run faster.

finn hamilton. 25. engineering science masters student. living in linacre.

[finnhamilton]

lane king​:

who: @finnhamilton​

where: beach-side cabana

the cold, sweet juice of the plump strawberry lane had just popped into her mouth had burst, a sheepish grin unfurling on her face in glee. the duo had been lounging in the cabana on the beach for quite some time, having a few food items brought to their side - primarily to lane’s behest. “the fruit here is so much sweeter than it is back in new york,” the blonde cooed, plopping another berry into her mouth before tossing one towards finn. the day had been spent sunbathing, lane fully embracing the animalistic wonder of laying out in the warmth of the sun. “hey, i’ve got an idea. truth or dare?”

      Finn wasn’t exactly comfortable with the whole Ibiza trip. Mostly because he couldn’t take his shirt off without people staring at his scars. So he was sitting there, sweating through his black shirt whenever he didn’t manage to get a seat in the shadow. Right now he did though, while munching on some fruit she had ordered for them. “Yeah, it tastes much better.” He caught the berry she threw at him, a grin on his lips as he ate it. “Is that your idea? Truth or dare? Are we sixteen again?” He shook his head a little, still grinning. “Dare.”

[finnhamilton]

lane king​:

lane had always had quite the sweet tooth — a bad habit that had carried into her adult life with ease. that, coupled with the sheer possibility of allowing her to procrastinate brought a bright grin to her face as the duo darted across the street, trekking the pavement as they made their way toward the café. it was a smaller local spot and they often carried incredible pastries — though the coffee they served could be pretty hit or miss depending on the beans they had in stock. then again, lane was a bit of a snob when it came to her coffee so it could’ve just been her fussy eating habits. her dark eyes brightened at finn’s words, a grin splayed across her lips. “you don’t have to do that,” she reminded him. “but thank you.” with that, lane spun on her heel, greeting the barista in front of her and ordering her usual — an iced dirty chai and a raspberry scone, though she had heavily contemplated their new clementine tart. “looks like you’re up.”

      “I know that. But I want to.” There wasn’t much joy in Finn’s life anymore. He felt lost, without his dream and pursuing an education he never wanted. The only thing he did have was more money than he could spend, so why not invite a friend out for coffee? it was the least he could do, and it made him a little bit happier, and if only for a short while. His order was a black tea with lemon -- he’d given up on coffee during his racing days. It had been energy drinks all the way, but he was trying to cut down on those now too. He also ordered a cheesecake cupcake, his guilty pleasure. Then he let his eyes travel through the café while he waited for his card to register the payment. “Should we take a seat by the window over there?” He gestured towards a free table before accepting their order, handing the chai and scone over to Lane before picking up his own. “This smells delicious, by the way.”

[finnhamilton]

sage walsh​:

“You know,” Sage said, gesturing— “Most people? I like mine, I’d be bummed if it got busted because some girl who can’t figure out where she’s going broke it.” She nodded as her new companion took up his side of the bargain, figuring that either way: she would win. The brunette pursed her lips in consideration, “I think technically we should have a third party to do it, so that we don’t end up with foul play or cheating, but I pinky-promise that I’m honest.” She leaned down, reaching for the sides of the mobile, before bringing it back up, turning it slowly in her palm. Dark eyes squeezed shut in jest, “I can’t look, it’s too much pressure.”

      “It’s just a phone. You can get a new one.” Finn wasn’t particularly attached to his phone. It was just a materialistic piece of technology. And lately it had held nothing but bad news for him anyway, maybe he’d be better off without a phone altogether. At least for a little while. Her words caused him to roll his eyes, but there was a small smirk on his lips before he took a step closer. “Has anyone ever tol. dyouthat you’re a bit dramatic?” It was a joke, spoken light-heartedly before he cast a look at the phone in the palm of her hand. And he had to admit -- he was almost a bit disappointed. “Well, you can look. It’s fine. Not even a smudge on the display.”

