confusionism

[confusionism]

one perk of working as the assistant to a highly sought-after marketing agent? you always looked magazine-ready. today was no exception. even with the stupidity of this morning's argument, setareh was dressed to the nines, and the flood of stares in her direction were practically an expectation met perfectly. maybe this was what made her all the more of a crowd puller — confident in her strides and stoic in her expression — as she slipped onto the plush cushion across carter. "well... this place isn't cheap." she may have been a bit of a brat, sure, but even she wasn't so stupid as to be so wasteful. she tilted her chin up. "what's going on?"

WHO: carter collins. pawn shop clerk. heterosexual. 26-29. jack harlow fc. OPEN TO: f 21+ PLOT: our muses had a fight and carter sucks at apologizing so he planned a date instead

the longer he sat here, the more he was convinced that she wasn't going to show up. carter was sure he'd really lost her his time around and he couldn't help but beat himself up about it. that was, until she walked through the door. a small sigh of relief slipped past his lips as he saw her and he offered her a small, "i'm glad you made it."

#sz #blindspct #.hope this works!

[confusionism]

Keith Powers

#af*

[confusionism]

DREW RAY TANNER 

via Instagram Stories (05/07/2023)

#rp*

[confusionism]

god. if there was one thing aiden hated about being one of the older folks still in his undergraduate years, it was the fact that his peers were all sorts of high school dramatic. who knew that five or so years could make such a difference? he marched right between jess and this stranger, crossing his arms as he stood his ground. "it don't matter." he may have been lean in build, but he still towered over this stranger very easily. he crossed his arms. "—fuck's your problem? you've been on her back all week."

open to: m/f/nonbinary muse: chloe lee. 23. cis female. switch, sub leaning. bisexual. plot: chloe is a “bit” of a bully and just might be getting confronted by your muse (victim’s older sibling/parent/friend/etc)

“i hope you’ve actually got the ability to talk this time.” chloe started, already irritated with the fact that they’d showed up late to the meet up she’d demanded they attended. however, it seemed as though the attention she was wanting was not being granted to her. “hello? what are you deaf now, i’m talking to you. you KNOW i don’t like being ignored-.” the petite woman paused as the other approached, manicured eyebrows pulling together as she takes the other in. “who the fuck are you?”

#af #lovesvenom #.hope this is good!

[confusionism]

"Pleasure's all mine, Ms. Lane." It doesn't take long for his feigned seriousness to break. Rhys could never last with a silly joke, and he was never great with lying either. "Tell you the truth, I overheard you telling some folks about it. Don't worry, though. Even if I couldn't guess what you are, I'd still think you're real pretty." Rocking back and forth between his heels and the balls of his feet, he spoke with cool confidence, adding, "—Didja know that someone straight up called me Bruce Wayne earlier?" (@littlewrensx)

Olivia rolled her eyes to herself as the person had walked away. Maybe the costume choice had been boring. But she already owned these clothes, and she didn't want to go and buy a brand new costume for this party. It just seemed easy to throw together. Hearing her 'name', she turned towards a man clearly dressed like super man. "Mr. Kent. It's a pleasure to meet you." Shaking his hand, she smiled politely to him. "You're the first person that knows what I am tonight." @confusionism

#rp #littlewrensx #.no prob! lemme tag you just in case too lol

[confusionism]

A last-minute costume party invitation and an extremely limited wardrobe to select from— what was Rhys supposed to do? Fly, he decided, pulling out his trusty old suit and tucking in an old Superman shirt underneath it. With his top buttons undone, hair slicked up, and cheap, lensless 3D glasses newly polished, he strut around confidently, chatting with others easily. The only thing that could interrupt his vibe was a name that fell perfectly in-line with tonight's persona. "Lois Lane?" He ambled forward, adjusting his glasses and extending a hand out. "Clark Kent. Newest hire with the Daily Planet."

open: m/nb connection: strangers plot: The two of you wear costumes from the same fandom at a costume party. (your muse is dressed like superman)

Who has costume parties in the September? Her sister told her she was having a costume party now so she could be the cool one instead of doing it at Halloween. Olivia didn’t have the heart to tell her that the idea was actually lame. So here she was, dressed in a pencil skirt and a blouse. Everyone kept asking if she was just a business woman. “Lois Lane.” She corrected them for probably the tenth time that night.

#rp #littlewrensx #.hope this works!

[confusionism]

"Hey." Although it's a single word, it tumbles out far more severe than she intends to. Blame it on the nerves, how the number of incidents in their little camp have been rising day by day, and how their already-low numbers couldn't possibly sustain this trend for much longer. "You know me. You know I've checked under every rock on this side of the river, and I wouldn't come to you if I didn't think it was a thing." Despite the temperature rising on her neck, Ro willed herself to move closer, to lean forward and lower her voice. "Rumor goes that he was convinced these things could cure... You know. The bites. Most of the others laughed it off, but his tentmates've been saying he was serious about this." She shook her head, a bitterness landing on her tongue. "—Think that kid was trying to play doctor..."

