#Mr Burton nods again.

[afewproblems]

Difficult Days Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Read on AO3

Detective Vick is not what Shawn expected. 

First of all, it's Detective Karen Vick, and second, she's much younger and softer spoken than her association with Henry would suggest. 

When she comes to collect Shawn a good twenty minutes later, she clears her throat and waits for him to acknowledge her presence. 

Her shoulder length blond hair hangs around her face in a ‘Shag’ cut that vaguely reminds him of a Friend's character, Phoebe? No that's the blonde, what the hell was her name again?

“Rachel,” Shawn says, snapping his fingers in triumph, only to realize he's spoken aloud and the Detective is starring with an amused, if slightly bewildered, expression.

She presses a hand against her chest and says, “no Mr. Spencer, Detective Vick”. 

Shawn feels his ears burn but still manages a small grin as the Detective motions for him to stand up and follow her to a small room just off the bullpen. 

The tall rookie from earlier is sitting at a desk in the far corner, he watches Shawn before looking back down at the paperwork on his desk, a small self satisfied smirk on his face.

“So,” Detective Vick says as she opens the door and steps aside to let Shawn go first, “I'm sure I don't have to tell you how this works Mr. Spencer,” 

“Uh,” he swallows and runs his now sweaty palms down his jeans as he takes in the ink pads and paper on the metal table in front of him. 

Holy shit.

Holy shit, he was going to jail.

This was real, he wasn't a minor, his fingerprints would be in the system for the rest of his life, he was going to be shipped off to the state prison, how many years would someone get for taking their neighbors car? 

Everything is slipping away from him, Anthony, his parents, his fucking future.

Shawn feels his chest stutter as he realizes he hasn't been breathing.

“I get a phone call right?” Shawn croaks out, his voice quiet enough that Detective Vick has to lean closer to hear.

She raises a single polished eyebrow, her eyes scanning Shawn’s face for a brief moment, assessing something.

Maybe it's because she's a stranger, but her stare isn't nearly as intense as his dads so Shawn meets her gaze, despite his internal panic, waiting for her to say no or brush him aside.

“Okay kid,” she says, tipping her head over to the door, “there's a phone at my desk, dial nine to call out, then come back here and we'll talk”.

Shawn nods, stepping away from the Detective and the open door and making his way over to the desk she pointed out. 

The first thing Shawn notices are the pictures among the neat piles of paperwork and files, one of the Detective receiving an award in her dress uniform, another with the Detective and a tall man who looks about her age, probably a boyfriend based on their expressions. 

The rookie from earlier clears his throat loudly across the bullpen, staring Shawn down as if to say, quit stalling.

Not that Shawn wants to spend any longer here than necessary. If by some miracle he does get to walk out of here tonight, he’ll never so much as jaywalk again.

Shawn shakes himself and reaches out for the phone, dialing the number with a practiced hand.

It rings, long and loud in his ear once before pausing briefly and ringing again. Shawn holds his breath, please, please, pick up, he thinks miserably.

“Hello?” a sleepy voice says over the line and Shawn releases a shaky breath of relief.

“Hi Mrs. Guster, can I speak to G--Burton please?”

“Shawn? Do you know what time it is?” Mrs. Guster says, her voice firm but the barest hint of concern seeps into her question.

He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly through his nose, “I know it's late, but it's important, please Mrs. Guster.”

“Okay, hold on,” she says tiredly. Shawn hears the rustle of clothing as Gus’ mom makes her way upstairs with the cordless phone, then muffled voices in the background as Mrs. Guster finally passes the phone to her son.

“Gus?”

“Shawn? Do you know what time it is? You're lucky mom even woke me up!”

“Gus stop, I-” he swallows the heavy lump that has started to form in his throat, “do you remember when T.S gets dumped by his girlfriend in that Kevin Smith movie we went to see?”

“What? You called me to talk about Mallrats? Shawn--”

“Gus, just,” he feels his voice waver as he tries to keep it light and quiet, hyper aware of the way Lassiter’s eyes keep flicking his way.

“That movie,” his voice cracks slightly and Shawn winces, curling further away from the blue eyes across the room, “it didn't really do it justice, uh, how much getting dumped sucks”.

Gus is quiet on the other end of the line but Shawn hears the sharp intake of air and suddenly he can’t stop the words from coming, falling out of his mouth like vomit. 

“You were right Gus, he uh, he's going to Princeton, can't have someone like me dragging him down, wait, maybe I'm the Brodie in this scenario,” he tries for a laugh that comes out watery and wipes his nose, “I should have listened to you”.

“Shawn--”

“And Henry knows,” he blurts out, cutting Gus off before he chickens out, “it's--it's not good Gus, I'm at the station--”

“What!” Gus exclaims, loud enough that Shawn briefly moves the receiver away from his ear, “the f-- he can't arrest you for being Bi, this isn't the 50s!” 

He hears rustling in the background, the sound of jeans and a belt buckle clinking as Gus presumably gets dressed.

Shawn feels some of the heavy weight in his chest lift and can’t quite stop the ghost of a smile from pulling at his lips. He knew he could count on Gus, he could always count on Gus.

“Could you and your mom come down?” Shawn says softly into the receiver,

“We’re on our way honey”.

“Mom!” Gus sputters and Shawn nearly drops the phone this time, he manages to catch it and bring it back to his ear just in time to hear Gus say, “you were listening?!”

Mrs. Guster sucks her teeth and Shawn can almost picture her rolling her eyes, “oh please Burton, you think I'm not going to listen when Shawn calls us in the middle of the night? I don't need a mother's intuition to know something's wrong”.

Shawn holds his breath again, as some of the anxiety from earlier creeps its way back into his spine, how long had she been listening? 

Shawn knows Mrs. Guster isn't overly fond of him after all the years of trouble-making and roping her son into his antics, garnering more calls to the Principal's office than the Gusters would have expected for their boy. 

And what if she had heard what Shawn said about Anthony, if she was listening the whole time–

“Shawn? Are you still there?” Mrs. Guster says sharply, halting the panicked spiral of thoughts before he can tumble all the way down, “don't say a word till I get there okay? We're on our way”.

“Yeah, that’s--okay,” Shawn breathes out as the wave of exhaustion that has been threatening to wash over him finally spreads down from the top of his head to his shoulders, making him slump slightly as the tension begins to bleed out of his shoulders. He hangs up the phone after another beat and releases a shaky breath, lifting his hands to press his fingers into his eyes for the second time that night.

The sound of a throat clearing behind him has Shawn lookup, slightly startled, to see Detective Vick standing behind him. The rookie is also pretending not to watch him from behind the Detective. He stands at the water dispenser, all legs and lanky arms; it's comical to see him try to be inconspicuous with a half empty paper cup, blue eyes pinched in something awful, like pity. 

Shawn wonders if he could get away with kicking the cop in the shins without adding another charge to his new rap sheet.

“You get a hold of your mom?” Detective Vick asks softly.

“Something like that,” Shawn says quietly as the Detective nods and beckons him back into the room. 

***

After a long night of taking his fingerprints and photos --where Shawn was reprimanded several times to face the correct way and to stop standing on his tiptoes at the last second to inflate his height, and finally his statement --though this was even harder for the Detective to get through without cracking just a bit after Shawn referred to Henry as, ‘what the Assistant Principal in the Breakfast Club wished he could be’.

It takes well over two hours before Shawn is released back into the main lobby. It’s still dark out thankfully but Shawn has no clue what time it is between the lack of daylight and the new wave of exhaustion that hits him in the gut as he slowly makes his way to the waiting area. 

Despite the wait in the horrible chairs in the lobby, Mrs. Guster and Gus are both there, waiting patiently for him. 

Gus launches himself off the chair faster than Shawn can say his name as he finds himself nearly tackled to the cold tiled floor.

“Don’t do that again man,” Gus says softly into Shawns shoulder as he hugs him tightly before pushing him away harshly, “it’s two in the morning, what the hell did you do that it took so long to get out? You didn’t actually murder Anthony did you, because I was hoping to get a shot in--”

“Dude!” Shawn squawks, his eyes dart to Mrs. Guster who is pointedly looking at the clock on the wall above their heads. She’s wearing a long cardigan over her pajamas and a tired expression on her face as she turns her gaze back to Shawn and her son. The periwinkle bonnet covering her hair does nothing to soften the air of annoyance following Mrs. Guster as she gives them the barest shake of her head and tells them to get in the car or start walking. 

Shawn releases a sigh of relief as Mrs. Guster herds Shawn and Gus into the little Ford Pinto, she hasn’t said a word since they left the building and seems content to listen to Gus speak for the both of them as they pull out of the department parking lot and onto the empty Santa Barbara downtown streets. 

He was expecting a lecture, or at least a stern warning to never call their home in the middle of the night like this again. But the silence is almost more terrifying as Gus begins to nod off next to Shawn in the back seat, he can’t get a good read on Mrs. Guster in her silence. Shawn picks at his thumbnail absently as he turns his head to the passenger window, startling slightly as Mrs. Guster clears her throat from the front seat.

“Shawn,” she says softly. Her eyes catch his in the rearview mirror, “I know we haven't always…” 

She breathes out and tries again, shifting her gaze back to the road, “Burton has always said you were a good boy, and we--I…”

Mrs. Guster releases another long breath and goes quiet, her brow furrowing slightly as she grips the steering wheel just a little tighter.  

Shawn holds his breath, the seat belt stretching tight across his neck like a noose as they continue down the highway. 

Then, in a voice softer than Shawn has ever heard Mrs. Guster use in more than ten years of knowing her, she says his name and holds his gaze in the rearview mirror once more. 

“You have a place to stay. With us…I hope you know that,” her voice is steady now but just as soft as when she said his name, “and I don’t care what that father of yours thinks, there is nothing wrong with you, do you understand?”

Shawn only manages a small nod as the lump in his throat doubles in size, erasing his voice completely. It earns him a kind smile in return from Mrs. Guster as she holds Shawn’s gaze for another beat before shifting her attention back to the dimly lit road. 

Shawn doesn't speak for the rest of the ride that night. Content to let the silence in the vehicle, punctuated by Gus's soft snores, and the soft golden light of the street lights wash over him as they make their way home.

Tag List: @adaed5 @drakkywolf @newgrangespirals @riverofrainbows (If you want to be removed or added to the tag list please let me know!)

[echantedtoon]

Love Is Maddening

Reminiscing about their past meetings and the woman she grew into has Jack thinking maybe he is mad for wanting to see her one last time.

(I own nothing/Everything belongs to Disney. Coverart not mine and found on Pinterest. It's a bit au-ish but meh.)

(WARNING: There will be mentioning of past death and some graphic scenes being described from the Alice in Wonderland movie.

I want to make this clear. The version of Alice used is from the live action movie Alice in Wonderland directed by Tim Burton and the Alice in this story is an ADULT!! It is NOT based on the animated Wonderland movie. There is flashbacks of Alice and Jack first meeting as Kids since Alice in the Tim Burton movie had flashbacks of herself first stumbling into wonderland as a kid but ONLY because this is au-ish where they both met as kids. But again. THIS IS TIM BUTTON'S ADULT ALICE BEING SHIPPED WITH JACK!! I DON'T SUPPORT ANY OTHER ALICE BEING SHIPPED WITH THIS COUPLE!!)

It was maddening. Really it was.

He was another card. So not really a something that stood out even amongst the many other oddities and others that roamed this world. So what was he to do? Well there was the Queen in Red. She paid him the most attention to him as one of her guards even if his tricks often had her threatening to lope off his head or annoy others. Perhaps that's why child him was excited when he met another child around his age. He was just minding his own business when he crossed her path and she startled her. By jumping out of the bush and shoving his face into hers.

''Hey!" The blonde girl jumped and stumbled back landing on her behind as he laughed and stepped out of the bush. "Good thing I stopped you. Or else you would've stepped on the whatchamacallits."

The girl blinked and shook her blonde hair as she stared at the young boy in front of her. "...T-The what?"

"The whatchamacallits! Not to be confused for the whozeewhatzits," he explained as she just stared at him.

The girl still stared at him before frowning. "What?"

"Then again the whatchamacallits are a lot better looking than the whatchas." He smiled wider as she stood up dusting off her blue dress. "Not as friendly either so it's good for you I was here to warn you."

"What nonsense are you spouting?" She placed her hands on her hips and frowned more. "Who even are you?"

''Jack's the name. Not to be confused with Mr. Jack Of-All-Trades or Mr. Jack In-The-Box. Those are two completely different people!" She scrunched up her nose more confused. "And your name?"

"Alice. How do you do?"

"What?"

"What?.... What?"

"How do you do what?" He smiled wider. "I can do lots of things."

Alice, she said her name was, crossed her arms and looked at him. "Oh. More nonsense. Nevermind. I've met enough already. I'd much rather go on my way now." 

She then stepped around him and started to walk but he followed. He's never seen another child around his age for a long time now. That caught his interest and the strange way she spoke. Maybe she'd play with him! She seemed annoyed when he leaned over to walk with her and look at her face. He giggled at the way her nose scrunched up like a rabbit's. She sure looked funny when she was annoyed.

"Whatcha doing?"

"I'm trying to find something."

"Things huh? Do you mean thingamajigs?"

She stopped to stare at him again. "What?"

"Thingamajigs! Not to be confused for their cousins thingamabobs! It's ok. They're quite often mistaken for one another so don't feel too bad. Hey! Do you wanna play a game?' He perked up excitedly at her. "Let's play a game! You can choose which one you want to play!"

The girl just..stared at him up and down for a long moment before gaining a thoughtful look and nodding at him. "Ok. Do you know how to play hide and seek?"

He lit up happily. "I'm the best hider AND seeker! Not to brag but I'm the best at sneaking around."

"Let's play hide and seek then." She pointed at him. "You count to a hundred and I'll go hide. Alright?"

He happily nodded in agreement and quickly covered his eyes and began to count as Alive quickly turned and ran as fast as her feet could carry her down the road and disappeared from sight. He had to admit, Alice was a good hider. He couldn't find her again until HOURS later when he found  her crossing the maze towards the Queen's Castle. Oh! He wasn't about to be bested as the seeker. So he followed right after however...he was too late. When he did find her again it was when the Queen was yelling for the young child and three other cards to be locked up until their heads could be loped off later for planting the wrong roses and then painting them all red. Hey! That wasn't Fair! He hasn't even been able to tell her that he found her yet.

Well that wouldn't do at all.

Luckily he knew this place like the back of a playing card. He was EASILY able to get inside and into the dungeons where he found one little girl in a cell. She didn't even see him until he reached between the bars and grabbed her shoulder making her shriek and whirl around to his laughing form.

"I found you! You're a good hider! Ok. Now it's my turn to count!," Jack excitedly smiled at her.

She panted a few times blinking before scowling. "You again? Go away!" She made shooing motions with her hands. "I don't have time for your nonsense! I need to get out before the Queen comes back and offs my head."

"Well...It wouldn't be fair if you didn't get your turn to find me." He giggled mischievously as a jingling of keys sounded and he held up a ring of them with a smile. "I also have tricks up my sleeve to show!"

He ended up sneaking her out and leading her to the very back of the castle. Letting her go with a smile. 

"Ok. You go somewhere to count and then try to find me. I'm sure you will eventually.''

To be fair she did. Many years later. As the years went by Wonderland got more dangerous. The Red Queen crazier if that was possible. And Alice became an infamous name. Prophecy and all that that made the Queen madder and madder in both the crazy and angry sense of the word. He was surprised he managed to stay out of trouble so long. By now he expected to have his head chopped off and have it thrown in the pond with all her other alleged enemies or at the very least throw him in the dungeon or exile. But he was one of the lucky ones. And guess whom he happened to see in her castle years later after eating a growing cake and in a makeshift dress of curtains. 

"Looks like you finally found me."

The tall blonde girl  just looked down at his mischievous look confused. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

He chuckled again at her. "You can say that I'm a better seeker than hider."

"Would you put that down?"

He hummed looking up from the magnifying glass he held up in front of his face in question snapping him out of memory lane. The quietness of the study was broken as the voice of the woman cut through. He hummed looking up at the source of the voice before smiling widely. The silence was only filled by the ticking of the clock behind her and the crackling of the fire in the fireplace that filled the study with warmth. The light danced across the shadows and lit up the place in the dark. It was a rather cozy room with many shelves of books, comfy chairs, and the desk with a giant map sprawled upon it.

"I was just looking. Working late tonight. Aren't you, Alice?"

The blonde woman only frowned and yanked the hourglass from his hand. "I'm helping chart a new route before I sail again. But somehow you always bother me whenever Im home." She gently placed the magnifying glass back onto the desk. "Why are you even here again? Shouldn't you be helping the White Queen?"

"Nah. I'm actually thinking about staying out of politics. Too messy of a business anyways."

Her brow rose. "And you think sitting in my chair and bothering me whenever possible is a good career shift?"

He shrugged before leaning back in the comfy chair. "What can I say? I find the Jabberwocky slayer a much more interesting person than most of the oddities in stark contrast. In some ways you're more unpredictable."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment or insult? Coming from you I can never tell."

He chuckled more as he rose a brow back. "So..I heard you turned down that marriage proposal from that man Ham."

"Hamish," she corrected him raising a brow as to why he'd bring that up. "Why do you bring up that topic?"

"Oh, no reason. I was just wondering if you'd were interested in playing another game with me. It's a question game?"  Her brow rose higher at him. "I ask one question and you give me an answer. Kinda like reverse truth and dare."

"....Alright. what kind of question did you have in mind?"

He smirked wider. "Would you marry me instead?"

He ended up laughing louder as she pushed him out of the comfy armchair with a red face.

[burtonandtaylor]

Richard Burton Interview with BBC reporter John Simpson (1977) - shortly after his 1976 divorce from Elizabeth Taylor.

I was the BBC’s radio correspondent in Johannesburg at the time when the African scenes in The Wild Geese were filmed… . The prospect of meeting Roger Moore, Richard Burton, Richard Harris and Hardy Kruger was, of course, an attractive one, though I probably didn’t mention that side of it. It would scarcely have sounded sophisticated. 

“If you remember, I asked for an interview with Richard Burton.” … I wasn’t expecting anything. If Richard Burton was too grand to have lunch with the others, he would certainly be too grand to be interviewed by me. The PR man came back looking apologetic. I was ready with a sharp reply, assuming I would be given a crisp turn-down. 

“He says if you don’t mind the mess in his caravan… . . [H]e’s just going through it a bit. That’s all.” 

He certainly was. Richard Burton’s ravaged, pockmarked face looked even harsher in reality than it did with all the care of the make-up artists. And despite the fierce sun outside he looked pale and unhealthy. 

But nothing could affect the voice. 

“Come in, come in, my dear boy,” he said, gripping my hand and pulling me up the steps… . The warmth of his tone outdid the afternoon heat. 

“Really sorry not to be down there with the others for lunch,” said Burton. “The fact is, you see, I’m on the wagon at the moment, and it doesn’t feel all that good, I have to confess… . Wish I’d been teetotal, like my old schoolmaster told me. But the stage, you know. And the company I’ve kept.” 

He gave a huge laugh, which seemed to make the entire caravan shake. It was a big one, with room enough for a sizeable (unmade) bed and a table covered with books, make-up bottles and photographs in silver frames. The biggest photograph was of Elizabeth Taylor. I had wondered how to broach the subject, after their divorce. But with Burton, whether it was because of the influence of the bundu or his free, open nature, there was no trouble at all. 

He saw the direction of my eyes. 

“Ah, Elizabeth. Isn’t she the most beautiful animal you’ve ever set eyes on?” 

… . I nodded, and felt emboldened. 

“So, you don’t feel bitter towards her?” 

“Bitter?” The caravan shook again. 

