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Welcome!
Well hello and thank you very much for stopping in to come and visit yet another thread, I promise you this certainly isn't the best one out there but it sure as hell won't be the worst either. (I hope)
So I might as well cover a little about me to kick things off and set a nice, lovely mood. Excuse the poor formatting, maybe I'll get around to making this look pretty and eloquent one day but I wouldn't bet on that.
I'm quite easy going and always down for a discussion about things, whether that be about themes, plots, world events, how my cat annoys me every single day… I don't mind at all. I like to think of myself as a fairly considerate and thoughtful person who is quite empathetic. So I'm always fond of having some OOC chatter alongside my writing partners. Though if you're more a private person that would like to remain more secretive that's fine too.
I've been writing for quite a while at this point. Am I the best or an expert that can recount a million words and all the elaborate meanings behind them or write out some bizarre story at the speed of Stephen King? Not a chance. But I do consider myself decent enough at writing and I am always looking to improve, try out some new things and get feedback on work and areas.
For some specifics when it comes to writing out a story, I'll usually go with third person, past or present tense. Post length is at times hard to measure, sometimes a specific point in a story will call for an abundance of paragraphs while sometimes maybe just a few, especially if it's focusing in on some dialog and inner monologues. For frequency, that's hard to measure as well. At times I'll be busy or need to find the mood. Typically it can be daily or every few days or it could fall onto once a week or so. I do only work with MxF pairings with myself playing the male role. I thoroughly enjoy long term orientated stories with plenty of development.
For what interests me in a story, well I have to say I can be fairly diverse. I'm typically quite fond of modern settings with realistic themes but that doesn't mean I'm not game to try out some grandiose fantasy, whacky sci-fi, some odd supernatural or even fandoms. I'm happy with playing different types of characters and exploring different kinks, from some sweet romantic love tale to some dark and depraved events.
I do have to admit I have a certain affinity for more dark themed elements if I'm being honest. There's something oddly nice about exploring fucked up, toxic, broken characters. Quite an odd telling about me personally I guess aha. But I like themes of mental health, addictions, abuse, trauma, sexism, racism, classism, corruption, objectification, rape… I think that paints a pretty decent picture of my messed up mind but hey, I'm also down for other stuff as mentioned earlier!
In terms of things that make an ideal partner for me.
-Someone that is down to discuss and brainstorm a plot first before jumping in. I enjoy both of us taking the time to discuss things out and weave out a decent outline in which we are both happy, excited and comfortable with what we have talked about.
-Ideas! Similar to the point prior in a way but I'd like someone to come at me with scenarios, thoughts, themes and elements that they would love to incorporate. It's quite good with two enthusiastic people bouncing ideas off each other rather than one person doing all the work.
- Someone that is a coherent and a detailed enough writer. As mentioned, I'm no savant in the writing field and do this just as a hobby and for fun but am looking for someone that knows their way around the ins and outs of writing.
Kink List Link - F-list - Warning
The kink list is certainly not written in stone. Feel free to ask me about certain kinks you may have or want to focus on.
Also, I'm equally down to explore some different celebrity stories as well.
Down for a celebrity either in the beginning of their career or hitting a slump. Being forced into a contract where they lose basic rights and control.
Someone getting very handy blackmail material of a celebrity.
Perhaps a relationship with a bad boy that descends them both into a downward spiral of addictions to sex, drugs, drinking, money.
A rich, bratty socialite desperate to try and become famous and popular.
I'm down for more celebrity ideas if you got them
My Celebrirty list -
Main cravings
Billie Eilish, Katy Perry, Ariana Grande, Scarlett Johansson, Ana De Armas, Kylie Jenner,
Others
Margot Robbie, Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, Kendall Jenner, Alison Brie, Kat Dennings, Megan Fox, Iggy Azalea, Amber Heard, Kiernan Shipka, Natalie Dormer, Sophie Turner, Emma Stone, Emma Roberts, Emily Ratajkowski, Halsey, Jessica Alba
Final Words
So thank ya for checking out this thread and if you're down for an intriguing roleplay along with some quality banter OOC, well I'm ya guy. I also have discord that I can use. So feel free to message me and let's strike something up.
Well hello and thank you very much for stopping in to come and visit yet another thread, I promise you this certainly isn't the best one out there but it sure as hell won't be the worst either. (I hope)
So I might as well cover a little about me to kick things off and set a nice, lovely mood. Excuse the poor formatting, maybe I'll get around to making this look pretty and eloquent one day but I wouldn't bet on that.
I'm quite easy going and always down for a discussion about things, whether that be about themes, plots, world events, how my cat annoys me every single day… I don't mind at all. I like to think of myself as a fairly considerate and thoughtful person who is quite empathetic. So I'm always fond of having some OOC chatter alongside my writing partners. Though if you're more a private person that would like to remain more secretive that's fine too.
I've been writing for quite a while at this point. Am I the best or an expert that can recount a million words and all the elaborate meanings behind them or write out some bizarre story at the speed of Stephen King? Not a chance. But I do consider myself decent enough at writing and I am always looking to improve, try out some new things and get feedback on work and areas.
For some specifics when it comes to writing out a story, I'll usually go with third person, past or present tense. Post length is at times hard to measure, sometimes a specific point in a story will call for an abundance of paragraphs while sometimes maybe just a few, especially if it's focusing in on some dialog and inner monologues. For frequency, that's hard to measure as well. At times I'll be busy or need to find the mood. Typically it can be daily or every few days or it could fall onto once a week or so. I do only work with MxF pairings with myself playing the male role. I thoroughly enjoy long term orientated stories with plenty of development.
For what interests me in a story, well I have to say I can be fairly diverse. I'm typically quite fond of modern settings with realistic themes but that doesn't mean I'm not game to try out some grandiose fantasy, whacky sci-fi, some odd supernatural or even fandoms. I'm happy with playing different types of characters and exploring different kinks, from some sweet romantic love tale to some dark and depraved events.
I do have to admit I have a certain affinity for more dark themed elements if I'm being honest. There's something oddly nice about exploring fucked up, toxic, broken characters. Quite an odd telling about me personally I guess aha. But I like themes of mental health, addictions, abuse, trauma, sexism, racism, classism, corruption, objectification, rape… I think that paints a pretty decent picture of my messed up mind but hey, I'm also down for other stuff as mentioned earlier!
In terms of things that make an ideal partner for me.
-Someone that is down to discuss and brainstorm a plot first before jumping in. I enjoy both of us taking the time to discuss things out and weave out a decent outline in which we are both happy, excited and comfortable with what we have talked about.
-Ideas! Similar to the point prior in a way but I'd like someone to come at me with scenarios, thoughts, themes and elements that they would love to incorporate. It's quite good with two enthusiastic people bouncing ideas off each other rather than one person doing all the work.
- Someone that is a coherent and a detailed enough writer. As mentioned, I'm no savant in the writing field and do this just as a hobby and for fun but am looking for someone that knows their way around the ins and outs of writing.
Kink List Link - F-list - Warning
The kink list is certainly not written in stone. Feel free to ask me about certain kinks you may have or want to focus on.
When the world collapsed, people expected it to be with a big boom, but it was more like a big sigh. It had been coming for ages, and people had closed their eyes to it, and when it finally happened only a few of us were truly ready for it -- the government was one of those that was ready for it. Securing bunkers for themselves and other "essential personnel" was one of the measures they'd taken to secure their own future, and of those essential personnel, a good few were people that just happened to be either lucky or rich. But the world did not stop there. It might've felt like it, underground in one of those bunkers, as the entire outside world was decimated into radioactive nothingness by nuclear warfare and not much could have survived out there. But this assumption was based on wrong information. The world definitely continued to exist, and in fact.. so did the humans that inhabit it. They just took a different form nowadays. Many changed from the exposures to the radioactive chemicals and new environment. Even the wildlife had developed and changed, forming abstract and huge monstrosities that roamed the wasteland.
In this new world, hunting for slaves was a favorite pastime of the people that had taken over the surface, and one of their favorite ways of doing that was to hunt down and crack open old world bunkers. The people inside were still "pure" and made for perfect captives because of that -- but also good trophies. The first time the raiders had obtained an old world celebrity, well, it was a party. Suffice to say Beyoncé did not stay Queen Bee for long. She was used every night, week in week out, by the entirety of the raider group. When the first mutation hit her after a month, she was no longer able to eat normal food, and instead had to be nourished entirely by semen. Her former torture now became her only method of survival. An ironic end to a perfect career.
After that, the raiders began ignoring the "common" women and men. Sure, they made for a nice post-raid snack, but they weren't worth keeping around for too long and usually either died or became one of the raiders. No, the raiders began focusing on capturing old-world celebrities. And these old-world bunkers became perfect targets, as they held "celebs" of all kind. Political figures, pop stars, actors and other famous people.. they all lived in these bunkers now. Just waiting to be cracked open and plundered -- and their bounties taken back to the main camp to be used, abused, and sold.
And if it wasn't the raiders that found them..? Well, the countless wasteland horrors would eventually find a way into the bunker. Truth be told, it was probably a lot more lucky to be taken by a raider than a mutant or creature. They had a habit of not allowing their prey to live long after using them as a living, breathing fleshlight. Though there were those that were sentient, ghouls that were ugly and called demeaning names by humans even if they used to be humans but they were just changed now. There were also super mutants that were much taller, bulkier and muscular compared to humans and had developed very extreme strength and endurance.
Just outside the Universal Studios of Hollywood bunker situated in what was formerly known as Los Angeles, a gang of three men had situated themselves on an overwatch position to the front door of the bunker.
The majority of the inhabitants of L.A. who survived the nuclear blasts died in the ensuing weeks and months due to radiation poisoning, disease, famine, and violence. The city itself was ravaged by fires and aftershocks by the massive concentration of atomic explosions, with places such as Orange County on the outskirts being left as craters. But there were the people in bunkers that were still sheltered or the numerous mutated people that lurked around the wasteland now.
Two large blast doors blocked their entry, but the spinning of the air shaft ventilators gave away a weakness that the gang of three was sure to exploit. After all.. no fresh air..? No life. The doors would surely open then. What followed this revelation was a series of events that would invariably change the lives of those in the bunker at that very moment. First, two of the three took up a position in front of the door, aiming their rifles at the blastdoors, ready for them to be opened. The third raider, a harsh, rough looking man, went up to the top of the bunker and found the air shafts, and began taking apart the fencing that covered the shafts.
Once it'd been pried off, making a tonne of noise that would surely echo throughout the airshafts and reach the people inside, the man dropped the first explosive down the hatch. Clank, clank, clank... BOOM! A second explosive followed, just to make sure. The same noises followed, ending in a loud and powerful explosion. The air shaft was not, without a doubt, no longer functioning. Then, a third grenade was deposited into the air shaft, only this one had a different shape and once it fell halfway through the shaft, it began smoking. The smoke was not entirely harmless, but was certainly not lethal -- it was a type of gas that would make the nose burn before it would force the person inhaling it to sleep. But that was not really the intent.. the intent was to scare the people inside into opening the bunker doors.
Sure enough, once the third raider had joined his two companions down at the entrance to the bunker, the doors began creaking, and a red light began flashing atop the bunker. A minute later and the doors were completely open, and the group of three began their descent into the bunker. There was no need for gas masks, as the gas should have been ventilated out by now, although the burning noses would take a while to disappear. Deeper into the bunker they could hear the confused and worried voices of some people. How many people were in this bunker? Who knew. The raiders didn't, and they didn't care either. They'd only take the people they wanted, after all. And it was unlikely anyone inside was armed, since the bunkers weren't exactly meant to be entire societies after the nuclear war. They were just meant to help people survive for a year before they could leave the bunker.
