he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Cosmic Funnies
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ellievsbear
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tannertan36
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Claire Keane
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@eternityleaves
ㅤ # ETERNITYLEAVES : good times never last , they pass through . . .
a multimuse consisting of original characters with fluctuating activity, loved dearly by moonie ( 27 / she/they / est ). this blog does not operate on a mutuals only basis and will rarely follow back without prior interaction. please do not follow/interact if you are under 21 years of age.
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i'll be more active later on in the week <3 life in general has me feeling dead
jesse definitely trusts kolby's ability to order in monumentally more than his ability to cook something edible for dinner — especially since the chinese place a few blocks over is practically on speed-dial, or whatever the equivalent for placing an online order was. already, he can feel something tight coming loose inside him, the combination of the familiar dingy exterior of their apartment and the warm weight of kolby's arm over his shoulders. it's good to be home. there's no shaking the feeling that the very sensation of it had much more to do with the latter than the former. " wow, look at this — " jesse deadpans once they've unlocked the door and stepped inside, kicking off his shoes next to the neat row that sits on the doormat. " — you mean you haven't just been dumping all your stuff in the entryway ?? " blue eyes turn on kolby, the amusement sparkling in them a glint of genuine life in his otherwise morose demeanor he's been trying to cover up. " i'm going to be a hypocrite — just leave my stuff here, i'll deal with it tomorrow. " it's the closest he's coming to saying he's not in the mood to deal with the fallout of his olympic trip ; yearning to return to a familiar routine and dreading it at the same time ( the past four years had been building to this ). he can still hear his own angry words in his head, bitter as he tried to process what just happened. i never skate like that. " better order double the dumplings, 'cause i'm starving, " he tells kolby instead of voicing any of this, tugging off his hoodie as he heads towards his room. " i'm just going to change real quick. "
" see? i told you. i'm a changed man— totally responsible now. aren't you proud of me? " kolby nudges his own sneakers off next to jesse's, turning his head just in time to catch the playful glint he knows too well even if it is short-lived. it's fulfilling for kolby to see something light up in jesse's expression and know that even in a tiny way, he's the cause of it. he watches as jesse continues ahead and dismissively waves off the luggage by the entryway, and briefly considers offering to bring everything in to jesse's room himself just to take some responsibility off of his best friend's shoulders. he knows when to leave things well enough alone for now, but makes a mental note to sneak off and take care of it later when jesse can't protest. with an almost imperceptible sigh, kolby drops the duffel next to jesse's other belongings and calls out a casual, " take your time. " before he makes his way to the living room and flops down unceremoniously onto the couch.
as he gets to work at calling the restaurant and placing their order, his mind wanders in a way that has very little to do with the task at hand and more so regarding what might be running through jesse's mind. kolby knows he can't properly begin to understand the weight of everything on jesse's shoulders, but he's been a first hand witness to how hard jesse has worked for years, and knows that dealing with the fallout of not meeting expectations isn't going to be easy. he ponders over what to say in order to help, or if words will even get his point across enough— kolby doesn't realize he's zoned out in the midst of overthinking until the employee on the other end of the line clears their throat, and he hurriedly forces his attention to snap back in to place their order. " foods supposed to be here in about twenty! " he calls behind him towards jesse's room, tossing his phone carelessly to the side.
open to: m / f / nb. muse: arlo jackson, twenty - eight, nfl player. plot: our muses have been dating secretly for a while, but arlo knows y/m is someone his dad wouldn't approve of and is scared to go public.
« I CAN'T KEEP HAVING this conversation with you, » he begs, but his gaze wavers, unable to hold onto theirs. « i'm trying to protect you. » that apology has begun to wear thin though, when arlo knows that what they have should weigh more than whatever comment a family member can make. that particular part of him is hard to shed though.
ashtyn knows too well what it's like to have a parent that expects too much. her own never seemed to accept her no matter the strides she made to better herself— she liked to think that she had done plenty over the past few years. her relationship with arlo had been a safe haven minus the glaring issue of being kept a secret. while at first she was been just fine with it, lately the reminder only made that deep seated feeling of not being enough grow heavier in her chest. " this doesn't feel like you're trying to protect me, arlo, " her mouth pulls down in a frown, continuing, " it hurts, you know? i can't help but feel like you're embarrassed to be seen with me. "
open to : m / f / nb !
