#likecavities

[skippingframes]

CLOSED for @likecavities

“do you think ducks KNOW they’re weird?” rory asked suddenly, sprawled across the couch with his shoes kicked off somewhere nearby. “because if i looked like that and made those noises, i’d probably have a complex.” he glanced over, completely serious for about half a second before grinning. “also, i think i could win in a fight against one. not a swan, though. i know my LIMITS.”

[loudbarks]

CLOSED for @likecavities

the whiskey burned warm on the way down, though frankie BARELY tasted it anymore. her fingers stayed curled around the glass while neon bled red and blue across the polished bar top, catching in the loose waves of her bright red hair every time she shifted beneath the low light. somewhere under the music and chatter, they found themself humming quietly into the rim of the glass — an old tune without words, soft enough that nobody else would notice it unless they were LISTENING for the songstress specifically. maybe that was the point. the bar was crowded in the way they always were this late; bodies packed too close together, laughter too loud,and people trying to drink themselves into feeling less ALONE for a couple hours. frankie watched them over the edge of her whiskey with heavy-lidded eyes, thinking how easy humans made it look sometimes — wanting things, touching each other, leaving pieces of themselves BEHIND without even realizing it. meanwhile they sat there feeling older than the room itself, humming softly to themself like a ghost trying to remember what being ALIVE felt like.

[wantmykisses]

closed starter for reagan ( @likecavities ) ──── ⋆˚.⭒˚.

"It's not my fault I dance well enough to get tips," the blonde argued on her side. She wasn't always stiffened by routine and rigidity. The twenty was folded and tucked safely into the breast of her corset top. "If ballet doesn't work out, it looks like I could have a future as a gogo girl." Her smile was ignited by alcohol and the high of her earnings. "You could DJ, and I could dance."

[redemptioninterlude]

SUBJECT: brainworm muse starter ! CONCERNING: reagan reeves

hungover brunch meetups really work well when you're waking up in the SAME PLACE, don't they? alice's head popping up from the couch, last night's makeup still smeared down half her face as she grinned at the other woman who eventually emerged from her room. reagan looked as wrecked as she did.

"hungry?" well, DUH. always.

it's not like they have all the money in the world, but they have old haunts that serve up a pretty fucking MEAN BREAKFAST for like, $7.99. eggs, bacon, potatoes, a pancake, toast. it's cheap, it's greasy, it's perfect, oh!

so long as they skip on alcohol ( what the fuck do you mean a mimosa is the same price as breakfast now? ) they're good, alice there with her head in her hands, her gaze left dull as she spooned a mouth full of RUNNY EGG into her mouth. "i think my head is going to crack like this egg and spill onto the table..."

★— ATTN: @likecavities

[skippingframes]

@likecavities said: send [car] our muses have sex in a parked car (let rory and noah fuck in the BRONCO)

the windows had long since fogged over, the cab of the bronco holding onto their breath and heat until it felt close, almost too close, but neither of them moved to crack a window. rory didn't notice it at first — only the way noah's mouth kept finding his, the way it kept pulling him back in — but eventually it settled in, thick in his lungs, mixing with the adrenaline still humming under his skin. his hand had braced somewhere along the center console at the start, trying to keep things casual, but now it had slipped, fingers curling into the fabric of noah's shirt instead, tugging him closer without thinking. he's kissing him harder than he means to (there's no finesse to it, just want) and it hits him, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he's not even pretending this is a mistake anymore. there's a moment where he pulls back, just enough to breathe, but his forehead stays pressed to noah's, his chest rising and falling a little too fast. he lets out a quiet, disbelieving huff — half a laugh, half something else — and his thumb drags along the side of noah's neck, slower this time, like he's testing the reality of it. "this is—" he starts, but the sentence dies halfway out, because what the hell is he even supposed to call this? he doesn't finish it. or even try. instead, his gaze flicks down to noah's mouth again, like it's pulling him in on its own, and yeah, he's gone. already gone. his hand tightens in noah's shirt, and he leans back in before he can overthink it, mouth finding his again, deeper this time, less hesitant. the shift is subtle but it's there, with something heavier settling into the space between them and that makes his pulse kick harder against his throat. his free hand slides, slower now, more deliberate, finding noah's side, then his waist, like he's mapping him out without even realizing it. there's a quiet sound caught somewhere in rory's throat when noah leans into it, when he gives back just as much, and it sends a sharp rush through him that he can't quite shake. he breaks the kiss again, but not far — just enough to press his mouth against the corner of noah's, his breath uneven, a little reckless and too honest. "you're—" another failed start, another breath, and then a crooked grin, like he's trying to soften the edge of it. "you're trouble." but he doesn't pull away. doesn't even try.