As soon as they reached the main area of the bunker, one of the raiders aimed his rifle into the air, and loosed a shot, the bang of the gun echoing throughout the chamber.
"Ladies, gentlemen! May we have your attention!? Please line up so we can inspect the goods!" the leader of the three said, while stepping forwards and aiming his gun in the general direction of the crowd. Must've been twenty people maybe.. give or take. Not a big bunker, but definitely not small either.
"Just who do you think you ar-" one of the men in the bunker said. He was dressed in a fine shirt with a tie around his neck, so could've been anyone from a rich man to an engineer meant to maintain the bunker to a political figure of some importance. Whoever he was, the raider didn't seem to care.
He raised his gun, and fired a single bullet into the man's head, who stumbled backwards with a single step before falling over backwards. Yes, of course, the rest of the crowd began screaming and crying, but the yell of the man that had shot the gun called them to attention rather quickly. "We're not messing around people! Line up, let us inspect the goods, and once we're done you can continue pretending that the world outside is empty and dead! We'll leave you in peace as long as you give us what we want, so chop chop, get in line, hurry up!"
----------
"THERE'S ONLY THREE OF THEM!"
It was easy to think that everyone had gone soft in a day where everything had gone hard. To crack open a bunker was to reach inside and pluck out the soft, sweet center with little to no resistance. In most raider's experience it went exactly like that, after all. You put down a single dissident, and the rest of them are so breathless, terrified, or cowardly that there's not any resistance whatsoever moving beyond that. The most useful or desirable could then be weeded out at the leisure of the invaders, while the rest could be put to work for labor or ground up into nutritionally disgusting slurry or used for land-mine scouting or any number of other horrific, painful situations that the normies were only even barely adequate for. Especially throughout California, the rich, the tech-bros, and the celebrities had all proved exceptionally easy prey.
So imagine the sheer balls it took for John Janick to get his brains blown out through the back of his skull and to immediately have someone scream that there was only three of them. Yes, some of them immediately cowered and screamed, that was only to be expected, but a male voice nonetheless shoved a rallying cry out to anyone in the small group who was actually going to listen, and thus managed to throw a chaotic situation into still further chaos. Two men lunged forward at the raiders while another woman came rushing up from the side. Their eyes were red and their cheeks dotted with tears from the burning gasses, but the sudden and unexpected failure of their air supply and the fact that they hadn't all been knocked out had gotten everyone ready for something being about to happen. And happen it did. They had the guns, but the bunker-dwellers had the numbers, and only time was going to tell just what was going to happen when that collision took place.
"Holy fuck," Billie muttered deliriously. Her nose itched and burned like crazy, but like most everyone else down there, the former singer hadn't been knocked out thanks to how far the gas had dispersed. One grenade down a nonfunctional ventilation system left everyone tingling and on edge, but no one down for the count after all -- and her mutter of surprise really came more than anything else thanks to the fact that her brother actually had the goddamn balls to take the fight to these assholes immediately. She was proud of Finneas, honestly, and she always had been. But specially now. She was just about to join the fray in fact, following his lead, when an arm yanking on her elbow stopped her.
"Are you fucking nuts?" Ariana hissed in her prim little voice, Billie's bunker BFF wide eyed and as red-nosed as everyone else, but as soon as another gunshot went off she jumped damn near out of her skin all over again. The petite Italian girl was shaking like a chihuahua and Billie wasn't even entirely sure that she realized how badly she was trembling despite her entire little body vibrating.
Look, a year or two ago, maybe Billie and Ariana would've been frenemies -- I mean, Billie was always cool with other folks in the industry because fuck if she felt like she really believed in the success she had, right? -- but these days there were no charts to worry about or records or awards to compete for. It turned out their best collaboration had been in the record industry execs who had managed to save themselves, some key talent, and some high powered folks with some key talents to keep things running and slam them all together in a bunker to survive the end of the world. These days, Eilish and Grande were damn near inseparable. And not just because they were actually the only two women even close to the same age in the bunker, though yeah, that had gone a long way toward making them friends. Despite Ariana being half again as old as Billie, folks tended to assume she was the younger of the two of them for some annoying reason (mostly because .. well, the two shorties were built entirely differently once you got past the ruler measuring stick metrics), but they were close enough in experience at least to have a lot in common. And that had made them a unified front in staving off boredom, helping out around the bunker, and sticking together when the execs inevitably made their gross proposals about what women should expect to be doing for "the good of humanity".
Yeah, nah.
"Uh, that's my goddamn brother," Billie hissed back, her brother who had been instrumental in helping keep the men vs. women peace in fact, as well as being their never uncomfortable third wheel. And as soon as she said that, panic set in as she realized just how hard he was flinging himself into danger .. and how Ariana had almost kept her from helping. Billie yanked her arm out of her friend's grip, beating her sneakers hard on the floor to try to join the dogpile of bodies trying to keep the raiders from being able to use their weapons. Ariana let out a sound that was almost undefinably between a squeak and a scream and a growl of frustration, but what choice did she have?
It had just become an all-or-nothing free for all as the peace of their apocalypse shelter was forever shattered. And every last one of them was going to have to fight for their lives.
There were only three raiders, after all. And only about twenty survivors.
The odds were bad for both sides.
--------
Nothing of this is set in concrete but basically I'm looking to explore a celebrity or two who is used to be a world of glamour and fame but is now in a desolate world that is full of darkness and depravity. Celebrities are now a hunted prized commodity of the past world. We could follow her doing things to get by and survive.
I think that it would be quite fun to explore a narrative in which a character, the celebrity(s) was caught by someone who didn't even intend to abuse that position. Think of him as a bounty hunter... he is telling himself that he isn't as bad as those other men... even though he trades off women he catches for a profit, let that be basic supplies or something more elaborate.
However, during the journey we could play, a journey that would take him and his captives through the desolate lands to find a buyer, he would eventually turn... and find joy in what he despised for so long. He could turn into one of those men he usually caters too... and as much as he might hate himself, he has some easy ways to release that anger, right?
He might not indulge in fucking her right away, thinking he has some weird sense of morality. But he stands idly by while she gets used while he gains shelter, goods, etc.
Open to lots of different ways to do this story
In this new world, hunting for slaves was a favorite pastime of the people that had taken over the surface, and one of their favorite ways of doing that was to hunt down and crack open old world bunkers. The people inside were still "pure" and made for perfect captives because of that -- but also good trophies. The first time the raiders had obtained an old world celebrity, well, it was a party. Suffice to say Beyoncé did not stay Queen Bee for long. She was used every night, week in week out, by the entirety of the raider group. When the first mutation hit her after a month, she was no longer able to eat normal food, and instead had to be nourished entirely by semen. Her former torture now became her only method of survival. An ironic end to a perfect career.
After that, the raiders began ignoring the "common" women and men. Sure, they made for a nice post-raid snack, but they weren't worth keeping around for too long and usually either died or became one of the raiders. No, the raiders began focusing on capturing old-world celebrities. And these old-world bunkers became perfect targets, as they held "celebs" of all kind. Political figures, pop stars, actors and other famous people.. they all lived in these bunkers now. Just waiting to be cracked open and plundered -- and their bounties taken back to the main camp to be used, abused, and sold.
And if it wasn't the raiders that found them..? Well, the countless wasteland horrors would eventually find a way into the bunker. Truth be told, it was probably a lot more lucky to be taken by a raider than a mutant or creature. They had a habit of not allowing their prey to live long after using them as a living, breathing fleshlight. Though there were those that were sentient, ghouls that were ugly and called demeaning names by humans even if they used to be humans but they were just changed now. There were also super mutants that were much taller, bulkier and muscular compared to humans and had developed very extreme strength and endurance.
Just outside the Universal Studios of Hollywood bunker situated in what was formerly known as Los Angeles, a gang of three men had situated themselves on an overwatch position to the front door of the bunker.
The majority of the inhabitants of L.A. who survived the nuclear blasts died in the ensuing weeks and months due to radiation poisoning, disease, famine, and violence. The city itself was ravaged by fires and aftershocks by the massive concentration of atomic explosions, with places such as Orange County on the outskirts being left as craters. But there were the people in bunkers that were still sheltered or the numerous mutated people that lurked around the wasteland now.
Two large blast doors blocked their entry, but the spinning of the air shaft ventilators gave away a weakness that the gang of three was sure to exploit. After all.. no fresh air..? No life. The doors would surely open then. What followed this revelation was a series of events that would invariably change the lives of those in the bunker at that very moment. First, two of the three took up a position in front of the door, aiming their rifles at the blastdoors, ready for them to be opened. The third raider, a harsh, rough looking man, went up to the top of the bunker and found the air shafts, and began taking apart the fencing that covered the shafts.
Once it'd been pried off, making a tonne of noise that would surely echo throughout the airshafts and reach the people inside, the man dropped the first explosive down the hatch. Clank, clank, clank... BOOM! A second explosive followed, just to make sure. The same noises followed, ending in a loud and powerful explosion. The air shaft was not, without a doubt, no longer functioning. Then, a third grenade was deposited into the air shaft, only this one had a different shape and once it fell halfway through the shaft, it began smoking. The smoke was not entirely harmless, but was certainly not lethal -- it was a type of gas that would make the nose burn before it would force the person inhaling it to sleep. But that was not really the intent.. the intent was to scare the people inside into opening the bunker doors.
Sure enough, once the third raider had joined his two companions down at the entrance to the bunker, the doors began creaking, and a red light began flashing atop the bunker. A minute later and the doors were completely open, and the group of three began their descent into the bunker. There was no need for gas masks, as the gas should have been ventilated out by now, although the burning noses would take a while to disappear. Deeper into the bunker they could hear the confused and worried voices of some people. How many people were in this bunker? Who knew. The raiders didn't, and they didn't care either. They'd only take the people they wanted, after all. And it was unlikely anyone inside was armed, since the bunkers weren't exactly meant to be entire societies after the nuclear war. They were just meant to help people survive for a year before they could leave the bunker.
As soon as they reached the main area of the bunker, one of the raiders aimed his rifle into the air, and loosed a shot, the bang of the gun echoing throughout the chamber.
"Ladies, gentlemen! May we have your attention!? Please line up so we can inspect the goods!" the leader of the three said, while stepping forwards and aiming his gun in the general direction of the crowd. Must've been twenty people maybe.. give or take. Not a big bunker, but definitely not small either.
"Just who do you think you ar-" one of the men in the bunker said. He was dressed in a fine shirt with a tie around his neck, so could've been anyone from a rich man to an engineer meant to maintain the bunker to a political figure of some importance. Whoever he was, the raider didn't seem to care.
He raised his gun, and fired a single bullet into the man's head, who stumbled backwards with a single step before falling over backwards. Yes, of course, the rest of the crowd began screaming and crying, but the yell of the man that had shot the gun called them to attention rather quickly. "We're not messing around people! Line up, let us inspect the goods, and once we're done you can continue pretending that the world outside is empty and dead! We'll leave you in peace as long as you give us what we want, so chop chop, get in line, hurry up!"
----------
"THERE'S ONLY THREE OF THEM!"
