Mike Driver
shark vs the universe
will byers stan first human second
oozey mess
Jules of Nature
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pixel skylines
todays bird
gracie abrams
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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Love Begins
taylor price
YOU ARE THE REASON
noise dept.
Kiana Khansmith
JVL
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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seen from Germany
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@invcntions
— INVCNTIONS. indie, semi - selective ( and all over the place activity ) multi - muse rp blog. penned by casey, 29, she / her, gmt.
guidelines. wanted plots. muses. wanted opposites. starters.
psa: i've been on tumblr on and off for forever, 10+ years, and i truly mean it when i say things are chilled. drop threads, have hundreds of threads, yell with me until the early hours, send 500 memes. it's literally all good and encouraged.
up to date MUSES under the cut
truthfully, she couldn't have repeated a single thing the guy had said. something about his major... or his dad's company. maybe an internship ? honestly they all started sounding the same after a while. gigi nodded where it seemed appropriate, offered the occasional " mhm. " every thirty seconds or so while her orbs wandered anywhere but the poor guy currently trying his absolute hardest to impress her. the volleyball game. someone attempting a cartwheel. the stage where the band was finishing setting up. anywhere. everywhere. mostly though, she was trying to find her way out. him. thankfully, it didn't take long. she didn't even spot brooks at first. just caught the familiar scent before she felt the weight of an arm settle comfortably across her shoulders. oh thank god. the plastic cup had barely reached her hand before she took a long sip. the stranger muttered his goodbye somewhere off to the side. gigi didn't even think to offer one back. " he was nice. just so. fucking. boring, oh my god. " she wasn't looking for a networking opportunity or whatever he'd been going on about for the last five minutes. she wanted something — interesting. why was it every person that approached her looking at her like they were already mentally planning their five year plan ? " considering he was, like… half a foot shorter than you, I doubt it. " brown hues swept across the backyard, studying clusters of strangers as though she might stumble across the perfect volunteer. " though… " the corner of her mouth tugged upward. " at least that would've been entertaining. hot. I might be able to find someone else. " the search lasted all of three seconds before another thought interrupted it. " but then I'd have to worry about you getting hurt. " her attention drifted back to him, words laced with something genuine. " and messing up this pretty face. let's shelf it. " her nose gave a little scrunch. " maybe circle back later. "
his arm lingers for far longer than it needs to, comfortable around her shoulders in a way brooks is sure he shouldn't be — yet he's done this so many times before, by now it's almost second nature. after all, it's better to be certain the guy got the message, that there's no chance of the stranger weasling his way back over when he next leaves gigi's side. “ nice. ” he repeats with the quirk of a brow. “ looked a little sleazy to me. ” though most these frat guys do, a preconception that brooks has no desire to change when he's never got on board with their whole testosterone filled outlook. a grin can't help but stretch to his lips at the observation, arm finally dropping back down to his side so he can turn and face gigi properly. “ mh, we can see how many drinks it takes before you want to see two guys fight far more than you care about my complexion. ” he teases, raising the cup to his lips as his gaze darts round the party. despite the joking, he's never been much of a fighter. for a guy of his height and build, he's still always far preferred a more peaceful resolution than the need to use fists. still, if there's anything that might change that, it's the way some guys act around her. “ alright, ” he ponders aloud, gaze shifting from the brunette to the band setting up on stage. “ what's the game today? ” drinking game. not that they need it. he'll never drop a tradition though, and definitely not one that gets him drunk enough to forget the previous night's hangover. “ you want to drink every time tadeo winks to someone in the crowd? or marcus starts clapping before the song's actually over? ”
