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Looking for long term, FxM, detailed, multi-para.

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Danica

Meteorite
Joined
Jun 29, 2015
Location
U.S.A.
I've been writing for well over 10 years, text based role playing for about all of those years. I enjoy writing, and I enjoy collaborative writing. So naturally here I am.

I have a few rules, because of course, not everything is sunshine and roses.

1. I write multiple paragraphs. I like details and explanations and clear understanding. Naturally you can't get all of those things in a couple lines, or even one paragraph most of the time. During close dialogue it's understandable for shorter posts, I don't like a lot of unnecessary fluff either.

2. I use pictures. Most of the time I find an actress/actor, model or something to use. It could be immediately, or even months into the RP before I find the right thing. This is not building my character around a picture, but it's finding the perfect person or art to capture the idea formed in my mind. If this bothers you, please leave now.

3. I involve sexual dynamic or romance in most all of my plots. It could be completely revolved around a sexual dynamic, or it could just use it to highlight the excitement and adventure and create a lot of lovely sexual tension. Smut is not something I really like out of context. So I would prefer if you are just looking for masturbatory material, please go elsewhere.

4. I am a 20-something female in real life. I work, I have children. I have a whole world outside of this computer, and as much as I would love to spend all my time writing, sometimes things come up and it might take me a bit to get back into the swing of things. I will always reply to posts, and I will always alert someone if I'm going to be distracted or away from doing so for any period of time. So I appreciate the same in return. I do work from home and I usually do have quite a bit of writing time, and I love the quick thinking and responses of immediate play. That's always something I prize if someone has the time for that. If not, that's fine too.

5. I love YIM. I have been using it for discussing with partners and RP for pretty much as long as I've been playing. It's what I prefer to use at least to flesh out ideas. The actual writing could be over YIM or Googledocs, or E-mail. Hangouts I could also be persuaded to use for chatting and have done so to find it works out okay. If you have another suggestion I'm more than willing to hear you out, but I don't particularly like using PM's for chatting, takes too long for me.

6. Quite frankly, I am just tired of having to prove my worth to people, acting as if I have no idea what I'm doing here. I have been writing a long time, I have had several partners over the years. I am constantly willing to improve. I take comments and criticisms seriously and without ego. I am not the best writer, I'll probably never be even one of the greats, but I enjoy it, no one has ever complained after writing with me, and the whole point of RP is to have FUN. That's it. I'm here to write for fun, and if I end up with a sensitive, intelligent partner who's style meshes with my own and we can learn and grow together into better writers, then that's a partner I'm going to appreciate and strive to impress and continue with.

7. Last, but not least! Ideas are my lifeblood. I always have some idea, craving, thought, suggestion to get the juices flowing. That being said, I absolutely love for someone to be the exact same. If you have an idea or something you've been itching to try and hash out. Even if it isn't complete or doesn't altogether make sense yet, throw it at me! I'd love to hear it and I'd love to help brainstorm out the possibilities. I don't particularly like to have every single detail and design laid out before hand. A plot idea or some secret twist that will be added to the climax of the story is always fun to plan out, but most of the time I can pick up or lay down a good starting idea and just run with it! Ask questions, communicate, participate as we go along and I'll be 'happy as a tick on a fat dog'.



The following are some writing samples as well as a few plot ideas from the top of my head to get the ball rolling.



Hannah Morgan
The flight was nothing short of exhilarating. Hannah Morgan had never been on a plane before. What the other passengers found monotonous, she found fascinating. She was sure that into the seven hour flight from Birmingham she would lose interest. She hadn’t. She soaked in the picturesque landscape below. Like a patchwork quilt that her grandma would lay across her lap at the edge of the living room sofa and stitch with infinite care. Rising of hills, dips of valleys, and mountain ranges like a giant zen garden that had been raked too deep. The cotton candy clouds drifting by in wisps of white that she was sure, if she could just reach to touch them, they would feel as soft as they looked.
The further into the flight, the shift of the worlds color would change. What once was lush and green was now dotted with shades of brown. Tans and burnt sienna. She reveled in the change. And in her own change. The fluttering in her stomach, renewed hope alive once more in her hopeful frame. A new life of her very own. The people packed in around her slept, or read, or lost themselves within the sides of over-sized headphones as she stared out her window and dreamed.
The decent had her nearly bursting from her seat. Which made her all the more impatient in the midst of all the waiting. And waiting.
Jennifer Morgan picked up her glowing little sister, quite literally, as she grabbed her in a hug of time long lost. It had been years since she felt the weight of her sisters arms around her. It was a welcome relief from the crowded airport, her stressful job, and the intruding stares of strangers. She could only imagine the sight they made. Looking nearly twins. Long legged, natural blondes with bright blue eyes and hourglass frames. There were obvious differences. But not at first glance of course.
“Have a good flight?” They moved through the airport and out to a waiting car lost in conversation. How’s mom and dad, Grandma and Grandpa. Who’s married, who’s divorced, who got arrested. Small town talk that Jennifer always hated, but really did miss.
Hannah was still lost in rapture of her surroundings the whole drive. Nothing could dampen her spirits. All her hard work, her arguments with her parents, every bit of it was finally becoming reality. Her carry on satchel clutched tightly in her lap, they pulled into a two story villa that nearly stopped her breath. Pictures didn’t do the house justice. Actually, she thought it might be more glass than house. Sharp angles and overreaching balconies over a central pool. It was.. Heaven.

