#clockturned

charlie was over at dennis' yet again, just sharing some beers and watching a movie. well, they weren't paying much attention to the movie. talking, they were actually talking. it was nice when dennis got like this, talkative. actually having a conversation instead of just talking at someone. charlie enjoyed it a lot, which is obvious by how he's been staring at dennis, how close he's sitting next to him on the couch.

there's a small pause in the conversation, not for very long, but dennis is staring at him in a way that charlie can't really place. but it makes him feel fuzzy almost, like his stomach feels a bit upset but not in a bad way. it's confusing, like dennis is, but endearing all the same. and then dennis says that, and charlie's mouth opens a little bit in surprise.

"you ... wait ... what ??" he asks, brows furrowing together as he stares at him, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. was he being serious right now ?? this was some sort of a bit, it had to be. a joke, a joke that charlie would surely be the punch line of. right ?? they are sitting pretty close, hell dennis' knee is touching his. but the other was always touchy, especially with charlie. that couldn't mean ...

they were storming out, or at least that's what they were intending to do. that was until mac had reached his hand over to gently wrap around their wrist, stopping dennis in their tracks. he turns on his heels, whipping around to face the other, jaw clenched and lips twitching as his eyes narrow. "i'm done listening to this, mac." he states firmly, but he doesn't pull his wrist free from mac's grasp.

mac had been talking about johnny again, and dennis was unable to ignore the shame that began to bubble up inside of him. quickly the shame morphed into anger ... it was easier to process it that way. instead of focusing on what they did wrong, they would focus on how ridiculous it was that mac was still talking about johnny like it was someone else. they would focus on mac's weaknesses rather than focusing on their own.

From the second the last bit of dirt had been shoveled back into place, she'd had the sense that something about the ritual was off. not so off that it hadn't been sufficient, but off nonetheless. it didn't take terribly long for her to suss out what was wrong --- the woman standing before her didn't match the picture used in the ritual offering. seriously?

red: my name is actually jonathon michael pollard

" BEER ME! "

IT'S THE ONLY THING ON HIS MIND WHEN HE MARCHES on up from the basement. Sure, he's in one piece physically, but mentally? He can only look at the rat smasher for so long before he starts to feel a little nauseous - who even does that?! Who would craft such a grim contraption? What kind of cute rat bar even is this?

Questions comfortably stowed, as he too stows himself upon a particularly tattered bar stool, flatly slapping his palm against the worn wood for a shred of cursory attention. Alas, the bar's usual host of demons are nowhere to be found. A blessing in disguise, maybe? Ash hums to himself, the giant rat companion on his shoulder once again descending to the bar top to forage for plentiful crumbs.

" Hellooooo? "

... and nothing.

They aren't coming, are they?

Ash huffs, impetuous eye-rolling. He's up from the stool and he's up from the floor, vaulting the bar like a stadium turnstile. Not even he could be prepared for how insidiously untidy it is behind the bar, but he can't afford to hang around cursing about it when time is so short. After all, that one crotchety blonde barkeep could be back any minute now.

send ❤️ + a url and i’ll write something nice about them !! / @ruinedmyself / accepting !!

now this question catches them by surprise. a brow raises in dee's direction, head tilting to the side and waiting for her to continue on. there has to be something else, right ?? some joke or jab about how feminine it would be, how silly it would be. but it never comes, instead she looks genuine. they had never really talked to dee about well, everything. gender and sexuality ... those types of conversations were far too vulnerable for the twins to share after all. too real, too genuine. but dee was their sister, their twin. she grew up with them after all, she knew them.