jester

Andrew showed up out of nowhere, he said he was from California. When she asked why he moved all the way to Pittsburgh, he said he needed some distance from home. He brought with him a young girl, maybe 7 years old. his niece, who he had custody over.

He wasn't very talkative, he lived with her and Teddy and helped them run the farm. They originally hired him when she was pregnant and couldn't do as much, it was supposed to be temporary. After Teddy died she asked him to stay longer, indefinitely, untill she could find someone else to help.

Dennis offered after she talked about how awkward it felt to ask him to stay. And she accepted. She instantly noticed how well they worked together, but more importantly how well they got along.

They be sitting together talking for hours if she let them, and she let them. She was hoping one of them would make a move the first time they met but they didn't. So she kept Andrew on the farm and invited Dennis way more often.

They grew much closer but didn't actually get into a relationship. Dennis kept on insisting it was platonic, Andrew's just a friend. One that he goes out of his way to see even when exhausted, one he compliments ridiculously too Much on his "gorgeous biceps" and "sweet smile" and asks to help him work out .

They don’t know when they first noticed him; the lines between thinking it’s animals, then wishing it’s animals, then knowing it wasn’t have run over the years. 

Their routine usually goes as follows; Jack, up the earliest before dawn starts coloring the sky. He carries his lantern and a satchel of salt and dutifully pours it in a circle surrounding their cabin and the tiny farm behind it. And- dutifully, every morning- it walks alongside him on the other side. 

Human if you didn’t look hard enough. Blue eyes a touch too big and sandy curls the color of a dried mud bank. Skin as pale as a corpse’s, fingers too thin to be hand-waved as dainty. Always barefoot, always dressed in a dirty beige shirt and blue jeans. When he talked it was like there was mud in his throat, the words coming out garbled and wet. 

“Do you like being a doctor? How did you lose your leg? You look very strong, a very capable alpha, is Robby your mate? Do you have an omega? Well what kind of home doesn't have one?”

They both politely ignore the salt line that sits between them both. Jack stays silent as Dennis babbles, broken up by soft, warbly cooes and cackles that make Jack think of the crows that circle the house. Sometimes he doesn’t talk in anything but borrowed words, garbled and throaty, sometimes a woman’s panicked call for her husband and sometimes a boy explaining how to get through the passage near their house. Sometimes a man, sleazy and growly asking why a pretty little thing was out here at night. 

He doesn’t talk to Pope, but Jack thinks it’s because Pope takes his axe with him when he goes out to chop wood. It suits them- Dennis stares, wide blue eyes taking in every detail while Pope stares right back as he dutifully splits the logs. 

Robby’s last to wake, as the sky starts to lighten, when the smells of cooking meat and coffee waft out the open window. Robby always throws the bones out into the woods, and Dennis always comes to retrieve them like they’re something precious. On quiet mornings, Robby could hear the scrape of teeth on bone, and the cracks of an animal breaking them open. 

Once the morning light broke through the canopy, Dennis would retreat into whatever den he’s made for himself by their home. Only then is it safe for the Rural doctors to make their house calls. 

Their hours are very strict- do not come before the sun is up. Do not leave after the sun went down. 

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Pestering Jack, who indulges him. Staring at Pope, who indulges that.

Being totally biased and in love with Robby the most of all, who indulges absolutely nothing (0) from him.

Simultaneously, the Pitt is unwatchable because of how it centers woke critical race theory and feminist epistemology, and unwatchable because it is one white man's* racist misogynist egocentric drivel

Like these are the two kinds of hate-opinions shared about the Pitt:

and

"off his look" - so that fond bemused smile was all noah - noted!

and you cannot beat:

Sticker on a avocado? Save it

Receipt from the thrift store they went to together? Stick it in the book.

A note she left that they were out of milk? Make a page spread.

When he started dating Robby, he started a new book and had them going at the same time, they went between apartments with him, it was a part of his evening ritual.

The movie ticket from their date? Save it

A napkin from their takeout place? In the book.

The condom wrapper? Stick... well that's a little weird... but its in the book.

Trinity and Robby don't ask about the books, they know its weird and that he is saving everything but Dennis gets red and embarrassed. When Trinity made a joke once about the book he quickly offered to throw it away. So they didnt ask anymore.

In fact no one asked why when Dennis was going home with Robby, Santos passed him her sandwich wrapper and sticker from her apple after her lunch break from the grocery shop she did with Dennis to her boss, who then pocketed it.

They don’t know when they first noticed him; the lines between thinking it’s animals, then wishing it’s animals, then knowing it wasn’t have run over the years. 

Their routine usually goes as follows; Jack, up the earliest before dawn starts coloring the sky. He carries his lantern and a satchel of salt and dutifully pours it in a circle surrounding their cabin and the tiny farm behind it. And- dutifully, every morning- it walks alongside him on the other side. 

Human if you didn’t look hard enough. Blue eyes a touch too big and sandy curls the color of a dried mud bank. Skin as pale as a corpse’s, fingers too thin to be hand-waved as dainty. Always barefoot, always dressed in a dirty beige shirt and blue jeans. When he talked it was like there was mud in his throat, the words coming out garbled and wet. 

“Do you like being a doctor? How did you lose your leg? You look very strong, a very capable alpha, is Robby your mate? Do you have an omega? Well what kind of home doesn't have one?”

They both politely ignore the salt line that sits between them both. Jack stays silent as Dennis babbles, broken up by soft, warbly cooes and cackles that make Jack think of the crows that circle the house. Sometimes he doesn’t talk in anything but borrowed words, garbled and throaty, sometimes a woman’s panicked call for her husband and sometimes a boy explaining how to get through the passage near their house. Sometimes a man, sleazy and growly asking why a pretty little thing was out here at night. 

He doesn’t talk to Pope, but Jack thinks it’s because Pope takes his axe with him when he goes out to chop wood. It suits them- Dennis stares, wide blue eyes taking in every detail while Pope stares right back as he dutifully splits the logs. 

Robby’s last to wake, as the sky starts to lighten, when the smells of cooking meat and coffee waft out the open window. Robby always throws the bones out into the woods, and Dennis always comes to retrieve them like they’re something precious. On quiet mornings, Robby could hear the scrape of teeth on bone, and the cracks of an animal breaking them open. 

Once the morning light broke through the canopy, Dennis would retreat into whatever den he’s made for himself by their home. Only then is it safe for the Rural doctors to make their house calls. 

Their hours are very strict- do not come before the sun is up. Do not leave after the sun went down. 

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.

.

.

.