Dingy bars were so not her thing. Actually, from bars in general Annabelle tried to stay away from. She was enough to handle while sober and whenever the British blonde got drunk it only ever worsened. Still, there she was, sitting on a stool, alone, mulling over the fact that her publicist wanted her to enter in a fake relationship, for profit, her, who believed in love and was maybe childishly romantic. Despite the circumstances in which she was born, her parents still did love one another, didn’t they? It made her want just that. The smiles on the corner of the eyes, just by being with the other person. What would a PR relationship entail? Sure it would maybe feed on the persona she showed the world, but what about her? A couple fighting not far from where she was broke her away from her thoughts, she took a sip of her glass of wine, rolled her eyes at them and before she could make any mention to leave her place, she was talked to. How did she not notice Asher there? A brief smile widened her lips. Almost a hello to drawn out the awkwardness that quickly bloomed inside of her. She didn’t let it show, of course. She was confident. Impenetrable. His question caused her eyebrow to raise, doe blue eyes looked at him with cynicism. “Consider myself far too young to have experienced such tragedy, what’s so good about it anyway,” she shrugged, “do you think they’re in love?”
In all fairness, Asher knew it was Annabelle sitting beside him. Her presence was difficult to ignore from her icy blue eyes to those slender legs he could recognize in any setting. His brain searched for something smart to say, a flirtatious line that would make her swoon in remembrance of just who Asher Hemmings was. But it was clear that shipped had sailed and the young blonde was no longer as easily impressed by his mere presence any longer. Why they were suddenly sitting in awkwardness was beyond him, but truthfully he’d never been very observant nor did he typically do wellness checks surrounding the state of his hook-ups. “Consistent sex. General comfort. Joint income.” Asher listed snidely as he looked at the other, scanning her face for a trace of recollection surrounding their time together to simply no avail. She seemed detached from the whole thing which seemed unorthodox from the typical girls he found himself entertaining. “Probably not,” he dismissed, nodding at the bartender who dropped another drink in front of him that immediately found its place in his hand. “Just codependent I’d say which is precarious to a person’s singular identity. But then again, individuality is a dwindling condition. A few and far between these days, wouldn’t you say?” His smirk only grew, unable to resist the next thing that came from his lips in a way that seemed innocent enough. “Everyone wants to be TikTok sensations and social media influencers but I’d say it’s all the same. Nobody’s truly an individual anymore, just wanna feel special.”
A string quartet in a crowded ballroom. Gala’s were never his thing. The act of getting dressed to the nines to simply soak in the envy of some, and the boastful behavior of others wasn’t the type of even Asher looked forward to. But, it seemed wasteful to surpass a networking opportunity simply due to his own skepticism. The brunette had been roaming the marble floor of the grandiose ballroom, peering upwards at the gilded ceiling when the girl on his arm began to speak. To be truthful, he wasn’t even sure of her name which would be sufficiently awkward when it came to introductions. But she was the concrete, textbook definition of arm candy. Slender, tall, poised with the way she walked in heels and not to mention, the side boob that crept open in the side of her dress was in fact tasteful. But Asher saw in her what everyone else in the room saw in her: a beautiful girl. Nothing more, nothing less. It was cruel but as the girl ooh-ed and awed at the venue, Asher couldn’t fight the instinct to get away.
The magnetism between Asher Hemmings and the bar was palpable. He made his move in on the bartender, slipping his thick black credit card across the granite countertop to open a tap. The weight hitting the counter made some of the thirstier head turns, but Asher was used to it and shot them a snide smirk. He’d just turned away from the bar with two drinks in his hands, one for himself and one for whatever her name was, when something caught his eyes. A something attached to a someone rather. He would have recognized those gold hoops anyways, pinned against the same tan skin he’d kissed more times that he could count. The thought kept him up at night, distracted no longer by her presence but her absence instead. But in this moment, all he could focus on was her, Xyla. The last thing he was going to do was shy away in a corner and let someone nameless groupie chew on his earlobe all night. So, in true Asher fashion, he took action.
