#Carlton Picture Hanging

[thespiritssaidso]

Lassiter's Favorite Scent

Summary: Shawn takes Lassie to Bath and Body Works

Notes: Couldn’t stop thinking about this one the moment I saw it. 

Flufftober day 3: Favorite Scent

—————

“Tell me again why we’re here, Shawn?”  

“I ran out of my special pineapple lotion. But that’s not the only reason. We’re here because you still have yet to discover the wonderfulness of Bath and Body Works!”

Lassiter groaned. He shouldn’t have told Shawn about that. It just kind of… slipped out. Shawn had been talking about how he needed to go to the store and was going on about how the layout was nice, even saying “Well, I’m sure you already know about the special display they usually do in the fall.” 

And of course, Lassiter told him that no, he had no clue what Shawn was even talking about. 

One thing had led to another, and here they were, standing in the middle of the store in front of a small table packed with candles. Why there were candles at a store literally named Bath and Body Works, Lassiter would never know. But there they sat, looking as though fall had thrown up on the display. 

“Not that I don’t like spending time with you, but don’t you normally do this with Guster?” 

“Not this time. Gus said he got COVID, so he’s down for the count.” Shawn reached out and grabbed a candle at random. Autumn breeze. It was a light orange, almost a bit rustic in color. It looked like a leaf that had begun its change. “Here! Smell this one.” 

Lassiter lurched backward at the candle being shoved in his face. “Shawn-”

“Come on! Just one sniff!” 

“No, I don’t-” he stopped mid sentence when the scent hit him. It was surprisingly delightful. 

It took him back in time to a memory he’d almost forgotten. One of late October, picking pumpkins with his little sister Laura and watching over her as she played in the corn pit. He could practically smell the crisp air from that day over twenty years ago. 

Lassiter blinked, and he was back to the store. “Huh. It smells nice.” That was putting it lightly. It had a nice scent, and was very nostalgic. Although he wouldn’t list it as a favorite. It was good, but not ‘top three’ good. But if he had to buy it, there would be no complaints coming from him. 

Shawn, fluent in ‘Carlton-ese’ — that’s what he called it — seemed to be able to tell exactly what Lassiter was really saying. “Okay then, how about this one?”  

Yet another candle was shoved in his face, and Lassiter couldn’t help the automatic recoil. It was another orange candle, but a bit darker in color. The label had a picture of a pumpkin pie. Pumpkin Spice. 

He took a whiff, and was once again taken back to another memory, one more recent this time. He was eating pie with Shawn, one the same shade of orange as the candle, and covered in whipped cream. He didn’t stop the small grin growing as he remembered that moment. 

“Yeah? Good?” 

Again, Lassiter blinked away the memory. “Mh. I think I’ll look around myself.”

Shawn shrugged. “Alright, just don’t eat any of the samples, that’s not what they’re there for.” He put the cap back on the candle and set it back on the display. 

“I- that was one time!” But Shawn had already left, presumably knowing exactly where he was going. But Lassiter could tell by his gait that he was only pretending. He watched as Shawn confidently strode in what was probably the wrong direction and mumbled to himself, “The label was misleading…”

Lassiter wandered away from the fall display and towards the walls, where the more generic scents were kept. Blues and whites and pinks… shelves upon shelves of lotion and body wash and candles and even perfume — with a small section set aside near the entrance for cologne. 

Picking a direction at random, he walked over and grabbed the first bottle he saw. Fresh Laundry. It was sky blue, and the label had a picture of a white towel hanging on a line, flapping in the breeze. 

He popped the cap off and gingerly took a sniff. Yup. That was definitely clean laundry. It was fresh, too, which was extremely impressive. 

How the hell did they do it? Some of the scents here weren’t actual objects, but rather concepts of a scent. In fact, just to his left he could see one labeled On the Horizon, whatever that meant. But he was pretty sure that if he smelled it, he would understand. 

He set down the little bottle and stalked off. Lassiter couldn’t see where Shawn had gone off to. You’d think someone like him would stand out in a place like this. But nope. It was as though his boyfriend could suddenly blend into the blue and white surroundings like a chameleon. Or a spy. Hmmm, Shawn as a spy… probably not, for the safety of everyone. 

As he walked away, Lassiter noticed a small group of teenagers off to the side, just out of the corner of his eye. They were talking to each other in hushed whispers, giving him looks every now and then. 

At that moment, Lassiter had never felt more embarrassed in his life. His face burned, and he felt redder than the Candy Apple scented body wash just to the right of him. What was he even doing here? Why was he by himself? He looked like an idiot. Where was Shawn? 

A hand on his shoulder broke him out of his slow spiral, and with it a scent he was familiar with. Cheap cologne mixed with the smallest hint of tropical fruit. And there was Shawn, looking as handsome and goofy as ever. 

“Hey Carly! Sorry that took so a bit. I had to fight off some old lady with a bad perm for the pineapple body wash. But I won! Look!” He dug through the white and blue striped bag and pulled out a yellow bottle. The label was, of course, of a pineapple. Specifically of one laying on a beach chair sitting in the sand. 

Lassiter looked back and saw that the group of teens had disappeared. He turned to Shawn again and nodded. “Great, let’s go.” 

Of course, Shawn noticed the change in Lassiter’s attitude. But he said nothing about it, instead choosing to change the topic. “So, did you find something that smelled good?” 

“Actually, yeah. Yeah I did.” And it was standing right next to him, holding his hand as they walked out of the store. 

———

ao3 link

[slippinmickeys]

Prompt: ballet slippers, chocolate pudding in a can, Wyoming

The house, when they walked in, was like nothing she’d ever seen before—striped wallpaper on the ceiling, paisley carpet on the floor, a circus worth of color on every surface. It was like a Carlton Varney fever dream; like a brothel with aspirations. Mulder actually paused in the doorway and leaned back out to double check the address number on the side of the house.

“Wow,” Scully said, daintily setting down her suitcase a few feet inside the door. She wanted to make a joke, but Mulder looked appalled.

“We can go home,” he said quickly. “We don’t have to stay.”

His tone was such that she suspected he might be on the verge of having a panic attack.

“I was promised a weekend away,” she said calmly, reaching past him to close the door. She took his own suitcase from his hand and set it down next to hers.

“Anyway,” she went on, “it’s just a place to…sleep.”

With that his attention returned to her and she thought she saw his cheek tic, threatening to smile. Giving him an arched eyebrow and a squeeze of the hand, she turned away from him to explore the flat, curiosity overtaking every other impulse.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “The reviews were great.”

Scully sauntered over to the corner where there was a small kitchenette; bright green cabinets, a hot pink coffee maker. She opened up a cupboard. The inside was lined with contact paper featuring a cornucopia of citrus, upon which sat a single can of chocolate pudding. Scully didn’t recognize the brand.

“Quaint and cozy?” she asked, turning back to him.

“Whimsical and fun,” he said sheepishly.

She had to resist the urge to laugh.

Mulder finally spurred himself into action, reaching up into the nearest lamp and giving it a few futile clicks. When it failed to produce light, he began hunting along the wall for a light switch. When he finally found one, he flicked it, and it was then that Scully’s gaze was pulled upward.

Hanging from the ceiling fan was a pair of soft pink ballet slippers, tied to the blades by their satin ribbons. As the fan began to move, roused into motion by Mulder flipping the switch, the slippers began to turn, toes out, spinning gracefully in a perpetual arabesque.

Scully smiled. “Cute.”

“I’m afraid one’s going to come flying off and kick me in the face,” Mulder said, eyes still dubiously skyward. “And I already feel weirdly beat up.”

Scully ignored him and casually continued her tour of the flat, passing by a rather tame painted landscape of rocky mountainous outcrops, the script underneath reading Jackson Hole, Wyoming. However, as she continued to walk past it, the picture gradually changed in a holographic effect, revealing, when she got to the other side of it, a painting of a woman lounging provocatively spread eagled, her fleshy breasts exactly mirroring the Tetons of the landscape. Scully paused to squint at the cursive label, which now read simply Wyoming Jackson’s Hole.

She couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“What?” Mulder called from across the room.

“You’re going to like the art,” she told him, approaching the only other doorway in the place, which had to lead to the small apartment’s en suite.

She pulled up short. The bedroom was just as outlandishly decorated as the rest of the flat, but the room’s main draw was an absolutely palatial four poster bed, curtained on all sides by bright red velvet with fringe, pulled back just enough to reveal a monolith of a mirror tucked into the canopy.

Mulder came up to stand beside her, huffing out a long whistle.

“This in the reviews?” she asked him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“The term ‘whimsical’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting,” he said. “But no one mentioned the bed was a mirrored grotto.”

Scully felt for him—he’d been excitedly planning this for weeks. He’d promised to take her out of town for a quiet romantic getaway. She would not let him sink into a funk over something as trivial as heinous decor. She ducked out from under his heavy arm and took him by the hand, pulling him into the room.

“Do a little heavy lifting yourself,” she said suggestively, “and we can field test the term ‘fun.’”

He finally cracked a smile and followed her into the room.

[rcreveal]

The Trouble with a Keen Manager

A canon typical story set in the early 1990s just barely pre-Anti Christ S1 where Crowley loses most of his powers and needs help from new friends and old while he fights to regain his old power and autonomy...and just not to get discorporated! Banter, humor, drama, pining. Ch 1 of 22: This one is finished, so I won't leave you hanging, too long. Psst-Crowley in a kilt most of the story...

Chapter 1:

Aziraphale puttered about his bookshop dusting the stacks and looking over at the door from time to time. Drifting past his desk, he glanced at a book seller’s catalog laying open with colored ribbons marking his new purchases. Humming to himself happily, the angel’s fingers hovered over one of his most anticipated new selections.  Then he shook his head and set himself off to reorganize the Jane Austen.  Every time a new movie or television adaptation came out he had to guard his first editions from the depredations of the book buyers!

Oh he just couldn't wait!

Recently…

Crowley toyed with a self-addressed order postcard of the kind that might be “blown in” to a magazine or journal.  The kind of postcard that was an advert for double glazing, questionable self-care products, guaranteed cubic zirconia jewelry, and books not yet available in local shops.   They’d fall like raining frogs out of the magazine of the poor soul that just wanted to pilfer a little look at an article without buying the whole magazine AND they were each little temptations!  It’d been wicked fun suggesting ‘blow ins’ to the advertising blokes.  The little irritation to millions of people forced to wrestle with scooping up the pieces of paper or being inveigled to litter was a bonus for his reports.  Sometimes he’d sit across from a magazine stand just to watch it.  

Crowley had been sitting on a bench across from a magazine stand smiling to himself as the blow ins fluttered down, seeing the familiar crease between the brows and shuffled stooping and swatting for the little cards.  They even got away from people purchasing a magazine.  Littering thus tarnishing an otherwise upright citizen.  The rather excitable university student with the baggy jumper over baggy non-descript pants hadn’t noticed the card falling out when she’d stuffed the magazine into her bag.  From over the road it looked like she was taking home a deadly dry scientific journal of some sort.  During a lull in shoppers, Crowley had poured himself up from the bench and sauntered over to see what adverts had added to the litter on the city street, grinning to himself as he riffled the debris with his pointy toed shoe.  It was another bad day for double glazing!   Leaning over to see what sort of advert could possibly be in that dry old magazine, his fingers closed over the little bit of cardstock he’d marked falling from the student’s bag.

Flipping the little card over, he’d let out a ‘huh’ as he read the advertisement over the top of his sunglasses to better see the colored picture, looking more like a middle aged man who’d eschewed his readers than a debonair demon.  Pocketing the card, he wondered if he might just find a copy there…where had they moved now?  Oh, right, Carlton House Terrace, he turned to cross St James Park.  He could do with a brandy and they still had a clubroom there, surely.

Well that was a disappointment.

The tea room choices weren’t exactly what he’d remembered from the Royal Society, but the zip and tingle of all the thinking going on in the building was headier than most vintages as he meandered through the public exhibits.

“Pardon me, but would you carry this book?” Crowley asked the young man at the Royal Society book shop, flipping the card in front of his nose.