"Jeremiah?" His mind was too full. All the worries and the stress and the lack of sleep caused his mental roster of survivors to be farther out of reach than normal. "Fuck, he's gone? You've checked everywhere?" The kid's face was familiar again, distinguished by that mop of curly blonde hair. Arjun stood and rubbed his eyes. "No, I can't say I remember anything about last night except Mrs. Peterson's festering wound." He didn't intend to take his anger out of Ro. The woman was someone he'd come to depend on. But desperate times. "We'll need search teams. Volunteers thought. Jeremiah is old enough to know it's dangerous out there – wait, what about mushrooms?"

#tm #grapefruitey

[confusionism]

Nolan's ears perked up at her agreement, a faint dusting of pink creeping up on his cheeks. His instinct pushed a, 'Really?' to the tip of his tongue, but in the interest of not looking as foolish as he probably had by this point, he swapped it down, then cleared his throat. "Nolan." And with that, he took his hand into hers and gave it a firm shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

With his invitation accounted for, he took the initiative in making his way to the seat directly across from Miranda, pulling it out, and settling on it. He ran his hands down his thighs, nodding once with a polite smile before speaking up again. "I, ah— I hope you don't mind my saying, but you look very lovely." There was no underlying intent behind his words, only an observation that he was certain was commonplace in her life.

She was invited to this place, she was supposed to have a blind date and no one ever showed up. Clearly she was going to murder her friends because of this, and she better not run into the fool who stood her up. "Ah..." now that she was famous, she didn't have any problem with those things, she just said her name and doors would open instantly, which was great, but also pulled her away from reality.

The question did surprise her, and she blinked slowly, trying to process this. "Oh... um..." she murmured and briefly looked at the entrance door, wondering if this asshole would mysteriously appear, but he didn't and she was already here, so she might as well go for it. "I... yeah, sure, why not?" She then added, forcing a slight smile. "I'm Miranda, by the way" she said, holding out her hand.

#na #spellbindingnights

[confusionism]

"Oh?" Nolan didn't mean the repetition as a form of mockery. Rather, it was surprise. With the way this woman carried herself, he was almost certain that she had been here before. Dare he even say that he wouldn't have been surprised to learn that she owned the place. "I have to hope that the food is good, what with how taxing the reservation process was."

Another laugh left him, then, kind of sheepish and accompanied with a palm-swipe across the back of his neck. He wasn't embarrassed over his lack of knowledge. Rather, it was nerves over how bold he might've come across as he nipped at one corner of his lips and then asked, "Are you, ahm— are you waiting for someone, then?" His next words drew out slower. "If not, then perhaps... Would you be interested in joining me?"

"Oh" Miranda said, finding it extremely strange that he would ask her for recommendations about the menu. Didn't his colleague make the suggestions? Or maybe he was trying to flirt with her... what a strange way of doing that. He was handsome, he had really nice eyes, he shouldn't have any problems with getting any girls - or boys, if he were into them.

She didn't know why, but she decided to humour him. "Well, it's my first time here as well, so I can't really tell if the food is good or not" she told him. "But I suppose that it depends on what you want to eat" she said simply.

#na #spellbindingnights

[confusionism]

#i* #na*ed

[confusionism]

"Well..." His voice trailed off, but the brief silence was broken with an amused little breath. "Both, I suppose. I apologize again—" shaking his head, he took another second to re-orient himself. Now that he had her full attention, he couldn't help but feel a slight burn at the tips of his ears. Goodness, was she beautiful. "—I meant, ahm— I meant the menu. I acquired a reservation on my colleagues' recommendation, but I honestly don't know where to start."

That was a bit of an understatement, given how half of the words were written in a language he wasn't fluent in. Nolan ran his bottom lip between his teeth. "—I ought to add, however: if you have any recommendations for the city, I'm all ears." When he smiled, it was only in earnest consideration. "No pressure to provide either, of course. I understand it must be off-putting and disorienting, receiving a barrage of questions from a complete stranger."

The poor guy had nothing to do with it, but she was upset and humiliated. No one had ever done this to her! It was horrible. Had she been in a better mood, she would've flirt with him, but she wasn't. Not only she was upset, but she was hurt... let alone her ego might be in the ICU right now.

But the man kept on talking and she looked back at him, not sure if she felt annoyed, guilty for snapping at him or both things. "Recommendations of what? The menu?" She asked, not sure what he meant. "Or you mean the city?" Now she had to add confused to the list of things she was feeling at the moment.

#na #spellbindingnights

[confusionism]

Nolan had half the mind to raise his palms in the air, a way of deflecting the attitude that had suddenly been thrown his way. Thankfully, he thought better of it. Firstly, this was not that kind of establishment. Secondly, there was a good chance that she hadn't heard him properly; his nerves had been running high all day, and even now, he could not help but feel nervous. Quiet. Unusual, for a man who was often encouraged to stop talking.

"My apologies." Decent start. He smoothed down the fabric of his coat before he holding one hand against his midsection. "I see nothing inherently wrong with anyone having a drink by themselves, but I, ah—" he's almost shy to admit, "—This is my first time here. I was wondering if perhaps you had any recommendations." If words had to be tacked on to his expression, they would be along the lines, of, 'I am quite sorry for impeding upon your space.'

