Embarassing To Want Things Like Love And Attention

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

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

@chappcdlips

always vaguely feeling like im in trouble for something but idk what

"just respect me? damn. can't even throw a love in there?" cyrus teased, leaning against the kitchen counter and folding his arms across his chest, "you could have just put a few movies on, i wouldn't tell the missus they're going over their screentime for the day." he chuckled. he didn't particularly care about the screentime thing as long they were both still signed up for at least one extracurricular or sport. though, too much time on the ipad seemed like it would rot their brains. "you know i appreciate you watching them." he nodded at tori, "i'd like to think they're less of a handful than our little siblings were." and he was at times too, but cyrus had a knack for rewriting history and any of his own troubles no longer existed in his personal retelling. "they'll eat vegetables, don't you worry. they aren't allowed to get up from the table until they do." he grinned, "zeke sat there until almost nine once when we had brussel sprouts." then he sighed, nodding his head toward her mug, "do you have any decaf?"

LOCATION  :  cromwell  house  . TIME  :  six  o'clock  ,  dinner time  . STATUS  :  closed for @chappcdlips  !

ducking  into  the  kitchen  ,  tori  let  out  the  deep  breath  she  had  been  holding  since  her  niece  and  nephew  had  arrived  that  afternoon  .  time  heals  all  wounds  and  apparently  also  rids  you  of  the  stamina  it  takes  to  handle  two  kids  under  the  age  of  ten  .  her  maternal  instincts  would  probably  never  fade  ,  honed  to  near  perfection  from  before  she  could  do  basic  algebra  ,  but  cy's  kids  were  …  well,  cy's  kids  .  which  meant  they  were  just  like  not  him  ,  not  just  in  appearance  .  he  used  to  get  on  her  every  nerve  ,  probably  more  than  their  other  siblings  ,  and  while  the  kids  weren't  quite  at  that  level  of  aggravating  yet  ,  they  were  certainly  climbing  the  ranks  .  a  healthy  dinner  of  her  making  ,  with  all  the  necessary  food  groups  accounted  for  sat  before  them  in  the  dining  room  and  she  checked  on  the  decidely  unhealthy  desert  :  cinnamon  rolls  absolutely  smothered  in  icing  .  at  the  sound  of  the  kitchen  door  swinging  open  ,  she  turned  to  look  at  her  brother  ,  taking  a  sip  of  her  jack  -  spiked  cola  in  a  mug  .  “  you're  very  lucky  i  respect  you  or  else  i  would've  sat  them  in  front  of  some  very  colorful  disney  movies  and  that  would've  been  the  extent  of  my  babysitting  duties  .  ”

"Sorry... sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out." Griffin murmured, moving out of the doorway and into the room. He felt bad, terrible even, that he had accidentally stumbled upon his mom having a moment he was sure she didn't want him to witness. But he was glad, too, that she didn't have to be alone right now. "Mom..." He shook his head, "it's alright." It probably sounded stupid, since nothing really was 'alright,' but he wasn't completely sure what to do or say under these circumstances. "We'll get it cleaned up, Mom." He whispered, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her for a hug, "It's gonna be fine, Dad won't see." Though, given the situation, he wasn't sure his dad would be worried about something so trivial in comparison to everything else. He let out a slightly shuddery breath as he hugged her, trying his best not to lose his composure. Griffin wasn't generally that composed, mostly a nervouse wreck, but he felt like he had to be now. He felt like he owed it to his family to be strong. His dad always seemed so strong, his mom too, maybe he just wanted to prove that he was a Talbot after all. Prove that he could handle the tough stuff and still keep his head up.

He pulled away after a moment, crouching down to deal with the clothes scattered across the floor, "Is there a... y'know, a system? A donate pile or anything?" He asked her, picking up a wrinkled blouse on the top of one of the piles. He figured Charlotte's meltdown wasn't just about the clothes, but he thought dealing with the mess was a good place to start.

closed starter with: charlotte and griffin (@chappcdlips) setting: "her" and nathan's bedroom, 6pm, the night before the funeral

