oozey mess
Not today Justin
trying on a metaphor
ojovivo
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation
NASA
taylor price
tannertan36
Origami Around
if i look back, i am lost
occasionally subtle
Sweet Seals For You, Always
hello vonnie
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
we're not kids anymore.
Sade Olutola
AnasAbdin
seen from United States
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@hrmonies
š±š¼ š»š¼š š¶š»šš²šæš®š°š šš»š¹š²šš š®š³š³š¶š¹š¶š®šš²š±. / tar, twenty5, hehim.
milo callahan, saintĀ rivera'sĀ iceĀ hockeyĀ titans and new directions.
lynden lowry, saintĀ rivera'sĀ jazzĀ ensemble's hornist, saint rivera's swim team and chess club.
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milo, top 3 people you'd like to sing a duet with!
ā easy! first, syd. cliche, but he's my best friend and i naturally want to do everything with him. plus, he's a great duet partner whether it be for fun or for competitive reasons. second, stella. have you heard her voice? woah. truly, like an angel... i think we'd find a good harmony together, for sure. uh, third? hmn. valeria! i think our charisma would mesh real well! plus, she's so charming. it's hard not to want to duet with her! ā
who/what was your last dream about?
ā i dreamed about being stuck in a saw trap. it was some proper scary shit, man. well, until marijoy came out dressed out as the little puppet dude on the tricycle. it was all rhinestoned and glittery. luckily, all i had to do to get out was confess my feelings to the person i liked. easy stuff since bedazzled billy, i think that's his name, eased my nerves. just uneasy being in that gross bathroom, ā he grimaces and shivers, ā last time i fall asleep watching stuff like that. ā
fmk fontaine, sydney and conrad
fuck fontaine, since he kinda scares me and i think he'd bite me if i tried to kiss him. still think he's a great guy... killer on guitar and quite possibly a killer! marry syd, that's my best friend! who wouldn't want to marry their best friend? me and syd know everything about each other, easier to marry someone you know by heart than someone you don't, right? kiss connie, another best friend of mine, lucky me! and, i can guarantee that he's a good kisser too! and if you were expecting kill, i won't do it. they're all great guys.
cheers to the freakin' weekend! for this week's sleepover meme weekend, we are bringing back honesty hours! please make sure to reblog this post and open your inbox if you'd like to receive questions, which can range from anything silly goofy, FMKs, this or thats, invasive personal matters, as long as they're in-character! the only requirement here is that these questions are answered honestly, duh! please note: the answer to these questions should be considered private, unless the writer specifically notes that they're public knowledge! think of it as mostly for the community to get to know muse's headspace unless stated otherwise!
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"yes, you are a bad performer." most people would try to soften their answer. dance around it, wrap it in pleasantries or make it sound less of an issue than it actually is. not julian. without brutal honesty, how is one supposed to improve? however, he could tell by milo's reaction that the younger male hasn't been hit by the cold hammer of reality very often. admittedly, his kicked puppy demeanor tugs a little on his heartstrings. "but that doesn't mean you are hopeless," he assures, letting out a sigh as he closes the notebook with a quiet thump. "it just means you are untrained and inexperienced, but being a bad performer doesn't have to be a permanent condition. i wasn't born performing on my current level either, you know?" it's true, his god given talent could only take him so far. "quite frankly, you have a lot that can be worked with, and under the right mentorship, i could see you improve quickly. and luckily for you, you now have access to the strongest and most knowledgeable vocalist in the new directions. me." he places a hand against his chest, and a smug little grin plays on his lips, seemingly satisfied with his own peptalk.
