"yeah, If You're A Masochist Who Wants To Get Your Heart Broken, A Mess Is Alluring." And She Had Plenty

"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  .

attempting to get a cup of coffee before he headed home, cyrus was distracted by the voice beside him at the counter. he glanced over at soren, an eyebrow lifting, "it's because it's bad for you." he deadpanned, too irritated to actually put up any sort of act. his day had been too long and the statement too annoying. cyrus was practically pathological about how he treated his own body and so always thought that everyone else must hold themselves to the same standards, "your body is a temple. everything you put in it matters." cyrus explained, tone only really slightly pretentious, "you're too young to be messing up your body like that." he shook his head, "what is it? the aesthetic of cigarettes? not worth the smell or the diseases. trust me." he sighed, thanking the waitress as she set his coffee in front of him, "stick to caffeine or something. and don't start that damn vaping. we don't even know the long-term health consequences of that."

location: dolly's diner time: late afternoon status: open!

something about diners. greasy leather seats. overheard secrets tangled up with the clatter of forks. bitter, often stale coffee -- unless you got lucky enough to walk in when the place was mostly empty. unlikely. the kind of place where time hangs heavy, like it got tired and sat down to rest in the corner booth. red creek felt the same, like it had long surrendered to time’s weight instead of running alongside it. no reinvention, no salvation -- just a stubborn place clinging to people like mud after rain, or maybe quicksand, tugging until they sank without a fight. soren didn't have to imagine dark things haunting its bones when its effect where already laying there, sprawled out for anyone willing to see. maybe ancient spirits seeking revenge after having their forever homes suffocated with asphalt and cement. maybe nothing at all, just the weight of a town folding in on itself, vanishing into a fog you didn’t know you’d entered until it was too late. soren wouldn't flinch if someone shattered the silence with a lynchian scream -- sinister close-ups, faces trembling under the pressure of things better left unsaid -- right there in the diner, right as he staed at his gone stale coffee. and perhaps it was his obsession with intricate stories that blurred the line with reality, but twin peaks really didn't feel like fiction anymore; it was a blueprint, a warning for places like this, where the mundane teetered on the edge of surreal, where time sagged, like peeling wallpaper in a room sealed off for too long, and good people stumbled into band endings. even diners -- those greasy churches of familiarity -- could warp into confessional booths. soren let his face fall into his hands, elbows propped at the sides of the cup of coffee. if it had been steaming, it would've made a perfect shot. “ you know what's bullshit, ” he spoke as soon as he felt a presence next to him finally glad to push his inner monologue onto someone else, anyone unlucky enough to hear. he continued as his hands dropped to his lap, revealing a face worn thin by restless nights. “ the fact that they made it illegal to smoke in public places. especially diners. ” though it wasn't just diners. it was also cinemas, trains, pubs.... a beat. then two fingers lifted to his lips, mimicking the pitch of a cigarette between index and thumb. soren inhaled theatrically, face tilting upward as though savoring the hit. then, just as theatrically, he ground the phantom amber into an imaginary glass ashtray, the kind with ornate edges. clock. sound design coming from his tongue against his palate and he swat the phantom ashtray away, still dipped in his interactive daydream.

griffin looks up, slightly bewildered until he realizes it's mina, his heart rate lowering as he offers a sheepish smile, "if they check the cameras, i guess we'll see." he turns his book over onto the counter to scan her prescription. "hope i can trust you then. i can't afford getting fired." he teases, hopping off his stool to grab the cigarettes she requested. he scans them and slides them over to her, "these probably reverse whatever the medication is supposed to be doing for you, by the way." he's mostly joking anyway, he's not one to judge anyone else's habits, "though, i dunno for sure yet. i'll let you know the details when i graduate."' he tells her with a teasing smile. "do you need a bag?" he reaches for a small paper bag under the counter.

