#krp starter

i just want to roleplay..

leave a trace and I’ll reach out to you to write.

one & two

as for the common “but no one in the indie rp tag writes with east asian muses!!!” excuse, those people are racist. dont interact with them. simple as that. you will find people who want to write with you as much as you want to write with them, i can assure you that. just use the indie rp tags if you want to promo or just follow people that your partners follow. it’s that easy. 

and if you use the krp tags while saying “but im not a krp” think about who you are going to get replies & follows from by putting those starters & promos in krp tags.... ur gonna get responses from krp blogs.... you’re in a never ending cycle that you can end. 

to; m/f/nb

plot; Joey got a little too drunk and after losing her purse and running out of battery on her phone, she tries to walk home and ends up running into your muse. Strangers/Friends/Exes accepted!

Ohhh this had been a bad idea. Oh god, this had been one of the worst ideas she’d ever had in her life. Who in their right mind went out drinking alone anyway? More specifically, who walked home alone after! It was a scary world! Full of scary people! And scarily strong alcohol!.. As her very unsteady feet were quickly proving. Hiccuping and letting out an alcohol-saturated breath, she groaned swiftly afterwards as the movement messed with her balance, her ankle twisting to the side and knocking her straight to the ground, phone, bag and all. Of course, that just pulled another groan out of her as she threw her head back in frustration, twisting on the cold ground for the sole reason of pouting down at the heels on her feet.  “Bad shoes!” She chided, wagging a disapproving finger at them and reaching with unsteady hands to try and unbuckle them - something that proved difficult in the darkness of the early morning hours and her somewhat foggy vision. And then there was a shadow cutting out the only light she had to work with, and she pouted deeper. “Hey, get out of my light! I almost had it.” Her words were slurred as she waved frantically at the figure now in front of her, “Move!” 

It was her wedding day. Well, not exactly her wedding day. There were about four more girls waiting in the same room until they were assigned to their spouse, chosen by the government and legally bonding the couple for life. There was a time where weddings were joyful days that celebrated the love between two persons; Naeun had seen the documentaries from a hundred years ago, when weddings meant white dresses and flowers and vows exchanged in front of the family and friends. 

It all changed gradually, the documentary explained, when society began to ask too much of people and most of them chose work over finding love. Eventually, upon witnessing the alarmingly low rate of weddings and, consequently, of births, the government stepped in and created a special minister where they would themselves match people based on the data they’d been gathering over the years. For the past fifty years, loveless weddings were “celebrated” and against all odds, it worked. Not only the birth rate had been on the rise, but most couples considered themselves to feel happy with their match and didn’t consider a divorce. 

And, at the age of 27 years old, it was now Naeun’s turn. She was two years late, but she had supposed that it was because the government had not found the “right” person to marry her off to. Needless to say that her uncle and aunt were more than delighted when they’d received the letter asking for the young woman to present herself at the wedding hall on this day: they wouldn’t have to take care of her anymore. She would not be a nuisance to them any longer. Her thoughts came to an abrupt stop when her name was called through the speakers. There was no turning back, now. Inhaling deeply, she stood up and headed towards the door where she would meet her match, her spouse. Whoever it was, she was pretty sure that they’d be better than the two people who had been raising her.