we do not follow maps to buried treasures, and x never, ever marks the spot. – ( by maddie & meaghan. )
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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YOU ARE THE REASON

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@dennace
we do not follow maps to buried treasures, and x never, ever marks the spot. – ( by maddie & meaghan. )
malwares.
halfway done. big ass brownie. made with a drug dealer’s care. he’s even taken the courtesy to put little miniature chocolate chips in it, as if that would take away the foul taste of weed. it’s never her favorite thing to eat these, but the high is good. it’s somehow heavier than smoking is, smoother on the brain and body too. she doesn’t know much about that, but she gets why some people are strictly edibles only. it’s expensive but easy. simone stifles a gag, wishes she brought a bottled water or something.
she chews real slow, real cautious, making sure she doesn’t try and swallow too fast so she doesn’t waste a $15 brownie via vomiting. “oh, edibles? nah, not really. i mean, sometimes i’ll take two, but that’s only if i really wanna get zooted.”
‘ to a session, ’ he clarifies. dennis doesn’t know if she missed him or he missed her—only that their minds didn’t quite meet and they’re back to talking about weed. he realizes as he nudges the conversation in its intended direction that he’d had an opportunity, there, to pretend he wasn’t itching to talk about feelings. flatly, clearly: ‘ have you ever gone sober to a session? ’
he rolls a half-baked chocolate chip between his fingers and watches it melt a dark sticky line up to the farthest knuckle, then sucks it clean as he reaches with his spit-less hand to break off another piece of brownie.
‘ or is half-‘zooted’ your preferred, uh. ’ his mouth is thick with chocolate. ‘ condition. for this shit. ’
“Dude, your back looks great, man. You’re putting the work in, and it’s showing, man.” “Thank you so much, man. I really appreciate that.”
solichor.
she wonders if she should tell him how lucky he is that there’d been a delay on her changeover for the next train. (ridiculously. he is ridiculously lucky.) the buzz in her pocket comes as a welcome surprise. as for the contents – she can’t decide. she tugs her suitcase closer to her shin before she zips out a reply.
[ sms. dennis ] dude you are so dumb. [ sms. dennis ] (thank you i will be there toot sweet)
toot sweet it is. she sidles up, kicks one of his tires when he doesn’t immediately notice her, and gestures with a thumb for him to open up the boot.
forgoing an offer to help her load her things into the car, dennis pops the trunk and resumes staring into the cassette deck like it holds all the answers; it’s just a matter of waiting. i would move heaven and earth, it sings to him, turned too loud by him and too metallic by time. he frowns. to be together forever with you.
there is a gross similarity between his present behavior and his states of crisis in high school—usually coming after having been broken up with by maureen. back then he had dee, at least, to cover his assignments. he switches the music off.
‘ why philly? ’ he asks when summer’s half-climbed in. ‘ of all places. why come back here? i can’t think of anything—anything that would possess you. ’
i realize it immediately changes tracks but dennis rubbing charlie’s back and saying (gently!) “good job!” after he performs his song is (chef kiss but crying)
@solichor, continued.
dennis’ voice sounds tinny on the other end of the line, as if he’s ducked beneath a bridge just to spite her. ‘ what, ’ summer laughs, although not unkindly. ‘ – are you offering? ’ she doesn’t wait to hear his answer. she’s got a pretty good idea of what he’ll say. (or maybe she doesn’t! maybe he’d surprise her.) ‘ it’s fine, honey. i can just get a taxi. ’
‘ good, ’ he says, withdrawn like summer’s already off the line. ‘ good, i needed something to do. ’
dennis hangs up before she can question his meaning—or motive, bearing how few selfless acts make his daily docket—grabs himself a mixtape and a drink for the road, and makes his way out of town. by the time the range rover is hugging the right curb, dennis’ cassette has hit its rick astley pocket; he lets it blare as he pulls out his phone.
summer » here summer » don’t ask if I sped you know the goddamn answer
god’s favorite customer sentence starters.
hangout at the gallows.
jesus, man, what did you do?
left foot, right foot, that’s the ticket.
you’ll be back on top real soon.
whose bright idea was it to sharpen the knives?
if you want an answer, it’s anybody’s guess.
so you wanna hangout at the gallows?
those guys get an early start.
what’s your intake? your reason for living?
mr tillman.
