the shot i mean

“What’s this?” Dipper gestured to his nose.

Pacifica glanced up from her French textbook and sighed. “Le nez.

Dipper nodded as he absorbed her response, then jabbed a finger at his elbow. “What about this?”

Le coude,” she replied as she lowered her eyes to her book again.

“Alright…” Dipper thought about the next one, “What about…this?”

At the thud that shook the table, Pacifica looked up to find Dipper with a foot propped up and his hand wrapped around his foot.

Le pied. You know, this is surprisingly not helping be study for my French test,” she remarked as she flipped the page for emphasis.

Dipper shot her a grin and said, “What do you mean? I’m the best studier there is! No one gets grades like mine.”

Pacifica couldn’t argue with his top grades, but his methods were unorthodox. “You recite your notes like it’s some kind of demonic chant for two weeks, stay up way too late the night before the test perfecting your cue cards, then roll out of bed the next morning, drink two Redbull, and say “Let’s do it, nerds” before every single exam.”

There was a pause. “…but I ace them.”

She just sighed and returned to reading her textbook. Dipper was definitely the most successful student she knew, but his study system was the strangest thing she had ever encountered. She would stick to the old fashioned way: repetition and context.

There was blessed silence for a few minutes, and Pacifica had just started to believe that Dipper had given up on trying to help her when he leaned forward and took a deliberate breath.

She braced herself.

“Whah dar deez?”

Against her better judgement, Pacifica raised her gaze to see Dipper had squished his cheeks so his lips stuck out like a fish’s. In moments like this, she remembered exactly how similar her boyfriend was to his twin.

“Cute,” Pacifica drawled.

He lowered his hand and smiled at her. “You think I’m cute?”

His facetiousness only made her laugh. “Somebody has to, I guess, And they’re les levres.

Dipper cocked his head to the side and asked, “Yeah? Well, I think your levres and my levres should parler.

Her snort of laughter was obnoxious enough to wake Waddles where he snoozed in the corner. With a grin, she said, “Oh my god, you’re such a dweeb.”

“A dweeb who now knows the language of love,” he pointed out. “So, you wanna make out or what?”

Pacifica looked at her book and considered the offer. Maybe it was the desperation to procrastinate when her exam was bearing down on her that pushed Pacifica to close her book with a clap and stride around the table. Maybe it was the need for a distraction after hours spent studying that moved Pacifica to throw her leg over Dipper’s lap and settle in with her arms looped around his neck.

It was definitely love for her goof of a boyfriend that made her give him a brief but firm kiss on the mouth.

“Alright, ten minutes. But no marks, got it? I need to look presentable at my exam tomorrow,” she said brusquely.

Dipper’s hands landed on her hips and his breath grazed her neck. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured as he pressed his mouth to the spot beneath her ear.

punkbarbie  asked:

Okay big daddy markiplier is great and all but really..... Tyler is the Dad(dddyy)

Dude, don’t even get me started on Dad!Tyler (Dad Tyler, making sure teamiplier is all taken care of, that everyone’s eating and exercising and sleeping well, makes sure they get their flu shots) 

or Daddy!Tyler (choke me harder….I mean, what?)

Sam:  [Dean’s] dramatic, as you know. What he meant to say was, we missed you. Glad you’re back.

Dean:

Sam: So where does that leave us?

Mary: Same as always. Family.

Dean:

He is just do done with playing nice, and with being fed crap about family that is supposed to just make him shut up and smile. I love that.

4

3.01 // 4.02

Requested by @parapluiepliant

“What about Clarke’s/ALIE’s line about “Too many people”? You could combine it with Clarke’s desperation (the list of people and her outburst) in contrast to ALIE’s indifference (the launching of the nuclear bombs)”

2

That thing I think about a lot but never mention.

Okay oh my god so I tried to write some christmassy crewt headcanons and it turned into this weird bulletpointed headcanons/mini fic hybrid?? Well, anyways here’s some gay shit, Merry Christmas kids.
very minor trigger warning for brief, non-graphic mentions of child abuse.

