apple red, i'll devour

semi-selective indie. est. 2026.

[encharmeds]

MAILA. 25+. EST. THEY/THEM. semi-selective indie blog. medium activity. ocs that reside currently somewhere between the horror and the mundane. let's vibe. GUIDELINES ⋆ MUSE LIST ⋆ OPEN STARTERS ⋆ OTHER LINKS TBD

[digitalbeachrave]

died and came back wrong and no one could tell the difference

[thefvrious]

olive's out to relax, to get a bit of peace of mind, but it only figures that she'd find a place inhabited by a presence that's demanding of attention. it's already told her to get the bartender to quit ignoring it several times, which is why she's staring at said bartender, or, er, gawking? "sorry." she says, shaking her head and tucking a strand of hair back, "i zoned out." not a total lie, but not the whole truth, either. "can i get a tequila sunrise? do you guys sell any food?" she knows she won't be able to stay long pretending to be aloof about the spirit in the room with them, but she can't just launch right into it either.

[encharmeds]

something about olive feels out of place in this grimy bar, like she's bright light against the murky palette of her surroundings. it's creating a juxtaposition that further places molly on alert, like she's about to receive some sort of sign by the spiritual snail mail. they nod a quick 'you're fine' with the sort of gruffness one picks up at these establishments. "sure. single or double?" that's a choice, but hey, what the hell. they're already reaching for a glass. the corner fizzes with the irritation of being ignored. molly continues to ignore it. "yes but i wouldn't recommend it. can give you some peanuts or chips, though. on the house." it's a poor attempt at a joke, these are complimentary, but she reaches under the counter and comes back with a couple of bags of both. "or i'd just tell you to get the mcdonalds down the street."

[vindicatcs]

he listens both quietly and intently , making sure to take in every word. this was important to him , and if this was the roadblock they had to get through , he wanted it to have this full attention. he only nods , listening until she's full down explaining. the last thing he wants to do is interrupt and be pushy about this. " i understand. " he responds gently , nodding his head. " but the what-ifs that scare you don't scare me. i do understand your concern and the idea that something could happen to you . . . " he almost shutters. losing people close to him was a terrifying thought , but he felt marin being self aware was a good first stop. " you're diligent , i assume. and prepared. you already have this in your mind to be careful of. right ? " he prompts , because he doesn't want to assume and be wrong. " i understand your work is dangerous but i trust you to do what you need to do while remaining safe. and if you'd let me , i'd love to support you behind the scenes. " he wanted this to be her choice at the end of the day. he smiles then , happy to hear how he makes her feel. he's confident this can work , no matter what she's worrying about. " then let me make you happy. you deserve you forget sometimes , marin. i know you're worry about it getting the best of you but don't you deserve some peace too ? a place to forget and relax and be happy. i want to be that for you. " his voice is quiet , almost pleading. " if you'll have me. "

[encharmeds]

all of this unchecked energy leaves her trembling. marin is someone who goes all or nothing, for everything she does, and even if recently that mostly meant her job, standing in front of emerson leads her to realize this isn't much different. she can't be giving him half of her and expecting arms' length is satisfactory. when has someone even cared so much for her the way em does? she can't recall. she's so used to being alone, to staying alone. "i am. i am very prepared-- you know me, my back ups have back ups," marin says, with a nod of certainty. this is not something she takes lightly, too many close calls as it is. as much as she wishes she could turn off her racing brain, some of these are founded on marin's experiences. she has had the worst case scenario. she softens under his gaze. "you're here. you're still here, after all of it," marin murmurs, and with every passing moment, it feels like her resolve is solidifying. not everything will have to end in heartache. her cheeks warm, her heart thumps in her chest. "if i'm shutting myself off from all of the bad stuff, i'm missing out on the good stuff, too." dark eyes are wide and longing as she studies him. "i shut myself off from that for so long." she never thinks she deserves it. "but... i want that. i want you. i want to handle it all... with you." a thumb traces across his cheekbone. "so, yes. i'll have you, emerson. for as long as we have and then some."

[909th]

if you fall from grace enough times eventually you’ll get really good at sticking the landing

[wearydrum]

Some people were immune to Abby's charms—but it was mainly his parents, his older brother, anyone stuck up enough that they forgot how to have fun or didn't know in the first place. How people went their entire lives with the means to use a yacht and snort cocaine off of women's naked bodies yet didn't do so Absalom really didn't know. What was so bad about that, anyway? His parents did worse, right-wingers that they were, although admittedly most of Absalom's protesting against them was selfish and personal instead of about all that stuff. He could care more, if he wasn't who he was, but Absalom seemed always restricted by being Absalom.

At least the water was good in Abby's drunken brain, and Molly was holding a joint to him like the miracle worker they were. He took his toke, rubbing his eyes after he exhaled, shifting to snuggle up against the couch and rest his head more comfortably as if he owned the place. Another side effect of being a rich prick. At least he oscillated between respectful and entitled, charming and brash. He could be entertaining, at least. That was Absalom's real skill. The ability to party. Harvard didn't need him. The fun-loving people of the world did.