“Look, if she’d have me back I’d leave this sh—y film and this ghastly heat right now, and charter a plan to go wherever she was. Actually I know where she is. She’s in Malibu. I kind of keep in touch, you know.” 

“So why… . .?” 

“It’s the old thing: can’t live with her, can’t live without her. But I adore Elizabeth, and I always will.” 

There was a catch in his voice, and he looked out of the window at the baobab trees. 

“I don’t drink now, you know. I’m not pretending it’s not painful, but I’ve given it up for good. It was what Elizabeth hated most in me, I think, even though she’s pretty partial to it herself. It was like pouring petrol over our marriage. And now I don’t do it anymore. I hate it, in fact.” 

… . It seemed to me that a tear was glittering in his eye… . 

“What is it about her that you love so much?” 

“Ahhh,” he said expansively, waving his arms at the baobabs, “where does one start? ‘Age cannot wither her… .’ She’s a magnificent actress, you know, if only they will let her be.” 

“She’s lazy, they say, and they also say she’s not very bright, though that happens to be an outright, damned lie. It’s just that her brightness is a natural brightness, not necessarily a college brightness. She may not know all about Shakespeare or Marlowe or Albee, but she understands the emotional truth, and that is what she projects.” 

… “Director wants to know if you’re all right, Mr. Burton.” The voice was muffled by the door. 

“Tell the director to go and f—- himself. I’m reminiscing here about the divine Elizabeth, and mustn’t be disturbed.” 

“You were telling me about her understanding of the emotional truth of a part.” 

“Was I?” … “But you see, what I should have said was that she was a lass unparalleled. A woman of the most charming but also the most natural kind. She could take care of a man, you know.” 

He glanced at me. 

“No, I don’t mean that. What I mean is that she could be so normal, so natural, so caring. 

Listen. Once I took my brother and my business manager to Twickenham for the Wales-England match. Wales won; they always did in those days. And of course we had too much to drink, even my little runt of a manager. Much too much. And we came back on the Tube, and fetched up for some reason at Tottenham Court Road station. I must have said I knew a bar near there. It was late, you see, about midnight. 

There was a gang of about a dozen skinheads at the top, all tattooed with England flags on their chests and faces and arms; a rather fearsome sight. 

Well, it was too late to turn back, so we decided to take them head on. When I say we, I mean my brother and me. The last I saw of my manager, he was shouting, ‘You can’t hit me, I’ve got a briefcase.’ They gave us both a pretty good going-over. I think they were worse to me, though I don’t think they’d seen me on the screen. Maybe I was just bigger and uglier than my brother. 

And then they left us lying there at the entrance to the Tube. My brother said he thought he could manage to get home by himself, and he hailed a taxi for me. He had to do quite a lot of persuading, because my entire head was a mass of blood. But at least I didn’t seem to have any bones broken. I told the driver to take me to the Dorchester, and gave him a tenner. Which was pretty good money in those days. 

They wouldn’t let me in at the Dorchester, of course, till I told them who I was and demanded to see the manager. Then they were niceness itself, and two of them helped me to the door of our suite, though I told them to leave before I banged on the door for Elizabeth. 

But, you see, she was magnificent. Utterly magnificent. She didn’t have a fit of the vapours, she didn’t get excited, she didn’t even tick me off for being drunk and getting beaten up. 

‘Oh, you poor thing,’ was all she said, and she rang down for bowls of water and towels and bandages and God knows what. And when they sent up some kind of quack to look after me, she shooed him away. 

She sponged the blood off my face, and found that my left eye was halfway out of its socket, so she carefully put it back in. Would you ever imagine that someone like her would be able to do any of that? But she was tough, you see, and brave too. And she tucked me up I in bed with the bandages over my head, and at nine o’clock the next morning, when I was starting to feel a bit better, she ordered up a magnum of Bollinger to cheer me up. And then she sat on the side of the bed and toasted me and Wales’s victory.” 

He paused, and looked away from me and the microphone. 

“Magnificent woman, in every way. Magnificent. If I’m honest, my life is a little empty without her.” 

He thought for a moment. 

“No, if I’m honest, my life is horribly empty without her.” 

I (author) said goodbye not long afterwards, and shut the door of the caravan on him. He waved me out in the most courtly fashion, but I think he was probably glad to be left alone with Elizabeth Taylor’s picture.

[areyoudreaminof]

Danse Macabre WIP

The Jurian/Vassa companion piece to Hover Corte is coming along a lot faster and nicer than I thought. Which I’m excited about!

Mr. Burton’s jowls jiggled with every breath, but it was the whiskers Vassa could not take her eyes off of. Sparse and wiry, they repulsed her in a way she could not quite name. Facial hair on men was rare in Scythia, and hygiene was a sign of self respect. The merchant's body odor was masked by a cologne of oranges and patchouli. He held out his grease covered paws and rounded up the young woman beside him. “Ah, yes. And here is my dearest Katherine! Kitty, please pay your respects to the queen.” He shouted as he thrust the girl before Vassa.

“Your majesty.” The girl dipped into a low curtsy. Her bodice cut tightly into her chest, the garish red of the silk washing her skin out. Her mousy hair hung in limp curls and the dark rings under her eyes clashed with the loud pink rogue on her cheeks. Vassa winced. The girl had to have been fourteen at the oldest, too young and too tired to be here.

Vassa returned the curtsy, holding out her hand to the girl. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Burton. I must admit I am surprised your father allowed you to come to a ball this late.” Vassa stopped as she caught the girls eyes go wide.

“Oh, I do apologize your majesty. There has been a misunderstanding. Mr. Burton is my husband, not my father.” Kitty dipped her head low, her neck shrinking into her chest.

A cold sweat broke over Vassa’s body. This child was not that man’s wife. Surely, the humans of Prythian were not this barbaric? Vassa took a shuddering breath, “My apologies Mrs. Burton. I find myself famished. Would you take a turn around the room with me? Perhaps we can get some refreshments.”

Kitty seemed to brighten beneath her eyes as she nodded and took Vassa’s arm. Vassa searched the room again for Jurian, he had been gone too long and fear ate her innards as she gently led Kitty away from her husband.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Love Is Maddening 

Reminiscing about their past meetings and the woman she grew into has Jack thinking maybe he is mad for wanting to see her one last time.

(I own nothing/Everything belongs to Disney. Coverart not mine and found on Pinterest. It's a bit au-ish but meh.)

(WARNING: There will be mentioning of past death and some graphic scenes being described from the. Alice in Wonderland movie.

I want to make this clear. The version of Alice used is from the live action movie Alice in Wonderland directed by Tim Burton and the Alice in this story is an ADULT!! It is NOT based on the animated Wonderland movie. There is flashbacks of Alice and Jack first meeting as Kids since Alice in the Tim Burton movie had flashbacks of herself first stumbling into wonderland as a kid but ONLY because this is au-ish where they both met as kids. But again. THIS IS TIM BUTTON'S ADULT ALICE BEING SHIPPED WITH JACK!! I DON'T SUPPORT ANY OTHER ALICE BEING SHIPPED WITH THIS COUPLE!!)

It was maddening. Really it was.

He was another card. So not really a something that stood out even amongst the many other oddities and others that roamed this world. So what was he to do? Well there was the Queen in Red. She paid him the most attention to him as one of her guards even if his tricks often had her threatening to lope off his head or annoy others. Perhaps that's why child him was excited when he met another child around his age. He was just minding his own business when he crossed her path and she startled her. By jumping out of the bush and shoving his face into hers.

''Hey!" The blonde girl jumped and stumbled back landing on her behind as he laughed and stepped out of the bush. "Good thing I stopped you. Or else you would've stepped on the whatchamacallits."

The girl blinked and shook her blonde hair as she stared at the young boy in front of her. "...T-The what?"

"The whatchamacallits! Not to be confused for the whozeewhatzits," he explained as she just stared at him.

The girl still stared at him before frowning. "What?"

"Then again the whatchamacallits are a lot better looking than the whatchas." He smiled wider as she stood up dusting off her blue dress. "Not as friendly either so it's good for you I was here to warn you."

"What nonsense are you spouting?" She placed her hands on her hips and frowned more. "Who even are you?"

''Jack's the name. Not to be confused with Mr. Jack Of-All-Trades or Mr. Jack In-The-Box. Those are two completely different people!" She scrunched up her nose more confused. "And your name?"

"Alice. How do you do?"

"What?"

"What?.... What?"

"How do you do what?" He smiled wider. "I can do lots of things."

Alice, she said her name was, crossed her arms and looked at him. "Oh. More nonsense. Nevermind. I've met enough already. I'd much rather go on my way now." 

She then stepped around him and started to walk but he followed. He's never seen another child around his age for a long time now. That caught his interest and the strange way she spoke. Maybe she'd play with him! She seemed annoyed when he leaned over to walk with her and look at her face. He giggled at the way her nose scrunched up like a rabbit's. She sure looked funny when she was annoyed.

"Whatcha doing?"

"I'm trying to find something."

"Things huh? Do you mean thingamajigs?"

She stopped to stare at him again. "What?"

"Thingamajigs! Not to be confused for their cousins thingamabobs! It's ok. They're quite often mistaken for one another so don't feel too bad. Hey! Do you wanna play a game?' He perked up excitedly at her. "Let's play a game! You can choose which one you want to play!"

The girl just..stared at him up and down for a long moment before gaining a thoughtful look and nodding at him. "Ok. Do you know how to play hide and seek?"

He lit up happily. "I'm the best hider AND seeker! Not to brag but I'm the best at sneaking around."

"Let's play hide and seek then." She pointed at him. "You count to a hundred and I'll go hide. Alright?"

He happily nodded in agreement and quickly covered his eyes and began to count as Alive quickly turned and ran as fast as her feet could carry her down the road and disappeared from sight. He had to admit, Alice was a good hider. He couldn't find her again until HOURS later when he found  her crossing the maze towards the Queen's Castle. Oh! He wasn't about to be bested as the seeker. So he followed right after however...he was too late. When he did find her again it was when the Queen was yelling for the young child and three other cards to be locked up until their heads could be loped off later for planting the wrong roses and then painting them all red. Hey! That wasn't Fair! He hasn't even been able to tell her that he found her yet.

Well that wouldn't do at all.

Luckily he knew this place like the back of a playing card. He was EASILY able to get inside and into the dungeons where he found one little girl in a cell. She didn't even see him until he reached between the bars and grabbed her shoulder making her shriek and whirl around to his laughing form.

"I found you! You're a good hider! Ok. Now it's my turn to count!," Jack excitedly smiled at her.

She panted a few times blinking before scowling. "You again? Go away!" She made shooing motions with her hands. "I don't have time for your nonsense! I need to get out before the Queen comes back and offs my head."

"Well...It wouldn't be fair if you didn't get your turn to find me." He giggled mischievously as a jingling of keys sounded and he held up a ring of them with a smile. "I also have tricks up my sleeve to show!"

He ended up sneaking her out and leading her to the very back of the castle. Letting her go with a smile. 

"Ok. You go somewhere to count and then try to find me. I'm sure you will eventually.''

To be fair she did. Many years later. As the years went by Wonderland got more dangerous. The Red Queen crazier if that was possible. And Alice became an infamous name. Prophecy and all that that made the Queen madder and madder in both the crazy and angry sense of the word. He was surprised he managed to stay out of trouble so long. By now he expected to have his head chopped off and have it thrown in the pond with all her other alleged enemies or at the very least throw him in the dungeon or exile. But he was one of the lucky ones. And guess whom he happened to see in her castle years later after eating a growing cake and in a makeshift dress of curtains. 

"Looks like you finally found me."

The tall blonde girl  just looked down at his mischievous look confused. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

He chuckled again at her. "You can say that I'm a better seeker than hider."

"Would you put that down?"

He hummed looking up from the magnifying glass he held up in front of his face in question snapping him out of memory lane. The quietness of the study was broken as the voice of the woman cut through. He hummed looking up at the source of the voice before smiling widely. The silence was only filled by the ticking of the clock behind her and the crackling of the fire in the fireplace that filled the study with warmth. The light danced across the shadows and lit up the place in the dark. It was a rather cozy room with many shelves of books, comfy chairs, and the desk with a giant map sprawled upon it.

"I was just looking. Working late tonight. Aren't you, Alice?"

The blonde woman only frowned and yanked the hourglass from his hand. "I'm helping chart a new route before I sail again. But somehow you always bother me whenever Im home." She gently placed the magnifying glass back onto the desk. "Why are you even here again? Shouldn't you be helping the White Queen?"

"Nah. I'm actually thinking about staying out of politics. Too messy of a business anyways."

Her brow rose. "And you think sitting in my chair and bothering me whenever possible is a good career shift?"

He shrugged before leaning back in the comfy chair. "What can I say? I find the Jabberwocky slayer a much more interesting person than most of the oddities in stark contrast. In some ways you're more unpredictable."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment or insult? Coming from you I can never tell."

He chuckled more as he rose a brow back. "So..I heard you turned down that marriage proposal from that man Ham."

"Hamish," she corrected him raising a brow as to why he'd bring that up. "Why do you bring up that topic?"

"Oh, no reason. I was just wondering if you'd were interested in playing another game with me. It's a question game?"  Her brow rose higher at him. "I ask one question and you give me an answer. Kinda like reverse truth and dare."

"....Alright. what kind of question did you have in mind?"

He smirked wider. "Would you marry me instead?"

He ended up laughing louder as she pushed him out of the comfy armchair with a red face.

[crazyk-imagine]

Another One

Pairing: Carlton Lassiter/ Female reader 

Characters: Reader, Shawn Spencer, Carlton Lassiter, Juliet O’Hara, Burton “Gus” Guster, Henry Spencer, brief mentions of Buzz (more so his car) 

Warnings: Mentions of reader being thrown overboard (once), Shawn being a whining little shit XD, Henry says he likes the reader more

Word Count: 1,803

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"Hey, you know, I think I'm one too," you say, wrapping the towel around yourself, shielding you from the cold. You curl further into yourself while looking up at Shawn, the idiot psychic, as you’ve just recently started to call him (within the last two minutes). 

If someone had asked you how you felt about Shawn a day ago, you probably would have said he’s a… good friend or someone good to know if you’re ever in a sticky situation, something along those lines. 

But not today, not now because right now, all you call feel is the water droplets falling from face and hair, landing on the towel as you think about the friendship you two share. 

-

“We need to follow him,” Shawn whispers in your ear.

“What? Why?”

“Something’s not right. I have a feeling he’s going to strike again.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“Oh, but dear sweet fruity pebble lover, I am not wrong. In fact, I am more than right.”

“That makes no sense,” you say with a confused expression.

“You make no sense.”

“What?”

“What?”

“Okay, let’s try this-”

“I’m listening.”

“Don’t interrupt me. Let’s follow from a distance and not talk to the suspect.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun.”

“This isn’t fun. Technically this is supposed to be yours and Gus’s job but, he’s busy doing his real job-”

“This is a real job.”

“He has another job to pay bills and provide for himself. You’re basically his sugar baby.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

You nod sympathetically, patting his shoulder, “it’s true. No one else wants to admit it, so I will.”

“This is why I like you. You’re honest.”

You press your lips together, making them look thinner, “is that it?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We gonna follow him now.”

“Yeah. Afterwards, you wanna get some tacos?”

“Or jerk chicken?”

Shawn clicks his tongue, smiling, “I knew I liked you.”

-

"One what exactly?" Shawn asks, standing beside you, watching as Jules and Lassiter put the guy who tried to drown you, into Buzz's cruiser. 

"A psychic." 

"Really?" Shawn turns his focus onto you after briefly listening to your skeptical statement. 

"Yeah, wanna know why?" You push yourself out of the ambulance, slowly removing the blanket. 

"Boy do I," he jokes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

"I see a grave in your future." You toss the blanket into your, now unoccupied seat. 

"What?" He stops bouncing. 

"Because I'm gonna kill you," you add, sounding completely serious which scares him. 

Shawn's eyes widen when he sees your hand about to grab his shirt, he starts screaming and runs away. 

"Get back here Shawn," you chase after him, a few feet behind him, as he zig zag’s through the cop cars surrounding the area. 

"No," he yells, looking over his shoulder to see you right behind him. He turns back around to make sure he doesn’t run into anyone. 

A familiar blue car belonging to a certain pharmaceutical rep pulls up and steps out of the car. 

"Gus. Gus. Buddy, you gotta help me." 

Gus furrows his brow before he sees you chasing his best friend. He pops his lip and shakes his head. He already knew how upset you’d be with Shawn when he called Gus earlier that day. "No, Shawn, you brought this on yourself. I had nothing to do with this." 

"Please, buddy. Mr. Silly pants, help me." He says, his voice sounding wheezy with the last few words as he hunches over, placing his hands on his knees.

"You can ask people for help, but they won't help you," you shout, crouching behind the car in front of the two. 

"You don't know that." Shawn starts running again. 

"Yes, I do because I'm one of those people." 

"Yeah, well doesn't mean I can't-" He starts screaming when you launch yourself onto his back. 

"Would you shut up already? It's like listening to a-" Carlton complains, stopping when you bump into him. He turns around to find you on Shawn’s back. 

"Sorry, Carlton but I need to kill Shawn," you grunt when he starts spinning.

He steps in front of the two of you, "as much as I would to see that. We need to go back to the station so we can get your statement." 

"Yeah, sure. After-" 

Carlton interrupts, "no, you're going with O'Hara. O'Hara!" 

Jules walks away from Buzz's cruiser, "yes, Carlton?" 

"Take her to the station and don't forget to get her statement." 

"Okay," she turns away from him, looking at you, "are you ready? What’s going on here? You know what, actually, don’t answer that." 

You groan and hop off his back, looking Shawn in the eyes, “you better watch yourself.”

When you and Jules are a few feet away Shawn decides now is the best time to open his mouth and says, “no! You watch yourself, fruity pebbles.” 

You turn around, prepared to run back towards him. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Carlton stops in front of you, crossing his arms. 

You look over his shoulder. “Carl, let me get one good hit,” you glance back at your boyfriend. 

He gives you a pointed look. 

You pout, “fine. I won’t go after Shawn.” 

“That’s good to hear,” he takes a step closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You snuggle into him before placing your hands on his chest, “I’m gonna get your suit and badge wet.” 

He pulls you closer and rests his head on top of yours before briefly pulling away to peck you on your forehead. 

“If your badge is rusty or your babies aren’t working properly, don’t blame me.” 

“I could never blame you, if anything, I’ll blame Spencer.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

“Uh, if I may interject, that does not work well for me. In fact, I find it a little rude,” Shawn interrupts the touching moment between the two of you. 

“Even thought it was your fault,” Gus adds. 

“I don’t think that’s true.” 

“I wasn’t here, and I can tell that it was.” 

“Gus, you’re supposed to be on my side.” 

“Why would I be on the losing side?” 

“So, you only side with me when I’m right?” Gus looked away, ignoring the question as he walks away. 

“Gus… Buddy… Gus! Come on.” 

“As much as I find it cute that the two of you are together, I need to bring you down to the station and get your statement and talk to the chief about having an officer outside of your house,” Juliet says. 

Carlton sighs and pulls away from you, holding your hand, “be safe, alright?” He looks away from you to give Juliet a serious look, “keep her safe, don’t let her out of your sight.” 

“Of course, Carlton.” 

“I have a question,” Gus says, smacking Shawn’s hands away from him. 

The latter whines, holding his hand before glaring at his friend. 

“What’s that, Gus?” The female detective of the group asks. 

“Why is Shawn’s dad, here?” Gus points to where Henry’s coming from. 

The psychic detective smiles, “he’s clearly here for-” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“What-” 

“First, you follow the suspect with no backup. Then, when Gus says he’s busy, you go and find the next best person you can use as your chauffer and almost get her killed.” 