- Firstly, Queenie KNOWS the two of them are head over heels for each other but she also knows they’re both too awkward to confess their feelings to each other. She enlists the help of Jacob and Tina and all three of them work to try and get the boys together. Their tactics become more and more elaborate because Newt and Credence are both unbelievably oblivious, of course.
- At Christmas this means newt blushing profusely as he gives Credence his very first christmas card.
- Credence briefly panicking because he didn’t know that people were supposed to give folded pieces of paper with over-sentimental text to each other at christmas, i mean, really.
- Newt calming him down with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. He swears he can feel the familiar push of magic on his back, attempting to push him closer to the man before him.
- Newt taking Credence to get a wand as his present. Credence, naturally, is distraught when he learns that a traditional christmas involves gift giving. He is distraught for several reasons. The first being that Newt has just spent a fairly large sum of money on some fancy ass wand (because you know credence’s wand is probably obsidian-core or some extra shit like that, smh). Secondly, credence realises that now he has to get Newt something too.
- Credence consults the rest of the gang in regards to what to give Newt (keep in mind this kid is broke and also has never given anyone a gift ever in his entire life).
- They are absolutely useless.
- After trying and failing to influence Credence into buying a gift with romantic implications, they simply group together to produce a wad of cash for him and send him on his way, much to the boy’s dismay.
- Credence wanders through the wizarding district of New York for what seems like hours with absolutely no luck. Until he comes across a flourish and blotts - esque shop.
- His memory jolts him back to the precious hours spent cramped in his tiny room at his old home, only an old parchment and a stolen pencil to keep him company. He remembers finding welcome escape in his drawings, continuing them for years, hiding them under his sorry excuse for a mattress so that ma wouldn’t find them. But she did, of course. He’d received one of the worst beatings that he could remember that day, barely being able to move by the time it was over. After that the only thing he was allowed to draw was the inky designs on those horrid leaflets that his ma had made him hand out.
- He finds himself drawn to the shop, purchasing a pad of plain, textured paper. And an assortment of pencils and ink pens. He carefully makes sure that he has plenty of money left over to return to Tina, Queenie, and Jacob.
- When he gets back to the apartment makes his way to the suitcase and finds a quiet, open area in between the various habitats where he could sit and sketch.
- He does a variety of sketches of as many of the creatures that he can get to stand still long enough for him to capture their intricate details. Plenty of pages don’t make the cut, but instead of scrapping them he simply tucks them away, unwilling to destroy any documentation of these beautiful animals.
- The pages of art that do make the cut are arranged methodically by habitat, and bound with twine. Credence allows himself a brief reprise from his anxiety with the knowledge that Newt’s present is finished. Only to be hit with the possibility that Newt might not actually like it. He doesn’t sleep much that night.
- When christmas day dawns and Credences turn to give Newt his present arrives it’s all he can’t do not to tremble. His hands still shake as he holds the bound pages in front of him, not daring to look Newt in the eye.
- He feels Newt take the journal from his hands and quickly retracts them to his side, waiting for rejection, or ever worse; a pity smile. God forbid. But neither came.
- Looking up he sees tears glimmering on Newt’s face, his lips stretched into a watery smile.
- “Credence, can I- can I hug you please?” Newt says, voice barely controlled, his arms trembling with nervous energy. Credence nods, slightly confused.
- Newt all but launches himself at the other man, Smiling into Credence’s shoulder. “no-one has ever taken much of an interest in my creatures before. Thank you Credence, this…these are beautiful” He looks up at Credence and smiles at him, his whole face radiating joy.
-Credence smiles back, and for a moment there is a strange electricity punctuating the air between them.
- Credence’s eyes flicker down to the other man’s smiling lips, just as he leans in however; Newt bounds up to show the drawings to Jacob who has just returned from his morning duty of making coffee and croissants for the team.
- Queenie and Tina, both of whom had been watching eagerly from the kitchen doorway both turn to glare at Jacob. Who frowns questioningly at their malice, before turning his attention to the beautiful drawings that Newt is practically shoving in his face.
- As Newt makes his way back to sit on the plush sofa with Credence, an idea pops into Queenie’s head.
- Retrieving her wand from her dressing gown pocket she flicks it towards the fireplace where bunches of holly, ivy, and more importantly; mistletoe, decorate the oak.
- levitating the mistletoe over to where the boys are sat, engrossed in the drawings as Credence
explains the benefits of cross hatching over soft shading. She prays that at least one of them will take the hint.
- Credence is the first to notice, his eyes going wide as he clocks the mistletoe which hangs perfectly between the two of them. He’s seen the strange plant everywhere around the city, usually accompanied by strange posters and pictures of couples kissing. But what significance did that have n- oh. He looks over to Queenie who nods encouragingly. Turning back to Newt, he sees that the other man has also noticed the offending branches, and has begun to wring his hands, looking uncertainly at Credence, blush becoming a backlight to his freckles.
- “I-um” Newt shifts uncomfortably next to Credence, like he is wondering whether to move closer or to jump off of the sofa all-together. “mistletoe is supposed to symbolise, it’s um- we’re supposed to”
“I know”
Newt laughed awkwardly before looking intently at credence’s shoulder. “sorry, i shouldnt have even- i didn’t mean to- i don’t know how this got here, frankly, and i hope i haven’t upset you cr-”
Credence cut off Newt’s ramblings by swiftly closing the gap between them, planting a closed mouth kiss on the other man’s lips.
- before he can even begin to regret his hasty action, the sound of cheering sounds from the kitchen. He breaks away from Newt gently. - Credence had never had a christmas before. But as he studies Newt’s face, eyes lidded slightly and trained adoringly on Credence, he decides he likes it.