___, good to see you again.
you left your passport in the mini fridge.
don’t leave your mattress in the rain if you sleep on the balcony.
what a beautiful tattoo that young man had on his face.
will you need a driver out to philly?
he seemed a little worried about you.
i’m feeling good, damn, i’m feeling so fine.
i’m living on a cloud above an island in my mind.
don’t be alarmed, this is just my vibe.
no, it’s not too bad a crime.
is there someone we can call?
perhaps you shouldn’t drink alone.
just dumb enough to try.
i know a few ten-cent words.
you can take what i know about love and drown it in the sink.
i know my way around a tune.
won’t be a single dry eye in the room.
but i’m just dumb enough to try to keep you in my life.
i’ve been here a few times before.
you could have me anytime.
everything’s cool, i’m great, i’m fine.
date night.
nothing surprises me much.
do you wanna go to the farm?
do you wanna go to the park?
i’ll get you ice cream if you give me your card.
nothing impresses me much.
i’ve got a great attitude and a map to the stars.
i got your number from that sign in the lawn.
i also wanna vanquish evil but my mojo is gone.
i bet you know most of my friends.
they’re some real exclusive dudes.
i can escort you down the runway, i just joined the police.
so you wanna be a grifter like me?
i’m the second coming.
i’m the last to know.
i didn’t get invited but i know where to go.
Keep reading
@solichor asked: flicks him in the ear.
as though she’s flipped a switch that throws dennis into slow motion, his hand makes a sloooow climb up to his face, sweeps heel-first across his cheek en route, and finally curls defensively around summer’s target ear.
it’s a new haircut. it’s a botched haircut. he’s feeling sensitive about them (the ears), now on prominent display.
‘ are you trying to make a... is there something wrong with...? what exactly did you mean by—by that? ’
dennis reynolds + Drama™
gross
dennis calming mac and charlie down
malwares.
@dennace asked: “ hey, chatty cathy, do you know what over and out means ? ”
6 underground | accepting
simone hangs up and pockets the phone. bobs her head to the music. tries to look natural. it’s all apart of an elaborate plan, one that’s supposed to land a chick in her bed tonight. then she feels her heart start pumping – going extremely fast, practically shaking her whole chest – and she feels like going outside the bar and running away.
dennis watches her from the back. he’s got everything riding on this hookup. he’s talking to their target now, trying to aim her at simone. sure, she’s cute. (but what if simone fucks it up? reveals she’s just some loner with a messed up past and weird hobby? god, why would anyone want to date her? she sells bongs to people for crying out loud!)
“i can’t do it.” she says it to herself, then looks at dennis. mayday. she shakes her head violently, interrupting a conversation between him and her once-maybe-next-girlfriend. then she mouths it again: i can’t. i’m not doing it.
guided, as always, by self-interest, dennis can’t help feeling a little disappointed when simone cuts the operation short. what comes unexpected is the reason: without the pressure to land the girl first or better or at all, he’s nearly able to make himself charming. he’s been having a good time, no unpleasant playacting required.
he waits for the bartender to top him off, makes an excuse to leave, and weaves an elaborate path back to simone so that their mark doesn’t watch where he’s going.
‘ what— ’ a patron bumps into him and dennis flicks his balled-up straw wrapper into their drink as they walk away. ‘ —is the problem? can’t you see that she’s cute? ’
hey, if i ever accidentally break your rules, it was just that: an accident. i read EVERYONE’S rules before i follow them, but i also follow a lot of people! it can get hard to keep everything straight. i never mind a quick message saying “hey, this is a rule of mine and you broke it, ok?” in fact, i’d rather someone point out my mistakes so we can continue writing together!
𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆. ( repost , don’t reblog. )
NAME : dennis reynolds. ALIAS : the looks, the legend, the hammer of thor, mr. excellence, golden god, hugh honey, the daiquiri man, brian lefevre, dane brass, + more. but also none of these. he’s just dennis. AGE : 43 years old. SPECIES : human. FAMILY : deandra “dee” reynolds (older twin sister), frank reynolds (step/adoptive father), barbara reynolds (mother; deceased), bruce mathis (biological father), gail the snail (cousin on his mother’s side), maureen ponderosa (ex-wife; deceased). without canon divergence: brian jr (son). SIGNIFICANT OTHER : i promise i’m not saying this as a person who vies for a mac/dennis romance — the show has never really been about that for me, though it admittedly sweetens the deal now that i’m paying attention — but mac mcdonald just about counts. it’s dennis’ longest-lasting, most romantically-coded (which is on purpose, according to the cast/creators) relationship of the series. they don’t pull that cheap sitcom bullshit, either, where two close men have some ‘tension’ that’s ultimately played for laughs; there is ongoing, serious development between the pair (however unhealthy, however doomed to fail). mac is now an out gay man and in more recent seasons has said flat-out that he loves and wants dennis to love him. so. mac. (kind of.) (he’s still single. just extremely codependent and maybe angled to wind up with mac eventually.)
𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻.
RELIGIOUS BELIEF : very, very nearly an atheist. we’re going ‘agnostic’ only because mac has a history of getting into his head about religion to some extent. SINS : greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES : chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE : he wanted to be a veterinarian for many years, but that’s as good as quashed. he doesn’t even necessarily want to... survive, at this point, so i can’t say ‘achieving happiness.’ he’s miserable and lonely and gradually resigning himself to it. KNOWN LANGUAGES : english. SECRETS : he is trying very hard to keep from himself that he’s gay, so it’s less a secret than a persistent pattern of denial. he dyes the gray out of his hair — but again, everyone notices. he loves musical theater. he’s afraid of heights. he’s being medicated for one of his diagnosed mental illnesses. SAVVIES : tending bar/mixing drinks. great at applying makeup.
𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻.
BUILD : scrawny / bony / slender (tries to remain underweight; isn’t always successful, but often) / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average HEIGHT : 5′10″. SCARS / MARKS : minor hyperpigmentation on his right cheek, upper left thigh, lower right shoulder blade. he keeps the spots on his face covered with foundation. ABILITIES / POWERS : n/a. RESTRICTIONS : despite frequently priding himself on his ‘physical perfection,’ dennis is in exceptionally poor shape. he’s liable to passing out quickly from overexertion; also breaks a heavy sweat faster than any other member of the gang. anemia, low blood pressure, refeeding syndrome beyond 40.
𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚂.
FOOD : he’d list something fancy when in reality, he really... really enjoys (and misses) the simple foods. he’s big on seafood, definitely enjoys a good pizza, chimichangas, burgers. snacks like popcorn and potato chips. DRINK : alcoholic. (and tea, coffee.) PIZZA TOPPING : pepperoni or mushrooms. COLOUR : blue. MUSIC GENRE : glam rock and yacht rock, baby. BOOK GENRE : nonfiction until he gets bored (it’s swift). trashy romance when no one’s looking. MOVIE GENRE : action, buddy films. SEASON : winter, maybe? CURSE WORD : i’d say he uses ‘shit’ and ‘god/damn’ most often? ‘bitch’ is up there. c*nt. SCENT(S) : the bar. it doesn’t smell... strictly good, but it brings him comfort. likes the smell of coffee, too.
𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙼.
BOTTOM OR TOP : bottom. SINGS IN THE SHOWER : yes. lot of rick astley. LIKES BAD PUNS : nah. his own repetitive shitty jokes aside, he’s pretty picky about comedy.
TAGGED BY: stole it from the lovely @malwares TAGGING: god i’m so lazy, man, i can’t do this. @andwillful / @bugdown.
phlegmagics.
❛ dude ! did you go through my dream journal ? ❜
‘ well—yeah, buddy, some of it. for—for your birthday. you know? we wanted it. ’ insincerity is the thing that would catch in anyone else’s throat. it’s harder for dennis to say it when dennis means it. ‘ wanted it to be special. ’
malwares.
@dennace asked: “ i’m a grown man, i can handle my shit. ”
6 underground | accepting
she slides the edible into view. it’s a thick, crumbly brownie practically oozing with the illicit smell of weed. it’s some potent shit stuffed into a small little dessert. “alright, well.” simone pops a piece of hers into her mouth, grimaces at the taste as she chews. “keep up, then. i want this shit in my system asap.”
carbs-wise, this is gonna set him back—tolerance-wise, he’s more than a little bit screwed and almost knows it, thus the hesitation—but he can’t afford to come in as hot as he did for their last therapy session. he can afford, however, to strengthen a bond that isn’t shared with one of his live-in ne’er-do-wells, and if that means substance-eating over substance-drinking, so be it.
‘ kinda tastes like shit. ’ he’d have a difficult time selling that lie even if he had eaten in the last two days. he misses sweets, however thickly cut with drugs they may or may not be. ‘ have you gone... sober? to any of these? ’
@eatmean.
‘ what am i, a— ’ what animal has good vision? he’s blank. much like the restaurant menu he’s been playing in front of his face like a trombone appears to be. ‘ look, i’m telling you. ’ he raps the laminate with the back of his hand. ‘ no one can decipher this shit. ’