" damn, didn't realize I was walking into sixty minutes. " the glance he shot marcus carried just enough amusement to make it obvious he wasn't actually accusing him of anything. " wait can we curse on here ? sorry. " orbs drifted back toward the microphone. he wasn't entirely sure how marcus managed to make talking into one of those things seem natural. he had spent years on stages. performed in front of hundreds of people. that part never bothered him. performing was nothing. he could just get lost in it. conversation required significantly more concentration to not stumble. his fingers drummed idly against the edge of the desk. truthfully, he'd expected questions about the band. maybe what they were playing next semester. favorite venues. whether tadeo really took an hour to choose guitar strings. not… that. his brows pinched together ever so slightly. how many of them are you ? what — or who — are you writing about ? kind of exactly where he was stuck right now. for a moment his focus drifted toward the notebook still sitting abandoned on the couch.. fucking mocking him. " that's… " his nose scrunched slightly. " kind of a loaded question. depends on the song. tadeo writes, we all write together. it's collaborative. " his shoulders lifted in an absent shrug. " sometimes they're about a person or one conversation. " he took a pause, clearly really thinking through it. " sometimes it's just… a feeling you can't really get rid of. " his gaze found marcus again. " and sometimes it's about a fucking ham and cheese sandwich that just really hit. " he used to be the one overflowing with ideas. that was what had him so strung out now. things came to him, but nothing fit quite right. it was like someone took five puzzles and mixed them all together, told him to get it done. it wasn't exactly like there was any pressure.. just pissed him off to find himself here. " what's your favorite song then ? I'll tell you who wrote it. " an attempt at getting his thoughts off his slump unintentionally causing him to switch from interviewee to interviewer.
“ that's because you don't listen to me enough to know i only specialise in hard-hitting journalism. ” he teases, aware that of everyone who's put up with listening to him over the years, ezra has endured it the most. “ it's like 2am, ez — no one cares if you curse on the radio. ” though it does warm something deep in his chest to know the other male will consider it. there's a small part of marcus that had expected no response, to be met with protests at a question that is perhaps a little too upfront for thirty seconds into an interview he's forced the other male to do. the sincerity he's offered instead can't help but soften his expression. they don't do this regularly, drop all joking, talk openly about things that are personal even if they're performed in front of a crowd. a feeling you can't get rid of. marcus knows that well, can imagine it's nice to have a way to express it that isn't through rambling nonsense. “ well, that's not fair. ” he shakes his head as the question is turned back on him. “ you know i like all your songs. ” though it's a poor answer, features scrunching softly as he thinks back through. “ favourite... i guess northbound, or the paper skies one. ” it's a strange realisation that he's never given the answer much consideration before, but they're the songs that make him stop what he's doing to listen, free him from a mess of jumbled thoughts and distractions of focus on one thing for the few minutes they're on. “ but now you've told me, i think my favourite will be whichever is about a sandwich. ” he jokes in a quick attempt to distract from what suddenly feels like an overshare on the radio, even for him. it's always going to be too personal when it involves ezra.
" okay, yes well — " the defense came noticeably weaker this time. " I did abandon that idea. I was just.. brainstorming. " a tiny shrug followed. " think I'll keep you for myself, sounds a lot better. " which unfortunately came with the problem she had from the begging, the guilt lingering around. it wouldn't disappear. but.. if anything, it probably should've been getting worse. so why was it that the longer she spent around him, the quieter it became ? " I'm just… with her a lot. " a sigh fell off her. " if I'm with naina, I don't text you back. doesn't mean I don't want to. " actually it was the opposite. seeing that fake contact name light up across her phone while naina sat beside her was unbelievably distracting. she'd read the notification. smile. lock her phone. pretend she hadn't seen it. then spend the next hour wondering what he'd said. you know you've already got me. she blinked. once. " …I do ? " question came quieter than she'd intended. almost to herself. checking that she had actually heard him correctly. somewhere between late night conversations and sneaking around campus, this had quietly become something she couldn't help but look forward to. something she missed. something she was attached to. which was… terrifying. backpedaling suddenly felt impossible. his suggestion finally coaxed another smile back onto her face. " I always come to your shows. " the words carried a hint of confusion. " what does that have to do with anything ? " then sudden realization flashed across her features. eyes widening. " wait. " a pause. " you didn't write some call out song about my delayed text responses. " accusation came with the tiniest laugh. " I'll do better, " slightly dramatized words fell alongside puppy dog orbs. " baby I promise. "
