LINKDING

<blockquote>But Cecil is never passive-aggressive. Cecil is never confusing. Cecil says exactly what he means exactly when it occurs to him—which is usually while he’s speaking on public radio. When Cecil fell in love with Carlos, he declared it immediately, and Carlos never had to go through the agonizing process of trying to puzzle out his true feelings through complex layers of communication and unreliable body language and words that never mean quite what they say.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Night Vale didn't reward those who hoped in the permanence of gravity—but Carlos didn't think it necessarily punished those who hoped.</blockquote>

➤the trope meme

<blockquote>"Starscreen," Cecil says, as though that were an explanation. He sits down and unbuttons his shirt, sliding it unselfconsciously off of his shoulders.</blockquote>

<blockquote>In which there is science! And also there are Pop Tarts! And dead animals falling from the sky! But you should not, in any circumstances whatsoever, be afraid!</blockquote> ➤see title

<blockquote>Because how can Cecil not be the type to plan his perfect wedding with Carlos. It doesn't have to be an actual wedding, just a tour of his wedding scrapbook or something. Maybe Carlos stumbles across it at Cecil's place.</blockquote> ➤the fill for this prompt is multimedia, including a carefully created pinterest

<blockquote>There is a new sun shining over the desert. Though most of us were pretty fond of the old one. Welcome to Night Vale, an atomic community.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Carlos returns his handshake, smiling, and the sky (which had previously been a sort of hazy violet) suddenly clears into pale, sweet orange, like the color of a creamsicle.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Calling his mother becomes a scientific investigation all on its own. At first he believes the cell phone reception really is that bad, but then he starts charting the words and phrases that get eaten by the static, and realizes there's a lot more to it than that. He definitely can't tell her everything.</blockquote>

<blockquote>"I decided that the citizens of Night Vale probably spawn in, like, litters, because there is no way if you only have one child they’re going to survive into adulthood. Better safe than sorry, right? And then fic happened."</blockquote> ➤ this fic is one of the ones that perfectly hits the charmingly-creepiness I want out of night vale fic. ➤ I need to figure out how to tag for this because some of the night vale fic I've bookmarked because I liked it well enough but it wasn't QUITE what I want out of night vale fic, and some of it was like YES GOOD THIS

<blockquote>Cecil is the child of and prophet for this impossible town (and he might have been for thousands of years, though he can’t remember and neither can anyone else, but sometimes he dreams about sitting beside a smoky fire wrapped in furs and telling stories that were old even then—other times he looks at the cave paintings and remembers putting them there—who were his parents again? such nice, bland people, but where did they live, what did they do, when did they leave—) (shhhh, Night Vale tells him. shhhhh)</blockquote>

<blockquote>Night Vale is frightening, and the radio broadcaster with the soothing voice and the ability to run people out of town with the power of his influence and a huge crush on Carlos is equally frightening. (At least, that's what Carlos keeps telling himself.)</blockquote>

<blockquote>Just your average, run-of-the-mill temporal anomaly. Nothing serious.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Sunrise in suburban Night Vale.</blockquote>

<blockquote>In which Carlos and Cecil go on their third date, and Carlos begins to accept that this is his life now. Set after The Sandstorm.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Carlos’ sleek, barely-there headphones with the wireless radio chip don’t work within town limits. They only pick up a low, wordless chanting, interspersed by something that sounds like The Well-Tempered Clavier being played by a far-off vuvuzela. When he tries to ask Mr. Marconi down at Sounds Good Repair, he gets is a blank stare and a pamphlet written entirely in Italian.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Carlos sipped his coffee and stared at Cecil’s kitchen wall, horror and scientific fascination creating in him an almost disturbing level of calm.</blockquote>