“He was very mean, Henry. He practically forced me to help him,” you add, hiding your smile when Henry looks over at you. 

“Yes, I know. He was antsy and impatient to wait for the police to do their job and took matters into his own hand while forcing you to join him along for the ride but,” he raises his finger at you. “Don’t pretend like you’re all innocent over there, missy.” 

“I didn’t do anything.” 

“You’re using your “I’m blaming Shawn, so I don’t get in trouble” voice. You’ve been doing it since all three of you,” he points to you, Shawn, and Gus. “Were kids and clearly, that’s not gonna change. Juliet, you don’t need to take her home. She can spend the night at my house and Gus can take Shawn to his place.” 

“Why does she get to go home with my daddio?” 

“Daddio?” Jules, Henry, and Gus repeats. 

“Why do I feel like you don’t want me at home?” The psychic detective asks. “Because, I’d have less to worry about with her and,” he leans closer to his son, whispering, “I like her more. Come on, sweetheart.” 

As you pass Shawn, you give him a “I told you so” smirk. 

“Well, that was rude,” Shawn mumbles. - “I knew I liked you for a reason, Henry,” you tell him. 

He chuckles, “yeah, yeah. I have a blanket in the truck for you.” 

You sigh out in relief, “thank you. This is already becoming a much better evening.” 

“Hang on,” Juliet calls out. 

“I know, I have to go down to the station to give my statement but, can I give it to you after I take a shower and change out of my wet clothes. I think we all would prefer if I wasn’t sick. Think about how Carlton would feel if I was at home… sick… with no one to nurse me back to health.” 

The detective purses her lips, “I think we both know he would drop all of his cases so; he could take care of you.” 

“True but, if he gets sick and has to miss even more work…” 

“Alright, fine. You know, you didn’t have to say anything. I came over to tell you to change and get out of your wet clothes before coming down to the station.” 

“Oh. Well then, we’re in agreement.” 

“You’ve been with Shawn for way too long.” 

“I have. He’s starting to rub off on me,” you shiver in fake disgust. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Thanks Jules, for everything tonight.” 

“Just doing my job.” 

“You do it well.” - You turn around and make your way to Henry’s truck, both of you jump when you see there’s someone inside. “Shawn, get out or scoot over,” you order. 

“No.” 

“Shawn,” Henry adds. 

The psychic groans, “fine.” 

You hop in, “give me the blanket.” 

“No.” 

“Give it to me.” 

“No. I’m feeling a little chill.” 

“I was the one who was thrown into the ocean. Give me the blanket.” 

The two of you start tugging on the blanket. 

“You two, cut it out.” 

“Sorry,” you both apologize. 

“I need it,” you whisper, yanking on the item. 

“No.” 

You punch him in the arm and take it when he rubs his arm. “Suck it.” 

“You suck it,” Shawn says, in his normal childish way. 

“You suck it.” You put your phone next to your face so, you and Gus can sing, “suck it.”

“How dare you use my best friend against me.” 

You shrug, “it was easy.”

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Masterlist

Summary: An april fools prank ends up with phobias, teasing and Sy bringing his brat to hand.

Warnings: Swearing, Implied smut

You giggled as you moved intot the bathroom before sy and climbed onto the bath beside the seperte shower.

This was the oldest trick in the book and you doubt this would work with the big alert captain but it was worth it.

Today was april fools day and you had agonised over what little prank to play on the man.

You toyed with the idea of over complicated tricks and set ups but he could sniff out an ambush- i mean that was his job right?

So you settled for the old rubber spider on a string trick.

You grunted tying the thin sting to the top of the shower head giggleing to yourself.

This was going to be fun, you were a genius if you said so yourself!

You'd purchased some industrial weed killer for the drive and Sy being the big man had batted you away from the strong chemical and mixed it in the little auto sprayer himself.

His excuse was tpyou couldnt be near the harsh chemicals when you were both trying for a kid.

You were finding it hard to conceive, so Sy was being extra careful with this suff, and you didnt mind you got out of weeding!

But the thing was, sy was a messy shit and you knew 99.9% he was gonna spill some on himself during the task... and then come and have a quick shower.

You secured the spider in place, letting it teeter on the edge of the shower head.

He never checks the height of the shower head beforehand, he simply pulls the cord to start it up and climbs in, then bitches and pulls the shower head up over his head.

Which will then make the spider fall and land on him!

You hopped down and scuttled out of the room quickly as you heard sy enter the house.

There was a little sh7ffling and then the sound of the washing machine door closing

"Babe?! Babe? Where are ya?"

"Up here!" You called hearing him trudging up the stairs towards you.

"Well hello there~" he grinned leading on the door frame to the bedroom.

You glanced at him and froze as you saw him. Fuck me~

He had stripped down to his boxers and was flexing as hard as he could making hos muscles bulge deliciously

"H-hi oh god Sy what are you doing?! Where are your clothes? Please tell me to didnt give mrs burton a peep show again, she complained to the hoa last time!"

"No no this is all for you munchkin~, i chucked my clothes innthe wash and shoes are in the back in a bucket to get that shit off em'" he said quickly, standing straighter poseing with enough big dick energy to sustain a fucking continent.

Speaking of big dicks, junior was definitely at half mast! Tenting his boxers pulling them up his glorious fuzzy thighs.

"Im gonna go wash up join me in about five mineuts?" He finally offered grinning at you as your focus was still on the twitching cock between his thighs.

You flushed biting your lip as much as you'd love to join him you knew he wont be in there long~

Nevertheless you nodded coyly at him making him smirk and grunt winking at you before moving to the bathroom.

You darted to the door and peered around holding your breath.

You listened hearing the hiss of the shower and the humming of a man who was expecting a shower with happy endings.

Then you heard it. Something between a yip roar and girlish scream then heavy stomping and a loud thump

You burst out laughing but it quickpy faded as the room was quiet.

Shit. A wave of panick hit you, he'd dived out of the shower- wet! He could have fell!

With that terrifying thought you lunged down the hall throw yourself at the door fingers trembling grasping the handle.

Finally you managed to ppen the door and all but tore it off its hinges.

You'd expected to find sy on the floor head cracked wide open pissing blood!

But thankfully no... instead he was standing there starkers leaning on the wall trying to catch his breath.

One hand on his chest the other holding the plastic spider.

"The FUCK?! YOU TRYNA' KILL ME WOMAN?!" You couldnt help laughing at the way his voice cracked.

"Oh god sy! I thought you'd had an accident!" Youlaughed relaxing now ou knew he was okay.

"I nearly did! Fucking hell babe! The hell?" He huffed throwing the spider to the floor woth a wet slap.

Uh oh. Here comes the tantrum- you swear he really was a man child.

"Sorry, it was april fools... i didnt know you were scared of spiders" you added still giggling trying to stop it, but you just couldn't this was to funny.

"Im not" your huge 'alpha' man pouted crossing his arms over his chest puffing his chest out growling

"Your girlish scream would say otherwise" you laughed to yourself tilting your head now teasing.

"I just don'like 'em" he said his eyetwitching and face tinting pink.

"Mm hmm dont worry captain me and my trusty glass will make sure the big bad spiders leave you alone~" you quipped grinning like a cheshire cat. Some people would find your teasing mean but what was a relationship without a little ball busting every now and then.

And no not that kind of ball busting either, though the adrenaline from being scared half to death had somehow rushed to his cock that now stood proudly from the thick thatch of curls.

"Babe im not frightened of spiders its just- the ones in iraq fucked me up, you ever see a camal spider? That shits not fucking natural!" He hissed growing more irritated.

The poor baby was embarrassed~

"Oh come now sy everyone has fears its nothing to be ashamed of" you said trying to calm him down seeing he was still wound up.

"I'm serious- babe I'm not scared of a fucking insect!" He sneered eyeing the spider on the floor.

" of course baby~ I belive you" you agreed trying to placate him once and for all.

But you couldnt help the fact an angry naked sy was jnfrom of you, his huge cock locked and loaded.

You battedyour lashes at him and giggled at him again, pokeing the bear so to speak.

He tilted his head and froze for a moment before curling his lip up at you and took a step forward.

"Really? Your fucking unbeliveable! Smirking like a little brat! Winding me up for rough sex?!"

"I'd never do that my love~" you purred out at him lickingnyour lips eyeing his leaking cock that bobbed about desperately seeoing a wet cunt to fill~

"You know what come 'ere no! Dont you fucking back up brat! Get your ass here!" He snarled as you suddenly bolted pushing yourself off the door frame to give yourself a boost.

"Oi! You fucking brat dont you tease and run! I'll fucking catch ya!" He yelled runnin behinde you giving chase as fast as he could without pulling his cock painfully.

You squealed running down the hall hearing sy's thundering foot steps behinde you. Feeling his hands swiping out at you trying to catch you.

"Im'ma get ya! And fuck the brat right outta ya! Ya hear me?!" He yelled as he hunted you down.

You giggled jumping the steps three at a time, and screamed as he caught you mid flight and sat back on the top step pawign at your clothes as he dragged you onto his lap poising you above his hard cock.

"Lets go for a ride babe~ you can apologise for being such a brat by bouncing like a good girl~" he huffed down your back hands tearing away your clothes with harsh tugs on your leggings.

"I'm not apologising for shit captain" you snipped back at him playing your role as brat well.

"We shall see about that~cos im not gonna fuck your sopping cunt~" he growled pulling you back with a grunt pressing his cock against your ass teasingly.

"Think I'll treat myself today and leave you wanting~" ou froze and whined blinking up at him pleadjngly.

It wasnt that you didnt like anal, you did but... nothing beat Sy fucking your needy cunt.

"Ready babe?~" he breathed in your ear wrapping a hand around your throat making you gulp and whine as he began rolling his hips making it clear you were going to be left wanting and stuffed full all at once.

[lia-jones]

Resistance - Evol: Chapter 23 - Owen

Author's note: To @ashisbored, who gave me the brilliant idea of writing an Owen-focused chapter. I hope I did it justice. Lots of love to you, my dear.

Also, dear readers, if you haven't read chapter 22 yet, scroll down. This is the second chapter of the week.

Of all the days of the week, Saturday was definitely Owen's favorite. There was always something fun to do on Saturday, and Mom and Dad were always at home, their phones and laptops off and put aside.

When he didn’t have soccer matches, which were always exciting because he got to see his friends and Dad would always take him for ice cream after, he and his family would go to the market and find something tasty to cook for lunch. But there was something that he absolutely loved, that didn’t happen on a Saturday. It made him jump with joy as he put all his ‌schoolbooks into his backpack. The weekly chess game.

“I’m coming.” He ran to the living room, finding his father watching an old movie while holding a glass of whiskey. “I’m here.” He panted, smiling.

“Are you done with homework?” His father looked for the remote, turning off the TV.

“Yes.” He nodded enthusiastically. “I only had an assignment from Mrs. Burton. The rest I did at the hotel.”

“Let’s go then.” His father carefully removed the chess game from the cabinet, careful not to drop the pieces. “I believe yours were the whites?”

“Yes, and it was your turn to play.” Owen sat across from his father at the dining table, the chess game between them.

“If I recall correctly, I was about to get your horse.” His father teased, holding a piece in his hand.

“But you can’t, or I’ll get your bishop.”

“Well done.” His dad smiled. “You are becoming a very interesting adversary.”

“Yeah, Mom’s not really good at it.” They both chuckled.

This was what Owen loved about the chess games. He felt like a true gentleman, just like his father, playing a game of intelligence and strategy as they bantered and teased each other. He felt like the man he wanted to become, all that he could see in the adult in front of him: smart, elegant, strong.

His father paused again, lost in thought. But it was probably not about the game, his eyes weren’t fixed on the board as usual. He was sipping his whiskey again.

“By the way, how is she?”

“Mom?”

Dad cleared his throat, moving his piece to defeat his horse. Owen’s eyes focused on the board again, trying to figure out his father’s plan.

“And your bishop is gone.” Owen removed the black piece from the board.

“Is she doing well?”

“You don’t know?” Owen waited impatiently for his father’s next move. 

“She has been busy finishing her thesis. We have little time to talk.” 

“Yeah, she’s been staying up late working all week long.”

“How do you know?” His father frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed sleeping by that time?”

“I woke up thirsty one night.” He shrugged. “It’s your turn.”

Dad turned to the chessboard again, although he didn’t seem as interested anymore. He moved his tower. Owen smiled.

“I’m going to win.”

“What else?”

“What else? I’m getting your tower and putting your king in jeopardy.” Owen moved his tower. “Check.”

“What else about your mother? Is she just working, or is she doing something else?”

“I think she’s taking Krav Maga lessons again. I heard her talking to Levi on the phone.”

His father looked at his watch, drinking the rest of his whiskey.

“Maybe we should put the chess game aside for now and start dinner.” He took the chess board and returned it to its place in the cabinet.

“But I was winning!”

“Check is not a win. You don’t know what tricks I may have up my sleeve. I may still save my King.”

“You’re right.” Owen pouted. “Can we have pasta for dinner?”

“Macaroni and cheese with broccoli?” His father raised a brow.

“Yes!” He beamed. “Can I help?”

“Can you grate the cheese without hurting yourself?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Fair enough. I’ll have you as my sous-chef and evaluate your performance later.”

Owen loved cooking with his father. He had an apron just for him, and his father would always make an italian accent every time they cooked pizza or pasta. Mom would always joke and say he was a mustache away from being a Super Mario, which always made Owen laugh and his father blush, pinching her arm playfully.

And although it was fun to cook with his dad, his mom wasn’t there, so it wasn’t as fun.

“You sound like Super Mario!” Owen teased on his mother’s behalf.

But his father didn’t blush, and he didn’t tease him back. He pursed his lips, turning them into a sad smile.

“It’s better when Mom is around.” Owen pouted a little.

His father turned to the sink to wash the broccoli.

“You’ll see her again tomorrow.” He spoke after a long time.

Owen remembered the time Mina died, and his mother told him that maybe he should not bring it up for a while, because missing someone can hurt very much. So Owen dropped the subject, grating the cheese instead. It was clear Dad was missing Mom too.

“My name is Owen Lee and I live in Loveland. I have already lived in many houses. The first house I lived in was with my biological mother, who died when I was little. Then I moved to the orphanage with Miss Dillon, and she found another house for me, but the lady didn’t like me very much. So I went back to live with Miss Dillon again and the other kids until I found my forever family. So I moved to my Dad’s house in Loveland, a large apartment in a building that even has a caretaker, Mr. Andrews. He gives me candy sometimes. But now, my Mom has become really busy with work, so she needs another place where she can focus, so I have two places to live now. One is the hotel apartment where I live with my mother, and the second is my father’s apartment, where I used to live forever. The end.”

“Very good, Owen, good job.” Mrs. Burton patted his head. “Anyone have any ‌questions to ask Owen?”

“Are your parents divorced?” Jenny raised her hand.

“No, they’re not.” Owen explained. “It is only an experiment, because Mom has a lot of work to do and she needs to focus. It’s only temporary.”

“Is your father very loud?” Michael chimed in.

“No, I don’t think he is.”

“Then why can’t your mother work in the same house as your Dad?”

“Yeah, don’t your parents work at the same company?”

Owen froze, not knowing what to say. He didn’t fully understand the “experiment” his parents were in, he just knew what they had told him.

“Alright, children, maybe we should leave the questions for later and go to recess.” Mrs. Burton intervened. “Go get your snacks from Mr. Linton at the cafeteria and I’ll see you in 30 minutes.”

Owen sat by the cherry tree, absentmindedly turning his apple in his hands. His friends were waving at him from afar, but he didn’t feel in the mood to play soccer. Jenny sat next to him.

“It’s ok if your parents are having a divorce.” She looked at him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. My parents are divorced. Timothy’s parents are divorced too. And Gary’s mom is already married to another man.”

“My parents are not getting divorced.” Owen shook his head. “My mom wouldn’t lie to me. She would tell me if they were.”

“Ok.” Jenny shrugged.

“How is it like?” Owen eyed the girl sideways. What if she was right?

“Well, my mom explained that sometimes adults stop loving each other and they go live different lives. It’s kinda cool, actually. You get two Christmases, and you get a lot more presents. And they spend more time with you, when it’s just you and them.”

Owen let out a sigh of relief. No way Mom and Dad had stopped loving each other. He could see that they missed each other. If they missed each other, it could only mean that they still cared. And as he came to that conclusion, the subject simply slipped his mind.

Mom was the one picking him up from school that day. He almost missed her among the crowd of parents piling up at the school gate. Her curls were gone, and her hair was a little darker.

“Mom!” He threw himself into her arms.

“My little bug, I missed you so dang much!” She picked him up, throwing him in the air. “How was school? I want to know everything about it!”

“Your hair is straight!” He picked up a strand of her now light brown hair.

“Just trying something new.” She smiled. “How do I look?”

“You look beautiful!” He beamed at her. “Dad won’t recognize you when he sees you, you look so different!”

His mother gave him a soft smile, putting him on the ground.

“I thought we could walk home to the hotel today, maybe pick up some takeout on the way.” She took his hand as they started walking. “What do you feel like eating?”

“I had pasta yesterday with Dad. He made the Italian accent.”

“Nice.” His mother chuckled. “So no Italian food today. What else can we have?”

“Hot dogs?”

“Hot dogs are not very healthy, Owen. Can you think of something else you’d like?” She stopped. “Oh, hi, Levi.”

“Hey gorgeous!” Levi was suddenly standing next to them, pulling his mother for a hug. “And hi, little guy, how are you?”

Owen remembered Jenny’s words, and how she had told him Gary’s mom was married to another man now. And then he remembered how his father got the last time they ran into Levi. He immediately hated him.

“Fine.” He answered grumpily.

“Oh, is someone having a bad day?”

“I’m not sure…” Mom looked at him, frowning.

“Anyway, I hope to see you this week.” Levi shook Mom’s shoulder. “You slacked for a while. Your posture needs working on.”

“I’m not sure I can make it this week.” She tried to keep Owen steady as he pulled her arm.

“Is your husband working you hard? Gotta tell Victor you need some me time too.”

Oh, the audacity. Owen just wanted to kick him in the shin.

“I want to go home, Mom.”

“Just a second, Owen. We are on our way.”

“But I want to go NOW!” He screamed.

“Owen!”

“It’s ok, I should go too.” Levi pulled her for another hug. “I do hope to see you at the gym!”

Owen watched Levi leave with a sense of duty fulfilled. He would make sure that guy wouldn’t get near his Mom again.

“Are you ready to explain what happened just now?” His mother turned to him, looking slightly mad.

“I’m sorry I was rude.”

“You were very rude.” She scolded him. “But I’m more interested in why. That’s not like you at all.”

Owen looked downed, feeling ashamed. Yes, he had done the right thing by scaring the other man away, but still he had been impolite. His father would surely had done it differently, elegantly, without getting a scolding in return. He hadn’t been a gentleman at all. Mom walked with him in silence, crossing the park where Owen usually played soccer with Dad. She took him aside to sit on a park bench.

“Did you have a bad day at school? Did someone pick on you?”

“No.” He shook his head, afraid to ask the question.

“Come on, Bug.” Mom stroked his cheek. “Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”

“I don’t like staying at the hotel.” He finally confessed, his eyes glued to the ground.

“You don’t like it there? You’d rather stay somewhere else?”

“Why do we have to do an experiment?”

“I told you, Bug. I need a little while to be alone to think and to focus on my thesis.”

“Why can’t you do it at home? I promise I’ll be very quiet, and Dad will be quiet too. We can make the meals and do all the chores and you can just stay in your study and work.”

“Owen…”

“I just want to go home.”

His mother paused, making him look up. She looked sad.

“You want to stay with Dad?”