Zoe September
Winter in Georgia was so different from winter everywhere else. It was a roll of the dice. Could be eighty degrees and humid as all get out, could be snowing. Setting your watch to the weather in Georgia was setting it to shuffle. There were few things Zoe September hated about Georgia. Winter was one of them. But there at the top of that list was.. Atlanta. Jesus Christ. If the world had a black hole, this was it. Every time she visited the city she was certain it had gotten worse. And since her discovery at a nearby coven, a lead on the Brothers, she had been in Atlanta more than she even cared to acknowledge.

The Club she found herself in, deep into the eve of a Saturday night, no less, made her want to punch someone just on principle. It made her feel like she was stepping into a glow in the dark puzzle box. What is it with clubs and blacklights? Was it that important you not see anyone in the bright light of a fluorescent? Sure, it was incredibly unflattering in dressing rooms. But surely they could at least put a couple ambient lights in here so everyone didn’t look like glow sticks? What kind of name was CosmoLava. She should have guessed from the name it would be a nightmare. Give her a room full of blood sucking villains any day of the week. Speaking of, she was armed to the teeth. Luckily tonight was one of those comfortably cold ones, where the temperature was just low enough for a jacket, but not to brisk to freeze your nose when you walked outside. The heat inside the club was discouraging, however, because she really didn’t want to have to take off her jacket and scare all the co-eds. Poor little dears might have a heart attack.

She was smiling at her own joke as she approached the closest bar. There were four different bars in this god forsaken place. It was crowded with too many bodies, she had to push past most of them with far too much contact to be comfortable with. She had good harnesses and sheaths, but someone paying close enough attention might be able to pick out the feel of weapons beneath the leather jacket by some really strange bulges in all the wrong places. Apparently they didn’t notice, because she was propositioned at least five or six times before she even reached the edge of the bar. The bartender was a busty blonde and barely gave Zoe a second glance. Bitch. She was given a contact name. That little guy at the coven in Jacksonville broke like a cheap rubber band. A shame. Supposedly a bartender name Kelli.. Zoe was willing to bet her .45 that this little bitch was Kelli.

Abigail Connor
Breathe...
That was about the hundredth time Abigail Conner had reminded herself. For some reason she kept forgetting. No. Not some reason, she was all too aware of that reason. Months and months of meetings and lunches and making friends and connections, all leading to this one night. All her time and work had finally paid off, and now that it was upon her, she was ready to just scream in sheer excitement and apprehension.
The eyes in the mirror stared back at her, they were green, the same deep jade as her grandmother before her. Her eyes weren't the only thing she'd gotten from her, pale milky cream skin, and deep strawberry blonde hair, all hinting at the Irish ancestry that her grandmother always spoke of with such pride. She wasn't exactly a carbon copy of her mother's side, no, the texture of her hair, straight and fine, had come from her father's side. So had the body type that she hated so much. Short and fat, she always said. To be fair, she was average height, taller than her short, thin, ballerina-like mother. She stopped being able to wear her mothers clothes in middle school. She had a hourglass figure, perhaps her fathers ancestors had been warriors, vikings, or Norse gods. All the women needing rich voluptuous child bearing hips and heavy baby nursing breasts. At least, that's the story Abigail told herself to make herself feel better, being a mother was the only thing she had ever been great at in her life.
But tonight, she didn't look like a mother. The dark green and gold trimmed corset went perfect with her coloring and pulled in her stomach and pushed up all that boob in a way that made them look huge, overflowing. The silk mini skirt, in matching colors, stretched across her full ass and didn't fall much below it. She had to simply hope she didn't drop anything, because picking it up.. well, that would be a show. She'd had to have the outfit tailored, she'd never had anything tailored in her life, and still didn't see the appeal, she'd still had to squeeze into the clothes and felt like she was forcing finger cuffs over a tube of toothpaste. And the effect looked about the same to her too. The thought of going anywhere with every curve on display, and every jiggle of her boobs and ass and too-big thighs open for judgment nearly caused her to hide under her bed like her 4 year old.

