Open Starter - Blog Posts

open to : males !

plot : loosely based on this song but take it wherever you'd like -- feel free to message if you want more info or would like to plot

The party was in full swing, the air thick with cheap perfume, sweat, and the bass of some overplayed club mix. Winter wasn't even sure whose house this was—just that it was big, expensive, and filled with the exact type of people she tried to avoid.

And yet, here she was, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching a group of guys take turns admiring themselves in the reflection of the microwave door. All sharp jawlines, designer sneakers, and the same rehearsed smirk. The kind of guys who knew they were pretty, who expected the world to bend over backwards just because they flashed a grin.

"Let me guess," she said, tilting her head as one of them caught her staring. "You're about to tell me you’re different from the rest?"

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.

OPEN STARTER, OPEN TO ALL. PLOT: Becca (she/her || 24-29) called your muse after waking up covered in blood with no recollection of what happened. This can go anywhere I honestly don’t mind but if you’d like to plot it out more feel  free to message me.

Becca sat on the edge of the bed, the dingy motel room a stark backdrop. A sharp rap on the door shattered the silence, leaving her frozen, unable to speak or move. The door swung open before she could react, and they stepped inside. Their words were a blur, lost in the fog of her own shock. She stared down at her hands, crimson stains mirroring the sticky crimson clinging to her clothes. Her gaze lingered on a crust of dried blood under her nails, a silent indictment. 'I tried to wash it off,' she whispered, her voice barely a rasp, 'but I couldn't.' Finally, she met their gaze, a flicker of clarity piercing the haze of confusion. 'I don't know what happened,' she choked out, her voice laced with anguish, 'I can't remember anything.'

Who: Open Background: Owen is a single father and is new to the neighbourhood.   “I’m so sorry, my daughter is at that age where all she wants is to live her adventurous life. I hope she didn’t scare you too much.” Owen and his daughter had moved into the apartment complex recently. His daughter was a good kid, but she was also a free spirit; she loved running around and hiding in places. It didn’t matter if Owen had told her a thousand times to stay away from other people’s property, if she wanted to explore she was going to find a way to explore. Which was why his neighbour found Lily in their garage. “Again, I apologise for the intrusion, and I assure you it won’t happen again. Right, sweetheart?” Owen’s gaze shifted to his daughter as the little girl nodded her head. “I, um — we’re new here, actually. Moved in three days ago. Despite this regrettable first impression, I’m Owen. and this is Lily. It’s nice to meet you.” Owen’s smile radiated warmth as he extended a welcoming hand.

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.”

Open Starter

Astrid felt her heart jump into her throat as she’d walked into the conversation. She almost didn’t want to believe what she’d heard. “Is that true?” she asked him. Her boyfriend wasn’t supposed to lie, right? “Am I a fucking bet?”

I'd love to find some new people to write and plot with. Please give this post a like if I can come drop you a message to plot <3