mystiicals

[mystiicals]

noirflavoured​:

 maika  has  never  desired  to  check  the  time  more  in  her  life  as  she  does  now.  the  sun  is  still  up  —  how  lucky  she  is  !  but  the  chocolate  of  her  hair  seems  to  be  melting  down.  her  small  carry-on  consists  of  a  thick  case  of  files  and  three  bottles  of  water.  two  of  them  are  empty  now.  dust-covered  silhouette  takes  every  step  extremely  careful  as  every  next  movement  may  cause  her  starving  posture  to  collapse.  she’s  been  living  off  of  a  croissant  per  day  for  the  past  months  but  a  runaway  adventure  appears  to  be  more  brutal.  she  leaves  her  bag  behind  as  the  farmhouse  does  not  seem  to  be  that  inviting.  but  what  worse  can  happen  to  me  ?  —  she  thinks  to  herself  as  the  bone-peeking  knee  bents  while  climing  onto  the  wooden  porch.  for  a  brief  moment   she  feels  like  a  moviestar.  a  quick  glance  behind  her  sun-kissed  back  to  make  sure  that  no  black-tied  man  follows  her.  and  as  she  raises  slender-fingered  hand  upward  the  door  opens.  she  remains  unbothered  ,  with  the  hand  still  visibly  lifted  upward.  “  actually  ,  yes.  ”  dry  aftertaste  in  her  mouth  deforms  spoken  sentence.  she  tries  to  clear  it  ,  mocking  something  that  should  be  taken  as  a  cough.  she  likes  his  shirt.  “  can  you  tell  me  what  the  time  is  ?  ”

she’s pretty, extremely so, but tomas is more focused on the state of her. dust-covered, skeletal ---- his conscience won’t let her leave without a bath and a hot meal. “i’ve got the time.” he answers, but doesn’t give it to her just yet. instead, he opens the door a little wider, into the cool shade of the house. “i know this sounds sketchy, but you look like you could really use a hot meal and a bath. would you like to come in? it’s just getting hotter out here.” he nods at the sky, already seeing heat waves emanating from the hot sun. he prefers his women fed and inside, than dead in his outer fields. he watches her tan face, judging her reaction. there’s something deeper in him ---- the lonely part, the one that’s been craving companionship ---- that needs her to stay. “it’s about one. now come in, i’ve still got leftovers from my lunch.” it was lucky for her to show up now ---- had she been fifteen minutes late, he would be in a far away field, hosing down crops. he admires how brave she is, standing on his porch like this was just another tuesday afternoon. the brunet watches her for a moment, wondering what she’ll decide in this moment. tomas tries to suppress the feelings surfacing at the thought of her needing him. he hadn’t felt needed in a long, long time. he turns and walks back into the house, motioning for her to follow him into the room, which happens to be the kitchen he was just eating at. “can i fix you a sandwich?” anything to distract his hands, eyes, and every other sense from the slender girl at his door.

#ahhhh yay! #this is perf thank you!! :) #noirflavoured #TOMAS / threads.

[mystiicals]

#wo. #brb making another gay muse

[mystiicals]

a brief flash of relief struck her at the other woman's reaction. she was not afraid ---- in fact, she seemed somewhat amused. shoulders lifted into a shrug sheepishly in response. now that she was out of the alehouse, she could see how stupidly dangerous her idea of a nighttime outing was. she nodded with a raised eyebrow at the vague answer. she had just barged in unannounced.

as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim new light of the candle, lysanne took in her surroundings, so different from her own. she tried to conceal her awe at the glinting, finely worked metals displayed around the room. this was nothing like the smithies of winterfell, where everything that touched the forge ended up heavily used. this was what she had really wanted in her adventure. to see what lay on the other side of the red keep, where no one acknowledged her without a curtsy and a nervous "m'lady" uttered afterwards. "it's beautiful work. i'd very much like to commission something, someday." if she could ever find her way back, that is. the words made lysanne's cheeks heat at the question. "i've got a dagger, but i'm more comfortable with a longer blade." she admitted, knowing she was wholly unprepared to actually defend herself. though, the streets outside seemed to remain quiet, which was a good sign. she focused back in on the other woman, taking advantage of the light to see who her savior was. "you have my thanks. you could have left me outside, but you didn't. i will remember this."