Daddy?

lol at the title i’m so sorry but like i couldn’t resist LOL sry if this is a giant vacuole of shit, but like the lil idea popped into my head, and so instead of requesting it from someone else, I thought i’d give a go at writing. But as you all probs know… i’m a double science major so i can’t write worth shat… lawls. anyways, idk why i can’t do anything without rambling. Enjoy this. It gave me a good chuckle.

word count: idk… a lot? 


You wake up early this morning from the urgent sense to throw up. You try to be as discreet and quiet as possible so you don’t wake your snoozing husband, Shawn, who is laying in the bed next to you, but your old New York City apartment squeaks if you breathe the wrong way.

You ditch any effort of silence, though, when you feel the puke coming on, and within a matter of seconds you are hunched over the toilet bowl. As you are hurling your guts out, you feel a warm hand settle on your back and another move the baby hairs out of your face that have fallen out of your sleepy bun. 

When you can’t puke anymore, you sit there almost draped over the toilet with your forehead resting on the seat. You never get sick like this. You haven’t puked since your freshman year of Uni, and that was only the result of an excessive amount of alcohol consumed during that infamous Delta Sig Frat party. 

“Baby, are you okay? You don’t feel fevered or anything. Do you think you have food poisoning?” Shawn asks you after a few minutes when he decides you’re probably not going to throw up anymore. 

“I don’t know, we didn’t eat anything weird for dinner last night. I don’t know what it could be.” You reply back, looking at the concern in his honey brown eyes. You get up off the floor and move to the sink to brush your teeth to try and get the horrible after taste out of your mouth.

In the middle of rinsing out your mouth, you start counting on your fingers after a thought pops into your head. 

You’re late. 

You drop the toothbrush in its holder and run to your closet trying to find some yoga pants and a t shirt to throw on.

“Babe, what… where are you going?” Shawn asks, following you back into the bedroom. 

“I’m late” is all you say over and over again. You can’t find a t shirt of your own, so you hop over the bed to Shawn’s closet. You grab your favorite t shirt of his– the grey one with the Hogwarts crest on it– and his maroon hoodie that he swears you wear more than he does, and throw them on over some yoga pants, putting on your adidas sneakers right after. 

“Hon, late for what? It’s Saturday.” He says, coming up to you and placing both of his hands on your shoulders to stop you from racing around the room like a maniac. 

You stop moving at his touch and look right into his eyes, “I’m late, Shawn. I’m two weeks late.”

His eyes widen with surprise and his lips form an “O”. 

“So..are you…does this mean…” He stutters, trying to form a coherent thought, but the idea of being a dad swirling around in his head is keeping him from being able to process.

“I don’t know… maybe? I gotta… i gotta go to the drugstore. Get a pregnancy test or something, right?” 

You’re just as baffled as him. You’re both at the peak of your careers right now,  so you never chanced unprotected sex. You’re about to graduate medical school and he is just three months away from releasing his fifth album.The thought of being parents was always super exciting and something the both of you wanted to do, but it always seemed so far into the future. You couldn’t possibly be pregnant now.