despite his own persistence on the joking, there's no part of tadeo that truly envisages a world where millie just lets him go. call it arrogance, the sort that comes from rarely being turned down as a guy in a not unsuccessful, campus band — it's more than that though, the silent knowledge that what the two of them have is better than what most people get to find. things make sense around millie. it feels right with her. “ you need a new best friend. ” he sighs, a hand lifting to push through dark hair in a thoughtful habit. “ or she needs a new... someone. i'm serious, mils. if not ezra, i'll find her someone else. anyone. what does she like? ” he must know someone single who would be interested, it's not as if naina isn't great, she just isn't the one for him. thoughts flick back through a mental rolodex of the other guys on campus, he can definitely find options, set the scene with a few romantic songs and perhaps that'll be enough — he makes a mental note to run it by ezra, a particularly sappy set might be slightly off brand for the band, but he's sure the other male will be on board for a good cause. “ i didn't write a call out song about your painfully slow texting. ” he confirms, lips curving up in an amused grin “ though i could do. ” it's offered as a suggestion, one that just about holds up as his gaze meets the familiar brown eyes. no one should have this much power so easily, the word baby falling from her lips and it occurs to tadeo he might kill a man if she asked him too. “ i may have written a song about how unfair it is that you look this good and i'm supposed to not notice. ”
“ew, gross. no, thanks. I’m not texting... girls, for you. especially not...” Dani’s nose wrinkled, gaze narrowing, “the ones... you’re interested in. offense, implied, by the way.” for starters, she had no business knowing, any more than she already did, about Marcus’ approach to... wooing a lady, insight she’d gained, thus far, having already made it difficult enough to look him in the eye, now and again, as it was. second, just as she’d said, she had no interest in any further exposure to his particular type, than that her friendship with him all but guaranteed. third... well. her third, and final, reason remained mostly subconscious, shoved down, stepped on, cast aside, whenever it dared rear its ugly head. the smallest, nearly imperceptible twinge of... something, that might have, maybe, resembled jealousy. truth was, as much as Dani hated attention, avoided drawing it to herself, whenever possible, she quite liked when Marcus’ was fixed on her, and her, alone. not that she would ever admit it. “no, but, seriously,” brunette continued, “where are you finding these people? Bimbos R Us?” albeit phrased as a joke, it was, in fact, a legitimate question, face a picture of disgust. when Marcus’ initial attempts to wave down bartender went unnoticed, Dani gave it another few seconds, if only to spare ego, before lifting hand, of her own, fingers wagging in the male’s direction, a sweet, deliberately flirtatious grin gracing features, she caught his eyes with embarrassing ease. “fine,” conceded, with a nonchalant shrug, as he began to make his way over. “none of that woo-woo, girly bullshit, though.”
features scrunch at her distaste, thoughts flicking momentarily back through the people he's shown interest in. there's nothing too wrong with them. sure, a few were awful people, but a few he's also still friends with. he likes to think of himself as non-discriminant in that way, willing to give anyone a chance, even if a couple do turn out to be soul-destroying demons. “ don't ew, gross me. ” he scoffs softly, though amusement tugs far too easily over his features. “ there's nothing wrong with my type, some of them are actually quite cool, and all of them are way out of my league so — ” he has to be doing something not totally incorrect. even if dani seems pretty insistent on the opposite. “ besides, ” the thought falls with a soft hum. “ you do not want to bring up the topic of bad taste. ” he's not sure he's ever seen her with a guy who marcus didn't immediately despise, as if it's possible to identify red flags from a haircut and a handful of facial expressions. it's a painfully sobering thought, one he's quickly ready to drown in something stronger when he's more than aware that dani's type is who he'll lose people to every time. arms cross on the counter at the ease with which she ( of course ) gets the bartender's attention, head dropping to rest on them with a soft groan. “ get six tequilas. ” he grumbles. “ then as soon as they're done, get six more. on repeat, until i remember absolutely nothing. ”
sage sighs, brows rising as he runs his fingers through his hair. what marcus had just dumped on him had been a lot without much room to weigh in, and sage is still finding his footing. he’s not good with this shit, never has been. “i mean… you’re definitely being ghosted, my guy.” he says, apologetic expression painted on his features as he throws his hands up – that’s that. “but i did get bad vibes, and i’m pretty sure i told you they weren’t worth your time. yet, here we are…” he crosses his legs at the ankle, slides back in his seat, and regards marcus quietly. “it’s brutal out there, man, but i admire you for putting yourself out there. the right one will come along. you’re young. don’t lament too much, it’s not like you were in love...”