Eyes flickered at the movement to her hip, but the room was still fairly dim. Kyra couldn't quite make out much more than the gesture. She could light a candle or more if her 'guest' was not so obviously in pursuit. It was better to stay in the dark, if only for those few moments. "A few?" she repeated with a slight chuckle. Fantastic. One might have been manageable. Her father, while not one to practice temperance, had once provided the city watch his loyalty and arms. He taught her what he knew of a blade for times such as these. But by the sound of it if they did in fact catch up to their quarry help would be beyond her capability.

"Something of the sort," Yes. Yes she was and had been since her father's injury. He had been relieved of his post on the watch and his former dexterity. He had trouble swinging a hammer and his precision...feeling a slight ache in her chest at the thought of it, she pushed it away. To maintain their livelihood and his pride, Kyra did most of the work now. "My father does most of the fine work. I dabble though," she said, before caving and lighting a candle nearby. It was mostly spent and she doubted the small addition of light would draw much more attention. It would however give her a better look at the woman as she moved from around the counter. "The men at the ale house, I doubt they are slight in stature. Do you have something to protect yourself with? Aside from your deftness?"

#fillyoursoulxx #LYSANNE / threads.

[mystiicals]

why did this shit always happen to her? how many girlfriends had left her for the conventionally easy to date boy to please their family? she was being a little selfish ---- you can't come out to family you never had, so she never had to have a conversation like that . but she was hurt. and now she was being compared to a fucking seatbelt. that sort of quip would usually make mila laugh and roll her eyes, but not today. not with the situation at hand. the brunette sighed as she watched cara sit. she should ended it the moment mystery man entered the picture. it had been a year and change since they started dating. with this man taking HER girl on dates, mila couldn't deny that cara was not in charge of her love life ---- her parents were. being a secret was fun, at first. getting flown out, hurried makeout sessions in the back of ubers, and all the precious moments with cara. yet now, there was nothing she wanted more than to be visible. her comforting words were not so reassuring the fifteenth time around. "it is serious, cara." she replied in a low voice. "it was serious the moment your family decided you were to have a boyfriend." the final word stung as she said it ---- like a slap in the face to herself.

open starter: f / nb !

plot: cara comes from a family of wealth, and expectation. her family paired her with a     ‘ rightfully chosen ’ man who she has been dating for a few months now. meanwhile, your muse has been in a relationship with cara in secret for over a year. 

“ do you want to talk about it ? ”  whatever IT was had been a growing elephant in the room, one structured with tension. enough for the space around them to feel calloused and suffocating. “ you seem a little taut. you know, like when the seat belt refuses to let you breathe a little.”  she had taken a seat. fingers, pale and speckled with ginger colored spots had slid casually through her hair. cara knew very well what the subject matter would be about. the woman was too calculated to be oblivious. “ it’s no big deal. you know, it’s not serious. it’s not going to be serious.”  lips had been reassuring for a few months now. 

#ok i love this sm #hope she's ok!! #she's a test muse so i don't have much info up on her yet #but her name is mila and she's a nurse!!

[mystiicals]

