evphorium - Tumblr blog

[evphorium]

...why do people reach out to plot and then....don't?

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(please read my rules before interacting!)

ive got some time coming up and would love to set up some long term mumu plots on discord! prefer to write with people 25+ and i write both m and f muses

wanted plots:

rich kids who grew up together who have a lot of shared history

crime/mafia plots

apartment or workplace shenanigans

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" - of course," she grumbled, followed by a slow nod to herself. "Is there's some other place with a similar name? I'm supposed to meet this guy who said he's renting out some place above a hunting store?"

“Sorry— it’s not funny it’s just.. this is the only bar in town.”

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i just want a mumu with someone genuinely interested in some spoilt rich kids in their 20s with dumb rich people problems and love triangles and unrequited love and shenanigans

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Christopher Briney as Conrad Fisher The Summer I Turned Pretty S01E103 | “Summer Nights”

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this is a reminder that i literally do not care if you reply in five minutes, five months, five years.  still owe me something and want to start something new? go for it.  still owe me something and want to answer memes or send memes instead? go for it.  just not jiving with it and want to do something with a different character? go for it.  need to disappear into the wilderness and scream at the sky for a few years? no problem.  you take any and all the time you need.  this is a hobby, it is for fun, it should not ever cause you stress.  you do what you want to do when you want to do it.  i will never be mad bc you drop something or it takes a year for you to answer it.  this is a collaborative hobby that we do for enjoyment and if it isn’t fun, if it isn’t sparking joy, do something else. you take care of you.  

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I want - no, I need more long term, in depth ships. The kind of ships that I can’t stop thinking about. That have a real chokehold on you as an rper. Really thought out, headcanoned and plotted ships. Where we obsess over them endlessly. Go back and forth and stay up late just to read one or two more replies. Where you can get so attached to the characters involved that you can feel what they’re feeling, the good, the bad, the ugly. The kind of ships that really make the RP experience. The ones we can really develop, see grow over the months, have long angsty threads of, but also short fluffy or smutty ones as well. Or where we can post a random one liner just to mix things up here and there! Yeah, I need more ships like that. So please, like… message… send a carrier pigeon... doesn’t matter! Because as the great t.swif.t once said… it’s a need.

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The hand on her wrist is wrenched away, and her hand is easily taken from his, his grip not that strong. But then she delivers a push to his chest and that's surprising and he's not prepared. Ethan stumbles a little, catches his footing and then stands his ground. It makes him mad when she decides his own feelings for him because he does actually feel some sort of remorse and it angers him that she doesn't accept it. He doesn't apologise often, nevertheless sincerely, and he doesn't realise it but his face is starting to scrunch at her words.

"Don't pretend you know what I'm feeling," he shoots back at her, carding a hand through his hair, slicked back for the ball and mussing it up as he does. He feels like he's slowly inflating like a balloon, the bow tie too tight around his neck and he pulls and tugs at it until it's loosened. "Don't pretend you know if I'm sorry or not," he said, his words a little harsh but his anger is palpable. "And no, for your information, I'm not sorry because I got caught because I wasn't hiding anything, Becca, even if you think I am. I never promised you anything, I never made you feel like this was anything more than what it is," he insisted, thinking he was right. There was never any sort of commitment that he had ever offered her, and he was sure about that.

Her next words are a surprise and he stares at her, a little wide eyed and slack jawed. "You care about me?" He asked her, wanting to hear it again, but knowing he doesn't need to. "You don't think this is something you should have told me before you came with me here tonight? I never, fuck - this isn't - I told you from the beginning that this isn't anything, that I'm not looking for anything, didn't I make that clear?"

She was smarter than this, letting herself get used. In the same vein though Becca was innocent and so ready to care for someone. It surely was a trait that would put her in similar situations if she didn't guard herself better, close her heart off to others like her mother had tried to teach her. But that wasn't how Becca was, how she felt about the world. Even in the darkest or shittiest of people and places Becca searched for a goodness that wasn't there when others looked. She realized now what her mother had been trying to save her from, prepare her for; crying with hurt and anger hardening her heart as she tried to find her way out of a trap. Naive little prey. But even this little rabbit had sharp teeth and claws.

