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.
Plots & Pairings
So this won't have any detailed plots initially but I'll list some basic plots, characters, themes, settings, etc that do interest me the most, a little word bank of sorts. More to come in this area.
Modern, angst, school, workplace, damaged, broken, addictions, cheating, complications, guilt, infidelity, exes, bad characters, romance, toxic relationships, blackmail, corruption, love, celebrity, rebel, alternative, seduction, abuse, rough, post apocalyptic worlds, following a young broken emo type girl, following a rich bratty type girl.
Some fun fandom worlds to explore and play in: Mass Effect, The Witcher, Dragon Age, Elder Scrolls, Divinity Original Sin, BioShock, Borderlands, Fallout, Last of Us
Below are some of my older prompts, you may of seen them on a different account of mine. None of them are set in stone and are very much open to be tweaked and changed around.
---------------
Main Craving
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nd barely managing to scrap by while Lucy has some... Issues.[/SPOILER]
Random Ideas:
- A random thought I've had lately could be a couple being a bit tight on money during college, or maybe it's just the girl. They together start doing some homemade amateur OnlyFans type porn to pay the bills. Or if it's just the girl she can look into some local porn around. This could turn interesting when classmates recognize her or even a teacher.
- Following the life of a young alternative type girl and all the naughty things she gets up to or all the dark things that occur to her.
- A married Psychologist being seduced by his femme fatale type client. Could also be substituted to an office pairing or school setting.
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.
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.
Plots & Pairings
So this won't have any detailed plots initially but I'll list some basic plots, characters, themes, settings, etc that do interest me the most, a little word bank of sorts. More to come in this area.
Modern, angst, school, workplace, damaged, broken, addictions, cheating, complications, guilt, infidelity, exes, bad characters, romance, toxic relationships, blackmail, corruption, love, celebrity, rebel, alternative, seduction, abuse, rough, post apocalyptic worlds, following a young broken emo type girl, following a rich bratty type girl.
Some fun fandom worlds to explore and play in: Mass Effect, The Witcher, Dragon Age, Elder Scrolls, Divinity Original Sin, BioShock, Borderlands, Fallout, Last of Us
Below are some of my older prompts, you may of seen them on a different account of mine. None of them are set in stone and are very much open to be tweaked and changed around.
---------------
Main Craving
Damaged Town
In truth, Liam had grown a little bored with the party not long after he had gotten there. The music was loud but it was the typical music that one heard at such parties and he didn’t feel like dancing to the typical generic pop that was on. Most of the people there were already drunk and acting stupid, trying to get into fights, daring people to drink more, trying to find a girl to fuck. Which made sense at most parties, it was a party filled with mostly high schoolers and that made his job of selling them drugs all the more easier. In truth the only thing that did appeal in the house was the vast quantities of alcohol that had been put out and the fine young women that were catching his eye. He wasn't sure what number of drinks he was up to now, carrying around an expensive bottle of whiskey that he had taken from some kid that was so wasted out of his mind he didn't even notice. He was making his way through the house, simply observing the people around him. He noticed that people outside had got the fire pit started up.
He had lost his friends early on in the night. Coming to this party had been their idea, though most nights Liam found himself enjoying the nightlife in the south side of town. For him and his mates it was all about slumming, Something about lowering themselves to a social level that they viewed as lower than even them, drinking with them, and otherwise making fools of themselves seemed to satisfy something in them that they perceived as unfulfilled, as though rebelling against the usual norms and expectations by acting as such was a missing piece to a puzzle for them.
For Liam however it was a bit complex. He wasn’t sure if he was looking to fill some incomplete part of himself. Or if he was purely addicted to this lifestyle now, the drinking, the drugs, the money and the girls. He enjoyed it. At places like this, no one really knew him or his past, or anything about him really… he was free to be wild and do whatever he wanted. Things were a lot less complicated when he was doing this stuff.