What had happened between him and Xyla was lost on him. It’d been so long, it seemed more like a missed connection than anything. He’d forgotten why he stopped calling, or perhaps why she had. But what’s past was prologue in this situation. It was time for a new beginning and as he approached Xyla, he was sure of it. “Well, if it isn’t my date for the evening.” Asher smirked down at her. “You should have at least texted me so we could have color coordinated our outfits. The last thing we want to look like is an unfashionable couple.” He could feel the ice in his date’s drink beginning to melt against his palm. Xy had entirely made him forget the drink’s presence so he held it out to her, a lame attempt that would have surely been transparent. “For you. Drinks on me tonight. Just walk up to the bar and order what you want and tell the bartender the tab is under Hemmings.”
“Isn’t it?” Lillian asked, completely agreeing with him. Love was honestly the last thing she wanted to talk about, considering her recent divorce. However, it wasn’t as painful because she hadn’t actually loved her ex-husband for the last couple years. “I have been once, but we fell out of love…which happens sometimes, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “What about you?”
“Demanding, too.” Asher playfully rolled his eyes. The argument between the couple at the end of the bar seemed to only be growing louder. It was to be expected of course. The only thing he couldn’t quite put his finger on was why the bartender hadn’t yet put a stop to their incessant bickering by now. “Was it truly love then? Or just a way to pass the time in blissful ignorance?” He asked honestly, not meaning to be harsh. But to be fair, it wasn’t like people we consciously assholes to strangers. “Married to my job. It’s easier that way. No complaining, no expensive gifts, no holidays with someone else’s family and certainly none of that.” He nodded down the couple that was still somehow arguing.
After a seemingly frustrating day with a customer who made a few too many passes at her, Teddy found herself wandering into the nearest bar she could find to get a drink. Don’t ask her why she’d ordered a margarita, all she knew was that it was the first drink that had come into her mind when the bartender asked for her order. Sipping her fruit drink, Teddy glanced at the man next to her when he spoke up. In her own sick sense of humor she’d almost said that it was an expensive one too, but that bordered a little to close to criminal activity. “You’re not wrong, its also odd how people draw it. Never looks anything like the actual organ. Then again, the actual organ probably wouldn’t look as cute on Hallmark cards.” She chuckled softly, taking another sip of her drink. The question was an easy one for Teddy, unfortunately so depending on who’s opinion you got on it. “Not really no. Crazy how I haven’t fallen for anyone in 26 years on this rock.” Might have to do with her being incredibly private too. “I just…I never felt that spark, ya know? Never felt that sense that they’re home. What about you?”
Asher laughed at the girl’s cheesy joke about the Hallmark cards. He tried to imagine a bleeding, anatomically correct heart consuming two people’s initially etched into the bark of an oak tree which made him chuckle more so. “Takes away the complexity of such organ, and the concept of love. Why do they even associate love with your heart anyways?” Asher asked, hoping that she would have an answer better than one that was just a google search away. As she talked about her own love life, Asher simply nodded, not thinking much of her response. Love was a complex thing for him as well. He never believed he deserved it nor could he conjure up the passion to feel it which was an entirely different story. “Nope. Struggling to find someone I want to spent a comfortable yet miserably eternity with.” He nodded at the bartender who dropped a replenished drink before him and he took a sip accordingly. “But if she keeps making drinks like this, I might have to clear up some closet space in my apartment for her. They’re strong. Next thing you know, I’ll be leaving my phone number on the tip line with commas instead of dashes.” He chuckled. He was well off but not that well off.
the question caused his brows to furrow, swallowing thickly as his own heart started to pick up its pace in rhythm. he didn’t WANT to think about him. but he always was. his late husband would always have a place in his heart and sometimes he wasn’t sure he’d ever move on. a soft chuckle escaped from his lips, raising his glass as he shook his head, “i’ll drink to that. a super fucking dramatic organ.” and he did just that, tossing the whiskey back without even a wince. “yeah. once. he was the love of my life.” jude admitted with a grim smile, “why you asking? i mean if you’re trying to confess your love for me, at LEAST buy me a drink first, babe.”
“How do you know someone’s the love of you life? You haven’t even live it to its entirety yet.” Asher asked cynically. He never understood the term, or the way in which people threw it around so casually. It seemed like every girl on instagram was captioning their pictures with the coined term as an homage to the scrawny boy they’d been dating one month. But he brushed it off, it wasn’t his life after all. “You think I’m going to try to pick you up by opening the conversation talking around your ex?” He playfully scoffed. “I’m not an amateur. If I was trying to confess my love for you, it’d take a lot more of these.” He shook the ice in his empty glass. “In which case,” Asher then flagged down. the bartender before smirking at the other man. “Want another? On me.”
