Is Larry Stylinson Still A Thing? If So, I Have Some Prompts If Anyone Wants To Rp >.

"Don't take it personally. I'm just used to it being just me," Felix replied, scratching the back of his neck, feeling awkward. He'd always hidden his emotions away from others, and it was weird trying to be open and honest around Arden, even with her gentleness.

"you know i care about you right?" arden says gently to the other with a small sigh that leaves her lips. "you don't have to hide away from me when things get hard." // @littledaydreamers

Kai watched her leave the set with a smirk, half-amused, half-pushing down his own reaction to the tension between them. He leaned back slightly, eyes following her movements, but he made no move to approach. She’d made herself clear, hadn’t she? He knew exactly what she meant when she said she wasn’t playing games, but the challenge of keeping his hands to himself was something else entirely.

He followed her retreat with a cool smile, stepping away from the set but not leaving her too far behind. He wasn’t going to make things harder for her, not right away anyway.

When she returned to the dressing area and poured herself a drink, he let the silence stretch for a beat, just long enough to make it uncomfortable. "You’re going to have to calm down eventually," Kai’s voice was low, smooth as ever, as he leaned against the doorframe, watching her. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, knowing she felt the heat from him too.

"This set’s about chemistry, right? You want me to act like I don’t already know exactly how to push all your buttons?" He pushed off the doorframe, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her, the hint of something more dangerous simmering in his tone.

"i swear.. if you do anything to mess this up.. kai, i'm serious this is important to me." she gave him a bemused tilt of her head as she smoothed her hair and ruffled the ends that had been curled. there was a coordinator on the set to put kai and pia in their first positions which had to be with pia practically in his lap.

of course any position she was going to end up in was going to remind her of the nights prior where they spent hours making eachother feel incredible. even slipping into his lap and trying to muster up some chemistry like they hadn't already met she could already hear his moans replaying in her head on a loop.

after a few minutes she was a bit stuck, because she couldn't continue anymore. "can i take five? sorry." luckily the photographer was quite understanding and pia wondered back to her dressing area to drink some water. already in a jug for her with ice and lemon she poured herself one filled to the brin as she felt like her body was on fire.

Closed starter for @amoonlitmemory

The night air was cold against Lydia’s skin as she stood outside Kaleb’s window, hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. Her breath clouded in the space between them, between where she stood and where she knew he was, just beyond the glass. The night had gone to hell— just another disaster date.

She raised a hand, knocking lightly against the glass, just like she had a hundred times before. A ritual. A quiet, wordless way of saying, Hey, I’m here.

A moment later, the curtains shifted, and there he was—Kaleb, bathed in the soft glow of his bedside lamp, eyes heavy. He opened the window without a word, and she climbed through like it was second nature because it was.

“Rough night?” she asked, voice low.

"Well, you certainly made an impression," Isabelle stated, a wry smile playing on her lips as the male took a seat next to her. "Not many people would bother to step in like that." She couldn't help but admire his chivalry. "I appreciate it, though. It's not always easy being a lone woman in a place like this."

The brunette let her eyes rake over the male as she took a sip of her drink. "So, you want casual conversation, huh? Let's see. What's a six-foot-something guy like you doing in a place like this? You don't exactly fit the 'pick-up-artist' stereotype." Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, gauging his reaction. "And, you're right, security should have done something sooner. But, it takes an actual fight for them to even bother to pay attention." Isabella replied, rolling her eyes "You seem like a guy who likes to take charge. Tell me, what kind of 'interesting' conversations do you usually have?"

open to: f connection: friend or stranger at a bar @indiestarter

It'd been a long fucking week. All Wyatt wanted was to have a quiet night with a glass of cheap cold beer, potentially eye fuck a girl or two before dragging his ass back home to ignore his roommate and pass out on the couch while watching old sitcom re-runs. Not too much to ask for in his opinion. Unfortunately, some drunken twathead began nagging at the pretty ladies sitting by the bar basically begging from them to go home with him. None were entertaining him but they all recoiled. Finally, Wyatt grew tired enough to get up - all six foot five inches of him - to push the man out of the bar ... doing security's job for them. When he re-entered, he shook his head at the woman who opened her mouth to thank him. "No need, sweetheart. Just doing what security should've done five drinks ago." Taking residence next to her, he smirked her way. "Pay me back with casual conversation. It's been a while since I've had an interesting one."

a fucked up modern day marriage plot where a rival mob boss marries his daughter, muse a, off to muse b to calm the tension between the families. at first they hate each other, but once forced to live together, they start warming up to each other, too stubborn to let it show. then one night he comes back from an important deal gone wrong, his face is fucked up and he’s feverish and she takes care of him all night and etc etc etc…i need it?

He watches her closely, a flicker of regret crossing his face as he notices the way she pulls at her sweater, her demeanour shifting. He uncrosses his arms slowly, stepping closer, his voice softer than before. "Minnie..." He pauses, letting the words settle before continuing. "I didn’t mean it like that." His expression softens, and there's a subtle vulnerability in his eyes now. "I just... I’m trying to be real with you, even if it comes off wrong. Not everyone gets what they deserve, but that doesn't mean I think you're foolish for wanting it." His voice quiets, almost regretful. "I just don’t necessarily expect it for myself, yknow?"

watching the others reaction as he crosses his arms she frowns at it. how standoff ish he was being toward her made her feel small and begin to pull at the sleeves of her sweater. "you should care.." she said her voice soft. when he suggested that he may not be looking for forever she nods her head a bit understandingly. "that.. that's true.. if that's the case no harm ya?" she paused for a moment when he mentioned how not everyone gets the kind of love she was talking about and her gaze drops feeling like it was a direct hit at her heart. "you're right.. foolish of me to think so.." she said softly biting on her bottom lip.