"Abby!" The high pitched shrill sound almost made her wince, a year ago she had winced, but she was slowly but surely growing accustomed to her new friend. Beth Montgomery stood in the doorway to the bedroom, glaring at her behind glasses that managed to somehow enhance the cornflower blue of her eyes. Beth was beautiful, with short stylish blonde hair framing a tanned face, she had the tall willowy body of a supermodel. One of those "90 pounds soaking wet" kind of women that Abigail was eternally envious of. Beth got it honest, at least, she wasn't a bit afraid of food, and constantly ate everything in sight like she'd never see food again. Those blue eyes looked Abigail down and back up again and her frown turned into a grin showing perfectly straight white teeth. "Whoa. Look at your boobs!" Beth grabbed her own chest, which didn't even fill her small hands and frowned down like her glare alone could will the breasts to grow. Abigail thought Beth looked amazing, the sheer shimmery fabric of her dress shifted around her little frame, the neckline cut down almost to her damn bellybutton, offering glimpses of her perky ladies and flat taunt middle, the dress was scandalously short, about the same as Abby's own, and showed off her long tanned legs. She had that kind of frame that left a space between her thighs, another thing Abby envied. But from the look in Beth's eyes, she was equally envious of Abby's thick curves.
"You look amazing." Abigail bugged her eyes a bit for emphasis on her words, and both of their envy turned into a shared understanding. And laughter. Why did women hate their bodies? That grass is always greener scenario that lead to so much loss of self confidence. Tonight was all about confidence, and fun. So Abigail straightened her shoulders and put a little roll of her hips in her step as she grabbed her long jacket, and Beth grabbed her and pulled her out the door and down the long hallway through her apartment complex.

"Write"
Write me a symphony of words, scrawled across torn yellowed parchment.
Make it a love song, that my heart can beat with.
Burn something beautiful into my cynical mind.
Leave me wanting to burrow into your arms and touch your lips, flutters from my fingertips.
Pen your thoughts across my soul, bury them deep within me.
Dip me into the false truth of your realistic illusions.
I want to fall in love, not with a person, that’s too risky, with your words.
Give me something timeless, that sinks into me, something I’ll never forget.
Make me believe in true love, the true love of graceful letters in black and white.


I love any setting and genre, from Historical Renaissance to High Fantasy, Sci-fi. And anything in between. If I don't know a lot about a subject or setting, I'll do the research and put in the time.
I don't usually do Cannon or Fanfic or anything like that, so unless it's a particularly great idea nothing but Original please.

*Modern Realistic
-Mafia plot. High action and corruption.
-Love Triangles, drama and romance. (Death of a loved one and those remaining bond. Maybe a cheating wife or husband.)
-Someone of authority and a runaway, drug user, or sex addict.
-BDSM group or club.

*Modern Fantasy
-Vampires, werewolves, hunters, Anything and everything. Love these stories! (No twilight vamps, please. Original or traditional lore only.)
-Witch Coven. Pagan magic in the world.
-Time or dimension traveling. A rip in the veil of the worlds.

*Medieval
-Knights and Countesses and Dukes. Anything goes. Political and corruption or warring countries.

*High Fantasy
-Elven worlds, where all manner of fantasy creatures exist. Fighting for the balance of light and darkness. Making up original races or evil monsters.

*Sci-fi
-Hundreds of years after leaving earth, living aboard the ship searching for a new world. Or having already colonized a new planet, struggling to survive in a harsh environment.
-Apocalyptic world. Zombies, nuclear, wars. Lots of ways civilization could have been destroyed. Many different options for this idea.

Oh, I finally broke down and made one of these lists. So please enjoy.
Danica's F-list
I don't usually bite, so don't be scared.
Looking forward to writing with you!

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