Touch my muse! Touching is a quiet way of conveying your feelings, so tell me how you feel with your touch!
Top of head: Sibling affection/parental affection
Hair: Yearning
Ear: "I want you to hear me out."
Nose: "You're so cute."
Cheek: "I want to tell you I love you."/Deep affection/Devotion
Neck: Dislike/Hate/Disdain
Shoulder: Worry/Concern for other/Fear
Waist: Possessiveness/"You are mine."
Over the heart: "I love you."
Butt: Sexual attractiveness/lust
Hip: Interest
Back: Wanting to kill/will betray you one day
Stomach: Fun!/Silliness/"Wanna go cause some trouble?"
Forearm: Indifference/Don't particularly care for
Biceps: Aggravation/Irritation/"You are an idiot."
Fingers: Friendship/amicable
Wrist: Fear of losing you
Knee: "Don't worry, I'm here for you."
Chin: Beauty/attractiveness
Thigh: Sympathy/empathy
Calves: "I will cause you pain."
Feet: "I will serve you forever."/Deep devotion and and feelings of servitude/extreme fealty

aluox:

me

Ze final product!

For all my roleplay partners:

Never hold your muse back. For real. If your muse wants to lash out at mine, or kiss mine, or tell mine a horrible secret, or slam mine against a wall — go for it. Don’t ever feel like I’ll get your reply and judge you or your muse. 

(Source: claireveriearchive)

Draft number 2!

the-scarlet-witchie:

The recent, mellow months had been good to her. Her hair had grown out in short, soft curls and the bright bleached-blonde had been dyed back to her natural brown. The worry lines that had been so harshly etched into her face, seemed to nearly disappear as she had been smiling a lot more recently. Her long, muscular body had admittedly grown a little soft again, but she didn’t mind. This was the new Scarlett and she loved it.

However, to say that she didn’t miss her team or miss the crazy missions they used to take on would be a lie. Her four uniforms seemed to stare at her each time she’d open up her closet, just asking to be worn. Maybe she’d consider going solo someday, but for now, she was enjoying the downtime.

Plodding out onto the balcony of her apartment, the cool September breeze chilled her bare toes and stomach. Goosebumps formed on her arms as she folded them against the cold, metal railing. It was almost October and she hadn’t heard any sort of plans pop out of the woodwork. It was a bit of a relief considering her last couple of Halloweens. She couldn’t help but wonder though, what more was in store for her in the coming days?

If my muse was hypnotized and completely under your muse’s control, what would you do with them?

(Source: asktheprinceofdarkness)

Reblog this if your muse is still developing

(Source: coveted-noble-blue-soul)

My uncle is real-life, middle-aged Mephisto

Doing a survey. Reblog if you are a “Just Wing It” role player. No planning or plotting is needed. Nor permission to make a starter just for you.

(Source: spookywarmlight)