Ofblcssxms​:

Hello there, this is just a little pinned post. my name is tabby. I am 25 years old; I use she/her pronouns and have been roleplaying for over 10 years. I am in the gmt time zone. I play both males and females. My blog is a multi-muse and multi-verse blog. Please try to interact with both my males and females. I’m really friendly, so if you want to plot, please hit me up.

muses | open starters |  wanted plots

I'm still here, and I will do my replies soon -- just having some quiet time as I'm not feeling great atm

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.

Hayden's jaw tightens, the weight of her words hitting like a punch to the gut. His chest aches at the sight of her—so raw, so heartbreakingly certain of something he never meant for her to feel.

"Tilly—" His voice is rough, thick with emotion he barely knows how to contain. He steps forward, hesitant, as if afraid she'll slip right through his fingers. "That’s not true."

He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "You don't actually think that, do you?" His eyes search hers, desperate for her to see the truth, to feel it the way he does. "I just don’t know how to love you the way you deserve. But don’t you dare think for a second that I don’t love you enough."

open to m / nb .

synopsis — matilda ' tilly ' zhang . the ultimate lover girl forever stuck in her day dreams . her heart is her biggest blessing & heaviest curse , falling in love fast & never truly falling out of it . your muse & tilly have been together for a while , & she's been burdened with the idea & insecurity that his feelings aren't equal to hers . so when a fight breaks out between the pair , she finally finds the courage to address it .

tilly's attempts of calming her breathing are weak , shaky inhale the only thing keeping tears from flooding over the brim of heartsick doe eyes . ' let's face it — . . ' she begins , ' i have always loved you more than you've ever loved me . ' hearing her insecurities spoken aloud is enough to commence the cascade of tears .

Kai let out a low whistle, slow and mocking, as he watched her order her drink. Whiskey. Cute. Like she was trying to prove a point.

"Relax, Pia," he drawled, stretching out the name he heard her friend use as if it amused him. "I never said you had to bat your lashes at me. Trust me, sweetheart, my ego doesn't hinge on validation from girls who hate that they’re intrigued." He smirked, tapping his fingers idly against the counter.

He shifted slightly, watching her with that lazy, knowing look, like he’d already figured her out. "And yeah, I make assumptions. It’s called reading people. You walked in here already hating me, princess, so let’s not pretend this is a one-way street. I think you'll find you were the one who began with the stereotypes" He cocked his head, eyes flicking to her drink. "Whiskey, huh? Daddy’s favorite. Real original."

He leaned in just a fraction, voice dropping into something low and dry. "But hey, don't worry. I'm sure ordering the strongest thing on the menu totally proves you can ‘handle’ me." He smirked, taking a slow sip of his own drink. "Really shattering stereotypes tonight, huh?"

"i'm sorry did you want me to come in here all googly eyed for you? because that's clearly something your used to. just because girls tend to favour the bad boy i have abandonment issues card doesn't mean i'm gunna be fluttering my lashes at you. not to mention i've been here.. five minutes and you have already made countless assumptions about me when i have barely breathed a word about you, so who really is uptight here? got nothing better to do than to insult girls for kicks? 50% split on whether they can handle your sarcasm or they'll crumble but news flash.. but i am bothered by you. other than your ultimately charming conversational skills." she shifted to gaze away from him, looking around as the bartender stopped infront of her and she ordered a whisky. something she loved the taste of because her dad drank it so much it was a wholesome thing really for her. and probably the less likely option for the male next to her to make a snarky comment.

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

amoonlitmemory​:

Closed starter for @littledaydreamers​

“I’m sorry–” Niamh glanced down at the parchement unsure of what she was supposed to be looking at. “Are you sure this is meant for me? I– I don’t know what this is.” Having been self taught, she would never admit that when it came to reading her knowledge was only that of which she appeared familiar with. Yes, she could read words but that didn’t always mean she had a clear understanding of what things meant.

Tristan nodded affirmatively, a subtle gesture accompanied by a satisfying "Yep," the soft sound of the "p" popping. "Well," he continued, his voice filled with a hint of curiosity, "that's what it seems to be—a letter. If you'd like, I could read it aloud for you. The lighting in this room leaves much to be desired, but fortunately, I possess exceptional vision." With a compassionate gaze, he observed the writing before him, sensing the air of perplexity surrounding it. While illiteracy wasn't uncommon among the inhabitants of Nassau, Tristan understood the reluctance of many to acknowledge this fact openly.

A gentle voice cut through the darkness, but Robbie was too distressed to hear the man's words. He clutched his head in his trembling hands, sobbing as he rocked back and forth. "They're dead. They're all dead." He whispered, his voice a broken echo.

The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the space, casting a warm and comforting light. Robbie felt the bed dip as the male took a seat next to him, trying to calm him. With the man's soothing words and gentle touch, Robbie finally met his gaze. "They're all dead. I watched them die, one by one." He repeated, his voice strangled.

thomas barrow made a habit of being a self-centered man, he wouldn't deny it. he had learnt, from a young age, that if there was no one else to look out for him then he could only trust himself. his reasons for volunteering as a medic had been, in part, selfish ones. his medical training had spared him active military service for the first few months of the war, and he had believed, as everyone else had, that the whole thing would blow over quickly. he would have left the army with newfound status and a possible change in profession. that was the plan at least... how naive that young man had been.

the war had changed him, changed everything — the footman turned medic, now managing the makeshift convalescent home that had taken over downton, working alongside members of the very family that he used to serve. he was no longer at the front, but thomas had seen firsthand the horrors that these men had returned from. he knew the destruction, the death, the pain and suffering, the desperation. he felt a duty of care; underneath that egocentric, individualistic mindset, thomas barrow cared about the poor souls. if he could ease their plight in any way, he was glad to.

a shout drew the lance corporal's attention — night terrors were becoming increasingly more common in the soldiers that passed through his care... depression, shell shock, post-traumatic stress disorder, was it truly any wonder when they had been through hell and back?

❝ hey now, easy there. you're alright, sir. ❞ he started, coming to the soldier's bedside as he jolted awake. speaking in gentle, hushed tones, a hand rested on the man's good shoulder, thumb rubbing in soothing circles as thomas tried to meet his gaze. in the soft lamplight, sharp grey hues searched the soldier's own slightly vacant stare, as the medic continued — with a string of comforting words and a grounding touch, he tried to bring the other out of whatever nightmare plagued his mind.

❝ you're alright, just breath for me, nice and slowly, sir, that's it. you're safe. ❞

"What? James, I haven't been with anyone." Violet argued back surprised by his reaction. "Come on, you know I was at work."

open to: f (mutuals only)

muse: James Junior Rennie, 21-28, cis male, straight

cw for: toxic relationship, extremely obsessive and possessive behavior

"You taste like cigarettes." He pulled away, breaking the kiss, his face contorted in disgust. "Who have you been with?" James demanded, glaring.

Closed Starter for @bloodbared

In the dim confines of their new home, Jude huddled on the floor behind the bed in the oppressive silence that had filled the house all night. She still couldn't believe her father had forced this union on her. All her life, she'd strived to avoid him and his business, his violent lifestyle a constant shadow she desperately wanted to outrun. But somehow, she'd been dragged back into it.

She'd met Z a few times, enough to know their differences were as vast as the ocean, their mutual dislike a palpable tension in the air. The awkwardness of their first night together in the same house was a suffocating blanket, the weight of her father’s expectations pressing down on her like a physical force.  Jude wondered how long she could hide out in the bedroom from him before he'd attempt to look for her.