[mortalmuse]

cooperisms·:

finding ant was the priority, so much so, that it wasn’t until cooper walked through the lyceum’s doors that he realized he didn’t really know what he thought about everything–much less what he came here to say. 

those in the lobby of the gallery looked at him expectantly and he could only offer an awkward smile in return, turning his back to them to tell himself to chill the fuck out. he took a deep breath, muttering half-thoughts to himself in an attempt to organize his frantic mind. 

did he believe ant was immortal? maybe. he wasn’t sure. did he believe ant loved him? yeah. he went with his gut on that one. did he love ant back? of course he did.

cooper decided that had to be enough, bolstering his courage and ushering into the back rooms to find anthony exactly how he’d pictured–making a rut in the floor with his anxious pacing.

“ant,” he called, only to be met with the heart-wrenching sight of nervous desperation on the other man’s face. cooper lost what little resolve he’d been holding onto all this time, now desperate himself to reassure ant that his confession had not caused him to lose anything. cooper wasn’t scared or angry ( confused, sure. very, very confused ), but mostly just in awe of anthony and the fact that he’d chosen to share these secrets with cooper over anyone else.

cooper was quick to close the distance between them, one hand wrapping around anthony’s neck to pull him down to cooper’s level and the other snaking up into his hair. the kiss was excited and messy and desperate, cooper hoping the grinding of their lips and closeness of their bodies would assure ant that everything was going to be okay for them. eventually cooper pulled a few inches away to allow them both to breathe though his hands stayed tightly holding onto ant. 

“i read your letter. read that you wanted me to kiss you… so.” the corner of his mouth turned upwards into a grin, unable to overlook the fact that anthony funke had chosen him. “i hope that lived up to the fantasy. but if not we can try again.” 

Cooper, like a mirage in the desert, so wanted but impossible-- Ant's breath catches, stoppering his voice in the bottleneck of his throat. Footsteps echo a thousand miles away, and suddenly Cooper is close enough to touch. Fingers twitch and flex by Ant's side, desperate, but before he can even make the bad decisions brewing in his mind, they are being made for him.

There is so much, too much stimuli to catalogue. Ant's brain cannot conceive the grip of fingers in his hair or the mouth on his, thoughts stalling on Cooper's name again and again. He is being consumed? He is consuming? Something is happening, merging, until it isn't-- They separate, not as far as before but enough that Ant's mind comes down from its spiral.

Anxiety cannot reach him as he floats softly back to the ground, although some small parts of him whisper that Cooper has only acknowledged the easiest parts of his letter, the parts that tried to ease him into the enormity of the weight on Ant's chest. That part of him is a stupid fucking idiot, Ant decides. His hands, on Cooper's chest, curling into his t-shirt, are much smarter.

"It was perfect," Ant says, because he's determined not to lie again, even as a joke. He's finally free of that stone low in his gut, and he's not inviting it back. "But I have other fantasies we can start on, instead."

Tears prickle at the corners of Ant's eyes, and he blinks them away, stubborn. The relief of Cooper's smile is almost too much for him. He presses his thumb into the dimple of it, to feel the reality of the divot. "I can't believe you're here," he admits, tracing his thumb up the flat plane of Cooper's face. "I thought-- Too much, probably."

[mortalmuse]

ryder-ashtonf·:

He didn’t like this feeling of pity and grief he could feel. It felt strange and wrong, he wasn’t allowed to mourn, he was only made to forget. He shouldn’t have even brought it up in the first place because now there’s a vulnerability, a weak point to himself. Ashton shook his head as he shook off the feelings, far, far away, building back up that wall, “no it’s.. okay.” It’s not okay, somehow the far side voice wanted to scream. “They just- deserved better,” they deserved a better son, his voice was starting to strain to keep from cracking. More than glad to move away from the topic, feeling like a punishment was on his way for dredging the memories back up. “I don’t remember much of it either.. But you were a big thing in the army.”