Clothes were everywhere, piled haphazardly in no discernible pattern, and Charlotte sat in the middle of it like the eye of a hurricane. There was a wild, desperate look in her eyes as she picked through items, giving each a brief look before tossing it in one of her piles and moving on to the next. She’d been doing it for hours at this point, and was so lost in the process that she jumped when she saw Griffin in her peripheral vision. “Oh God, you scared me Griff!” She threw the shirt in her hand on top of a pile to her right, suddenly deeply self-conscious of the disaster zone she’d created, and a long line of explanation began to tumble haphazardly out of her mouth. “I needed a dress for tomorrow, and I didn’t have anything in the guest room closet, so I came up here to look for something, and I just kept finding all these old clothes that I never wear, and I started to think, why don’t I just donate all of these stupid things that are just collecting dust,” she rambled, her voice growing more strained as she spoke. “And now I’ve just created this huge mess in a room that’s not even mine anymore, and that’s not even mentioning the fact that I am apparently not capable of finding a single black dress that I can wear to your cousin’s funeral.” Charlotte choked on the last word, fighting the overwhelming urge to crumple in on herself. She mindlessly moved some clothes around, trying to keep her trembling hands busy, biting the inside of her cheek to maintain her faltering composure. “Can you help me get these clothes put away before your father gets home?” Her voice dripped with embarrassment. This mess was evidence of her unraveling- something Griffin shouldn’t have to see, and something Nathan couldn't see. 

there was something about fresh grief that was numbing, a sort of autopilot that griffin's body just immediately clicked into. he remembered when his uncle died, he was young but he could remember how heavy it felt, like a set of football shoulder pads that he couldn't just shrug off like he had when he was five and tried peewee football for all of six minutes. this felt different. he hadn't been particularly close to his cousin, but still, it felt awful, he felt sick to his stomach. since hearing the news, his body felt like it was in a permanent dry heave while his head was empty, too overwhelmed to form a single thought. but he had to get out of the house, which led to wandering, which led to here standing in front of collette with a vacant expression on his face. he cleared his throat, shrugging, "i don't really know what i said either. not important. probably just, like, hey, what's up?" griffin shrugged, taking his gloves off and shoving them in his coat pockets, "got anything interesting for sale today?" not that he was planning on buying anything, but he could use the distraction.

LOCATION : red creek fish market. TIME OF DAY : mid - morning, just a bit before noon. STATUS : open starter, accepting replies.

the  cognitive  limbo  felt  more  physical  than  usual  —  a  headiness,  floaty  &  almost  dreamlike,  forcing  collette's  attention  in  multiple  directions  as  on  one  hand,  the  influx  of  news  that  came  from  a  radio  behind  the  counter  -  though  interrupted  with  pulsing  static,  still  loud  enough  for  them  to  hear  all  the  unsightly  details  of  this  morning's  findings,  versus  the  smile,  unsubstantial  but  still  there,  etched  onto  their  face  with  a  serrated  blade. it  was  nothing  out  of  sorts,  coming  from  towns  whose  fibre  was  woven  with  tragedy,  yet  each  news  alert  doesn't  get  more  palatable  with  time.  this  was  an  ache  one  couldn't  easily  soothe  over  with  a  few  licks  to  the  wound,  and  it  stunted  collette,  one  whose  gaze  bounced  between  others  whose  mouths  equally  as  upturned  as  their  own,  though  she  could  almost  see  the  scars  of  theirs,  too.  sic  vita  est,  life  goes  on,  but  this  ear  worm  remained  persistent.  they  hated  it,  the  insistence  to  just  keep  going,  life  as  usual  when  someone  no  longer  has  that  opportunity.  but  through  the  fog,  a  voice  boomed,  syllables  growing  clearer,  a  “  huh,  sorry,  ”  spoken  under  the  vendor's  breath.  “  can  you  —  can  you  say  that  again  ?  sorry.  i  didn't  hear  you  correctly,  i  don't  think  …  ”

"fuck." cyrus hissed, most of his coffee hitting the floor, about a quarter of it soaking his tan pants. now he had to get another coffee and change his damn pants. perfect. he let out a breath, eyes meeting robbie's, "nah, it mostly got the floor." but now he was thankful that he always kept a spare pair of neutral pants in his classroom. he reached over to a nearby booth and grabbed some napkins, patting his pant leg with them and pasting a smile on his face, composing himself, "listen, man, accidents happen. might charge you for my dry cleaning, though." he teased. his eyes flicked over robbie, "did any get on you?" he held out a mostly clean napkin to the other just in case, "must've been a rough night, huh, doc?"