The glass traded places between each of his wandering hands. He couldn’t quite find a place where it comfortably sat so instead he shifted it to and fro between his busies fingertips. The muffled motion of the glass against the wooden bar probably irritated fellow patrons but Asher’s mind did not allow him to rest. His eyes stared down the bar to a couple that were fighting loudly, both clearly intoxicated. At first he found the act amusing and couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous sight of two people in love arguing. Seemed a bit counter intuitive. “The heart is a dramatic organ.” Asher declared, nudging the person beside him as his glass found itself resting place between his lips. Setting the now empty glass down, his eyes looked up at the person who sat idly beside him. “Have you ever been in love? Like, genuinely?”
( MATTHEW DADDARIO + CISMALE ) — Have you seen ASHER HEMMINGS ? This TWENTY-EIGHT year old is a MUSIC PRODUCER who resides in BROOKLYN. HE has been living in NYC for TEN YEARS, and is known to be OUTGOING and ALLURING, but can also be ARROGANT and SELF SERVING, if you cross them. People tend to associate them with SCATTERED SHEET MUSIC ON A MARBLE FLOOR and GOLDEN BAR CARTS LITTERED WITH EXPENSIVE LIQUOR. — ( haley, 21, she/her, triggers: eating disorders & self harm, est )
hello all !! i’m haley and i’ve been roleplaying since i was like eleven but i just came back to tumblr rp a year ago and that just so happened to be with my baby asher, so happy anniversary to him being a muse <3
i’ve boiled his bio down into some bullet points because it used to be so fuckin long and i’m sure nobody read it so here it is condensed into just the basics
basics:
name: asher julien hemmings
nicknames: ash, aj
age: 28
hometown: cambridge, ma
currently living: brooklyn, ny
education: high school diploma, degree in music production from nyu
birthday: april 13th
zodiac: aries
sexual orientation: bisexual
tattoos: ** doesn’t have a neck tattoo like alec in shadow hunters lol but he has mad tattoos, two full sleeves
aesthetic: pinterest
before nyc (tw: alcoholism, abuse, prison)
asher was what some holier than would call a miracle or what other would more harshly call an accidental pregnancy.
his father owned a low-life club in the city, known for mistreating employees and sneaky business behind the scene. some speculated that the operation of the club was to simple launder drug money, however that is a far different story.
his mother began working at the club around her twenty-seventh birthday and took on a position as an exotic dancer. she never quite had a set career path, often working odd jobs until it lead her to the intimidating world of stripping.
asher’s father took a liking to her, in the same way he took a liking to most females that got hired at the establishment whether it be a guest or an employee. however, unlike the other, he got her pregnant.
their relationship was toxic from the beginning. seeing as the relationship was forced for the sake of their child, they didn’t get along great. cops were constantly called to their apartment during 2am screaming matches, a lot of nights spent with one of them on the couch. but it wasn’t bad enough for one of them to leave, but it wasn’t good enough for one of them to say i love you.
asher was born on a rainy day in the spring and came into the world with a smile on his face. the nurses even joked he looked like a young frank sinatra with the way he slyly smirked.
but the smile didn’t always stay on his face. as he grew up, he saw the repercussions of staying with someone out of convenience rather than love. while his mother fell in love with him and hand crafted her maternal instincts to excellency, his father developed a love for whisky and coming home late from work.
despite what they once thought, a child didn’t fix things. in his father’s worsening condition, he began to get violent. it started off aggressively verbal until it matured into a far more physical act. at first it was just asher’s mother taking the brunt of the abuse. but as asher began to get older, it wasn’t uncommon for him to a victim on the lashing too.
it wasn’t until child protective services got involved after asher in seventh grade came to school with bruises that anyone was even aware of what he was enduring. asher’s father was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for domestic abuse & parental negligence.
the abuse had made asher timid moreso than it made him aggressive. so when he and his mother moved in with his grandparents, he was hesitant around his grandfather at first. his grandfather tried to form a relationship with him doing everything from playing board games to watching television or going mini-golfing. nothing seemed to be able to break through asher’s timid exterior.
this was until one day his grandfather caught him plucking at the keys on their grand piano and offered to teach a young asher how to play. music was the first thing they truly bonded over and within a year, asher was playing better than most people can in a lifetime.
