recall ever having been so violent towards his radio as he had been when he'd finally turned the damned thing off.

Unfortunately, he hadn't actually given firewood any thought, if only because he knew he had some at home.. at least a few days' worth. He hadn't really given any storm preparations any thought, at least.. not until he'd walked through the door and all of his cats came running up to him at once. ❛ Ah, hell. ❜ Well, the cats would definitely be alright; he'd move Heaven and Earth to make sure they would be warm enough and properly fed. As for himself, well.. whatever.

Beaver showing up at his door had been completely unexpected, and wildly concerning.. but not at all unwelcome. In fact, Beaver's sudden appearance lifted his mood and gave him something else - besides the cats, another bottle of wine, and the ceiling - to focus on. Beaver showing up was the prompting he needed to get to work, to start rummaging through kitchen drawers for candles, matches, and the ONE bottle of liquor he kept around the house. — It also filled him with guilt; Beaver shouldn't be out in this mess. But, for what it was worth, at least Beaver was safer there with him than he would've been if he'd been out at one of the bars he still haunted..

The tips of his teeth had sank deeply into his lower lip as he'd lingered in the kitchen, just watching Beaver stand there in front of the den's main window. ❛ At least he's here with me. ❜ Of all the places Beaver could have gone - including Pete's, or Jonesy's place - he'd come HERE.

He hadn't meant to get so close. He hadn't meant to startle Beaver, either. His only intention had been to make sure Beaver knew he could stay.. in fact, he'd already decided he wasn't going to take ' no ' for an answer - it wasn't even an option in his mind. But when Beaver had turned around, his train of thought had been derailed. His plans fell by the wayside, and something else took their place. Something he'd thought about.. and had been both ashamed and terrified of for YEARS.

Who had made the first move? Henry couldn't remember either, but maybe that was for the best. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to ruin it for either one of them, as was his unfortunate tendency. — The taste of chocolate and liquor was still heavy on Beaver's tongue. And his lips? They were softer than Henry would ever have imagined they'd be.. and he'd imagined it more times than he'd any desire to admit. It felt.. RIGHT, and getting lost in Beaver's mouth and the feeling of having him so close was remarkably easy. It was easier than it should've been, and the fact that didn't frighten him was.. wild.

His hands found their way to Beaver's face, their palms carefully cradling his stubbled cheeks as he tore his lips away at last. His lungs were burning, his heart was pounding, and his head was spinning. ❝ — I... Stay with me. ❞

[thotteus-beaumont]

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues/interests you and I’ll pose a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

tagged by @binarystarkillers <3

(I have such stupid names for my WIP’s sooooo....)

This is what it looks like when I try

Crossover Event 

Couples Play Truth or Drink - Richie Tozier & Eddie Kaspbrak

The Burger Kings™  

Just leave it up to you

She’ll Be There

Divorce Support Group 

‘Two Of Us/Here Today’ - Reddie thing

Daylight savings?

Gee the Traffic is Terrific! 

A luxury you can afford - Crossover 2 thing?

[frodispatch]

So I just officially finished Dreamcatcher and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not gay until the minds touch.

Ignore how beat up it is, i got this copy from my local haunted used bookstore, but here it is being once again relinquished to my Stephen King shelf.

This book has fucked with me many times. It has caused me immense pain. I am way too attached to the characters. I miss Beaver. I have started chewing on toothpicks instead of picking my skin. I am thinking of changing my name to Jonesy. Help. But also don’t help, I am fine. It’s over. The aliens have been defeated.

Goodnight shit-weasels. SSDD.

[littledozerdraws]

Dreamcatcher baby boys!! ☝️✨🌲👽

[greysanguinity]

a few more snapshots of jonesy's memory warehouse under the cut (for the ispy lovers)

the contents jonesy's memory warehouse are so telling and i love it. it reminds me of an old i spy book.

[m-o-o-n-thatspellsblog]

Fun Facts About the Characters of Dreamcatcher (from the book)

Pete 

Used to cup his hands over his face and pretend to smoke while waiting for his friends to get out of school

Pete’s greatest ambition was to become an astronaut and his childhood bedroom was decorated with pictures of spaceships and UFOs

Pete has a NASA crewneck sweatshirt that he is really proud of

Jonesy

Obsessed with horror movies and mystery novels

Loves dad jokes

He is an associate professor of history and when he is out of office for lunch, he puts a sign on his door that says “BACK AT ONE-- UNTIL THEN I’M HISTORY”

Beaver

Beaver is 5′6

Wore his brother’s old ‘Fonzie’ jacket all of the time as a child (his dad had to tie orange bandannas up and down the sleeves because Beaver insisted on wearing it even when hunting)

As a child, he had a crush on Roberta Cavell (Douglas’s mom)

Henry

Wears old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses

When he puts on his glasses, he thinks of it as ‘putting his eyes back on’

Gave Douglas bunny slippers for his birthday

Douglas

Has curly blond hair like Art Garfunkel

Really good at mini-golf (can consistently beat everyone else except for Pete)

Pretended like he didn't know how to play cribbage solely because it made his friends laugh

[cannithebear]

My two alien killing boyfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.