"I'll pay for your weed any time, you know that," he said, letting himself melt as he passed the joint back. Some people were too prideful, adamantly against handouts. Money and fun were meant to be shared. At least Molly wasn't too stuck-up all the time to accept some good weed money once in a while.

"I can't visit a friend?" Absalom shot her another certified pleading look. Maybe he was a little manipulative. Admittedly, the couch to crash on was probably the first thing on his mind when he'd stumbled out of that club, but it was Molly's that he picked. As much as he would like to, he can't just trust anyone with his overly generous, exceedingly talkative self. His next words are punctuated with a little sigh. "I wanted to hang. And I'm 'too drunk to drive', whatever that means. I can leave, if you want. My phone's somewhere here, I'll order an Uber or something."

[encharmeds]

when molly lived at home, years and years ago, tragedies ago, they can remember the suffocating feeling it gave them. beyond the energy that emanated from the family business-- and there was a lot of energy--- it felt like the walls crept inwards, trying to keep her planted in this same awful town, dealing with the same awful things, until she met her maker. it makes her skin crawl even now, in the security of her own space, in control of her own life. she still wakes up in a cold sweat thinking she's in that house. for absalom, she can see where he is coming from, she can see why he so wholly fights against this conservative chokehold his family has. some people can escape, some people have to do what they can to. does it excuse his typical rich kid antics? perhaps not. but molly is the type of person to keep people in check, and abby is usually pretty good about not fighting back. it's a tightrope they walk, he pulls, she pushes, so on, so forth. that's kind of what their relationship consists of. molly hasn't gotten sick of him yet, which is massive feat in itself, so they soldier on. he's a good time when she wants one. it's easier to not look at all of the rough edges when they're in pursuit of that. "yeah, well, you better, you're gonna smoke me out of house," molly deadpans, smirking as her chin rests against her knees. you'd have to be a massive idiot to say no to that. in this economy? they'll take what they can get. they stare at him, wordlessly, as if eye contact alone will reveal to molly what he is thinking. the look doesn't work, her willpower is pretty good when it comes to this, don't let people know you give a shit. molly doesn't like to listen to the voice in their head. "don't leave. i want you here." she's not going to mince words. what's the point? plucking the joint from his fingers again, she brings it to her lips. "i had a fucking rough shift. i don't wanna be alone." it's easier to play it off as a general feeling, the specifics of her service job only dredge up the exhaustion. "so you can stay the night and save yourself a dui."

[encharmeds]

my keyboard is breaking down and my c, d + t buttons aren't working (i copied pasted all of them lmao) so if you see typos no you don't

[achillesinhighheels]

[divinetenebris]

fawn is smiling wider at the antics of flick. there was a good energy to them. something familiar, but also uneven. in an enjoyable way. "no, no. i ended up here myself. one of the towns i remember coming through when i was younger. knew it was relatively decent compared. and cheap. as glamorous as it would be to take off to new york city or something, i couldn't afford it." plus there was a good group of people at the cemetery that had welcomed in her with open arms. more or less. there's more laughter at the follow-up of shit talking her ex and with it was the solidifying that she liked flick. she was a shoe-in to be her friend from here. especially with the quickly added on shotgun joke. this one drew less of a laugh and more of a playful widening of fawn's eyes before rolling them. "fuck 'em, fuck 'em, fuck 'em. that means you get to pick the music. just make it something good," she re-gave flick her phone as she lead them over to the car. "and give me directions. i know my work and the cemetery i live at and this store and like two other places.

[encharmeds]

it has been told to flick that she is an acquired taste, one that people often never acquire, and to that, she normally replies with a long string of expletives and a hard, sharp snapping of her teeth; they're an animal backed into a corner. it always pisses her off when people dumb her down to what they think she is. it's refreshing that fawn does not immediately jump to that. "pft, oh, yeah, i get that," flick says, with a resigned huff. it's a big reason as to why she hasn't left yet-- they can dream of greener pastures all they want, but the means are and have not been there. "i don't think i remember a circus ever being in town." though, that doesn't mean much, flick doesn't remember plenty of stuff. gaps in her memory taunt her. when they need to come up for some levity, they picture it like a game show. what's behind door number one? extensive complex trauma! flick beams. "i only pick absolute bangers, so don't fea-- you live in a cemetery? what the shit? really? that's fuckin' metal. how does that even fuckin' happen?"

[wishwheel]

in contemplation of a sugar rush, naimeh's attention only wavers to see where their waiter is; he's thumbing through instagram, plainly over his shift. she decides, with a sort of catholic guilt over being a customer, not to bother him for a milkshake. another time, then. it's a sure thing they'll return to this booth, treating the diner like their personal clubhouse until they've sampled everything on the menu twice over. thrice, maybe, with how often leti's been naimeh's salvation and kept her from boring herself to bed. and then a hand's disrupting her train of thought — she half-startles, snapping her gaze back to leti with a light laugh at her impatience. "of course." a total lie, sung to the rhythm of how she springs up in her seat, at attention. "of course! me, very much listening. men, horny for you. you should start making them sign a waiver." naimeh nods, satisfied at her rapid-fire approximation of what was said, then drops the bit with a wide, teasing grin. "how'd i do?"