The night was just cool enough to be comfortable with his attire. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans that had multiple rips through them, a regular black t-shirt that fitted tightly enough to showcase his lean and muscular frame while also showing his tattooed arms. A thick pair of black combat boots were also worn, giving his already tall frame a couple more inches. He had a nostril ring piercing along with his ears gauged but not to an extreme size, the jewellery also was in black, suiting his entire aesthetic.
He made his way outside for a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He knew it was a bad habit but in truth… he didn’t care enough not to do it. His entire life was one big bad habit.
He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was kept in place in his slicked back undercut before he pulled a lighter from his pocket, he lit the cigarette as he approached the fire, standing over it, feeling the heat of the flames against his face as he took a drag from the cigarette and let out the smoke before looking over at one of the girls that was sitting there which he gave a soft smile, noticing her colourfully dyed hair.
"Enjoying your night?" He asked.
---
Billie was not born into an easy life. She was a trailer park girl growing up that moved more frequently than she remember since she was a little girl. Little did she know that was generally due to her Dad constantly relocating to evade the police. He was a marijuana grower by trade, and he made a great amount of money selling it to street dealers who did the foot work for him. That would all drastically change one night when her dad finally got busted, and after getting a lengthy sentencing based on how many plants were found and various other charges that were stacked up..off to prison he went. She was about 6 when they took him, and she had not seen him since.
Her mother wasn't exactly that much better. She cared and looked out for Billie, but she also got caught up in her bi-polar disorder and chasing dick more than she chased a stable environment for her daughter. It was far too frequently that Billie would be taking care of herself by the age of 8 when her mother was either working her late night waitressing job or when her mom would get too drunk and high...passing out and leaving Billie to fend for herself. She was growing up fast....way too fast for her personality and brain to develop in the way it probably should have. To make matters worse, she was gorgeous, and the types of men her mother attracted were not always the greatest of people. Sure, her mom would meet a few decent guys that showed Billie how to take care of herself a little better, but those were far and few between and her mom's relationships never lasted. The good guys her mom met left an impression, but it was the bad ones that would overshadow and develop Billie's personality.
She lost her virginity to one of her moms boyfriends one late night when he was drunk and her mom was passed out, and it was definitely not a consensual thing. She was almost 11 when she was deflowered, her cries and squeals falling on deaf ears of her mom that was completely passed out in the next room. Billie cried herself to sleep that night, and it wouldn't be the last time she was violated. Her mom did find out rather quickly about what her then boyfriend did to her daughter, and he was promptly broken up with, but nothing else was done about it. The man just got away with it when her mom never reported anything and just told Billie to keep it to herself for fear of police getting involved in their life again.
It wouldn't be the last time though her mom would bring some lowlife home that would hang around for a while. On several more occasions Billie was violated once mommy was passed out again, and eventually Billie just started keeping her mouth shut about it. Subconsciously the sexual abuse, the physical abuse, the lack of supervision, the desperation for real attention and the inherited bi-polar disorder was shaping Billie into a confused messed up teenager. By 14 she had already had sex with a few men, all of them too old for her. It was during those years that one of her moms recent ex-boyfriends would come over to the trailer at night to watch porn with her...and have sex. This guy had a thing for cumshots, and with his young impressionable toy he found in his ex-girlfriends daughter, it wasn't too hard to train her into a facial taker and a cum swallower. Between the acts in porn and an older man's agenda to unload his balls on this 14 year old, it wasn't long before Billie just assumed it was part of the process when any other girl her age and older would find it disgusting. It was nasty at first, but she learned to tolerate it.
She was confused, already breaking mentally and needed help out of a hopeless situation. Things finally took a turn for the better, once her Aunt found out about a lot of the things that were going on, but much damage had already been done. Billie's aunt got her out of her moms house and moved her to another state, but so much damage had already been done. She was smoking pot to ease the pain she didn't even know she had, floating through life, getting tattoos, piercings....and still having sex with men that she shouldn't be, like her tattoo artist that was trading her free tattoos for pussy.
.