[skippingframes]

closed starter for @likecavities !

by the time rory had made it back to the locker room, the place had gone quiet in that hollow way it sometimes did after a rough game. most of the team had already filtered out toward the showers or the bus, leaving the benches half-empty and the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. his gear was scattered in a careless trail from the doorway to the medical table, like he'd peeled it off piece by piece just to get it off his body. now, he sat shirtless at the edge of the table while the team physician pressed gauze against the split in his eyebrow, blood still stubbornly seeping through the white fabric. it'd run down the side of his face earlier, sticky and warm along his temple; even now he could feel where it had dried in thin lines across his skin. "hold still," the doctor said gently. rory tried, but the moment careful fingers moved to test the bruising spreading across his ribs, his breath snagged and a slew of curses left his lips. the hit along the boards had come out of nowhere — helmet cracking hard against the glass, the air punched clean out of his lungs before he could even brace for it. he'd stayed on his skates, but collapsed after the final period was over. now, without the roar of the crowd or the rush of adrenaline to drown it out, every breath felt shallow and sharp, a quiet reminder of the way his body had folded on impact. "yeah," he muttered after a second, his voice rougher than usual. "that's… fuckin' great." the locker room door creaked open behind him. rory turned automatically, already knowing who it would be before he even saw noah stepping inside. there was something about how Noah moved that rory could pick out anywhere. for a split second he considered pretending he hadn't noticed. instead, he straightened instinctively on the table, shoulders pulling back like that alone could make the situation look less bad than it was. the movement tugged hard through his ribs, and he couldn't quite stop the small hitch in his breathing. still, he forced a crooked grin when noah got close enough to see him clearly, with the blood, gauze, bruising and all. "relax," rory said quickly, lifting one hand in a dismissive wave even as the doctor held the gauze tighter against his brow. "i'm fine." the lie came out automatically, the way it always did, but the next breath betrayed him anyway, with his mouth tightening and eyes squeezing shut for half a second before he could recover. he exhaled slowly through his nose, gaze dropping to the floor. "just… caught the boards wrong," he added more quietly, as if that somehow made it easier to swallow.

[skippingframes]

i am so sorry bambi starter @likecavities

the alcohol hadn't blurred anything the way he'd hoped it would; it'd only stripped him down to the parts he usually kept buried. every thought felt louder, closer to the surface, pressing at the back of their teeth until they couldn't hold it in anymore. he'd spent so long pretending he was fine with whatever this was — whatever teddy would give him, whenever he felt like it — that even standing here now felt like a betrayal of that careful balance. but the question had been building for weeks, maybe longer, and it finally broke loose. "can you just tell me what it is?" jude asked, their voice uneven despite how hard they tried to keep it level. "what's wrong with me that you can want me like THIS, but not enough to actually want ME?" he hated how it sounded the second it left him. desperate, small, everything they swore they'd never let themself be for anyone again. still, he couldn't stop; not when this had been sitting in his chest for so long it felt fused to his ribs. their fingers curled tighter in their pockets, nails digging into their palms like they could anchor themself there. "i keep trying to figure it out," he admitted, quieter now, like saying it softer might make it less humiliating. "if it's something i did, or… i don't know. something i'm missing. like there's some version of me that would make you stay, and i just haven't figured out how to be that person yet." the worst part was how much they'd already bent without realizing it. how easily he'd made space for teddy in ways he didn't offer to anyone else; how natural it'd felt to wait, to accept less, to tell himself it was enough just to be chosen sometimes. looking at him now, it hit all at once: how uneven it had always been, how they'd known that and stayed anyway. jude let out a breath that shook on the way out, a hollow, humorless sound slipping through it. "i'm not asking for a lot," he said, though even he wasn't sure that was true. "i just… don't understand why i'm good enough when it's easy, but not when it actually MEANS something.” they forced themself to meet teddy's eyes then, even though it felt like stepping into something that might cut him open. there was no room left to hide behind jokes or indifference; they didn't have it in them tonight. "i could deal with you not loving me," jude said, softer now, the words landing heavy between them. "i could get over that eventually," his throat tightened, but he pushed through it anyway. "but this.... this in-between where i ALMOST MATTER to you, that's what's fuckin' me up." a beat, then quieter, more honest than they'd ever meant to be: "so just tell me why i'm not the one you actually want."

[skippingframes]

CLOSED for @likecavities

“no, because you don’t get it — fall out boy is a chicago institution,” rory insisted, like this was a matter of civic pride and not just him running his mouth for the third straight minute while half-lacing his skates wrong. “like, yeah, the bean’s there, deep dish is there, the hawks are there, whatever, but patrick stump hit those notes and the whole city got emotionally WORSE in a way that made us stronger.” he paused, squinting down at the knot he’d absolutely butchered, then decided to ignore it. rory knew he sounded ridiculous. honestly, he usually did. but there was a comfort in ridiculousness, in filling the air before it could turn too honest, before anyone could notice the parts of him that didn’t know what to do with silence. “anyway, if you don’t know at least three songs off from under the cork tree, i’m legally allowed to question your character.”