10 Things I Hate About You (1999) Dir. Gil Junger

//   (  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) 

he has a bagged chocolate croissant clutched in his hand, making his way toward a back table when there's suddenly coffee all over his sweatshirt and a woman practically yelling. it takes him a moment to get his wits about him before he's locking eyes with his aunt. she looks a little different than her facebook pictures, it's almost like seeing a ghost. his eyes go wide and he opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish as he stares at her. "rebec — aunt rebecca." his voice is quieter (quieter than usual) and he shakes his head, "um, it's not that bad. i'm fine, really." he glances over his shoulder as if his dad's going to be there watching this interaction that almost feels forbidden then back at the woman in front of him. "are... are you in town for the... for the service?" he trips over his words a bit and shakes his head, "no, sorry. sorry, i'm really sorry. really sorry about kirby." how many times are you gonna say sorry? he mentally kicks himself, grabbing for some more napkins from a nearby table, uttering another 'sorry' as he apologizes to the pair sitting at that table.

"i think i have another sweatshirt in my backpack anyway. it's okay." griffin insists, thanking a barista as they come over with a rag for the floor and the table rebecca spilled the other one all over. he's avoiding eye contact with his aunt, trying to pretend like he can even focus a little bit on cleaning up the mess and not the mess that is the talbot family and their dynamics. it's just his luck, of course, to run into her at random in a situation like this. he guesses it's a least a little bit better than seeing her at the funeral for the first time. though, the whole town has felt a bit like a wake lately.

 ⸻ 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴 ﹐ closed for @chappcdlips / griffin talbot.

 ⸻ 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 ﹐ early rise bakery & cafe.

rebecca sat slouched in the corner of the cafe, oversized sunglasses hiding bloodshot eyes, nursing a lukewarm coffee that was doing very little to cut through the haze of a nasty hangover. the dull hum of chatter, clinking cups and that damn door that jingled every time someone walked through it was grating on her last nerve ; she thought it'd be better than sitting alone at the motel with just her misery, regret and a pounding headache to keep her company, but turns out she was wrong.

head spins as she stands up too quickly, not noticing the figure in her path until it was too late ; coffee drops to the floor, pooling around both of their feet. " what the f*** !? — ugh, watch where you're going, dude ! " totally her fault. she looks up, ready to take out her problems on the poor stranger, but instead her jaw drops at the sight of the young man staring back at her. the resemblance is uncanny — nathan's jawline, the talbot eyes ( though somewhat less scheming ). realization struck like a slap to the face, which is what she actually deserved. " griffin. " tone softens as guilt takes over from irritation, though a mix of horror and embarrassment was still present on her face. his name lingers in the air between them, the silence verging on awkward, before she snaps out of it. " oh, god, i'm sorry — here, let's get you cleaned up. " she reaches over a nearby table, aiming for the napkins but instead knocking over another cup of coffee, this time not her own. now would be a good time for the ground to swallow her whole.

"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?"

JESSICA HENWICK as PEG GLASS ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY 2022, dir. Rian Johnson

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

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

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

"with the amount of glasses they've got here? at least 45% of them are bound to be a little broken." cyrus assured with a slight shake of his head, "not your fault." he'd heard about the memorial, about the extra names, though he hadn't gone himself too busy with chasing his kids around. and he knew zeynep's name was there. he wasn't going to bring it up, but when she volunteered a quip about it, he hummed, "they'll notice." a pause, "we'll notice." it felt easy to provide that assurance. it felt true. in a town like red creek, with a family like zeynep's? he was sure everyone would know, that everyone would worry. he let out a soft sigh, leaning back in his seat, "and it's not going to happen, okay? nothing is going to happen." of course, cyrus couldn't promise that, but it was no use harping on the worst possible outcome, it would get them all nowhere.

location: redstone bar

time & date: february 15 & 6:00pm

status: open to everyone !

