#ft. milo

[astrvia]

‘ ¿vamos a otro vagón? prefiero estar lejos de la música. ’ / parpadea ante la petición, mientras mira hacia la puerta que da a las otras secciones. ' ¿te molesta o algo así?' personalmente, ya comenzaba a acostumbrarse al ruido luego de una semana oyendo a gente montarse fiestas arriba de su habitación. ' parece que hay un vagón donde dan comida y bebestibles, pensaba ir por algún snack. ¿quieres acompañarme? ' @mvvlos

[indorak]

Summer indulgence~!

[rhyves]

' mmh...' digiere explicación opuesta sin mucho interés, porque tan rápido como algo capta su atención, es fácil que igualmente la acabe perdiendo. su mente trabaja de una forma en que no puede terminar de enfocarse en un asunto antes de saltar a otro. ' así que se te da bien esto de ser estilista~' termina por concluir, en lo que se toca su propio cabello, frotando un mechón entre sus dedos. ' ¿qué color crees que se me vería bien después de este, entonces~? ' no que le importase abismalmente la sugerencia, pero quería agregar alguno más a su colección de opciones. aparente fijación que mantiene compañía con la autoridad del lugar consigue sacarle una risa de todos modos, quizás pareciéndole curioso. ' ¿estás segura que no eres la reencarnación de la vieja esa del diablo se viste a la moda? ¿como se llamaba? ¿amanda? ¿miranda?' imita incluso la escena más emblemática que había llegado a volverse meme en la cultura pop cibernautica, con la mirada despectiva. aunque desconoce si ella podría entender la referencia. ' ¿un baile? ¿para que pongan música de funeral como cuando nos recibieron?'

‘ he tenido ojo para la belleza y el buen gusto desde muy joven. ’ mismas palabras recitadas por su madre son ahora entonadas por falsa inocencia. ‘ me ocupé de las puntas abiertas de mi amiga ellie y de repente tuve una fila de chicas de tercer grado pidiéndome que les cortara el cabello. ’ por supuesto las madres de las niñas se mostraron poco agradecidas con ardua labor, razón que le tuvo un par de semanas ausente de sus clases. ‘ una cosa es dejarla pasar vergüenza y otra— ’ arremeter en contra de la moda. resignado resoplo termina por dar razón a contrario, no hay mucho que puedan hacer dadas circunstancias. ‘ somos dos. en el próximo juicio deberían al menos tener un poco de música. ’ propone, ‘ ¿para qué tener un salón de baile y no bailar? ’

[pycth]

Hot Boi Spring Back event on the Sky Side discord!

A bunch of us artists and writers were given the prompt of exploring the early stages of any pairing’s relationship(s), canon or not.

I chose Asher and Baaabe~ if you didn’t know already, my Baaabe and Ash have known each other since they were teenagers. The boy was hopelessly down bad despite Baaabe’s initial disinterest at the time..just be patient, king, you’ll finally get your chance in about 8-9 years 🙏

(Note that this was before Baaabe and Darlin became a thing for bit—that’s a story for another time)

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

Milo Ventimiglia as Jess Mariano in Gilmore Girls | 4.21 "Last Week Fights, This Week Tights" (8/?)

[kitheking]

aggro when milo tried to take him for walkies

[secndbest]

IT'S SOMEWHERE BETWEEN "y'know, paul mccartney once claimed that one in four men are gay" and "paul and john were probably in some toxic on and off thing" that reeve starts to tune milo out. he knows he should just interrupt, throw the wad of cash in his pocket at milo's face and snatch the little bag of goods they toss between their palms before he can really unpack what he must have done to deserve this. instead, reeve opts to wait it out, allows himself to get distracted by the interesting angles of milo's face. at some point in the night, he took a tab that now makes the slope of milo's jaw particularly thrilling to look at, so he follows it from their chin to their gonial angle, marveling at the sharpness of the bend there, before stopping at their ear where his eyes linger. it's distracting, the way the lights from the party make milo's jewelry sparkle like stars.

it goes quiet, and it takes reeve a moment to realize he's been caught. ❝ oh, uh, ❞ his own voice sounds odd, way too scratchy and nervous— insecure . he chalks it up to the drugs and clears his throat. ❝ no, i was just— did getting all that hurt, or ... ? ❞ he flicks his finger against his own earlobe, completely bare compared to the plethora of huggies and studs decorating milo's.