Billie was freshly 17 now, had no contact with either of her parents and as confused as a teen could be from her experiences growing up. One thing was certain though, she was hot, with an incredible body that most girls her age would kill to have. She did have a large set of breasts that were far more developed than practically all other girls her age along with it she had a killer ass, flat stomach, pretty face and a wicked attitude. She was certainly one of the tougher girls in school, but inside she was just a broken damaged little girl still. Billie didn't exactly fit in with any particular social group at school, which landed herself as being part of the outcasts and freaks. Nobody dared mess with her though, at least...not since she beat the hell out of Angela AND Tina (two of the head cheerleaders) after school one day for talking shit about her. That event was definitely the day she got instant respect around the school, the detention she got was minor in comparison. She was a D student at best, not because she was dumb, but she had such a hard time paying attention and retaining book knowledge. She was fairly street smart, but that didn't pass tests. She had been placed on medications multiple times and had multiple counselors, but she never took her meds and she stopped meeting with her "shrinks that were pointless"....as she liked to put it. Her aunt couldn't control her, and really didn't even know how to with Billie frequently sneaking off and going for rides with biker guys she would meet. The only thing her aunt was able to do was force a birth control implant on her, Billie couldn't be counted on taking medication, and with her tendencies to sneak out her aunt did what she could do to protect from an unplanned pregnancy. All in all, Billie didn't fully realize how messed up she really was.
--------------
Saturday night, it was the typical night most high school hours parties were thrown and this weekend was no different. This was a particularly large party that attracted kids from nearly all social groups at school, and Billie was not one to miss a party very often. It was the weekend, so Billie and a few of her friends that were notably hotter "outcasts" got the text message a party was going down, making their way to the address that came into the house, mingled a bit and had a few drinks. While Billie's friends stayed inside, she took a break from the loud noises of party goers that tended to give her anxiety after a while and went outside towards the firepit that was lit in the backyard. Taking a seat by herself near the fire, she wore an extremely short black skirt that night, a red thong, matching small lace bra, a blue spaghetti strap tank top and heels. Her skirt hiked up as she crossed her legs and sat on cheap lawn chair that was set up, a skirt so short that if anybody was to look at the right angle there would be just a hint of red panties on display, despite her legs being crossed. Her tattooes were all mostly visible, along with her blue hair that was down.
Billie sat alone for at least 10 minutes, getting lost in the back of her mind where her past, present and future all swirled together in a confusing mess of thoughts. To her, her mind was blank, but her damaged messy subconscious was turning and doing flip flops. That's when she heard some guy address her, and ask her if she was enjoying her night. She glanced up, snapping out of her trance...when did this guy even get here? She had not even noticed anybody walk up.
Holy....shit.....this guy was HOT. Tattooes everywhere and with aura of bad boy to him, perfect for her. Billie's eyes focused on him and she smiled. "hey..." she said, still wondering where the hell he came from even though he walked up plainly towards here to light a cigarette.
"The nights pretty good, I mean...for a jock party..." she giggled a little, staring at the fire as it flickered before her, she looked back at this stud who was standing a few feet away and adjusted herself to face him a little more "hey...you got an extra cigarette on you?" she said with a mischievous smile on her as she scanned over this guy.
In truth, Liam had grown a little bored with the party not long after he had gotten there. The music was loud but it was the typical music that one heard at such parties and he didn’t feel like dancing to the typical generic pop that was on. Most of the people there were already drunk and acting stupid, trying to get into fights, daring people to drink more, trying to find a girl to fuck. Which made sense at most parties, it was a party filled with mostly high schoolers and that made his job of selling them drugs all the more easier. In truth the only thing that did appeal in the house was the vast quantities of alcohol that had been put out and the fine young women that were catching his eye. He wasn't sure what number of drinks he was up to now, carrying around an expensive bottle of whiskey that he had taken from some kid that was so wasted out of his mind he didn't even notice. He was making his way through the house, simply observing the people around him. He noticed that people outside had got the fire pit started up.