The fellow peered at the little card in Crowley’s hand and a smile broke over his face.  “Oh, I am so excited to see this one, sir!  Can’t wait to get my hands on it!”

“So, you don’t have a copy here?” drawled Crowley.

“Nooo, sir, that’s an American publication.  I don't know when we’ll get a copy.  You could ask your local bookseller to order one for you, if you don't want to wait,” the young fellow added helpfully.

A slight grimace on his face, Crowley pocketed the card again, “Thanks anyway,” waving a couple of fingers at the building,  “Like what you’ve done with the place,” Crowley sauntered away affecting nonchalance.

But the demon was thinking, ‘Yeah, he might, but…nah, not worth the risk.’ Crowley had rarely asked for anything from him outside the bounds of the Arrangement, and the business with the holy water made him even less likely to expose himself like that again even on a much smaller scale. Definitely not right now.  There were other ways.

The advert marred the perfect black austerity of Crowley’s huge desk.  It was a temptation, so that should be alright, plausible deniability and the like.  Pity Crowley was currently the focus of the temptation.  Worse, he could feel the laconic eye of the Pit on him more often these days.  Someone seemed to be going through a keen phase, so he’d been toeing the line more than he liked lately.  Made more difficult by some of the recent administrative changes.

Running his thin fingers over the address side of the card, Crowley pushed the card away and strove not to look at it.  Failing that, grumbling in the back of his throat, Crowley flipped the card over and let his eyes rangehungrily over the advert.  Holding the card up to eye level he looked at a red and yellow swirl on a deep black background and ground his teeth.  

A fruitless day of calling booksellers found that no one was planning on getting a copy of the book he wanted anytime soon.  Most had asked if he had inquired at the Royal Society.  

As he worked through the Book Sellers listed in the Yellow Pages from A to Zed (skipping the first shop listed under A, of course) some of the older shop owners started to offer ‘helpful’ suggestions.

“If it’s an unusual book that you’re after, you should check out A. Z. Fell’s in Soho.”

“You know, that Mr Fell gets books from across the pond pretty frequently,” another offered. 

“Mr Fell has connections for discerning patrons like yourself.  I can give you his number, if you like.”

After a few more exchanges like this, Crowley’s frustration was rising, as was his speculation that ‘Mr. Fell’ might not have always been entirely above board with his book collection.  With rising spirits, Crowley imagined the ‘dangerous’ ideas hidden in books and pamphlets banned over the years now lying in wait in the dusty corners of the book-hoarder’s shop to spring upon some unsuspecting mind.

Finally accepting that no bookseller in London was getting the book any time soon, he dialed the angel’s phone number by memory.  But he still had to figure out a way to get the book without letting his traditional adversary know it was for him.

***

Aziraphale strolled into St James park with interest piqued, just stopping to pick up a bag of breadcrumbs before making his way to the lean figure of Crowley who stood over by the pond with hands deep in pockets staring at the ducks.  Walking up to the duck pond some way away from the demon, Aziraphale started feeding the ducks and by pure happenstance, I assure you! drifted down to stand next to Crowley.

Without looking at him, Aziraphale murmured, “It’s been a while!  How’ve you been keeping?” politely, but a little cooly.  The angel had not cared for finding his home city surrounded by the dread sigil odegra.  Aziraphale didn’t much care for motorways in the first place, (too fast) but he suspected that Crowley might have had something to do with the M25 turning into an evil prayer wheel.

Making a sour face, Crowley replied, “Nnggh, gotta new manager.  Keen.”

“Really?  Keen how?” Aziraphale asked blandly.

Crowley grunted, “Some actual new ideas!” he said, sarcastically, “Memos requesting line item audits of miracles performed and how each upheld the glorious Great Plan for Satan’s supremacy.”

“Oh, that’s a blow,” Aziraphale replied solicitously.  “Home Office did that to me once.”

“You? Why?” Crowley replied, surprised.

“Said I’d made too many ‘frivolous’ miracles.” Aziraphale explained.

“Yeah?  Why would they say that?” Crowley replied with a little sarcastic smile, reminded of all the little restaurants and cafes the angel enjoyed.  Remembered rescuing Aziraphale from the Bastille when his miracles had been cut off.

Aziraphale hmmphed a little, turning to cast breadcrumbs in front of the demon, and noted the unaccustomed shabby look of Crowley’s clothing and his shaggy, tousled hair, it couldn’t be said to be a style (which wasn’t actually true, Kurt Cobain fans would have considered Crowley’s hair the height of fashion, except that they didn’t do high fashion).  That was odd.  Crowley kept his wardrobe pristine and took more care with his coiffure than Aziraphale.  

“Did they, ah,” Aziraphale inquired delicately, “‘Tighten the purse strings’ on you?”

After blowing out an expressive snort, Crowley slouched further, turning this way and that, “I’ve had to maintain clothing!  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to maintain silk while performing assignments in a rainy environment!?”

Raising his eyebrows and rolling his eyes to the side, Aziraphale smiled a tiny smile and said, “Well yes, dear boy, I do have some little facility in that department,” which the demon knew very well.  They’d had endless little disagreements about why Aziraphale kept his clothing fresh and tidy the human way and Crowley constantly cheated with miracles.  So, something was definitely amiss, but what?  “Why don’t you come by later and I can give you some tips.”

“Dunno.  It’s like someone’s staring at my back all the time!” 

So they would have to be extra cautious, “I’ve just gotten a new wine in from the New World, supposed to be rather special?”

“Mmmm,” Crowley wasn’t going to risk Hell’s new attention for a Pinot Noir.

“And a Scottish single malt.”

“MMmmm, yeah, alright,” Crowley acceded.  Risking Hell’s attention for whiskey was another matter.  The angel only drank that particular type of ‘demon drink’ with him.

“Well I’ll be off then,” Aziraphale said airily, passing just in front of Crowley as he walked purposefully out of the park.

Turning back to the ducks after the angel’s abrupt departure, Crowley looked down, only then noticing that Aziraphale had tucked the half empty bag of breadcrumbs into his pocket.

Shaking his head with a warmer smile on his lips, Crowley took out the bag and enjoyed feeding the ducks.

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 21

word count - 2.6k warnings - Cursing, descriptions of injuries, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, mentions of torture. Summary: Lina and the team start looking for some answers…

"Hello, you've reached the line of the Divine Miss Penelope. How may I grace you with knowledge?" Penny says into her headset.

"Babygirl, I've got a bit of info for you for a change," Derek says buoyantly.

"Well, in that case, lay it on me, Hot Chocolate," Penny says with a grin.

"Turns out Ms. Wilcox is only visiting D.C., she's in town for her high school's 10-year reunion. She says she went to St. Matthew's High School, with the get-togethers being held at the Ritz Carlton. It seems she was attacked after the first night, with there being 3 nights all of their class gets together." Derek says.

"Hey, Lina, did you hear-" Penny starts.

"Way ahead of you, Pen," I say, having already pulled up the high school yearbook of the Class of '96 from St. Matthew's.

I let out a whistle and said, "Good God, I think this class alone kept Aqua Net in the black..."

Penny giggles and looks over the pictures. She lets out a breath and says, "Oh, this is a school for rich kids, isn't it..."

Seeing the yearbook pictures of Ashley Naldi and Jennifer Wilcox, I hum in agreement and say, "Yup, it's looking that way..."

Ashley Naldi is a pretty, perky blonde, with a million-dollar smile and accessories to match. Jennifer Wilcox is a cute and fashionable girl with jet-black hair and a naive and charming look about her. I then asked Derek, "Did she say anything about the group she used to hang out with in high school? Or anyone who didn't fit in?"

"Nothing on anyone who didn't fit in, but she did express concern for Ms. Naldi, as well as Sabrina Sadler and Lucas Davies, so we might want to check on them," he said.

"On it. See you when you two come back," Penny says, fingers flying over her keyboard as she searches for the two people whose names we've been given.

As Penny searches for the current whereabouts of the two people that Ms. Naldi is concerned about, I search for their high school photos, and I see that they are also rich-looking, popular kids if the amount of photos of them means anything. 

Sabrina Sadler is a redhead with a mischievous glint in her eye, a grin like a Cheshire Cat, and expensive shoes on her feet. Lucas Davies looks like the All-American boy next door; blond, broad-shouldered, and bearing a football in his hand.

I look through the yearbook, trying to piece together a reason for why the two women have been attacked, and for Ms. Wilcox's concern for the other two people. I come across quite a few pictures of them, and in every one, they are accompanied by a Roxanne Waters. She's a confident and glamorous brunette, with a cold, cunning look in her eyes. 

"Oh, hey, I found them both. It seems Ms. Sadler is staying at The Georgetown House, and Mr. Davies is checked in at Sonder Georgetown C&O," she says, sending the information to the agents' phones.

"Hey, Pen, you might want to take a look at these, I think there's a lot more to this than we first thought..." I say, and Penny rolls over to my screen.

"I think you're right. Seems like they were the 'it' clique..." she says, peering at the pictures on my screen, then scooting back to her computer. After a few minutes of tapping and clicking, she hums and says to me, "Lina, check this out..."

I head over and see that Roxanne Waters and Lucas Davies were not only Prom King and Queen but were voted Cutest Couple.

"Huh. Think something happened that made them kick Roxanne out of their group after this yearbook was made?" I ask Penny, heading back to my chair.

"That's my guess..." she says, taking her glasses off to clean them, then puts them back on to examine the yearbook more.

There's a knock on the door, and Hotch walks in. I look up and timidly ask, "Um, sir? I think we found a bit more information on this case."

"What do you two have for me?" he asks, waiting for me to continue.

"Um, well, there seem to be a lot of pictures of the victims with the two people Ms. Wilcox showed concern for. There's also one other person that's in every group picture that they're in. It's looking like Roxanne Waters used to be a part of this group as well, even having dated Lucas Davies. I don't know how substantial this is to pursue, but it just seemed...a little strange to me how there was concern for the three others in the group, but no mention of Ms. Waters." I say.

Hotch stands there for a few moments, seemingly thinking it over, then says, "That might be worth looking into. Aschebrooke, how would you feel heading to the hospital with Elle and Gideon for more questions?"

I take a breath then squeak out, "M-me?! Sir, are you sure?"

Penny turns and says, "I mean, you did figure out their friend group pretty quickly. Maybe there are some questions you can think of that could uncover some valuable information."

Hotch looks over at Penny, then back at me, and says, "Very good point, Garcia. Yes, Aschebrooke, I think it would be beneficial. It seems Ms. Naldi is awake and willing to talk to us."

"I-I-o-ok, s-sir. I'll, um, I'll get ready to head out with Agents Gideon and Greenaway, then..." I stammer nervously, pulling my notepad and pen out of my purse, then slinging the bag over my shoulder.

Hotch turns to Penny and says, "Garcia, I'm sure you'll be fine solo for a while?"

She nods and says, "Yes, sir. Lina, good luck, and see you when you get back." I give her an apprehensive smile and follow Hotch out as he leaves to go to the bullpen.

I scurry behind him and stand back as he says, "Gideon, Elle, Aschebrooke here is going to accompany you two while questioning Ms. Naldi. I think a...fresh perspective...could help get a few more answers."

Gideon gives Hotch a look, who nods back at him, then looks at me and says, "Well then, let's be on our way. I'll drive." As we head to the SUV, Elle asks me, "So, Lina, what's your line of thinking?"

Climbing in, I say, "Oh, um, throughout the yearbook, there was an array of pictures that show that there had been a seemingly tight-knit group of students: the 2 victims, Ashley Naldi and Jennifer Wilcox; the two people that Ms. Wilcox expressed concern for, Sabrina Sadler and Lucas Davies; and one other person, Roxanne Waters. The four women were all on the cheerleading squad together and were constantly photographed together. It also seems Ms. Waters and Mr. Davies were an item during their high school years. So it just strikes me as odd that there's been no mention of Ms. Waters."

"So, what kind of questions do you think will help us?" Gideon says while driving.