he groans softly at the confirmation it's ghosting, words marcus doesn't need to hear aloud to realise are true, yet it's far harder to ignore now he has done. “ can we at least pretend the basis for your support isn't i told you so. ” even if it's the truth, joking just about lacing the tone when it's always been his preferred method of dealing with things — it's easier with sage around, his mood always lifting in the other male's company despite what may have brought it down initially. “ but i want to be in love. ” he sighs, arms crossing in front of him as marcus rests his weight lazily on them. “ i'd be so good at love. you know what i'm not good at? dating. it's all mind games and second guessing. how are you meant to get to the good part when the first part is such a nightmare? ”
"my solution is get to higher ground, and that's what yours should be too." he pauses for a brief moment, hand covering his forehead with sheer exasperation like something out of a movie he would've helped produce back before the world they all once knew broke apart. "look, you know how the rain gets. it's not like before. if you don't come with us ... you're not gonna be able to get up the mountain when you realize it's your only fucking choice." as quickly as they'd stopped, they pick up again, throwing shit into a bag and picking it up to feel its weight every time they do. "the mud's gonna be out of control. trust me on that, ok ?" it's a last ditch effort to convince him. after this, enzo's conscious will be clear. "fresh water won't matter when it's choking your lungs."
michael's watching the scene unfold in horror. he's made it long enough with enzo to know that enzo knows what he's talking about. he trusts him with his life ( more than once over actually. ) his eyes catch cody's and he shakes his head immediately, mind split between two outcomes but his heart steadily in one and one alone. "i'm not leaving cody." gaze quickly shifting to hudson in panic, he tries to come up with a solution. "hudson, you gotta let cody go with enzo. and you should too. we'll be safer all together no matter if we stay or if we go." and it's clear enzo's going. this is the first severe danger they've all faced as a group ( the bar is high these days, ) and it occurs to michael his position in this end-of-civilization scenario has changed. he's now responsible for cody's safety just as much, if not more, than his own. he'd never live with himself otherwise.
the logic is strong, sensible enough for hudson to hold back his immediate desire to protest as brown eyes glance to rainfall currently hammering against the windowpanes. enzo's right, it isn't like before. “ the mud's already gonna be too much for an easy climb. ” he shakes his head, hand raising to rub anxiously across tired features. “ someone will slip, get hurt — even if they don't, we'll be soaked through for days out there. what happens when someone gets sick? when no one can sleep after a week of no shelter? ” they're screwed either way, he can hear it in his own words. at least enzo thinks there's hope in leaving. “ cody can go wherever he wants to go. ” attention shifts quickly over to the two guys at the far side of the room. he won't be responsible for putting either of them in danger, not by making their choice when he doesn't know it's the right one. “ i'm just asking everyone to think this through, not to make a rash decision. ”
he relaxes ever slightly at michael's words, feels the ache in his chest subside even if what follows does nothing to help the unease that takes its place. “ i don't know. ” cody mutters, glancing between hudson and the guy he already knows what it feels like to lose. there's no way he can do that again. “ we have a home here. i like it here, hollis likes it here. ” with their little vegetable garden, kitchen, the comforts that once felt impossible. “ we have beds. ” and god, he's missed beds. all of that is material though, nowhere near as important as the knowledge that enzo looked after michael before cody found him. kept him safe. and cody owes him everything for that. “ do you want to go? ” he questions softly, gaze shifting back to michael as if it's possible to ask him without either of the others hearing. it's the only part of this that actually matters. he'll take whatever time they're able to get together, especially in a world where they don't know how much of it there'll be.