[mortalmuse]

zoemarshallxrp·:

The quickness of his reply made her instinctively smile, taking it as support. She was a moth to a flame when it came to the tiniest chance of reinforcement, even if it has come as a simple one-word answer. The question, though, gave her pause, hand touching her chin as she took the moment in thought. “I mean.. I guess money is always a big motivator, right? Prices really skyrocket when someone dies. It’s sad, but I have to say it’s true.” Her smile turned a bit downward at the ends, a reality that was unfortunate but existed nonetheless. “…Do you think the immortality idea is… better?” she asked, voice rife with uncertainty.

"Plus the insurance payout," Ant agreed. That would be a more compelling narrative, wouldn't it? Someone pretending to be a muse would be awfully good fun, from Ant's point of view. It would be a tough sell, of course; a muse's touch in art was a tangible thing. However, Ant was pretty sure that their world, so obsessed with muses and their power, would fall like dominos if you could convince the first person.

No one wanted to be the one to point out the Emperor was naked, after all.

"I don't know about better. It'll certainly be a harder sell. Getting someone to believe something they can't see will never be easy. ... However it's definitely the most interesting choice, don't you think?"

[mortalmuse]

julianxxsantiago·:

His body twisted, just enough to have his arm raised, gesturing to the red velvet rope that Julian had crossed that was closed to the public, as if that was bolstering his argument. “Do you see this? It is private,” he told him before slipping underneath it, letting it swing back down in place behind him as he joined Ant on the other side. The expression on his face showcased how little he cared, even against the smugness that was splashed on the muse.

Smugness soon was replaced, and it was noticed by sharper eyes. It had never been difficult to guess the nature of their relationship. You could feel it radiating off of them whenever they were in the same room. “Then? Let him die,” he suggested with a shrug back as he continued to walk on, letting Ant join him or not, giving him the easy out if he wanted to take it. “Why him? Why did you choose him? He is a fucking cabrón.” It was the one idea that confused him, but never really mattered enough to ask, never having much of an opportunity or impetus to ask until now. A second passed, another look given, hard to read. “You have a date?”

"Because he makes good art and that's what muses are for." Things were a little more complicated than that, of course. Weren't they always? Ant had been alone and grieving, and then there was Vic. He had wanted Ant, and while it hadn't been for his personality or his talent or even his body, Ant had needed so badly to be wanted. Of course, Ant had balked at bonding, but Vic had convinced him otherwise-- Ant had been brought back for a purpose, after all. If he wasn't bonded, wasn't performing his duties as a muse, what was the point of him being alive at all? "Better an asshole than someone who's going to drain me and sell the blood for paint money. The Krauses are too classy to do something as crass as all that."

For all that he was a hopeless romantic, Ant found it hard to think of being a muse as romantic. Sure, there had been a time in his life where he dreamed of finding the perfect artist, one who would love him completely, and their love would inspire something that lasted forever. His mother's death had cured him of that fantasy. Ant was sure he never wanted to watch someone he loved die ever again. Besides, without his mother's protective bond, the realities of the dangers that surrounded muses every day came to light. It had been time to either wise up or pay the price.

He would never allow Tammy or Claudia to choose a bond simply to protect themselves, but Ant had been alone.

At the mention of Cooper, however, that silly infatuated smile broke through the cold memories. "I do! Don't look so surprised, Julie, I'll have you know that I'm a catch. His name is Cooper. Morri introduced us; He runs a shop in the Kitchen. I think you'd like him, honestly. Gives almost as little of a fuck about all this as you do."

[mortalmuse]

tammy-vanderbilt·:

“Good job I’m already attractive enough to make up for it, then.” It had been years, and the nicknames never got old, neither did the rush of happiness they gave him. Tammy couldn’t remember his father using any nicknames, even before – strange, then, that the nicknames felt more like home than anything else he’d ever known. 

“I don’t know, I mean – I’d say it’s still kind of hot, but that’s weird–” Perhaps what was weirder was that some of Tammy’s clients were (at least physically) far older than Ant, but that was another existential crisis-inducing thought it was best to stay away from. “Cooper grew up in the 70s, didn’t he? Or the 80s? He probably still likes it, then. He probably likes you just as much as you’re melting over him.” 

