｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ Nine People I'd Like To Get To Know Better ｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

Closed Starter || @amoonlitmemory​​

“So, the camp is supposed to open tomorrow, but at the moment we only have 4 camp counsellors, one cook and one nurse. No one knows who is in charge - and did I mention the kids are coming tomorrow?” Asher ranted, feeling more than a little stressed. He wondered how he wounded up in this position as a Summer Camp Counsellor, but then he remembered the other had pressured him into the position. “Remind me why I let you convince me to do this?”

Open: Females

It was the aftermath of another shift, and it had been a rough one. Quinn had lost two patients in the matter of 12 hours. He'd come home exhausted, both physically and mentally. All the other had done was show concern and yet a screaming match had happened. She’d locked herself in the bedroom while he’d gone to have a cigarette. A few hours had passed when he went back inside, finally hearing the bedroom door open. “I was out of line,” he muttered. “Sorry, I’m so hard to deal with sometimes. I don’t mean to be.”

"Funny, sometimes I think the same thing." Owen replied with a shrug knowing she wasn't the only one responsible for the way things were.

open | f/m/nb muse | paisley jones, she/her, 39, physics professor connection | anything! could include coworker, gf/bf, ex gf/bf, best friend, fwb, enemies, frenemies, stranger, etc (no taboo pls)

"sometimes i think you must hate me," paisley spoke with a forced chuckle, trying to hide any hurt that was tempted to seep through.

Rhiannon stood frozen in the middle of the road, her bare feet numb against the cold, slick asphalt. The rain poured down relentlessly, soaking her to the bone, but it didn’t seem to faze her. She shivered violently, her body trembling with the chill, but her gaze remained fixed on something distant, something far beyond the reach of the storm. Her clothes clung to her skin, dripping with water, but it was the bare feet that seemed most out of place, her toes curling against the icy ground, leaving behind smudges of wet footprints where she stood.

When she finally spoke, her voice was weak, barely audible over the roaring storm, but there was a coldness to it that seemed to cut through the rain. "I’m fine," she muttered, though the words were barely a whisper, strained with the effort of speaking. She didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t move even as her body continued to shake uncontrollably from the cold.

Her teeth chattered as she spoke again, her voice sharper this time. "You shouldn’t have stopped," she said, her tone distant, as if the words weren’t meant for him at all. "It’s not safe for you here." She let out a soft, breathy sigh, her feet shuffling slightly on the wet ground, but her gaze never wavered from the horizon.

closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this

Rain was already spitting against the windshield, blurring the already indistinct lines of the two-lane highway. Lucas gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. The weather report had been dire – flash flood warnings, potential hail the size of golf balls – and all Lucas wanted was to be home, safe and dry. He glanced in the rearview mirror, a habitual check even though he hadn’t seen another car for miles. Empty. Just the churning blackness behind them, reflecting the red glow of their own taillights.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through him as his eyes snapped back to the road. Someone. Standing right in the middle of the lane. Lucas slammed on the brakes, the tires screaming in protest against the slick asphalt. The car shuddered to a halt just inches from the figure.

Heart hammering against his ribs, Lucas shifted into park and killed the engine. The sudden silence was broken only by the increasing patter of rain against the roof and the frantic thumping of his own pulse. "Okay, okay, stay calm," he muttered. This was probably just some poor soul who's car had broken down, he reasoned.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment and got out of the car.

The figure was definitely human, though the darkness and the rain made it difficult to see clearly. They were facing away from the car, head tilted back, as if staring at something only they could see in the storm-wracked sky. Their clothes were damp and clinging to their frame, and a shiver wracked their body, but otherwise, they were motionless.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Lucas called out, cautiously approaching. The flashlight beam danced over the stranger's back. "I almost didn't see you. Are you hurt?"

Lydia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her shoulders finally slumping as she perched on the edge of the bed. She glanced at Kaleb—really looked at him—taking in the exhaustion in his posture, the quiet understanding in his eyes.

She gave a small, humourless chuckle, running a hand through her already-messy hair. "Yeah," she admitted, voice quieter than usual. "Always."

She let the silence linger for a moment before flopping back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. "I swear, I could write a book on bad dates at this point. Chapter One: ‘How to Spot a Walking Red Flag in Five Minutes or Less.’"

She threw an arm over her eyes, shaking her head. "Tonight's disaster? Talked about himself for two hours straight. Didn't ask me a single question. Like, sir, I promise you, I do not care about your fantasy football league that much."

A short laugh escaped her, but it lacked any real amusement. "The worst part is, I knew. I always know. Five minutes in, and I was already plotting my escape. I should start carrying smoke bombs or something—make my exits more dramatic."