"ew, no, marcus, what the fuck?" flick replies, reaching towards him in an attempt to pluck the phone out of his hands and away from his eye line. out of sight, out of mind. "i didn't fuckin' like them. you couldn't tell?" in the few meetings they had, flick unceremoniously made a bad impression. unfortunately, not a surprise. flick has an incurable foot-in-mouth disorder. they are someone who calls it like they see it, often to the dismay of others (and maybe herself). the blunt expression is something she considers a kindness, like it's the truth and not some skewed perspective. "i told you i didn't trust them, block their ass." this is as much as she allows herself to go in the i-told-you-so of it. even she knows she shouldn't rub salt in an already irritated wound. flick sighs, and leans her elbows against her criss-crossed knees, hands balled into fists to rest her chin on. "...do you want to go slash their tires?"
“ yeah, but i don't know if that counts for as much when you don't really like anyone. ” marcus teases, ignoring pointing out just how highly he actually values flick's opinion. it's needed more often than it isn't, the upfront honesty a welcome contrast to his own ability to avoid real life. “ fine. ” he sighs, head resting back as blues eyes glance reluctantly to the phone now in his friend's grip. “ but from here on out you're responsible for all my dating decisions. ” lips can't help but curl softly up at the thought, a brief restbite from the faint twist in his chest. it's foolish to care so much about someone who clearly doesn't in return, yet knowing better has never helped him not linger on that fact. flick always does. “ slash their tires? ” he feigns consideration, features scrunching softly before a grin finds its way to his lips. “ i don't know how much better mild vandalism will make me feel. ”
HE ONLY SHRUGS EASILY, takes everything nate says with a grain of salt when he knows that if he pushes for hard enough, insists for long enough, his best friend will eventually give in. royce uses this knowledge with caution though — nate's friendship is far too valuable to risk, even a boy as foolish as he knows this. by now it seems impossible though: they've fused together, inseparable in ways that annoy the people around them to no end. royce can't imagine life looking any different though. « maybe all i want is for you to accept that you're hot, » he points out, shooting him a meaningful glance as he settles on a tie and begins to carefully tie it around the other's neck. he's so close he can feel his best friend's breath against his skin. « correct. and you are my favorite victim. » he adjusts the tie, taking a step back to regard nate. he always looks good, but there's pride shooting through royce now at the fact that he'll attend this wedding as his date. as friends, of course. there's still pride though. « why ? i like the weirdos. no need to worry yourself man, you'll always be my favorite weirdo. » he puts his hands on nate's shoulders, spinning him around so they're both looking at him in the mirror. « oh man, we're about to eat this shit up. »
even in their friendship, it had taken nate a while to confirm royce wasn't flirting with him — it's just how the other male is, oddly complimentary in a way he learnt he doesn't entirely mind, affectionate in a way that isn't entirely unpleasant, but only if it's coming from royce. nate accepts it all with a familiar roll of his eyes, faint smile daring to creep on the corners of his lips as messy curls shake quickly. “ i am hot. ” he agrees. “ just not this, like this, i look like i'm gonna go work in a bank — our friendship's on thin ice if this is your type. ” he can't imagine much worse than seeing royce at the side of some rich asshole, someone comfortable in the suit he shuffles awkwardly in as he resists the temptation to reach up and loosen his tie the moment his best friend steps away. it would only ever be for royce. “ well, there is something seriously broken about your taste. ” he hums in absentminded agreement, brief amusement distracted by glancing to the almost familiar version of himself staring back from the mirror. “ just don't abandon me at this thing. ” nate sighs, gaze flicking up to meet the other male's eyes in the reflection. “ i'm serious, i need you there. if you see me making small talk, you owe me so much alcohol. and if i have to speak to anyone's recently single cousin, i'm making a run for it. ”