“it  was  an  accident,  i  swear!”  the  words  rushed  out  in  a  furious  whisper, she hadn't even noticed that she wasn't alone.  zeynep  pushed the empty glass she had been inspecting away from herself, before signaling the bartender for another around.  “the  glass  was  cracked  when  i  picked  it  up,  who  knows  how  long  it’s  been  defective...right?” she couldn't help but cringe at the sound of her voice, the brief crack felt foreign. no part of her wanted to admit that her name etched into the memorial had left her frightened. zeynep knew fear, it had plagued her nights. every red and blue flashing light had left her in a cold sweat for years. “anyways, apparently i'm on a hit list. they might not even notice before i become the next missing myth in town.” the words flowed so flippantly from her that zeynep could almost fool herself with the feigned nonchalance. “you don't think they'll notice, do you?”

DRIVE-AWAY DOLLS (2024) dir. Ethan Coen

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  …  ”

for? BRONTE ( @lifekisses ) where? dolly's

griffin slides into the booth across from her, a small grin lifting his lips as he settles into the sticky seat, "do you carry pepper spray?" he asks immediately. then, he backtracks, "i mean, hi, bronte. how are you?" he pauses then repeats, "so do you carry pepper spray?" he tries not to think about it very much, but with the wave of new crimes that have been hitting the town, he's a little worried about the people he cares about. and despite all the slightly convoluted history, bronte falls into that category. his days of being terrified of her are long over, though he would absolutely never want to be on her bad side, he knows better. "because, y'know... all the stuff that's been going on," griffin shrugs, "safety first and all that. not to bring the mood down or anything!" and now he's nervous he's being too paranoid and is going to freak her out. "anyway, i'm just saying, maybe mace is the best stocking stuffer this year."

besides being a lifelong part of the town, shreya's gone to the memorial to cover it for the paper. she expected it would mostly be a puff piece with some in memoriam type parts to balance it, make it a respectful piece. but as soon as the veil drops, there's a gasp, and suddenly the piece isn't an article commemorating the town's losses. it's replaced with something darker, something hard to read and something even harder to write. "what the hell?" she murmurs, wide eyes flicking over the extra names, the names of people she knows, some of people she cares deeply about. when alara grabs her hand, shreya glances over, the realization that alara's own family is represented on the new list washing over her. "fuck. i... do you want to get out of here?" is what she asks, empathy bowling over the journalist inside of her.

LOCATION : the candlelit memorial , sometime around 5pm . open to everyone .

there  was  something  so  surreal  about  the  things  that  were  happening  in  red  creek  ,  for  the  first  time  the  thoughts  touching  her  in  more  than  just  a  passing  way  .  when  she  was  younger  ,  she  had  been  so  idealistic  ,  protected  by  her  parents  and  looking  forwards  to  life  .  she  thought  now  that  maybe  her  eyes  were  opening  little  by  little  to  what  was  really  going  on  and  how  those  losses  must  feel  ,  empathetic  heart  bleeding  more  and  more  for  those  left  behind  .  she  isn't  there  for  personal  mourning  but  to  think  about  the  lives  that  have  been  lost  ,  to  consider  the  hole  they  left  in  the  world  and  all  their  lives  .  then  ,  the  veil  is  pulled  back  and  there's  more  writing  than  she  remembers  ,  a  second  for  her  brain  to  catch  up  to  the  foreign  thing  that  is  taking  place  ...  she  doesn't  make  a  noise  as  others  seem  to  have  some  kind  of  reaction  .  blink  once  .  instinctually  ,  she  reaches  out  and  grabs  onto  the  hand  of  the  person  standing  beside  her  ,  having  came  alone  ,  separated  initially  from  anyone  .  it  is  almost  a  knee  jerk  reaction  but  she  doesn't  let  go  ,  least  of  all  trying  to  comprehend  the  presence  of  her  sisters  name  .  not  a  word  spoken  .  fight  ,  flight  ...  freeze  .