“No, I want to stay with you and Dad!” He grew frustrated. Why couldn’t she understand him? “I don’t want you to get a divorce.”

Mom blinked at him. 

“Where did you hear that?”

“Jenny says adults sometimes stop loving each other, and they go live in separate places. It’s called a divorce. And then we get two Christmases, and sometimes the mother marries another man.”

“I see.” She nodded. “So your reaction with Levi…”

“You’re not marrying him, are you?”

Mom laughed. That made Owen’s heart feel a lot lighter.

“Levi? God, no.”

“You’re not divorcing Dad, are you? Or make me have two Christmases.” He looked her in the eyes, trying to understand what she was feeling. “It’s nothing like that, right?”

She paused.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” She got up from the bench. “And you know what? I actually feel like having hotdogs. As long as we have some soup before.”

“Deal!” Owen jumped. “Can it be carrot soup?”

“Sure, we’ll stop by the grocery store…” She turned to her purse. “Wait, I’m getting a call.” She looked at the phone, slightly confused, answering it. “Victor?”

She listened silently while his father spoke on the other end of the line, her expression turning to a worried one as she looked at him.

“I’m sorry, buddy.” She gave him a sad smile. “It looks like we’re not having hot dogs after all.”

“How do you want to do this?” Dad held the cardboard box.

Owen held his mother’s hand.

“We make a hole in the ground and we bury him.” Owen said. “Did you bring some candles?”

“I did!” His mother took some small candles from her purse.

His father took the small gardening tool, digging a shallow hole and inserting the cardboard box in it.

“Do you want to cover it?” He turned to Owen.

“Yes.” Owen kneeled on the ground. “Mom, light the candles, please.”

He covered the box with dirt, and Mom lit two small candles, placing them next to Mr. Lobster's burial place.

“He lived a good life.” She smiled at Owen. “He was a happy lobster.”

“Do you want to say any last words?” Dad spoke as he wiped off the dirt of his hands.

“Yes.” Owen closed his eyes, feeling the solemness of the moment. “Mr. Lobster, when I first came home, you were my very best friend. You couldn’t say anything back, because lobsters can’t talk, but I know you listened. And while I was still getting to know Mom and Dad, you made me feel less alone. I don’t know if God has a heaven just for lobsters, but I hope He does. And if He does, I’m sure you are there. Thank you for being such a good friend, I will miss you.”

Owen heard a sniffle behind him. Mom and Dad were tearing up.

“It’s ok.” He smiled. “I’ll miss him, but he had a good life. And I’m pretty sure lobster heaven exists.”

Owen was sad, but he knew that most of all, it was important for him to be strong. He wanted his parents to be proud of him and not to worry. They looked so sad already, even before Mr. Lobster died. He wanted them to be happy.

“What do you feel like doing now, Bug?” Mom kissed his forehead. “Should we get home?”

“Can we still go for hot dogs?”

“Of course we can.” She smiled, offering her hand for Owen to take. “There’s a place on the way home. Go kiss Dad goodbye.”

“Can he come too?”

Another pause. Mom and Dad glanced at each other, using that silent language only they knew, and Owen couldn’t understand. After a while, Mom spoke.

“Sure he can.” She smiled. “Would you like to go with us for hot dogs?”

“It will be my treat, then.” He motioned them to follow him to his car. “I’ll drive. I know a place that has the best hotdogs in town.”

After a short five-minute drive, they were sitting by the lake, enjoying the hot dogs Dad had promised. And he was absolutely right: they were delicious.

“Now that’s something I never thought I would see.” Mom joked. “Victor Lee shoving down a hot dog.”

“This isn’t just any hot dog. This is the hot dog. Artisanal bread and sausages, exquisite relishing…”

“How come we never came before? They really are delicious.”

Owen observed his parents, the initial tension between them gone. It felt good, just like before.

“We always preferred to cook at home, together.”

“Which is how we got the lobster in the first place.” Mom laughed.

“What does cooking have to do with Mr. Lobster?” Owen asked, intrigued.

Again, Mom and Dad looked at each other, the silent communication between them.

“Well, you know some people eat lobster, right?” His father started. “Like some people keep fish as pets, and still we eat fish sometimes.”

“That’s because they are ignorants.” Owen countered. “They don’t know how cool lobsters can be, and how smart they are. Mr. Lobster always greeted us when we got home.”

“Yes, he did.” His father looked at his hotdog.

“But what does cooking have to do with Mr. Lobster?”

“Well. In all honesty…” His father hesitated.

“Back when we were dating, your father took me to this restaurant.” Mom chimed in. “And Mr. Lobster was inside a tank, waiting to be picked by a customer to be cooked. But I started looking at him, and felt sorry for the poor guy, so Dad bought the lobster, took him home and kept him as a pet, saving him from the pot. And that’s how we got Mr. Lobster.”

Owen’s heart swelled with pride.

“You saved him?!?” He smiled at Dad. Dad looked at Mom, a surprised look on his face.

“He did.” Mom nodded. “He knew I would be sad if Mr. Lobster died, so he saved him for me.”

“Dad’s a hero!”

“He did something pretty special, yeah.” 

“So did you.” His father replied.

Owen had no idea what they were talking about anymore, but it didn’t matter. They were smiling at each other, with that look in their eyes, and that was all that mattered.

Owen felt his eyes getting heavy on the way home, the motion and silent buzz of the car pulling him into relaxation. As his eyes were closing, he heard his mother talk.

“Poor little guy. This was a rough day for him.”

There was a beat of silence, and Owen almost drifted off, until he heard his father speak.

“Did you tell Diane?”

“No. Did you tell Goldman?”

“No, but he asked about you. Which was exactly what led me to think you didn’t tell his wife.”

“I thought maybe… At least until we know exactly what we want to do, maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone. You know, to avoid any gossip.”

“Until you know exactly what you want to do. I already know what I want.”

“Victor…”

“You put us in this position. You are the one who needs to figure things out.”

“Fine, sure, let’s disregard all the lying and all the secrets and just blame it all on me. I can take that.”

Another beat of silence.

“That’s not… I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, I don’t want to fight either. Not today.”

“I agree.”

“Your hair looks different. It looks good on you.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m actually the one who should thank you. For covering up for me.”

“In the end, it was a very nice gesture. It doesn’t matter how it started.”

Silence filled the car again.

“You’re still wearing it-” His father almost whispered.

“So are you.”

“Like I said, I know what I want.”

Even with his eyes closed, Owen couldn’t help but smile. His parents still loved each other. Mom hadn’t lied, it was just an experiment, and it probably wouldn’t last long. They wouldn’t get a divorce.

And that knowledge lifted the heavy weight from his heart. He just wanted to have one Christmas. One with his family together.

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: I promise this isn’t a Ricky x Reader. I promise I promise. Also holy fucking shit I am not a cheerleader at all and I know how horrible the cheer is in this, plz don’t bully me

Warnings: sexual assault and a horribly written cheer

Word Count: 3267

—————————————

Three: You Could Be

“So, you and Richard were a couple again after you returned to Brownsville?”

“No… no, we were not.”

“But you let him believe you were.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Have a good day at school, sweetheart!”

I don’t think there was an ounce of me that actually liked Ricky.

“You, too, Aunt Pam!”

And I definitely didn’t mean to string him along like I did.

“Love you!”

It’s just…

“Love you too!”

Sometimes I had to prove to myself that I was worthy when it was clear that Stan had no feelings for me. When I stepped out the next morning and saw that he’d already left his home, I knew he was planning to catch up with Sydney and give her a ride to school. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal to me, but it still tugged at my heart just a bit. A part of me was angered at the thought of Stan trying anything with Sydney, while the rest was rational. He wasn’t mine, I wasn’t his. I had someone who clearly wanted me, but I always pushed him away. Why didn’t I like Ricky when I should have? We were everyone’s favorite couple, we hardly ever fought, he’d take me out to dates regularly. Sure, he had his faults, but so did I. So, why did I not like Richard Berry?

The day I felt my anger towards Stan embed itself into my veins was the same day the idea of Ricky and I being a couple once more was sparked. It started in science class. It seemed Ricky had been waiting for me to get there, for he was early to class for once. So early that he and I were the only ones in the room. I casually strolled to my desk, setting my backpack on the ground beside my seat. Ricky watched me with a patient smile, drumming rhythmically on his desk he was leaning on. When I sat in my seat, he then rested his elbows against his desk, a glint in his eye as he watched me. “Good morning, (Y/N).”

“Morning, Ricky. You’re in class early.”

“Ah, because I know you’re always here early. And I wanted to talk to you.”

“You always want to talk to me.” I hummed, taking out my materials for class. When my fingernail scratched against the fabric of my backpack, I hissed in dissatisfaction and gently bit my nail, trying to keep my mind at ease. This was another one of my compulsions. Ricky’s eyes flicked from my finger then back to my face, as if he’d just remembered what was wrong with me.

“Because I love talking with you, babe.” He grinned, taking a seat at his desk. I rolled my eyes and began to scold him, but he cut me off. “I know, I know. You don’t like it when I call you that. It’s just… I’m still getting used to it.”

“You’re still getting used to not calling me babe even after half a year since our break-up.” I deadpanned. Ricky moved his eyes all around, as if he was about to answer an obvious question.

“Yes? What did you expect, (Y/N)? For me to get over you so quick? Do you want me to say it? Do you honestly want me to say it?”

“Say what, Ricky?”

“I’m in love with you!”

“Still?” My eyes widened as I stared back at him in shock. He frantically nodded his head and I tried to formulate a sentence in my mind, but our classmates had begun filing in. As if I hadn’t just been confessed to, I turned forward in my seat, training my eyes on my notebook. I heard Dina greet me on the way to her seat, but I only gave a small smile. Ricky seemed to have understood my unresponsive behavior, for he turned forward as well.

Ten minutes. That’s how long Ricky waited to start talking to me again. Mr File was so invested in his lecture that he didn’t notice him turn in his seat towards me. “Are you planning on going to the pep rally?”

“Not really,” I sighed, scribbling notes into my book. “They’re not really my thing.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you were there.”

“I bet you would.”

He let out a sigh, almost of defeat, before his eyes moved towards the front of the class. “Dina will be there. I’m sure she’d like it if you were with her.”

Dina was going to the pep rally? Since when has she ever gone to pep rallies? My head lifted, a questioning look on my face. “Wait, what? Dina’s actually going?”

“Yeah, with Brad. And she’s… going to the game, too.”

Dropping my pen, I clenched my jaw. “You aren’t seriously asking-”

“I swear, you won’t regret it. It’ll be fun. And I need my number one cheerleader with me at my big game.”

Yeah, right. Ricky wouldn’t have noticed if I’d been in the stands, cheering him on like his lovesick puppy, or if I walked away the moment he turned around and showed back up at the end of the game. Or would he? Did he look for me in the stands? When they scored a touchdown, did he snap his head in my direction, eyes lighting up and hoping to see mine shine with pride? Like something out of the movies…

“Okay, fine.” I answered without even thinking. Shit. I could practically see the hearts in his eyes.

“You’re the best.” He grinned. Once we both turned our attention back to our teacher, everything settled in for me. Here I am, yet again, allowing myself into dangerous territory. Ricky was not good for me, he wasn’t good for me, he wasn’t good for me. But it was that stupid awestruck look on his face that pulled me in. It wasn’t his carefree attitude, his iconic fashion sense, or the way he danced barefoot in the middle of the street for anyone to see. Because that wasn’t him, and I liked all those things about Stan. But Stan didn’t look at me the way Ricky did, and I guess that was enough for me to seek attention from him.

I felt tapping on my shoulder and looked over to see Sydney, her arm stretched out towards me. She was holding a sloppily folded piece of paper. Smiling at her, I gently took the note and turned forward.

You look like you absolutely want to die

Grinning, I looked Stan’s way, only to find his eyes already trained downward, focused on his notes. Although, I also noticed that he kept glancing over at me from the corner of his eye. Rolling my head onto my shoulder, I scribbled my response, I do, before handing the note back to Sydney. I think the stars above loved me that day, because I had no more classes with Ricky for the remainder of the school day. It was much easier to slip through the crowd of students when he wasn’t on my back all the time.

When it came to lunch, I had two options: Dina and Sydney or Brad and Ricky. I only chose the latter when I couldn’t find Dina. Luckily, that day, she’d been sitting at a table with Sydney, the two immersed in a conversation. Dina was wildly gesturing with her hands as Sydney seemed to provide words every now and then with a small shrug. Striding over to their table, I set my tray of food down beside Sydney. “Mind if I crash your date?”

“We don’t mind.” Dina giggled as I took my seat. As I dug into my sandwich, I could feel eyes on me. My head lifted to meet Dina’s amused expression. “So, (Y/N), are you going to the game?”

Scoffing, I set my food down. “Yeah, but not because I want to…”

“Then why are you going?”

“For… Ricky, I guess.”

“For Ricky.” Her brows rose in shock, but it was obvious she knew what my answer would be. I was only half lying. Ricky was only a fraction of the reason I was going, Dina was the rest. Though, something was telling me that there was more to me attending this game than I thought. Maybe it was the mischievous look in Dina’s eyes, or maybe it was the jocks from Brad’s table glancing over at me and chuckling in amusement. As if the whole school knew of some big secret that involved me.

Dina offered to drive me to the game. It was honestly still very new, hanging out with her. She didn’t smoke and talk about the future as our doom, or sit in the dark and watch every Tim Burton film to ever touch humanity. We just… talked. Like, girl-talked. We sat in her room two hours before the game started, talking about clothes and shoes and Brad and Ricky. You know, girl shit.

“I think it’s cute that you’re going to the game for him.” She remarked as she touched up her face with some blush. Rolling my eyes, I flopped onto her bed.

“I wasn’t gonna go until he mentioned you…”

“Yeah, right. You can just admit that you still like him, (Y/N).”

“Oh, my god, Dina,” I exasperatedly sighed. “I do not like Ricky. I thought I made that clear last year.”

Dina turned to me before flopping onto her bed as well. “Oh, come on… He really likes you, (Y/N)... Like, you’re almost all he talks about.”

“Definitely not creepy-”

“Just give him another chance,” She pouted. “If it doesn’t work out, then I’ll make sure he never talks to you again, okay?”

“No one in this universe can keep Richard Berry from talking to me,” I lightly laughed, but stopped when her face fell into a deadpan. “Okay, fine… I’ll give him another shot…”

-------------------------------------------------

So, that night, I learned that Dina was a fucking traitor. I don’t necessarily mean that, but I was still taken aback by what she was a part of. The two of us had gotten the chance to watch the game from the sidelines, next to the cheerleaders. It gave Dina the perfect view of her boyfriend, and Ricky the perfect view of me. I swore he nearly snapped his neck in two trying to look over at me any chance he got. Whenever we’d lock eyes, I would simply wave politely. Head in the game, Richard, I thought.

I knew Dina wasn’t crazy about football, so I found it odd how her leg bounced rapidly as she watched our team head straight for a touchdown. As the crowd erupted in screams and the cheerleaders stood from the bench, Dina grinned over at me as if I should care. That’s when I heard the cheer.

“Give me a Z!”

“Z!”

“Give me an I!”

“I!”

“Give me a P!”

“P!”

“What’s that spell?!”

Wait.

“ZIP!”

The cheerleaders skipped over to me, Dina helping me stand to my feet. I felt a pit form in my stomach when they stood before me in formation, ten of the football players standing behind them. My eyes widened as the girls in front of me began their dance and cheer.

“Ready! Okay! Homecoming’s approaching near, and there’s something you need to hear! Ricky here is all alone, he needs someone to call his own! There is just one girl in town, who fits the bill and wears the crown!”

That had to have been the worst cheer I’d ever heard. My eyes searched the field for any clues as to what the hell was happening, my head swimming as the football players each began holding up a card with a letter on it. Spelling out “homecoming”.

“Ricky is your Mister Right, we promise you he’ll make your night! Z! I! P!”

My heart dropped as I watched Ricky walk in front of the girls, wearing a nervous smile. “Will you go to homecoming with me?”

Fuck. No.

“Uh… Yeah.” I blinked, the entirety of the field and stands bursting in cheers. Dina clapped from behind me before pushing me closer to Ricky. He had a smile so big, I thought his face would split. Without a warning, he enveloped me in a hug, nearly lifting me off the ground. Eyes wide, I could only wrap my arms around him in hopes I didn’t fall over. His teammates were patting him on the back in congratulations, including Brad.

“Yes! The power couple is back!” Brad gently shook his friend’s shoulder. Ricky chuckled at his behavior, his eyes never leaving me, even as he set me back down.

“I promise, I’ll make your night, Zip.”

“Yeah… That’s what they said…” I tried a smile, but it fell almost instantly. I laughed a bit to play it off as being nervous. Hell, I was nervous. I was embarrassed! I can’t believe I hadn’t seen that coming, even Dina was acting off! Guiding me back to the bench, Ricky placed a soft kiss on the top of my head before heading back onto the field. I plopped down beside the beaming Dina, the girl vibrating in excitement.

“Oh, my god, (Y/N)! That was so cute!”

“Did you know?” My head snapped over to her. She nodded and gently shook my arm.

“Yes, I helped come up with the idea!”

Someone kill me. Please. Zeus, strike me down with all your might, I’m ready to leave this cruel existence behind me. That’s all I could think as the game resumed as normal. I tried not to make it obvious that I was completely repulsed with the idea of spending a night by Ricky’s side. I only rested my head in my hand as if I were watching the game, consumed with boredom. In reality, my mind was racing with every possibility of homecoming night. I could always ditch him? No, that’s rude as hell. But I didn’t even want to go with him! But they worked so hard on that cheer. Well, not really, anyone could have written that piece-of-shit-cheer-

My thoughts were interrupted when Dina stood and rushed towards the sidelines. I watched as Ricky ran onto the field to assist Brad, who had just been tackled too roughly. I hadn’t seen exactly what happened, but I guess he rolled his ankle really bad or something. As the coaches helped him up, he let out a curse. Once he was on his feet, well actually his foot, everyone began calling out to him in praise. And like the mindless drone I was, I lazily cheered for him, too.

After the game, Brad and Ricky treated Dina and I to a double date at some diner. I think I remember Dina mentioning that Sydney’s mom worked there. It was cozy and quiet, not many customers due to how late it was. I should’ve been relaxed, but when Ricky had his arm around me and tucked me into his side… I couldn’t help the feeling of bile in my throat. This wasn’t good. I shouldn’t be like this with him.

“Look at that,” Brad motioned towards the two of us, mouth full of fries. “America’s Power Couple. Back together again.”

“Yeah… good to be back…” Ricky happily smiled, squeezing me closer into his side.

-------------------------------------------------

“Ricky, are you gonna tell me what a covalent bond is or not?” I sighed as my boyfriend planted countless kisses across my jaw. I should’ve known he wouldn’t study if I came over. “Ricky, we need to study.”

“But you’re so smart, babe,” He chuckled. “You’ll be fine.”

“I’m not worried about me.” I sighed as he moved his mouth to my neck. My body instinctively flinched away, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy sliding my chemistry textbook from my hands and carefully setting it on his floor beside our backpacks. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he gently laid us down on our sides so we faced each other. His dark brown eyes locked with my (e/c) ones, but his held a sort of fire.

“You wanna have sex?”

“U-Uh, what?” I stuttered. He shook his head the best he could with it being pressed against his bed. “Ricky, what?”

His hand slowly slid up my side and made its way under my shirt. I froze, whether in shock or panic, I wasn’t sure at the time. “Come on, babe… You know you want to…”

“I really don’t.” I firmly stated, pressing my palm against his chest to push him away, but he only grabbed me by the wrist, lifting my hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to my palm.