He had lost his friends early on in the night. Coming to this party had been their idea, though most nights Liam found himself enjoying the nightlife in the south side of town. For him and his mates it was all about slumming, Something about lowering themselves to a social level that they viewed as lower than even them, drinking with them, and otherwise making fools of themselves seemed to satisfy something in them that they perceived as unfulfilled, as though rebelling against the usual norms and expectations by acting as such was a missing piece to a puzzle for them.
For Liam however it was a bit complex. He wasn’t sure if he was looking to fill some incomplete part of himself. Or if he was purely addicted to this lifestyle now, the drinking, the drugs, the money and the girls. He enjoyed it. At places like this, no one really knew him or his past, or anything about him really… he was free to be wild and do whatever he wanted. Things were a lot less complicated when he was doing this stuff.
The night was just cool enough to be comfortable with his attire. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans that had multiple rips through them, a regular black t-shirt that fitted tightly enough to showcase his lean and muscular frame while also showing his tattooed arms. A thick pair of black combat boots were also worn, giving his already tall frame a couple more inches. He had a nostril ring piercing along with his ears gauged but not to an extreme size, the jewellery also was in black, suiting his entire aesthetic.
He made his way outside for a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He knew it was a bad habit but in truth… he didn’t care enough not to do it. His entire life was one big bad habit.
He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was kept in place in his slicked back undercut before he pulled a lighter from his pocket, he lit the cigarette as he approached the fire, standing over it, feeling the heat of the flames against his face as he took a drag from the cigarette and let out the smoke before looking over at one of the girls that was sitting there which he gave a soft smile, noticing her colourfully dyed hair.
"Enjoying your night?" He asked.
---
Billie was not born into an easy life. She was a trailer park girl growing up that moved more frequently than she remember since she was a little girl. Little did she know that was generally due to her Dad constantly relocating to evade the police. He was a marijuana grower by trade, and he made a great amount of money selling it to street dealers who did the foot work for him. That would all drastically change one night when her dad finally got busted, and after getting a lengthy sentencing based on how many plants were found and various other charges that were stacked up..off to prison he went. She was about 6 when they took him, and she had not seen him since.
Her mother wasn't exactly that much better. She cared and looked out for Billie, but she also got caught up in her bi-polar disorder and chasing dick more than she chased a stable environment for her daughter. It was far too frequently that Billie would be taking care of herself by the age of 8 when her mother was either working her late night waitressing job or when her mom would get too drunk and high...passing out and leaving Billie to fend for herself. She was growing up fast....way too fast for her personality and brain to develop in the way it probably should have. To make matters worse, she was gorgeous, and the types of men her mother attracted were not always the greatest of people. Sure, her mom would meet a few decent guys that showed Billie how to take care of herself a little better, but those were far and few between and her mom's relationships never lasted. The good guys her mom met left an impression, but it was the bad ones that would overshadow and develop Billie's personality.
She lost her virginity to one of her moms boyfriends one late night when he was drunk and her mom was passed out, and it was definitely not a consensual thing. She was almost 11 when she was deflowered, her cries and squeals falling on deaf ears of her mom that was completely passed out in the next room. Billie cried herself to sleep that night, and it wouldn't be the last time she was violated. Her mom did find out rather quickly about what her then boyfriend did to her daughter, and he was promptly broken up with, but nothing else was done about it. The man just got away with it when her mom never reported anything and just told Billie to keep it to herself for fear of police getting involved in their life again.
It wouldn't be the last time though her mom would bring some lowlife home that would hang around for a while. On several more occasions Billie was violated once mommy was passed out again, and eventually Billie just started keeping her mouth shut about it. Subconsciously the sexual abuse, the physical abuse, the lack of supervision, the desperation for real attention and the inherited bi-polar disorder was shaping Billie into a confused messed up teenager. By 14 she had already had sex with a few men, all of them too old for her. It was during those years that one of her moms recent ex-boyfriends would come over to the trailer at night to watch porn with her...and have sex. This guy had a thing for cumshots, and with his young impressionable toy he found in his ex-girlfriends daughter, it wasn't too hard to train her into a facial taker and a cum swallower. Between the acts in porn and an older man's agenda to unload his balls on this 14 year old, it wasn't long before Billie just assumed it was part of the process when any other girl her age and older would find it disgusting. It was nasty at first, but she learned to tolerate it.