It was easy to think that everyone had gone soft in a day where everything had gone hard. To crack open a bunker was to reach inside and pluck out the soft, sweet center with little to no resistance. In most raider's experience it went exactly like that, after all. You put down a single dissident, and the rest of them are so breathless, terrified, or cowardly that there's not any resistance whatsoever moving beyond that. The most useful or desirable could then be weeded out at the leisure of the invaders, while the rest could be put to work for labor or ground up into nutritionally disgusting slurry or used for land-mine scouting or any number of other horrific, painful situations that the normies were only even barely adequate for. Especially throughout California, the rich, the tech-bros, and the celebrities had all proved exceptionally easy prey.
So imagine the sheer balls it took for John Janick to get his brains blown out through the back of his skull and to immediately have someone scream that there was only three of them. Yes, some of them immediately cowered and screamed, that was only to be expected, but a male voice nonetheless shoved a rallying cry out to anyone in the small group who was actually going to listen, and thus managed to throw a chaotic situation into still further chaos. Two men lunged forward at the raiders while another woman came rushing up from the side. Their eyes were red and their cheeks dotted with tears from the burning gasses, but the sudden and unexpected failure of their air supply and the fact that they hadn't all been knocked out had gotten everyone ready for something being about to happen. And happen it did. They had the guns, but the bunker-dwellers had the numbers, and only time was going to tell just what was going to happen when that collision took place.
"Holy fuck," Billie muttered deliriously. Her nose itched and burned like crazy, but like most everyone else down there, the former singer hadn't been knocked out thanks to how far the gas had dispersed. One grenade down a nonfunctional ventilation system left everyone tingling and on edge, but no one down for the count after all -- and her mutter of surprise really came more than anything else thanks to the fact that her brother actually had the goddamn balls to take the fight to these assholes immediately. She was proud of Finneas, honestly, and she always had been. But specially now. She was just about to join the fray in fact, following his lead, when an arm yanking on her elbow stopped her.
"Are you fucking nuts?" Ariana hissed in her prim little voice, Billie's bunker BFF wide eyed and as red-nosed as everyone else, but as soon as another gunshot went off she jumped damn near out of her skin all over again. The petite Italian girl was shaking like a chihuahua and Billie wasn't even entirely sure that she realized how badly she was trembling despite her entire little body vibrating.
Look, a year or two ago, maybe Billie and Ariana would've been frenemies -- I mean, Billie was always cool with other folks in the industry because fuck if she felt like she really believed in the success she had, right? -- but these days there were no charts to worry about or records or awards to compete for. It turned out their best collaboration had been in the record industry execs who had managed to save themselves, some key talent, and some high powered folks with some key talents to keep things running and slam them all together in a bunker to survive the end of the world. These days, Eilish and Grande were damn near inseparable. And not just because they were actually the only two women even close to the same age in the bunker, though yeah, that had gone a long way toward making them friends. Despite Ariana being half again as old as Billie, folks tended to assume she was the younger of the two of them for some annoying reason (mostly because .. well, the two shorties were built entirely differently once you got past the ruler measuring stick metrics), but they were close enough in experience at least to have a lot in common. And that had made them a unified front in staving off boredom, helping out around the bunker, and sticking together when the execs inevitably made their gross proposals about what women should expect to be doing for "the good of humanity".
Yeah, nah.
"Uh, that's my goddamn brother," Billie hissed back, her brother who had been instrumental in helping keep the men vs. women peace in fact, as well as being their never uncomfortable third wheel. And as soon as she said that, panic set in as she realized just how hard he was flinging himself into danger .. and how Ariana had almost kept her from helping. Billie yanked her arm out of her friend's grip, beating her sneakers hard on the floor to try to join the dogpile of bodies trying to keep the raiders from being able to use their weapons. Ariana let out a sound that was almost undefinably between a squeak and a scream and a growl of frustration, but what choice did she have?
It had just become an all-or-nothing free for all as the peace of their apocalypse shelter was forever shattered. And every last one of them was going to have to fight for their lives.
There were only three raiders, after all. And only about twenty survivors.
The odds were bad for both sides.
--------
Nothing of this is set in concrete but basically I'm looking to explore a celebrity or two who is used to be a world of glamour and fame but is now in a desolate world that is full of darkness and depravity. Celebrities are now a hunted prized commodity of the past world. We could follow her doing things to get by and survive.
I think that it would be quite fun to explore a narrative in which a character, the celebrity(s) was caught by someone who didn't even intend to abuse that position. Think of him as a bounty hunter... he is telling himself that he isn't as bad as those other men... even though he trades off women he catches for a profit, let that be basic supplies or something more elaborate.
However, during the journey we could play, a journey that would take him and his captives through the desolate lands to find a buyer, he would eventually turn... and find joy in what he despised for so long. He could turn into one of those men he usually caters too... and as much as he might hate himself, he has some easy ways to release that anger, right?
He might not indulge in fucking her right away, thinking he has some weird sense of morality. But he stands idly by while she gets used while he gains shelter, goods, etc.
Open to lots of different ways to do this story
A single door separated Billie and her boyfriend Liam from everyone else backstage working the show. Grips strode back and forth ensuring all the lighting and rigging was set up for the performance to come while a select few fans that paid a hefty price got to wander the halls. The opening act had already been performing on stage and was nearing the end of their set. Their entourage also walked the halls going from the sides of the stage of the breakroom and wherever else they may wander. Unlike the opening act Billie had her own room and on the other side of that door the teen popstar that had been very quickly climbing and dominating the charts was of all places, on her knees. Her pre performance "mediation" was well underway. The teen sat on her knees wearing her signature baggy pants, boots and a sweater too big for her that also hid away her surprisingly supple and huge breasts from the world. One ankle rested atop the other crossing her feet to add a bit of "vulnerability" to her position. A light bit of spit drizzled down her chin to form beads of lust that then fell to the floor. Her head bobbed up and down between her boyfriend's denim covered thighs. His cock nestled between her glossy nude painted lips. Some of that gloss had smeared his skin leaving streaks in her lustful wake. Something she knew Liam fucking loved to no end which is possibly why her lips seemed to be painted with an extra thick layer of gloss. When her lips pulled off his cock his shaft glistened with her spit.
Liam's hand reached out resting atop her head caressing her before sliding his fingers into her raven black and dyed green locks of hair to clear the strands of hair from her eyes. Those big blue iris looked up at him. The man moaned aloud as he looked down to her. The contrast of their skin so apparent it'd be stupid not to acknowledge. The taboo and kink that came along with it adding to the excitement and thrill as if her being a world renown popstar wasn't enough. They'd hear the sounds of people talking just past the door, footsteps going back and forth. One set stopped right at the door but didn't dare open it. A knock vibrated through the room and a feminine voice called out "Five minutes till you're up Billie" Liam looked over to the door as the footsteps walked away then back to his younger, pale Oral Queen with a smirk.
"Five minutes? Mmm Normally a Snowbunny couldn't get me off so quickly but they aren't you. They aren't my Queen with the throat of an angel" His hand slid to the back of her skull pressing her head down to nudge the last few remaining inches of his cock into her pretty throat bulging it out in a manner that scores of men and women would pay to see. A thick pool of spit drizzled off her bottom lip creating ropes of lust that fell on the ground and some even on his balls. He'd hold her there till her eyes began to water a good bit then release her from his powerful grip allowing her to stay or to pull away if she needed air. Even if she walked out with eyes a little watery or red from the strain of his cock most would just assume she was high. In a way she was but not on the drug they'd assume. She was high on cock. Taking his phone he googled her name. The top results that came back were all gossip and rumors but delicious none the less. He read a few out loud. "Teen popstar dating hot shot NBA player." He gave a light chuckle. "Hmmm this one "Possible scandal for the new queen of pop? They seem to think we've been seeing each other in secret since before you were eighteen." He laughed slightly which made his cock flex between her beautiful full lips and shot her a wink. "Cute, but wrong again. We met after you were all legal. But for someone so concerned and wanna be virtuous they sure do come up with some perverted shit."
"Oh, Hello there. Listen to this baby. "What's their relationship mean for her future?" I don't know, lets see what they say." With a smirk he clicked it. "We all know the saying. The heart wants what the heart wants." He nodded along. "True, true. And every cock wants a tight pussy or a hot mouth to fuck. Guess I got lucky when I found that you had it all" Reaching down he grabbed her by the hair to pull at her locks so that her roots burned. He pulled her up forcing her to balance with her hands at his thighs and get up high enough that he could lean in and kiss her. His tongue gliding over the very same tongue that was just on his cock. Loving her muscle, massaging her Grammy award winning tongue. Pouring his passion into her lips. Something her white Ex had never done and even scoffed at the idea calling it "gross" or "gay" but Liam didn't care about such things. Only about his woman, his love and some light bodily fluids wouldn't stop him from worshiping his Queen's oral muscle. Breaking the kiss he guided her back down to his black cock. A match made not in heaven but more likely in the sinful depths of hell.
"How will their relationship impact her career? Will this boyfriend of her's" He scoffed. "I got a name, mother fuckers." He shrugged it off "Will they be able to manage each other's careers" He scoffed at the idea. "Idiots." He laughed which had his cock flexing in her mouth again. His hand lowered to her head caressing her skull. He went on "With countless fans looking to Billie as an example is it possible that young woman would take her relationship as an example of what's normal and accepted? Will we be seeing more young woman seeking out men of color as potential life partners? We'll just have to wait and see." Liam then locked his phone, setting it past Billie at the styling desk next to her make up and lipstick products. The lights around the mirror lit up bright reflecting back Liam sitting there with Billie's head bobbing up and down in and out of frame.
"What do you think about all that, babe?" He asked but before she could answer, he would grunt. Liam grabbed the arm rest with his fingers gripping into it his other hand gripping her skull as his cock flexed hard as his seed began to jet out of his cock into her mouth glazing her award winning tongue and fill her mouth leaving her with a choice to swallow, spit or maybe even to keep going and drizzle it right back over that pornstar cock.
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Looking to explore the ups and downs of a young famous couple dealing with the various things that would be involved in young love and drama at a famous level. Open to changes to this and other ideas.
Liam's hand reached out resting atop her head caressing her before sliding his fingers into her raven black and dyed green locks of hair to clear the strands of hair from her eyes. Those big blue iris looked up at him. The man moaned aloud as he looked down to her. The contrast of their skin so apparent it'd be stupid not to acknowledge. The taboo and kink that came along with it adding to the excitement and thrill as if her being a world renown popstar wasn't enough. They'd hear the sounds of people talking just past the door, footsteps going back and forth. One set stopped right at the door but didn't dare open it. A knock vibrated through the room and a feminine voice called out "Five minutes till you're up Billie" Liam looked over to the door as the footsteps walked away then back to his younger, pale Oral Queen with a smirk.
"Five minutes? Mmm Normally a Snowbunny couldn't get me off so quickly but they aren't you. They aren't my Queen with the throat of an angel" His hand slid to the back of her skull pressing her head down to nudge the last few remaining inches of his cock into her pretty throat bulging it out in a manner that scores of men and women would pay to see. A thick pool of spit drizzled off her bottom lip creating ropes of lust that fell on the ground and some even on his balls. He'd hold her there till her eyes began to water a good bit then release her from his powerful grip allowing her to stay or to pull away if she needed air. Even if she walked out with eyes a little watery or red from the strain of his cock most would just assume she was high. In a way she was but not on the drug they'd assume. She was high on cock. Taking his phone he googled her name. The top results that came back were all gossip and rumors but delicious none the less. He read a few out loud. "Teen popstar dating hot shot NBA player." He gave a light chuckle. "Hmmm this one "Possible scandal for the new queen of pop? They seem to think we've been seeing each other in secret since before you were eighteen." He laughed slightly which made his cock flex between her beautiful full lips and shot her a wink. "Cute, but wrong again. We met after you were all legal. But for someone so concerned and wanna be virtuous they sure do come up with some perverted shit."