"Well, I mean, for one, start with asking about the friends and groups the victims hung out with in high school, and if no one mentions Ms. Waters, ask about her. Maybe also ask about the song lyrics, see if that holds any significance." I say, fidgeting nervously with my purse strap.

"Sounds like a good start," Elle says, looking over at Gideon, who nods and parks in the hospital parking lot.

After we get out of the car and head into the hospital, Elle asks the receptionist for Ms. Naldi's room number, flashing their badges when necessary. After getting directions, we head to the floor she's on, and as we get to her room, Gideon motions for me to enter first. I head inside, Elle directly behind me.

She then says softly, "Ms. Naldi, we're with the FBI, we're looking into what happened to you. If we could ask you a few questions..."

"I...yeah, sure, but I don't know how much help I'll be," Ashley says from her bed.

"How are you feeling, Ms. Naldi? Do you need anything before we begin?" Gideon asks, walking closer to her bed.

"I-no, no, they've been making sure I'm comfortable here. What did you want to know?" she says, leaning back into her pillow.

"Can you tell us what happened the night you were attacked?" Elle says, and I get my notepad ready.

"It was the first night of our 10-year reunion. I was heading back to my hotel after seeing a lot of my old friends, and I'd had a little to drink. I wasn't drunk though, maybe tipsy. Anyway, I was just about to head into the hotel when I heard this sound, it sounded like someone crying. I went to see if they were ok when I felt something hit me in the back of the head and I blacked out." Ashley says.

She takes a deep breath and continues. "When I woke up, I was in the alley, but no one else was there. There was a music box that said 'Open me' on it. As soon as I did, there was a bright flash, and I tried to put my hands up to shield my face. I guess I didn't do it fast enough, because I still wound up not being able to see anything."

"I could feel my hands burning, they felt like they were on fire, so I was trying to put them out. While I was doing that, I could feel myself being choked, and I tried to cry out, but I couldn't make a sound. I thought I was going to die in that alley, but whoever choked me only made me unconscious again. The next thing I know, I'm being brought here." she says hoarsely.

Elle looks over at me as I try to quickly write everything she's said down, then back to Ms. Naldi and gently says, "I'm so sorry this happened to you. Is there anyone you could think of that would want to do this to you?"

Ashley shakes her head, letting a small sob out. "I work at a fashion magazine, I didn't think that would earn me any enemies," she says, folding her hands in her lap.

"Who all were you with when you were at your reunion?" Gideon asks softly.

Ashley smiles for a fraction of a second, then says, "I mainly stuck by my high school best friends. We still kept in touch, though maybe not as much as I'd hoped. Their names are Jennifer Wilcox, Sabrina Sadler, and Lucas Davies."

Elle looks over at me, then at Gideon, then over to Ms. Naldi and says, "Ms. Naldi, Jennifer Wilcox was also attacked last night."

"What?!" Ashley cries. "Who...who would want to hurt her?! She was the sweetest person I knew in that school..."

"That's...part of why we wanted to ask you questions, Ms. Naldi. We've had to do some searching into your and Ms. Wilcox's backgrounds, and we're hoping you can provide us with a few more answers that could help us find the attacker." Gideon says, motioning for me to go ahead.

I clear my throat and tentatively say, "Um, Ms.-Ms. Naldi. I'm working with Agents Greenaway and Gideon here, and I came across a few things that I'm hoping you could shed some light on..."

Ashley turns to me and says, "Yes, Agent..."

I quickly say, "Oh, uh, I'm no-not an agent, but I am working to solve this. My name is Lina Aschebrooke."

"Um, ok, Ms. Aschebrooke. I'll...I'll try to help. What are your questions?" Ashley says, a bit uncertainly.

I take a quick breath and ask, "Did or do you know a Roxanne Waters?"

Her face instantly changes into one as if she's smelled something awful, then says, "Oh, Roxy. Yeah, she used to be one of my best friends in school. By high school, her already...distasteful temperament steadily got even worse, but about a month before graduation, our group stopped having anything to do with her."

"Did you see her at your reunion?" I asked, quickly jotting down her answers.

She sighed, then said, "Yeah, but I didn't say anything to her. Honestly, it looked like she was bitching someone out on her phone, so no one was going near her. She always had such a horrible temper, it seems that didn't change..."

"O-OK, um, do you think she'd be behind your attack?" I ask her.

She gives a short, mirthless laugh and says, "No. She wouldn't want to get her hands dirty, not like that. No, her weapons were her words. I can't tell you how many rumors she started in that school..."

"Do you think she might hire someone to attack you?" I ask her.

Ashley scoffs and says, "Y'know, I wouldn't put it past her? Not sure if she'd hold a grudge for this long, though."

I hum then say, "OK, um, one more question...the...your...where you were found...had...um, items nearby that, uh, are lyrics to a song. I was wondering if you've ever heard of 'My Lover's Box' by Garbage?"

She shakes her head, and I continue. "Um, i-if it's ok, I could play the song for you, see if you know it?"

"I-I guess..." Ashley says hesitantly.

I play the song for her, and her face just twists in confusion. "I've never heard that song before in my life."

I sigh and say, "Thank you very much for your time, Ms. Naldi. I wish you a speedy recovery."

"Thank you. I hope I've hel-" she starts, but is interrupted by a gasp from the door.

"Oh my God, Ash! What the fuck?!" a voice from behind us says. Turning, we see a redheaded woman and a blond man rushing into the room.

"Bria? Is Lucas with you?" Ashley says, reaching her hands out.

The two people race to her side, quickly embracing her in a huge hug. Gideon, Elle, and I slip out of the room and stand in the hallway, quietly going over what we've learned.

"So, what are we thinking here? Maybe Ms. Waters is holding a grudge, and figures the best time to exact her revenge on her old friends is after they've come back for the reunion?" Gideon says, rubbing his chin with his hand.

"Nah, you heard her, she wouldn't want to get her hands dirty. If anything, I could see her hiring someone to torture them." Elle says quietly.

"Um, excuse me, Agents?" a voice from behind us says. We turn and see the blond man from before walking over to us.

"Yes, Mr..." Gideon starts.

"Davies. Lucas Davies. Are you the ones working on figuring out who did this to Ashley and Jennifer?" he says.

"Yes, Mr. Davies, we are," Elle says, inclining her head.

"Uh, after Sabrina and I visit with Ashley, would it be possible to talk to you all? We'd like this...horrible person...caught, and if there's any way we could help, we'd like to," he says, looking back in the direction of Ms. Naldi's room.

"Of course, we'll be nearby whenever you're ready, Mr. Davies," Gideon says.

With a small, tight smile, Lucas heads back into the room. "Well," Gideon says, walking to some nearby chairs and motioning for us to sit down. "Looks like we'll be here for a little while yet."

Previous chapter

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Story masterlist

[deckerroosevelt]

Chapter 8, part 1

I tried to sneak into the house and to my room as quietly as I could. I didn’t want to wake anyone up but I also didn’t feel like talking to anyone. After I got to my room I inspected myself. No major injuries but a few scratches from glass and one piece of glass on my shoulder. I tried to take it out without a sound but as you can imagine, it was challenging. The glass had bit deep into my flesh.

   I cleaned them with water for now but I’d have to clean the wounds more properly tomorrow. But now I just want to sleep. My mind kept replaying the scream of Avery and the splash of blood over and over again.

   Avery was there tapping my shoulder out of nowhere. I got so scared that I rolled off my bed with my eyes wide open. The sun was burning them and I realised it was Treacher. I had fallen asleep.

   “Why so jumpy?” he asked, clearly teasing me but he had a concerned face. “But that’s not the question I’m here for. Where the hell have you been?”

   I had to take a moment to think what to answer. I was looking for Harding? I was chased by Avery who is definitely not Avery. Fully at least.

   “I was looking into a case.”

   Treacher looked at me for a moment. “Couldn't have informed me, could you?”

   “I thought about it but it wouldn't have been of any use. Better this way.”

   “What do you mean no use? I could have helped you. Heck, I could have come with you.”

   I don't know if I should tell him I was with him. Is he scared I saw Avery? 

   “I was with you in Dorking”, I state hesitantly. 

   I can sense the awkwardness hanging in the heavy silence. Treacher must have processed the information during that time but for me it was uncomfortable. 

   “No, I was literally alone there”, he tried to convince himself. “I was definitely alone.”

   “That's the impression I might give outside. The house makes you remember me. But you could say I don't exist out there.”

   The awkward silence was back. I had told him about this like a million times. Why was it so hard to process now? I wanted to go look through the papers I took but I didn’t want Treacher to know I actually went inside Avery’s house. He would’ve freaked out. And I needed to get that mobile phone and go snoop around London. I have so many things to do. I couldn’t stay there forever.

   “Look, I still have a lot to do. I really need to get going”, I finally stated. 

   “Could I help?”

   “No.”

   “Please?”

   “You’re too close to this.”

   That stoke his nerves and he stormed out of the room. But I was right, wasn’t I? He was way too close to this and it would just mess things up. I did the right thing.

   I got up and took the papers out of my bag. They had gotten a bit scrunched but they were mostly readable. There were many articles from newspapers, a few pictures, some handwritten and typed notes. There were even a few drawings that I had no idea what they represented. Many shapes and confusing lines. Some things popped from the mass of text to my eyes like blood in snow. Treacher’s name repeated a few times there and so did Decker’s. The familiar names I saw there were Carlton Harding and Avery Harding and they were everywhere. There were like every article that had the name Harding there. About the winery, Carlton’s interviews and disappearance and alleged cases of fraud, hygiene problems, everything. Most of them were something I had yet to see.

[jvstheworld]

My Ted Lasso Re-watch: S1E1 (part 3)

Pilot

Ted doesn't always get the hang of the new vocab, but he tries.

I love Roy Kent. He is one of my favourite characters and his use of swear words is perfection.

Did Nate give Ted and Beard Irn Bru?

I love the Tedisms. Makes him adorable.

Jamie is a prick and Sam is an absolute sweetie.

Axe body spray in the US is the same as Lynx in the UK.

Keeley is a wonderful character who is unapologetically herself and confident in her sexuality. I adore her.

Personalising the office, first off, pushing the desks together which might take up more space but it means you don't have to constantly turn around to talk. And also shows the Ted and Beard like working closely together. Next are inspirational sports posters and sport stars of the past. I can not name any of them.

Poor Ted, he needs to sleep, and that nap was the first time he has done since leaving Kansas.

Roy will be absolutely furious when won over, but he'll thank them for it later.

The 'Believe' poster. I have it as the background on my smart watch and as the background on my laptop but with Ted pointing to it while looking at Jamie.

I love Ted and Keeley's friendship. He doesn't get rid of the picture Jamie has in his locker, just makes it a bit more modest for the setting it is in. This is something Roy does later with one of the pictures Phoebe drew.

'I never know how to react when a grown man does...' is said by Keeley when Ted beat boxing, Roy when Ted does the Carlton, and by Chris Powell when Ted does his victory dance.

Earlier, Rebecca called Higgins the 'current' Head of Communications, and now we know why - he is being promoted to Director of Football Operations.

Higgins was complicit during Rupert's affairs. Does anyone else think that Higgins only went along with it out of fear of losing his job? Rupert is a very rich man who could make his life hell and make it hard for him to get another job elsewhere, so maybe Higgins did it to protect his job and continue being able to provide for his family.

The name on the gift basket in Ted's new flat is 'Coach Tim Lasso' because Rebecca doesn't actually care about him enough to get it right, but it's close enough that it could be seen as a clerical error.

Ted tries to work out the time difference between the UK and Kansas. It's a 6 hour time difference.

Ted in the shower. Ted is in the shower. The thoughts that went through my head when I saw this during my re-watch. Well, let's just say they weren't clean. And then the man is dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Honey... God damn, you're hot.

Why did Ted move to another country to coach a sport he doesn't know about? Because his marriage is struggling and his wife needs space. A lot of it apparently. He still clearly loves her, but the fact she can't say it anymore clearly hurts him more than he can admit. And it's just a precursor to what happens later on.