" i don't need you to fix anything , okay ? can we please just fucking drop it . "
he should know better than to poke and prod when the problem stems from him, but how can he sit here when the other seems so obviously miserable? " we can't just drop it. i apologized, what more do you want from me? what's it gonna take for you to stop being so pissy around me? "
open to : m / f / nb ! ( m / nb if romantic )
" it's an award show . it's like five hours long , i just need you to come and smile for a few cameras and pretend like you aren't miserable . it's not that hard . "
" kiiinda hard not to be miserable when there's a shit ton of cameras shoved in my face. " he didn't handle the attention well even on his own day-to-day basis, and he wasn't even under the spotlight nearly as much. " what's in it for me? surely you could ask someone else who'll do a better job. "
cont. : @ad0rati0ns
it wasn't often flynn met someone who didn't immediately melt into a puddle at his feet. he blinked once or twice, clearly taken aback when the blame was instead shifted back onto him. he could've been more careful exiting the venue, sure, maybe in the long run it might do him some good not to walk around like he was entitled to everything. " jeez— alright, got it. not a fan. " though the glint in his eyes suggested he was more amused rather than irritated by the other's obvious distaste. a stubborn part of him wanted to see if he could sway the opinion in a different way. he lifted a hand and motioned to the stranger's head. " you sure you're not hurt? wouldn't exactly look good on me if i let you run off with an injury. "
cont. : @ivygrcws
any trace of smugness on flynn's countenance fades instantly when the b-word is flung at him. brows furrow as he repeats it: " boyband—? " with utter distaste as if it's the worst accusation in the world. to him, it kinda is. they've worked way too hard in carving their niche that being reduced to a group dancing about on stage in matching outfits rubs him the wrong way. " you've gotta be joking, right? have you even given us a listen, or are you just spitting out bullshit? " it only dawns on flynn when he sees the smirk on the other's lips that he might be giving the exact intended reaction. his jaw clenches and he steps back, rolling his eyes. " ...whatever. maybe next time watch where you're going, all absorbed in your phone like that. "
marnie feels her breath catch at the confession. for a second, she just stares at marisol, her fingers curling around her engagement ring. "that's the problem," she admits quietly. "i don't regret it either." how could she? there was a time marnie had secretly been in love with marisol, and she thought she had gotten over it by now. "i keep telling myself it's just pre-wedding panic or self-sabotage, but every time i'm with him it just feels like i'm performing. but when i'm with you, it feels real."
marisol turns her head to look elsewhere, attempting to hide the softening of her expression. even if it's a no-brainer to her, she knows marnie has more to lose. it isn't like marisol is the picture perfect example of a good partner anyways, and it's foolish to expect marnie to walk away from a committed relationship just for the chance they could work out in the end. marisol can't remember the last time she devoted herself to someone, not in the way her heart secretly longs to with marnie. " i... i could be whatever you need, " she finally confesses, " all i know is that it doesn't feel right to see you with him. not when i know i could do better — make you happier. what's a marriage worth if it doesn't feel real anyways? "
open: anyone, m/nb if romantic muse: flynn evans, lead singer of a newly popular band - known for his bad attitude, a string of broken hearts, and picking fights with anyone who shoves a camera in his face. connection: strangers, preferably one who knows about flynn's band and his reputation BUT does not fuck with him at all, could even be someone from a rival band tbh???? plot: the people (ME) yearn for a starstruck inspired plot. something where the conceited rockstar gets humbled by someone who doesn't fawn over him like everyone else.
" shit, my bad- " the apology comes out half assed and rushed, one hand instinctively shooting out to steady the other before they topple over from his carelessness. there's bound to be cameras around, and he'll be damned if someone snaps a single photo of him being anything less than cordial after the stunt last week that earned him an hour long lecture from management. bright blues fixate on the stranger, only mildly disappointed with the lack of admiration in their eyes that he's so used to receiving from everyone else. " you good? guess next time i should be more careful. i wasn't expecting any fans to be back here lurking around after the show. "
open to: anyone; m if romantic muse: taylor abbott (25, professional hockey player)
the walls in his new building were a joke. he could hear everything that his neighbor did and it made him more than a little self conscious that they could hear everything from his apartment too. it wasn't really the volume that bothered him; it was the clarity. he could hear every conversation through the wall behind his couch.
but it was for that reason that when he hadn't heard anything a couple nights in a row, that taylor got worried enough to venture over there and knock on the door to their apartment. "sorry, not a freak. you've just been weirdly quiet." and then he realized they probably don't even know who he is. "i'm next door."
at first, flynn debated on letting the knock go unanswered to save himself from the vulnerability. he wasn't sure what prompted him to begrudgingly meander his way to the door and swing it open to hear the stranger out, but he did despite his better judgement.