You return from the store about an hour later with 6 pregnancy tests (”I didn’t know what kind to get or what brand to get or what would be the most accurate or really anything about pregnancy tests or pregnancy in general because i’m only 24!”) and run into the bathroom so that you can take them. You pick the first one out of the bag and rip it open. As you’re peeing on the little stick, all you can think is “Please God, don’t let it be positive. Don’t let it be positive.”

Shawn keeps knocking on the door trying to get you to let him in, but you can’t. You can’t have him in here if you find out that you’re about to stall his career with a baby. 

The timer on your phone rings signaling that the test is done, but you don’t even flinch. Shawn hears the sound through the door and starts knocking again. 

“Y/n, please, I need to be in there with you. This isn’t just you. I’m the… I’m the dad.” He says softly through the door. You take a deep breath in and out. He’s right. This is happening to the both of you, not just to you. You decide to let him in before  you look at the results. 

At your first little jiggle of the handle to unlock the door, Shawn practically knocks it down trying to get in as fast as possible. He sees the little white stick sitting on the counter face down and instantly freezes. 

“Have you looked at it yet?” He asks, not breaking his fixed stare at the test. 

“I can’t. You have to. I can’t.” He looks at you with nervous eyes and walks over to the test, picking it up and flipping it over to look at the results.

You stare at his face anxiously awaiting to read his expression for signs of relief or regret, but his face stays expressionless.

“Y/N,” He starts, looking right at you.

“Yeah…” You reply nervously, eyes fixed on the test in his hands.

“I don’t know how to read one of these things.” He says, and a smile forms on his lips. You let out a shorty chuckle and smack your palm to your forehead. 

“Damn, way to ruin a dramatic moment, babe” You say, but on the inside you’re glad that he found a way to lighten the mood. This is one of the many reasons why you’re absolutely certain that you married the right guy.  The nerves evaporate from your body, and you start to get a little excited at the thought of having a baby with Shawn. 

With this new feeling of reassurance, you take the stick from out of his hands and flip it over, knowing that if you drag out the process of discovering if you’re about to become a mom any longer you will actually explode. 

You read the results on the stick and let out a breath that you didn’t realize you had been holding in and your stomach drops. 

“So, does this mean I get to call you ‘Daddy’ now?” You say with a smile forming on your face. 

Shawn’s eyes widen and he lets out a huge laugh before pulling you into a big hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and you feel yourself lifted of the ground. He spins you around before setting you back gently on the ground once he remembers that there’s now a baby in your tummy. His baby

He drops down to his knees and presses his ear to your stomach as if he could actually hear the baby inside of you. Then, you start to hear a barely audible whisper saying “Hi, baby, I’m your dad. Me and your mom love you. We’re gonna love you and hold you and protect you forever. I can’t believe I’m actually your dad.”

You feel a few tears spill over down your cheeks, and one drops onto one of Shawn’s hands. He looks up at you with the biggest smile on his face that you have ever seen. He stands back up slowly and gently grabs your face. He leans in and kisses away the few tears on your cheeks, then your forehead, and down to the tip of your nose, finally pressing his soft lips agains yours. 

“You’re going to be the best dad.” You say once you break apart from him. 

“I love you so much.” He tells you, looking deep into your eyes before pulling you back in for another kiss. 



a/n: I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO END IT I’M SORRY IF ITS TERRIBLE AJSRKJANSLJNA OK BYE

LIAR LIAR: PART 1

A LIE

SUMMARY: -request-You told your sister that you have a boyfriend so she’d stop trying to set you up with people but now she’s coming to visit and you’re in too deep and need a fake boyfriend ASAP. (THANK YOU TO @super-slick-fanfic-chick for letting me use this idea for my series! Love you!)

PAIRING: Barry X Reader 

WARNINGS: none really

A/N: I am so happy to announce that I am finally done with finals and have returned to the land of fan fiction and tumblr. This was a lot of fun to write, even though finals kept me busy and writers block tried to stop me. Let me know what you guys think and whether you want part 2 or not! ALSO! thank you @winchester-with-wings   for editing this! You rock!

        You are seriously starting to consider murder. Life imprisonment doesn’t seem so bad if that means a break from your sister’s constant nagging on your perpetual single life. But if you’re being honest with yourself, she’d probably haunt your ass, asking why you still haven’t found a man. You know she means well, just wanting you to find the same happiness she’s found with her wife, Jane.