She was confused, already breaking mentally and needed help out of a hopeless situation. Things finally took a turn for the better, once her Aunt found out about a lot of the things that were going on, but much damage had already been done. Billie's aunt got her out of her moms house and moved her to another state, but so much damage had already been done. She was smoking pot to ease the pain she didn't even know she had, floating through life, getting tattoos, piercings....and still having sex with men that she shouldn't be, like her tattoo artist that was trading her free tattoos for pussy.
.
Billie was freshly 17 now, had no contact with either of her parents and as confused as a teen could be from her experiences growing up. One thing was certain though, she was hot, with an incredible body that most girls her age would kill to have. She did have a large set of breasts that were far more developed than practically all other girls her age along with it she had a killer ass, flat stomach, pretty face and a wicked attitude. She was certainly one of the tougher girls in school, but inside she was just a broken damaged little girl still. Billie didn't exactly fit in with any particular social group at school, which landed herself as being part of the outcasts and freaks. Nobody dared mess with her though, at least...not since she beat the hell out of Angela AND Tina (two of the head cheerleaders) after school one day for talking shit about her. That event was definitely the day she got instant respect around the school, the detention she got was minor in comparison. She was a D student at best, not because she was dumb, but she had such a hard time paying attention and retaining book knowledge. She was fairly street smart, but that didn't pass tests. She had been placed on medications multiple times and had multiple counselors, but she never took her meds and she stopped meeting with her "shrinks that were pointless"....as she liked to put it. Her aunt couldn't control her, and really didn't even know how to with Billie frequently sneaking off and going for rides with biker guys she would meet. The only thing her aunt was able to do was force a birth control implant on her, Billie couldn't be counted on taking medication, and with her tendencies to sneak out her aunt did what she could do to protect from an unplanned pregnancy. All in all, Billie didn't fully realize how messed up she really was.
--------------
Saturday night, it was the typical night most high school hours parties were thrown and this weekend was no different. This was a particularly large party that attracted kids from nearly all social groups at school, and Billie was not one to miss a party very often. It was the weekend, so Billie and a few of her friends that were notably hotter "outcasts" got the text message a party was going down, making their way to the address that came into the house, mingled a bit and had a few drinks. While Billie's friends stayed inside, she took a break from the loud noises of party goers that tended to give her anxiety after a while and went outside towards the firepit that was lit in the backyard. Taking a seat by herself near the fire, she wore an extremely short black skirt that night, a red thong, matching small lace bra, a blue spaghetti strap tank top and heels. Her skirt hiked up as she crossed her legs and sat on cheap lawn chair that was set up, a skirt so short that if anybody was to look at the right angle there would be just a hint of red panties on display, despite her legs being crossed. Her tattooes were all mostly visible, along with her blue hair that was down.
Billie sat alone for at least 10 minutes, getting lost in the back of her mind where her past, present and future all swirled together in a confusing mess of thoughts. To her, her mind was blank, but her damaged messy subconscious was turning and doing flip flops. That's when she heard some guy address her, and ask her if she was enjoying her night. She glanced up, snapping out of her trance...when did this guy even get here? She had not even noticed anybody walk up.
Holy....shit.....this guy was HOT. Tattooes everywhere and with aura of bad boy to him, perfect for her. Billie's eyes focused on him and she smiled. "hey..." she said, still wondering where the hell he came from even though he walked up plainly towards here to light a cigarette.
"The nights pretty good, I mean...for a jock party..." she giggled a little, staring at the fire as it flickered before her, she looked back at this stud who was standing a few feet away and adjusted herself to face him a little more "hey...you got an extra cigarette on you?" she said with a mischievous smile on her as she scanned over this guy.