"Oh, Hello there. Listen to this baby. "What's their relationship mean for her future?" I don't know, lets see what they say." With a smirk he clicked it. "We all know the saying. The heart wants what the heart wants." He nodded along. "True, true. And every cock wants a tight pussy or a hot mouth to fuck. Guess I got lucky when I found that you had it all" Reaching down he grabbed her by the hair to pull at her locks so that her roots burned. He pulled her up forcing her to balance with her hands at his thighs and get up high enough that he could lean in and kiss her. His tongue gliding over the very same tongue that was just on his cock. Loving her muscle, massaging her Grammy award winning tongue. Pouring his passion into her lips. Something her white Ex had never done and even scoffed at the idea calling it "gross" or "gay" but Liam didn't care about such things. Only about his woman, his love and some light bodily fluids wouldn't stop him from worshiping his Queen's oral muscle. Breaking the kiss he guided her back down to his black cock. A match made not in heaven but more likely in the sinful depths of hell.
"How will their relationship impact her career? Will this boyfriend of her's" He scoffed. "I got a name, mother fuckers." He shrugged it off "Will they be able to manage each other's careers" He scoffed at the idea. "Idiots." He laughed which had his cock flexing in her mouth again. His hand lowered to her head caressing her skull. He went on "With countless fans looking to Billie as an example is it possible that young woman would take her relationship as an example of what's normal and accepted? Will we be seeing more young woman seeking out men of color as potential life partners? We'll just have to wait and see." Liam then locked his phone, setting it past Billie at the styling desk next to her make up and lipstick products. The lights around the mirror lit up bright reflecting back Liam sitting there with Billie's head bobbing up and down in and out of frame.
"What do you think about all that, babe?" He asked but before she could answer, he would grunt. Liam grabbed the arm rest with his fingers gripping into it his other hand gripping her skull as his cock flexed hard as his seed began to jet out of his cock into her mouth glazing her award winning tongue and fill her mouth leaving her with a choice to swallow, spit or maybe even to keep going and drizzle it right back over that pornstar cock.
--------
Looking to explore the ups and downs of a young famous couple dealing with the various things that would be involved in young love and drama at a famous level. Open to changes to this and other ideas.
Kylie Cameron stepped from the limo and smiled that trademark smile at the flashes of camera's and the pap's who always seemed to yell out the same questions every time she appeared someplace... but it came with the territory and at 25, she had already had a career that spanned more than 20 years. From the 3 year old darling in a sitcom, through Disney's productions at 11 before getting her own iconic show at 16, she had been the sex symbol of a generation of teenage boys and some girls for a 4 season run of Tuesday's Troubles, awards and more exposure than you could shake a stick at. Her marriage at 20 to a man 17 years her senior had been a bit of a contraversery, but she still smiled and even wiggled her fingers at one of the women that she had done an interview with a couple of months before about her plans for the future and whether she would match her mother someday on the silver screen. Kylie had perfected a clothing line, cosmetics and even wrote a book that hit the best seller list from the start; she had more than enough money coming in that she didn't have to work another day of her life if she decided to do that. Not that she planned to retire anytime soon. She was still a hot commodity and she intended to make the most of it.
So, she smiled and strolled up the red carpet... fuming inside with enough heat to fuel half of Hollywood. Her husband, a man who she felt... something for one minute and hated the next. Her husband of 5 years and she were suppose to be a happily married couple and these appearances were suppose to support that image. But Blain, her husband had called her less than an hour before they were due to go to the premier of her mother's newest film and he was running late; he would meet her there. She would lay odds that he was screwing that little 18 year old assistant that he had hired a few weeks before. Blaine was nothing if not persuasive when it came to getting into women's panties; she should know... he had done it to her as well. "Where are you, you bastard!" she swore under her breath and walked up the red carpet. There would be weeks of questions about their breakup, a separation or even a divorce until they appeared again as a couple... and who got the questions? Not Blaine!
Kylis lightly ran her hand over the silken material of the dress that she wore for the big event. She had put her raven hair into an up-do to leave her shoulders bare in the strapless black number that hugged her D-cupped breasts and slender waist... and did wonders for her ass before it stopped just 3 inches above the stocking clad knees and, of course, the slingback heels that everyone expected to see. Her deep brown eyes scanned the people ahead of her and her smile grew warm and sincere as she spotted the next heart-throb of the big screen. She wondered if he was involved with anyone... she wouldn't mind keeping him company for the next 3 weeks of filming for Law And Order. She had, of course, met him months before when he had started filming the movie with her mother and tonight, the movie would be viewed for the first time.
---------
"Hey Kylie" she heard a voice approach behind her, just before turning to see the handsome supporting actor of the film she was about to see, Jonathan Crow. Crow was thirty five and in line to be the heir to the legacy of George Clooney. Preternaturally handsome, with no sign of aging anything but gracefully, the man was single, a commodity in Hollywood, and an unquestionable leading man for decades to come. Her eyes smiled as broadly as her mouth as she turned to say hello. No sooner had she done so, he greeted her with a warm, simply friendly hug and kiss upon her cheek.
"Hey Jon," she said.
"Where is Blaine?" he asked, away from the ears of any paparazzo at the distant photography line, leaving them only to fill in the imaginary, flirtatious conversation they conjured up and wanted to report. While they would be wrong, they actually wouldn't be far off. She certainly wondered if Jon Crow was available at the moment and would not mind finding out.
"He's on his way," she said. "He had some late work that kept him." The movie star with her stood a moment and offered his arm to escort her into the premiere.
"Well let's go inside," he said. She smiled again and took his arm, walking in with him, then quickly outside the eyes of any media, again leaving them to create a narrative of their choice. A while later, shortly before the movie was set to begin, as she mingled with Crow and others, including her mother, wine in hand, she saw her husband sneak through the entrance nearly undetected, finally ready to be by her side. As he did, she released Crow's hand, hoping he hadn't seen it. She didn't want to have the fight now, if she could avoid it.
"There you are," she said, clearly annoyed, but where nobody could hear, as he approached. "Where have you been?"
Blaine Kennedy gave an annoyed scowl toward his wife upon hearing her words. He knew exactly the arrow to fire from his quiver.
"The Markets are always working and never outgrow their usefulness," he said as he kissed her cheek so as only she could hear. He pulled back with a wry grin, looking proud of his wife for the crowds, while beaming only at the free and easy shot he had taken. He had grown wealthy on Wall Street years ago, first at Goldman, then replacing Jamie Dimon at JP Morgan. Having excelled at banking and finance at a young age gave him the freedom to pursue other pursuits and one of those had been the creation of an investment group that sought to bring an NFL team to Los Angeles. While he had always been an east coast guy, the warm weather and beautiful women of California suited him, and he had made the golden state his home when he was thirty. It was there, however, that he had first met Steven Frates, an angel investor in a number of tech startups in San Francisco, whose owners and CEOs Blaine coveted for their business. Soon, he had struck a friendship with Frates, who later introduced him to a number of the West coast elite, including many who found their way to Frates' Gatsby style parties in the hills over L.A. It was at one such party that Blaine had first noticed the golden skinned girl with the firm body and tight build - Kylie Cameron, with whose work he had been unfamiliar , never having kids of his own to inform him of her popular appeal. Making a swift introduction, he learned she was the daughter of an incredibly famous actress, and though Kylie was only twenty, he found her ever more appealing. Weeks later, he asked Frates for a number and, while at first hesitant, the financier set them up on a first get together which all involved hesitated to call a date. A quick and raging year later, they were married in a small, private ceremony in Aspen.
"It's not like you were having problems finding company," he nodded toward Jon Crow.
"Fuck you, Blaine," she replied as he stepped past her and toward the bar, where he ordered an Old Fashioned with Rye whiskey. She watched him move away before turning back and walking toward a group where her mother now stood. Blaine got his drink and turned with a coy smirk to look over the gathered crowd. Hollywood was never his scene, certainly more for his wife. Years ago, she had been a shark in these waters, the fierce, dangerous creature everyone sought to contain, though none could. He had never tamed her himself, though the dark nights overlooking magnificent views and vistas as he pistoned in and out of her tiny body in an effort to do so were as close as any had seemingly come. He enjoyed the tabloid attention a bit, but Kylie had eaten it up, playing to it as much as possible, and he grew to resent it when she quit working steadily, instead hamming for the cameras in New York, Las Vegas, London, Rio, and anywhere else she could spend his money and waste her own time.
He stepped from the bar, then listened as the studio attendants began ushering people into the theater. He noticed a cute attendant, perhaps no more than twenty, standing near the entrance and cast a wink in her direction as he sipped from his drink. He turned to look over his shoulder and quickly made eyes with Kylie, arms crossed and head cocked as if asking him if he seriously dared to disrespect her in front of these people. He shrugged and finished his drink before clenching his jaw and walking toward her, offering his arm to go into the movie.
"Shall we?" He asked in monotone. Kylie looked at him for a moment in silence. Then, she opened her crossed arms, placing one inside his own.
"Don't act like I don't know," she said. He raised his eyebrows.
"Don't act like you're not a whore, either," came his pointed response. Knowing they would step along a windowed corrider where the photographers outside would see, the girl put on a grin as if he had said the most delightful thing ever while they walked past the cameras lenses. She was a pro at making things seem perfect.
"Don't even think about staying in the apartment tonight," She responded, maintaining her grin.
"One of us should," he said, jabbing her again, referencing the opportunity she might have with Jon Crow, or perhaps another. She smirked at him, begrudgingly impressed and also holding down a fury just beneath the surface. As they stepped into the theater, she unclasped his hand and stepped down the aisles away from him, intending in no way to sit with him any longer than necessary. He swatted her ass playfully in the dark, finding it remarkable still just how firm it was and how much he liked it even though he often couldn't stand his wife. She was still good for something. She turned with a slight start before continuing on her way.
"Don't even think about that either," was all she said before joining her mother and friends in a row to itself as the opening credits rolled. Blaine walked up the stairs, in the opposite direction, giving no response. He would save it for the room later and see what she said then.
-------
An old prompt of mine that I wouldn't mind exploring again.
Wanting the ups and downs of a couple in the limelight as they love/hate each other throughout their lives and go on escapades by cheating with numerous other people. Thinking of having more focus on Kylie's endeavours in general, also thinking that she might try to launch her career back into acting and such.
So, she smiled and strolled up the red carpet... fuming inside with enough heat to fuel half of Hollywood. Her husband, a man who she felt... something for one minute and hated the next. Her husband of 5 years and she were suppose to be a happily married couple and these appearances were suppose to support that image. But Blain, her husband had called her less than an hour before they were due to go to the premier of her mother's newest film and he was running late; he would meet her there. She would lay odds that he was screwing that little 18 year old assistant that he had hired a few weeks before. Blaine was nothing if not persuasive when it came to getting into women's panties; she should know... he had done it to her as well. "Where are you, you bastard!" she swore under her breath and walked up the red carpet. There would be weeks of questions about their breakup, a separation or even a divorce until they appeared again as a couple... and who got the questions? Not Blaine!