           However, with terrible blind dates one after the other, set up by your well-meaning sister, you couldn’t handle any more. That’s why when Thanksgiving came swinging around this year, you tried everything to get out of it. Even going as far as to say you were in the hospital, but your mom saw through every lie. She’s known you long enough to spot it over the phone, (it’s a little discontenting at times). So here you are, miles away from your home in Central City where you could be wrapped in a blanket or dining in with Barry, who had invited you to Thanksgiving with him, Iris, and Joe. Instead, you sit at your family dinner table, with your sister, Megan, across from you in the middle of one of her infamous rants. Like this one, they usually focused on your “fast approaching doom” of becoming a spinster.

“Y/n, I’m just saying that there comes a time in your life where you have to ask yourself, is it me?” Megan chides as she passes the mashed potatoes to your dad. Unintentionally your jaw clenches, it has developed into a habit around Megan.

“Right, dad?” She asks him, like a child waiting for approval. He seems like a deer in headlights and makes the wise decision of standing from the table and claiming to have forgotten the gravy. Even though it was sitting in front Aunt May.

           It doesn’t take Megan a second for her to spin her head back to you, her face a bit softer.

“You know what? There was this guy, Sam something, I met at a charity event last time I was visiting you in Central City. I think you both would hit it off—“

“Meg, honey, not now.” Jane, your sister-in-law, pleads, and you mouth out a ‘thank you’ to her. You’ve spoken too soon; however, as Megan pulls out her phone waving Jane off.

“Just a second, I’m sure I have his number in here somewhere.”

           Your heart beat quickens while anxiety follows. You are not going on another crappy blind date.

“Meg, stop it. I’m serious!” You beg, but she’s glued to her phone. Heat bubbles up inside of you, and anger fills your head, turning your ears red. “Megan,” Damn, what are you going to have to do to convince her to give it up? This is getting ridiculous.

“Found it!” She exclaims, and you forget to think. (God, you’re an idiot sometimes).

“I have a boyfriend!”

           At that, your sister is snapped back to reality, and it takes you a minute to let the words sink in. Shit, what did you just do? Your mind flies through possible ways out, take it back, lie, act like nothing happened…but it all brought you back to the simple point: if your sister thinks you’re taken, no more blind dates, no more speeches of being doomed to live alone. Of course you don’t really have a boyfriend, but how hard can faking it be?

                                       **6 MONTHS LATER**

 

           Pretending to have a boyfriend has turned out to really not be that hard. With your sister almost never visiting, all you really had to do was answer questions about your “boyfriend” whenever she called. And man, was it bliss, to not be worried about what blind date was next.

           Barry’s feet rest on top of your coffee table, and you stretch your legs on top of his. He smirks, and pulls his eyes away from the movie.

“Comfortable?” He asks, laughter hinted in his voice.

“Very.” You give him a cheeky grin, cuddling up next to your best friend. Chuckling, he wraps his arm around you.

           Tonight was one of your weekly movie marathons with Barry. When no metahumans would be tearing the town apart and Barry, aka the Flash, didn’t have to stop them, the two of you would choose movies you’ve never seen, or movies you wanted to see again or TV shows and marathon them together. Eating more popcorn and milk duds than humanly possible, and joking around. Sometimes muting the television and making up your own commentary for the characters.

“Hey, we’re out of popcorn,” You point out and look up at Barry expectantly, causing him to roll his eyes with a smirk. He doesn’t need to respond and he moves away his arm, standing up and moving towards the kitchen, taking the empty bowl with him.

“Thank you!” You call to him, stretching out the ‘ooo’ sound as you say it.

           Suddenly, the noise of someone knocking against your door enters into the apartment. Groaning, you toss the blanket you had to the side and make your way towards your front door.

“Barry,” you yell out, pulling open the door as you speak, “did you order pizza again? You know there is such a thing as too much pizza…” Your voice regresses suddenly when you’re met with the person standing at the door. Instead of a pasty, teen in delivery uniform and holding a pizza box, your sister, Megan, is there.

“Surprise!”

           She reigns you into a hug, taking you in by the neck causing you to laugh.

“What are you doing here?” You inquire, pulling away to get a good look at her. You haven’t seen her since Christmas.