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 — reeve aziz 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — driveway

milo sort of feels like they're holding reeve hostage, but at the very least, it's funny. he's roped plenty of people into conversation mid deal, but this one was something of an accomplishment. they didn't get off to the best start, and though many people disliked milo, reeve's was a faster onset than they would have expected. so, they take this chance, smile dumbly at his drunken geniality, lean against their car with a cigarette and just yap. it's only after a while that they feel that burning sensation on the side of their face, eyes on them. a pang of insecurity manages to claw through the layers of intoxication, and a hand goes to absently fidget with the metal in their ear "uh, i have something on my face?"

@secndbest

[ollieinoue]

Sometime early in the week at some bathroom or other [ @milonavarroo ]

Ollie wandered towards one of the shared bathrooms, deciding to pick some out of the way one that he could probably take his time in as he got ready for bed. Only to see an all too familiar figure approaching the same door as him. He grinned at Milo. "Sorry," he said in a teasing tone, putting his hand on the door and pushing it open. "I got here first." His eyes scanned across Milo, taking in the night bag and assuming he was here to do the same thing as him. While also maybe looking -- appreciatively. The two of them might not be anything anymore but that didn't mean he couldn't look. "I mean we can share if you want. Have a contest to see who takes a longer time to get ready for bed." It could be a toss up. His hair took a while to sort out, but Milo was pretty vain…

[forever-eternal]

Scene from Chapter 26 of Atlas! I want to throw legos at Splinter :)

[charfletchh]

who: @milonavarroo

where: thanksgiving, the commons

a dervish of blonde hair and sticky fingers bolted through the commons, ignoring charlie's calls to - well, nothing actually, because she was too busy taking a mirror pic for instagram to notice one of the twins had sprinted away. in fairness to her, she had told her mother she had no interest in pretending to be a big sister. but claudia had wasted no time dumping tara in her arms and going who-knows-where. probably hunting for the next stepfather.

tara weaved through the crowd with the dexterity of a eighteen-wheeler until she abruptly collided with milo's leg. the ominous silence as she drew in that shaky breath was all too familiar with anyone who spent time around toddlers - it always preceded a cry, and one too loud to come from that tiny body exploded from her lungs as people turned to stare to see who was making that child cry.

[blvssomed]

silas  very  much  remembers  all  the  lamenting  at  the  start  of  the  winter  season  from  the  local  newscasters  that  the  city  had  been  missing  out  on  a  proper  snowfall  for  the  past  few  years.  he  understands  where  the  sentiment  stems  from,  the  desire  for  a  white  christmas  the  picturesque  fluffy  snow  falling  down  and  blanketing  the  ground.  silas,  on  the  other  hand,  knows  when  to  count  his  blessings  and  the  previous  lack  of  snow  was  indeed  a  blessing.  everyone  says  they  want  snow,  but  he’s  determined  that  they  only  truly  mean  when  it’s  mirroring  a  scene  in  a  movie.  they  very  quickly  forget  the  disgusting  slop  of  watery  mush  it  becomes  on  the  sidewalk  and  having  to  navigate  around  the  mess  like  a  goddamn  olympic  sport.  it’s  with  this  in  mind  that  silas  regards  the  current  snowstorm  with  silent,  yet  disdain.  such  disdain  becomes  all  the  more  prominent,  tugging  at  his  features  when  the  elevator  he’s  in  cuts  out  mid-trip  and  he  can  feel  a  migraine  building  in  the  back  of  his  head.  “i  suppose  it  depends  on  what  kind  of  pizza  you  have  there,”  silas  answers  after  a  moment's  pause,  blue  hues  checking  the  time  on  his  watch  before  flickering  over  to  his  companion.  he  leans  against  the  wall  with  crossed  arms  while  assessing  the  pizza  boxes.  he’s  never  heard  of  the  place  which  can  be  cause  for  concern.  “is  it  good  ??  i  don’t  waste  my  time  on  mediocre  pizza.”

♡ For: @bhqextras ♡ Location: An elevator somewhere in NY ♡ Time of day: Early evening

It had been snowing all day, and between the snow, the traffic, the disappointing Craigslist listing, and now the fact that his pants were damp from a slip in a patch of ice, he was certain this may have been the worst day off anyone could ever take. Getting into the elevator, he gave a small nod to the only other occupant before adjusting the pizza boxes in his hands and hitting the button for his friend’s floor. While the day had been nothing short of a disaster, he was not about to let it ruin his night. No, instead, he decided he would catch up with an old friend and eat some good pizza which was something he had really missed while living out in California because as hard as they tried, California pizza just didn’t compare.