tomas hates rainy days. in theory, they were great. an excuse to lounge around the house while the crops drink in the moisture. it’s so quiet and lonely, he ends up hoping for the promise of hard labor and hot sunlight to quiet his mind. as much as he likes to pretend he’s bothered by a disturbance, it’s at least breaking the silence that weighs heavy within the farmhouse walls. especially when the disturbance takes the form of a blonde, tanned bombshell that’s soaked to the bone. she must be freezing. he tries not to dwell on how the material of her shirt clings to her breasts, trying to keep a semblance of decorum. instead, he watches her closely, cold rainy air blowing against his stained flannel. "i don't own a phone." he's slightly embarrassed at the admission. as if she were a woman to impress, instead of a woman simply asking for help. "the least i can do for you is get you a change of clothes." he adds, gesturing inside. he couldn't bear to watch her shiver on his porch for a minute longer. he's racking his brain, trying to remember the last time he cleaned the bathroom. if only he'd known what the rain was to bring him. tomas nods towards the parlor, walking over to the small fire and stoking the flame, feeding some more wood to get the warmth to spread to the far corners of the room. he never used more than he needed to ---- but for her, it was almost too easy to make the exception. standing back up once he's happy with the fire, he grabs a fleece blanket from a corner basket and tosses it her way. "give me your keys, and i can park your car in my yard. unfortunately for you, our town mechanic steve will charge you up the ass, looking the way you do." he laughs before clearing his throat, catching his own cuss words too late. "i mean ---- he'll overcharge you. i'll see what i can do tomorrow morning." he puts his hand out expectantly.

𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙅𝙐𝙇𝙄𝙀𝙏 to have her car break down in the middle of nowhere on her mission to finally leave her old, lavish life in miami behind. what was supposed to be a five-hour road trip to the small town she’d found online last month had ended up being a lot longer when she saw a sign for a cute diner on her way there. after eating the best piece of lemon meringue pie at the said establishment, she took what she thought was a detour and ended up getting completely lost. her phone had no service which caused her to panic, but the icing on the cake came when it began to suddenly downpour. due to not being able to see a thing in front of her, the blonde found herself driving into a ditch and when she realized there was no way to get out of it, she decided that looking for some help would be her best bet. which is why she’s now completely soaked from head to toe, walking in the rain for a good twenty minutes when a farmhouse finally comes to view. thank god. she tries not to think about how this could be a mistake -- wasn’t there a horror movie that started this way? where a lost girl trying to find shelter ends up being murdered by a man with a chainsaw? juliet tries to push those thoughts aside though, especially since she was starting to get cold and knows that the sun was about to set soon. walking up the long driveway and onto the front porch, she’s just about to knock on the front door when it suddenly swings open, a man appearing in front of her. he was older. handsome. didn’t give off serial killer vibes but also didn’t seem to be a fan of her being on his property. ❝ hi! i’m so sorry to bother you...❞ she starts, rubbing her arms in an effort to warm herself up. ❝ my car broke down around twenty minutes from here and i don’t have any service. could i please use your phone to call for a tow truck? ❞

#omg thank u for knowing which one i was talking about skjhgdfkjgh #also no worries i apparently had a novel to write too fdkjghdkfjhg #i love her already thank u sm!!! #aconites #TOMAS / threads.

[mystiicals]

the blonde's words give margaret pause. it was a lonely life, to love women who only had eyes for men. she'd had her share of lovers, and heartbreaks, but they were long ago, memories stuffed in the halls of a forgotten castle. "that's what all ladies expect." she gives a shrug at that, gauging the girl's reaction to her true features. she was vulnerable, in this moment. even more so when aemma brushes a lock of her hair. "it's a little inconcievable, yes. you are the most breathtaking woman i've ever laid eyes on." how could she not prepare herself for the worst? she had gotten all of the affirmation she needed to reach over and pull the petite woman onto her lap. "this alone is repayment enough." though the heat pooling in her leathers indicates that is far from the truth. she leans forward, palcing her lips on the other's jaw, softly kissing as she takes in the other's scent, her hands pawing lazily at the fabric of her skirts.

"and who says i was expecting a gallant knight?" on the contrary, she's had enough male companionship in the past three years to last her a lifetime. it feels remarkably freeing to tag along with a woman other than the many handmaidens she's had in the past. she doesn't bat an eye when margaret finally removes her helmet, though she's quite pretty — pretty enough that aemma takes a minute to let it sink in before speaking again, pale fingers reaching up to brush over a strand of dark hair. "is it really so inconveivable that i may feel a kinship toward you exactly as you are?"

#lovstruck #MARGARET / threads.