Kylis lightly ran her hand over the silken material of the dress that she wore for the big event. She had put her raven hair into an up-do to leave her shoulders bare in the strapless black number that hugged her D-cupped breasts and slender waist... and did wonders for her ass before it stopped just 3 inches above the stocking clad knees and, of course, the slingback heels that everyone expected to see. Her deep brown eyes scanned the people ahead of her and her smile grew warm and sincere as she spotted the next heart-throb of the big screen. She wondered if he was involved with anyone... she wouldn't mind keeping him company for the next 3 weeks of filming for Law And Order. She had, of course, met him months before when he had started filming the movie with her mother and tonight, the movie would be viewed for the first time.
---------
"Hey Kylie" she heard a voice approach behind her, just before turning to see the handsome supporting actor of the film she was about to see, Jonathan Crow. Crow was thirty five and in line to be the heir to the legacy of George Clooney. Preternaturally handsome, with no sign of aging anything but gracefully, the man was single, a commodity in Hollywood, and an unquestionable leading man for decades to come. Her eyes smiled as broadly as her mouth as she turned to say hello. No sooner had she done so, he greeted her with a warm, simply friendly hug and kiss upon her cheek.
"Hey Jon," she said.
"Where is Blaine?" he asked, away from the ears of any paparazzo at the distant photography line, leaving them only to fill in the imaginary, flirtatious conversation they conjured up and wanted to report. While they would be wrong, they actually wouldn't be far off. She certainly wondered if Jon Crow was available at the moment and would not mind finding out.
"He's on his way," she said. "He had some late work that kept him." The movie star with her stood a moment and offered his arm to escort her into the premiere.
"Well let's go inside," he said. She smiled again and took his arm, walking in with him, then quickly outside the eyes of any media, again leaving them to create a narrative of their choice. A while later, shortly before the movie was set to begin, as she mingled with Crow and others, including her mother, wine in hand, she saw her husband sneak through the entrance nearly undetected, finally ready to be by her side. As he did, she released Crow's hand, hoping he hadn't seen it. She didn't want to have the fight now, if she could avoid it.
"There you are," she said, clearly annoyed, but where nobody could hear, as he approached. "Where have you been?"
Blaine Kennedy gave an annoyed scowl toward his wife upon hearing her words. He knew exactly the arrow to fire from his quiver.
"The Markets are always working and never outgrow their usefulness," he said as he kissed her cheek so as only she could hear. He pulled back with a wry grin, looking proud of his wife for the crowds, while beaming only at the free and easy shot he had taken. He had grown wealthy on Wall Street years ago, first at Goldman, then replacing Jamie Dimon at JP Morgan. Having excelled at banking and finance at a young age gave him the freedom to pursue other pursuits and one of those had been the creation of an investment group that sought to bring an NFL team to Los Angeles. While he had always been an east coast guy, the warm weather and beautiful women of California suited him, and he had made the golden state his home when he was thirty. It was there, however, that he had first met Steven Frates, an angel investor in a number of tech startups in San Francisco, whose owners and CEOs Blaine coveted for their business. Soon, he had struck a friendship with Frates, who later introduced him to a number of the West coast elite, including many who found their way to Frates' Gatsby style parties in the hills over L.A. It was at one such party that Blaine had first noticed the golden skinned girl with the firm body and tight build - Kylie Cameron, with whose work he had been unfamiliar , never having kids of his own to inform him of her popular appeal. Making a swift introduction, he learned she was the daughter of an incredibly famous actress, and though Kylie was only twenty, he found her ever more appealing. Weeks later, he asked Frates for a number and, while at first hesitant, the financier set them up on a first get together which all involved hesitated to call a date. A quick and raging year later, they were married in a small, private ceremony in Aspen.
"It's not like you were having problems finding company," he nodded toward Jon Crow.
"Fuck you, Blaine," she replied as he stepped past her and toward the bar, where he ordered an Old Fashioned with Rye whiskey. She watched him move away before turning back and walking toward a group where her mother now stood. Blaine got his drink and turned with a coy smirk to look over the gathered crowd. Hollywood was never his scene, certainly more for his wife. Years ago, she had been a shark in these waters, the fierce, dangerous creature everyone sought to contain, though none could. He had never tamed her himself, though the dark nights overlooking magnificent views and vistas as he pistoned in and out of her tiny body in an effort to do so were as close as any had seemingly come. He enjoyed the tabloid attention a bit, but Kylie had eaten it up, playing to it as much as possible, and he grew to resent it when she quit working steadily, instead hamming for the cameras in New York, Las Vegas, London, Rio, and anywhere else she could spend his money and waste her own time.
He stepped from the bar, then listened as the studio attendants began ushering people into the theater. He noticed a cute attendant, perhaps no more than twenty, standing near the entrance and cast a wink in her direction as he sipped from his drink. He turned to look over his shoulder and quickly made eyes with Kylie, arms crossed and head cocked as if asking him if he seriously dared to disrespect her in front of these people. He shrugged and finished his drink before clenching his jaw and walking toward her, offering his arm to go into the movie.
"Shall we?" He asked in monotone. Kylie looked at him for a moment in silence. Then, she opened her crossed arms, placing one inside his own.
"Don't act like I don't know," she said. He raised his eyebrows.
"Don't act like you're not a whore, either," came his pointed response. Knowing they would step along a windowed corrider where the photographers outside would see, the girl put on a grin as if he had said the most delightful thing ever while they walked past the cameras lenses. She was a pro at making things seem perfect.
"Don't even think about staying in the apartment tonight," She responded, maintaining her grin.
"One of us should," he said, jabbing her again, referencing the opportunity she might have with Jon Crow, or perhaps another. She smirked at him, begrudgingly impressed and also holding down a fury just beneath the surface. As they stepped into the theater, she unclasped his hand and stepped down the aisles away from him, intending in no way to sit with him any longer than necessary. He swatted her ass playfully in the dark, finding it remarkable still just how firm it was and how much he liked it even though he often couldn't stand his wife. She was still good for something. She turned with a slight start before continuing on her way.
"Don't even think about that either," was all she said before joining her mother and friends in a row to itself as the opening credits rolled. Blaine walked up the stairs, in the opposite direction, giving no response. He would save it for the room later and see what she said then.
-------
An old prompt of mine that I wouldn't mind exploring again.
Wanting the ups and downs of a couple in the limelight as they love/hate each other throughout their lives and go on escapades by cheating with numerous other people. Thinking of having more focus on Kylie's endeavours in general, also thinking that she might try to launch her career back into acting and such.
It was typical LA night and one would lose themselves easily into the bustle of night life. However, in a small bar situated away from the bustling downtown, here was a humble and unlikely girl who we’d know as Katy Perry today.
Through the rickety door of the bar, there was some bustling as there truckers, regulars, and girl groups chattered and contributed to the bar’s nightlife. There were men who roared laughing about stories and jokes they shared with each other, while some others tried their luck to hit on the girls while receiving giggles and condescending playful comments in return.
All the meanwhile, Katheryn sat on a stool at the back of the dive bar. A lone light shone down on her as she strum at her guitar and sang into the shitty microphone. She tried to ignore the waitress shouting at the bartender, the two truckers heckling her as they played pool, and just focused on the music. She closed her eyes, willed away the distractions and sang, and tried to pretend she didn’t feel like throwing up from her nerves.
She had on a pair of tight faded blue jeans and a peach colored blouse. Her raven hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had on the wispiest hint of makeup. She sat uncomfortably on her stool as she continuously tried her best to focus internally on her voice, music, and channeling her emotions into her music.
There was a smattering of applause as the final notes of her last song rang through the bar and died. Soon, however, everyone continued with what they were doing, again ignoring Katheryn presence.
She shyly cleared her throat and tried to smile as she almost whispered into the mic, “Ummm...thank you. I’m Katheryn Hudson. Have a great night.”
Then she got up and hurriedly rushed off stage, inconspicuously making way over to the bar.
Josh sat in this dump of a bar, a man of his prestigious job usually wouldn't be in a lowly place like this but sometimes he would come to this place even if it did leave an awful stench on his expensive suits. It was convenient and the place did have some strong drinks.
One of the main reasons he would go to these shady bars would be to spot any young attractive women, he would approach them and introduce himself as an agent to the stars, which was a half truth. They would talk, have a few drinks before she was on her knees, sucking his cock. It's funny what a small opportunity of fame can do to people.
He was here again tonight but this time he heard a voice that was quite soft and very unexpected in a place like this. He downed his whiskey that left his throat slightly burning before turning on the barstool to see a young voluptuous girl performing with a guitar. She looked so innocent as she plucked the strings and hit all the right notes.
Josh watched her, taking in every small movement of hers. Eventually she gave her name and got up and left from her small set, heading towards the back of the bar.
Josh continued to watch her in the dim light, wondering if he should approach her. He ordered another drink and thought about it.
-----------
Looking to make this a long term and detailed story stretching over quite sometime throughout the career of Katy Perry. Going from her struggling beginnings as she is degraded and forced to do thing she would rather not to her super stardom. The starter can be changed to something else. Very much open to a different celebrity from my list.
Through the rickety door of the bar, there was some bustling as there truckers, regulars, and girl groups chattered and contributed to the bar’s nightlife. There were men who roared laughing about stories and jokes they shared with each other, while some others tried their luck to hit on the girls while receiving giggles and condescending playful comments in return.
All the meanwhile, Katheryn sat on a stool at the back of the dive bar. A lone light shone down on her as she strum at her guitar and sang into the shitty microphone. She tried to ignore the waitress shouting at the bartender, the two truckers heckling her as they played pool, and just focused on the music. She closed her eyes, willed away the distractions and sang, and tried to pretend she didn’t feel like throwing up from her nerves.
She had on a pair of tight faded blue jeans and a peach colored blouse. Her raven hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had on the wispiest hint of makeup. She sat uncomfortably on her stool as she continuously tried her best to focus internally on her voice, music, and channeling her emotions into her music.
There was a smattering of applause as the final notes of her last song rang through the bar and died. Soon, however, everyone continued with what they were doing, again ignoring Katheryn presence.
She shyly cleared her throat and tried to smile as she almost whispered into the mic, “Ummm...thank you. I’m Katheryn Hudson. Have a great night.”
Then she got up and hurriedly rushed off stage, inconspicuously making way over to the bar.
Josh sat in this dump of a bar, a man of his prestigious job usually wouldn't be in a lowly place like this but sometimes he would come to this place even if it did leave an awful stench on his expensive suits. It was convenient and the place did have some strong drinks.
One of the main reasons he would go to these shady bars would be to spot any young attractive women, he would approach them and introduce himself as an agent to the stars, which was a half truth. They would talk, have a few drinks before she was on her knees, sucking his cock. It's funny what a small opportunity of fame can do to people.
He was here again tonight but this time he heard a voice that was quite soft and very unexpected in a place like this. He downed his whiskey that left his throat slightly burning before turning on the barstool to see a young voluptuous girl performing with a guitar. She looked so innocent as she plucked the strings and hit all the right notes.
Josh watched her, taking in every small movement of hers. Eventually she gave her name and got up and left from her small set, heading towards the back of the bar.
Josh continued to watch her in the dim light, wondering if he should approach her. He ordered another drink and thought about it.