“Oh, but I think you do.” He rolled me onto my back. My heart rate increased as my voice rose.

“Ricky, seriously, stop!”

“You’re such a tease.”

“I’m not-”

The next thing I knew, his lips were latched onto mine, his tongue forcefully pushing its way into my mouth. I yelped and tried to shove him off of me, but Ricky was stronger than I was. I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes as his hand slid near my bra. My breathing was labored from my incoming panic attack, but that seemed to only encourage him. I did what my first thought told me and lifted my foot towards his groin and kicked him as hard as I could. He ripped himself away from me and gripped his wound, not prepared for the harsh push that would send him to the ground. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I hopped off of his bed and grabbed my textbook, shoving it into my backpack.

“What the hell, (Y/N)?” Ricky slowly got to his feet, face painted in bewilderment. I gave him no explanation as I rushed out of his room. I had no car, I was scared to call anyone, so I decided to walk the whole way home. Once I was at the end of his street, I could hear his voice call out to me. “Where are you going?! (Y/N), get back here! Babe!”

But I paid him no mind. My arms made their way around my torso as my legs led me all the way to my aunt’s home. Everyone was eating dinner when I stormed inside. “(Y/N), you’re home early- Sweetheart?” I heard Aunt Pam call, but I only responded with the slam of my bedroom door. My back pressed against the door as I slowly slid down to my rear, burying my face into my hands. Quiet sobs filled my bedroom not too long afterwards, Jacob and Pam both attempting to pry what was wrong from me, but I refused to even respond to them. I was too in my head, too trapped in that moment.

The next day at school, I kept my head down, squeezing between everyone to get to classes early, to hide out in the bathrooms, but it was no use. When Ricky wanted to see me, he was going to see me. Just when I thought I was safe, he hugged me from behind. I stiffened immediately. “You didn’t text back.” He whispered into my neck. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I croaked out,

“S-Sorry…”

“It’s okay… I was just worried about you,” He turned me in his arms to face him. “Don’t just leave like that again.”

“Y-Yeah, sorry…” My eyes trailed away to see Stan, watching our interaction intently from his locker. “I’m sorry.”

-------------------------------------------------

“Yeah… It’s good to be back…” I took the kiss to my cheek without protest.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @give-the-boy-a-hug

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Black Wedding [Chapter Two] Silver Tongue [Albert Wesker]

Aria didn't want to go home once she got into her car a little after seven this morning. She was too scared to be alone and far too tired to stay awake, cowering beneath her blankets in an empty home as she worried about being mauled to death in her sleep.

Even though none of the murders had occurred indoors, and despite Albert assuring her that she'd be fine nestled away in their home under lock and key, she was still too scared to go home. Aria didn't want to let her guard down, not when the murders occurred close to home. That sort of ignorance horrified her the most.

How could anyone sleep soundly knowing a person in the same community was dead? Murdered, no less.

Aria frowned and gripped the steering wheel.

Poor Mr. Webster.

Her heart went out to her.

His death shook her. Dr. Hersh called it at a quarter till five this morning, though he passed on before the EMTs arrived at his home on Wallace Street. His carotid artery had a puncture; his spine broken, causing him to bleed out in minutes during the alleged onslaught.

His wife passed years ago from leukemia, so Aria had to leave a voice message with his son, who lived in Washington, according to his address. In a soothing voice too unreal for a woman who just witnessed a horrific murder, Aria informed him to contact the Hospital Director once he heard it. Still, she doubted that Mr. Webster's son would get the message until much later, given the time zone.

An EMT that brought him in reported that a neighbor from across the street saw Mr. Webster get attacked by a black dog near the edge of the forest; several large chunks were missing from his upper body, unlike any canine attack Aria had ever heard of before. What was he doing near the woods in the middle of the night? And what drove the animal to attack him?

Perhaps the beast was starving. Why else would it eat him?

Aria shivered in fear.

She tore from the parking lot in her Audi and turned onto Mission Street, heading towards Central down to Ennerdale, where the police department sat; the prominent structure before 1969 was an art museum bought out by the RPD.

Aria transferred to Raccoon General in 1992 after its construction, coming from Stone Ville, a town northwest of the city, but she knew its history, despite how expansive Raccoon had grown during her time from home; the city continued to grow even now thanks to Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, and the company's investments.

Parking her car, she strode from the underground garage to the department's entrance, slowing her rushed pace once she entered the reception area to the right of the main hall.

She noticed a woman with dark hair that she had never seen before occupying the reception desk. As she approached, the woman glanced up from her computer in boredom.

“What can I help you with, ma'am?”

Aria cleared her throat. “I came to see Albert Wesker.”

The woman typed something into her computer and hummed, then tossed a laminated pass onto the counter; Aria hooked it onto the pocket of her scrub top.

“The S.T.A.R.S. office is up the stairs at the far end of the hall,” she explained in a dead tone. “Be sure to sign in before you go.”

Aria did as she instructed, then stormed down the hall, turning the corner near the entrance to the west office. As she neared the stairs, she came across Barry Burton at the vending machine, recognizing his hideous red vest.

“Isn't it too early for a break?”

Barry turned in shock, staring at her. Once he recognized who Aira was, he narrowed his eyes.

“I'm surprised that Wesker let you off the leash today,” he teased.

Aria snorted and rolled her eyes. Barry was uneasy about her marriage to Albert, mainly because she married him a year after meeting him. She hadn't even had a honeymoon yet, but that didn't matter; she loved Albert.

He was quiet and somewhat arrogant when prompted, but he never treated Aria like she was inferior to him. Albert kept her together.

Barry didn't understand. Not to mention he wanted to set her up with Chris – his good friend – despite the eleven-year age gap.

“Behave,” Aria teased. “I don't want to tell Kathy that you've been eating junk food when you're not supposed to.”

Barry grunted. “I said nothing.”

She thought so. Her older sister was a force to be reckoned with, and he knew it.

“What are you doing here, Aria?”

She frowned, recalling the events of this morning.

“I want to see Albert is all,” she explained.

Barry sighed, bending with a grunt to pick his candy bar up from the exit slot.

“You might want to wait,” he suggested. “Irons is up there bitching to him about something. He sent the entire unit out.”

Aria puckered a brow. “Is everything alright?”

It was none of her business, but she wondered if the meeting with Irons had anything to do with the murder on Wallace Street. But why involve the S.T.A.R.S. unit? The murders were not a product of antiterrorism or urban crime and were more suited towards the cases the Patrol Division officers oversaw.

Perhaps she was overthinking it.

“As far as I know,” Barry answered back.

Aria hoped so. She said her farewells, deciding to wait near the S.T.A.R.S office, but as she began to climb the stairs, she had an idea and peeked over the railing to call out to Barry down below.

“Do you think Kathy and the girls would like to visit the zoo Friday?”

Barry hummed. “I don't see why not. I'll ask them tonight.”

Aria thanked him and continued up the stairs to the second floor. She rested on the bench next to the office door and waited for Irons to leave.

Once he appeared, storming out into the hall as he uttered beneath his breath Aria stood and greeted him.

“It's good to see you again,” she mentioned with a fake smile.

Irons grinned, looking her over. “The pleasure is mine. How are things over at the hospital?”

“Fine,” she answered back.

He reached forward and gently touched her shoulder. “Ethan called me already. I heard about the man who died this morning, but I don't want you to fret, Aria. I'll take care of it.”

“I appreciate that, sir. Thank you,” she stated.

Albert must have known as well.

Easing over, Aria grabbed the knob and opened the office door.

“Try and get some sleep, Aria. You look tired,” Irons mentioned.

She nodded and slid inside, closing the door behind her.

His kindness was innocent, but at times it freaked her out.

Aria sighed and strolled further into the room. Albert had his own office immediately to the left after coming into the primary office; she entered once she knocked on the door.

He puckered a brow.

“Aria, what are you doing here?”

He seemed to be in an irritated mood.

“I came to see you,” she answered back. “But I can leave if it's not a good time.”

Aria was referring to what Barry had said; about Irons grilling him.

Albert motioned her in; she looked desperate.

Aria shut the door behind her and strutted towards the desk, coming around the side of it.

“I guess you heard,” she mentioned. “Mr. Webster – the widower on Wallace Street – was brought in this morning.”

Albert hummed. “Brad mentioned that it was an animal attack.”

“Another one near our street,” Aria confirmed.

He puckered a brow, watching as she sat on the desktop. Her tired eyes stared down at him; Albert understood.

“Are you too scared to go home alone?”

She frowned. “I hate how you said that.”

Like she could do nothing without him.

Aria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had a terrible headache brewing.

“That wasn't fair,” she mentioned. “I'm just tired; forgive me.”

Albert opened his desk drawer and tossed her a bottle of Diphenhydramine.

“These will put me in a coma,” Aria joked.

He hummed. “Whatever makes you sleep easier.”

“You being home will make me sleep,” she countered.

That reminded her.

“Are you working this weekend?”

Albert nodded and stood up. “Something came up.”

Of course, something came up.

“But I'm home Sunday,” he added. “And we can catch up.”

Aria grinned. At least she had one day alone with him.

“Please tell me what you want for Sunday, and I'll cook for you,” she offered.

Albert grinned and motioned towards his seat. “I'll think of something. In the meantime, rest your eyes. I'll wake you before I leave.”

Her face heated up. “Thank you.”

How did he take her mind from one place to the next? It amazed her.

Aria hopped from the desk and embraced him. Her cheek rested against his chest.

“I'd be a mess without you,” she said with a laugh.

Albert snorted and buried his fingers into her coarse blond hair, aware that she wasn't joking.

Aria was a feeble pet, after all.

[starsscarmyceiling]

Hold up what’s this now?? OMFG not only is it an actual update, but we have another POVVVV, hey!!! BUT, WHAT??? It’s not a Ben POV! Go and read the new chapter (chapter 27), and find out who it is!!! 😏 😏 😏

If there was one thing her mother reminded her of way too many times ever since she got this job is that she didn’t pull herself out of the depths of Van Nuys for this shit.

She knew that being a paralegal was going to be more or less ‘bitch work,’ but she didn’t think that it would also involve being degraded on a daily basis.

Her boss, Benjamin Solo, for lack of a better term, is the biggest asshole in all of Los Angeles.

When Daniella first got this interview at this astounding law firm after graduating from college, she didn’t even care that there must have been a catch. Between a lack of funds and studying for the LSAT, she was desperate for any job, let alone one with such amazing connections and a possible future position after graduating from law school. Whatever endeavors she would have to undergo, she would do it.

She was now standing in the elevator, willing for it to somehow go faster. And certainly, her phone must have been wrong. It was 8:58.

Fuck she was almost late. There was no way this was happening. Traffic on the 10 was atrocious because there were several people clearly wanting to make her life a living hell by getting into car accidents. She tapped her foot impatiently.

“Come onnn,” she insisted to the elevator, “I don’t have time for this shit.”

Daniella was carrying hers, Marisol’s, and Mr. Solo’s coffee in a cardboard carrier. It was kind of ridiculous that she and the baristas had an inside joke about his coffee having to be the exact right temperature. They always tried to accommodate his stupid, over the top order as best they could; they were truly miracle workers.

Was this the longest elevator of all time? Ben always expected his coffee at nine o’clock on the dot. And if he didn’t? Well, at this point she didn’t want to know. Up until this point, Daniella had never been late before.

The doors rang and she let out a breath she’d been holding. Daniella sprinted into the lobby where Marisol was at the front desk.

“You betta hurry up girl!” Marisol shouted after Daniella practically threw her coffee at her.

“Shut uuuup!” Daniella shouted back.

By the time she was rounding the corner to Mr. Solo’s office, she felt like she was nearly going to pass out. She was trying not to wheeze everywhere as she tried to catch her breath and not completely crowd into her boss’ office.

“Here’s your coffee Mr—”

“I thought,” Mr. Solo’s deep voice interrupted, “you wanted to be a professional Miss Guerrero.”

Her eyes jumped to his clock on the wall. It was 9:01. Fuck.

“I do—of course I do.” She defended, placing his coffee gently on his desk.

“Then I expect,” he said, picking up the cup, “you to be on time.”

“I,” she started, her heart sinking, “I’m sorry Mr. Solo. Traffic was awful—”

“We all have to deal with traffic Daniella. This is Los Angeles after all.”

Daniella gave herself a moment to breathe in and out. Ben had barely even bothered to look up at her anyway.

But before she could say anything, he continued, “I need you to understand how important punctuality is. Now it may be one minute, but next it will be five, and then it will be fifteen.”

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Mr. Solo began drinking his coffee, and from the grimace on his face, it was probably two degrees too cold or something stupidly high maintenance like that.

“I can heat it up if you want.” She offered.

“It’s fine.” He said curtly.

“Okay,” she responded before exhaling, feeling like her heart was now in her shoes, “I promise it won’t happen again Mr. Solo.”

“See that it doesn’t,” he concluded. She nodded at him and turned to leave.

“Make sure you finish looking over that Burton deposition.” Mr. Solo said behind her.

Daniella briefly turned back and nodded again, “I’ll have it to you at the end of the day.”

“It will have to be sooner than that,” he admitted, “we just picked up two more cases.”

Now her heart sank all the way down to the first floor. Daniella was going to ask if she could leave early today, and for her, leaving early was actually leaving on time when everyone else did. There was no way she was going to be able to do that now.

“Of course Mr. Solo,” she said, “I will get started on those right away.”

All he did in response was make some sort of grunting noise. She thought she at least deserved the respect of at least a full word, but she wasn’t going to complain about getting out of his office as soon as possible.

When she finally crossed into her own office that she shared with the other paralegals at the firm, she was thankful to find it was empty.

Now she had to call her brother Luis, who hopefully was up to go to class now. It was their abuela’s birthday, and she was definitely going to be late.

Daniella closed the door and pulled out her phone. The phone rang a few times before he picked up.

“Why the fuck are you calling me so early?” Her brother’s voice lamented on the other end.

“Good morning to you too,” she greeted, “don’t you have to be up for class anyway?”

Luis grunted, “Yes, but that wasn’t for another ten minutes.”

“So sorry princesa.”

Daniella supposed that she could have waited until later in the day to call him, but she felt like she needed to hear a friendly voice, even if it was her cranky younger brother.

“What do you want?” He asked.

She sighed, hoping this wouldn’t be too much of a blow, “I need you to tell mom I’m going to be late today.”

He was in the middle of a yawn that turned into another grunt, “Are you serious Dani? You can’t be late! Mom will kill you!”

“I know, I know, but we just picked up two other cases—”

“Don’t tell me that this has to do with fucking Ass Hole, Esquire here.”

Even at the mention of the little nickname that she, Luis, Marisol, practically everyone called him, Daniella checked out of the blinds of her office just to make sure he wouldn’t catch her making a personal call.

“Yes, Asshole at Law has struck again.” She alleged sardonically.

Luis sighed heavily, “Look I know that guy rides you, but you cannot be late to abuelita’s birthday! You already missed Sophie’s entire birthday last month.”

Missing their little sister’s birthday was something she was never, ever going to live down, and Daniella will never forget the look on Sophia’s face when she showed up after the cake was already gone.

“I know okay—”

“I think you need to stand up for yourself alright. You can’t just let him treat you like you don’t matter—”

“I know Luis! You really don’t have to remind me, okay?! I already got my ass chewed out for being one minute late with coffee that was two degrees cold so I don’t need it from you too!”

It was a few moments before Luis responded.

“Damn, this gingo’s really got you wildin’ don’t he?”

“Luis, don’t do this. You know what this job means to me.”

“No, but really Dani! This guy has got you running around Los Angeles like some kind of lowly errand girl as if you don’t even have a college degree at all.” Luis argued.

“What do you want me to do about it huh? Quit?”

“Well, yeah.”

Daniella sighed, collapsing into her chair, “You know I can’t do that. The connections here alone—”

“Yes, yes I’ve heard it a million times.”

Neither of them said anything for a couple of seconds and Daniella felt like crawling under her desk for the rest of the day.

“You know it’s just because we all want better for you Dani.” Luis offered.

“I know,” Daniella sighed, “I know.”

“I’m sorry…I do know how much this job means to you.”

Daniella started picking at a hangnail in this low moment, but she couldn’t deny how validating it felt to hear Luis say something like that, “Thank you.”

Luis sighed, “Alright, look. I gotta get ready for class, but don’t worry about mom.”

If Luis were in this room right now for some reason, she would crush him with a hug, “Thank you so much Luis. I really owe you one.”

“Yeah you do,” he agreed, “ma’s gonna kick my ass just for telling her.”

“And that’s why I love youuuu!”

She would make it up to her grandma. She’d go over to her house this weekend or something.

“Alright, alright. Love you too pendeja.”

They exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Daniella then booted up her computer and felt like maybe she could face the rest of this day.

And the rest of it went by in a blur as she frantically ate a protein bar at her desk instead of taking her lunch. To her complete shock after all of the emails and regular mail she had to get out, she finished only a little after five.

At this moment, she could be a pushover and just keep working, getting started on tomorrow’s work, or she could actually think of herself for once.

She was walking to Mr. Solo’s office in a stride before she could stop herself.

When she arrived at his open doorway, she knocked at the frame and hoped he was in a more forgiving disposition than he was this morning.

He was sitting at his desk, grasping at his phone in what looked like deep contemplation and didn’t appear to have noticed her presence, so she unfortunately had to clear her throat.

His eyes darted up to her, “What is it?”

“Um,” she began horribly and unprofessionally as she shifted her stance, “well Mr. Solo I was wondering since I finished all of my work for the day if I could leave a little earlier than usual…it’s my grandma’s birthday you see and—”

“Yes, fine.” He interrupted, his fierce gaze back on his screen.

Daniella wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it for certain wasn’t what she set out to achieve still for some reason. She blinked a couple of times before she could even comprehend that he just dismissed her like that so easily.

“Oh well, thank you Mr. Solo, I really appreciate it. I—will see you tomorrow…at nine o clock of course.” She rambled, internally cringing at herself.

All he did was grunt in some sort of confirmation, but she wasn’t going to question it and hightailed it out of there, ecstatic that she was able to call Luis with the news that she wasn’t going to be nearly as late as she thought she was going to be.

 ...

Daniella felt like she had been staring at her computer screen for hours. She checked the time, and it was well past time for dinner.

Of all days, she supposed today wasn’t so bad when compared to others. Mr. Solo didn’t seem like he was in that bad of a mood; she overheard him in the hallway tell another lawyer that she was doing satisfactory work, so she was going to take that as a compliment coming from him.

Most of the time, and this was kind of a trend over the last few weeks, it just seemed like he wanted to be left alone, which was absolutely fine with her.

Marisol and everyone else had already left the firm hours ago, and Daniella felt her stomach rumble. When was the last time she even ate? Did she even eat today? Normally she and Marisol ate together but she didn’t even have any memories of it. She pulled out her phone and saw that the receptionist had texted her and asked her if she wanted to go out for drinks with her. Daniella responded but she was ashamed that she was still at the office.

Marisol: Girl don’t tell me you’re still at the office. It’s Friday night!

Great. She’d already been caught.

Daniella: You know Ass Hole, Esq. loves to imprison me here.

Marisol: Maybe he has a thing for you.

Daniella felt herself practically gagging.

The sad part was, at the surface, Benjamin Solo was a pretty attractive man. If she ever saw him on the street, she would probably mistake him for a bodybuilder or something and never would think he would defend people in court for a living, but Daniella could never find the opportunity to really think about it too much because he was just such a horrible person to her.

Daniella: Omg you just made me gag. Don’t joke about that.

Marisol: Heyyy, a little office romance with the boss? Maybe that way he’d go easier on you.

Marisol: …or not

Daniella actually shivered at that, but not in a good way. Because of this job, she honestly didn’t have time to date and now she didn’t even remember the last time she got any action.

