get creepy, get sleepy

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse ---

Alternatively, send ‘ + ‘ after the symbol for the roles to be reversed where possible! Please specify the muse for multimuses!

✘ = hugging them.

Δ = playing with their hair.

❤ = kissing them.

₪ = asking them out for dinner.

☀ = giving them a gift of _ ( asker’s choice ) .

♘ = stabbing them.

♕ = bowing down before them.

♒ = lying to them.

✿ = buying them flowers.

☾ = being found shirtless.

♢ = reading them a story.

☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm.

✎ = speaking in a different language.

✏ = teaching them a different language.

▄ = telling them a joke.

♬ = singing to them.

☹ = insulting a loved one.

ஐ = slapping them.

✂ = threatening them.

❃ = dancing with them.

▤ = falling asleep on them.

☮ = waking them up after a nightmare.

♣ = discovering them crying.

回 = patching a wound.

✮ = stargazing.

▓ = caught stealing their belongings.

☽ = wandering alone at night.

♡ = complimenting them.

≡ = offering a place to stay overnight.

☢ = falling over.

✦ = being well-dressed.

❂ = wiping blood off their face.

◎ = taking care of them while ill.

☁ = being caught in the middle of a storm with them.

⇕ = holding their hand.

↱ = being lost with them.

☠ = pushing them against a wall.

"I think he photosynthesizes. Actually. Kind of an unlimited energy source, the sun."

caleb landry jones as dracula

The first punch buckles his knees. His hand shoots out, hooks into the collar of Mathias's shirt, and drags them both on his way down. Still, Mathias maintains the high ground. He swings again and connects with his jaw. Kyle's grip on the other man's shirt never loosens. The free hand never makes a fist. His breathing slips from the rhythm of adrenaline to the cadence of arousal.

Mathias cocks his arm back again, but the impact never comes. He's restrained in a moment that happens too quickly to process and dragged back. Kyle sags against the wall, turns his head to the side, and spits a red glut, extinguishing a dropped cigarette.

"You better get your man," he crows, inexplicably triumphant, entirely gratuitous. "He beat the shit out of me for no reason. I could press charges, you know. I could fuck his life up."

He focuses on Mathias. Big nervous hands searches for any sort of injury on his bandmate, hoping he really wasn't the one to throw the first punch. When he finds nothing, Nick leans in, carefully directing Mathias' gaze upwards. Immediately he freezes.

The once familiar blue eyes are wild and unfocused; pupils blown out, a spot of red spreading like spilled wine on white carpet. Something sharp feels like it's caught under the skin of Mathias cheek. Red drips out of one nostril slowly as if teasing the possibility of something more serious.

i don't know what it is, but i want you.

tell me i look beautiful underneath the stars.

kiss me in the dark.

you're dying to have me.

you tell me. i'm open.

baby, let's get fucking crazy.

i like your playlist. turn it up a little louder.

summer isn't over yet.

there's no darkness when you can still feel the light.

tell me what you might do tonight.

it's my favorite part.

something about you gives me a vibe that i'm not getting from any of these guys.

my body's got other plans.

i wanna step into your world.

i like the way you do your hair.

i need to be with you.

everyone disappears right as i'm with you.

have you ever seen a pretty girl get ugly like this?

everybody's telling me to sit there and look pretty.

i'm feeling like i wanna cause some trouble in the city tonight.

boy, you better know your place.

i'm way too pretty to get ugly.

i'd rather take your card and go straight to the bank.

i can see you're terrified.

it's getting to me.

let's get this nasty shit off my chest.

there's been rumors i'm a good girl.

let's put that shit to rest.

there's room for everyone, but is there really?

talking to you gives me butterflies.

i wanna text you all the time.

it's innocent until we kiss.

baby, i'm crushed.

it will never be us.

don't act like you and me are not the same.

yes, hello? what's wrong?

wanna go on a date sometime?

tell me, how sexy am i?

how good is this life?

every night's an event.

kiss me. kiss me french.

show me something i won't forget.

i'll be your girl for two months.

let's make a mess.

everywhere we go, it's a main event.

i want it so much.

i'm still the same.

that's the thing with ambition. everything's a competition.

i wanna be loved.

i still crave your love.

i still want the recognition.

the more i experience, the more mysterious it gets.

it feels so good to know i don't know what i'm doing.

i'm about to jump.

i just wanna keep you on the phone.

feels like you're touching me with your voice.

anything to get you undressed.

talk to me. tell me what you wanna do to me.

dance for me.

you can show me everything.

i don't wanna hang up.

i wanna feel your body when you call me.

The Wytch grinned in amusement, watching the other male fumble into action to accommodate his unexpected company by graciously making room on the bench. His cigarette smoke never came near Mylo, but the smell lingered -- it was no bother to him. Centuries of burning incense and candles tended to make him nose blind with strong aromas. "Sorry," he laughed, settling down on the bench with one leg under the other before dropping his backpack upon the ground. With how beautiful the weather was today, he decided to venture outside on his break and see what the world had to offer. "I tend to have a bad habit of sneaking up on people..." One part of being a Wytch was their ability to move around quietly, but it often had the unfortunate downside of startling people.

"Aw, don't worry, spooky stuff comes with the territory." He gives a light laugh, "It's not like I'm afraid of ghosts or anything."

Not that he's ever seen one. When he thinks about it, maybe he has, but had been too tired to clock it. Not out of the question, it's like his default setting is tired, no matter how hard he tries to push through it. He lifts his can of Monster to his lips and takes a swig, hoping that the energy drink will actually energize him rather than make his anxiety go faster.

"Oh, jeez... uh..." He rubs his chin at the question, his brain slowly churning through all the facts it's ever saved. "I want to say ten-ish years, give or take? I used to be a chef before this, so working the retorts wasn't the biggest jump. It's kinda like the same thing." (It's not, he's joking) "So that's probably why I haven't messed up yet. Or maybe I have, and I'm just too charming to sack— a personality hire if you will."

Nick takes another sip of his drink. If Mathias were around, he was sure he'd get a slap to the head and a good scolding. 'You're just a couple of ha-ha's in a meatsuit, aren't you?' He could hear it as clear as day.