I have an overwhelming need to hug him whenever he is sad. Ted needs all the hugs. And to go to sleep, but the conversation with his wife is probably the reason why he can't.

[playhousemassacrez]

Since I saw you on my silver eyes cast post I just want to ask what are some of your headcanons on John, Jessica and Carlton.

I'm so glad you asked me!

The gang all exist in my AU actually! Since I'm not too fond of the Charlie books (The Fourth Closet being my least favorite cuz Willaim is not how I pictured him to be when he made Circus Baby for Elizabeth. Also, Elizabeth could've been used better), I decided that they should all hang out together, along with Elizabeth and Evan (they're teenagers in my AU btw!).

John is not Charlie's boyfriend, but he still remains good friends with her.

Oh, they all live in the modern times cuz I just felt like it.

Elizabeth and Jessica are gal pals!

I also gave them last names too.

John: Mitchell

Jessica: Peterson

Marla and Jason: Campbell-Roberts (Marla's dad married Jason's mom and it's all good)

Lamar: Davis

Carlton is still the son of Clay Burke, yes and that's fine. Carlton is my dumbass and I love him.

Jessica has light brown hair but did dye the ends of her hair blonde.

They also have favorite characters from Freddy's here too.

Charlie: The Puppet and Lefty cuz that's her siblings, Marianna and Sammy.

John: Freddy

Jessica: Bonnie

Carlton: doesn't have one unfortunately.

Marla: Maybe Chica?

Jason: doesn't like them at all LOL

Lamar: Maybe Toy Freddy?

I'm still working on them more so these will have to do for now (sorry if they suck)

[crazyblondelife]

Thinking Ahead to Spring with Boston Proper

The Destination Drop from Boston Proper is here and I want it all! From jackets to swimsuits, there is something for everyone in this collection! If you’re planning a getaway, you’ll definitely want to check it all out!

I love a military jacket and have several different styles hanging in my closet, but this cute Embellished Military Jacket from Boston Proper is my new favorite! The waist can be cinched in for a flattering fit and the gold embellishment on the front and sleeve make it right on trend! I’ve paired my jacket with 5 pocket cream jeans, also from Boston Proper. I find that jeans this color are so versatile all year long but especially in the spring! A simple sleeveless v-neck tee underneath is all you need along with a pair of sandals. Mine are from Cult Gaia from last year but I’ve linked a very similar pair. These have my most worn spring and summer sandals because they have a perfect heel height and go with everything! These are similar with a slightly lower heel! See below for more detail and a pair of platforms that I really want!

These pictures were taken at the Ritz Carlton Bal Harbor in Miami! This resort was such a lovely place to spend a few days…get some work done and relax a little! We thoroughly enjoyed the food, the service was amazing and it was so hard to leave sunny Miami!

I’m linking a few jackets for resort and spring that you’ll love in the boutique below! For some reason, some of the pictures aren’t showing up, but if you click on the box, you’ll be taken to the website…it’ll just be a surprise what you’ll see! I’m working on getting this fixed! Happy Saturday and thanks for reading today! Please remember…I love your comments!

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter eleven rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

In Case You Don’t Live Forever by Ben Platt

The next morning at 6 am, you got in a taxi and made your way to the airport. You packed up all your clothes the night before and told MJ to ship anything else to you. You figured if you waited until a few months, things between you and Peter would be settled and it wouldn’t be too awkward. Or sad. You mainly felt sad.

The sun was rising and your cab sat in stand still traffic. You wiped a few stray tears and looked out the window. You noticed a few people standing by the edge of the highway, taking pictures of the bridge. You couldn’t see because of the glare of the sun in your eyes. You figured it was a sky writer or something like that. But then you noticed people getting out of their cars to take pictures.

“What’s going on?” You asked the cab driver. He turned around. He was an older man with grey hair and thin, black tinted sunglasses. A kind smile poked out from under his mustache.

“There’s something written on the bridge.” He answered.

“Something on the bridge?” You asked.

“See for yourself. We’re not moving anytime soon.”

You got out of the car and squinted in the bridge. Your heart immediately stopped at what you saw. You walked towards the edge of the highway and leaned against the railing. Tears trickled down your eyes, happy ones this time. You blinked them away, not wanting anything to obstruct your view of the bridge.

There on the bridge in big webbed letters spelled out the undeniable phrase:

I LOVE YOU

Just as you were admiring it, Spider-Man swung down and swept you up in his arms. You heard applause and cheering as you two swung away. You held on tightly, as did Spider-Man. He landed on the top of one of the posts of the bridge and set you down, never taking his arms off of your waist. Likewise, you kept your arms around his neck and pressed your body close.

Peter quickly took off his mask and smiled at you. His eyes were puffy, surely from crying. But the loving look in his eyes remained.

“Did you get my message?” He asked excitedly.

“What message?” You played coy.

“On the bridge.” Peter said, not detecting your sarcasm.

“Oh, that was you? I couldn’t make it out. What did it say?” You asked. You knew exactly what it said.

“It said I love you.” Peter said proudly. “It was gonna say ‘I love you Y/n L/n please don’t move to San Francisco’ but I was on a time crunch and it’s very hard to write things on a bridge in webs. I practiced on the Brooklyn Bridge first and I accidentally wrote ‘I larb you.’ But that wasn’t what I wanted to say. What I wanted to say is, you’re wrong. You’re wrong about us being on different paths. We’re not on different paths, Y/n. Because you’re my path. I’ll give up Spider-Man. He means nothing to me if I don’t have you. I mean it. You and I are meant to be. If I know anything at all to be true, it’s that. I can’t imagine life without you. So if you go to San Francisco, I’m coming too. Hell, wherever you go, I’m coming too. They have crime in San Francisco, right? What I’m trying to say is, I love you, Y/n L/n. I am so in love with you. And nothing can keep me away.” Peter professed. You held him tighter and pressed your nose into his.

“I love you too, Peter Parker.” You whispered. “With all my heart.”

“Then will you stay with me? Or allow me to come with you?” Peter asked hopefully.

How could you say no? Every time you thought you could shut the door on Peter, he found a window.

“The world is rooting against us Peter.” You said. His face fell and his grip on your hips loosened. “But if it’s you and me against the world, then so be it.”

Peters smile lit up his entire face when you finished your sentence. He dipped you and kissed you passionately.

“I love you. I love you so much. I can never say it enough.” Peter said as he pressed kisses into your neck.

“I love you too.” You said back. You knew you should feel terrified given your fear of heights, but you couldn’t feel safer in Peters iron grip.

“Can we go home? I need to hold you for an entire day to make up for the time we were broken up.” Peter asked. You laughed.

“We were broken up for less than 8 hours.” You reminded him.

“8 hours of pure torture.” He fake gasped.

“Come on. Let’s get your stuff from the cab and go home. Did I mention you’re moving in? And that we’re getting married? Also what are we naming our children? Do you want it get a cat together?” Peter joked as he tightened his grip around your waist. A part of you hoped he wasn’t joking though. You wanted that with Peter. All of that. Even that cat.

“Does our apartment even allow cats?” You laughed.

“No.” He shook his head. “But if my baby wants one, we’ll get one. I want to start our lives now. I don’t want to miss another second apart from you. I’m serious. Never leave me again.” Peter said, tugging you into a tight hug. He nuzzled into your neck and pressed soft kisses there.

“I won’t. I won’t ever. I promise.”

Peter swung you back to the apartment after collecting your things from the cab. You spent the day in Peters bed just cuddling and talking about all the things you never could before.

“And then he told me you were going back to San Francisco to be with him.” Peter laughed as he told you about his encounter with Andy.

“I can’t believe he lied to you like that.” You shook your head. “He’s such an idiot.”

“He would’ve been a dead idiot if I had known he kissed you.” Peter joked.

“Hm. And I thought I was the only killer here.” You smirked as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“What are your powers?” Peter asked as he brushed your hair out of your face. You kissed his thumb lightly.

“Same as you. Super strength, super hearing, climbing walls. And I have acid spit and resistivity to bullets. But I don’t have your uh…Peter tingle.” You told him. Peter chuckled softly.

“It’s called my spidey sense.” Peter corrected.

“That’s really not much better than Peter tingle.” You teased.

“Shut up. What about your weaknesses?” Peter asked. You toyed with his fingers.

“Fire. And sound. We hate sound.” You said.

“All sounds?” Peter asked curiously.

“No. Not all sounds. Just loud ones. Car alarms, feedback, amps, things like that.” You answered.

“What happens to you when you encounter fire or sound?”

“What’s with all the questions? You’re not trying to take me down, are you?” You teased. Peter laughed and shook his head.

“No. I just want to know everything about you.”

“Well sound makes Venom separate from me. And fire kills.” You said, remembering that night on Carlton Drakes rocket when the fire killed him and Riot.

“Both of you die?” He asked nervously.

“Both of us. Venom and I keep each other alive. If we were separated, we’d both die.” You told Peter. Peter looked at the ceiling with a weird look on his face. His heart was beating extremely fast. You took it as him being scared of you dying.

“But don’t worry about that. Venom and I are never going to be separated. No one knows our weaknesses.” You assured Peter. You felt a little strange sharing all your weaknesses with your former enemy, but you knew Peter would never try to hurt you it use them against you.

“What about you? What are your weaknesses?” You asked.

“You.” Peter smiled. You smiled back before something shiny in his closet caught your eye.

“Is that a keyboard?” You asked as you sat up and went into his closet. Peter sat up as well and rubbed his eyes.

“Oh, yeah. I used to play when I was younger. My uncle taught me. Do you play?”

You retrieved the keyboard and sat on Peters bed, answered his question by playing a few notes. Peter scooted next to you and slipped an arm around your waist.

“Play me something.” Peter said softly. It wasn’t demanding, it was a sweet request.

“I haven’t in so long.” You muttered as you began to press down on a few random keys. The keyboard made strangled sounds at first until you slowly began playing a song you had fallen in love with.

“I, I’ve carried this song in my mind. Listen, it’s echoing in me. But I haven’t helped you to hear it.”

You sang softly as you got the hang of playing the keyboard again. Peter looked wonderstruck at you. He didn’t know you had such a lovely voice. He didn’t recognize the song but he wanted to hear you play forever.

“We, we’ve only got so much time. I’m pretty sure it would kill me if you didn’t know the pieces of me are pieces of you.”

You sang with a little more confidence as the song progressed. Your voice wasn’t great but it was everything and more to Peter. Peter began to pick up on the pattern you were playing and softly rested his hands on the keys on his side.

“I’ve waited way too long to say everything you mean to me.” you dragged out the last note before going all in on the keyboard.

“In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you now. I love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around.” You looked into Peters eyes and he looked deeply into yours. He leaned in so that his lips ghosted yours, but never touched.

“In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you the truth. I’m everything that I am because of you.”

You felt tears of joy pricking at your eyes. Peter felt it too. The moment was pure bliss. It was just you and the boy you loved. Nothing could ruin it.

“I have a hero whenever I need one. I just look up to you and I see one. I’m a man ‘cause you taught me to be one.”

Peter liked the hero line. It made the song perfect, like it was written just for the two of you. He had begun to play along with you and you finished out the song together, never breaking eye contact.

“In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you the truth. As long as I’m here as I am, so are you.” You finished. You and Peter took your hands off the keyboard and immediately pulled the other into a kiss. The keyboard fell to the floor with a clang but you didn’t even hear it.

“I love you. More than anything this world has to offer.” Peter said against your lips. You smiled and kissed him again. He tasted like strawberry chapstick this time. It was yours. He must’ve swiped it from you one day. You didn’t mind.

“Did you steal my chapstick?” You giggled against his mouth.

“Yes. But you stole my heart. Fair trade.” He argued playfully. You laughed and kissed his cheeks.

“It’s okay. You can keep it. What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is ours.” You told him as you ran your fingers through his chestnut hair.

“That’s so cute.” Peter whined.

“I know. I stole it from the Little Rascals.” You admitted sheepishly. He hit you with his pillow before tackling you onto the bed.

You spent the remainder of the day just like that until you had to leave for your final interview with Cletus Kasady.