julian finally shifts his attention toward the records milo has spread across the table. his eyebrow arches as he takes in the selection. indie pop, some showtunesā¦ wait, is that queen? "did my rendition of it's a kind of magic inspire this choice? on back-to-school day in the auditorium? you snuck in, didn't you? if you were impressed, you can simply say so." or was milo just trying to flatter him now? well, the attempt is appreciated either way. julian sets the record down and moves to the showtunes. "theseā¦ are certainly not what i expected." examining his picks more carefully now, he can't shake off the feeling that his pairing choices are too unsual for a titan. too good. how could he not be a little bit suspicious? "of course, he knew i would like these..." he mumbles under his breath, eyes narrowing as he stares directly at milo. "so, you're telling me you just picked this? and this one? and that you somehow arrived at stephen schwartz on your own? because that doesn't make any sense. at least half of these are something i would choose, so naturally i can't help but question your motives. are you secretly this cultured, or is this the titans's opening move of psychological warfare directed at yours truly?" the words leave his mouth with full sincerity. julian isn't about to let this slide without a thorough investigation. "tell me the truth, milo. did carter cortez sent you here with a carefully curated music selection to lower my defenses? did he instruct you to weaponize your big brown puppy eyes and that alarmingly infectious smile to disarm me? is he using you to sabotage my mashā no, don't answer that, actually," he suddenly cuts himself off, gears visibly turning in his head. "no, i'm giving him way too much credit now. the neanderthal who filed sondheim's sheet music under b for broadway, with complete confidence, and then defended it to me.. no, there is no way he is capable of orchestrating a level of deception this sophisticated. but that being said, you obviously have some explaining to do."
ā© . . . the brutal honesty hits hard and deep. milo had never been nothing more than milo, his name becoming an adjective as it was the only word that entirely encapsulated who he was. so, hearing julian bluntly call him a bad performer sends a flurry of negative thoughts through his brain. had the term milo a bad thing all along? teeth take his lower lip, chewing against it whilst eyes focus on how his, now clammy, hands continue to intwine themselves with one another. his eyes slowly draw up at the talks of improvement, small smile pulling on his lips. easily mendable, easily pleased.
ā so, you're going to help me? ā that smile only continues to grow, a spark returning to dimmed eyes. maybe julian wasn't entirely evil, maybe he didn't have to dim milo's light to make himself better. or, maybe this was his strategy to outshine every other member. regardless, it seemed to work in both their favors. ā i'm a fast learner, i promise. i'll take it all on board and came back better than you'd ever expect! ā now fully immersed, hands flat against the table with a mirrored smile... somehow, devious. milo was easily influenced by his peers. he had to be in it to win it, even if the prize solely consisted of bragging rights. however, when the attention is returned to the records sprawled across the table, milo seems to retract. not entirely, certainly timid though. ā me and the guys were doing some research. it was one helluva performance, though. i can see how you got your role in new directions. ā subtly smiling, conveying something of sincerity. it was all true, regardless, the entire campus knew it. julian may have been selfācentered but he wasn't delusional.
he also had an annoyingly great intuition. milo had thought these choices were rogue enough to not raise suspicion. who didn't know pippin? ā psychological warfare...? secretly cultured...? ā muttered beneath his breath, looking off into the distance in a faux pondering thought. he wasn't confused, and his act wasn't all that convincing. he draws back to julian, eyes narrowing. ā is this a bit? you're messing with me, right? ā pulling the corner of his mouth up into a smirk. ā come on, julian. everybody knows pippin. company. follies! ā hand slaps down at each mention, eyes shooting wide with each slap. ā this is all common knowledge, even if one of my dad's has a history with the west end and broadway... ā it slips off his tongue, each word drawing quieter and quieter than the last.
ā point is, i'm not some secret spy, i just know my stuff like nearly everyone else. you can stop overthinking it all and just focus on us doing the best out of all the mashups. ā he eases himself, hand continue to shift further across the table until it rests flat before julian and his notebook. ā so, julian devereux, will you be the pippin to my freddie mercury? ... unless you have a different pick? ā his smile is smug, no denying it. he knows it won't throw julian off his scent but it'll deter long enough to let julian be the shining star he's so destined to be.