[mystiicals]

a small breath escapes moira's lips in guise of laughter, amused at the blonde's expression of gratitude. the whole reason she'd begged her father to help her buy a club was for this exact reason ---- offering unlimited beverages to pretty women. "ah, you're a fan of preferential treatment then?" an eyebrow quirks, tone husky with implication. she rolls her eyes playfully at the constructive criticism. "well, for one, i'll be here." her words are bold, and the dainty hand that can't help but to travel up the other's thigh follows suit. "and next time, i'll make sure the vip floor is cleared out for us." once the image of lucy coming undone in a shadowy corner of her lounge was brought to mind, moira could not get it to leave. she squirms in place instead, watching the other's reaction as fingers draw abstract shapes on her upper thigh.

"—— you're serious? well, aren't you a doll." it's in her nature to be condescending, but she genuinely means it. there's no way to her heart quite like compliments and free merchandise, even if the latter starts to get dull when you rack up thousands of dollars' worth in free gifts over the span of a week. "i'd say the calibre of the clientele, but the preferential treatment i'm getting is quickly taking the lead." the overall demographic of the club is pleasing to her eye, which is rare, and the owner continues to set that bar high. it's why she takes the champagne glass from her without a second thought. "let's see— overpriced drinks, questionable music... it might take some convincing." she's lying - she already has plans to come back next saturday, but she's curious to see if she can get the other woman to sweat. "can you think of any incentives?"

#RIIIIIGHT #lovstruck #MOIRA / threads.

[mystiicals]

open to: f, nb (23+ for romance!) setting: i can't remember the link to this plot idea, but essentially tomas is a lonely farmer and your muse shows up at his doorstep. they can be a runaway, car broken down, whatever fits! note: made with beta editor! can switch to legacy upon request.

dark eyes watch the dust crop up the lengthy road up to the farmhouse. tomas could count on one hand the amount of times someone dropped by unannounced. he's weary of strangers ---- they all are, in a town that never exceeds a population of two hundred. he moves from the window, lest they see him. it's only a matter of minutes until he hears light footsteps on the porch he's been meaning to fix up. the door opens before she can even rap on the faded wood. his gaze travels up and down, assessing his stranger, face stony. she's prettier than any woman he's known ---- considering all the women he knows live within a 50 mile radius. he tries not to get too carried away with the figure in front of him, or how soft the skin underneath may feel against his calloused hands. instead, he tries to focus on why the hell a woman like this ended up on his doorstep. "can i help ya, ma'am?" he finally grunts.

#IM FINALLY BACK #also i have muse for a male?? it's been so long but we're exploring this #indie rp #open rp #indie kink rp

[mystiicals]

whyyyy do the tags forsake me so

#i've checked all my settings #i dont believe i have any flagged posts? #i haven't been showing up in the tags in 2 days :')

[mystiicals]

giana manages to keep her gaze steady, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as elora speaks. "not everything i say or do is about you, elora." the words are cold ---- as they always are, when they're delivered by giana. so she may have subtweeted elora, but that's the beauty of shade. plausible deniability. "my shoulders are getting awfully tired from carrying both of our careers. the least you could do is give them a rub." she sips from her glass, eyeing the other.

a closed starter for @mystiicals based on this post featuring elora.

"sweetheart, i hear you've been... what's the saying? throwing shade. i'm just completely... wounded." elora's musing comes with her typical dramatics; a pout and breathy tone as she lounges herself back into the plush of her couch. "however, my twitter mentions are up thirty percent this week, according to my publicist. whatever you're doing? keep doing it."

#lilacwiine #GIANA / threads.