“You look like the guy from Grease. What’s-his-face–” Tammy picked up the denim jacket, fabric worn soft and supple through years of wear. Years – sometimes it scared him, the realisation knocking the breath out of him. Ant had already seen decades come and go, already worn many different faces, loved and lost many different people. What if one day Tammy was just another drop in the ocean, loved and lost and forgotten?

He shoved that thought away; Ant was right about the smell, another thing that accumulated over the years. Still, Tammy slipped it on, far too big for his scrawny frame but somehow managing to feel like an embrace. Rolling off the bed, he joined Ant in front of the mirror, pulling his hair back so it looked shorter. Trying to strike some kind of rockstar pose that just highlighted how much the jacket drowned him. “Hey, look, I’m you! You, except younger and ginger, I guess.” And hotter, but again, rude and weird.

"Please don't make me think about how Cooper's closer to your age than mine or I'll never be able to look him in the eyes again." Ant knew that there was no real reason to feel guilty for wanting Cooper-- He was a fully grown man, after all, grey hairs and all. Besides, after thirty five everything became a blur, anyway. Still, when people talked numbers, ages and dates, it still sent a bolt of wrong into Ant's stomach. He wondered if that got easier or harder the longer you lived, and if he even wanted to find out. "I feel like the FBI should be knocking down my door for dating someone born literally on my forty-fifth birthday."

That had been a terrible realization. The best and worth birthday present he'd ever been given.

"Travolta? Conoway?" The movie had come out a few years after Ant's death, a nostalgic snapshot of his own twenties. He'd liked it, although not as much as he'd liked Cry Baby in the 90s, but he hadn't watched it in a while. Ant struck a pose mirroring Tammy's, pointing at him through their reflections. "Dibs on Kenickie. He was hot as fuck."

"So much younger," Ant said, smiling at the way his sleeves slipped over Tammy's small wrists. It made Tammy look so much younger, like Ant actually had the chance to raise Tammy with all the love and care he deserved. "Honestly when I was your age I was mostly hanging out with wannabe Beats. A lot of black, baggy sweaters and not combing our hair. You would have hated it."

[mortalmuse]

opheliajmes·:

“oh no—“ it sounded so unlike her that she couldn’t even bring herself to say it. that he assumed she was young enough to still want to go out. she couldn’t even imagine the energy that it would take to achieve whatever having fun was considered nowadays. she was only tired. “i’d rather just go home.” which was not an admission of defeat but rather a fact of her life. she preferred the solitary existence, this was only a confirmation of that. everything in control in her own domain. “i’m not as young as i’d like to think.”

God, if Ant didn't know what that felt like. Although he was obstensibly the same age as he was when he died, he didn't feel like that man anymore-- Sure, he didn't feel eighty, either, but the forty-one year old who had died that day still felt unspeakably young to Ant now. In fact, Ant could hardly conceive the things he had done before his mother had died. Was that part of the bond? Was the general malaise in his bones because he had a piece of shit artist and a broken bond before that? Was this the beginning of the long waste?

Ant realized he'd let the silence go on for too long before snapping back to Ophelia with a guilty smile. "Sorry," he said, sheepishly. "Something you said triggered my melodrama gland. I stare off into the middle distance like fifteen times a day." He sighed. "Guess that means I'm getting old, too. Although, you know, my mom used to tell me that you're only as old as you feel. Maybe getting out there could be good for the both of us." Ant made a face. "Doubt it, though."

[mortalmuse]

claudiamrshall‌:

“who said anything about bonded.” the glance she shot was made of ice, the step into fathering that was so foreign to her she had no other reaction. she knew that they were friends, that it was the kind of concern it was right to have, but she still hated the sound of it. “it’s just a showing!” somehow she managed to pitch immediately as an annoyed young girl, space invaded. she knew she shouldn’t, that there was probably some logical way to argue herself out of the conversation. but he knew her too well—already saw right through it.

“i just want something new in the space. you’re making it weird.” she looked back at the pedestal, unable to maintain whatever gaze ant was shooting at her. she had plenty of shows for up and coming artists that she couldn’t possible consider as being her artist. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. he’s got a vision at least. i just think i—we could help him out here.”