MILO CALLAHAN HAS SET UP A KISSING BOOTH?
people noticed a stall appear in the middle of the campus green earlier this afternoon, milo callahan close by with his rucksack filled with mints, gum, lip balms and an assort of refreshments. was he currently missing classes for this? maybe. that was irrelevant, he was merely sharing the love with his peers, one kiss at a time. SO, if you want a smooch from one of the hockey titan's finest, come down to the campus green any time from 10 to 4:45 to claim your kiss! one kiss per peer, must pay the 25 cent fee. well, unless your name is sydney fennewick. you get multiple, and for free.
like and comment to receive your kiss! ( š )
julian perks up, instantly regretting cutting the younger male off. the greatest, indeed. milo seems to be picking up on the hierarchy in glee club rather quickly, a promising start. however, when his expression shifts from cheerful to fearful at the mention of notes, julian begins to have doubts again. had nobody given milo constructive feedback before? it would certainly explain a lot if that were the case. "now what kind of captain would i be if didn't prepare in advance?" he asks, arching an eyebrow. deciding to simply ignore the panicked look on the younger's face, julian continues to flip through the pages. "not all of them. i keep notes on everyone in new directions. we are a competitive show choir, milo. it's important to know your strengths and weaknesses. you want to improve, don't you? but yes, that's quite a sensible suggestion. let us sit down first." julian gestures toward a pair of chairs tucked into a corner of the store. he wastes no time, and immediately begins reading his notes to milo after they sit down. "strengths: a pleasant vocal tone. above average stage presence." he flips the page again, barely giving milo a chance to take the 'compliments' in before shifting to criticism. "weaknesses: a highly concerning tendency to sacrifice technique in favor of enthusiasm. a habit of smiling when you shouldn't be. not every song improves by you looking delighted to be on stage, milo. it just makes you look like an amateur." he looks up from his notebook, gauging milo's reaction. there were a few other issues, things that could be addressed at a different time. "truthfully... i was expecting much worse." not exactly a compliment, but close enough, at least by julian's standards. "you picked out some options?" another surprise. so, the kid didn't just arrive early, but actually put some thought into the assignment julian still intended on fully taking over. it was almost endearing. "very well. since you've been doing quite well, i'm open to hearing your pitch." how generous of him. he leans back in his chair, folding his hands together. "you have exactly three minutes to convince me not to completely ignore your ideas and make you perform mine. try not to waste it. "
ā© . . . milo wasn't one for constructive feedback. milo was just milo, no feedback necessary. it was daunting for him, hearing that his best wasn't good enough anymore. ā right, totally! ā slipping past a laugh laced with tension. he knew he could always be better but he thought that came naturally, without the requirement of external input. eyes shift every which way as they relocate, mind flooded with thoughts of the worst possible outcome. this was uncharacteristic for milo, a guy who lived in a state of constant ecstasy. what would funny girl, fanny brice, have to say about this? don't rain on his parade, julian devereux.
the initial notes are hopeful, nodding in agreement of his positives with a beaming grin. ā knew i had.... ā annnnnnd he's cut off. the look of gratification wiped entirely by the time his tendency to always smile throughout his performances. perhaps he should do a genre shift from indie pop? a comfort to him that makes it impossible for his smile to falter. milo callahan had never felt like a failure. that wasn't acknowledged in his vocabulary. but now, he felt tiny. useless. a failure. his body had retracted entirely, hands beneath the table as they anxiously fiddled with one another. ā so i'm a bad performer? ā he muses, mind lost from all positives and focused on his amateur ways. there's zero eye contact, eyes low and away from julian and his, suddenly, intimidating persona. he hadn't just rained on his parade, he'd caused a category five hurricane that would require years of rebuilding. ā yeah, uhā here you go. ā middle and index press down against the stack, pushing them out toward the other. his comment of ādoing quite wellā brings a faint smile to his lips, concealing a scoff. unlike julian, he'd never want to offend. ā i picked out some of my favorite albums and some of my favorite musicaā some musicals i've been recommended. ā he corrects himself, albeit a lie just waiting to be called out on. he reaches over and adjusts the pile until he's paired each one with another. ā i thought pairing showtunes with indie pop could be fun. ā head still remains tilted low, eyes only peering up momentarily until he assumes julian is going to disregard his ideas entirely. time for plan b. he pulls another vinyl hidden beneath the pairings. ā or, i was thinking something from queen's jazz? like, don't stop me now? i don't know. could be fun? right? ā tone is soft and shy, fearing the words that could possibly follow.
šĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ĖĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ļ¹ć ¤ć ¤Ā Ā Ā there was nothing he needed more than this right now, time with milo as fundamental as oxygen, didn't think anyone else here understood him better as the friend he'd known for as long as he could remember. and maybe milo knew him better than he knew himself, and so he'd been looking forward to this hangout, just two of them after a stressful endless week of hockey practice, glee club rehearsals, and everything else he was involved in, all for the pursuit of earning the privilege thrusted upon him. but breadstix was also hardly the place for these sentimentalities, the private frustrations and tired confessions would have to wait until they were back in their dorm, lounging in one of their beds till they pass out. "Ā so, how's dealing with julian devereux this week? he's not giving you a hard time with the whole mashup assignment, is he? Ā " he asked, partially concerned with julian's reputation of being a drama king, but mostly just because he just wanted to hear milo talk. it didn't really matter what the conversation was about, but hearing his voice cut through everything else was already an appetizer of comfort. something to focus on, to latch on, when he'd rather not think about anything else. "Ā ā¦but i guess it doesn't really matter how well you work together. cece and i are gonna kick everyone's asses anyway. "Ā it was half-true, thought cecelia and him were probably the most prepared people anyone would ever meet, but there was also nothing wrong with a little competitive spirit to get both of them hyped up than stressed about it.
šš°š²š»š®šæš¶š¼: breadstix dinner with the bestie. time for a check-in to make sure neither of them have gone down with glee-induced madness. @hrmonies
ā© . . . sydney was the moon to milo's astronaut in the way that he'd forever exist in his orbit. he was the first person, outside of his immediate family, to not diminish him of his capabilities and lack thereof. sydney made him feel capable. safe. himself. every moment spent with sydney fennewick was a moment spent well. so, when they'd arranged their date in the guise of a weekly checkāin, milo counted down the days, hours, minutes, seconds until it rolled around. and it wasn't like he had let the other forget about it, constant reminders prior, during, and after each practice, meeting and goodnights. a simple man with simple needs, those needs being breadstix's breadsticks shared with your best friend.
he'd spent the first few minutes clutching breadsticks in his mouth to mimic a walrus, as per standard protocol at every breadstix meet. again, simple man, simple needs. the mention of julian, surprisingly, brings light to his features, pulling the breadsticks and placing them on his side plate with a quick swipe of the mouth. ā julian's cool! yeah, a little... theatric, but not a nightmare! got our songs picked out and everything. ā his praise, or attempt, is genuine as face radiates glee and arms rest their weight against the booth table. ā we do, however, need to invest in a record player. kinda went overboard in harmony record's trying to impress him... ā widened features represent regret in the form of a faux wince as he pulls back into his seat. sure, milo wasn't the brightest nor wisest, but it could never be said that he wasn't a wonder. while many wouldn't understand the sheer idiocy of his actions, sydney was there to rationalize and justify. that's why he needed the likes of him around, never made him feel like a moron. well, most of the time. ā oh really? is that a promise? well, me and julian are for sure gonna mega uber kick everyone's asses! you and cece? toast. ā he knew that wasn't guaranteed but he'd rise to the challenge. this was a new venture for milo and he was bound to rise to the challenge. ā my guy julian is running our mashup practice like the goddamn navy. good luck competing with that! ā smug, even though his threat held an uncertain promise. ā did cece give you pages on pages of feedback from your audition? ā hand cups around his ear, directing it toward his best friend. ā huh? what was that? no, didn't think so. ā laughing it off in jest, unaware of how julian's notes could have been more of an insult than a compliment.
