#( open. )
"It's only spring, but it's still sweltering out. I wish I could swim and take a dip in the lake to cool off...but I...ah... don't know how to. Maybe I could just sit in the shallows."
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MUSE : nathaniel zhào
OPEN TO : f
CONTEXT : we moved into a little apartment together while we were dating and then we broke up but neither of us could really afford to get our own place so now we’re stuck as roommates, watching each other bring home random one night stands or dates.
❝ he seemed.... nice, ❞ except that the word felt bitter on his tongue and nathaniel continues not to lock eyes. ❝ how many guys has that been this week? ❞
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muse - silas , ski lodge attendant , he / him .
plot - plot inspo in source ! but basically a love affair between the two , your muse always sneaks away to silas when they're having issues with their partner .
open to - f/nb , 23 +
"want me to make you forget all about it?" silas asked, pulling the other close to his chest. it was silent for a moment before he cupped their cheek, leaning down closer so their faces were just inches apart. "you know you deserve better than that."
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Staring is rude.
.......he's lookin. Regardless. Right. at. You.
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open for male muses
muse: Airy, 311 years old, huodou, homosexual, bodyguard
situation: Airy worked as your muses bodyguard
Airy sighed, running a hand through dark hair. "I don't need to give you any reason for why I quit." And still, he hated the way the other male was looking at him, staring him down. "Fine, I did quit because of you. Happy? That's what you wanted to hear?" So what? It was not changing a thing, wasn't it. A one sides crush was a one sided crush, if he worked close to him or not, and it had been beyond unprofessional to fall at all.
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"you like this, don't you ? i remember you saying that ."
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he's growling at something unseen in the corner of the room.
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"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twe-"
"-WAIT A SSSECOND! I am precisely three gear cookies short! This will ruin the entire dessert display! Damn it! Which foul-mouthed glutton is behind this?! No use hiding, I will find you!
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He waddles up to you and paws at your pantleg. " You should... you should give me that. "
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"I feel like either kissing someone or mauling them. Maybe both."
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MUSE : cyrus moon, med student and male nanny
OPEN TO : f / m (platonic) / nb
CONTEXT : fuck soulmates, be my academic rival
❝ saw the test scores posted up on the board this morning on the way to class. looks like you dropped a few points, slacker. ❞
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muse - hyun , ceo of a major tech company , he / him .
plot - this could be literally anything lol
open to - f/nb , 25+
"are you wearing my shirt?"
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OPEN.
"I may not get with women," Often, "But this allows me to really understand them."
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who? open to the troupe
where? Nornwatch Tower
when? who knows, they are hangin' at the end of the world
Concerns upon concerns weight on his mind the more time he is left alone to sit upon them. Their time in their tower is indefinite, the seconds pacing slowly as every moment that passes brings him closer to discovery. A month ago— Abyss, two weeks and a day ago, discovery would be his main concern. Yet, despite still ranking relatively high amidst his many— and increasing — concerns, discovery no longer ranks first. The Iskaran Kingdom had fallen on the span of a day, and with it the most pressing threat of discovery. What could the Witchers do now, surrounded by supernaturals as they are? What could the Witchers do now, that the mines were not a convenient tomb for anything deemed not human enough? What could they do, with increasingly limited resources, when faced with the sheer number of supernaturals he had seen through their desperate journey to safety? The true number of supernaturals remained a mystery even to him, but his Infernal Sight did not simply go away in times of great danger and he had caught more than a glimpse of non-humans as they traveled the darkened tunnels.
Discovery remained a concern, always, but there were more pressing matters to attend. Rationing, assuaging fears, inspiring hope, deescalating conflict. As much as Mikhael hated to admit it, the surviving Witchers had been working around the clock to keep the peace, but there were only so many of them and their priorities were clear: the nobility above the commonfolk, the royal above all else. Their hosts had their own concerns as well, so he had taken it upon himself to make his rounds through the less monitored groups of refugees and offer a kind word and a warm smile to try and keep the morale. It is crucial, now more than ever, to keep the will to live going, for without it? Without it the chances of survival dropped drastically, and he is determined to push those chances up with all he has.
He is not made by determination alone, though, and even the most devout must rest. He is resting in one of the many spiraling staircases found across the keep, chin in hand as his gaze is lost in the horizon, when he hears steps approach and he lifts his head, a brow raised in polite inquiry.
"Apologies, am I in your way? Shall I move?"
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open to mutuals .
[ the context ] he overestimated his readiness to have that conversation. eyes remained avoidant of the other's gaze. " pump the brakes— " he interrupted. " too many questions... — start again. what do you wanna know? "
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"and where do you think you're going ?"
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