--------------
Premise: He lives a fairly accomplished life, having married his college sweetheart and working in a successful occupation. After some time, he opens his own practice and begins seeing patients on a regular basis. However one of his most recent patients is not a referral but someone who'd like to be seen on their own. As their professional relationship unfolds, however, it becomes clear that his newest patient has an agenda of her own. Whether it's a resentment of his marriage, successful life, or anything in between she wants to tear it all down. What starts as a request for help progresses to increasing flirtation and temptations, and a dangerous game of cat and mouse; where the line between professionalism blurs with lust.
This idea can be changed to a teacher & student or boss & secretary setting. Many details is open to be discussed and brainstormed.
This idea can be changed to a teacher & student or boss & secretary setting. Many details is open to be discussed and brainstormed.
In high school Zara was a fairly average girl, not having huge boobs like some girls, not styling or colouring her hair in any crazy way. She still very attractive but spent most of time concentrating on studying. Not a nerd, just wanting to make it into med school, following in her dad and older sisters footsteps.
But her entire outlook on life changed.
The date was December 31st, 2015, Zara was 18 years old, her best friend Ashley and her were planning for weeks on their New Years Eve party at Jack's house. Deciding on their outfits, their hairstyles, even the drinks they were gonna have. The two of them were inseparable, basically the sister that Zara wished she had.
But Zaras mom and dad were adamant about her spending New Years with her grandparents up in Canada instead. Obviously she protested against it, demanding to stay at home, even getting Ashley's mom to agree to her staying over for the week with them. But no, no matter how much she begged and pleaded, she was forced to visit her older relatives…
Zara got home in the new year, hearing nothing from Ash, she was confused before receiving a phone call from her mom, crying her eyes out over the phone as she explained that Ash never came home, dying in a car accident on her way to the party.
Zara felt responsible for her death, agreeing to drive the two of them there before her parents dropping the bomb onto her. It sent Zara into a wreck. She was distant from her family, taking her spiralling emotions out on all of them. Refusing to continue her studies. Doing the exact opposite of what was expected of her, rebelling against them all at any cost. Even to her own detriment.
Following Ashley's funeral, Zara had nobody to turn to, she completely disconnected from her family, she lost her best friend and had no way to truly express herself, wanting somebody to pour her heart out to. She began frequenting a local dive bar. She'd always come across an older guy, in his mid 30's. He would shower her with compliments, buy her drinks, even take her home for no charge. She actually began to think he liked her, and that he was somebody she could trust and someone who would care about her feelings.
He didn't care one bit. He took Zaras virginity in the back of his car. It hurt but she'd continue to fuck him, just in the hope that he'd care about her and the lonely situation she would find herself in. No matter how much they'd fuck, it never changed a thing. He still couldn't give two shits and it left her feeling used, dirty and alone once again.....
She missed Ash. It was her fault and she deserved to be used and manipulated. She deserved to be punished.
Zara began to regret less and enjoy her masochistic tendencies. She would love the thrill of walking alone down a darkened alleyway, it's not like she wanted anything bad to happen to herself, it was just exciting to survive such a situation unscathed. It made her appreciate her safe home, her warm bed and loving surroundings a lot more.
The idea of fucking taken guys was so much more of a thrill. Almost praying to be walked in on with a girls boyfriend below her body. Watching her face was always a picture to Zara, locking eyes with her as she would grin and ride her ashamed boyfriend.
But, nothing compares to how damaged she can be on the anniversary of Ash's death.
-----
This is Zara, now 21 years old, she lives alone in her own apartment (Almost a month late on rent). Working a low income job at Starbucks (although she hasn't shown up for a few days now). She started smoking quite often, admittedly having a drinking problem along with blossoming addiction issues, only coke, not the hardest stuff right? She keeps hanging out with older, more disgusting and crude guys, guys she would have looked down upon before Ash's death, but it was her fault, she needs to suffer, she deserves to be punished.
Zara would try to fall for the sweet boys, the guys that she would of happily bring home to mother with pride. She'd try to remember more of the night before, trying to make sure the sex is safer. Attempting to cut down on her drinking habits. But in the end it's usually for nothing. She'd go back to same old Zara, unprotected drunk sex, fucking gross older men, blowing somebody for a simple 8-ball. She'd cry herself to sleep, often wishing to be in Ashley's place.
