I Know I Sound Like Your Mom But You Kids Need To Stop Fucking Vaping

10 Things ALDIS HODGE Can’t Live Without ❘ GQ

a lot of ghosts seem to loom over the talbot family — whether dead like jacob thorne and his uncle or alive but dead to the family like rebecca. it's something griffin could feel since the moment he could conceptualize the family he came from. it's even heavier, now, with the loss of kirby, a thick layer of fog over the talbot family. when he sees his dad, griffin takes note that he looks different somehow. not the powerful, figuratively towering man he's known his whole life, there's an air of something he can't quite identify and it's a little bit terrifying. he locks eyes with nathan, chewing at his lower lip, "i... i don't really know." he admits, shoulders tense and brow furrowed, "i don't get it." he shakes his head and pauses a moment, shifting from foot to foot anxiously, "what happened, dad?" he asks, feeling like he's seven again and asking why the sky is blue or why gophers live in the ground or any other question he's asked nathan or charlotte. they're supposed to know all the answers, right? even now when griffin knows better, he still wants an answer even if it's not possible.

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲.　the talbot residence. 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻.　10am. 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵.　griffin talbot. @chappcdlips

〔　🦂　〕　　...　　𝗶𝘀  𝗶𝘁  𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳  𝗼𝗿  𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁  𝘄𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴  𝗵𝗶𝘀  𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁  𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻  𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲  𝗮𝗻  𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗿?  despite  his  familial  ties  to  kirby,  she  was  more  colleague  than  kin,  the  only  string  connecting  them  being  his  sister  —  her  mother  —  with  whom  they  both  were  too  estranged  with  to  ever  consider  a  genuine  bond  together.  the  age  old  cliche,  i  should've  done  more,  sits  in  the  back  of  his  head,  but  would  he  have  really?  or  is  he  only  thinking  it  because  he  no  longer  has  the  choice?  his  breath  hitches  when  he  hears  griffin's  footsteps  padding  down  the  staircase,  not  yet  quite  ready  to  face  the  situation  with  his  youngest  son. not after what he's seen and been through.  “  i'm  sure  you've  already  seen  the  news.  ”   it  was  inescapable.  like  driving  past  alaina's  house,  or  seeing  the  missing  posters  with  daniela's  face  plastered  all  over  town.  “  how  are  you  feeling?  ”  he  asks,  voice  dropping  to  a  gentle  whisper.

"yeah, if you're a masochist who wants to get your heart broken, a mess is alluring." and she had plenty experience with that sort of attraction unfortunately, but it always made for a good story and isn't that what really mattered at the end of the day? "alright, alright, relax, i'm just giving you shit. the article was fine, bash. not a lot you can fucking do in this sort of situation." shreya shrugged before taking a long drink of her dirty shirley. she stirred the straw around, tilting her head to the side and humming, "i mean, i'm glad i didn't have to write it." she'd rather stick to the not highly publicized stuff. she was, of course, a self-proclaimed personality hire.

THE SMOOTH BUZZ WAS a lazy attempt to rid of any frustrations vibrating within his body. the whole town felt on edge, ready to fall at the slightest drop of a pin. he shrugged at shreya's rebuttal nonchalantly. ❝ never mentioned beauty , some people would argue even messes can be alluring , ❞ he meant that truly, even if it wasn't relevant for the woman side him. what were humans if not all poetically broken? still, the dig at the headline caused his lighthearted mannerisms to tighten. it wasn't something he was particularly proud of, which was unfortunate considering he was rather protective over his work. but news came out, deadlines were due, the opportunity was painted in red that now stained his hands. ❝ right , like i had a fucking choice . ' hey bennett , can i take the day off to mourn this latest tragdy ? ' ' yeah , let's just shut down the register for the day . ' that sounds practical . ❞ he mused with irritation, rolling his eyes in irritability as he downed his drink in response.

fawn nearly snorted at kaz's attempt to be rude to her, a clever smile curling her lips as she looked him up and down patronizingly. he almost made it too easy. she clicked her tongue, "nah, buying food to drop off at my place. money's tight, my friend," she sighed, "sometimes you gotta watch your own back. but feel free to waste your money on charity. least you can do considering where ya work." she flashed a faux sweet smile, grabbing a box of cinnamon toast crunch and tossing it into her cart. "but be sure to tell june i said 'hey.'" she teased.

"i'm buying food to drop off at finch and june's apartment. is that what you're doing too?" he was never good at being mean, being the bad guy, provoking someone. he preferred to sit and watch, bide his time until they confessed to him. but he couldn't resist himself, add a little quip as he ran into fawn at amrak.