SHE KNOWS HE MEANS to joke, knows that he appreciates this life even if it's not the dream he's always held so close to his heart. it doesn't stop stinging though — the knowledge that they're both working jobs they feel no passion for, to ensure the very best future they can for children they rarely see at the same time for longer than a few minutes at a time. it's dangerous to linger in the comfort and familiarity of this situation when it's not hers to have anymore. she always knows she misses him, but never as much as when he's here, a breath away, hand so close she can stretch her own out and intertwine their fingers again. but she ruined that long ago. « who knows, maybe they'll be good at it. » it used to be easy to joke like this, to coax a laugh out of him, and now it's grown into an old routine she feels she no longer has any right to perform. « oh. it didn't go well ? » she asks, despite the fact that she has no desire to know. still, there's a sick relief in knowing it wasn't anything serious. this time it wasn't serious. she's not foolish enough to believe that luck will follow her for long when tadeo is the catch that he is. « that sounds good, yeah. i mean, we could have dinner without that too, » she suggests, attempting a natural smile. what on earth is she doing ? « i mean, it's been some time since we ... you know. we're still friends, right ? » if only for the sake of their children.
he doesn't doubt their children can be good at it ( as good as it's possible for two young kids to be ). tadeo's already come to the conclusion that the twins will be able to do anything they put their mind to — sure, he might be bias, but as far as he's concerned there's no other children in the world quite as capable as their own. and he's almost certain they have max to thank for that. it definitely didn't come from him. “ it didn't go badly. ” he sighs at the mention of his date. “ it just — it wasn't anything, really. ” there's a twist of guilt in his stomach at talking to her about it, one he does his best to force down at the reminder max had broken up with him, that she has no issue with him seeing someone else. “ not sure i ever learnt how to date someone i didn't already know. ” someone who isn't her. that's the problem with falling in love so young, every mistake he's meant to make still has to be learnt from. every new thing he's now supposed to try is compared to the memory of what he had with her. it's no other woman's fault they can't live up to that, only him who's able to accept they probably never will do. “ dinner just the two of us? ” the suggestion catches him off guard, features pulling to a faint frown as he thinks back through the words to be sure he's understood them correctly. the expression vanishes almost as quickly as it arrived, replaced with a soft smile that's offered wuickly in her direction. “ yeah, alright. ” he agrees before he can give it far too much thought. “ would be good to know what's going on in your life, my parents won't stop asking. ”
Hero Fiennes Tiffin as Sherlock Holmes Young Sherlock (2026—) Season 1
“well. yeah.” a bashful smile breaks across omar’s face, warmth blooming over the nape of his neck as he nods, “this is important to me.” this, you, wholly and unpredictably. both of his worlds meld together in juke’s commentary. he calls it something that feels familiar, and omar can’t help the peal of tickled laughter that bubbles past his lips. for a resounding moment, he’s only omar, unmasked by the way juke smiles at him. “yeah, he’s cool. heard he’s a fun hang, too. easy on the eyes.” and maybe he’s laying it on a little thick, jesting too close to the sun. but how can he help the levity juke brings about in him? what if he doesn’t want to?
the thought touches down like lightning, bright and brilliant at the forefront of his mind, and renders omar dumbstruck; what if this could work? all his worrying and wondering if he’s a monster to want it has left omar bereft to think that maybe juke could want it, too. what to do with the way juke looks at him, trusting and real, without even knowing his eyes? he swallows carefully, bringing the bottle up and only just touching the rim to his lower lip. charmed to the marrow by juke’s harried clarification, how he seems to answer every burning question he can’t bring himself to ask aloud. like they’ve known each other deeper, longer.
what if this could work?