" jeez. you've been paying attention that much? can't tell if i'm supposed to be flattered or creeped out. " the deflection came as easily as breathing for the singer, who'd rather die than admit to any kind of loneliness that plagued his usually colorful life as of late. he didn't realize how obvious it had been that things had grown too quiet, but thinking back on it, a couple of days worth of quiet that stemmed from terrible writer's block and exhaustion probably made him stick out. " next door... " he repeated, smirk forming on his face, " you're the one i'm hearing late at night watching tv then? god this place is a shithole. "
open to all -> hunter smith, sports photographer
He couldn't help but smile when his eyes met the others', his fingers gently tracing their arm. "We both know we'd be lying if we said we didn't love this. Nobody is going to know. I don't kiss and tell."
riley let his gaze travel over hunter in quiet contemplation. " god. i hate that you're right. " he finally acquiesced, a smile dancing across his lips as he reached out to intertwine their fingers. " i mean it. i have a reputation to uphold, y'know? can't have you running around telling everyone what we're up to. "
open to all -> isla cheung, music producer
"I could use you, you know?" She tapped her nails on her keyboard as she looked across the table. "Could be the start of a career change?"
" a career change ... ? " ashtyn let the words roll off her tongue as if testing how the idea sounded— breaking away from her band to do any solo work was... well, intimidating, scared the hell out of her in a way she wasn't prepared for. " the offer's tempting, but i've never done anything on my own before. "
the air feels heavy with the weight of what they both refuse to say. jesse knows his own facade is flimsy at best — even if it weren't kolby in the driver's seat next to him, he thinks anyone could see right through him now ( — or maybe, it's because it's kolby that he has so much trouble summoning up that usually easy cheery facade ). " mmm — yeah, " he says noncommittally, feet stretching out before him into the footwell, body sliding just a fraction more down in the seat. " i am really hard to replace. " almost stubbornly he hangs onto that carefree attitude, a little too forced and exaggerated. no doubt kolby can see right through it, but jesse doesn't like the alternative any better. he still feels scraped raw, exposed without his consent after everything that happened. blue eyes stare up resolutely at the red light, even as he feels the weight of kolby's gaze bearing down on him. the instincts battle within him : the urge to be honest with kolby, the reflex to hide any hurts beneath an infallible exterior. he allows himself to reach across the center console, hand pressing over kolby's knee in a familiar weight, voice softer — not so cheery, but closer to genuine. " it's good to be back, though. " he missed him — that is an easy enough fact to recognize, even without the long string of texts and photos still sitting in stark evidence on his phone.
a bit of tension leaves kolby under the familiar and comforting touch of jesse's hand pressed to his knee, a reminder of how much he missed the physical tether that always seemed to persist between them. kolby wonders how much jesse can see through him too. if he can tell just how much kolby's heart seems to try to claw out of his chest just to get a little closer. the corner of his mouth quirks up, a more subdued smile than one kolby might typically wear but full of quiet affection nonetheless. " let's get you home then. " kolby hopes that being in the comfort and privacy of their apartment might put jesse a bit more at ease. a hand drops from the steering wheel to gently pat the top of jesse's, offering a reassuring squeeze of his fingers before returning to the wheel when the light flickers to green and he's forced to focus on driving again. the silence hangs over their heads until kolby turns onto their street and can't take the quiet between them any longer; the urge to care for jesse makes itself known as always. " you hungry or something? i can make us something to eat— " and he'd do his very best not to fuck it up somehow. " ...or we don't have to do anything if you don't feel up to it. i know you're probably exhausted. " kolby adds with faux casualness as he parks the car and unbuckles his seatbelt— he's as patient as he is devoted, willing to stick around for even just a chance that jesse might let his walls crumble for him.
have to stick this in my wishlist tag but i want a plot/ship inspired by lucy and david (cyberpunk edgerunners)........
BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN (2005) dir. Ang Lee