@chappcdlips

If I don’t drive you crazy then what’s the point

ALEX CROSS

Cross - 1.01 The Hero Complex (2024)

"hey, al." a smile spread across her lips, warm and inviting and practically the opposite of how she looked at pretty much any other member of the yalçınkaya family. and it wasn't fake (not mostly anyway), fawn actually did happen to like alara. she especially liked the attention she gave her, never one to complain about the rapt attention of a beautiful woman. and, maybe, she secretly hoped her closeness with alara pissed off the rest of the other's family. fawn was petty that way. "i've been around. you know me, always busy with something." fawn hummed, falling into step beside the other woman, "you should come by sisters, that's where i'm most likely to be these days. or my house. i'd give you the grand tour." she gave a playful wink, sliding her hands into her coat pockets as a slight shiver travelled through her in the cold. she used this an excuse to slide just a bit closer to alara, "what have you been up to, huh? anything new with you? give me the life update." she didn't even have to feign interest when talking to alara, which was a little refreshing. the charm was turned on high, sure, but she wasn't acting when it came to alara at the very least. "we need to accidentally run into one another more often, i think."

@chappcdlips / fawn

from  childhood  ,  alara  had  been  boisterous  .  she  had  been  filled  with  a  confidence  that  had  been  mirrored  throughout  her  life  and  made  her  quite  challenging  to  parent  despite  her  deep  sense  of  affection  and  care  .  there  were  few  people  she  had  met  in  her  life  that  had  ever  made  her  feel  a  sense  of  nervousness  or  anxiety  ,  any  kind  of  underlying  whisper  of  being  a  little  bit  on  edge  .  she  was  used  to  leading  a  dynamic  or  at  least  being  on  equal  footing  ...  and  yet  with  fawn  ,  she  always  felt  slightly  on  the  outside  of  herself  .  it  wasn't  that  any  particular  thing  had  happened  during  their  shared  lives  but  al's  childhood  infatuation  had  never  quite  came  to  pass  -  her  wistful  nature  never  allowing  her  to  quite  see  what  was  really  there  ,  a  sense  of  awe  and  adoration  filling  her  every  glance  when  it  came  to  the  other  woman  .  she  supported  womens  rights  and  wrongs  .  true  feminist  to  the  core  .   "  hey  stranger  ,  "  not  that  they  ever  really  were  .  not  that  there  was  any  part  of  her  that  ever  wanted  to  be  .  not  that  she  didn't  sometimes  imagine  on  those  lonelier  nights  in  her  childhood  bedroom  what  fawn  might  eat  for  breakfast  in  bed  (  such  was  the  nature  of  a  childhood  crush  ,  you  had  to  be  careful  not  to  take  it  too  far  ,  even  in  your  imagination  )  .  "  i  feel  like  i  haven't  seen  you  in  forever  ,  "  maybe  she  should  have  said  spoken  to  ...  she  had  definitely  seen  fawn  ...  here  and  there  .  around  town  .  looking  very  ...  fawn  .

GERALDINE VISWANATHAN 2024, ph. Andrew Jacobs for Vanity Fair

She shuffled into the kitchen, running a hand through her messy hair as she took in the sight before her, "So glad it's you and not the goddamn Boogeyman." The timing of the joke is, admittedly, horrible, but she's never been subtle. "What time did you get here?" Shreya thought she might have heard something in the middle of the night, but she figured it was either her brother or her cat. If it was anything else? She was willing to face the consequences and die honorably. "Now, if I bought even a single piece of asparagus, I think the world might end. The Boogeyman, who is obviously surveilling me as one of the town's top journalists, could notice my change in pattern and suspect me of knowing something and BAM dead." She sat at the small table by the window, sighing dramatically, "And you wouldn't want that, right?"

Then, Shreya sobered slightly, resting her elbows on the table, "I'm surprised you don't have to work right now. Is it not all hands on deck?" She asked, already thinking about what she may have to write about the incident this coming week. "It's really fucking awful." And there's no way to get through it but to joke about her own mortality, obviously. "What's the sheriff saying? Anything?" She added, "This is all off the record, by the way, I'll save my scheming journalist bit for at least noon."

closed starter with: darshan and shreya (@chappcdlips) setting: shreya's home, 9am, the day after the incident

His eyes fluttered open, and a strangled gasp forced its way out of his painfully dry throat as he struggled to recognize his surroundings, but the panic settled as the comfort of familiarity took hold. It was Shreya’s couch, in Shreya’s living room, in Shreya’s home, where he’d let himself in at 3am after finding sleep impossible at his own home. Darshan wiped the trail of drool off his cheek, sitting up and stretching his aching back before wandering to her kitchen, opening the fridge- only to see a truly meager selection of food between the tupperware containers of his own leftovers. A stray carton of eggs saved the day, and he’d set off to make breakfast when he heard the shuffle of feet. “Hey, lazy bones. Did I wake you?” His voice was casual, but there was an unmistakable horror laced in every syllable. How could he shake the guilt? How could he cope with the relief he felt when he confirmed that the young girl found dead in town hall was not his family member? As if that made it better- that the loss was not his own. “You should really get some vegetables in your fridge, or something, you know. Even an apple, or a single piece of broccoli. Give your poor microwave a break, before it unionizes against you.”