-----------
Looking to make this a long term and detailed story stretching over quite sometime throughout the career of Katy Perry. Going from her struggling beginnings as she is degraded and forced to do thing she would rather not to her super stardom. The starter can be changed to something else. Very much open to a different celebrity from my list.
Billie Eilish had risen to global prominence practically overnight, while it was in reality over the course of a couple years, her career had become one of the most watched, gossiped and talked about in the modern age. When people argued that the big music labels and industry was dying and outdated, she had been the outlier that proved that big industry still had its finger on the pulse. That record labels and execs knew how to take a young teenage singer-songwriter and properly foster the talent into a global phenomenon with her first album topping the charts in several continents. Selling out arenas globally, and getting high-tier billing on major festivals like Cochella, and Bonnaroo everything seemed like she was unstoppable. Then again, half of the initial buzz and gossip surrounding her epic rise to the world stage was she was an 'industry plant'. The notion that she was essential hand crafted by talent reps and record execs to create the next massive alt pop star. There was some evidence to that, but the tabloids always over exaggerated things for their sake, to sell clicks and magazines. Yes, her parents were life-long music industry executives. Also true, her older brother was a multi-award winning pop singer/producer who had a heavy hand in crafting her ethereal signature sound. Those were certainly big factors to Billie's immense success, but they always tried to down-play those elements as Billie's own style and aesthetics what many considered to be the key to her success.
It's always amazing when any single performer has such a meteoric rise into the upper echelon of the modern music world. When you're hanging out around the titans of the industry, you're going to get a lot of attention both good and bad. The media hype surrounding Billie while majority all positive, there was a small fraction that jumped looking for the worst take to stir up drama. It didn't affect Billie or her family all that much, but it was an nuisance to occasionally go on the record denying or correcting some of their more outrageous claims. Some journalists claimed 'they' weren't going to let Billie have a normal life until she was crowned The Queen of Modern Pop, stepping on the progress over other's careers like Lana Del Ray, or Lady Gaga. Other tabloids liked to make absurd claims of her mental health, potential drug habits, and bold assumptions on her sexual life. The latter being something that was starting to stick and gain more traction. That speculation coming from her baggy, ill-fitting attire, that she doesn't want her body being displayed. Others took that info, paired with her macabre music videos and style assuming that she would HAVE to be a freak in the sheets. While the publicists who managed the teen-star had no problems defending other ridiculous claims, this topic was slightly more more sensitive. If you overreact, you can easily make the situation and perception worse--they leaned towards the option of no comment. The same stories would get reprinted several times a year, stirring the pot looking for a reaction.
That nonsense didn't matter since, Billie was starting her massive When We All Fall Asleep World Tour she didn't the time to pay that gossip any attention. She was riding a wave of global fame, and she was on the top of the world. As that tour of sold-out arenas went all without a hitch, her and managers recorded 3 new singles that would drop as she started the different legs of the tour...and they ran into their first few bump in her career. The first single was released to a very lack-luster response from fans, which they didn't think much of. The song took some risks on the melody and the overall tone, nothing unusual though. With the 2nd, and 3rd singles releasing getting an even more hostile response from her fan-base. The third single flopping the hardest, having a strong 4/1 dislike ratio on YouTube, and crowds falling eerily silent when performed live. It was clear how unpopular it was. Her tour finished off without a hitch aside from those songs, but when she got back to L.A. Billie's main manager at Interscope Records, Dennis Wilbert had requested a meeting with her and the CEO of the label, Eric Dormer the following Monday about the fan response from the latest single to ensure 'everyone was on the same wavelength'.
The day of the meeting, Mr. Dormer sat on a phone call in his lavished office, in the back of Interscope Records waiting for the young star to arrive to personally pitch their 'master plan' to turn her into THE biggest Alt Pop star the world has ever known. It was the same story of any sort of corporate greed, where great money isn't good enough. If you can leverage something for more profits, then it's the company's fiscal responsibility to do so, if any of their 'assets' could be better utilized. The CEO stood 6'2" tall, bald headed with broad shoulders, and a barrel chest, with a beer belly to match it, weighing just over 300 lbs, he was a massive mountain of a man. Dressing in a baby blue tailored shirt with his sleeves rolled up, tucked into his designer royal blue slacks, he with purple-tinted alligator shoes to complete his look, as he finalized payments over the phone before the meeting started. This diabolic master plan he was concocting was his personal doing, he was doing the mental math on if it was even feasible. The more he pondered it, the more realistic it started to seem--it's still a long shot and a risk. Career ending even, if it sent sideways completely and he was exposed...but it was a risk he embraced, and was more than willing to take. He was confident he could pull it off, as long as she agreed to go into this willingly. Her initial compliance was the make or break moment, once the ball got rolling it would be easy to keep things where he wanted.
Her long-time manager Dennis he been approached by Eric aggressively suggesting that they needed to take this course of action to ensure that Billie's career momentum wouldn't be harmed. While Dennis didn't see or get this point, but the CEO didn't drop the conversation until Dennis had perfectly understood his vision, and how he was crucial to all of it. Dennis' patience had been wearing thin, when agreed to set up the meeting. Dennis still didn't think it was a spectacular idea all that much, but he figured Eilish would put her foot down if she didn't approve of the same outline he had just been presented. Maybe she'd see his point of view? It was her decision to make not his at the end of the day, or so he had been told. He tried to put his foot down against Mr. Dormer, but he wasn't really taking 'No' for an answer, at least not from him. Trying to avoid getting into an argument with his boss' boss, he simply folded from his increasing agitation when he tried to refuse.
Dennis, a tall and slender man, in his mid 40s, with brushed back mid-length hair with sharp facial features; dull frown lines in his face, he looked his age despite being in better shape. He dressed well, a grey button-up shirt tucked into his black pants, with a platinum links on his left wrist, and his white-gold wedding band on his right ring finger. As he paced back and forth outside the main entrance smoking his Camel crushes, as he mentally mulled over the details of the contract he'd seen. He knew what the CEO had in mind exactly, it was perverse and degregating to put it lightly...it wasn't anything complex to figure out, but just because he didn't like the look of it wouldn't work. Pulling out his phone checking the time, it was 15 'til 1 o'clock, as he her manager ashed his cigarette into the ash tray, waiting for Billie to pull up any minute.
----------------
Billie sighed as she entered the large building, it was bringing back memories from about when she was in a familiar process, going to meetings with labels after her songs she released on sound cloud caught a lot of attention along with her follow up EP.
But things were a bit different now for Billie, her latest album had flopped pretty badly and the label she had signed the deal with already wanted to have a big talk about things. She had made them so much money in her first year that they had the audacity to just want to negotiate things. Billie still had the same agent though and he believed in her very much and didn't write her off yet.
It was only a few minutes before the meeting when Billie arrived to see her manager Dennis outside of the doors to office where the meeting would take place. He didn't exactly look the most calm either.
"Hey man, we ready to do this shit?" Billie said, trying to boost an air of confidence even though she also felt a little nervous too.
There was something old fashioned about Dormer's office that anyone with a taste for refinement and simpler times could appreciate. It made it all the more appalling when a neon couch calling itself a teenaged girl crashed through the aesthetic like a lime-green wrecking ball. Although the truth was, wrecking balls had urgency and purpose in a way that the shapeless slouch rolling in at 12:55 didn't seem to from door-to-chair. The fact that she had been more than punctual was the only indication at all that his one o' clock wasn't going to simply take his time and stretch it out until it was good and thoroughly wasted. Then again, album sales suggested a somewhat different side to that coin.
What you were going to get with Billie was like that quote about boxes of chocolates she was too young to recognize (don't judge; it's not like an old fart would get any references she did understand, or at least that's what most of the people who never sat down and talked with her might have assumed). "Hey," she greeted about as formally as she could as she took a seat, the billowing pillow-sacks of her Jolly Rancher Apple hued ensemble moving around her like she was going to be entirely swallowed up by the cloth. It co-ordinated with her hair and with her nails, but seemed to otherwise conform with nothing at all that resembled anything like fashion girls her age were usually wearing.
And that was both the success and the problem for the seventeen year old wunderkind, wasn't it?
It wasn't all that often that she met directly and alone with the money people, because she still wasn't used to the money people. She didn't even really like the money people all that much. Finneas was just way better with all this crap than she was, quite frankly. If he could have handled all of the business aspects entirely while she just got to bounce around and make music, she would've been happier than a kid in a candy store picking out apple-flavored Jolly Ranchers. Alas; this was one of those big-girl moments she was expected to do herself, from the sound of things.
There was a lady-like way to sit. Billie sat with her knees wide apart, her shoulders slumped forward, and her hands dangling down in front of her like she was being affected by Earth's gravity in a way she couldn't entirely fight off. Finishing school, posture classes, high fashion -- you weren't going to get any of those things in a client like her. Nor were you going to avoid sophomore slumps alongside her actual slumps, from the way things were looking. She toed the line between a girl who had no idea why she was here and one who totally understood that she was about to get detention which .. probably was something more than one teacher had seen from her before.
"I like your office," she said brightly, the compliment cutting through the slight burr of her voice in a way that was sincere (whether her natural delivery helped it seem that way or not). She dug that vibe of it and how very lavish it was.
----------
So I'm looking to explore the world of Hollywood and it's dark depths of what happens behind closed doors to the famous starlets that are forced and controlled and the issues that can also be caused from addictions, abuse and the pressures of the life.
I'm a big fan of Billie Eilish and would love to explore this specific idea with her in particular. We can tweak a bit of the timeline of her career already and choose where we want this to start off or alter some aspects.
Happy for this to get quite dark and looking to hear peoples ideas for scenarios, characters and story lines.
Very much fond of Billie but can also use a different celebrity.
It's always amazing when any single performer has such a meteoric rise into the upper echelon of the modern music world. When you're hanging out around the titans of the industry, you're going to get a lot of attention both good and bad. The media hype surrounding Billie while majority all positive, there was a small fraction that jumped looking for the worst take to stir up drama. It didn't affect Billie or her family all that much, but it was an nuisance to occasionally go on the record denying or correcting some of their more outrageous claims. Some journalists claimed 'they' weren't going to let Billie have a normal life until she was crowned The Queen of Modern Pop, stepping on the progress over other's careers like Lana Del Ray, or Lady Gaga. Other tabloids liked to make absurd claims of her mental health, potential drug habits, and bold assumptions on her sexual life. The latter being something that was starting to stick and gain more traction. That speculation coming from her baggy, ill-fitting attire, that she doesn't want her body being displayed. Others took that info, paired with her macabre music videos and style assuming that she would HAVE to be a freak in the sheets. While the publicists who managed the teen-star had no problems defending other ridiculous claims, this topic was slightly more more sensitive. If you overreact, you can easily make the situation and perception worse--they leaned towards the option of no comment. The same stories would get reprinted several times a year, stirring the pot looking for a reaction.
That nonsense didn't matter since, Billie was starting her massive When We All Fall Asleep World Tour she didn't the time to pay that gossip any attention. She was riding a wave of global fame, and she was on the top of the world. As that tour of sold-out arenas went all without a hitch, her and managers recorded 3 new singles that would drop as she started the different legs of the tour...and they ran into their first few bump in her career. The first single was released to a very lack-luster response from fans, which they didn't think much of. The song took some risks on the melody and the overall tone, nothing unusual though. With the 2nd, and 3rd singles releasing getting an even more hostile response from her fan-base. The third single flopping the hardest, having a strong 4/1 dislike ratio on YouTube, and crowds falling eerily silent when performed live. It was clear how unpopular it was. Her tour finished off without a hitch aside from those songs, but when she got back to L.A. Billie's main manager at Interscope Records, Dennis Wilbert had requested a meeting with her and the CEO of the label, Eric Dormer the following Monday about the fan response from the latest single to ensure 'everyone was on the same wavelength'.