He looked up as the numbers on the floors ticked by before the elevator came to a halt as the power went out. “Oh no.” His tone was not so much panicked as it was exasperated, because this was the last thing he needed today. Milo adjusted the boxes he held again so he could take out the small flashlight he kept in his bag for emergencies. Turning it on, he looked at the various buttons and signage in the elevator before spotting what he needed. With a sigh, he pressed the emergency call button only to find out after answering numerous questions that there were power outages all over the city and it would be a while before anyone could get to them. Sighing again, he turned to look at his companion. “You hungry?” If he was going to be trapped here, he was at least going to eat something.

[dnfao3tags]

dnf reclist - milo shits the bed

behold, a new trope.

— hanging out in my room by nervouswaltz (gen | comp. | 3k)

“And you can’t sleep in the guest house?” Dream deflates, pathetic. He looks intently at Patches, scratching behind her little ears, like the two of them are telepathically communicating. George watches him, drinks in the flutter of his eyelashes, the way his chest shifts with gentle, calm breaths, how the hinges of the knuckles of his fingers bend and flex as he strokes along Patches’ spine. Eventually, he looks up. “I can’t sleep in the guest house,” he declares, “because Patches will get sad if she can’t share a bed with me, and she’s not allowed in there overnight.” He says it as if it’s a definitive reason, even though Patches splits her time between all of the bedrooms, sometimes conking out on the couch for the night. “A compelling argument,” George muses, adjusting his pretend-monocle as though he’s some sort of gentleman and not like he’s sitting in three-day-old sweatpants and a hoodie of Dream’s that he stole from a basket of clean laundry that hadn’t yet made it out of the laundry room. “I suppose I’ll have to concede.”

— stay the night by cqfnce (teen | comp. | 3k)

Dream shrugs, and finally, George notices the shadows under his eyes, darker than usual. “None of the guest beds are made and honestly? I don’t have the energy to deal with that, and Sapnap is streaming, so I figured-” “Sure,” George cuts him off, playing with the hem of his shirt. “You can use mine, I probably won’t sleep for a while anyway, so.” “So,” Dream parrots him, drawing the vowel out. “Uh- thanks. You can kick me out when you need it- I’ll probably just take a nap.” “Okay, yeah, I’m just going to edit now. Have a nice nap.” And George is turning back to his computer, feeling the pull of productivity and wanting to get away from the feelings that are burbling in his stomach. “If you see Milo tell him to fuck off,” Dream adds, as he walks in the direction of George’s bedroom. “Or to go shit on Sapnap’s bed again.”

[incorrect-fnk]

Seven Tweets Part 8

[hecticlife]

"i can't believe birds of a feather was the most streamed song of 2024," leon tells milo as they hang out in the back of the record store. it's quickly becoming the blond's favorite place. especially because of the music, but also because the owner is such a cool guy. "i was rooting for espresso. that song -that album- is so fucking good."

@dcwnfalls

[astrvia]

' parece que siempre puedo contar con que traerás algo para engañar el estómago. supongo que contaré contigo la próxima vez que traiga apetito y tengas el bolso a mano ' comenta, divertido ante su afirmación. ' es una pena que haya quedado arriba. ¿lo perdiste en medio del desastre?' cuestiona, asumiendo que con todo el escándalo y la desesperación, era imposible acabar de una pieza. ' los amarillos eran solo alcohol' recuerda, porque él se había bebido los dos. ' ¿un secuestro? con todas las cosas extrañas que han estado mencionando ya no me sorprendería' ahí, le echa un vistazo. ' ¿ya sabes qué decir cuando te interroguen?'

‘ ¿y sabes qué es lo peor? ’ labios se fruncen en un caprichoso mohín, ‘ dejé mi bolso arriba, traía un paquete de galletas con chocolate para cualquier emergencia. ’ vaya ironía. de saber que estaría estancada en un búnker sin comida el resto de la noche habría empacado toda la alacena de la villa consigo. ‘ no, solamente tomé uno de esos tragos amarillos. ’ no se fió de los rosas. demasiada purpurina en su opinión. ‘ todo este teatro está cerca de ser un secuestro, lo siguiente que nos dirán es que no podemos ir al baño sin un guardia que nos acompañe. ’

[silkchvffon]

closed for my love @invcntions.

THE EUPHORIA OF FEEDING AND THE IMMEDIATE guilt afterwards always eats at frances. one would think the passing of time would make it easier, but shame only grows — and this despite the fact that she's doing her very best to go against her own nature. she's quick to return home after, even quicker to dart into the bathroom to wash away the remnants of blood splattered on her hands. she feels it when milo enters, that lingering icy air would've caused goosebumps to grow on her skin if it were possible. she remembers a time where he'd been warm, and soft, and alive. time hasn't made that easier either. « please don't hover, my dear. you know i don't want you seeing me like this, » she calls softly, looking at her lone reflection in the mirror before her glance falls back onto the now red water.