Common Ground [Thom]

“I just…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said. He knew his stutter tended to put people in a state of unease. His agoraphobia didn't help, either. Thom kept his hands on this gaming controller, which helped him feel grounded. “Do you…do you have any pets?” he asked. It was easier like this, while playing a game, but a small part of him still wanted to see the smile on their face.

open: female presenting/m/nb 24+. (non) mutuals. pls do not like if we’re not mutuals. check exclusives. posted in beta! muse: Landon B. Wynter. supernatural au. wolf clan leader plot: y/m stumbles onto Landon doing away with a vampire that ambushed him. connection: friend. lover (female presenting/nb). other supernatural being fine but preference for humans who had no idea about his 'secret'

There is always a power struggle. The infinite urge to rip apart those who dare threaten what he holds close. Be that his own wolf clan or those straying too close to his truth, Landon's inherent nature is to protect. Lunging directly onto the revenant, tearing at them as if some unholy disease brought onto the world; he snarled, baring teeth as the creature beneath him attempted to push the werewolf off. Too late as this vampire was not one of the older ones he's come across in the past. There's always differences. Among age groups of both species but this time the pack leader tapped into something raw. The rage of a beast.

His breathing escalated. Doing away with one of his mortal enemies sounded so damn cliche. Straight out of some fairy tale but it couldn't be more real for him. Landon, however, was too engrossed in what he had done to even realize his frenzy had been witnessed. Sweaty. Disheveled. A dark layer of blood from the undead he tore into caked his fingers. He lifted his head slowly and gave pause instantly… "Fuck. You shouldn't be here." @indiestarter

open to: m/f/nb; 18+ Muse: Marius Northall, 26, bisexual and non committal Connection: friend, coworker, fwb, date, acquaintance, whatever strikes your fancy, romantic or platonic, anything goes here @indiestarter

"D'you know what they say about couples who wait until after Valentines day to break up?" Marius gave a little smile, turning his head to them from where he had been staring at the ceiling, "That the one who was brassed off was just a gold digger. Makes sense if you think about it. Personally, I've never even made it to Valentines."

open to: f 28+ - multi replies and non-mutuals welcome muse: antonio, 31 italian mafia (currently in NY) plot: antonio now knows she's a fbi agent, undercover to infiltrate and expose him, and there is a bullet with her name on... yet, it would be such a waste of something so pretty. tw: unhealthy/toxic relationship, forcefulness 👀, discussions around taking that further can be had. (just pls note my rule on my scary muses and treating them as such) guns, drugs oh and also some misogyny and i apologise!

With a groan, Antonio tilts his head to the side, absentmindedly rubbing fingers across the stubble on his jaw as thick brows knot pensively, as if willing the tension from his shoulders as he sits, long legs spread and Italian loafer clad feet lightly bouncing.

The question of what to do was heavy in the air. He can almost hear it sparking, unsaid, between the glances of his men where they stand around him, waiting for their orders. How much do the feds know? Well, they knew enough to send in their spies, that was evident. They did not know enough to keep their own house in order, however, as the information and identity of one of these informants had come via their very own. There was not a lot that money could not buy and Antonio appreciates the high price of a law man's integrity.

"Fine, send her in-" he huffs, killing women was not something he enjoyed. He did not know anything about her, she was low level, but still - even for someone like him this left a bad taste. Pulling a cigarette from the box on his thigh he dashes it across the table before him, and clicks his fingers for a light. The flame dancing beside him before the paper had even met his lips.

"Why do the federales send women to do their dirty work, hm?" He huffs, head shaking as he absentmindedly rolls the cigarette between his fingers and settles his dark gaze on the door that would soon bring the first rat he'd found in his nest.

open to: anyone f/m/nb (f presenting only for romance) @indiestarter

Forced to stop, Elijah closed his eye briefly. The blistering hot from his coffee, now spilled all over his chest, hadn't been as bad as it could have been thanks to his jacket. He looked to the other person, the one who had bumped him (or rather he had bumped as he wasn't paying attention) and just narrowed at them. The white lights of his eyes flickered blue briefly a few times, pulling up general information on the one he was staring down.

"Excuse you," Elijah said simply, keeping his eyes narrow as he pulled the front of his shirt away from his body with a sigh, "Lovely."

open to: mutuals only, no gender preference connection: a good friend, significant other (m only), sister, friend with benefit, the barman at the club, whoever floats your boat. @indiestarter

A loud laugh escaped the bright pink lips as the queen threw her head back, long blonde hair wiping back over her shoulders. Her head was spinning madly and she was barely able to stand on her feet. Long fingers were grasping at the bar counter as her free hand reached for the cocktail glass that she had not yet emptied. And yet, it was the sixth one. At least. "What do you mean I'm drunk? I'm not!" she snickered, taking a long sip of Cosmopolitan while giving the other a playful glance.

The gigantic queen whirled on her heels. A few drops of cocktail spilled over on her delicate fingers but she did not care. Oh, but she was drunk. Not just drunk enough, she thought, as she was still aware of everything happening around her. Especially the person standing in front of her and giving her an angry glare. "What? It's not alcohol! Just some Disney magic!"

- ̗̀ open starter!  ̖́-

to: m/f/nb

plot: idk they're divorced and fighting over who gets to keep the dog ( but she's upset over more than that )

                          "i don't get why you think you can just barge in here and snatch remus up like that. did you forget who picked him up from the pound? yeah, me. not you."

open to: mutuals only, no gender preference connection: a good friend, significant other (m only), sister, friend with benefit, a journalist from any media, someone she barely met, etc. @indiestarter

"Drag is often mixed up with prostitution and I don't have anything against sex workers, but we're not the same. Drag is an art and we're artists."

character: carissa jones open to: any set: summer after the events of the do revenge canon, carissa's nineteen

carissa sighs as she eyes her tomato plants. unfortunately, black leathery spots cover the bottoms. she already know what the fruit is going to look like. "goddamn, i should have had the soil tested. i thought everything was okay and going alright." she crouches down to study the plants closer, "i'm trying very hard not to view this as a metaphor for my life right now. a sign things are just going to continue in the shitty trajectory they have been."