“Y/n! My favorite gal. Sit down. I have so much to tell you. I got something real good for your story.” Cletus said upon your entry into his cell. You’d been interviewing him for about three months now. It was almost July and you two met in April. You had come to trust him and no longer needed a security guard to stand in the room with you while you talked. You also graduated from talking through those glass windows with telephones on either side to being allowed into his cell. He was still handcuffed to his chair and kept in a cage, so you had no fear of him harming you. You’d actually come to like him in a way. Sure, he killed people, but so had you. He was still charismatic and made you laugh every now and then.

“Nice to see you Cletus. What do you have to tell me?” You asked as you took a seat. Your eyes wandered to the partial wall at the bottom of his cage. You had grown accustomed to his habit of writing on his cell walls with his own blood, but this particular message made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. In big bloody letters it read:

WELCOME VENOM

You swallowed despite your throat being bone dry. Cletus gave you his signature smirk.

“I got me a bug. Just like you.” He drawled. He smiled at your proudly. You felt yourself beginning to sweat.

“A bug?” You asked.

“Are you familiar with the concept of asexual reproduction?” Cletus questioned. You nodded.

“Yes. It’s what plants do. Why?” You asked back. Where was he going with this?

“Not just plants. Symbiotes too.” Cletus stated. Your body went cold with fear. You immediately felt uneasy with the way he was looking at you. He didn’t blink, and had his face frozen with that smirk.

“Y/n.” Venom said cautiously. She held your hand and gripped it tightly for comfort.

“I’m sorry?” You asked. Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Yup. And sometimes, they don’t even know when they asexually reproduce. It could happen anywhere. Even in a prison cell.” Cletus continued. You began to piece together the story. Cletus suddenly leaned forward, as far as he could go with his restraints and lowered his voice.

“You and I are no different. We’re both killers. But you get to roam the streets freely while we’re stuck in here, starving. Does that sound fair?” Cletus asked. His eyes weren’t his anymore. They were milky white and bulging. You scooted your chair back in fear.

“No.” You said. You didn’t want to anger him so you agreed with him.

“No. It’s not. That’s why we’re breaking out of here. And when we do, there’s gonna be Carnage.” Cletus smirked, his eyes back to normal now. You trembled slightly.

Cletus Kasady had a symbiote of his own. One that was stronger and deadly than yours. At least Venom bonded to a reporter with morals. Carnage bonded with a serial killer. They made for a lethal combination and you knew you couldn’t stop the havoc that was coming.

“We want you to join us, Y/n.” Cleatus drawled. “You and Venom. Imagine the power we could have. The city would be ours. We could do whatever we want.”

You felt sweat running down the sides of your face as you carefully thought out what you said next.

“Thank you for the offer, but we have to decline. We’re not like you. We only kill very bad people. Cletus, you killed 17 women just because they resembled the girl who broke your heart in high school. We don’t see things the same way.” You told him slowly. Cletus’s face fell.

“I thought you were my friend. I don’t have any friends in here. Nobody wants to be friends with a serial killer. The only person who was ever nice to me was you.” Cletus said sadly. You let out a shaky breath. You felt a little sorry for him, despite his lethal intentions.

“I know and I’m sorry. But Venom and I aren’t killers.” You said in your calmest tone.

“Yes, you are. Whether you like it or not, you will always have to kill to feed. You’ve been a good person your whole life, Y/n. What has it gotten you? You told me about your parents. Did being a good person keep them alive? And what about Andy? You exposed Carlton Drake because you’re a good person, and Andy still broke up with you. Why not throw your morals away and just be the monster you were meant to be?” Cletus persuaded. Your fear turned to sadness quickly and hot tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I am not a monster.” You said angrily. “We are not a monster.”

“But you are. The sooner you realize it, the freer you’ll be. It’s your choice.” Cletus shrugged.

“We choose to be good.” You said firmly. Cletus gave you a disappointed nod.

“Carnage told me you’d say that. I told him you were different. I guess I was wrong. I’m going to be sorry to see you go.” Cletus said sadly.

“See me go?” You asked.

“Carnage said anyone who stands in the way must die. That means you, Venom, Spider-Man, and anyone else who tries to stop us from taking over New York.”

You felt sick to your stomach. Killing you was one thing, but Spider-Man? Peter hadn’t done anything to Carnage. Why was Peter a Target?

“Please don’t hurt Spider-Man. You can kill me but please, don’t touch him.” You begged. Cletus smirked.

“Looks like Carnage was right about that too.” Cletus chuckled.

“Right about what?” You asked. Cletus seemed to be conversing with Carnage in his head.

“Right about there being something going on between you and Spider-Man. I’ll do my best to keep Carnage away from him, but I don’t have much control. So no promises. Even though you let me down, I have a liking for you Y/n. You knew what I did to those women and you still agreed to write an article on me and hear my side of the story. Most people wanted to lock me up and throw away the key. Not you. You listened. We won’t hurt him. But we want a deal.” Cletus stated.

“What deal?” You asked bitterly.

“We want a battle. A fair one. Venom vs. Carnage. If you win, we’ll go back to Klyntar. But if we win, you become apart of our team and we destroy New York together, starting with everyone who got me thrown in this hell hole. Do we have a deal?” Cletus asked. You didn’t want to agree to it but you knew you had no other choice. Carnage was strong but he lacked the impeccable bond you had with Venom. You were confident in Venoms abilities in a fight. Your solemnly nodded your head.

“It’s a deal. When?”

“Tonight at midnight on top of the Oscorp building. Don’t be late.” Cletus said. Before you could answer, the security guard came in.

“The hour is up, Miss L/n. It’s time for Cletus’s meal.” The guard said. Your checked your watch. It was in fact 7 o’clock. The hour had gone the fastest it ever had. You shot Cletus one last look before you thanked the security guard and left. You could feel his smirk watching you as you went.

~

“Peter? Y/n’s at the front door.” May called from the kitchen. Peter perked up at the slightest mention of your name.

Peter went to his front door and saw you were still dressed in nice clothes for your interview. Peter loved your usual laid back style but he also loved seeing you dressed up. It reminded him of how bad ass you were.

“Hi.” You said shyly, noticing him staring.

“Hey.” He said back. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk in the hall?” You asked. Peter nodded gravely and followed you out into the hall. He shut the door behind him and turned to face you.

“Y/n-“ he began.

“I came here to break up with you.” You interrupted. Peter eyes snapped from the floor to your face. You didn’t seem upset. You seemed almost excited. Peter felt the opposite.

“Wh-“ Peter began but you cut him off again.

“Let me finish. I came here to break up with you. But I’m not going to do that anymore.” You clarified. “Peter, there’s a very bad man after me. I just found out that Carnage bonded with Cletus Kasady. He’s stronger than me, faster than me, and more deadly than me. He’s asked me to join his side and I said no. Now, he’s going to kill me. And he said he’s going to kill you too. I have until midnight until the fight.”

“Okay.” Peter followed along. “So what about the breakup?”

“I figured I’d come here and break up with you, and not just break up but really break your heart. I was gonna tell you I cheated on you and if that didn’t work I was gonna say I was using you to get over Andy and that I still loved him. All lies, by the way. My heart beats for only you. But I thought that if I made you hate me, Carnage would have no reason to go after you and he’d leave you alone. So that was my plan when I left the prison. But as I drove here, I remembered I wasn’t just dating some guy. I remembered was dating Spider-Man.” You said proudly, and Peter grinned.

“What I’m trying to say is, I believe in you. I know you’re strong and capable of anything you put your mind to. You’re extraordinary, Peter. And I don’t have to protect you, as much as I might want to. So, I did come here to break up with you. But now that I’m here, I’m asking you to fight Carnage with me. I want you by my side when I fight the biggest battle of my life. What do you say? Will you help me, Spider-Man?”

“I will.” He said confidently. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Thanks for giving me something to believe in.” You shrugged.

You spent the remaining hours before midnight coming up with a strategy with Peter. Soon enough, it was time to meet Cleatus on the roof. You and Peter swung there, shaking with anticipation as Cleatus arrived. You held Peter’s hand through this suit, still not in your Venom form. Cleatus looked between the two of you, and then at your intertwined hands. 
“Remember when you said I could kill you if I left Spiderman alone?” Cleatus asked through a wicked smile. Peter looked at you, confused as to why you would say that as you nodded.

“Well, I’d like to take you up on that.” Cleatus said as he morphed into Carnage. He grabbed Peter in a quick movement and threw him off the roof, leaving you alone with him. You ran in the director that Peter was thrown but Carnage caught you and dragged you to him, stepping on your neck to keep you down.

“Told you.” He snarled in your ear. “There’s gonna be carnage.”

[kjack89]

Hello! Me again, how about 34 for enjoltaire? x

Alright, y'all knew I was gonna go angsty eventually, and with this song...can y'all really blame me?

34. "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton

E/R, modern AU. Kindly refer to the tags for content warnings.

Grantaire yawned widely as he shuffled into the kitchen wrapped in a red terry cloth robe. He blinked blearily at the clock before going through the same motions he did every morning.

They were rote by now, having done this thousands of times, so much so that he almost fell back asleep as he went through his routine: slipping a paper filter in the coffee maker, pouring coffee grounds into the filter, filling the pot with water, pouring the water into the coffee maker, and, finally, hitting brew.

He stood at the kitchen sink as he waited for the familiar smell of fresh coffee to waft over him, waking him up just enough that he could finally reach out and grab the two coffee mugs from their hooks on the wall. His, a white porcelain mug that proclaimed in a fancy script, “There might be vodka in this���; Enjolras’s, a red mug boldly labeled, “First coffee, then dismantling white patriarchal power structures”.

Grantaire set his next to the coffee maker and carried Enjolras’s over to the red canisters that lined the counter, a wedding gift from Enjolras’s mother, who disapproved of both their union and their disorganized kitchen, apparently. He grabbed the second-largest one, pulling it towards himself and popping the top open with practiced ease before taking the scoop hanging from its side and scooping three heaping spoonfuls of sugar into Enjolras’s mug.

Satisfied, he returned the canister to its position before crossing to the fridge and grabbing the French vanilla flavored creamer, which he brought with him back to the counter.

By this point, the coffee maker was emitting the terrible groans and gurgles that signaled it was finally about done, and Grantaire sighed with relief as he poured first Enjolras’s mug, leaving plenty of room for creamer, and then his own, as close to the brim as he could without spilling.

With a practiced eye, he added creamer to Enjolras’s mug, stopping at the perfect point when the coffee was just turning more beige than tan. He returned the creamer to the fridge and then finally lifted both coffee mugs and carried them to the kitchen table.

He set Enjolras’s down first before slipping into the seat across the table. He blew on his coffee to cool it before taking his first sip, his eyes fluttering closed with the pure ecstasy that accompanied his first hit of caffeine.

Then the time for savoring was over, and Grantaire spent the next five minutes downing the steaming liquid as quickly as he could manage without burning his tongue.

His second cup off coffee was drained at a slightly less breakneck pace, and then Grantaire stretched and yawned. “Shower time,” he announced, picking up his coffee mug and Enjolras’s and carrying them to the sink. He set his empty mug inside before hesitating and then dumping Enjolras’s out, watching the barely still-brown liquid circle down the drain, just as he had every day for the past six months.

And just as he had every day for the past six months, he paused before leaving the kitchen, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he looked at the last good picture he had ever taken of Enjolras, stuck up on the fridge with a magnet shaped like a guillotine.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice hoarse, and he stared longingly at the picture, at Enjolras’s smile tinged with just a hint of exasperation as he had looked up at Grantaire, taking his picture for the hundredth time that day, the day they got Enjolras’s diagnosis.

It was a good picture.

Which was why he had chosen it for Enjolras’s obituary.

“I miss you,” he told the picture of Enjolras, frozen in time much the way his coffee routine now was. He hesitated, a thousand unsaid words swirling in his mind.

But in the end, he fell back on routine. “Remind me we need more creamer,” he said.

Then he went to take a shower. Alone.