“What? A loving sister can’t visit?” One look from you has her giggling away her previous serious expression and walks inside, dropping her coat into your arms. “Okay, your right. My business is hosting another Charity event here! It did so well, last year and I thought, ‘hey if I’m in town, why not stay a couple days with my younger sis?’”

“So, you’re staying here? At my place?” Oh no.

“Well yeah, unless, of course, if you want me to go…”

“No, no, of course not, it’s just—“

“Y/n, I get it, you don’t want me to intrude on you and the boyfriend, but I swear I’ll be the best guest ever. You and him are even invited to the Charity Gala!” You don’t know how to respond, but she doesn’t notice, her eyes busy looking around the room. “Where is the guy anyway? I want to meet the man who stole my sister’s heart.”

           Right about now you wanted to hit yourself in the head with a frying pan. How could you forget, about telling her you and your make believe “BF” were living together? Another one of your brilliant lies, at the time you thought it made your story more believable, but now you were wishing you kept your mouth shut.

“Megan, I have to tell you something,” you begin, the truth has to come out. You can’t invent a boyfriend out of thin air.

“Oh, don’t tell me that you and him broke up? I mean seriously, Y/n, can you not keep a man?”

           At that, you shut your mouth tight. It was all flooding back again, like nothing had changed. It’s in this moment, that Barry, bless his soul, decides to come out from the kitchen, a newly filled bowl of popcorn in his hand.

“Double buttered just how you like it,” His voice trails off when he sees that you’re not alone, his eyebrows crinkling together for a moment.

“Oh, you must be him! I am so happy to finally meet you!” Megan’s face lights up when she sees Barry, quickly walking over to him and enveloping him into a similar hug she gave you earlier.

“Uh, Barry meet my sister, Megan. Megan, this is Barry.” You introduce, awkwardly shoving your hands into your pockets. Your best friend’s face lights up in recognition and immediately returns a smile towards your sister.

“It’s really nice to meet you, too. Y/n, has told me a lot about you,” he tells her and she looks him up and down with a grin plastered to her face.

“Y/n, you didn’t tell me your boyfriend was hot.” She exclaims,

“What?” Barry questions, his face in complete shock and bewilderment. Megan, luckily, didn’t catch on.

“Hey, I may be gay, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know a hot guy when I see one, and my sister has definitely snatched up a good one.” She replies in confidence, and you want to hide your face in your hands.

“You know what, Barry, can you come with me?” You say finally, trying to control this before things gets out of hand, “I, uh, need some help setting up the guest bedroom.”

“Uh, yeah, okay.” He agrees, reluctant, placing the popcorn on a table nearby.

“Meg, just make yourself at home, we’ll be right back!” You tell her before pulling you and Barry into the spare bedroom.

           You turn around, after closing the door behind the two of you, and are met by Barry’s stern green eyes and his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Okay,” you begin, reaching out to him, “I can explain.”


“Run that by me again?”

           Barry sits on the edge of the bed, and he runs his fingers through his hair, before turning to look back at you, across from him.

“Barry, you know I wouldn’t be asking you if I had another choice,” you don’t bother to repeat the plan again, you’ve already done it twice.

“Okay, let me get this straight. You told your sister you were dating someone so she would stop setting you up on blind dates, but now she’s here and you need me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

           You move closer to him,

“She’s only in town for a couple days. Barry please, I’m desperate.”

           He bites the inside of his cheek, like he does when he’s thinking something over. Your heart beats anxiously for his answer.

“How sure are you that it’s going to work?”

“Like 20%.”

“And the other 80?”

“The other 80% means my sister finding out I’ve been lying to her for months and she never talks to me again.”

“Those odds suck.”

“I know, but I need you, Bare.”

           Barry smiles and scratches a spot behind his ear, before giving a reluctant sigh.

“Why not? It should be fun.” He breaks into a large grin, and you tackle him, covering him in a bear hug.

“Seriously? Thank you so much!” Barry laughs into you, his back lying on the bed from when he fell against your sudden burst. You fall to the side, rolling off of him. The two of you stay like that, for a second, giggles being shared between the two of you. Him on his back, with his head turned to see you and you on your side, a hand propping up your head. Barry’s the first to speak,

“How hard can it be, right?”

4

“On a night like this, a man might believe anything’s possible.”