cheeks puff around a stifled exhale, and he shifts where he stands like he’s overwhelmed curiosity clattering behind his teeth. “so you haven’t gone out with other, uh, 'superheroes' before?” he asks it lithely, but necessity burns underneath. the bottle rolls between his palms, as shockjock teeters in place. “it’s a bad gig, y’know. being with one.” under the mask, his eyes have zeroed in on juke’s face, watching raptly. “lots of waiting up at night. you see more guts than glory.” a long swig to stall, before adding, “puts you at risk.”
the threat of reality hangs overhead now, dense. omar frees a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, the touch grounding and rippling with nettled electricity at the same time. “the secret identity thing, it's annoying. but it keeps you safe. all i've ever known is keeping people safe.” fingers graze over the folded-up line of the mask, tempting fate. "i don't know what to do with this. you. you're fucking me up, man." the joining laugh is brittle, wary. "just mush in me, all week. you heard it yourself. it's - i. i really like talking to you, too."
it's an affronting realisation how long it's been since he last felt as if he was truly important to someone. the other male says it like it's just a passing comment, yet juke feels the world around them stop in a heartbeat. it's never been this easy before, to find someone, to fall for them, it's only taken two meetings and a handful of texts for him to know he's screwed. that and the way reality comes crashing back down at shockjock's words, the side of his cheek catching between his teeth as he processes the mention of the radio dj. “ yeah? you and him have a thing then? ” this cool, fun, easy on the eyes guy that for a second juke can't help but resent. though he does know better, forcing the feeling to one side in order to focus on the man in front of him now. other superheroes. it's enough to bring the smile back to his features, a hand lifting to push through messy hair as he studies the masked face and can't help but wonder what the expression underneath it looks like. “ god, no. ” he grins, head shaking at the suggestion. “ no other superheroes. you're the first one i've met. ” the only one it's possible to imagine feeling anything for when the concept of them is more like a story. shockjock is real. even if it isn't his real name. juke can feel it in the way he laughs, the pauses he takes between saying what he wants to, and the times he doesn't think to pause at all — the guy underneath the maks is sincere. so incredibly sincere it makes his own chest hurt. “ i'm up at night anyway. ” juke points out before he allows himself to consider what it is he's fighting for. “ bartender, remember, your hours are my hours. ” and it has to be easier than making things work with someone who's in an office all day. still, juke pauses at the thought of a partner who's so often hurt, swallows done the sudden ache that twists in his chest — he's already seen shockjock heal before, has firsthand experience knowing he can do what other people can't. perhaps that would make it easier, and if not, is it not better to be there to help than to know he's hurting alone. “ from what i've experienced, being with you is far less risk than not. ” he adds softly, catching the fact that he doesn't care before it can fall. bad luck finds him anyway. it always has done. he's about to leave it there, let shockjock make up his own mind on a decision that should be his. at least until he keeps talking. and juke feels himself freeze. just mush in me, all week. you heard it yourself. “ it's you? ” is that what he's meant to take from the words? or was he already supposed to know it? juke does his best to think back over the last few days, smile unable to help turning back to his lips. the superhero and radio dj. no wonder there's no one else like him.
sorry for being so absent on the dash, work and study have both risen up to demand so much writing from me that i forgot how to do the fun tumblr writing also but i'm going to try and make a dent in drafts today
"well," voice is gentle, "i certainly don't want you to panic." a soft, relieved smile graces his lips - - one that mirrors finn's. reece knows he's at the core of finn's insecurities - - that he's the one who ( unknowingly ) drove finn to self-doubt, to thinking he wasn't the most important person in the world in reece's eyes. and he's carried the weight of that guilt with him for years. took every blow, every sack on the field and relished the pain because it was what he deserved for wanting to hide his sexuality and ( in turn ), hide finn. "yeah, i guess we never…" bites his lip, not finishing the thought aloud : never went out as a couple, never acknowledged one another in a crowd, never interacted via social media. if only reece could turn back time. eyes linger on finn, noticing how he's somehow gotten even more beautiful since the last time their eyes had met. "you are?" the question comes out a little too eager, and very surprised. when his injury is brought up, reece's heart splinters into two once more. he still hasn't recovered emotionally or physically. but, finn doesn't need to know that - - he refuses to burden finn with any of his own issues. "no…it's okay, finn," takes a tentative step closer to the brunette, "i…i'm just glad we're reunited." in whatever way that may be ( finn has no doubt moved on and probably has a perfect partner who treats him beautifully and reece wishes that it were him ). "i'm…getting there. slowly, but surely." fidgets with his sleeves, eyes dropping to finn's lips every few seconds. "how are you?" panic washes over his features when he realizes he's trapped finn into a conversation he might not want to be in, "uhm…am i keeping you from someone? a date…or something?" and, god, he hopes he says no.