@indiestarter

Open: m / f / nb ; mutual / non-mutual

Muse: Eloise Gray, 33 journalist

Plot: based on this... Out after just a few years on parole for a crime she didn’t even commit, Eloise may be loyal, she may never tell the cops the truth, but that doesn’t mean she will let this go entirely. Your muse has a lot to make up to her for... Relationship open to interpretation

Years spent helping catch criminals with the stories she wrote shouldn’t have led to this. This time, she had found herself perfectly in the wrong place at the right time. It seemed like a good idea at the time, protecting the one she cared about most. She just couldn’t watch them do time for this, knowing it would have been so much longer for them. At least for a first time offender, and getting out early on good behavior, she had a better chance. The question that just kept playing over and over in her mind was just... was it worth it?

Time would tell...

The cab dropped her off at home, with just her bag of things she had when she got arrested. She had hoped they would be there to pick her up, give her a ride home. But, of course, she understood that could be dangerous, right? No, instead there they were, outside of her apartment building. Eloise couldn’t quite place the feeling she felt. Happy to see them, sure. But... something else. “You’re here,” she said plainly, walking past them for the door. Her voice wasn’t a question, just a matter of fact, “...It’s good to see you. Really.”

@indiestarter​ 

Open to: Everyone Muse: Jeff  Relationship: Acquaintance Plot: You’re a regular at Jeff’s work. The both of you two got to know each other, share a couple drinks time to time, but yet there’s so much things the two had left unsaid leaving you both curious about each other. You happen to catch Jeff frantically freaking out when encountering a spirit.

“Why the hell are you here?!” he yelled as he quickly took the other’s hand making a run for it. The other was probably wondering what the heck they were running away from but this wasn’t the time to play twenty questions. It was a vengeful spirit and for some reason it had caught an interest in his dear acquaintance. Quickly heading into the dressing room closing the door. The staff were so occupied as the nightclub began to began to be filled with people swaying their hips on the dance floor. It’s not like he could ask his co workers to help. Trying to catch his breath he turned around looking at the other. “Explain. Why is that spirit taking an interest in you? I’m not dumb you saw it too.”

open: female presenting/f/nb 24+ (non) mutuals. pls do not like if we're not mutuals. check exclusives. posted in beta! reposting from old blog muse: Landon B. Wynter. photojournalist. 30-34 main verse. plot: After towing the line of feelings emerging while working on a story centered around your muse, Landon wonders what's really happening between you two. Story he's doing on ur muse can be plotted. Absolute plotting preferred on this.

"If you don't want me here just tell me. Just say what you can't seem to say." Posing serious terms to coming here when he shouldn't also poses a risk to his work. The truth will always set you free. Isn't that something most people agree on? Landon knew it could go both ways. There is a lot riding on this confrontation. Either he's wanted or he's not. It's that simple. It will take a whole lot to push him away but there has to be a reason to stay. Or he'll just move on from it. "Your word carries more weight than anybody else's. I want you to realize that. I'd DO anything for you. Even if that means walking away." @indiestarter

Scorch Mark Free [Alice]

"Listen, you're real sweet, and cute, but the truth is, I'm going to fuck this up. I'm going to hurt you. It's all I do. So this is your chance to get out now, scorch mark-free."

open to: f/nb any age / supernatural or not muse: beomsoo - demon, grumpy, mob enforcer, aggressive, 6ft 5, dom plot: told that she’s an important asset, beomsoo is sent to protect her - let your imagination run wild (and lets get saucy *wink*)  note: multiple replies are welcome c: i just have a rule about length ♥ 

“Would you just-” Beomsoo growls as his skin itches to move. It wasn’t safe here. It was exposed and he has nothing but his back to protect her from flying bullets. “-do as you are told!” He finally snaps with a roar, once all of the fussing and arguing, refusing and being so damn... little and delicate, had eaten away at the very last piece of his sanity. Beomsoo is not good at negotiation, nor is he good at staying still, or being patient. 

Lowering his hulking form down, he cares little for airs and graces as with a step forward and a firm, slightly gripping, hand on her ass, he has her up and over his shoulder in one swift move and is rising to his full height again with a almost graceful movement that shouldn’t be possible of a man his size... manhandling a woman. 

“Women-” he huffs under his breath, having put the absurdity of this situation down on the fairer sex, not that he had turned up, demanding that she come with him and given very little by way of explanation. “Now you’ll do what you’re told” he huffs, a small tweaking at the side of his lips showing his amusement, before he delivers a decisive slap against her ass, quite temptingly close to his face, with the other hand. 

open to: anyone m/f/nb (f if it gets romantic muse: Elijah King, vampire verse connection: up for grabs. could be a first meeting, could be acquaintances, or maybe they run into each other all the time. whether or not your muse knows hes a vampire is up to you (though i prefer personally to keep it a secret at first) @indiestarter

"I prefer to think of myself as... sort of nomadic," Elijah gave them a sort of crooked little smile, "I don't really have a place of my own, per se. But, I manage. It's freeing to be able to go wherever I want. Don't you think?"

open to: mutuals only, no gender preference connection: a stranger trying to hurt her sisters (other queens), someone who already doesn't get along with her and is doing this on purpose to rile her up. @indiestarter

"The problem, right now, is that you're hurting my sisters, but you're forgetting one thing. I'm a lioness. You don't hurt my sisters."