The day of the meeting, Mr. Dormer sat on a phone call in his lavished office, in the back of Interscope Records waiting for the young star to arrive to personally pitch their 'master plan' to turn her into THE biggest Alt Pop star the world has ever known. It was the same story of any sort of corporate greed, where great money isn't good enough. If you can leverage something for more profits, then it's the company's fiscal responsibility to do so, if any of their 'assets' could be better utilized. The CEO stood 6'2" tall, bald headed with broad shoulders, and a barrel chest, with a beer belly to match it, weighing just over 300 lbs, he was a massive mountain of a man. Dressing in a baby blue tailored shirt with his sleeves rolled up, tucked into his designer royal blue slacks, he with purple-tinted alligator shoes to complete his look, as he finalized payments over the phone before the meeting started. This diabolic master plan he was concocting was his personal doing, he was doing the mental math on if it was even feasible. The more he pondered it, the more realistic it started to seem--it's still a long shot and a risk. Career ending even, if it sent sideways completely and he was exposed...but it was a risk he embraced, and was more than willing to take. He was confident he could pull it off, as long as she agreed to go into this willingly. Her initial compliance was the make or break moment, once the ball got rolling it would be easy to keep things where he wanted.
Her long-time manager Dennis he been approached by Eric aggressively suggesting that they needed to take this course of action to ensure that Billie's career momentum wouldn't be harmed. While Dennis didn't see or get this point, but the CEO didn't drop the conversation until Dennis had perfectly understood his vision, and how he was crucial to all of it. Dennis' patience had been wearing thin, when agreed to set up the meeting. Dennis still didn't think it was a spectacular idea all that much, but he figured Eilish would put her foot down if she didn't approve of the same outline he had just been presented. Maybe she'd see his point of view? It was her decision to make not his at the end of the day, or so he had been told. He tried to put his foot down against Mr. Dormer, but he wasn't really taking 'No' for an answer, at least not from him. Trying to avoid getting into an argument with his boss' boss, he simply folded from his increasing agitation when he tried to refuse.
Dennis, a tall and slender man, in his mid 40s, with brushed back mid-length hair with sharp facial features; dull frown lines in his face, he looked his age despite being in better shape. He dressed well, a grey button-up shirt tucked into his black pants, with a platinum links on his left wrist, and his white-gold wedding band on his right ring finger. As he paced back and forth outside the main entrance smoking his Camel crushes, as he mentally mulled over the details of the contract he'd seen. He knew what the CEO had in mind exactly, it was perverse and degregating to put it lightly...it wasn't anything complex to figure out, but just because he didn't like the look of it wouldn't work. Pulling out his phone checking the time, it was 15 'til 1 o'clock, as he her manager ashed his cigarette into the ash tray, waiting for Billie to pull up any minute.
----------------
Billie sighed as she entered the large building, it was bringing back memories from about when she was in a familiar process, going to meetings with labels after her songs she released on sound cloud caught a lot of attention along with her follow up EP.
But things were a bit different now for Billie, her latest album had flopped pretty badly and the label she had signed the deal with already wanted to have a big talk about things. She had made them so much money in her first year that they had the audacity to just want to negotiate things. Billie still had the same agent though and he believed in her very much and didn't write her off yet.
It was only a few minutes before the meeting when Billie arrived to see her manager Dennis outside of the doors to office where the meeting would take place. He didn't exactly look the most calm either.
"Hey man, we ready to do this shit?" Billie said, trying to boost an air of confidence even though she also felt a little nervous too.
There was something old fashioned about Dormer's office that anyone with a taste for refinement and simpler times could appreciate. It made it all the more appalling when a neon couch calling itself a teenaged girl crashed through the aesthetic like a lime-green wrecking ball. Although the truth was, wrecking balls had urgency and purpose in a way that the shapeless slouch rolling in at 12:55 didn't seem to from door-to-chair. The fact that she had been more than punctual was the only indication at all that his one o' clock wasn't going to simply take his time and stretch it out until it was good and thoroughly wasted. Then again, album sales suggested a somewhat different side to that coin.
What you were going to get with Billie was like that quote about boxes of chocolates she was too young to recognize (don't judge; it's not like an old fart would get any references she did understand, or at least that's what most of the people who never sat down and talked with her might have assumed). "Hey," she greeted about as formally as she could as she took a seat, the billowing pillow-sacks of her Jolly Rancher Apple hued ensemble moving around her like she was going to be entirely swallowed up by the cloth. It co-ordinated with her hair and with her nails, but seemed to otherwise conform with nothing at all that resembled anything like fashion girls her age were usually wearing.
And that was both the success and the problem for the seventeen year old wunderkind, wasn't it?
It wasn't all that often that she met directly and alone with the money people, because she still wasn't used to the money people. She didn't even really like the money people all that much. Finneas was just way better with all this crap than she was, quite frankly. If he could have handled all of the business aspects entirely while she just got to bounce around and make music, she would've been happier than a kid in a candy store picking out apple-flavored Jolly Ranchers. Alas; this was one of those big-girl moments she was expected to do herself, from the sound of things.
There was a lady-like way to sit. Billie sat with her knees wide apart, her shoulders slumped forward, and her hands dangling down in front of her like she was being affected by Earth's gravity in a way she couldn't entirely fight off. Finishing school, posture classes, high fashion -- you weren't going to get any of those things in a client like her. Nor were you going to avoid sophomore slumps alongside her actual slumps, from the way things were looking. She toed the line between a girl who had no idea why she was here and one who totally understood that she was about to get detention which .. probably was something more than one teacher had seen from her before.
"I like your office," she said brightly, the compliment cutting through the slight burr of her voice in a way that was sincere (whether her natural delivery helped it seem that way or not). She dug that vibe of it and how very lavish it was.
----------
So I'm looking to explore the world of Hollywood and it's dark depths of what happens behind closed doors to the famous starlets that are forced and controlled and the issues that can also be caused from addictions, abuse and the pressures of the life.
I'm a big fan of Billie Eilish and would love to explore this specific idea with her in particular. We can tweak a bit of the timeline of her career already and choose where we want this to start off or alter some aspects.
Happy for this to get quite dark and looking to hear peoples ideas for scenarios, characters and story lines.
Very much fond of Billie but can also use a different celebrity.
Ariana Kellers was used to getting what she wanted. Being pretty and rich didn't exactly make her life any harder. She grew up in the wealth of her father's company, she'd always gone to the best schools, the best places to shop, the best clubs, the best drinks and drugs. The young socialite and model wasn't exactly used to hearing the term compromise. Well, until now.
After hosting a party for her 22nd birthday party that had gotten a little out of hand, her father had been more focused on her. She wasn't popular in his opinion when she started dating a slightly famous actor with a well-known drug habit. The whole thing ended very chaotically and he didn't cope very well with her ending things between them. After a while of him stalking her, Ariana finally went to her father, asking for help.
At first, he'd been furious with her. He hadn't approved from the beginning and now this - of course, he had been right the whole time. Urgh.
Then he'd come up with a solution to her problem (and, Ari thought, a way to make sure she was behaving): She was getting a bodyguard. Of course she'd blankly refused, but when daddy Kellers threatened to cut her off and take away that sweet penthouse apartment he'd so generously given her, the young socialite couldn't refuse. No matter how little she wanted her privacy to be invaded by some old, stinky bodyguard all day.
Well, on that note she had been admittedly wrong.
The man that was now living in her spare bedroom was not old nor stinky. Actually he smelled quite nice - one of the only things, Ariana actually liked about him. His looks weren't too bad either. Tall, muscular and intense brown eyes.
But seriously, that man was such a jerk. Every little remark from him could get her blood boiling from anger. It was clear that he didn't exactly like the idea of working with some 22 year old, spoiled brat. Ariana knew she hadn't exactly given him the best expression of herself, that was fully on purpose. In all honesty the girl had been expecting to annoy him into quitting within the first few days. Now it'd been a week.
A week of him living in her apartment...A week of him following her around everywhere she went...A week of low key taunting each other.
Her father had to be paying good money.
It was more than clear that the two didn't exactly get along, but they hadn't actually been in a fight yet, only low key bickering. She had tried her best though, wanting to let out some frustrations on him, but somehow he was always too controlled. That didn't stop her from trying though.
Today was no exception.
She wore a long sweatshirt with thigh-high boots and straightened her long hair over her shoulder. She checked over her makeup once more in the mirror before grabbing her purse and stepping out of her room. "I hope you're ready because I'm leaving with or without you," she called out into the apartment for Derek strolling past the living room and kitchen to the elevator clicking the button for the door to open. "Oh look, times up I'm leaving!" She called once more stepping into the elevator.
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So I guess overall what I'd mainly like for the socialite brat. A young, bratty, daddy's girl that is a socialite, nothing too big or famous, just a little notable. She has this boyfriend that she's just mainly using him for clout since he's rather notable and has some connections, apart from that he's a dick and not a great guy. I'm thinking she's tasked with having a bodyguard to keep an eye her who she try to drives away but that doesn't work. I'm thinking she can be involved with one of her father's business partners, one of his rivals or a potential partner. Maybe she can fuck around with one of her boyfriend's friends too, her drug dealer, a paparazzi that gets some blackmail material, a movie star/director at the chance of something, a sugar daddy. Plenty of options and I'm open to hearing more!
I think she'll be hungry and eager for more fame, to move up in the world and do whatever it takes.
After hosting a party for her 22nd birthday party that had gotten a little out of hand, her father had been more focused on her. She wasn't popular in his opinion when she started dating a slightly famous actor with a well-known drug habit. The whole thing ended very chaotically and he didn't cope very well with her ending things between them. After a while of him stalking her, Ariana finally went to her father, asking for help.
At first, he'd been furious with her. He hadn't approved from the beginning and now this - of course, he had been right the whole time. Urgh.
Then he'd come up with a solution to her problem (and, Ari thought, a way to make sure she was behaving): She was getting a bodyguard. Of course she'd blankly refused, but when daddy Kellers threatened to cut her off and take away that sweet penthouse apartment he'd so generously given her, the young socialite couldn't refuse. No matter how little she wanted her privacy to be invaded by some old, stinky bodyguard all day.
Well, on that note she had been admittedly wrong.
The man that was now living in her spare bedroom was not old nor stinky. Actually he smelled quite nice - one of the only things, Ariana actually liked about him. His looks weren't too bad either. Tall, muscular and intense brown eyes.
But seriously, that man was such a jerk. Every little remark from him could get her blood boiling from anger. It was clear that he didn't exactly like the idea of working with some 22 year old, spoiled brat. Ariana knew she hadn't exactly given him the best expression of herself, that was fully on purpose. In all honesty the girl had been expecting to annoy him into quitting within the first few days. Now it'd been a week.
A week of him living in her apartment...A week of him following her around everywhere she went...A week of low key taunting each other.
Her father had to be paying good money.