He didn't have to come after her and when Becca heard footsteps following after her everything in her hoped it wasn't Ethan. Her chest hurt from holding in her feelings and feeding on the ones of those who had watched her leave that crowded place. She was overwhelmed and those damn fucking tears wouldn't stop. Her face was red and surely her makeup was ruined as well while Becca wiped furiously at her cheeks before Ethan caught up to her and stopped her progression down the hallway by grabbing her wrist. Instinctually she turned, jerking her wrist out of his grip and doing what she should have done on that dance floor, shoved at his chest and not really pushing him away but herself.

"Just leave me alone, Ethan," she spat, face no longer soft and hurt but scrunched into something angry and battling to control her emotions. "You're not really fucking sorry! You're just sorry you got caught," anger burned her cheeks and ears and she knew her face was flush with it, her heart pounding in her chest. Becca made a noise, something of a bitter laugh but more an exhale of air, her shoulders slumping in a sort of defeat as she dropped her fierce and hurt gaze from his to look at the floor. "Yeah, because that's why I came here, why I did this, because I don't fucking care about you," she scoffed, head shaking, now she really couldn't look him in the eye anymore so she took a step backwards and fidgeted with her own hands just to keep them busy.

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The long sleeved shirt slipped up her forearm without her realising, the garment that had been covering the bruise in the shape of five fingers wrapped around her arm on display as she reached across the table. Rhea pulled her arm back, awkwardly pulling the sleeves down.

"It's nothing, I just tripped, no need to worry," she said cheerfully, lying, and unable to look him in the eye. She didn't want to tell him about the incident at the bar. It was an obvious lie, and she just hoped that he wouldn't ask too much.

Open to females: Your muse could be hiding something from Austin and he finds out just by sheer luck. Austin is in protective mode.

"Did somebody do this to you?" Austin questioned with a raised eyebrow, revealing her scars. Freshly new by the looks of it. And here he thought she was just a boring mundane.

Austin only met her a week and he started to care for her. She was silly, innocent and overall happy. A light to his darkness. He was visiting her and finds out about her injuries. Something he was both curious and alarmed about.

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give me a plot where muse a is a celebrity tired of the drama, paparazzi, fake friends, and parties, so she packs her designer dresses and handbags up and flees to her grandfather’s ranch. she meets muse b, a dashing, charming cowboy, who lives on the ranch to help her grandfather out. he doesn’t know who she is, and she adores that. give me muse a wearing high heels to the horse stables, and muse b laughing at her when she sinks in the mud. give me muse b teaching her how to ride a horse at sunset. give me muse b giving muse a his cowboy hat at a bonfire. i want small town vibes! muse a isn’t a celebrity here, everyone only knows her as muse b’s little girlfriend! please! 

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・ drew starkey as rafe cameron in outer banks , season 2 .

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closed for @wildhcrses

" - oh good, you're here," she's flustered and feels hot beneath the collar. This feels like she's doing something wrong, and there's some sort of shame associated with the whole idea. Paying for a date feels like she's committing some sort of crime, but she knows it's not. It's just a date to a wedding. A wedding her ex boyfriend happens to be the best man for. A wedding that happens to be for her cousin Henry. A wedding that happens to be an occasion where she wants to prove once and for all that she's both happy and incredibly desirable. So somehow that makes it okay she's paid a stranger to pretend to be her date. Mandy corrects herself; technically he is not a stranger. A man she sees all the time at the coffee shop and the gym isn't a stranger.

"Thanks so much for doing this," she says all in a nervous rush so she's not even sure he's heard her properly. She's dressed, in a fitted red dress, that she hopes will draw attention, but not enough that it'll draw the wrath of the bride. "You look nice," she finally looks up, and properly looks at him. "Really nice."

