Open: Females

ok but a plot where one is a criminal that’s on the run from the police, and they stumble across this practically empty motel that’s in the middle of nowhere, and they think, hey, perfect place to hide out for a few weeks until the manhunt dies down. the motel is run by a married couple, and their sheltered, somewhat naive child – well, actually they’re an adult by now, but they’ve never left their small town, had a job outside the motel, or been anywhere, and their parents still treat them like a kid. the criminal checks in, of course not mentioning why they’re here, and the owners’ kid is fascinated by their guest – they hardly ever get guests for more than a night at a time, let alone guests who seem to have so many interesting stories and secrets….

Ruby read his message, and if she wasn’t already mortified, this just about sent her over the edge. She collapsed back on her bed, wishing it would just eat her up and save her from this whole situation.

Her jaw dropped. Well 😈? THAT’S what he was going with? And then the follow-up? Oh, he was insufferable.

Her face burned as she gripped her phone, debating whether to block his smug ass altogether or try to salvage what little dignity she had left. But knowing King, ignoring him would only encourage him. And if he thought she was just going to roll over and let him have the upper hand, he had another thing coming.

With a deep breath, she started typing.

Text to King: Glad you like it. Too bad it was meant for someone who’d actually get to see it up close.

She bit her lip, smirking, imagining his expression when he read that.

the male was led in a very relaxed position, sprawled over his bed with one arm propping up his head. at this point he had lifted his torso in order to clock the farther window which was in line with her own. he could just about make her out in the mix of the glow of her lamp and the shadows that surrounded but he knew she was panicking. of course he was probably one of the last people she would want to be in receipt of a photo like this, and really he should delete it.. but on the other hand, he'd already seen it now, might as well take advantage of the situation. scrolling his fingertips over the screen to zoom in as he held the phone over his head in a led down position a smirk tugged at his features when a text came through from her again.

text to girl next door: well 😈

text: that's a cute little set you've got there

okay, so he couldn't help himself, he was handed a golden opportunity here and why wouldn't he take it? especially when nothing else exciting was going on this time of night other than a few other messages he chose to ignore.

ofblcssxms​:

CLOSED STARTER || ft. @littledaydreamers​ || Elsie Newman

Injuries came hand in hand with the title of enforcer. Though, Ivan was usually the one inflicting the injuries and throwing the punches instead of having them thrown back at him. A cut eyebrow and busted lip was all the man had walked away with, though it was more than he was used to. The men he fought didn’t usually fight back. Hence, why he’d been taken off guard, and why the other had managed to get a few stray punches in. Heading back to base with his tail between his legs, Ivan immediately made a b-line for the medical corner. Blood dripped down his face, pouring from the cut above his eye. The other man had somehow managed to clock him with a pair of knuckle dusters, making Ivan’s face not so pretty to look at right now. “Elsie, get in here!” He shouted for his protege, hissing as he cleaned the wound with rubbing alcohol. Gritting his teeth, he then ushered the woman over, grabbing a suture set. “Try not to ruin my face even more, huh.” He joked, holding out the set toward her. 

It had been a long day. A long, boring day. Elsie had been stuck at the base for nearly forty-eight hours now. It was tedious, to say the least. She was used to coming and going as she pleased, never really one to fully follow the instructions she had been given, but she had pissed off one of her handlers after killing more people than they have instructed her to. Not to mention the fact she hadn’t killed them in the way that was ordered. In her defense, their way was too boring. If she was going to kill someone, she wanted to have some fun with it. When she heard her name being called, she immediately jumped up from her seat, enjoying the prospect of having something to occupy her time. Elsie followed the voice she suspected to be Ivan. A laugh erupted from her lips. “What the fuck happened to you?” She laughed once more. “I thought you were supposed to be good at this, no?” Elsie teased, raising a brow. To most, he would have seemed intimidating, maybe even scary, but the blonde was still yet to come across someone who stirred such feelings in her. Perhaps it was just the fact she had grown quite comfortable with the male. Plucking the suture kit from his hands, she placed it on the tray next to her as she picked up the suture needle and went to work on the cut. “I’m not sure that’s possible. It already looks pretty fucked up to me.” She tsked, her accent thick as she concentrated on the stitches. 