[mystiicals]

she's breathtaking. of course she is, she's a tyrell. spring flows through her veins as surely as water flows through her own. helaena was always so put together. mellarie wanted nothing more than to see her unravel, and she was ready to use all of her tactics to achieve that purpose. the response makes mellarie smile, an eyebrow raising. just as she'd thought. they shared more than just similar upbringings. they seemed to share similar pleasures, as well. although helaena is extra careful to glance anywhere but the place mellarie wanted her to, she continues on with her games. a wave of her hands, and the servants scramble out, leaving the two ladies alone in the decorated chamber. "i feel as if we never get time alone, since the wedding preparations started." she laments like the petulant lady she is. truthfully, she's jealous of her brother, but that need not be said aloud. though the idea of the other helping her dress distracted her from her worries. "this corset was not properly laced. can you help me with this first?" lies, as the corset was exactly as she'd requested. a hand slips behind her back to unlace the silk ties, breasts threatening to spill over with the loosening of the restraints.

flowers sprung throughout the light blue garment, a daring cleavage intertwined with delicate jewelry, one of those a golden tiara perched upon red bright hair. helaena felt an antithesis of mellarie's reveling undergarment, a tight corset complimenting her breasts and soft skin. the tyrell fantasied dragging her plump lips against it, delicate kisses that'd entangle with love bits... enough. "hello, my dear, to what do i own the honor?" sister-in-law, it felt as a suiting title, one that perhaps halt all the elicited desire, althoguh a grin perching upon helaena's lips begged otherwise. "oh i'd prefer a lady without one" blue eyes wandered through the sheerness of her undergarments, yet refrained from laying upon the supple breasts. it felt as a dance, pushing each other's boundaries and self-control, yearning for touch. hel couldn't though, she was engaged to her brother, such betrayal would go against her house principles. "perhaps your ladies could excuse us... i'd love to dress you."

#lomawrites #aaaaaaa i love them sm!!! #MELLARIE / threads.

[mystiicals]

moira laughs along with poppy, an eyebrow raising. of course she was from out of town --- her doe eyes couldn't get enough of the dark club. she's happy that the other girl doesn't use her friend as an excuse to get out of their conversation. caught in her web for at least a while longer. as poppy turns the question back on her, she shrugs. "i was born in this city. my mother was an armenian immigrant." the sugar coated version. she didn't yet need to know that her mother was only brought over to her mob boss father's request. immigrant sounded a little more relatable. "i'm glad you're liking it." she grins again, setting her glass down on the table and focusing back in on poppy. "do you want to dance?" she asks suddenly. the leather couch is too formal ---- she wants to feel the other against her on the crowded floor.

"Is it that obvious?" she asks with a laugh as she lowers the glass, setting it in her lap to prevent herself from fidgeting further. "I'm not even from this state, just visiting. I came with a friend who would probably just die if she knew where I was right now." She cranes her neck, attempting to see over the crowd of people but it's too dense. Natalie would just have to remain below and have to hear the second-hand account when they got home. Not wanting to share her entirely pathetic life story — read: boring — she turns the question on her host. "What about you? You've surely had to have come from somewhere super cool to think of this place. It's just so ... cool." Her nose scrunches up as she takes another drink of the amber liquid. Moira just looked so cool and Poppy felt whatever the opposite of that was. "No, but really, Nat could not shut up about this place when I told her that I'd be coming out. So I guess that's a really good review? And it's certainly has lived up to what she's sad." Another tick, hopefully, in the right column.

#lunarrscribles #MOIRA / threads.

[mystiicals]

open to: f, nb setting: sam has been working overtime since inheriting her father’s diner, and accidentally ghosting your muse. based on the one episode of the bear that i watched. note: using beta, but can switch to legacy upon request!

losing her estranged father was one thing. learning about the mountain of debt he had gone in to keep his shitty little diner operational was a whole other can of worms. yet —- she couldn’t find it in her to leave. her brother’s pleas to sell the place fell on deaf ears. either way, sam thought, they would lose money from selling. she could at least use her culinary training to turn a tiny profit off of richie’s diner. so here she was, bent over a mop, trying to clean a floor that had twenty years’ worth of stains and working out where they could cut corners to pay the bills. she stopped as she heard the bell jingle over the front foor. “we’re closed. fortunately for you, you’ll have to find another diner.” lifting her eyes, she’s met with a familiar face, one she hadn’t seen in admittedly too long. “oh. hey.” she adds, eyes trailing back to the floor. it was embarrassing enough to be mopping a diner floor. it was even more embarrassing that she owned the place. she hadn’t actually told anyone this was what she was doing now, she just kind of disappeared off the face of the earth for a month. “uh, sorry i haven’t called.”