She peeked at him from under her arm, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. "Or, you know, I could just stop going on these stupid dates altogether. But where’s the fun in that?" Lydia stated, flipping over on to her stomach to look at him properly. "Your turn... Make me feel better about my tragic night."

Kaleb’s eyes widened a fraction as he saw Lydia’s familiar silhouette against the window. Of course, it was her. When a date went south—and they often seemed to do so for her—she always ended up at his window. He’d grown accustomed to the soft tap, tap, tap against the glass, a signal he knew well. He pulled back the curtains, his own exhaustion mirrored in her posture.

Without a word, he unlatched the window. Lydia clambered inside with the practiced ease of someone who'd done it countless times. It was a routine, a comforting ritual built on years of a friendship deeper than most people understood.

Kaleb knew she wasn’t really asking a question. It was more of a statement, and one he already knew the answer to. He just nodded as he replied, "Always. You?"

Closed Starter || @dxrlingdevils​ Charlotte didn’t freeze as the men shouted the slur at her from across the street. Just like she hadn’t frozen when she had seen the red graffiti written across the outside wall of the place she worked, outing her to practically the whole town. Unlike Lara, she was used to it, and so when the brunette stopped dead in the street shocked by his words, Charlotte just grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. “It’s fine, just ignore them.” 

I really want an AU where our muses are married and to their friends they look really awesome and happy but they’re just not. Maybe they are having a difficult time having kids, or they can’t really make ends meet, but whatever it is it’s putting a terrible strain on their relationship, yet in public they act like the happiest couple on Earth.

Kai watched her turn to leave, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. Oh, hell no. She wasn’t getting off that easy—not after that. Not after the way she kissed him like she meant it and then had the audacity to act like it never happened. Like she could just brush it off, walk away, and pretend she wasn’t still feeling it just as much as he was.

Before she could slip too far, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist—not hard, just firm enough to stop her. To make her look at him.

"Nah," he muttered, voice lower now, rougher. "You don’t get to do that, princess."

His grip was steady but unthreatening as he pulled her back, just enough to spin her toward him again, just enough so that their bodies were close—too close. His free hand found her waist, pressing her back against him.

"You don’t get to kiss me like that," he murmured, his gaze locked onto hers, intense, unwavering. "And then act like it was nothing." He let the words settle, his thumb brushing absently against the inside of her wrist. Steady pulse. But faster than before.

A smirk played at the corner of his lips, but there was something else in his expression now—something less teasing, more real. He leaned in just a fraction, just enough for his breath to ghost over her lips, deliberately testing the waters. "You can say whatever you want," he said lowly, his voice smooth, taunting. "But we both know you’re not walking away because you want to. You’re walking away because you have to."

His grip loosened then, giving her the choice. Letting her decide if she wanted to stay. If she was going to run, or if she was going to stop pretending.

there was no expiration date or thought of when this might end, though the urgency of both of their actions was leading them down a very slippery slope in terms of restraint. there was only so much you could push at the actions of desire before there's a want and a need to escalate it further. of course pia was very aware that the longer they did this that she felt that fire the moment their lips pressed together. it was like all her irritation for him channeled into that one moment where she could just get tangled up in him and their bodies would do the only talking. the problem being that she knew the moment they stopped that he would ruin it, one way or another. pop her bubble in a matter of seconds just by opening his mouth.

they were both panting in their breaths in the silence as they pulled away from one another but not far enough that she could still feel his body pressed against hers and the tension it yeilded. the moment she saw that smirk of his begin to form she immediately regretted her decision. how could she be so stupid as to spur on his behaviour? she just wanted him to stop talking in all reality.

her orbs rolled in irritation, the pet name back in full force, didn't take him long did it? "i already am thanks." she portrayed a very sarcastic grin, aware of what she may have caused. "good thing that this is never ever happening again, huh?" she pointed out in a very definitive tone. who was she trying to convince really? because even she didn't believe herself. "if you'll excuse me i am going back inside to join the guys in their game. i'll let you finish your cigarette." she shifted so their bodies were finally apart and let out a sigh of irritation.

“we just broke up and i honestly can’t stand being with you right now but i was trying to leave and apparently we got snowed in so i guess we’re stuck together” au

Ok but I actually need an apocalyptic/end of the world/zombie apocalypse type rp where muse a has been living on their own for so long and has a good setup going and is comfortable, but one day finds muse b hurt and nurses them back to health and then they start trusting each other and surviving together and then together they finally go looking for other survivors or help and it’s all just bloody and gory and life-or-death but they are hella cute ok can I have that? Please??