Ant raised his hands, spread wide and flat in placation. "Hey, I didn't say anything specific, just that he'd be a hell of a man to be bonded to." Although, really, he wasn't buying any of the bullshit Claudia was trying to sell him. Ant saw right through her protestations, but he was also pretty sure that Claudia herself half-believed her own lies, and that kind of thing needed to be handled with care.

"'Help him out'?" Ant repeated, incredulous. "Is that what we do now?" The most frustrating part of this was that she wasn't even trying to be subtle about her intentions. Did she think Ant was blind? "I thought the whole point was to try and make money. Not that Jules' work won't sell-- It absolutely will. But helping...."

Even more ridiclous was the idea of Julian Santiago allowing himself to be helped. "Does he know that's why you want to feature him? Because I would love to be there when you tell him; I really would."

[mortalmuse]

ryder-ashtonf‌:

“I..” he shouldn’t be saying it, he shouldn’t even think about it. Forget about everything you left behind. They kept telling him, you’re not who you were anymore, all of that died the moment you woke back up. But suddenly there’s the invitation, to simply feel again, so openly and daringly. “I’m sorry.. about your mom,” but that sounded nice, to be bonded to your mother, to watch them grow old, to take care of them, to make sure they lived out their lives with no regrets. “They didn’t- leave me behind.. I did,” stuck in a cell chained to the walls, watching the news talk about his death so honourably, covering up the pathetic truth. “She had to see her son’s funeral.” Which is fucked up in itself but makes it worse doing it over an empty casket, given a military funeral. He wanted nothing more than to have taken care of her into her old age. 

Ashton managed a flicker of a smile at the memories being forcefully dragged back to the surface, “we used to dance to it in the kitchen.. waiting for dad to come back,” but it all snapped away being brought back to the present, trying to build up the walls again, “Ashton, we met like maybe once, in the 50s.”

"Oh." The little sigh of understanding left Ant's mouth without his permission. Every paternal instinct in Ant was screaming at him to make a move, begging to reach out and pull Ash into his arms, to give him a safe place to work through his grief. It was a familiar feeling, and Ant usually didn't fight so hard against it, but he could tell that intimacy would scare Ash away-- Especially with a stranger.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to say goodbye," Ant said, softly. "I can't imagine how that must have felt. But sometimes ignorance can be easier than the alternative. You know how this world can be."

"Good to meet you again, Ash." Ant made himself grin, that same wide and welcoming smile he perfected all those years ago. "Sorry I don't remember it, but the times before are kinda fuzzy now. The 50s... Damn, I must have just been getting started."

[mortalmuse]

julianxxsantiago·:

Anthony Funke. He didn’t know him. He knew his face, his voice, some of his works, and most importantly knew he was the muse for Victor Kraus–New York’s most prominent shit. But he didn’t know him in the ways that mattered, making them one step above acquaintances. It wasn’t as if Julian had particularly tried to change those ways in the past, and the way he rolled his eyes showed he didn’t have much interest in changing it either.

“Your nose?” he gave a nod towards it. “Get it out of my shit.”

Just because Ant was better than Victor did not mean he had to feed into his pension for diving head-first into the rumor mill, cutting it at the knees, an action that was executed with not as much viciousness as it claimed. If he was pissed at Ant, he would have walked away, instead he went on like it was just a part of a regular conversation.

“Where is your gilipollas?”

While most people around Julian tended to back off when the man turned his ire against them, Ant only laughed. It was a little funny, how scared they were of this little man. He was so angry and ultimately impotent. There was nothing Julian could do to hurt Ant, and Ant wasn't even sure that Julian would actually want to. It was just endearing, in the end, bordering on adorable. "Have you tried not yelling about your shit in public?" Ant chirped with a smug smile.

When Julian brought up Vic, though, the smile became a bitter twist of his lips, grotesque on his face. "How would I know? Am I my artist's keeper? He would rather die than be seen with me in polite society; One doesn't fraternize with the help." Ant snorted. "Nah, I'm with someone else tonight. He's never been to one of these things and I wanted to show him how much he's not missing."