Open to || females only Muse: Casey. 23-27 . straight. he/him pronouns Connection: friends, fwb, anything along these lines

Casey wiped the blood from his lip, the taste of copper metallic in his mouth. He knew he couldn't stay. Not this time. His dad had gone too far. They'd been in fights before -- Casey had experienced broken bones from his father's wrath, but something in the way his dad had looked at him tonight, eyes blazing with a fury that made Casey's skin crawl, was different. His dad had even reached for the knife off of the kitchen table. Casey was sure he'd only been saved because of the knock at the door. He needed to get out, get far away. He thought of his friend, her bright smile and the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. He'd insisted they were just friends, afraid of admitting the truth. But now, with his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach twisting with fear, he knew he had to tell her. "I need you. I need to get away, and I need you to come with me." He didn't know if she'd say yes, but he had to try. The thought of staying, of facing his dad's wrath again, was unbearable.

"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.

WHO   :   closed | @amoonlitmemory​ WHERE   :   the tavern WHEN   :    late afternoon

Quiet in his seat, Jacob continued to watch the scene between the two in front of him unfold as he nursed his drink. He’d had a busy day and wanted nothing more than to just enjoy a tankard of ale and his own company but it would seem that the two arguing in front of him had another idea in mind. Looking down at what was left in his tankard, he chucked his neck back chugging what was left, leaving a pleasant burning of alcohol in his throat. Taking a stand as he noticed them getting more aggressive with each other, he let out a sigh and began to walk over. “Enough.” He stated, his voice calm yet with a sharpness to it. Jacob looked at them both straight in the eye as he put an arm between them. “If you’re going to behave like children, then I will be your daddy. Now, you go that way and you come sit with me.” The male instructed with a warning look that told them it would be safer not to argue with him.

“I’m a doofus”

Kai exhaled through his nose, the smirk still there but less sharp now—more amused than anything. "Oh, sweetheart, trust me—if I wanted some wide-eyed girl to fawn over me, I wouldn’t be wasting my time here." He leaned back against the bar, finally giving her a little space, but not enough to let her think he was actually backing down.

"Alright, Pia," he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "I’ll play nice. Wouldn’t want your pretty little head to explode." His tone was lighter, still teasing but not as cutting. He tapped his fingers lazily against his empty glass, eyes flicking to her whiskey. "Still—whiskey, huh? Didn’t have that one on my bingo card. Thought you were more of a—what was it? Mimosas kind of girl." His lips twitched. "Gotta admit, this is a nice little plot twist."

His gaze dipped to her ink, and this time, there wasn’t a joke waiting on his tongue. "Tattoos are good, though," he murmured, studying them. "Thought you'd be all minimal and dainty with them—" he smirked, nodding at her wrist, "and I was right. But they suit you." His voice lost some of its usual sarcasm, a rare moment of sincerity breaking through before the teasing returned. "Let me guess—each one has a deeply meaningful story, or are some of them just because they looked cool?"

He tilted his head, still watching her, voice dropping just a little. "But hey, I’ll stop assuming things about you if you stop assuming things about me. Fair trade, princess." A slow smirk crept back onto his lips. "Or you could keep pretending to hate this conversation while staying exactly where you are. Your call."

pia was no stranger to arrogant men, she encountered them all the time, it was a weekly occurance whether it was through her dad or generally at work. however, this guy.. THIS guy was another kind all together. "oh so you think me ordering whisky is purely for your benefit? what, so i can prove myself to you? show off? pfft." she turned away from him as she shrugged her shoulders, the fabric of her grey acid wash denim jacket beginning to loosen as she slipped it off to reveal her halterneck top she had on underneath. it was revealing, quite low cut to show her cleavage just enough and was held there by the miracles of tape considering she was sure it wouldn't otherwise. you could now clock the various dainty little ink patterns she had on her skin in various places and the jewellery that hung from her wrist. all worth more than anyone could imagine, but most of them were sentimental and gifts rather than things she'd bought for herself.

"i think ignoring you is probably best for the both of us." she turned her head as she tipped her chin so that her knuckles could rest underneath as she waited for the filled glass of whisky to return infront of her, of course on the rocks. she didn't have to justify herself to him, she wasn't even that insecure-- not to say she was big headed or egotistical either but she was reasonably confident in herself. "why don't you go bother some other girl who will give you heart eyes, and obsess over everything you say?" she muttered as she took a large sip of her drink. her friend had left to go and play pool and her other friend was dancing so she was left to decide which direction she wanted to go towards. for now she was content as long as he wasn't about to stay in a close proximity but either way she didn't want to leave because that would mean he wins.

Plot 68: Stranger Danger

Brooke shook her head. "I can't. DJ will find out—I know he will, he always does." She replied, her voice filled with fear.

open | f/m/nb muse | trenton biggs, he/him, 35, mafia member connection | anything! could include coworker, gf/bf, ex gf/bf, best friend, fwb, stranger, rival gang member, etc (no taboo pls)

"just let me do this for you," he insisted in effort to help the other.