he'd forgotten how easy it was to be around reece, how it prompted a faint smile that never quite left his lips in the other male's presence. sure, they had been a secret, but finn's never doubted theirs was the most real relationship he's had. it's clear even this many years on, the sudden sense that the town is finally home again when the other male is back in it. though he does his best to push the feeling quickly down. “ of course i am. ” finn confirms, expression softening impossibly further at the surprise in reece's tone. “ you're the only person who ever laughed at my jokes, my ego barely made it a day without you. ” it's easier to keep it light, not let the weight of their history burden what is a nice moment to see him again, one a part of him had always assumed he would never get. grown up reece. of course the other male is handsome, finn's followed his career distantly enough to know that, it's how familiar he still is that's far more of a surprise. “ i, uh — i finally graduated, felt like ninety years of medical school but if you need anyone to check you over... well, you should still ask your probably very expensive doctors, but if you ever need a second opinion, i'm here. ” the heat burning under his skin is instant, tone falling somewhere between joking and an entirely sincere reason for reece to pop over any time he needs. as if he would need to. or want to. “ god, no, no. ” he shakes his head quickly at the question, fingers pushing back through messy hair. “ there's no someone, no dates — i work six days a week, and half the time it's night shifts, no one sane would put up with me. ” sure, part of the reason he started working so much might have been because there was no one to return home to, but he's not quite sure where that cycle started, or how to end it. “ what about you? drag some poor partner back here with you? ”
INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE | THE VAMPIRE LESTAT — 3.06 “Montreal”
" giving me the script sooner might've yielded you better results, marc, " they offer him this much, even if they don't bother looking up still from where their nose has been buried in lined notepaper and scribbled lead. it's the time of night that dylan has dedicated to reviewing their notes, ghost ones right now, in fact — and marcus has been talking about someone they hatehatehatehate, whining about the most boring iteration of ghosting there is, so... no, no, they're not very interested, nor supportive. the binder closes abruptly in their lap, situated between criss crossed legs, and dylan straightens their spine, tilts their head, half-heartedly smiles. " i didn't like them, " she shrugs, eyebrows lifted for just a second, nonchalant. " but i like you alright, sometimes. " more than a little, but that's neither here nor there; and it isn't something dylan presently acknowledges — probably won't ever be. " shake it offfff. you'll be alright. they were an uggo anyway. "
“ but the script is so easy — you just have to support me unconditionally and validate every idea i ever have regardless of it you think it's the worst thing you've ever heard. ” he jokes, the phone held loosely in his hands momentarily forgotten as blue eyes study the way dylan looks through their notes. it's a brief distraction as he wonders what they'll come up with next, some crazy lead to follow or theory to test that marcus knows he won't say no to. he never does. “ well, yeah... but you never had a reason not to like her. ” the observation falls with a sigh, thoughts too quickly shifting back to the answered messages waiting for him on the phone. “ and that doesn't really help when we both know she was way out of my league. ” but he can shake it off, device quickly placed face down at his side as full attention returns to rest on dylan. “ just distract me. ” he sighs. “ tell me what horrifying thing you're going to suggest we do next. ”