[mortalmuse]

zoemarshallxrp·:

“Maybe!” She shrugged genuinely, honestly unsure of which direction was more favorable. “I mean, that’s gotta be way more convincing than like… what? Immortality or something? Pft! As if, you know?” Something in her facial expression showed she didn’t fully believe in her own words, the work of fiction always tugging at her heart. “I’m just for a good story, really! You don’t think I’m nuts, right?”

"No," Ant said, quickly. While there was a lot to be said for keeping the secret of muses safe, the last thing he ever wanted to do was start gaslighting people into doubting their own senses. In fact, Ant was surprised no one else had seen Poldarke and immediately begged him to be the man himself. Then again, humans generally only saw what they wanted to-- So did this woman see the truth because she wanted it, or because she wanted the story?

"I don't know about him faking his death, though. What would he gain from it?"

[mortalmuse]

cooperisms·:

he nodded solemnly as ant pointed out the lack of priceless jewelry he owned, a few thoughtful ‘mhm’s falling from cooper’s lips as he rubbed the dark stubble on his jaw. “that is quite a predicament.” he suddenly moved his hand away from his jaw, instead placing it over his chest to inform, “fortunately, i do have a very classy pair of socks that i would love to see you in. the bad news is that they don’t really match anything, so, you will have to be nude.” he tried to say the last of it deadpan, and for a moment succeeded, though cooper’s chest was quick to rumble with laughter–unable to even take himself seriously. 

cooper didn’t usually think twice about jumping into bed with a guy. 

but he found himself second-guessing all his old tricks when it came to ant. it was stupid, really stupid, and cooper knew he was overthinking all of this. 

it would’ve been so easy to just reach out, do what he’s wanted to for so long. meet ant’s lips with his own and actually do something about this awkward teenage hornyness he feels when they’re together–’cause that’s exactly what it is, right? cooper feels like a god damn kid, head over heels for some guy who’s probably only here until something better comes along.

and it will. 

because, let’s face it, cooper had issues.

so what was the point of this? of pretending he could be better? pinning for ant like some stupid fucking high schooler hoping that he takes pity on him and likes him back. god, it could drive him crazy!

though he was quick to tell these thoughts to fuck off, cooper was sure that for a moment they got to him. he just hoped that ant hadn’t caught that flicker of sadness in his eyes, the sudden vulnerability that had almost been tangible. 

“i don’t think anyone ever does,” he joked, though cooper found he didn’t like the somberness of the comment. “should we get a taxi or are you down for the walk?” the night seemed nice enough and it wouldn’t be too far. 

made some air would clear his mind.

Lust hit like a spear through Ant's stomach, the white-hot shock of it spreading like blood in water until it curled scorching in his heart. There should be nothing sexy in a joke about socks, but the thought of being laid bare for Cooper's gaze was too heady to think of anything else. Still, he made himself laugh along with Cooper, a high and nervous thing made to cover up how badly Ant wanted to offer to make it true.

It would be such a bad fucking idea. Even if Ant were in a position where he could have a relationship (and he really wasn't), it would be better to take things slow. Probably. That didn't make him want it any less.

"Well, I guess it's nice to know you don't have a foot fetish," Ant said, trying to keep things light, "Which is great, because I've been told I have the feet of a caveman." And you know what they say about big feet.

Tentatively, Ant reached out and intertwined their fingers back together. "Take me on a walk?" he asked, trying not to blush like a school kid. "The weather is too good to pass up and I--" He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was okay to say. "I want to keep you to myself for a little longer. Let me be selfish."

[mortalmuse]

birdiedrke·:

“oh no! immortality such a curse!” so many people pretending they had problems when they all got to stand in this gallery and pretend like they were going to buy the overpriced pictures on the wall. things could always be worse—she could still be in las vegas. “i’ll believe it when i see it.” and that was the extent of her interest on the topic.

“he stole a muse that’s dramatic. what’d he do, romance her?” it seemed the most obvious solution. her own con artist abilities were still in development, a childhood of antagonism slowly being overruled by the deft skill of persuasion. it was slow going, but she could already see how some people made their way in new york with it. maybe even a singer who just wanted a little bit more greatness. “i thought it was supposed to be bigger than that.”