who: open to all! (capping at 5!) where: dolly's diner when: 5.43am

it was too early when he made his way into dolly's diner, after a long, boring shift at the hospital. it was like waiting for the other shoe to drop every night; at some point, something or somebody would make their way into his ER, and shit would hit the fan. it was just a question of when. still, this morning was not for serial killer theories but for coffee, and robbie let out a sigh when the sweet aroma of coffee hit his senses.

this morning already seemed like a mess, as when he stepped into the diner, he walked directly into someone else, spilling hot beverage between them both. "shit, sorry! are you alright? did you burn yourself?"

everyone should thank me because as bad as i am, i am holding myself back from being much worse

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

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

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

//   (  spike fearn .  cis man  .  he/him  )  .    ⸻  griffin talbot ,  a  twenty-one  year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  his whole life  .  the  introvert  is  known  for  being  attentive  and  timid  and  is  often  associated  with  notes scribbled in margins, not speaking unless spoken to, long walks with no destination  .  in  a  small  town  where  they  work  as  a cashier at red creek pharmacy  word  travels  fast  .  it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret  ,  and  it  looks  like  the  boogeyman  knows  that  redacted .

STATS

full name: griffin douglas talbot   hometown: red creek, mi   sexuality: bisexual  birthday: june 30   zodiac: cancer sun, cancer moon, capricorn rising  height: 5’9”  languages spoken: english, some spanish marital status: single children: none  traits: attentive, imaginative, independent, timid, oversensitive, evasive 

BACKGROUND tw drowning mention, anxiety  

the youngest of the talbot clan, griffin knew from a young age that his family was a Big Deal 

when he was little he liked the attention, he was a rambunctious and loud child, always running around trying to keep up with his older siblings 

this changed when he was 9; that summer, he was playing in a creek with some friends, he fell into a deep drop off and in a freak accident his foot got stuck in a sunken log and he was trapped beneath the surface for too long 

his friends eventually freed him but he had lost consciousness and was rushed to the local hospital 

he lived obvi, but the event left him traumatized and embarrassed and anxious all the time 

he started to withdraw, wracked with fear and anxiety, to this day he has pretty horrible social anxiety and is afraid to go near water 

he exceeded all expectations in school though, getting great grades and eventually getting into every college he applied to, including his dad’s alma mater, princeton

but he decided to stay local, commuting to school from red creek 

he’s in school to become a pharmacist which is why he works at the pharmacy part-time; he isn’t exactly passionate about pharmacology (he’ll happily collect those nice checks someday though) 

PERSONALITY & FUN FACTS 

painfully shy, social anxiety beating his ass daily 

much prefers to spend time alone or with very few close people 

reads a lot (likes horror, thriller, mysteries, but HATES true crime), plays videos games (idk which ones, i don’t go there), watches a lot of movies (letterboxd top four: star wars episode i, wallace and gromit (were-rabbit ofc), the parent trap, snakes on a plane) 

really into herpetology as a hobby and has a lizard, bearded dragon named wallace, and a snake, rainbow boa named gromit 

always has a plastic baggy of yellow starburst on him (he only really likes the yellow ones but will eat a different flavor if it’s offered by someone else) 

has so many pairs of socks that he just keeps them in a large cardboard box in the corner of his closet 

has never been in a relationship, is incredibly scared to do so and would not know where to begin 

but definitely has a number of crushes and a tier system for them 

writes shitty poetry and short stories for fun in a notebook he always carries around with his starburst baggy 

in typical baby brother fashion, thinks his older siblings are the coolest people alive 

a really good listener, he is observant and notices everything, so even though he’s probably not talking a lot he’s absorbing everything you’re saying 

hates the prominence of his family name these days, would rather live anonymously as some local nobody than be in the spotlight 

has had problems w insomnia since the incident at the creek, but he’s kinda okay with it bc more time to read and fall down a wikipedia hole or just go on a long ambling walk to nowhere 

big into tea, never drinks coffee 

sweet and very sensitive, like okay water sign 

incredibly caring towards those he loves 

 character inspo: jughead (riverdale), fez (that 70s show), ferb (really a ferb sun, baljeet moon) (phineas and ferb), quentin (the magicians), marcus (the bear)