Open to: males and females (+30 years old)

Rules || Banned

Miranda is a Victoria Secret Angel. She was set up for a blind date and the person never showed up. Your muse can be anyone that fits.

One would think that no one would stood up a model, well, tonight Miranda was proved wrong. Here she was, all dressed up and waiting like fucking idiot. She couldn’t believe this! They had the nerve! The audacity! Clearly no one was going to show up and she looked like an idiot just waiting.

What if the press found out? Oh God, she could never allow that, so she immediately ordered a martini, dry with an extra olive. It wasn’t until she took a small sip that she heard someone talking to her. “What? Can’t a woman have a drink by herself?” She wondered, of course she was lying, even if he knew that she had been stood up, Miranda was going to stick to her story.

#na #spellbindingnights #.hope this works!

[confusionism]

“We have a problem.” No shit. These days — every single one, over these last few months — ‘problems’ seemed to be the only thing anyone ever had. As such, Ro practically stomped into the office, begrudging the fact that she had to be in this sort of place at all, but even moreso being the bearer of more bad news. "Jeremiah's missing. I know the kid likes to go off on his own sometimes, but..." She crossed her arms and shook her head. "I got a bad feeling about this. You hear what he was saying last night? That weird shit about the mushrooms growing outside?"

open to all ; based off the crazies/walking dead/the strain (your choice), and set in an abandoned prison

Arjun was all but collapsed on the stool, his makeshift office a monument to the scientific method. He knew the method of transmission. He knew what the infection caused. The actual disease itself was unimportant at that point. What mattered was a cure or some sort of method of prevention. Without that, the human race was fucked. As the only doctor still alive within the group of survivors, the responsibility was an anvil on his shoulders. Not only was he expected to treat their common injuries and illnesses with no modern medical equipment or medicine, but he was meant to find all the answers that the small group demanded. At his breaking point, Arjun didn’t turn around when he heard someone enter. He just sighed loudly to convey his unhappiness. “What?”

#tm #grapefruitey #.hey pal! hope this is all right!

[confusionism]

#tm*

[confusionism]

persephonyed​

      there were worlds churning behind his eyes, thoughts deeper than what it took to deliberate which pastry you should buy today. and though the girl was tempted to inquire about the way his brows weighed his face down, and why he was so calculated, she refrained. and it was the smile he cast so effortlessly that kept her at bay.

“mhm,” she nodded enthusiastically, already putting together a complimentary goody bag for him, letting her hands wander amongst the treats and pick out ones that called to her for him. “oh no, lovely little cecil remembered it perfectly. and hopefully you do too.” but she instantly wanted to reach out and retrieve that last comment the moment lucien mentioned his wife.

                        “forgive me, i hadn’t realized you were married.”

“what kind of business does she run, and do you have a card? i’d love to check her out and support another businesswoman,” she attempted to smooth over what could’ve been an awkward comment, but moving on in the conversation was her blindly hopeful way to let is pass her by. “care to tell me a little more about her ailment? i’ll let you in on a secret — my goods aren’t just delicious to taste, but most contain ingredients to aide in other ways. i’ve even once served a man who had chronic pains in his knee so bad he could hardly walk, but i delivered him some raspberry tarts weekly for awhile, and he now he comes in and claims to be free of any ache at all. perhaps i’ve got something that could help your wife as well.”

lucien was content to lose his focus to the sight of every creation surrounding him, every scent of freshness and warmth that seemed to fill every inch of air. only for a moment. aylin’s words threw a small wrench into the middle of his thoughts. why was she apologizing? he tilted his head to one side before shaking it. one corner of his lips curled up, albeit very faintly.

“no apologies needed. i understand that i am the very last person that most would anticipate to be spoken for.” whether the stoicism was a strong byproduct of his condition or just the result of his personality was a question that had remained unanswered, despite the centuries. “—and i am honored to have met the individual who is responsible for such fine works as these.”

with the way that lucien gestured toward the foodstuffs, one would have thought he was in the middle of a gallery, as opposed to a simple bakeshop. there was, however... something inexplicably odd here.

perhaps it was just the chocolate.

damn that sweet tooth of his.

but perhaps it was something else. his brow raised at her curiosity. “you work with special ingredients?” how could he put this in a way that wasn’t so accusatory, that wasn’t outright nosy? he hummed. his next words drew out slower, as though he were also gauging aylin’s reactions to determine which direction to go. “my wife has had these... odd symptoms, since she was much younger.” three hundred years, to be more exact. “her body is quite cold—” a ‘side effect’ of death, “—yet she is terribly sensitive to the sun.” was that enough? he tacked on a gentle, “as delicious as your goods are, i’m uncertain that they would help her. she has a particularly strict diet.” he shook his head once more, and let out an amused little breath. “i appreciate your hospitality, but you may find my visit for more selfish reasons. i am the opposite; a very healthy eater with an outrageous appetite for sugar.”

#persephonyed #lb #lb;s #.no worries at all! #.these sorts of things are always ebb and flow

[confusionism]

@badiiidea

#i* #rp*cw #.snug bugs

[confusionism]

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#i* #rp*cw #.i see your beach babes and raise you