[encharmeds]

"oh, bitch," leti lets out a laugh, flourishing with a dramatic roll of her eyes and a disapproving click of her tongue. she can't hold it against naimeh, really. part of this ritual, for letitia, is letting all her thoughts out into the ether. when they're trapped behind the eyes, that's when the really bad decisions start. it's already been successful because she's sitting here with the other woman and not crawling into the bed of some loser, whoever that hypothetically might have been. when at her full force, people had a tendency to follow her around like puppy dogs. it hasn't even been a thought in her mind tonight, though, because most of it was spent looking forward to hanging out with her girl. and maybe partially the french fries. "first of all, not just men, everyone. once you know you have that power its easy to wield it. did you like the show tonight?" letitia isn't even sure what has caught naimeh's eye, but once the other has come back earthside, she spins her head around to where naimeh's gaze had been moments before. "what's so important that you aren't paying attention to your beautiful date?" teases the dancer. easy to deduce it's a search for their waiter. "you're lucky you're so cute, you know that? you can get away with so much more. want me to call him over?"

[encharmeds]

who?: molly dunleavy (she/they, 29) + open to all (21+)!

what + where?: molly's a burnout with slight medium abilities. it's the dive bar where molly works, late into a shift, and she's feeling it. y/m can be a new customer, a regular, molly's latest friend, fwb, etc. feel free to assume!

"are you going to order anything or just gawk?" molly had seen them sitting there for the better part of a half an hour. her other bartender had disappeared off somewhere else, she hasn't seen them in fifteen minutes, probably a smoke break-- they could use one of those soon. it's been a long night with no indication it's ending soon. there's a presence in the corner that they are pointedly ignoring, their eyes fixed on the customer ahead. "if you're looking for a menu, we don't have one. ain't that kind of place."

[encharmeds]

who?: marin moody + sienna taylor ( @divinetenebris )

where?: maybe trying to hide from paparazzi, a person marin is trailing, or something more sinister.

prompt: "something is watching us."

marin puts a finger to her lips, an indication that she knows, she has known. it has become a sixth sense in her profession, maybe one in sienna's, too. "behind me?" it comes out barely in a whisper, eyes darting quick to a door nearby them. "we should make a run for it."

[blockbustervideos]

Fairuza Balk As Nancy Downs In

THE CRAFT (1996)

[lvciddreamt]

open: anyone!

plot: inspo in src, basically just former classmates/unrequited love vibes??

muse: jack danforth, bio major and college athlete, major puppy dog energy

“i, uh…i had a really big crush on you.”

[encharmeds]

ruby stares at him for a second in disbelief, and then barks out a noise that isn't sure if it's a laugh, a gasp, a choke, or all of the above. she claps a hand tight over her mouth, cheeks reddening in complete embarrassment over her reaction. "no, i'm not lau-- what?" she manages after a long sip of her water. "you did?" how was she that oblivious? she's voraciously replaying the years' worth of memories with jack in search of the signs. "how? when? why?" and suddenly, she's been rendered monosyllabic; oh, pack it up, 20 questions.

[emziess]

Inde Navarrette as Nikki Freeman Obsession (2026) dir. Curry Barker

[lvciddreamt]

open: anyone!

plot: inspired by src, just secret fling vibes

muse: madelin rahbani, egocentric art school student. member of an extremely toxic blended family aka her villain origin story

“sometimes i honestly think you want to get caught.”

[encharmeds]

"isn't that part of the thrill, though? the ever looming what if? it makes my blood hot."

[warflowcr]

Talia had never really expressed any desires to get a tattoo before. While she always admired the art form, she just couldn't ever commit to something she wanted that badly. She hated the idea of regretting something that would be permanent. Or at least more expensive and painful to remove. The thought of the needles didn't exactly help either, no matter how tiny they were. But, despite all of that, Talia found herself at a tattoo shop. Finally ready to get a design that had been playing on her mind. She sweetly with a flash of nerves across her eyes, arms idly resting in her lap as she looked at the other. "I know it's not exactly original, but I was wanting maybe a flower? A dahlia. It was my mom's favourite flower. I still haven't decided where I want it. How much it hurts will probably decide that."

[encharmeds]

permanence has always been a big draw for edith. something tangible to look at, to feel, to use as a living, breathing scrapbook for memories and people. she used to panic about endings, the ending of books, the ending of relationships, the ending of her, her endless spirals that bled into existentialism. tattoos have been a remedy, a reminder. she's here! after all that, she's here, now. sure, having tattoos, it's not everybody's cup of tea, but edith was only looking for the kind of tea she liked anyways. "that's beautiful," she says, softly, smiling over at talia. "originality is subjective, anyways. nothing's original, we all do something for some reason. but it's yours." edith pats her arms and thighs, both heavily tattooed. "here, and here. anywhere where there's more fat and muscle. spots close to the bone will hurt more usually, or places with more nerve sensitivity."