by the time julian arrives at harmony records, he has already decided in his head how this meet up was going to go. perhaps that defeats the entire purpose of a randomized collaboration project, but he can easily justify steamrolling his partner to himself as demonstrating strong leadership as the co-captain of the new directions. as he steps inside, he spots milo almost immediately. not because he had paid him much attention in the choir room, but because he had spent the better part of last weekend meticulously reviewing the recording of his audition, carefully noting his strengths and weaknesses. the younger boy was flipping through some vinyls, looking entirely too cheerful, and admittedly not even remotely intimidating enough to justify the level of annoyance julian felt about being paired with him. if anything, it throws him off a little, just how harmless he actually looked up close. "hello, milo," he greets him, calm and professional as ever. "thank you for being on time. a little early even, mhm? that's good, because before we can start discussing our mash-up assignment, there are a few notes we need to go through." julian reaches into his satchel and pulls out a thick leatherbound notebook, already flipping through its pages before milo can even respond. "surely you're open to hearing your captain's constructive feedback?" ( @hrmonies )
ā© . . . milo had arrived at harmony records almost half an hour prior to their set meeting time. he'd been given insight on julian's domineering nature which had caused slight panic given milo's own relaxed outlook on life. but he was a guest within julian's orbit and had to respect that, hoping to ease the tension with his typical overbearing kindness. a friend to many, but never all. especially, julian devereux. he'd occupied his time by admiring the outer sleeve artwork of various vinyls, despite not owning a vinyl player. he had to kill the time! he'd already selected a few songs for the mash-up, specifically searching through the masses of vinyls for them. by the time he's greeted by julian, many had been tucked away beneath his arm.
ā julian, hey! ā wide beam stretched across his brims, a bright gleam in his eyes. ā of course! iām serious about this, especially being paired with one of the greaāā notes? ā he looks dumbfounded, as he typically does, tone a little more shocked than normal. ā right, of course, ā shaking his head as his eyes slowly draw down to the notebook and the pages... and pages, of notes. ā yep, totally open to feedback from the captain! ā a nervous smile has since replaced the one of joy, quitely gulping as he offers a two finger salute before pointing toward his notebook. ā quick question. well two. one, are all those pages about me? and, uh, did you wanna sit before giving me, uh, this feedback? ā his eyes slowly return up to julian, putting on a feigned smile that masked any and all fear. he's quick to distract himself as he pulls the records from beneath his arm, extending them toward his partner. ā i picked out some options for the mashāup, gonna need your thoughts on that too. ā cheeks almost drawn up to his eyes if he'd attempted to fake a smile any harder. perhaps this was more nerve wracking than he'd initially imagined or would proceed to let on.
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intermission. god's apology for all that is wrong with the world, also known as milo's sacred space. he was often found roaming the aisles past midnight, as if he were a ghost that was trapped within the store. especially since he looked extremely ghastly beneath the fluorescent lighting. each week, he had money set aside to restock on snacks, drinks and the odd trinket perched by the cash register. he'd made a decent display over the years and displays it with pride. his favorite being the miniature rubber ducky in saint rivera's colors, to the extent that each teammate of the titans received one. currently, he was balancing several bags of chips atop a case with glacier freeze gatorade which the store clerk set aside for him each week. rapport matters! he hadn't the common sense to set the contents down whilst pouring out a slushy... a #CLOWN, and karma for trying the new flavors out with a cupped hand out beneath the nozzle. inevitably, the chips go each and every way with the case of gatorades splitting and rolling out into the aisle. ā CRAP! my gatorade... ā his yell falls quiet with his mourning, shoulders dropping in defeat and lips falling on a pout. his luck only gets worse with his slushy falling from the tilt and splashing across his favorite pair of joggers, staining them with red 40 and blue 1. ā oh, come on! ā an irritated groan, followed with a muttered, ā you're such an idiot, milo, ā as he smears the slushy contents into the joggers until they become a shade of saturated violet. admittedly, he was neither the brightest nor wisest, with little regard for the mess he'd created in a mere matter of seconds or the innocent bystanders on a late night snack run. after a loss of dignity and many paper towels later, he finds himself crouched against the slushy machine gathering the remaining chunks of slush. he notices a foreign shadow beside him, shoes soon coming into sight. ā just a second, nearly done here. then this stupid thing is all yours! ā a hand raised out to them, half apologetic, half annoyed, 100% embarrassed.
setting: intermission, the beloved convenience store that seems to become a major inconvenience for milo. your muse witnesses the aftermath of his destruction and deals with a slightly irritable milo.
LYNDEN LOWRY, THE (TRUSTāFUND) BOHEMIAN.
JORDAN BAKER ALL AMERICAN | 4.16 Labels
KHOBE CLARKE as beau maxwell in off campus (2026 ā).
MILO CALLAHAN, THE CLOSET THEATRE GEEK.
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