- - - - - - - - - -

Some couples had a morning breakfast routine. For Enjolras and Grantaire, it was coffee.

Come rain, shine, or hectic schedules, they still made time every morning to have a cup of coffee together. Sometimes that time saw Grantaire perching on the counter in the bathroom while Enjolras gulped his cup in the shower; other times, it was the two of them in bed long past when they were supposed to get up, wrapped in blankets and each other. Some days those precious few minutes were the only time they saw each other, and they treasured it.

Even when Enjolras was out of town on business, they called or Facetimed each other to share their morning cup of coffee.

It was the one consistency in their lives that Grantaire could count on.

It was the one thing that he couldn’t bring himself to give up, even with Enjolras gone.

He knew it was silly, knew he was wasting money and coffee and whatever else, but he couldn’t imagine going to the grocery store and returning without Enjolras’s preferred brand of creamer. He couldn’t imagine not having to refill the canister of sugar ever three months because Enjolras preferred his coffee to taste disgustingly sweet.

He couldn’t imagine coming home from work to find only one coffee mug in the sink, waiting to be washed.

Even if he knew that Enjolras would never again sit at the table and drink his coffee, it gave him a moment, no matter how fleeting, of pretending like he would, of feeling like things were normal.

Grantaire didn’t think his heart could take it if he stopped.

- - - - - - - - - -

Grantaire had just taken his first sip of coffee when a knock sounded on the door, and he frowned. He wasn’t expecting company, after all, and most of his friends knew to ask him if he was up for visitors before stopping by.

He set his coffee down on the table and stood to open the door, blinking in surprise when Courfeyrac swooped in, air-kissing both his cheeks before brushing past him into the kitchen. “Hope you don’t mind us stopping by,” he called, as Combeferre gave Grantaire a somewhat bemused wave in greeting. “We just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Well, Courfeyrac wanted to, anyway,” Combeferre told Grantaire in an undertone. “I recommended we call instead, but…”

He shrugged somewhat helplessly and Grantaire managed a smile. “But he’s incorrigible,” he finished for Combeferre, following him into the kitchen. “Well, I know a little bit about what that’s like.”

Courfeyrac scowled at both of them as he plopped down at the table. “Excuse me for being worried about you,” he sniffed. “We haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been that long,” Grantaire scoffed.

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Weeks may be a bit of an exaggeration,” he allowed. “But still, like Courfeyrac said, we wanted to check on you. Especially since there’s this public art project that came up at the last Les Amis meeting, and I thought—”

“What are you doing?” Grantaire interrupted loudly, and Combeferre blinked, confused, while Courfeyrac froze, his hand on the handle of Enjolras’s coffee mug.

“Sorry, I just…” Courfeyrac trailed off, quailing under the intensity of Grantaire’s glare, and he slowly pulled his hand away. “Were you going to drink that?”

“Of course not,” Grantaire snapped, snatching the cup of coffee and pulling it to himself, cradling it between his hands. “This is Enjolras’s coffee.”

Understanding crossed Courfeyrac’s face, followed by a look of something like pity that Grantaire had become far too acquainted with over the past six months. Grantaire quickly looked away, and thus missed the looks that Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchanged.

Combeferre cleared his throat before asking carefully, “You still make coffee for Enjolras?”

There wasn’t really any point in denying it, and Grantaire jerked a shrug. “Yes,” he said. “And before you ask, or insinuate I’ve finally lost it, I know he’s dead.” The words came out harsher than Grantaire intended, and Combeferre flinched, his own grief visible for just a moment. Grantaire registered it, but he didn’t have it in him to comfort Combeferre, not now, not over this. “And I know it’s a waste, and Enjolras would be disappointed in my continued personal failing to take into account my environmental footprint, but coffee was our thing. Our time. And if it gives me just one moment of feeling like he’s still here, I don’t see that as a waste.”

He said it like a challenge, and Courfeyrac shook his head. “I don’t think Enjolras would see that as a waste, either,” he said gently, hesitating before adding, “But…”

“He wouldn’t want you to live like this,” Combeferre said hollowly. “Holding onto him like this.”

Grantaire tasted bile in the back of his throat and he stood, abruptly, and carried Enjolras’s coffee mug to the sink. “Well,” he said, dumping its contents into the sink, “luckily, since he’s not here anymore, he doesn’t get an opinion.”

He turned back to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Did you need anything else?” he asked pointedly.

Combeferre frowned, and looked like he wanted to say something, but Courfeyrac shook his head, standing and tugging Combeferre up as well. “No,” he told Grantaire. “No, like I said, we just wanted to see how you were doing. And we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

He ushered Combeferre toward the door, though it looked for a minute like Combeferre might try to argue, or say something else. Grantaire trailed after them, instantly feeling guilty for how quickly this had gone wrong. He reached out and caught Courfeyrac’s arm. “Look, he started, a little awkwardly, “I’m—”

“I know,” Courfeyrac said, leaning in to give him a quick, one-armed hug. “Just know we’re here if you need us, ok?”

The problem, which they both knew, was that Grantaire needed Enjolras. And that was the one thing no one could give him.

Still, he forced a smile. “Ok,” he said.

He gave them both an awkward wave before closing the door after them and wandering back into the kitchen, looking at his own cup of coffee without any real desire to drink it. He glanced at the picture of Enjolras on the fridge and scowled. “Don’t even start with me,” he said, his voice low. “You have no idea—”

He broke off, his chest tight, and he looked away. After a long minute, he said softly, “I’m trying, ok? I’m just – I’m trying.”

The picture of Enjolras didn’t respond, and Grantaire retreated to his bedroom where he could leave all thought of coffee far behind.

- - - - - - - - - -

The first few weeks after Enjolras got his diagnosis were a blur of doctors appointments, planning meetings, and every opportunity that Grantaire could seize to pretend that this wasn’t happening, that there had been some kind of mistake.

One morning, he was especially reveling in that pretense, bundled in a blanket, his head pillowed on Enjolras’s chest, Enjolras’s heartbeat loud and soothing against his ear. For the first time in awhile, they had no place to be, no one to see, and Grantaire was quite content to never leave the bed or face the world again.

Enjolras, however, had other ideas. “Are we ever going to talk about it?” he asked quietly, and Grantaire groaned, squeezing his eyes closed for a long moment before sitting up.

“Yes,” he said, avoiding Enjolras’s eyes. “Later.”

“Later when?” Enjolras asked, sitting up as well.

Grantaire pushed the blankets off and stood, grabbing his green plaid bathrobe and tossing Enjolras’s red terry cloth robe on the bed for him. “After coffee,” he said.

He headed to the kitchen, fully expecting Enjolras to stay in bed and wait for him to return with the coffee, but instead, Enjolras followed him. “Sooner or later, we are going to have to talk about it,” he reminded Grantaire, leaning against the counter and watching Grantaire getting the coffee maker ready.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Grantaire muttered as he grabbed both of their mugs.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Enjolras said evenly. “After all, denial’s not just a river in Egypt.”

Grantaire groaned at the joke, but he couldn’t quite stop the smile that crossed his face as he shook his head. “That’s terrible,” he informed Enjolras.

Enjolras just shrugged, accepting the cup of coffee Grantaire handed him. “Making terrible jokes is usually your job, but I figured someone’s gotta do it.”

Grantaire’s smile faded. “Forgive me if I haven’t really felt like making jokes lately,” he said quietly.

Wordlessly, Enjolras reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him close and leaning in to kiss his temple. “What do you say we take these back to bed with us?” he murmured, and Grantaire tilted his head up to kiss him.

“I’d say that’s the best idea you’ve had all morning.”

They returned to the bedroom, Grantaire draining half his cup of coffee on the way, and clambered back into bed together. Grantaire opted to leave his coffee on the nightstand for the moment, instead choosing to curl up with his head on Enjolras’s chest like before.

Enjolras, for his part, had always been a better multitasker, and was content to sip his coffee while stroking Grantaire’s hair. And he even managed to find time to tell Grantaire gently, “Avoiding it isn’t going to change anything.”

Grantaire closed his eyes. “I know that,” he said. “But I still just want to hold onto things as they are for a little bit longer.”

Enjolras sighed. “I guess I can’t blame you for that.”

Grantaire worried his lower lip between his teeth, torn between saying what he had wanted to since that first day, when they had first found out, or staying in his bubble of denial for a little bit longer.

But since Enjolras had already popped the bubble for the day, now seemed as good a time as any for the truth to come out. “I don’t know how to live without you,” Grantaire whispered, and Enjolras’s hand stilled.

“I know,” he said, his voice a low rumble against Grantaire’s ear. “But I need you to figure it out. Because knowing you’ll be ok is the only way that I’m going to get through this.”

Grantaire almost wanted to laugh at that, but he managed not to. “But you’re not going to get through this,” he pointed out, sitting up.

Enjolras sighed again and turned to set his coffee cup down on his nightstand. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

Enjolras scowled. “Be serious.”

Grantaire managed a small, half-smile. “I am wild.”

To his surprise, Enjolras laughed at that, turning to face him. “See, and that’s what I’m going to miss most,” he said, almost a little wistfully.

Grantaired arched an eyebrow. “Me being an ass?”

“Exactly.”

For a moment, Grantaire was tempted to laugh along with him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to, not now that this particular can of worms had been opened. “But you won’t miss anything,” he said, a little sharply. “You won’t be here to miss anything.”

Enjolras’s smile faded. “Maybe miss is the wrong word,” he said. “I don’t know if you can miss something you’ll never have. But I want sixty more years of this, of you being an ass and making fun of how I drink my coffee every morning.”

Grantaire swallowed, hard. “I want that too,” he managed.

“But I mean it,” Enjolras continued steadily. “I need you to be ok.”

“Why?” Grantaire asked, a thousand verses of despair caught up in that single word.

Enjolras just shrugged. “Because you’ve always been my guide.”

Grantaire blinked. “Combeferre is the guide.”

Enjolras gave him a look. “Combeferre is the guide of the Cause,” he corrected. “You’re my guide. You’re the metric I rely on to know if I’m making a difference, or to know how much more work needs to be done.” He bit his lip. “So I need you to be ok, because then maybe this will all be ok. The fact that I’ll be dead won’t have to mean that everything I’ve tried to do will have failed.”

Grantaire shook his head slowly. “I don’t know if I can make that promise. Being ok without you…”

“I know,” Enjolras said heavily, reaching out to take his hand, twining their fingers together. “I know what I’m asking is impossible. But I want you to at least try.”

Grantaire managed a ghost of his usual smile. “Well, how can I say no to a dying man?” he asked, the joke falling painfully flat, and he attempted to steer it to safer territory. “So what do you want me to do? You want me to, what, get remarried?”

Enjolras snorted. “I don’t know if I’d go that far…” He lifted Grantaire’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “I don’t want you to get stuck, the way you sometimes do. Stuck in your head or in the darkness. So whatever that looks like for you to not be stuck.”

Grantaire pretended to consider it for a moment. “I’m gonna bleach the tips of my hair like it’s 1998. That’ll show you.”

“If that’s what you want to do, at least I won’t be around to have to see it,” Enjolras shot back.

“Ass.”

“Takes one to know one,” Enjolras said, just a little smugly. “But yes, something like that, something small.” He paused before suggesting, a little slyly, “Switch up your coffee order even, or something like that.”

Grantaire wrinkled his nose at the thought. “That’s an awfully big ask.”

Enjolras laughed. “For you? I know.” His smile again faded, and he squeezed Grantaire’s hand before telling him softly, “And if you do ever decide you want to, y’know, remarry…”

“Don’t,” Grantaire said, his voice tight. “Don’t even say it.”

“Grantaire—”

Grantaire just shook his head, fighting back the tears he hadn’t yet let himself cry. “Look, asking me to change the kind of coffee I drink is hard enough, ok?” he said, his voice trembling, just slightly. “So let’s not push it.”

After a long moment, Enjolras nodded. “Fine.” He paused before adding, “But I am serious about the coffee thing.”

“Over my dead body,” Grantaire grumbled.