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Happily thinking that his neighbour had a pretty decent taste in music, Tommy was still bopping along to the last song, an ABBA classic that started in his shoulders and ended with him belting the chorus to match the volume of his neighbour's music. He didn't think much of it until the song began to wrap up and as it dwindled, he could hear someone banging on the door. Whoops, he thought, jogging to the door merrily, swinging it open. "Hey, sorry," a light embarrassed chuckle. "My neighbour has the best taste in music, can't help singing along," he grinned, aware that the irritated woman before him was in fact the one and the same neighb9ur. "You should tell 'em not to play absolute fucking bangers," he nodded at the door next to him.

open to: anyone (no taboo) plot: The walls are paper thin and you’re always singing in the shower, and honestly you’re terrible but idk how to tell you, so I’ve just started to play music over you but you seem to know every song and it only makes you sing louder??

it didn't seem to matter which song she put on, the grating voice of her neighbor still rang through, piercing through the actual song and straight to her ears. this had been her last idea to keep herself sane - try to mess with them as much as they were messing with her (even if unknowingly). giving up, she marched down the hallway, banging on the door to her neighbor's apartment, "hey! hey you! have some consideration for your neighbors, why don't you?"

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"And this wasn't something you could have figured out before..?" she trailed off, not wanting to add in what she really wanted to say.

Muse: OCTAVIAN "TAVVY" HERMAN. Theater Actor. Open to: F. Ok to assume any connection. No Taboo.

❛ I can't do this right now. I need more time to think about what I want. ❜

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"...in...cahoots..." he repeated the words back to her like they were a foreign language, like she was being ridiculous which he felt like she was. Ryan sighed wearily, and leaned in a little. "Look, clearly you know why this has been set up, right? Or you do and you just don't give a shit."

open to. m/nb. muse. sam wyatt, socialite. plot. she's in desperate need of good pr, so she was set up with your muse. a month in and he's either still being paid or actually dating her because he wants to — either way she still believes/is under the impression it's the former.

"if my daddy is paying you a shit ton of money to show me a good time, the least you can do is just that." the blonde angrily took a sip of her wine, "you two wanna act like you're not in cahoots with this nonsense of a fake relationship." she muttered, eyes dancing from the rim of her glass off to the side to avoid eye contact.

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Okay but I want a plot based around an arranged Hollywood marriage. Muse A is some sweet, naive no name actor who is plucked from obscurity to marry Muse B who is a big Hollywood A lister to help rebuild their tarnished reputation. Muse B is kind of an asshole but Muse A signed a contract and can’t get out so they have to put up with Muse B’s antics and try to help clean up their act. Along the way Muse A sees the underneath Muse B’s issues, they’re actually not a bad person and Muse A starts to fall for them. 

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His face didn't feel as bad as his ego, to be honest. Even showing up at her house was a blow to his ego, but Vasili had nowhere else to go that wouldn't ask questions. And could patch up his scratches without kicking up too much of a fuss. "I didn't run my mouth this time," he smirked though. She knew him so well. "I was hoping there's still some friendly feelings you may still have for me to exploit," he explained and then another smirk. "And turns out I was right." He winced when she dabbed at a particularly painful cut across his brow, but truthfully he cared more about the pain in his side. "Shit. I think I broke a rib."

open to: m

Chloe wasn’t sure if it was super late or very early when he showed up at her door covered in cuts and bruises. Seeing him through the peephole like that was such a scare that she opened the door right away, forgetting she was still in her normal sleep clothes: an oversized t-shirt and panties. It was a shock if she was being honest, it had been over a year since their relationship had ended. She had been completely heartbroken by the whole ordeal but now, here she was with him sitting in her bathroom and her cleaning his cuts.

Dabbing at a cut on his cheek she decided to break the heavy silence, “You gotta get better at keeping your mouth shut sometimes.”