Was that sad? Yeah that was sad.

Daniella: I am never speaking to you again.

Marisol: Aw, don’t be like that!

Marisol: Okay look, I am going to check on you in couple of hours and if you’re STILL there, I am going to march my ass over there and drag you out to the bar, got it?

Daniella laughed at her friend’s sentiment. Thank god for Marisol because without her, Daniella would have lost her mind so long ago.

Daniella: Okay deal.

Marisol: Don’t let Mr. Solo ride you too hard!

Daniella: Would you stop??

She rolled her eyes and got back to the follow up emails she was sending to their clients. Daniella had come so close to quitting again yesterday when she’d been yelled at for using the wrong font.

When her stomach grumbled again in the next half an hour, she relented to her hunger and decided that they were going to have to order dinner.

That wasn’t an all too uncommon happenstance, and whenever she would ask Mr. Solo if he wanted anything, he often grunted that he had leftovers or said he didn’t care what she decided upon.

Guess he wasn’t too picky with his food.

She readied herself and stood up, making her way across the office to see if Ben wanted to be included. On the way, she started looking up places on her phone, feeling like Tai sounded good to her at the moment, not realizing that she was already at his door, which was open.

It sounded like he was on the phone with someone. He was speaking in a tone she’d heard too many times herself, so she could tell he was frustrated.

“Because I told you this already. I just don’t want to fight with you about this anymore Bazine!”

As his words began rising more and more in both irritation and volume, Daniella all at once felt like her feet were glued to the floor.

“Are you—are you fucking kidding me—that has nothing to do with—”

The blinds of his walled window were open, and through it, she could see his back facing her as he ran a hand through his hair. His jacket was off and it looked like his whole body was tense.

“I about to be very done with this conversation—would you just,” Mr. Solo yelled before he continued a few seconds later, “fine!”

As he let out a frustrated grunt, he ripped the phone away from his ear and pressed at the screen to presumably end the call. He then threw the device on his desk.

The clash brought her back to reality, and she realized that this was probably the last place she should be. As gently as she could, she began to move in the other direction, but Mr. Solo unfortunately took that moment to turn around and meet her right in the eyes.

His stare was fierce, which again, she knew well, but this one felt…different somehow. There was something else in it that she couldn’t place.

Daniella was already on the defense as she braced herself for his wrath, but to her utter shock, the anticipated shrieking and aggression towards her to vacate the premises in what was supposed to be this private moment—even if he was the one to leave his door open and shouting at a decibel loud enough for the entire building to be in on the spat.

As the seconds ticked by, Daniella felt like her eyeballs might just fall out of her head because neither of them was looking away.

Oh my god she should say something, shouldn’t she? She no doubt needed to apologize because he was probably thinking of a myriad of ways that he could fire her, and she could not let that happen.

“I—” she started, already finding that she wanted to perish because of this interaction, “I am so sorry Mr. Solo. I was coming by to see if you wanted me to order something for dinner and I—”

Daniella had…nothing else to say she horrendously apprehended, and she didn’t even know what she could say besides ‘Please don’t fire me take mercy on me scary lawyer man!’

And in some alternate universe, all Mr. Solo did was sigh before he walked over and sat on the couch that was in his office. He hung his head low with his eyes resolutely on the ground.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said quietly.

His cadence was unlike anything Daniella had ever heard from him. And she finally understood what it was that was in his stare that she couldn’t place.

It was defeat.

Before her was a man that was at the end of some kind of rope and was entirely defeated and…she had no idea what she should do.

“Oh—it’s okay Mr. Solo. I am sorry for infringing upon your privacy like this. I will—I guess I’ll just—”

“Have you ever been with someone who is utterly incapable of understanding you?” Mr. Solo asked, completely cutting off her anxiety ridden apology.

Daniella blinked a couple of times, not knowing what universe she apparently had stumbled into because there was absolutely no way Benjamin Solo had just asked her that question.

“Um—uh,” she began unthinkingly, recalling her last actual relationship that had ended well over a year ago, “I mean, yeah. My ex—he and I broke up for basically that exact reason.”

Ben looked up at her, “Really?”

What the fuck was happening here?

“Yeah…he sort of wanted to stay in the same place, and he didn’t understand that I wanted more with my life when I was graduating college.” Daniella explained.

“Oh well,” Mr. Solo responded, “that sounds like it worked out for the best then. You deserve to be with someone with similar aspirations.”

I’m sorry what?

“T-thank you Mr. Solo,” she stammered. It was a few moments before she could even fathom to ask her next question, “Are you…with someone like that now?”

Mr. Solo let out a humorless chuckle, “You could say that. She and I…don’t see eye to eye on anything. I feel like all we do is argue.”

Daniella bit at her lip and shifted her weight on her other foot, “Then why are you with her?”

His gaze was downwards again, and his words sounded even more defeated than they were before, “I…don’t know anymore.”

How in the world was she actually feeling bad for Ass Hole, Esquire?

“I uh—I was going to order some Tai for dinner…did you want me to get some for you too?”

Mr. Solo’s distressed brown eyes were on her again, and he nodded.

“Yeah, okay. That sounds nice.”

And that is how Daniella somehow found herself here, in the breakroom eating pad thai and talking to Benjamin Solo about his relationship problems.

Also nothing in her life made any sense anymore.

Starting out the meal felt unsurprisingly awkward when she called him from his office to let him know that the food had arrived. For a few moments, Daniella thought Mr. Solo was just going to get his food and leave like he normally did, but then he just sat down at the table and stared at his food with that same expression of defeat.

And Daniella very well could have taken her food to her own office, but she knew her little caring bitch heart was wrenching at the sight of such a normally put together man looking so—well, honestly so sad and pathetic.

Up until now Daniella wasn’t even sure he had any feelings beyond anger, irritation, and disappointment because even when she did a satisfactory job, it went completely ignored. She knew when he heard from him that there was something wrong like… ‘Oh Miss Guerrero, this shade of post-it note you used is downright offensive! Didn’t you know I was having a vendetta against the world, you, and lime green today?’

And she thought, what possessed her to sit down and join him was for once seeing another side of him. Like, he actually could be a human being.

The conversation was slow as she told him how she was finishing up her tasks, to which he would just respond with a hum or a short sentence, but Daniella obviously didn’t want to talk about work when there was a much more pressing issue at hand.

“You know Mr. Solo, I hope I’m not overstepping my place, but…you can talk to me about it if you want,” she said boldly. She’d always been a sort of straight forward person like that, and she was going to seize this opportunity for all it was worth.

Mr. Solo’s response was a bit unexpected because he could have totally burst out at her and told her how unprofessional she was being—this was after all the same man that berated her for being one minute late a few weeks ago—but then she just felt like she may have been seeing things as his mouth upturned into the slightest smile.

He had the capability? Who knew.

“I suppose I wouldn’t normally condone such an interaction with my employee, but seeing as I already broke that professionalism tonight by arguing over the phone with the door wide open, and…” he trailed off, his eyes glued to his beef and broccoli, which he was barely picking at before he sighed, “I’m just—I—”

He didn’t say anything again, and after a few silent instances, Daniella almost felt like telling him not to worry about it.

But then he was putting down his chopsticks and rubbing a hand over his face while he sat back in his seat, “I’m so tired.”

And his words felt so heavy that they were even weighing her down. It felt like he was referring to so much more than what a taxing relationship he might have been dealing with, but Daniella thought with such amazing progress that this had to be baby steps.

“How long have you guys been together?” She asked gently before she took a bite of her noodles.

“Uh…” he began, sitting up in his chair once more, and Daniella realized that she hadn’t even seen him slouch before, “well, we dated before while we were in law school together. And then we sort of rekindled things a few months ago after we saw each other again in professional circles.”

“I see,” Daniella concluded, feeling like that made complete sense as he’s been such a douche in that timeline, “could you say anything positive about her? I guess I’m just trying to understand what you’re clinging onto it if you haven’t been together all that long.”

Mr. Solo’s eyebrow’s furrowed as he finally took a bite of his food, clearly needing to chew on his thoughts as well, “I always liked her determination. She’s very intelligent, and she is an excellent lawyer.”

Daniella tried not to snort at his response, but a small one came out, and his sudden stare at her still had her paranoid that this conversation was going to go south at any moment.

“I’m sorry,” she spat out, “I didn’t mean to seem snotty, and that’s all great, but…I guess I just didn’t realize you were talking about an esteemed coworker instead of a girlfriend.”

Ben opened his mouth to say something, but it must have died on his throat because then he grunted, “Fuck, that’s exactly what I’m doing isn’t it? That’s how I’m treating this relationship aren’t I?”

Daniella let out a sigh of relief, “From what little you’ve told me, that’s certainly what it sounds like,” she concluded, hoping her next statement wasn’t going too far, “I mean what sorts of things do you even like to do together?”

And she was under the assumption that he must have had other hobbies than being an asshole and an excellent lawyer himself.

His eyes were on his food again, and he seemed lost in his head again before he shrugged his shoulders, “Fuck I can’t think of a single goddamned thing.”

His tone didn’t actually sound so defeated this time, however.

“Okay yeah that doesn’t really bode well,” Daniella concluded, “you gotta be able to at least do that with your significant other. Like…uh…I don’t know going to the movies, cooking with each other, playing sports, or fuck I don’t know—white people shit like horseback riding or something.”

Ben had a dry chuckle at that and shook his head.

“Being silly together, you know? That’s the important shit right there.” Daniella added.

Silence enveloped them for a few moments, and she didn’t know whether or not she should keep blathering on or not until he started speaking.

“Having coffee in the morning, playing video games together, or working out, or…binging shows together.”

Daniella blinked, still with her guard up, but having such astoundment towards the man across the table from her, “Yeah, exactly…you—get to really be yourself.”

Ben nodded, picking around at his food again and sighed, “Right.”

Daniella bit at her lip and she didn’t know if she should be disappointed in herself because she was certain that she did feel bad for Benjamin Solo, Mr. Ass Hole, Esq himself.

“You can’t really be yourself with her, can you?”

No words came out as she shook his head in seeming shame towards the ground.

Daniella knew what she wanted to say, and perhaps she would—and hopefully could feel more comfortable one day to say ‘well dump that beez because maybe that will put you in a better mood and that will be better for all of us,’ but she was still feeling out her limits with this whole entirely foreign and unexpected interaction.

“Then that’s something to think about, isn’t it Mr. Solo?”

Ben sighed, nodding his head and finally looked up at her again, “I suppose it is.”

Before Daniella could think of a response that was still on the more respectful side, her phone lit up on the table with a phone call. Both their eyes gravitated towards it to find that it was Marisol, checking on her as promised.

“Oh, sorry,” Daniella grabbed the phone, “that’s Mari…she’s just—she wanted to check on me.”

As soon as she said it, Daniella realized that she did not need to divulge this information whatsoever, but this whole conversation was sending her still and she wasn’t exactly in her rightest of minds.

“It’s fine,” Ben said, sitting up straighter again, “go ahead and take it.”

Daniella nodded, about to stand and do just that, not knowing how she was going to explain any of this while she was still in the office, but then Ben spoke again.

“In fact, it’s late. You could probably get going. Sounds like you were almost done anyway, so I can finish up things here,” Ben offered.

Alright having some sort of relationship talk with her boss was one thing, but this?

“R-really? Thank you Mr. Solo! Are you sure?” Daniella asked praying this wasn’t some sort of trick.

Ben nodded, “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Alright, well…I guess I’ll see you Monday then. Have a—good rest of your night.” She said as she stood up and walked towards the door.

She was almost over the threshold when he called out to her again.

“Daniella.” He said, and she turned, breathing in as a precaution still and bracing herself for the worst.

“Thank you—for listening. This is a—bit of a low moment for me, so I…appreciate it.” Ben stated.

“Oh,” Daniella started out of surprise yet again, “of course, Mr. Solo. I—you’re welcome.”

They nodded to one another one more time, and by the time Daniella was out of the office and officially in that damned elevator, Marisol was calling her again. She answered this time.

“Girl, brace yourself because I have no idea how to even start with this one.”

 ...

“And then he had the nerve to tell me that I am out of touch?” Payam complained, “As if grinding your own coffee beans makes you the expert on everything.”

“Psh, whatever you don’t need that fool!” Marisol exclaimed, forking into her salad.

Payam scoffed, “I know. Just see if I answer the next time he calls at two in the morning.”

Daniella raised an eyebrow at him as she chewed her wrap, “You’re gonna, aren’t you?”

Shrugging a shoulder, Payam also gave her a dubious expression, “I mean who’s to say Dani?”

Before she could respond with some other sort of quip, Ben slammed through the door of the breakroom with an air of moroseness that always seemed to follow him. He slumped himself in the chair across the table from Daniella. It was a few seconds before anyone said anything.

“Is there something you want to share with the class Benjamin?” Marisol asked.

In response, Ben grunted and slammed his elbows on the table as he threw his hands in his face. A long groan emitted from him.

“Geez, what happened? You get back together with Bazine or something?” Marisol asked as she forked some greens from her salad.

His face erupted from his hands, befuddlement all over his features, “What? I—no. Absolutely not.”

Marisol chuckled a bit before she took another bite, “Chill there Mr. S. It was a joke…mostly. I think the three of us would have to dangle you over the side of the building by your ankles until you came to your senses if you did.”

Payam snorted, “Like the three of us could come even close to lifting the densest lawyer of all time.”

The receptionist defended herself, claiming that she’d been working out her arms, and Daniella noticed how Ben seemed to tune them out and sink into his chair even more.

“Okay, we are getting off topic,” she intervened, hoping Ben would look back up at her, “what’s really wrong Ben?”

Slowly, he worked himself back up into his chair and sighed, eyes meeting with the table, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“From the beginning, duh.” Marisol quipped, and Daniella gave her a slightly pointed expression.

Marisol shook her head, “Sorry, I mean—wherever you feel comfortable.”

It seemed like Ben was at extreme war with himself, adjusting in his seat and opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“Oh, this is totally still about a lady, isn’t it?” Payam asked, “I know that look of anxiety.”

Ben grunted out in response again and placed his head on the table.

“Aww, come on Ben,” Daniella insisted, “you can tell us about your lady problems. It’s not like you haven’t before.”

For a few instances, Ben just stayed still, but then, eventually he sighed and sat up, speaking very softly, “I know, I know, but…this lady…she’s different.”

“They always are,” Marisol stated, “what’s so special about her?”

Ben started to trace his finger over the tabletop in imaginary shapes and he grinned slightly, “She’s…she is unbelievably chaotic, but she is determined and hardworking, and I don’t think she’s ever really cooked a proper meal for herself,” Ben explained, which gave Daniella the sneaking suspicion that he probably really wanted to cook for her, and that was sweet.

Before she could ask more about her, Ben continued in a more somber tone, “And she’s—she’s so many things that I’m not…and she’s been there for me when I didn’t even know how to ask for help.”

Daniella didn’t realize that this was going to get so serious so quickly, so she gave Ben a few moments to adjust and approached the topic gently, “So who is she?”

For some reason, Ben appeared to be surprised to be asked this question, even though it seemed like typical protocol, “Oh, well…she’s my neighbor.”

“Okay, well isn’t that perfect! Just go over to her and tell her you think she’s got it goin’ on.” Marisol encouraged.

Daniella almost wanted to laugh, thinking that is a compliment that Ben would never dole out, but her friend had a point, “Yeah, she’s like, right there isn’t she?”

Now it looked as if Ben was going to be sick, or he was extremely flustered, “Yeah, so…that’s kind of the thing.”

“What’s the thing?” Marisol asked after a couple of seconds.

“I uh, well…” Ben started, still not meeting any of their eyes, “I haven’t really…spoken to her before. Or—I kind of just did, but I—I think I just messed it all up.”

And a few impossibly baffling moments passed before Payam spoke up, “Okay Benjamin, the tea. You need to spill it.”

If someone were to tell Daniella a couple of months ago that not only was her boss—Esquire Ass Hole himself—was not only going to become a human being right before her very eyes, but then he was going to proceed to engage in one of the most insane emotionally charged interactions with a woman he’s never actually even had a conversation with, she would positively tell that person that they needed to have the biggest reality check of all time.

At first, it was a bit funny, hearing about how this woman lived across the street from him and they had all of these interests in common and they clearly wanted to bang, but then…it started to hit different, and it seemed to align with when Ben’s life started to fall apart a little bit with the break up and his dog getting run over.

Was he for real? Who does something like this? This was literally insane.

“Wait wait wait wait—” Daniella interjected, “she brought you cupcakes and you just say nothing to her?”

Ben looked like he wanted to vibrate out of his skin, “I might have frozen up in the moment.”

“And…her blinds are still closed?” Payam inquired.

“As of this morning they were, yeah.”

“Benjamin! What are you doing you need to get your ass over there now!” Marisol insisted.

It dawned on Daniella that Ben really did seem like he needed to at least find the humor in this situation because it truly was ridiculous, and maybe that way he could feel better about it.

“Because Mari, can’t you tell? He’s too nervous to go over to his obviously mutual crush and tell her he likes her.” Daniella teased, still in a bit of disbelief that she even just uttered that sentence about Ben Solo.

“Oh, this is so fun it’s like we’re in elementary school,” Payam added, and then his eyes widened, “oh! The three of us could do it, would you like that?”

She was thankful Payam was picking up what she was putting down, and she did not doubt that Marisol would add to their repartee as well.

And Ben seemed perplexed in his answer, but Marisol did end up interjecting over it.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed, adjusting in her seat, “Can you imagine? We just like saunter over there and be like ‘Yo girl, forget the cupcakes and go get yo mans from across the street!’”

“I’m sorry, is any of this supposed to be helpful?” Ben asked in betwixt their reactions.

“Do you think she’s like, going over to his place now to drop off even more cupcakes, and leaves them with a note like ‘Lol whoops.’” Payam joked.

Daniella and Marisol both laughed, and Daniella had to stop herself before she could keep talking, “Oh my god what if they go their whole relationship only communicating through various baked goods?”

Marisol pointed to her and nodded with a huge grin, “It’s gonna get a little awkward when they out here having to sext with like an éclair and a donut.”

All three of them lost it and started in hysterics again. Daniella thankfully noticed that even Ben joined in over their antics a bit.

“They for sure are going to have to have these cupcakes at their wedding.” Payam added amid their amusement.

“Totally, and I would have to give a speech like I was there when Ben didn’t have the cojones to go talk to her and just left a phallic maple bar as a come on at her doorstep.” Marisol insisted.

“Okay, okay guys, Jesus,” Ben expressed, but with a lightness to his voice he did not have before, “let’s take one thing at a time here.”

“See, going to talk to her doesn’t seem so bad in comparison to a strawberry and red velvet flavored proposal, now does it?” Marisol quipped.

“No,” Ben said with a sly smile, “no it doesn’t.”

Soon enough, however, that morose expression was back and he learned on his hand, “I just really really don’t want to mess this up.”

When Daniella was honest with herself, all jokes aside, she was fully aware that she was absolutely no relationship expert, so she didn’t even know if she was in any position to be giving advice.

“You’re not gonna mess it up more than you already have, let’s be honest here,” Payam expertly pointed out, “so what do you really have to lose?”

“Well, a semi functioning neighborly relationship, and…her,” Ben explained, sounding more and more downtrodden with every word, “I know it sounds almost silly, ridiculous even, but I just—I—”

He stopped himself. It looked like he wanted legitimately needed to be held by his ankles over the building.

“Awww, honey…I honestly think you’re going to be fine,” Marisol offered, “you want the rest of my salad?”

Ben didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“What kind of salad?”

When he seemed approving of her fancy sounding goat cheese concoction, Daniella also wanted to be encouraging, “The set up of all of this is just too crazy for it not to work out.”