[finnhamilton]

quinn aquino​:

        his eyes continued to move between the other’s face and the pizza box that he held out in his hand. finn and quinn weren’t close friends, no hard feelings at all, just didn’t get the time to sit around and chat too often. “listen: been there, done that.” he chuckled, nodding his head as he nodded his head. “i’ll take it off your hands for sure if you really don’t want it.”

      Finn forced a laugh to fall from his lips at those words. He couldn’t show that something was wrong, he never could. He’d been raised to hold a perfect facade, and it wasn’t about to crumble now that he had to give up on his dream and return to Rye. “Yeah, right?” A phrase that was said just to say something, not to entice an answer or express anything but uncertainty. “I’m sure. 100% sure. You can have it.” He held the pizza out again and grinned. “Come on, take it off my hands before the rats come and get it.”

[finnhamilton]

adrian casillas​:

If there’s irritation in the other man’s voice, Adrian doesn’t notice it, too concentrated on the vision that’s just filled his head. His pencil begins moving furiously against the page as his gaze jumps back and forth between it and his inspiration. “Stay. Stay. Just like that, if you can,” he answers quickly, almost absentmindedly, much more focused on his artwork. He can get like this, sometimes, not that Adrian really has enough self-awareness in the moment to realize it. So fixated on one thing, everything else tends to fall to the wayside. It’s only after a few minutes of furious sketching that he finds himself happy with the outline that’s been added to the piece, and a bit of his manners return to him. “Sorry, you just looked perfect. Like what was missing. I didn’t want it to slip away before I could at leas get the profile down. You can go now, if you want. But if you want to stay, that’d be great.” 

      Finn knew how to model for someone. He’d been in front of a camera before, more than once, mostly for photos for the sport he’d participated in so passionately, but there had been one or two campaigns for fashion as well. This was not that though, he couldn’t help but just stare in confusion, unsure what the guy actually wanted from him. That he cast a shadow? Or that he was actually part of whatever he was doing there? “I looked perfect? Not the first time I’ve heard that but not in this sort of situation,” he clarified, the question mark still written all over his face. “Don’t really have anywhere to go.” He did have a class to go to actually, but he wasn’t in the mood. “But are you going to tell me what you’re doing there first?”

[finnhamilton]

sage walsh​:

Sage tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, brushing her fingertips against the backside of her earrings. Studs and tiny hoops were what lined the lobe, a style that she had borrowed from her mother, wearing the brands that their family had come to represent. It was subtle, a tiny flash of wealth that sparkled in low light, and the cool metal touch was a reminder of it— the brunette untucked the hair to put it back over where it had been. “Alright, I’m betting that it’s perfect condition, not a single chip. Your case looks kinda dubious though, that might be fucked. The glass though? It’ll be fine.”

    “Who cares about the case?” Finn had to laugh about her comment. It was a sleek black case, something one could find in any store or online shop. He folded his arms in front of his chest, then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, since you bet it’s fine, I have to bet it’s not, right? I say the screen is broken.” Gesturing with one hand towards the phone, he smiled at her. “Do you want to do the honors of picking it up?”

[finnhamilton]

lane king​:

a goofy grin unfurled across her lips when he agreed to coffee, a firm nod shaking her head as she grasped onto his hand. the small blonde stood up in her place, making sure she had all the items she needed before they both darted off to the café across the street. “i hope they’ve still got a few cheese danishes,” lane purred, the duo making their way out of the room and maneuvering their way through the streets of rye with ease. “if not a danish, at least a raspberry scone.”

    He wasn’t as quick as her, but Lane’s enthusiasm was enough to put a smile on Finn’s lips and make him laugh. It was a rarity these days. He had turned from a positive, constantly grinning man into a grumpy pessimist. Smiling wasn’t his daily business anymore. “I’m sure we can get one of those things for you, if not both.” Finn winked at her before he followed her lead, the short way towards the café was quickly conquered. He pushed the door open, gesturing door Lane to go inside first. “It’s my treat, you can get what you want.”