#in the mood for angst skdjhfkdjh #indie lesbian rp #indie open rp #indie rp #she's a test muse so lmk if u have any questions!

[mystiicals]

Random stuff that give war flashbacks to roleplayers:

OOC blogs

# ignore text

gradient themes

gossip blogs

'3 strikes'

chatzy events

450px wide gifs

starter dialogue on the title

ian somerhalder

#all of these gave me cold sweats #fucking CHATZY DHDJDJDJ #when ppl would take gossip blog drama personally djsjdjfjdj #ignore text i used to do that DHSJAJJ

[mystiicals]

someone give me a f/f boarding school plot with a sweet girl raised in a christian household but closet lesbian and the school bad girl and they get assigned to each other as roommates yES

#wp.

[mystiicals]

closed starter for @lomawrites

mellarie tully was nothing if not a planner. down to the second, she had carefully ensured that when she called for her brother's betrothed to speak to her in her chambers, that she'd be half-dressed, her servants tugging upon the beige corset. she looked up at the familiar sound of the door opening, to find her future sister in law watching her. the corset tightened around her torso once more, bringing soft, pale flesh forward, deepening the cleavage that was already there. "oh, hello dear. i was just finishing up with my ladies. the corset's on, the rest can wait. she beckoned her guest forward with an inviting smile, only too aware of the sheerness of her undergarments. she'd been carefully allowing the riverrun guest flashes of skin, but she was growing tired of the subtlety. "i love a good, tight corsage on myself. and my ladies. don't you?" she grinned at that, making sure to lean slightly. she was being unabashedly lewd, but she really couldn't help it.

#ahhhh i hope this is ok!! #lomawrites #MELLARIE / threads.

[mystiicals]

lysanne winced at the other's words. clearly, she was not welcome here. she squinted through the darkness, the room lit only by the warm glow of the fire in the forge. "you drive a hard bargain." she scoffed, hand instinctively going to the pouch at her hip ---- except it wasn't there. seven hells. her coin purse must have fallen during the pursuit. heart hammering in her chest, she would have to find another way to stay in her hiding spot for a while longer.

"i ---- may have made a few enemies out of the men who drink at the ale house down the road." she shrugged. this part of the story, at least, she could be truthful about. dark eyes lingered on the other, unable to keep her gaze from following her. "are you a blacksmith?" she asked lightly, finally letting her eyes trail over her surroundings. a stupid question, maybe, but as smart as she liked to think she was, she was still a sheltered lady, at the end of the day. anyway, she just needed to distract the woman enough to hope she would forget about their payment arrangement. lysanne would return with double the fare, if the woman would let her leave.

Concealed in the backroom, the forge still glowing, Kyra stilled her hand on the hilt of the dagger in her belt and listened as the silence of the shop shattered. It had been a quiet night before now and she had been tending to chores as her father slept peacefully in his room. Not that she was all that concerned for him. He had consumed more than half his usual drink and she had to guide him to bed yet again. So he was likely to sleep through whatever this intrusion was. The door jerked open and shut, that much she was sure of and what silence was left was replaced with rugged breathing, a kind she recognized quite well. Trouble. "You can apologize by leaving," she replied, stepping into the room the moment a voice rung out. The pitch was softer than she expected. Feminine. It did not sway her instinct, but sight of her-- lithe figure, dark hair, big brown eyes on top of that trouble? Well. Everyone had their weaknesses. That and the word 'pay' held just as much weight.

"Two coppers a minute and if whatever is chasing you darkens my door, you are on your own..." Her eyes did not leave the woman as she spoke and slipped behind the counter. Considering the bits of tools and weaponry scattered about, she was not particularly concerned about her safety. Simply cautious as leaned an elbow on the counter, her brow cocked. "What--or rather who are you hiding from exactly?"

#LYSANNE / threads. #fillyoursoulxx