Mei froze mid-rant, her fingers tightening just a little around the bandage she was wrapping around his leg. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous little slits. "Oh-ho, crispy, is it?" she echoed, voice deceptively light. "Just a little crispy? Owen, you look like a marshmallow that someone dropped into a campfire and then tried to convince everyone was still edible!" Ok, so maybe she was exaggerating a little, but she was just trying to get her point across.

She huffed, pressing the bandage down with just enough extra force to make him wince. "And elbow grease and a scrubbing brush?! Oh wow, thank you, Mr. Domestic, for your deep and insightful cleaning wisdom! I’ll be sure to remember that while I’m on my hands and knees scraping your poor life choices out of the floorboards!"

Her frustration hitched when he grinned at her—grinned!—like this was all some big joke. Like she wasn’t currently battling the very real urge to smack him upside the head with the nearest throw pillow. "Owen, I swear to everything good and sparkly--If you make one more joke—" And then he called himself a big, glazed doughnut.

For a moment, silence. Then, a deep, slow inhale through her nose. "Oh, you did not just—" The glare she gave him was like none other she'd ever given.

But just as quickly as it flared, her anger deflated. She sighed, shoulders slumping, as she secured the last of the bandages with a little more gentleness. "You know I hate this, right?" Her voice had lost its sharp edges, replaced by something quieter—something raw. "I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you act like your pain is just… a funny little inconvenience. I hate that you think I only care because of the mess or because I have to clean you up." She tied off the bandage with a little flourish and then sat back on her heels, arms crossing. "I care, you big, dumb, freshly burnt doughnut because you matter. Because you being okay matters."

She sniffed, then nudged his uninjured leg with her foot. "And because I like stealing your medical supplies, but that’s beside the point." A pause. Then, grudgingly, "... You are kind of a glazed doughnut, though."

Owen sighed, though the attempt was somewhat stifled by a sharp intake of breath as Mei pressed a bit too firmly on the singed flesh of his thigh. "Explosion battlefield? Now that's just colourful," he mumbled, trying to inject a lightness into his tone that he wasn't entirely feeling. He knew Mei worried, and he appreciated it, even if her worrying took the form of theatrical frustration and a concerning knowledge of bloodstain removal techniques.

He watched her, amused despite the discomfort, as she ranted about cotton and floorboards. "Relax, Mei. It's nothing a little elbow grease and a good scrubbing brush can't fix." He even managed a small, lopsided grin. He knew she hated that he dismissed things so easily, especially when those "things" involved explosions and blood, but it was his default setting. Panic rarely solved problems.

When she called him a doughnut, he chuckled. "A big, glazed doughnut," he corrected, then immediately regretted it as her glare intensified. He understood her frustration, truly. He knew seeing him hurt bothered her more than she let on.

"I know, Mei," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers. "But I'm alright. Just a little… crispy. Besides," he added, attempting to lighten the mood again, "who else would you steal medical supplies from if I wasn't constantly providing a reason to?"

someone do an au with me like he’s a photographer and she is the model like a playful one that is always being cheeky and he’s just serious. she knows what she wants in life and he’s just lost in life since his girlfriend died 5 years ago and he doesn’t know what to do but she just a ball of sunshine and he was just instantly attracted to her but scared that he was going to forget about his dead gf and ends up loving her

"I'm sure you would be the same if the situation was reversed." Zoe replied chewing her lip to keep the bashful smile from her face. "And who's to say I don't actually like this guy I met?" She asked matter-of-factly as she raised a brow.

"you're so dramatic," comment flows easily, laughter escaping his lips -- tongue darting out to dampen them. smirk growing upon noticing the redness growing on cheeks. "some guy at the club getting pictures like that? damn, can't imagine if what you'll send someone you actually like."

Ruby felt her stomach flip when his message came through, her fingers curling around her phone as the words sank in. She hadn’t expected him to push quite this far. Chewing on her lip she questioned how to proceed.

text: talk about trying your luck... what will I get in return?

The brunette sat up, and crossed her legs on her lap as she began to take the plaits out of her hair. She still couldn't quite believe the way their conversation was going. They'd been been friends for a while now, he was easy to get on with and even easier on the eye but she'd never once thought he would have found her attractive yet tonight had proved otherwise. He knew her dating history and the type of guys she wasted her time with, she couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind -- was he into this or was it just a little bit of fun?

text: i mean technically you are the guy that I'm texting-- the other guy left me on read🙄

he knew there was every chance that when he text her that last message she could shoot him down, yet he decided to toss his hat in the ring so to speak. he wasn't tied down to anyone, though there were plenty of rumours about him getting back with his ex but he had no interest in persuing that further. they'd broken up for a reason. he felt like he'd wasted a year of his life to be with someone who made him look like a fool and yet was constantly trying to push her way back into the picture. he wouldn't say he felt nothing, it was quite hard actually first love and all but he wasn't going back there. instead he was dancing on this fine line with ruby, where she had the opportunity to shoot him down.. and yet she didn't, which he found interesting.

"fuckkkk." he groaned at her reply, only imagining what that could possibly look like.

text: lace as well.. god you're killing me.

text: sneak peek?

he leant up a fraction propping himself between the pillows and his bed post and got himself more comfortable as this conversation continued to unfold.

text: if i was that guy you were texting, i wouldn't be able to contain myself knowing that's what you had on underneath that easy accessible dress of yours.