𓂅 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ⭑ 𝒎𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖

᱖  ࣪   ٫ ❪       #𝐌𝐘𝐓𝚰𝐌𝐄𝐃     ❫     :     an independent, semi-selective, roleplay blog, adored by momo, 27, she / her, est.

for every “♡” i get, i’ll give tips on how to win my muse’s heart.

babylon ; showing him respect, supporting his line of work, encouraging him in his endeavors outside of work, allowing him to take control, keeping their residence clean, asking no questions about his job.

the tension had been building all night, from the subtle glances to the noticeable eye contact while dancing with some other man in the club. it had taken an hour for jayce to become just tipsy enough, enough to take ren into a bathroom stall and push him against the cold metal siding. shut up and kiss me. ren says, and jayce takes no time, crashing their lips together. it was like a firework exploded inside his mind, the sensation enough to have his knees buckling underneath him.

[ PASSING CONFIDENCE ]  –  for the sender’s muse brush their finger’s against the receiver’s muse’s hand, too scared to hold their hand.

jayce isn't sure he's reading the situation correctly - did miles really just touch his hand, or was he simply dreaming? " miles, i - " he starts, but stops himself. was it the right time to admit to himself that miles might be what he was looking for all those nights spent at the clubs & bars? had he been standing here this entire time, in plain sight?

[ NONONONO! ]  –  for the sender to hold the receiver’s head / face while they’re injured, brush their thumb along their cheeks & refuse to accept that the receiver is dying.

babylon's lips are stained with blood as he coughs, sputtering droplets as he does so. he's been shot in the stomach -- he's normally so careful, so poised, and yet here he was .. clutching onto the last few breaths he might ever have. he smirks as he feels dante's thumb against his cheek, looking up at the other with the smallest feeling of hope, like maybe dante can pull him through this. but, alas, babylon was simply lying to himself. his body felt weaker and weaker with each labored breath, his fingertips, feet, lips feeling cold - lifeless. " sucks you've got to see me like this, huh. " he manages, hand reaching for dante's free one to squeeze as tight as he could muster. " should've killed the bastard when i had the chance. instead, look where a shred of mercy got me. "