once moving in with his grandparents, his mother wasn’t around much. she was always with her latest boyfriend or with her friends. asher didn’t mind though, he enjoyed cooking with his grandmother or strumming a guitar with his grandfather.
in high school, asher became a punk. he strived in all social groups due to his charisma. he excelled with the music kids, got in with the burnouts, even was cool enough to hang around with the popular kids. teachers loved him despite not being the best student. it was impossible to hate him.
his music teacher wrote him his letter of recommendation to study at nyu. he never saw himself going to college but he was excited to reinvent himself.
in nyc (tw: alcoholism)
during his years at nyu, asher began to reinvent himself. he was no long timid or the least bit shy. he was suave and slick, getting along with almost everyone he came into contact with.
unfortunately when some many people love you, after a while, it begins to get to your head. it was no surprise to people when asher began to get arrogant and cocky about his musical abilities. but one thing he had to fake confidence with was who he was as a person.
asher didn’t like himself, hence why new york was such a turning point for him. deep down, he believed he didn’t deserve love or his success. but when he started getting praise for his music producing abilites all of that changed.
classmates were intimidated by him and professors were undoubtedly impressed with the way in which he could perfect a beat or make a hit simply experimenting. asher liked the attention, lived for the applause he’d get at the end of a presentation. the love others had for him inflated his ego but also drove him to success.
after graduating at twenty-two, asher moved to an apartment in brooklyn and immediately began interning at a record label. he didn’t necessarily like what he was doing, truly believing that he was too good to be there most days.
but even as an intern he excelled and at the age of twenty-five, he bought his own music production company that houses over twenty studio spaces for artists to record.
in three years, not much has changed. except his bank account has quadrupled, he’s moved from a shoebox to a villa.. oh, and he’s developed a bit of a drinking problem.
drinking started off a social thing for asher. a few beers at a college party here and there seemed to be the beginning of it. then it was shots, and then getting black out at parties and not remembering much of anything. being surrounded by famous artists in his career only made this habit worse. he was drinking to wake up in the morning, in the studio, before bed and repeat.
nobody knows much about his blossoming alcoholism but it’s quickly beginning to fester and consume him. but he’s pretty good at hiding behind the tortured artist facade.
personality:
asher is the epitome of smiling and rolling your eyes in the same instance. he’s charming and goofy in the same line and doesn’t miss a beat.
super flirty. will flirt w u. and ur friend. and ur friend’s significant other. that’s just how he is.
loves verbal sparring, the certified king of it
why is he always smoking a cigarette? nobody knows
can be an asshole, will most likely get you to yell at him and then laugh and tell you that you’re the one being ridiculous
Indecisive af
a ride or die for his friends, literally would kill for a buddy
wanted connections:
ex girlfriend or boyfriend: asher’s been in nyc for ten years so he’s definitely tried to get serious ab someone by now. their relationship was for sure super toxic. let’s plot.
college roommate: someone who went to nyu and has watched asher’s success absolutely blow up. someone who pulled him drunk out of parties and threw him their dorm’s cold shower. give me disappointed friends vibes or a strained relationship !! anything !!
half-brother: as far as asher knows, he’s an only child. his father was an alcoholic who often had affairs with the girls who worked at his clubs in boston or were in the city on business. it is no surprise that something came from his late night rendezvous. asher’s not the warmest person, especially when it comes to his negligent father. will anything come of the brothers sharing the city streets? or will they simply turn a cold shoulder to one another?
assistant: asher is a famous music producer with his own recording studio in manhattan. he and his personal assistant spend a lot of time together. this connection is pretty open ended so asher could be their mentor if they’re musically inclined but they could also be confidants, best friends, frenemies, potential love interest, fwb, up to you!!
ride or die: this man needs to have some friends who put him in his place plz, he’s a whole ass disaster
music friends: self explanatory
fwb/ex-flings: this man is so flirty if he hasn’t messed around w u he’s messed around w someone u know. give me angst. give me missed connections. give me unrequited. give me friendzone. give me anything.
彡☆ ok but i really want a plot loosely based on the tv show euphoria where our muses are close friends that like to party and do drugs together and whenever they get high they feel super in love and confess how much they care for each other but then when the comedown hits neither of them know how to act around each other. it’s going to be super messy, smutty, angsty and fluffy ok hmu !!
ok but a “you’re my best friend’s girl and i know i should stay away but i liked you first and god dammit i want you (oh and i’m a much better fuck let me prove it too you)”