Enjolras just laughed lightly. “No,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Grantaire’s head. “Over mine.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Grantaire slept horribly the night after Combeferre and Courfeyrac stopped by, and so he got out of bed when the sun was just barely beginning to creep over the horizon. The kitchen looked eerie in the dim light, but he felt it fit his mood.

He went through the same motions as he did every morning, but each step of his coffee making process seemed to hurt a little more now, like a scab had been picked off a healing wound.

Or maybe it was just that he had been reminded that he hadn’t healed at all.

When the coffee was finished, he sat down across from Enjolras’s mug like usual, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink his coffee. Instead, he looked up at the refrigerator, at the man he wished more than anything was sitting across from him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I said I would try, but…”

He trailed off and made a face. “Don’t even think about quoting Star Wars at me. Now is not the time.” He half-smiled before glancing down at his coffee, and Enjolras’s, untouched across the table.

“Well,” he said, after a long moment. “I suppose it can’t hurt.” He reached across the table for Enjolras’s coffee, lifting it to his lips and blowing on it before giving Enjolras’s picture a look. “I’m doing this for you, you know. Because I promised I’d try.”

Then he took a sip of Enjolras’s coffee.

And almost immediately spit it back into the coffee mug. “Oh my God, that is disgusting,” he rasped, gagging at the hyper-sweet taste. “I cannot believe you drink this shit, Enjolras, holy shit.”

He paused, then corrected, “I can’t believe you used to drink this shit.”

He set the mug of coffee down on the table swallowing both against the lingering taste in his mouth and the grief he could feel welling in his chest despite his every effort to tamp it down. “And still, I would drink this every single day if you…”

He didn’t finish the thought.

He didn’t have to.

It wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

He stood to carry Enjolras’s mug of coffee to the sink, and once again stared down to watch the brown liquid swirl away. But this time, he felt something different than usual. Something a little less painful than usual.

As if maybe some real healing had started.

He glanced over his shoulder at the picture of Enjolras, and managed an actual smile. “I love you,” he said, because he did. “Even if you had the worst taste in coffee.”

He looked at the clock over the stove and debated drinking his coffee and showering, but decided against it. He had time to try to get a few more hours of sleep, and he could brew another pot of coffee after that.

And who knows – maybe he’d put a tiny bit of sugar in his coffee later.

He had tried. He was trying. And maybe later he’d find a way to try again.

[mooshys]

top ten hq!! guys I would love to go to waffle house with at 2 in the morning

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a very subjective list of the hq guys I would love to take with me to waffle house and what they would be like in the greatest american restaurant known to mankind. kind of unhinged, but I don't care!

reference of waffle house environment for those who are unfamiliar.

warning: a bit of sailor mouth

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

10. NISHINOYA -> has a lot of energy and wouldn't judge you if you texted him asking to go to waffle house. very fun to be around, but you gotta watch him because one second he's eating his bacon strips, the next he's wearing the fry cook apron and making sunny side up eggs for the construction workers at the table behind yours... ends up getting a job there once you two finish eating.

9. YAKU -> he comes willingly, but complains about how late it is until you two finally seat yourselves. ends up accidentally spilling a lot of gossip 'cause he's exhausted and doesn't even care that he just exposed lev for not being able to read an analogue clock. orders the all star special and finishes it in a fit of rage because the waitress gave him a to-go box when he was only halfway done. gets food poisoning the next day and swears off waffle house for the rest of his life.

8. SEMI -> acts like he's in a coming of age movie. dresses all nice in an oversized denim jacket, a crisp white t-shirt, and black slacks. who are you trying to impress? eat your damn biscuits and gravy, this is a waffle house! anyway, after his initial monologue about youth before ordering his coffee, he's fun to hang out with. takes neat instagram pictures for you and shares a spotify playlist about waffle house with you the next day.

7. GAO -> takes forever to decide if he wants to go to waffle house or not and pales at the yelp reviews. goes "they only have 1 and a half stars and the most recent review says they got mugged when waiting for their scrambled eggs?" this isn't the ritz-carlton, gao! besides, the best waffle houses are the ones that end up on the evening news! anyway, his knees reach the table when he's sitting in the booth and he hits his head on the light fixtures when he gets up. tries to help the waitress by handing her all the plates stacked up, but his fingers slip and he accidentally drops them all. never goes to waffle house again. cringes whenever you so much as bring up waffle house near him.

6. BOKUTO -> very excited about going to waffle house at 2 in the morning and speeds over to your place to go. in fact, he's so excited about waffle house that he ends up eating way too much and throws up everything he ate as soon as he steps foot out of the restaurant. once he stops throwing up, he goes right back inside and orders another omelet to-go. tells all his friends about him throwing up and asks you the next day if you want to go to waffle house with him again.

5. USHIJIMA -> he's big and buff and strong, so no one will mess with you guys when you're sharing your waffles and hash browns. he barely fits in a booth because of his big badonkadonks and the waffle house mugs look tiny in his hands. eats your leftovers when you ask, but says that he thinks the food is kind of bland. since it's late, he doesn't have a lot to say and just listens to you talk. very cute.

4. HANAMAKI -> it's always a fun midnight waffle house date with hanamaki! talks about celebrities you don’t really care about and shows you a bunch of funny videos as you two share a waffle. makes the night entertaining and befriends the entire staff. they think he's sweet and give him a waffle house paper hat to wear and one of those kids meal coloring sets to which you two start playing pictionary. he isn't number 1 on the list because he makes you pay for his meal. broke bastard.

3. TENDOU -> he's normally there at an ungodly hour anyway, so this isn't anything new for him. he walks into the waffle house like it's his own home or something and tells the waitress "the usual" when ordering (she has no idea what his usual is and just gives him the all star special). takes a bite of waffle and then waterfalls the syrup into his mouth. mixes all the syrups into your coffee and tells you to drink it; you're hesitant at first, but you soon learn his weird food combinations taste pretty good. has nicknames for all the waitresses and calls the fry cook "my man" while doing finger guns.

2. OSAMU -> doesn't judge you for your midnight cravings and is always down for waffle house. honestly, he doesn't care if it's denny's or ihop or waffle house, just give him his damn food! will gladly eat your leftovers when you're too full. can stay in the restaurant for hours. since it's late, he speaks in a low voice that sounds incredibly comforting. makes eating at waffle house look sexy. unfortunately, he talks with his mouth full, so points off for that.

1. SUGAWARA -> rejoice if he accompanies you to waffle house! he's normal enough that he isn't going to cause a scene, but also wild enough that no one's gonna rob you two when going back to the car. has a pink taser on him that he waves around in the parking lot and yells "I have a taser!" as he turns it on and off like it's a damn fireworks show. looks at you with love in his eyes from across the booth even when you have maple syrup staining your shirt. all the waitresses call him "sugar" and adore him because he has basic table manners. leaves fat tips and asks if you want to go to mcdonalds to grab an oreo mcflurry afterwards. marry him.

[dreamsister81]

Jeff toured the world for 1994 and 1995 in support of Grace. I read reviews that breathlessly described his vocal gymnastics and wondered if he was going to make it to Australia, or bypass it like so many other baby bands do. It costs so much money to get there that it’s hard to justify the journey.

I finally heard that he was coming to play a series of small Sydney and Melbourne shows in August 1995. At the time I was shooting a lot for Who Weekly, a sister magazine to People magazine in the USA. About a week before Jeff was due to play I was delivering some pictures to Who Weekly and got into a conversation with the Picture Editor, Stephanie Strange. I asked her if they were planning to do anything with Jeff whilst he was in town. To my surprise she told me they’d just booked a photographer to do a shoot with him.

This was the first time in 25 years of working as a photographer that I was absolutely determined that I wanted that shoot. So I told Stephanie she had to let me do it. It didn't matter that somebody else was booked, I had to do the shoot. I was lucky that we'd been working together for a couple of years and knew each other well enough by that point as she laughed and said she'd see what could be done.

Even though I was one their main freelancers at that time, I didn’t really think she’d change the photographer so started calling around some of the other magazines to see if I could shoot Jeff for someone else.

I was getting nowhere as everybody had already booked their photographers, when to my amazement Stephanie called me the next day and told me that she’d dumped the other photographer and I was doing the shoot with Jeff. I was over the moon.

And so on the afternoon of Wednesday 30th August 1995, I made my way to the Ritz Carlton in Double Bay, which is known by Sydneysiders as Double Pay because it’s the seriously rich part of town and everything costs twice as much. That particular hotel also happens to be where Michael Hutchence from INXS subsequently died two years later. But I think that was in a different room.

I was shown into Jeff’s suite by his road manager, Gene Bowen. Jeff appeared tired but was sweet and accommodating. He’d played a show at The Metro two days earlier, but I suspect the jet lag was getting to him. When I mentioned that I’d listened to his dad a lot it seemed like it was something he was tired of hearing. Which was fair enough, so I didn’t pursue that line of conversation any further. What nobody realized at that time of course was that his influence has far surpassed the impact his father had.

I was surprised to see he was wearing a pink Take That T-shirt as they were not the kind of band I would imagine he’d listen to, but I didn’t comment on it. He’d already done the interview, so we went out on the balcony and I started to shoot some pictures with him.

The brief was to get color pictures to go with the article Who Weekly were going to publish. Magazines always need more than one background / set up as they need a picture to lead with and also a separate image to go within the story, so after shooting on the balcony I also took Jeff back into the hotel room and did some more pictures with him in the hotel room.

Even though I knew the magazine wouldn’t run them, I also decided to shoot some black and white pictures for myself. Which I am now deeply grateful for that foresight as the image at the top of this story came from those pictures.

AND Who Weekly managed to lose all my color pictures when they ran a big story about him after he died. The very cool Stephanie had left by then and I can’t remember the name of the dumb photo editor who’d replaced her, but she had the hide to offer me $500 compensation for the loss of 30 original transparencies. We settled for something above that but less than they were actually worth.

I didn’t hang around after the shoot as Jeff had more interviews to do, but I arranged with Gene to go see the show and shoot some live shots of Jeff at the Phoenician Club when he got back from Melbourne a few days later.-words and 📷 by Andrzej Liguz via moreimages.net: May 29, 2013

[mrsgiovanna]

- Inside Giorno's mind -

Devil Giorno: *sulking in the corner, pouting as his eyes are covered in shadow* *grumbling*

Haruno: *tilts head confusedly* What's wrong? *goes over to Devil Giorno* Do you want a hug?

Angel Giorno: *sighs fondly* Bri has to go with Bruno, Trish, & Fugo for two days on a mission.

Haruno: Eh?! But...But...that's whole two days!

Angel Giorno: Don't worry! They will go by fast!

Devil Giorno: It's still too long without our Bria!

GER: *sweat drop* You three know that you can always talk to her through the phone, right?

Devil Giorno: I need her touch, dude. Her lovely face! Her smile! Her eyes when she looks at us!

Angel Giorno: Now be nice to GER! He's trying to help us with this! Don't be so mean to him!

Haruno: *eyes sparkle at GER* Will you tell us a story of when you hang out with Miss TC?

GER: *smile fondly at Haruno* Okay, since you asked so politely. *carries Haruno gently*

- Giorno's daydream -

Giorno and Bri: *on two opposite sides of Italy*

Giorno: 🎶 If I could fall into the sky / do you think time would pass me by 🎶

Bri: 🎶 Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles / if I could just see you... tonight 🎶

*A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton plays in the background as they sing while they're in the different cities*

- Outside -

Giorno: *sighs deeply while doodling pictures of Bria in his notebook surrounded by hearts and angel wings* *lovesick hearts in his eyes*

No. 5: *flies over and looks into Giorno's ear* I wonder where his mind is today.

Awwwww m I reread this so many times, its so cute.

No. 3: *pulling at Giorno's hair donut* look at the notebook, he'll be in lalaland for a while

No. 5: Don't be mean to him, he's missing Bri

No.3: all the more reason to mess with him, it's a distraction.

Narancia: yo Gio, do you have a second- ah pistols, what are you guys doing here?

No. 5: !