Despite all the aggression and cynicism in Birdie's eyes, sometimes she said things that made Ant remember just how young she was-- As if something could ever be bigger than the promise of love. Not love itself, no, but the allure of it. Everyone wanted to be loved, probably even Birdie, whether she knew it or not. It just took the right person offering it, and with a little luck and a lie or two, any artist could become that person. Muses, long-lived and lonely, were a vulnerable target. Ant certainly had been.

"It is on some levels," Ant said, shrugging. "If you believe some of the theories about the bond, it's divine. But the problem is that muses hold the power, and most of us are laughably human. Humans, for better or worse, aren't very good at seeing the bigger picture. So, yeah, he romanced her. Promised to love her beyond what she could give him. I have no idea if he broke that promise or she just... found a better offer. I was dead by then; They stopped inviting me to the good parties."

[mortalmuse]

🔫 for the lolz

🔫 take a bullet for my muse

THEY’RE BOTH IMMORTAL.

[mortalmuse]

🎀 Zoe

🎀 give my muse a gift

Ant doesn't buy Zoe anything, not really. Instead, he takes her to Chicago, and buys them both tickets to the American Writers Museum. They take the tour together, Ant adding a few things he's learned about the newer journalists in a whisper.

Okay, so maybe he buys her an Emily Dickinson shirt, too, but she'd looked so excited!

[mortalmuse]

🛑 Julian

🛑 stop my muse from doing something reckless

"Hey. Hey!" Ant grabbed Julian's elbow tight; He hoped it bruised, left a small reminder not to be such an idiot tomorrow. "You have a death wish? Find it on your own time, Julie. I'm not about to go home and tell the kid I sat around watched her artist buy the farm. Get back in the fucking car."

[mortalmuse]

@cooperisms

He had ruined everything, Ant was sure of it.

Harried footsteps echoed through the empty gallery as Ant paced, rhythm off-tempo as they sped and slowed with his thoughts. Ant pushed a hand through his hair, leaving his bangs standing on end. He never should have left that letter. He never should have told Cooper. He never should have told him about the songs.

Ant wanted too much, all the time. He was greedy, hungry for attention and love, and Cooper had looked at him once and that was all it had taken. They could have had something beautiful, probably. A real friendship. Ant didn't have many of those, in his 80-something years. He could have had that with Cooper, until things got too suspicious. Ant could have swallowed his yearning, could have pretended Cooper didn't make him remember what music was for, and they could have been happy together for a time.

But he had torn it apart instead, like the animal he held inside of his skin, desperate for some leftover scrap of love that couldn't possibly be there.

Don't give up, a gentler voice in Ant's head said, You said you'd wait for him, and it's only been a few hours. Cooper is a good man. Even if he breaks your heart, he'll at least do it to your face. You said you'd wait. And he will. He will.

Ant continued pacing, chewing at his bottom lip, and tried not to cry.

[mortalmuse]

opheliajmes·:

“i, it’s okay.” she didn’t know where she would even start if she did want to burden him. so many of her problems were trivial, how she’d only just wanted a family and it was gone. every year after that was its own special agony. “i’m just not used to these galas.” she hadn’t been to a party in over a year, she’d forgotten how people just kept going. the constant talking, probing; there was no way of knowing everyone, and so her mind had instead free-falled. “i didn’t remember them being so—it felt like everyone was watching.”

The eyes were the worst part, whether they were there for you or not. Ant couldn't blame Ophelia for bailing, not with an audience like that behind her. It wasn't so bad in the smaller showings. Lots of independent artists showed up to mingle and check out the competition,and although that brought its own kind of judgment, it wasn't often as cloying as this. The people in there were too rich for their own good and too high on their own superiority to see the cliff in front of them. Ant had gotten used to that a lifetime ago, however-- Sure, he'd been of a time before the music video, but that didn't mean he didn't put up with his fair share of prying gazes.

"Do me a favor, kid. Don't get used to 'em. You should leave boring shit like this to us old guys you have nothing better to do," Ant said with a grin. "You? You're young and beautiful. You should be out there somehwere," he continued, waving at the city around them, "having fun and telling people like that to kiss your ass if they don't like what they see."