[finnhamilton]

sage walsh​:

It must have been quite the sight, to anyone passing by. The two of them stood there, peering down a the mobile that had taken its tumble: surely it could be considered to be her fault for failing to pay attention, but he had been careless as well in the way that he had barrelled around the corner, the only difference had been that her belongings hadn’t taken the liberty to fly from her possession. “A bet, why not?” Sage looked up, catching dark eyes as he laughed. The brunette swallowed, letting burgeoning shyness settle in the pit of her stomach in favour for something more bold, “Lunch, maybe? Loser pays.”

      Finn was incredibly competitive. Maybe not as much as he used to be, but it was in the DNA of every race driver. You couldn’t compete in motorsports if you didn’t want to win, and that sort of just outstretched to the rest of his life. Every single aspect of it. And that was why he couldn’t really say no to the offer of a bet either, no matter how stupid it all was. Any outstanding person would think they were crazy -- and hey, maybe they were. But wasn’t everyone a little bit crazy? “Alright, I’m in. Loser pays for lunch.”

[finnhamilton]

quinn aquino​:

        his eyes looked up at the man in front of him who sported half of a shockingly good looking pizza, almost too good to be true in some cases. “you don’t want it? are you crazy?” quinn chuckled, chewing the rest of the fries that were stuffed into his mouth. of course he wouldn’t want to waste such a good pizza either, but was there a catch? “did you drop it? poison it? or is it a week old?” he was teasing of course, shining of a playful grin.

    Finn shrugged his shoulders, not really in the mood to explain why he didn’t want the pizza. It just happened sometimes, ever since his accident. Maybe because of the meds. Halfway through a meal he lost al his appetite. It happened all the time. “None of that. It’s a perfectly good pizza,” he pointed out with a crooked smile. “Guess I’ve already eaten too much today, I just can’t eat anymore.”

[finnhamilton]

cal dekker​:

His head raises at the sound of a familiar voice, away from the ball between his feet that previously held Cal’s attention. A grin spreads across his face, immediately abandoning the drills he was currently practicing in favor of the return of an old friend. “Look what the cat dragged in,” his voice is damn near jovial, closing the distance quickly until Finn is close enough that he can wrap his arms around the other man. Cal gives a convivial clap against his shoulders as he pulls away, but his smile still stretches from ear to ear as he regards his former roommate. “Damn, didn’t think I’d see you back here again.”

      There were very few things that could bring Finn joy now that he had returned to Rye despite thinking he‘d never have to step another foot onto this campus ever again. But seeing his former roommate was definitely one of them. A small smile bloomed on his lips — nothing compared to the smile he used to wear, but close enough. He was pulled into a hug he hadn‘t fully expected, and the clap on his shoulder rippled through his whole body, caused a stinging pain in his lower back that he smiled away. Finn returned the hug before pulling sway slightly. “You and me both man,” he agreed, his smile now more forced. “But I guess now I need a proper education.” A lame, almost bitter, joke. “How’ve you been?”

[finnhamilton]

quinn aquino​:

he sat on the steps of one of the larger buildings on campus, eating out of the generic cardboard boxes that the dining hall gives out to students which included mediocre fries and the same chicken tenders they’ve served everyday of the school year so far. “i personally find it kind of bullshit that they stop serving breakfast at like 11am, i’d prefer soggy waffles over these soggy fries pretty much.. any day.”

     “You want pizza instead?” Most days, Finn didn’t actually have a proper appetite. Not anymore. He figured it came with the whole losing his dream, but today he had been starving for once. And then he would not satiate his hunger with the bad dining hall food. He’d ordered pizza, but halfway through, he felt stuffed. Now he offered the pizza box, lid open to reveal the inside. “I don’t want it anymore but I don’t want to throw it away.”

[finnhamilton]

sage walsh​:

Sage hadn’t been paying attention— that much was obvious. Her gaze had been set on a particularly vibrant set of hair clips that faded from view before she could ask where they had come from, or rather, before she careened dead on into the chest of a man she hardly recognized outside of the soccer field at Rye. The crash of the phone made her wince, and she looked up and fixed her expression into something apologetic. “I’m so, so sorry.” She would have moved immediately to sweep up the mobile for him, but his lashes were long enough that she got distracted, closing a dry mouth and swallowing before doing so. “I wasn’t holding anything, but this is my fault.” Her fingers lingered over the back of the phone, before she glanced back up. “I’m scared to turn it over,” Sage admitted, “If it’s broken I swear I’ll replace it, but right now, it’s like Schrodinger’s phone screen. Wanna take a bet on it?”