“Yeah, this is highkey like the beginning of a rom com or something.” Payam added.

Ben chewed at his gifted salad, “You guys really think so?”

All of them looked at each other incredulously before answering at the same time, “Yes!”

There wasn’t much left of their lunch break left, so the conversation briefly shifted to what else needed to get done that day, and before Daniella knew it, they were all standing up to proceed with their allotted responsibilities.

“Oh and…thank you guys, for cheering me up and all that.” Ben said to them.

Daniella briefly chuckled, “We all knew there had to be a big softie in there somewhere.”

...

A/N: Weren’t expecting THAT now were you?? Teehee I had so much fun writing this, so I hope you guys enjoyed.

Lol I realized this and I have no idea why but between this and my other fic I have a lot of pastry based humor and as a means of sexual tension. Like???? Who has a pattern like that idk maybe I should have become a baker. What a sexually charged bakery that would be. I mean be on the look out for a sexy bakery in good old La La Land you never know. Also get a load of this asshole esq over here, jeeez.

aaifuawiufawo I love you guys so much, thank you endlessly and eternally for reading!

[causeimhappinesss]

Surprise me, Redfield (Chris Redfield x Moira Burton)

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Moira Burton

Warnings: age gap?

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for ten fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)

***

She was Barry's oldest daughter. The little Moira he saw at every barbecue of his colleague and friend. While he worked as a cop as S.T.A.R.S. member, she played Barbies and went to elementary school.

A child of 1991. And him? An old guy from 1973.

She could have been his daughter, if he had had her young. He felt bad that he thought she was cute, even though she wasn't his type, basically. He liked the curve of her lips whenever she smiled or laughed, as well as the way her eyes shone with mischief.

She was morally forbidden to him. She had just turned 30 and, naturally, Barry had invited him to her birthday party. Like him, she hadn't found love, preferring to devote herself to her career as an agent since 2011... After she and Claire were trapped and plunged into horror.

Now, he was watching her devour her piece of cake, under his gaze, while he had already finished his. He looked away from those so appetizing lips, which called him, tormented him. It had been years since he had seen Moira and for some reason, he wanted to see her. To talk to her. To kiss her. To spend a night between her thighs. Afterwards, he would cherish his memories.

"Chris, are you okay? You seem miles away", Barry remarked, raising an eyebrow to support his questioning.

Chris cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about the last time I celebrated my birthday with family members."

A good excuse. A real excuse. Barry nodded, patted him on the shoulder, and warned him he would go get a few beers.

Redfield felt the call of nicotine, it burned in his veins, but he counted on it to calm his ardors. He put down his plate, then headed outside the house, to sit in the grass of the garden, out of sight. Immediately, he slipped one of the cigarettes between his lips, and lit it with his favorite Zippo. He took a drag, then a second one. Gradually, his shoulders relaxed; he loosened up. The door to the garden creaked, snapping him out of his pause, and he swung his head around. There she stood behind him, two beers in hand, and she joined him, sitting down at his side. She handed him back a beer, which he gladly accepted, as he finished his cigarette.

"It seems you're sulking, Redfield." she commented.

"I'm exhausted, I haven't gotten my energy back since my last mission..." he sighed before crushing the butt of his cigarette under his shoe and then picking it up out of courtesy.

Finally, he took a sip of his beer, his eyes riveted on the flowerbed a few meters away. Barry's wife had always had a green thumb and it wasn't going to change, obviously.

"Well? You're getting old!" she laughed before putting a hand on his shoulder.

At her remark, he swallowed with difficulty and moistened his lips. He had celebrated his 48 years in January and even if his body remained tonic, imposing, that his mentality wasn't so old, these simple words reverberated in his mind like a painful mentra. Old... That's what he was.

"Probably..."

Chris turned his head to the brunette who was staring at him, her eyes mischievous, as Redfield's gaze fell on her full lips. A piece of cake had taken up residence at the corner of her lips, conferring her an innocent look. He would have loved to kiss her and collect that piece of cake, but when he was about to lean toward her, he thought better of it and tightened his grip around the beer. No, he couldn't do that. At the time of Raccoon City, she used to call him "Uncle Chris" even though they didn't share a drop of blood... And Barry would even strangle him at his age, being 61.

"My dad told me that you gave me a gift of $500. Thank you, that's very generous... But not very sought, Mr. 'I'm busy all the time', ah!" she scoffed.

Money wasn't a problem in their workfield, but it was still a lot... Maybe not enough for her. She wanted something else. Something more precious... Rare.

"I figured I wouldn't risk giving you a gift you wouldn't like. That's good thinking, right?"

Moira admired him for a moment and bit her lower lip. With her gaze, she imprinted his face in her memory, from his unshaven beard, to his blue eyes, to his thin lips or even the wrinkles that made his charm. For a long time, she hadn't seen him as an uncle, without any ulterior motive. But tonight, without her knowing why, she found him attractive...

"I know what kind of gift you can give me!" she announced.

She paused and talked again:

"Take me on a date."

Chris nearly choked with his saliva. Quickly weighing up the pros and cons, he nodded, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"When?"

"Surprise me, Redfield."

With that, the brunette got up, beer in hand, and headed home, smiling. Her heart was beating wildly, without imagining it was the same with Chris who couldn't believe it. In spite of himself, he was delighted by this invitation. Usually, he was the one to make the first move, but Moira seemed full of surprises...

Under his eyes, she rushed into the house.

He couldn't wait.

Even if Barry was going to kill him.

***

This was requested by an adorable reader named Jaina on AO3 :)

I know it's short compared to some of my works, but I had been busy and wrote this one on my cell phone aha

My AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetrayedWriter/profile

My instagram : @carolinemertz_

My twitter : @BetrayedWriter & @carolinemertz_

[brave-clarice]

“Clarice” Liveblog: Episode 2

Again, some extremely unfashionably late hot takes.

(Special thanks to @kathrynethegreat and @special-agent-pendragon​ for encouraging another liveblog!)

Clarice is working out! And eating junk food! I love it.

and cleaning her gun!

hey, Ardelia is drinking what I’m going to assume is her grandmother’s “smart people tea”.

Krendler disciplining Clarice already is infuriating but appropriate.

“I lost control.” Oh no, I don’t like that. Don’t make Clarice unstable. Her mental and emotional state never had anything to do with her failing career.

getting weird mixed signals from Ardelia. Last week, she obviously didn’t want Clarice to lie/stick to the script Krendler gave her, but now she’s telling Clarice she messed up by not doing so...?

“I better know you if you’re calling this early.” Amen, Ardelia.

I’m in love: this cinematography is straight out of the film (when she’s flying to WV with Crawford)!

“When’s the last time you went back to Appalachia?” “It’s been years.” What??? It has NOT been years--Clarice was JUST in West Virginia last week as well as in Silence, and she arguably attended college there as well. (UVA is at least nestled in the mountains, and you don’t have to drive far outside the Albemarle Valley to hit Appalachia proper.) After all the details about her character they’ve been nailing, they miss this glaring error? 

I like the tiny details she’s noticing (like the guy biting his nails). Not only because she’s an investigator, but because it’s reminiscent of Hannibal’s influence (imo).

Clarice Is Short: The Saga continues

still not getting any creepy vibes off Krendler. He’s going to be much less effective as an antagonist if he isn’t lewd as well as a dick.

I really don’t care for the way the opening “credits” fade out from the death’s-head moth to Clarice’s face. There are MANY animals that represent her, or parts of her, in the books--lions, lambs, horses, and of course birds--so this choice feels empty and lazy to me.

also lazy: having a fellow agent straight-up tell her in episode 2 “you shouldn’t be in the Bureau.” Maybe in two or three years, after some further “Death Angel”-type incidents, I could see this blatant rudeness, but not yet.

“Reesey”? Thanks, I hate it.

this flashback must be of Clarice’s little brother. That answers one question I had last week. That said...Clarice’s brother doesn’t play the same role in her story that Mischa does in Hannibal’s--but this sure feels like a Mischa-esque flashback.

good: they’re finally getting to the source of Clarice’s actual trauma!

bad: this is NOT how Clarice found out about her father. In fact, that whole incident is laid out in detail in the novels, and there’s nothing overly literary/un-cinematic about it, so this feels unnecessary. “The police are here! Something happened to Daddy!” No, bad! Show, don’t tell!

she would’ve known better than to introduce herself to that kid as “Clarice Starling, FBI,” come on now.

were they regularly able to wire tap hair clips in 1993? 

actually, nothing in this show looks very 90s to me so far. I’m sad about it.

so in eighteen months, Ruth Martin has gone from a junior Senator to the Attorney freakin’ General, and now she might run for governor?? At least let her get settled in one position of power first, why don’t you!

yet more Buffalo Bill flashbacks...alas.

are they trying to make this guy another surrogate Hannibal character? He’s commenting on Clarice’s accent and the dryness of her skin, asking about who she “left behind”...it all feels very Hannibal. (I know he’s a Charismatic Cult Leader trope, too--but when played off of Clarice...)

“Ew.” “I hate this guy.” I laughed.

I understand that Clarice probably feels conflicted re: her siblings in the book, but I’m really not digging the flashbacks of this Tim Burton character her brother.

@ the writers: Clarice already has the lamb backstory/symbolism, too. We don’t need this Little Brother stuff.

*shrieking* Mrs. Starling! At the sink washing the blood out of his hat!!! 

...aaand they had to ruin it with the brother’s painfully bad dialogue. Will still be good for gif-making, though.

are we supposed to interpret all these flashbacks as Clarice being incapable of controlling her emotions/state of mind? She keeps losing herself in memories and emerging all doe-eyed and panicky. I don’t like it.

not to be a broken record but...Clarice should be TOUGH. Again, Ardelia only saw her cry once in seven years. But she’s more worked up in this scene than Jodie was in Memphis!

when Mr. Cult Leader shouts “Agent Starling! Agent Starling!” he sounds exactly like Hannibal calling her back to his cell in the asylum. That has to be intentional. 

damn, wish that I could look as good five minutes after I’ve been crying as Clarice does.

I LOVE that Ardelia gets to be the crucial behind-the-scenes book-smart partner to Clarice’s action heroine.

AG Martin’s just playing politics by turning a blind eye to the crooked sheriff. But when her own daughter was just kidnapped and almost killed, she looks like a real hypocrite.

gosh, Rebecca Breeds is great. I already hope she gets nominated for an Emmy.

so Krendler is...doing the right thing???

Clarice’s father was definitely not a sheriff. I hope she’s just exaggerating for dramatic effect. (Maybe this will be clarified later.)

she couldn’t just sit with a manipulative guy without getting emotional, but she’s cool as a cucumber while telling an extended story about her father? HmmMM.

sometimes her mannerisms and facial expressions are so much like Jodie’s that it’s uncanny, like here when she leans forward to confront the Cult Leader.

“She did it.” Damn straight!

another great callback to Silence. this show’s camera crew knows its stuff!

“He’s concerned I have some residual trauma from Bill.” I. Hate. This. Subplot--and all its OOC implications.

“Catherine was close to her father, too.” Ooh, a nice allusion to the novel! Clarice makes note of their “common wound,” the loss of a father, when she’s in Catherine’s apartment in Silence.

she is just SO pretty.

little Clarice looks a LOT like Rebecca Breeds. I hope we see some more of her. 

The Good:

the continuing visual nods to the Silence film via cinematography

Mama Starling!!!

Clarice’s “The World Will Not Be This Way Within the Reach of my Arm” attitude, refusing to leave without helping the victims.

Ardelia Mapp coming in clutch! 

Clarice being, generally, a badass

and using psychological tricks/mind games to pin the antagonist...that’s the woman who disarmed a monster with just a few words.

Rebecca Breed’s acting has been phenomenal so far.

I like Clarice’s haircut a lot better when worn down (though it’s not very practical for fieldwork, so we probably won’t see it much).

The Bad:

the continuing Buffalo Bill-related Trauma Subplot. Ugh.

all the flashbacks to Clarice’s brother (and the not-so-subtle suggestion that her brother is, symbolically, another lamb).

will the real Paul Krendler please come forward? this guy is so TAME.

the other agents’ hostility towards Clarice needs to be toned down slightly so that it can escalate. Otherwise, where’s the tension?

is this actually 1993? I’m not feeling it. Shouldn’t it have a little of that Season 1/2 X-Files aesthetic? Please give me more than once-an-episode references to pagers and fax machines!

that glaring Appalachia continuity error...it’s still bugging me.

I missed the overt Hannibal references, even though they’re not necessary to any part of this episode. A lady can dream!

Overall, I really liked this one despite my various issues with it. It started shakily but built to a great finish. The emphasis across both episodes on Clarice being in the FBI not just to “get out, get anywhere,” but out of a genuine desire to help victims has been wonderful. I just hope they don’t swerve too far into the “too traumatized and emotionally compromised to function” lane. It would be a disservice to Clarice’s character and to her journey (and would smack too much of “Hannibal really did prey on her weak mind/brainwash her”.

Things I’d still like to see: More of her personality. Her hobbies and interests. That she’s cleaning her gun is great! Now let’s see “Poison Oakley” practicing her sharpshooting skills. Or car shopping. Or clothes shopping to show off her “developing taste.” (Ardelia can come!) I’ll take literally anything. Give us more of Clarice’s sense of humor as well. She had some subtle funny moments in the pilot, and it’s nice to see Rebecca smile for a change.

And Krendler? Smear that man in grease! I appreciated a happy ending even though Clarice’s career is, as we know, already in a downward spiral--the last thing we want is for every episode to be a slog, especially when a good chunk of the audience hasn’t read the book and doesn’t know Clarice is doomed to fail in the Bureau.

However... Krendler’s not a “redemption arc” kind of character. Or even a “run-of-the-mill sexist asshole” character. This is a man who spent seven years systematically sabotaging a young woman’s career because a) he was jealous that she solved the Gumb case before him, and b) she wouldn’t fuck him. He was a Justice Department official working fist-in-glove with a serial child molester who was planning some of the heinous vigilante justice imaginable. THAT’S why his very gruesome end at Hannibal’s hands felt deserved--even Clarice thought so! In short, he needs to get nasty.

Anyway, thanks for coming to another long-overdue TedTalk. Fingers crossed that the next one will be more timely (aiming for Sunday night)! 

[horrorslashergirl]

A takeback on a raven. A Shadow Story

Authors Note: History is always interesting and everyone has one. Shall we take a glimpse at the infamous Boston Serial Killer?

Warning: 18+ because of sexual assault, abusive behaviour perhaps and some uestionable themes. Just putting the warning in case.

Words: 1.9k

It was autumn in Boston and the rain just stopped as the preteenagers exited the school, all glad for the ending of the program, looking forward to getting home for the weekend. Everything was peaceful until a little boy was pushed into a puddle from the rain, all his clothes getting wet and leaves sticking to his face.

He looked up at the group of boys laughing and smirking at his form, the books from his satchel fell out into the dirty ground, destroying the pristine white pages.

"Looks like the ugly raven fell off the tree." one of the boys, probably the leader mocked, kicking at the books and throwing them all around the ground covered by the amber leaves of autumn.

The little boy didn't say anything, but he avoided looking up at the aggressors, only for one of them to take his book from the ground and hit him upside the head with it.

"We are talking with you, crow. Hey! What's this?" he asked, opening the destroyed book and looking at the content inside, the group accompanying him and checking what the pages held.

They all began to laugh and the boy felt a heavy force on his head from the obnoxious and obscene sounds the group was making.

"Check this out, guys! Naked women!" the leader said, snorting at the images.

It was actually an anatomy book, very much detailed and nothing improper at all; it was educative, but the low-brains were too blind to actually see, probably couldn't even read the title of the book anyway.

Before they could throw any more insults, the teacher came by them, scolding the group and promising them that she will have a very nice discussion with their parents. The pre-teenagers scowled and looked down at the boy on the ground, rolling their eyes and starting to walk away.

"See you on Monday, pervert!" The leader yelled before stalking away after his group.

"I told you that you should away conflicts, especially with Henry." The female teacher told the boy, getting his books from the ground and handing them to the black-haired boy.

"I-I tried." he whispered, putting his belongings back in his leather satchel.

"Lucas, if you indeed tried you wouldn't have been here. Now, go home. You wouldn't want to be late for dinner." she quickly told him, then walked away, leaving Lucas alone, who slowly got up, whipping the dirt and leaves from his pale cheeks, which had a slight rosy tint.

He walked to the bus station, waiting for the next one since he missed the principal one. At last, this one wasn't crowded with his classmates and bullies, so he could sit in silence until he arrived home. On the long drive, he pulled out his books so that he could inspect them; indeed destroyed, but not completely, although he will have to get all the unwanted mess off and dry them.

He really hated this school, but not because he didn't want to learn or because of homework. The classmates and pretty much every kid was a Buffon, ignorant over the edge and it made him always wonder why he was learning among a wave of monkeys who couldn't distinguish tendons from bones.

"Last stop! We are here." the driver announced, getting off from the seat and exiting the vehicle to be met with the imposing view of his house that looked like something from a Tim Burton art book.

He opened the large gate to enter, stepping on the brick sidewalk and on the stairs to the large mahogany double doors, his tiny hand wrapping around the door handle and pushing the door open, only to be met with the face of his aunt, younger sister of his mother.

"You're late and oh my! You look horrible!" Aunt Mia said, her brown eyes widening and she grimaced at the dirty and disheveled look Lucas was sporting, not like he wanted to.

"Your mother is in the living room, having tea with the ladies of her literature club. If she sees you like this, she will go bonkers." Mia whispered to Lucas, narrowing her eyes at the boy.

"Get your clothes off right now. I just whipped the floorboards and cleaned the carpets. I don't want to see one spot of mud on them." Mia said with finality, moving with the tray of tea tools to the kitchen to refill them.

Lucas sighed, putting his satchel down and tugging on the black vest off, the white button-down came next, a shiver running down his spine at the coldness. He put his shoes neatly on the doormat and unbuckling the belt, tugging his khaki slacks down when he heard a scream.

His amber eyes looked up to see his older sister at the top of the main staircase, looking at him like she saw something repulsive.

"Mother!" Amelia yelled, making Lucas's eyes widen, knowing that this won't turn out to be good.

In a few seconds, not enough time for him to get his clothes and run upstairs to his room, his mother exited the livingroom stopping once her amber eyes laid on him, the other ladies peeking their heads from the living-room, curious and also hungry for something to gossip about later.

Everything happened in a flash of his mother's long black dress and a slap echoed in the gigantic victorian style house.

"You pervert! This is how you present yourself in front of so many ladies?!" Evelyn's booming voice meets Luca's ears, his cheek stinging from the slap, his tiny hand holding the red spot of skin.

He wasn't one to cry, he never cried, just looking down in shame as he heard his older sister snicker and his mother's friends whispering all kinds of things that he blocked from understanding; probably very judgemental comments.

Evelyn looked down at her son with a viper like glare, her amber eyes matching Lucas. He looked up and felt his legs tremble, so as quickly as possible he got his wet and dirty clothes off the floor and dashed upstairs to his room, avoiding his sister's smirking face at the embarrassing moment.

After cleaning himself up and getting dry clothes from his closet, Lucas looked into the mirror of his bedroom, making sure he was presentable, his raven black hair slicked back.

He grimaced at the color; the reason for why he was labeled as the raven or crow.

A knock at his door made him glance to see his aunt, Mia with her lips pulled into a thin line.

"You missed dinner, young man. Also tomorrow you have waltz classes, piano lessons and let's not forget about your homework and also Evelyn told me that tomorrow you will clean the attic. A reminder to never pull a stunt like that again. I saved you some dinner, but don't expect this to be a normal occurrence. You know how important punctuality is." Mia rambled and all Lucas did was listen, because what else was he supposed to do when you're surrounded by women.