No. 3: !! Nothing *flies off*

Narancia: *goes towards Giorno, sees his doodles* I see

Giorno: ! Ah Narancia, sorry... did you need something?

Narancia: it's okay I'll figure it out... you know you can call her right?

Giorno: *blushes* I know

Aaaaaaa I'm so sorry I took this long, it's so so cute. I hope you're well bb and that you're having a beautiful day, stay safe and look after yourself🥰❤️😍💕🌟🐞💗

[surveyhoursss]

127.

Bold the ones that you know of!

2000

1.Who Let The Dogs Out? -Baha Men

2. All The Small Things -Blink 182

3. Amazed -Lonestar

4. Oops, I Did It Again -Britney Spears

5. Graduation -Vitamin C

6. Bye, Bye, Bye -N*Sync

7. Independent Woman -Destiny’s Child

8. Let’s Make Love – Tim McGraw and Faith Hill

9. Zombie Nation – Kernkraft 4000

10. I Turn To You – Christina Aguilera

11. I Knew I Loved You – Savage Garden

12. It’s My Life – Bon Jovi

13. Breathe – Faith Hill

14. Shake Your Bon-Bon – Ricky Martin

15. Blue (Da Ba Dee) – Eiffel 65

16. Goobye Earl – Dixie Chicks

17. Let’s Get Married – Jagged Edge

18. The Bad Touch – Bloodhound Gang

19. The Real Slim Shady – Eminem

20. Say My Name – Destiny’s Child

21. It’s Gonna Be Me – N*Sync

22. Party Up – DMX

23. Sexual (Li Da Di) – Amber

24. Country Grammar – Nelly

25. Aaron’s Party (Come Get It) – Aaron Carter

2001

1. Hanging By A Moment -Lifehouse

2. Allin’ -Alicia Keys

3. All For You -Janet

4. If You’re Gone -Matchbox Twenty

5. I’M Real -Jennifer Lopez ft. Ja Rule

6. Drops Of Jupiter (Tell Me) -Train

7. Let Me Blow Ya Mind -Eve ft. Gwen Stefani

8. Thank You -Dido

9. Hit ‘Em Up Style (Oops!) -Blu Cantrell

10. Independent Women Part I -Destiny’s Child

11. Again -Lenny Kravitz

12. It’S Been Awhile -Staind

13. Stutter -Joe ft. Mystikal

14. It Wasn’T Me’ -Shaggy ft. Ricardo “RikRok” Ducent

15. U Remind Me -Usher

16. Where The Party At -Jagged Edge With Nelly

17. Angel -Shaggy Featuring Rayvon

18. Ride Wit Me -Nelly Featuring City Spud

19. Peaches & Cream -112

20. Follow Me -Uncle Kracker

21. Drive -Incubus

22. What Would You Do? -Alicia Keys

23. Survivor -Destiny’s Child

24. Lady Marmalade -Christina Aguilera, Lil’ Kim, Mya & Pink

25. Ms. Jackson -OutKast

2002

1. A Moment Like This – Kelly Clarkson

2. Hot In Herre – Nelly

3. Complicated – Avril Lavigne

4. Girlfriend – N Sync & Nelly

5. Sk8er Boi – Avril Lavigne

6. Can’t Fight The Moonlight – LeAnn Rimes

7. Dirrty – Christina Aguilera

8. A Thousand Miles – Vanessa Carlton

9. Heaven – DJ Sammy

10. Gimme The Light – Sean Paul

11. The World’s Greatest – R Kelly

12. Jenny From The Block – Jennifer Lopez Featuring Jadakiss & Styles

13. Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American) – Toby Keith

14. Goodbye To You – Michelle Branch

15. Can’t Get You Out Of My Head – Kylie Minogue

16. The Game Of Love – Santana Featuring Michelle Branch

17. Young’n (Holla Back) – Fabolous

18. She Hates Me – Puddle Of Mudd

19. Starry Eyed Surprise – Oakenfold Featuring Shifty Shellshock

20. The Middle – Jimmy Eat World

21. Say I Yi Yi – Ying Yang Twins

22. Just A Friend 2002 – Mario

23. Hey Baby – No Doubt and Bounty Killer

24. Work It – Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliott

25. U Don’t Have To Call – Usher

2003

1. In Da Club -50 Cent

2. Crazy in Love -Beyonce w. Jay-Z

3. Get Busy -Sean Paul

4. When I’m Gone -Three Doors Down

5. Ignition -R Kelly

6. Baby Boy -Beyonce w. Sean Paul

7. This is the Night -Clay Aiken

8. Bring Me To Life -Evanescence

9. Right Thurr -Chingy

10. Unwell -Matchbox Twenty

11. Picture -Kid Rock w. Sheryl Crow

12. Drift Away -Uncle Kracker & Dobie Gray

13. Get Low -Lil’ John & The East Side Boyz

14. Beautiful -Christina Aguilera

15. I’m With You -Avril Lavigne

16. Miss You -Aalyiah

17. 21 Questions -50 Cent & Nate Dogg

18. Shake Ya Tailfeather Nelly -P. Diddy and Murphy Lee

19. All I Have -Jennifer Lopez & LL Cool J

20. I Know What You Want -Busta Rhymes & Mariah Carey

21. Magic Stick -Lil’ Kim w. 50 Cent

22. Bump Bump Bump -B2K and P. Diddy

23. Flying Without Wings -Ruben Studdard

24. Here Without You -3 Doors Down

25. Work It -Missy Elliot

2004 (my birth year !! )

1. Yeah! -Usher

2. Burn -Usher

3. This Love -Maroon 5

4. The Way You Move -Outkast

5. If I Ain’t Got You -Alecia Keys

6. Hey Ya! -Outkast

7. I Don’t Wanna Know -Mario Winans

8. The Reason -Hoobastank

9. Confessions Part II -Usher

10. My Immortal -Evanescence

11. Naughty Girl -Beyonce

12. Let’s Get It Started -Black Eyed Peas

13. My Boo -Usher and Alecia Keys

14. She Will Be Loved -Maroon 5

15. The First Cut Is the Deepest -Sheryl Crow

16. Toxic -Britney Spears

17. Someday -Nickelback

18. I Believe -Fantasia

19. Breakaway -Kelly Clarkson

20. Slow Jamz -Twista

21. Dirt Off Your Shoulder -Jay-Z

22. Freak-A-Leek -Petey Pablo

23. The Way -Clay Aiken

24. Numb -Linkin’ Park

25. Dip It Low -Christina Milian

2005

1. We Belong Together -Mariah Carey

2. Let Me Love You -Mario

3. Since U Been Gone -Kelly Clarkson

4. Hollaback Girl -Gwen Stefani

5. Boulevard of Broken Dreams -Greenday

6. Don’t Cha -The Pussycat Dolls and Busta Rhymes

7. Candy Shop -50 Cent

8. 1, 2, Step -Ciara and Missy Elliot

9. Gold Digger -Kanye West

10. Don’t Phunk With My Heart -The Black Eyed Peas

11. Drop It Like It’s Hot -Snoop Dogg

12. Shake It Off -Mariah Carey

13. Disco Inferno -50 Cent

14. Behind These Hazel Eyes -Kelly Clarkson

15. Beverly Hills -Weezer

16. Just a Lil Bit -50 Cent

17. Lose Control -Missy Elliot

18. How We Do -The Game & 50 Cent

19. You & Me -Lifehouse

20. Soldier -Destiny’s Child

21. Rich Girl -Gwen Stefani

22. Mr. Brightside -The Killers

23. Oh -Ciara and Ludacris

24. Pon De Replay -Rihanna

25. Hate It Or Love It -The Game and 50 Cent

2006

1. Sexyback – Justin Timberlake

2. Hips Don’t Lie – Shakira featuring Wyclef Jean

3. Promiscuous – Nelly Furtado featuring Timbaland

4. Everytime We Touch – Cascada

5. Temperature – Sean Paul

6. S.O.S. – Rihanna

7. Beep – Pussy Cat Dolls

8. Waiting On The World To Change – John Mayer

9. Pump It – Black Eyed Peas

10. You’re Beautiful – James Blunt

11. Maneater – Nelly Furtado

12. Single – Natasha Bedingfield

13. What Hurts the Most – Rascall Flatts

14. Lean Wit It, Rock Wit It – Dem Franchise Boys

15. Walk Away – Kelly Clarkson

16. It’s Goin’ Down – Young Joc

17. Dance, Dance -Fall Out Boy

18. Smack That – Akon & Eminem

19. I Write Songs, Not Tragedies – Panic! At the Disco

20. We’re All In This Together – High School Musical Cast

21. Ms. New Booty – Bubba Sparx

22. How To Save A Life – The Fray

23. Rompe – Daddy Yankee

24. Check On It – Beyonce Featuring Slim Thugg

25. Chasing Cars – Snow Patrol

2007

1. The Sweet Escape -Gwen Stefani & Akon

2. Girlfriend -Avril Lavigne

3. Irreplaceable -Beyonce

4. Before He Cheats -Carrie Underwood

5. Crank Dat -Soulja Boy

6. Rehab -Amy Winehouse

7. Umbrella -Rhianna

8. Hey There Delilah -Plain White T’s

9. Glamorous -Fergie

10. I Wanna Luv U -Akon

11. Bubbly -Colbie Caillat

12. Walk It Out -Unk

13. Don’t Matter -Akon

14. Fergalicious -Fergie

15. Lip Gloss -Lil Mama

16. Candyman -Christina Aguilera

17. Break It Off -Rhianna

18. S.O.S. -Jonas Brothers

19. Stronger -Kanye West

20. Thks Fr Th Mmrs -Fall Out Boy

21. Pop, Lock and Drop It -Huey

22. Shut Up and Drive -Rhianna

23. Because of You -Ne-Yo

24. Home -Daughtry

25. Tattoo -Jordan Sparks

2008

1. So What – Pink

2. Just Dance – Lady Gaga

3. Leavin’ – Jesse McCartney

4. I’m Yours – Jason Mraz

5. Gives You Hell – All-American Rejects

6. Damaged – Danity Kane

7. Shake It – Metro Station

8. Love Story – Taylor Swift

9. When I Grow Up – Pussycat Dolls

10. I Kissed A Girl – Katy Perry

11. Don’t Stop The Music – Rihanna

12. Burnin’ Up – Jonas Brothers

13. Low – Flo Rida featuring T-Pain

14. Calabria – Enur featuring Natasja

15. Love Like This – Natasha Bedingfield and Sean Kingston

16. 7 Things – Miley Cyrus

17. Lollipop – Lil Wayne

18. Pocketful of Sunshine – Natasha Bedingfield

19. Circus – Britney Spears

20. Summertime – New Kids On The Block

21. Our Song- Taylor Swift

22. All Summer Long – Kid Rock

23. Closer – Ne-Yo

24. Viva La Vida – Coldplay

25. See You Again – Miley Cyrus

2009

1. Boom Boom Pow – Black Eyed Peas

2. I Gotta Feeling – Black Eyed Peas

3. I Know You Want Me (Calle Oche) – Pitbull

4. You Belong With Me – Taylor Swift

5. Lovegame – Lady Gaga

6. Don’t Trust Me – 3OH3!

7. Please Don’t Leave Me – Pink

8. Right Round – Flo-Rida

9. Poker Face – Lady Gaga

10. Goodbye – Kristinia Debarge

11. Say Hey – Evan Taubenfeld Michael Franti & Spearhead

12. New Divide – Linkin Park

13. The Climb – Miley Cyrus

14. Best I Ever had – Drake

15. Good Girls Go Bad – Cobra Starship Featuring Leighton Meester

16. Lucky – Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillet

17. Waking Up In Vegas – Katy Perry

18. Paranoid – Jonas Brothers

19. Wanted – Jessie James

20. Fire Burning – Sean Kingston

21. Not Meant To Be – Theory of a Deadman

22. Love, Sex and Magic – Ciara & Justin Timberlake

23. Use Somebody – Kings of Leon

24. Day N Nite – Kid Cuti

25. Hoedown Throwdown – Miley Cyrus (they let us learn the dance at res)