     “Yeah,” Finn simply said, because he thought it was kind of her fault. Maybe it was better if the phone was broken — it would mean he could catch a break. Affording a new one wouldn’t be a problem, so her offer was one he waved off with a shake of his head. “It’s fine, I can get a new one if it’s broken.” What were the chances? The stupid glass display was as vulnerable as a dream. “A bet?” And now he had to laugh, because that was so damn surreal. “You want to bet whether it’s broken or not? What would the winner get?”

[finnhamilton]

lane king​:

he made a good point — sitting in a chair at a desk all day made your whole body stiff. that, coupled with the rather bland subject matter of most courses offered at rye made the classes a real snooze-fest. a chuckle burst from the blonde’s plush lips, dark eyes rolling as she nodded. she understood the sentiment well. perhaps rye should invest in research into keeping in motion while doing classwork — maybe professors could give lectures from the center of a track while students walked. unlikely to ever actually occur, but a girl could dream. “me, hungry?” she questioned with a devilish grin. “always. i could also go for some coffee — little cafe across the street, my treat ? ”

    Lane’s reply was enough to put a crooked smile on Finn’s lips. His appetite was a funky thing ever since his accident, but letting that show to his surroundings was not something he could do — people would notice, then worry, and annoy him in the end. “You’re right, why did I even ask?”, he teased. “Coffee sounds amazing right now.” Getting up from his seat, Finn offered her a hand to pull her up. “Let’s go before the best pastries are gone.”

[finnhamilton]

who: @sage-walsh​

     “Are you kiddin--” Finn didn’t get to finish the sentence. His body collided with a lighter one, his hand didn’t manage to grasp his phone tighter in time, and it shattered to the floor with the display down. “For fuck’s sake,” he cursed under his breath, before looking up at the young woman standing before him who he had just managed to run into. Maybe if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in being told what his archenemy on the track was up to, he would have actually looked where he was going. But he couldn’t bring himself to do more than groan. “Sorry,” he mumbled, before staring down at his phone once more. Maybe he should just let it lie there. “Hope you didn’t drop anything.”

[finnhamilton]

who: @lanefm​

      “I hate having to sit in that stupid classroom all day. It makes you all stiff.” Finn dropped down onto the seat next to Lane, crossing his arms over his chest. Of course, it was quite the change -- from sculpting his body to the extreme of driving a motor race to this. And the leftovers of his injuries didn’t exactly help with the general stiffness that seemed to sit in his muscles. But if Finn was one thing nowadays, it was pessimistic, and spiteful of the life he now had to lead in contrast to the one he dreamt of. Turning his head in Lane’s direction, he tried a smile. “Are you hungry? Do you want to go somewhere to eat?”

[finnhamilton]

adrian casillas​:

where: somewhere on campus status: open ! 

A 2B pencil sits in his hand as he presses it against the page, lackadaisical sketch forming where there should be coursework. The History of the Golden Age, that’s what his focus should be on— specifically, the artistic styles that emerged from it. But instead, Adrian finds himself much more entertained by capturing the landscape, the harshness of winter fading is beautiful in it’s own way. The sun feels warm against his face and so Adrian chooses to enjoy the day and worry about other things later, until another student manages to plant themselves right in the middle of his frame of reference. “Excuse me, could you just—” he begins, but cuts himself off just as quickly, thoughts flipping in direction as new inspiration hits, “actually, do you mind staying there? That’s perfect.”

      Finn had promised himself not to do this again. It was hard enough to return to Rye and pretend as if he hadn‘t lived another, much better, life. But to read up on the successes of his worst enemies just made it all so much worse. Phone in hand, he balled his hand into a fist without realizing that he‘d stopped dead in his tracks. Not until a voice cut through to him. Confused, he looked up and at the other. “What? So should I stay or go? Make up your mind man.”

[tylerposey]

MASON GOODING I Want You Back — directed by Jason Orley (2022)