" ⸻ no greeting? does your manager know you're not following etiquette, hm? " it was her BEST attempt at sounding like a disgruntled customer, but the way she breaks into an easy - going grin soon after makes it more than clear that she was just kidding. of course, she didn't actually care. he could be trashing the place to his heart content and mina would still mind her own business. " don't worry your secret is safe with me... " she says as she stands in front of the counter then carefully places her prescription down on it and slides it towards him as she looks around. it was mainly a formality to make both of their lives easier, she couldn't be bothered to remember the FULL NAME of whatever pills she has to take in order to not feel like her stomach is dissolving itself. but she DID take them religiously. " just the usual for today... and, uh, a pack of cigarettes if you still keep them behind the counter. "

he looks up, eyebrows lifting slightly at angela and the bag of rocks, "shopping spree?" though, he slips the bracelet onto his wrist without question and doesn't state the obvious - that he doesn't think any of this will protect him if the killer really wants him dead. "do i have to keep the stone in my pocket for it to protect me? or can it protect me from my desk at home?" he picks it up, running his fingers over the surface of the black rock, "i dunno anything about this crystal stuff." he admits. then, he gestures to the bag, "i hope you got some protective rocks for yourself in there too. otherwise, i'm going over there and buying more." and despite the recent loss of his cousin, all the victims thus far point to angela being a much more likely target then him, especially with daniela still gone. "and, y'know, maybe some pepper spray for good measure? a taser? how hard do you think it is to get a functional taser around here?"

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲.　deer lake, around 7:30pm. 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵.　griffin talbot. @chappcdlips

〔　🦇　〕　　…　　𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹𝗮  𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘀  𝗮  𝗯𝗮𝗴  𝗼𝗳  𝗰𝗿𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝘀  𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻  𝗼𝗻  𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲,  having  gone  to  the  sisters  of  the  moon  popup  for  a  reading,  only  to  come  away  with  much  more  despite  her  disdain  for  the  fundraiser  in  general.  why  should  she  give  the  sheriff's  department  her  money?  she  doubts  that  they'll  make  good  use  of  it,  her  trust  in  them  has  been  dwindling  with  every  second  that  passes  without  any  updates  on  daniela.   “  here,  ”  she  mutters,  handing  griffin  a  hematite  bracelet  and  a  black  tourmaline  stone.  “  it's  for  protection.  i  wanted  to  get  you  a  few  more  things,  but  i  thought  it'd  be  overkill.  ”  she'd  never  admit  it,  but  there's  a  small  part  of  her  that's  a  little  paranoid.  her  sister  is  missing,  her  former  babysitter  is  dead,  and  now  her  best  friend's  cousin  is,  too.  despite  the  pattern,  the  killer  is  still  unpredictable  in  ways,  and  she  didn't  want  to  risk  anything  before  it's  too  late.

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

HA DO YEONG eating his salad (& her ass up with that response)

THE GLORY - EPISODE 11

joining the war on “pretentiousness” on the side of the pretentious

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

cyrus ends up at the church due to his need to be involved, to be seen, and he knows that when tragedy strikes? there will always be people that take solace in the lord. and there are always people more willing to talk after a tragedy and cyrus is always willing to endear himself to new people for his own sake, for his own reputation. even in tragedy, perseverance is important, he thinks. he looks over at santi as he speaks, a sigh leaving his lips, "some people cane be your neighbor and still be a stranger. i'm sure she didn't hold it against you." or maybe she did. cyrus certainly didn't know kirby. "and i bet you never forgot after she told you, right? so i think you're settled up."

🗝️ open to all. 📍 redemption chapel, jan 24th.

the news breaks, as does half of red creek alongside it. there's an unfair lump lodged in santiago's throat. he wasn't close to kirby ; her death was not his to mourn, and yet ... he sits in the back pew of redemption chapel, hands wound in his hair. it was between here & the cemetery— the weather chose for him. he breathes in, has a hard time breathing out. halloween night plays through his mind. ❝ i asked about her name. ❞ he wants to laugh at the memory, but doesn't have the heart. a puff of frustration leaves him instead, ❝ grow up in a box like red creek & i still had to ask for her name. jesus– ❞

embarassing to want things like love and attention