He was the only male inside the house; Evelyn, his mother who reminded him of a witch from the fairytales, then his older sister Amelia who looked a lot like Evelyn and Mia, his aunt and younger sister of Evelyn who was responsible for cooking and cleaning, since she hasn't married a rich man like his father.

All Lucas know about his father was that he was rich as his mother stated and he was very fond of literature, one of the reasons the library of the house was mostly used by Lucas. Amelia was too busy following after Evelyn to actually open a book and read, at last, a paragraph.

Lucas followed Mia to the kitchen, sitting down at the table and eating the leftover boiled vegetables and cold steak of beef. He heard Evelyn and Mia talk outside the kitchen into the front entrance of the house.

After he was finished, he washed the dishes and was ready to head back to his bedroom or perhaps the library to find a book to take his mind of the events today.

He was meet with his mother and aunt, all put together, dresses perfectly without a wrinkle, make-up was neatly done to hide the aging and the hair? Not even a rebel lock out of place.

"Mother?" Lucas asked, making the women look at him.

"We're going out tonight, Lucas. There is an important event in town about new investors for the new hotel. We've got invitations." Evelyn said, fixing her fur coat and lipstick in the mirror by the front door.

Of course, they were out hunting new fresh meat or better said a new wallet to get their manicured hands onto.

"I'm no longer with Mr. Gladstone to tie me down so we don't have to worry about anything." Evelyn muttered and Lucas fought the urge to grimace and say something.

Mr. Gladstone as in his father; Evelyn's former husband, now deceased and a loving father as much as Lucas could remember.

The two ladies exited the house and closed the door behind them, not even saying goodbye to the little boy, leaving him in the darkness, save for the faint light coming from the chandelier above.

He sighed and decided to went straight to bed, not even in the mood to read anything. He was tired and not in the mood to do anything at all. He marched upstairs and sadly he had to pass his sisters' door that was wide open, more feminine voices coming from inside.

Amelia was with her friends, probably having a sleepover or just a gathering for doing make-up and their hair.

He tried to be discreet and quickly pass the door, so he won't be observed.

"Hey!"

No such luck.

He looked over his shoulder and saw one of Amelia's friends, long curly hair in a golden color following down her shoulder and mischievous sky blue eyes looked at him.

"You're Amelia's little brother, right?" she asked, making him slowly nod.

Amelia turned from her friends and grimaced once she saw Lucas.

"You again? Stop creeping out of the corners like that, pervert!" she yelled, bopping his nose pretty roughly and making it sting; a normal habit of hers.

"I'm going downstairs to get some snacks. It might take a while." Amelia said and walked out of her bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen.

Lucas was ready to bolt to his bedroom, but he was pushed inside his sister's room by the blonde; his amber eyes looking at the older girls who smirked or whispered to each other.

Lucas was only 10, while his sister was 17 as were the females in front of him.

"Umm...I need to go...My curfew is...." he shuttered, trying to excuse himself, but then he felt the blonde move behind him.

"Awww why in such a hurry? You're too big for a curfew." the girl whispered in his ear, making him blush and gulp down.

Before he could say anything else, he was pushed forward, two girls holding his arms and his eyes widened as he looked at the blonde, who snorted.

"Yell and we will tell that you tried to come upon us." the way she spoke, made the boy shake in fear, not used to what was happening. Sure, he was slapped and beaten up over his hands with a wooden spoon by his mother, but not this.

The blonde started to work on the belt that held his slacks; the gesture finally hitting on what they were planning. Lucas wasn't obvious to this kind of activity; he was very educated, but never indulged in them.

Another girl, a redhead closed and locked the door, giggling at Lucas's scared expression.

"This will stay between us all." the blonde whispered against Lucas's lips.

[sparkie96]

“Not Going Anywhere”

(A Happy Birhday Cleon Present to @midnightsapphiremoon (because Tumblr is acting wonky af on my end so sorry for the spam!) HAPPY BIRTHDAY!)

It was mornings like this that were either hit or miss for her, but right now? It was peaceful...bliss even. Claire just watched the storm, sipping her still hot and steaming coffee as she cradled it between her hands. 

It had been months after the Sushestvovanie Island incident, months after Alex Wesker, the bitch sister of the infamous Albert Wesker, had come in with her little mole and tore TerraSave apart from the inside out. She had lost a lot of good people that day...people she had worked with and had been friends with for years. She nearly lost Moira and Barry too. The whole thing had just been one hauntingly familiar shitshow...one that she would very much like to forget. 

So, here she was; sitting on the comfortable outdoor couch on the porch of the Burton Mountain House, protected by the overhang as she watched the rain soak the trees and drench the Earth while thunder rumbled all around. Lightning would occasionally light up the sky, brightening the darkened atmosphere. It was still early morning, and she didn’t make breakfast for herself yet. Mainly because her “roommate” for the weekend was still sleeping inside and she wouldn’t eat without him. 

“Jesus…” A voice by the screen door said as Leon finally wandered outside, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, “It’s raining cats and dogs out here.” 

A smile crept onto her lips as Claire turned from the serene scene to the beautiful man standing before her, “The weather channel said it was going to be nothing but thunderstorms all weekend.” 

“True.” Leon said as Claire scooted over, allowing him to sit next to her on the couch, “So...how are you holding up?” 

She gently nudged her shoulder against his before leaning against him, his arm wrapping around her shoulders, “I should be asking you that. You went through that hell with my brother in China and Tall Oaks.” 

“We all went through some shit,” Leon admitted as his eyes met hers, his thumb gently rubbing her arm through the thick material of his sweatshirt, which he had just noticed she was wearing, “...You stole my hoodie.” 

Claire chuckled, “It was left unattended at the foot of our bed.” She pulled her knees up so they were up against her chest, “And it looked too comfortable to leave unattended.” 

Leon smiled and hummed as he settled his head against hers, both of them watching the rain, “Touché. Alright, you get a pass for now...but that’s only because you’re here to get over some shit.” 

“Isn’t that why you came here too?” Claire asked, “To get over everything?” 

Leon nodded as another bout of thunder rumbled above, “Yeah...and to get away from it all. It’s funny...how we all come here to get away from our problems.” 

“Yeah,” Claire agreed, breathing in the thick earthy smell of soaked dirt, “that’s because the view is nice and the mountains are nothing but peace and quiet. And the cabin feels...homey.” 

Once again, Leon nodded as the two of them grew quiet, listening to the whooshing sound of the rain as it pelted the roof above them. She had just noticed that the wind was picking up slightly, making the trees, bushes and windchimes sway. Claire could feel Leon’s warmth radiating through the material of their clothes, warming her body after the cool early morning Summer air chilled her skin. She could also hear the calming sound of his rhythmic breathing, and she couldn’t help but look up with a smile, wondering if he was about to fall back to sleep. 

He caught her gaze, looking down into her eyes with another smile of his own, “What?” 

“Nothing.” She said with a shake of her head, “Just wondering if the rain was making you sleepy again.” 

“It is peaceful,” He admitted, “But...I could really go for some breakfast. How about some pancakes from that Waffle House we passed on the way up here?” 

“Shouldn’t we be getting Waffles from the Waffle House?” 

“We could do that too.” 

“Okay...after a couple more minutes.” Claire said, “You’re too warm and I’m too comfortable to move.” 

“Fine.” He sighed with mock annoyance, but she had known him long enough to know that he was teasing, probably too comfortable to move himself. 

So, they sat there some more in their peaceful bliss, both too comfortable to budge. She did move to offer him a sip of her coffee, to which Leon accepted. He had made a bit of a face at the taste, but that’s because it wasn’t sweet enough for his liking. She poked her tongue out at him as he handed the cup back to her. 

“I like my coffee a little bitter with a touch of sweet,” She explained, “unlike you, Mr. Sweet-Tooth.” 

“You didn’t seem to mind the sweetness last night.” He teased, poking his tongue out back at her. 

She shrugged, “Marshmallows and chocolate are a lot different than coffee, Mr. Kennedy.” 

“Well, yeah,” Leon laughed, “No shit, Ms. Redfield, but a bit more cream and sugar in coffee wouldn’t kill you.” 

“Well, a little less wouldn’t kill you either.” She teased right back. 

“Hey, don’t knock Vanilla creamer.” 

“I won’t if you stop busting on my bitter dark roast.” 

“Deal.” 

There was silence once more between them that morning, and Claire knew that they had been dancing around topics that both had been purposely avoiding. Words unspoken hung in the air, questions unasked. They hadn’t talked about all that they had been through these last few months last night over pizza, Claire purposely putting on a movie and Leon eagerly watching to avoid talking about their experiences.

Though, clearly she hadn’t avoided Leon coming in to sleep in the same bed as her, nor did he reject her when she rolled over and cuddled into his arms. They hadn’t directly said anything to one another, or even hinted, but Claire kind of had an idea of what Leon had gone through via Chris and Sherry, and most likely, Sherry told Leon about what had happened to Claire. But neither Leon or Claire directly spoke to one another about what had happened...and if she was being completely honest with herself, she would rather like to keep it that way. 

At least until she was one-hundred percent sure that Leon was ready to talk about it and vice versa. She didn’t want to drive a wedge in between their already distant relationship and times like these were so rare that she didn’t want to drive him away and have to wait God only knew how long for another weekend like this. 

She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before they were tossed into the next hell fate threw their way. Because next time...what if one or neither of them made it out? And wouldn’t a thought like that make them want to talk and get shit off their chests? 

Claire thought about it, but then mentally shook her head. No, it was better off this way, there was plenty of time to talk and she shouldn’t think like that. They were both very strong people who could handle their own in a situation like Raccoon City, Harvardville, etc. They were survivors and would continue to survive until their time came. They had plenty of time still and no BOW or terrorist was going to change that. They wouldn’t let them. 

She had been so deep in thought, she hadn’t even noticed Leon gently shaking her arm, “Earth to Redfield? Are you alive in there?” 

“Huh?” Claire said, finally rousing to focus on him, “What?” 

“I asked how you’ve been.” Leon repeated, “But you seemed to space out on me there. Everything alright?” 

She gave a small but reassuring smile and a nod, “Yeah...just...thinking about some things, y’know?” 

He wore a concerned look, raising a brow, “Does it have anything to do with…?” 

She gave a sigh of defeat. Well, there goes that plan. With another nod, the metaphorical dam burst as she admitted that she had been thinking about the island incident and everything that had happened. She admitted that she was going to talk about it at the same time Leon was ready to talk about what had happened to him, but avoided it due to not wanting to drive him away. Both topics were nightmarish to them both and she figured it was better not to talk than to...well, talk. 

“I just…” She began but quieted herself once more, “I miss you, you know? And...it’s very rare that we get to hang-out or see each other due to working very different jobs and traveling and all that fun stuff. So, when we do hang-out or see each other…” 

“You’re afraid talking about our problems is gonna make things awkward between us.” Leon deduced. 

“Yeah, and...I don’t want that.” Claire admitted, “I just...want to pretend that things are normal and that we’re just a couple of old friends hanging out.” 

“But we’re not.” Leon pointed out, catching her off-guard, “We’re old friends, yes...but...a disaster like that brought us together...a couple of times actually.” 

At her questioning look, Leon continued on that they weren’t normal and things would never be normal for them because of the paths that they had taken. If it wasn’t for Claire, Leon probably wouldn’t have made it out of Raccoon City. Claire pointed out that it had been him who shot the first zombie that night and saved her ass, but Leon pointed out that she had helped him and Sherry out that night too. 

“You’re the one who got the train working.” Leon pointed out, “If it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t have made it out.” 

He then said that their lives had changed that night, and even though it had caused some future issues for them to face...it also brought them all together. Leon didn’t have much of a family before he met Claire and her brother and Sherry. It was because of them that he kept fighting, because they gave him something to live for. He had lost people along the way...but in the end, he still had them. 

Claire felt a tightness in her chest, touched by his words as she swallowed the lump now in her throat, “I...I felt the same…” She admitted, “I just...I didn’t know you felt that way too…” 

Leon smiled as he leaned in and kissed her forehead, “If there’s anything bothering you...you can tell me. And I know you’ll listen if there’s something up with me. So don’t you dare think I’m going anywhere, okay?” 

Claire took a deep breath and smiled up at him, “I know...and I won’t.” 

“Good.” Leon said with a nod, “Now...how about that Waffle House? I’m buying.” 

[soyforramen]

I can have an AU of my underground witch  and vampire AU, as a treat.  (Or, @sullypants told me to.)

Betty hissed and turned her head away. It didn’t feel like what she’d heard; it was supposed to be a soothing wave of calm and giddiness. Instead, this felt like two very large, very angry mosquitoes were jockeying for the best position to her veins.

“Fidgeting just makes the pain worse,” Jughead mumbled.  His lips ghosted across her skin, sending a flight of gooseflesh up her arm that made the urge to squirm worse.

Instead of thinking about the vampire currently attached to her, Betty bit the inside of her lip and resolutely stared at the peeling paint and rusted tools around her.  It was better than noticing just how very unsexy her first time was.  

Veronica had swooned when she described the first time she’d allowed herself to be bitten by a red haired vamp.  And Betty didn’t really want to remember all the gory details Reggie had relayed to her about his tryst with a vampire moonlighting as a boxer.

This hurt.

At least it took away from the boredom of trailing Honey and Weatherbee.  For the last three weeks they’d found nothing out of the ordinary.  The routine of diners, bars, and bowling alleys was nothing out of the norm for two consummate bachelors who may or may not be selling organs on the black magic market.

Of course, if they weren’t trailing the pair of allegedly upstanding citizens around town, Jughead would never have been foolish enough to have forgotten to eat for three days.  

A small part of her wondered whether he’d really forgotten, or if perhaps he was drawing another line in the sand between them.  The strange dance they’d been playing at for almost a year was still at a standstill.  Despite Betty’s hints and practically outright flirtation, Jughead maintained his aloof, Victorian sensibilities.  

(Damn him for propriety, and damn her for going for the Byronic, colicky types.)

It itched too.  Whatever it was about him, this was ten times worse than a mosquito bite.  She wondered if it would be impolite to ask whether he was done, but then again there were those overtones of the spector-like relationship between them.  

(Perhaps she should ask Cheryl what was in those drinks at the Vixen club.  That came far too close to love potions, though, and Betty was certainly not desperate enough to turn to those.  Those she’d leave to her sister.)

A wet, warm thing drew across her arm, and Betty realized with a start that Jughead had just licked her.  He apologized quickly and wiped his coast sleeve across her arm.

“It helps the skin mend better,” he mumbled looking as apologetic as a dog that had just been stepped on.  

“Oh.”

She hesitated.  What did one say after being used like a blood filled Capri Sun?

“Well, you didn’t miss much,” Betty murmured.  She shifted in her seat and drew her arm towards her face.  In the dim neon light she could see that the skin was indeed healing; only two light pink points were visible on her arm. 

 “Honey-Bee still hasn’t gotten past the entree.  At least you finished quicker than I expected.”

Jughead flushed and turned away from her.  Betty realized too late just what she’d said and couldn’t help the undelicate snort that echoed in the space around them.  As weary as she was growing of this canyon of space between them, moments like these, where the Victorian propriety proved to be as anachronistic as a rotary phone, were amusing enough for Betty to keep him around.

“Thank you,” he said when his pallor returned to it’s normal bleached bone color.  “I’m sorry if it hurt.  I was as gentle as I could be.”

Betty shrugged and leaned her arms against the windowsill.  “I’d say it was just uncomfortable.  Though I did miss the fireworks.”

He quirked an eyebrow.   

“Veronica said the first time she’d been bitten it was the best high of her life.”

“Well she can’t be right all the time,” he said darkly.  

Betty hummed and they went back to their stake out.  

“Do you think they’ll get pumpkin pie this time, or split cherry again?”

“Cherry.  Definitely,” Betty said.  “They had pumpkin last time.”

Thus went one more night in the life of a private investigating duo.

xxxx

Toni’s body shook with laughter hard enough that she almost fell out of her seat.  Cheryl steadied her, a board grin on her face. 

“You mean our resident Burton-esque Lothario didn’t charm you first?”  Cheryl asked.  

Betty shook her head, wary of her tone.  Cheryl leaned back in her seat and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Betty asked.

Toni gasped in a breath of air and brushed tears from under her eyes.  “I knew he liked you, but I didn’t realize he was in this deep.”

Betty’s brow wrinkled and she leaned forward, carefully avoiding the large coffee in front of her.  “Liked me?  Lately he can’t stand to be in the same room with me.”

“Please,” Toni snorted, “if he didn’t want to be near you he’d have bitten and charmed you long ago.  It’s like the greatest -” she paused and glanced at Cheryl.

“Trust.  Or rather, intimacy.  Both things he’s the absolute worst about,” Cheryl said.

Toni nodded.  “When you bite someone, you normally send them into a trance state to keep them from realizing what’s actually happening.  It’s an evolutionary advantage to make sure prey don’t try and fight you off.  Like a drug to keep prey busy while nature takes its course, only the drug keeps them coming back for another.   But when two people share blood and both are aware that it’s happening -”

“Oh.”  

Oh.  

“Who knew our grungy Mr. Cullen could be so vulnerable?  Especially around a witch?”  Cheryl asked in a sing-song voice.  

Her thrill of the revelation was radiating off her in waves and Betty watched as two strangers shifted closer to each other and struck up a conversation while their eyes made promises of later.  Even Toni, mostly immune to Cheryl’s pheromones, shifted closer to her and laced their hands together as she raised her hand in answer.

“But why doesn’t he do something about it?” Betty asked.  Frustration wouldn’t even begin to cover this one, though desperate exasperation might.

“Because he’s old-fashioned,” Toni said.  “Things were much different back then.  One didn’t go about things that would dishonor a woman’s virtue.  Not if you were trying to keep her social standing intact.”

Betty huffed and crossed her arms.  “That’s just stupid,” she muttered.  

Toni snorted.  “Look, if you want to wait for him, we’ll all be dead from the heat death of the universe.  He’s not going to make a move until he knows for certain you love him, and even then it will be more chaste than a co-ed math-letes convention.”

“It’s the new millennium, baby cousin,” Cheryl said with a pointed look.

“Which means I’m -”

“- going to have to take charge,” Cheryl and Toni said in eerie unison.  

xxxx

Another night spent on stake-out.  Only this time, Betty couldn’t keep from sending glances Jughead’s way as she tried to figure out the best way to approach this.  

Eventually, his own curiosity got the better of him.  “Is there something on my face?”

No, but there should be.  

“Did you feed already?”

His eyes narrowed, the cogs in his brain working overtime to decipher a simple question.  

“Yes.  Why do you ask?”

“Good.”

With more convinction than she felt, Betty leaned over and kissed him as hard as she could manage from her perch on the plastic vegetable crate.  Jughead kissed her, a ravenous hunger she hadn’t felt in almost a year.  

“Betty …”

He spoke her word like a glorious sin, and it was all she could do to keep from crawling into his lap. 

“I don’t want -”

Betty pulled back, icy chills washing over her.  She chewed her lip as she searched his face, but found nothing more than restrained longing.

“I know it’s a different century, but I don’t want you to think I’m overstepping any boundaries.”

Leap over them, you idiot, was what she wanted to say, but instead she leaned back and took a breath. 

“Look, Juggie.  I appreciate that, I really do.  But is that the only reason?”

He nodded.  A lock of his hair fell into his eyes, and Betty brushed it back behind his ear.  She left her hand on his check and he moved his head to kiss her palm.  

“Do you love me?”  

Jughead’s lips curved into a soft smile.  “Most ardently.”  

This time, the kiss was slow and sweet, a final revelation in the light of neon lights.