#serialbride

standing  at  the  door,   paisley tie yet to be tied,  hannibal was only semi - dressed.      the  collar  of  his  white  button  up  was  laid  tall  along  his  neck  &  his  shirt  was  yet  to  be  tucked,    somewhat  fresh  out  of  the  shower  .        the  hair  was  already  neatly  parted  to  the  side.            

 ❛❛         you’re      .      .     early   .       ❜❜    

he’ll  allow  her  entry ,    no  matter  how  early  .       the  arrival  of  an  old  friend  was  always  welcome  at  his  table ,    but  hannibal  still  makes  a  show  of  playing  the  bashful  host  unprepared,   anyway .             

 ❛❛        you  look  positively  ravishing ,     my  darling.                 how  was  the  traffic  ?         terrible,    i  know .     ❜❜

@serialbride​​   →   we’re emo and soft

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆.   well,  that might be a serious understatement  —  that is an understatement  —  but maybe it she pretends it’s not so bad it won’t be.  at least her dad’s here,  that helps,  it offers someone else to help with mom   (   it’s rare that it’s not just her,  but she’s forever grateful for these occasions   ).   it takes a moment to process the fact that someone’s talking to her  —  it’s easier when she focuses on other things,  and she’s trying to keep an eye on her sister  —  so she’s a little startled as she turns to face the woman the voice belongs to.  “mrs whitly!”  her smile is immediate,  hints of relaxation letting her shoulders drop ever so slightly,  “i’m sorry,  i didn’t hear that.  would you mind repeating yourself?”  tired as she may be,  as much as she doesn’t want to be here,  lauren’s still capable of being polite.

     he’s  not  surprised  when  she  drops  in  without  a  call.  come  to  think  about  it  --  has  he  ever  gotten  a  call?  well,  it  doesn’t  matter.  he  gives  a  small  wave  with  the  licorice  in  his  hand  (  breakfast  of  champions  )  as  a  vague  gesture.  ❛  a  few  more  visits  and  i’m  going  to  start  to  think  you  like  it  better  here  than  at  your  own  house.  ❜  

𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆,   living like this  —  in all honesty?  she remembers all of it.  every detail,  good or bad,  and being here...  in this house?  it’s good.  it’s all good,  and that’s a fact that allows lauren to feel like she can breathe   (   that alone is something she’s grateful for   ).   the only thing she hates?  the obnoxious crutches keeping her propped up,  the absolute discomfort as she attempts to keep her bad leg from touching the ground,  the way they make a still healing wound on her side ache   (   though she’d never say that,  because a wheelchair would be so much worse,  and lauren’s nothing if not stubborn   ).   the worst part is that lauren’s completely certain that she’d be given absolutely no shit for sitting down,  but it’s been so long and while this house is familiar and safe  —  god,  she just doesn’t want to overstep.  she’s already here without any forewarning offered,  which is absolutely a faux pas in the community she’d grown up in,  but she can only hope a spontaneous visit might not be such a bad thing.

when she senses someone else in the room,  lauren doesn’t even allow time to assure it’s jessica before launching in,  “i know i should’ve called first or something,  i’m just so stir crazy,  and i needed to see people,”  an oddity for her,  but even an introvert needs to socialize,  “and this was the only place i could think to come.”         

"Women are attracted to bad boys, it’s a fact.” Marion shrugged and took a sip of her wine. They were at that point in the night where the drink started to settle in and the glasses blended together. She felt warm and tingly being able to let her filter slip as she talked to Jess. Maybe it was just the alcohol. Either way, it felt good.

“Women were all over him because of his talent and charisma but now? Now it’s because of his charisma and his crimes. That happened with Manson; marriage proposals all over the place. Have you checked Martin’s mail recently?” She gave a little eyebrow raise and smiled, quietly pondering what Jess would do if there was fan mail being sent to Martin. It made her glad that she wasn’t married.

@serialbride​ said:   →   ❛   oh  god ,  i  sound  crazy .  ❜

SOUR,  BY OLIVIA RODRIGO:  ACCEPTING.

“𝒊 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏,  𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆,”   she’s kidding,  though admittedly it’s difficult to say whether it’ll come off that way   (   isn’t it always?   ),   “you’re not crazy.  believe me,  i had to send someone to psych the other day because they were sure that i’d infected them with some alien disease.”  honestly,  lauren probably has endless anecdotes that would work,  but that’s the most recent so it’s the first to be recalled,  “so...  you’re definitely not crazy,  you know,  comparatively.”  is that another terrible joke?  yeah,  turns out she’s not spectacular at dealing with potentially emotional moments when they’re personal.  “i swear,  you don’t sound crazy,  jessica.  c’mon,  would i lie to you?”

@serialbride​

Acting as Jessica Whitly’s security detail had not been on Archie’s to-do list. But when an old friend from the early days of the task force, Gil Arroyo, asked him to do it as a favor, Archie couldn’t refuse. So he found himself stationed inside the massive house, terrified to move in case he broke something that cost more than his car. Opulence was not something he was comfortable with, and when he was uncomfortable, what he wanted, was pills.

Everyone knew Archie had gone to rehab for prescription painkillers. What they didn’t know, was that it hadn’t stuck. What they didn’t know was that he had his old brass pillbox in his pocket right now, with thirteen Vicodin nestled inside it. He had the pills. All he needed was a place to take them without being noticed. And in a house this big, that couldn’t be hard.

He wandered the halls for a few minutes, until he found a bathroom as big as his living room. He slipped inside, but didn’t bother to close the door. He would only be a moment, and he hadn’t seen anyone in the halls nearby. He took out the pillbox and put three pills in his mouth. He turned on the faucet and sipped water from his cupped hands to wash down the pills. Then he straightened up, pillbox in hand, turned toward the doorway -- 

-- and saw Jessica Whitly standing in the hallway, right in front of him. 

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