Val was settled on a sofa with a cup of alcoholic punch, taking big sips and playing with the long fake gray tail he was wearing. He was in his normal clothing- a worn leather jacket, an old flannel underneath, skinny jeans… except he had on a tail and some mouse ears. “Yeah, Halloween’s a pretty visual holiday, so I mostly come for the food an’ the company. See? I’m one of the three blind mice.” He teased, wearing sunglasses- a great excuse to wear them inside and not look weird. “Get it? Cuz… I’m blind… and uh, I ate my brothers. That’s why it’s just me.” He added, trying to figure out a story. 

Charles couldn’t help but arch a brow at the other. “You know, you could just tell stop at the blind part. I’m pretty sure that’s enough for people to get the costume. That and I’m pretty sure the mice didn’t eat his brothers...”

Lauren was working in her notebook when she looked over to the person beside her. “I can’t decide,” she said. “Should I go with something predictable at the end of this book or go with something that might make fans go ‘why on earth did she do that?’ Both could be good or bad…” she said, sighing. 

Charles smiled at the other. “Well, I usually tell my students to go with whatever ending the story deserves. Sure, we want to keep our audiences in mind when writing but the truth is, as a writer, we need to do right by the story and give it an ending that it needs, if that makes sense?”

“God, it’s nice to have a day off. So what should we do? I’m up for anything. Exploring a spooky abandoned place? Picking pumpkins? Apple picking? Or you know, getting drunk and watching a shitty movie. Whatever you want, I’m game!” 

“Mmm, you might have the day off but I have to grade papers so unless your idea of “up for anything” includes you sitting here and watching me read essays, then I don’t know if I’m the right guy for you.”

“I can’t believe I just got fired…what am I supposed to do now…”

“Hey now, there, there. It’ll be okay. I’m sure you can find a new job just as quick as you were fired from your old one. I know a lot of places are hiring seasonally now so maybe you can take one of those up until you find something more full time, no?”

“Okay, since I’m like….the most indecisive person in the world, I need your opinion—” he paused for a moment, leaning back in his seat at the diner— his attention staying on the person opposite him in the booth. “Should I dye my hair dark brown? Or keep it red?”

Charles had a habit of eavesdropping on conversations that had nothing to do with him. It was something he had picked up in his years of teaching, simply just to make sure his students were safe and well, because he was slightly nosey. What else did he have to do, really? The hottest gossip that he’d get from the kids in 10th grade was the closest thing he had to drama in his own life. However, he was usually on top of not reacting to it but this time he really needed to. He turned in his booth and leaned over the seat to talk to the other. “I know it’s not my place to give random kids advice but uh, I think you should go with whatever makes you happiest. Or at least assess why you want to dye your hair. Is it a just for fun reason? If so, go for it. But if it’s for someone else or something like that, maybe it’s not the best idea. Just the 2 cents of a strange old man but you know.” Charles shrugged before sinking back down in his seat and returning his attention to his paper.

Beckett wasn’t sure if bringing Marshmallow had been an amazing idea or a terrible idea. On the plus side, she was the tiniest and roundest French bulldog puppy there, and everyone was fawning over her little stubby tail and her excited expression. On the other hand, she was so small and he found himself constantly nervous someone was going to trample her underfoot. He found himself eventually sitting on a bench, holding Marsh on his lap while she caught her breath (and he caught his), eyeing the fried dough kiosk down the way. “Maybe we’ll try for a little snack in a wee bit, love.” He told the dog, watching her tail wag at every person who walked by. “Or maybe I’ll just carry ya. Because… I definitely need food right now.” 

Charles wasn’t too over the moon about the fall festival. This would have been something he would have loved to have done with his kids. While they might have been too old or too cool for the festivities, at least they could have made cynical remarks together. After walking the whole lot, Charles plopped down on a bench and sipped his hot cider. Might as well people watch. After a few moments, he could hear the other person on the bench speak. “Uh, are you talking to me or...”

“I just don’t see what the big deal is. Whenever I tell someone I’ve never had a caramel apple, they act like I just brutally murdered a man right in front of them. I don’t like bein’ sticky and it just sounds like a big mess. I mean, ain’t it?”

“Eh, it’s one of those things that’s worth trying once just to say you’ve done it but in reality, it’s highly overrated. Much like the pumpkin spice latte. It’s really not that dramatic but I get it. I don’t care for them much, gets stuck in my teeth and what not. But my daughter loves them. It’s the only way my wife and I could get her to eat apples as a kid.”

Relationship Headcanons

Thoughts on Charles?