It was more than clear that the two didn't exactly get along, but they hadn't actually been in a fight yet, only low key bickering. She had tried her best though, wanting to let out some frustrations on him, but somehow he was always too controlled. That didn't stop her from trying though.
Today was no exception.
She wore a long sweatshirt with thigh-high boots and straightened her long hair over her shoulder. She checked over her makeup once more in the mirror before grabbing her purse and stepping out of her room. "I hope you're ready because I'm leaving with or without you," she called out into the apartment for Derek strolling past the living room and kitchen to the elevator clicking the button for the door to open. "Oh look, times up I'm leaving!" She called once more stepping into the elevator.
---------
So I guess overall what I'd mainly like for the socialite brat. A young, bratty, daddy's girl that is a socialite, nothing too big or famous, just a little notable. She has this boyfriend that she's just mainly using him for clout since he's rather notable and has some connections, apart from that he's a dick and not a great guy. I'm thinking she's tasked with having a bodyguard to keep an eye her who she try to drives away but that doesn't work. I'm thinking she can be involved with one of her father's business partners, one of his rivals or a potential partner. Maybe she can fuck around with one of her boyfriend's friends too, her drug dealer, a paparazzi that gets some blackmail material, a movie star/director at the chance of something, a sugar daddy. Plenty of options and I'm open to hearing more!
I think she'll be hungry and eager for more fame, to move up in the world and do whatever it takes.
Liam Webber stood across the octagon, small droplets of blood splattered on his chest and on his white shorts. Across from him was UFC champ Kamaru Usman, the Nigerian had a large cut on his cheek and wore the majority of the damage from the last 4 rounds with bruising on his thighs and ribs. Liam on the other hand, barely had a scratch on him besides a small cut in his hairline that had come from an accidental headbutt. It had been a dominant display from the Australian in the last 20 minutes, he had used his striking to take apart the champion and stuffed his takedowns with good defense and now Liam was just 5 minutes away from being UFC champion.
At the start of the fifth round it was clear who the more energetic fighter was. Liam bounced from his corner and approached Kamaru in the middle of the octagon. He waited as Usman wandered forward before lifting his leg, feinting a kick before punching forward and just managing to catch his opponent on the end of his fist. He heard Usman grunt and decided to push forward, keeping his head bobbing as not to take punches.Liam ducked down and swung for Kamaru’s ribs, hearing a satisfying crunch as the punch connected. Usman began to fall to his knees in pain but it was yet to be over. Liam rose up from ducking and launched a kick at Usman’s head. It connected beautifully with the Nigerian’s chin, causing his body to go stiff and his eyes to roll back.Liam watched as his head smashed into the canvas, clearly KOed. The Australian could’ve followed up with more strikes however the referee stepped in, pushing Liam away from Usman before tending to the unconscious man.
The crowd in the STAPLES centre roared as Liam vaulted onto the wall of the cage, straddling on top of it and celebrating. He looked ecstatic as he roared into the crowd, muscles tensing and bulging. His team filled the cage around him and passed him the Australian flag. Tom draped it around his shoulders as he sat atop the cage, absorbing all the praise that the crowd was giving him.
Eventually he came down from the cage in order to be given the belt. Liam stood in the middle of the cage with the referee and Dana White behind him with the welterweight belt. Usman had gone to hospital as soon as he was conscious and as a result he wasn’t present as Dana wrapped the belt around Liam’s waist. The fans in the crowd were deafening as the new champion strode around the octagon, holding his belt high for all of them to see. He settled once he was pulled over by Joe Rogan for a post fight interview. Rogan asked a question which Liam ignored, he took the mic from the commentator and looked straight into the camera “Greatest of All Time right here, anyone, anyplace, anytime” He gave the mic back to Rogan and shook his hand, the crowd cheering at the statement of confidence.Liam got a quick photo with his team in the middle of the octagon, his belt proudly draped across his shoulder.
After the fight he left the arena to cheers from the crowd. Liam sauntered to the back with swagger, heading back to a changing room with the rest of his coaching team. His torso was still sprinkled with blood, as well as his tight white shorts having the occasional red splatter of blood on. He looked perfect beside the small cut in his hairline, his muscles being tensed as he breathed in and out. His team had left the door open as they’d gone to go and get drinks to celebrate in the back and as a result Liam was left alone. He sat on a seat facing the door, all alone with his belt placed at his feet. His shorts clung closely to his hips, portraying a large bulge as he drunk water and waited for his team to arrive back.
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This prompt can go in a few ways.
I am thinking that he could be either a UFC fighter, a NBA/NFL rookie, an actor or a singer. Either he is in his early career and rise of he's already established and quite famous. Also already known for a few incidents with drugs, booze and sex.
We could follow him having an initial sweet romance with another celebrity which is nice for a while but then the temptations of beautiful girls, drugs and drinking tempts him too much, he'll start to fall into a hedonistic lifestyle. Although this could also be a more dramatic romance story as well, open to many twists for this idea.
At the start of the fifth round it was clear who the more energetic fighter was. Liam bounced from his corner and approached Kamaru in the middle of the octagon. He waited as Usman wandered forward before lifting his leg, feinting a kick before punching forward and just managing to catch his opponent on the end of his fist. He heard Usman grunt and decided to push forward, keeping his head bobbing as not to take punches.Liam ducked down and swung for Kamaru’s ribs, hearing a satisfying crunch as the punch connected. Usman began to fall to his knees in pain but it was yet to be over. Liam rose up from ducking and launched a kick at Usman’s head. It connected beautifully with the Nigerian’s chin, causing his body to go stiff and his eyes to roll back.Liam watched as his head smashed into the canvas, clearly KOed. The Australian could’ve followed up with more strikes however the referee stepped in, pushing Liam away from Usman before tending to the unconscious man.
The crowd in the STAPLES centre roared as Liam vaulted onto the wall of the cage, straddling on top of it and celebrating. He looked ecstatic as he roared into the crowd, muscles tensing and bulging. His team filled the cage around him and passed him the Australian flag. Tom draped it around his shoulders as he sat atop the cage, absorbing all the praise that the crowd was giving him.
Eventually he came down from the cage in order to be given the belt. Liam stood in the middle of the cage with the referee and Dana White behind him with the welterweight belt. Usman had gone to hospital as soon as he was conscious and as a result he wasn’t present as Dana wrapped the belt around Liam’s waist. The fans in the crowd were deafening as the new champion strode around the octagon, holding his belt high for all of them to see. He settled once he was pulled over by Joe Rogan for a post fight interview. Rogan asked a question which Liam ignored, he took the mic from the commentator and looked straight into the camera “Greatest of All Time right here, anyone, anyplace, anytime” He gave the mic back to Rogan and shook his hand, the crowd cheering at the statement of confidence.Liam got a quick photo with his team in the middle of the octagon, his belt proudly draped across his shoulder.
After the fight he left the arena to cheers from the crowd. Liam sauntered to the back with swagger, heading back to a changing room with the rest of his coaching team. His torso was still sprinkled with blood, as well as his tight white shorts having the occasional red splatter of blood on. He looked perfect beside the small cut in his hairline, his muscles being tensed as he breathed in and out. His team had left the door open as they’d gone to go and get drinks to celebrate in the back and as a result Liam was left alone. He sat on a seat facing the door, all alone with his belt placed at his feet. His shorts clung closely to his hips, portraying a large bulge as he drunk water and waited for his team to arrive back.
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This prompt can go in a few ways.
I am thinking that he could be either a UFC fighter, a NBA/NFL rookie, an actor or a singer. Either he is in his early career and rise of he's already established and quite famous. Also already known for a few incidents with drugs, booze and sex.
We could follow him having an initial sweet romance with another celebrity which is nice for a while but then the temptations of beautiful girls, drugs and drinking tempts him too much, he'll start to fall into a hedonistic lifestyle. Although this could also be a more dramatic romance story as well, open to many twists for this idea.
"But is it him or not?" Ariana asked her boyfriend, exasperated. He struggles to reply, looking at the guy chatting with the man she actually want to talk to: a big fish in the industry she would swear works with a producing company close to Republic Records. She made her work last night to research the names and remember faces, and she is sure that is a guy she has to introduce herself to... but as her more experienced friends told her, it is never wise to just step into a conversation with a man of this power, without being invited. They always get rebuffed, and possibly get annoyed at that. The way to go, she was told, is to get 'introduced' by some of his aides or PAs. And her boyfriend would say that the guy laughing at the suited man's jokes is in fact, his assistant.
Ariana Grande rolled her eyes at his doubts and decided to jump on the shark the moment she saw him leave the side of the man with empty glasses, to the bar. She clacked her heels on the floor, following him and casually leaning on the bar next to him, pretending to order a drink, but faking having seen him before.
"Hey, aren't you working for Republic Records or something...? you guys just made the last Katy Perry album, right?" She asks, all smiley, facing him and hoping that the cute look she had would help... despite her inexperience, age and the presence of way more sexier women in the room...
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So I'd like this to be a long term idea, the celebrirty like change but I do love Ariana Grande. We could start with Ariana in 2012, when Victorious ended, and her attending parties and galas to try entice a producer to foot the bill of her plans as she wants to move into the music industry since her Nickelodeon show has now finished. We can also follow how she gets transformed to the sex doll she is in her videos today, with the schoolgirl uniform and all
as well as how she has to enternain friends of the man that has her contract. Along with addictions forming due to the lifestyle and how she is being used and controlled
Ariana Grande rolled her eyes at his doubts and decided to jump on the shark the moment she saw him leave the side of the man with empty glasses, to the bar. She clacked her heels on the floor, following him and casually leaning on the bar next to him, pretending to order a drink, but faking having seen him before.
"Hey, aren't you working for Republic Records or something...? you guys just made the last Katy Perry album, right?" She asks, all smiley, facing him and hoping that the cute look she had would help... despite her inexperience, age and the presence of way more sexier women in the room...
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So I'd like this to be a long term idea, the celebrirty like change but I do love Ariana Grande. We could start with Ariana in 2012, when Victorious ended, and her attending parties and galas to try entice a producer to foot the bill of her plans as she wants to move into the music industry since her Nickelodeon show has now finished. We can also follow how she gets transformed to the sex doll she is in her videos today, with the schoolgirl uniform and all
as well as how she has to enternain friends of the man that has her contract. Along with addictions forming due to the lifestyle and how she is being used and controlled
Also, I'm equally down to explore some different celebrity stories as well.
Down for a celebrity either in the beginning of their career or hitting a slump. Being forced into a contract where they lose basic rights and control.
Someone getting very handy blackmail material of a celebrity.
Perhaps a relationship with a bad boy that descends them both into a downward spiral of addictions to sex, drugs, drinking, money.
A rich, bratty socialite desperate to try and become famous and popular.
I'm down for more celebrity ideas if you got them
My Celebrirty list -
Main cravings
Billie Eilish, Katy Perry, Ariana Grande, Scarlett Johansson, Ana De Armas, Kylie Jenner,
Others
Margot Robbie, Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, Kendall Jenner, Alison Brie, Kat Dennings, Megan Fox, Iggy Azalea, Amber Heard, Kiernan Shipka, Natalie Dormer, Sophie Turner, Emma Stone, Emma Roberts, Emily Ratajkowski, Halsey, Jessica Alba
Final Words
So thank ya for checking out this thread and if you're down for an intriguing roleplay along with some quality banter OOC, well I'm ya guy. I also have discord that I can use. So feel free to message me and let's strike something up.
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