Some ideas can be a a married man using her, a toxic relationship with a boyfriend, something with a therapist, cheating with friend of the boyfriend's.
But her entire outlook on life changed.
The date was December 31st, 2015, Zara was 18 years old, her best friend Ashley and her were planning for weeks on their New Years Eve party at Jack's house. Deciding on their outfits, their hairstyles, even the drinks they were gonna have. The two of them were inseparable, basically the sister that Zara wished she had.
But Zaras mom and dad were adamant about her spending New Years with her grandparents up in Canada instead. Obviously she protested against it, demanding to stay at home, even getting Ashley's mom to agree to her staying over for the week with them. But no, no matter how much she begged and pleaded, she was forced to visit her older relatives…
Zara got home in the new year, hearing nothing from Ash, she was confused before receiving a phone call from her mom, crying her eyes out over the phone as she explained that Ash never came home, dying in a car accident on her way to the party.
Zara felt responsible for her death, agreeing to drive the two of them there before her parents dropping the bomb onto her. It sent Zara into a wreck. She was distant from her family, taking her spiralling emotions out on all of them. Refusing to continue her studies. Doing the exact opposite of what was expected of her, rebelling against them all at any cost. Even to her own detriment.
Following Ashley's funeral, Zara had nobody to turn to, she completely disconnected from her family, she lost her best friend and had no way to truly express herself, wanting somebody to pour her heart out to. She began frequenting a local dive bar. She'd always come across an older guy, in his mid 30's. He would shower her with compliments, buy her drinks, even take her home for no charge. She actually began to think he liked her, and that he was somebody she could trust and someone who would care about her feelings.
He didn't care one bit. He took Zaras virginity in the back of his car. It hurt but she'd continue to fuck him, just in the hope that he'd care about her and the lonely situation she would find herself in. No matter how much they'd fuck, it never changed a thing. He still couldn't give two shits and it left her feeling used, dirty and alone once again.....
She missed Ash. It was her fault and she deserved to be used and manipulated. She deserved to be punished.
Zara began to regret less and enjoy her masochistic tendencies. She would love the thrill of walking alone down a darkened alleyway, it's not like she wanted anything bad to happen to herself, it was just exciting to survive such a situation unscathed. It made her appreciate her safe home, her warm bed and loving surroundings a lot more.
The idea of fucking taken guys was so much more of a thrill. Almost praying to be walked in on with a girls boyfriend below her body. Watching her face was always a picture to Zara, locking eyes with her as she would grin and ride her ashamed boyfriend.
But, nothing compares to how damaged she can be on the anniversary of Ash's death.
-----
This is Zara, now 21 years old, she lives alone in her own apartment (Almost a month late on rent). Working a low income job at Starbucks (although she hasn't shown up for a few days now). She started smoking quite often, admittedly having a drinking problem along with blossoming addiction issues, only coke, not the hardest stuff right? She keeps hanging out with older, more disgusting and crude guys, guys she would have looked down upon before Ash's death, but it was her fault, she needs to suffer, she deserves to be punished.
Zara would try to fall for the sweet boys, the guys that she would of happily bring home to mother with pride. She'd try to remember more of the night before, trying to make sure the sex is safer. Attempting to cut down on her drinking habits. But in the end it's usually for nothing. She'd go back to same old Zara, unprotected drunk sex, fucking gross older men, blowing somebody for a simple 8-ball. She'd cry herself to sleep, often wishing to be in Ashley's place.
Some ideas can be a a married man using her, a toxic relationship with a boyfriend, something with a therapist, cheating with friend of the boyfriend's.
Zoe woke from her dreamless sleep with a startle as Cooper rose next to her. Although it had been a few weeks, Zoe was still adjusting to sleeping next to someone, and the growing drug use had caused her to cease dreaming, maybe it was for the best now that her nightmares had more or less passed.
Half-asleep, she slipped out of the bed and wrapped a nightgown around her slim, slender frame. Cooper insisted she sleep naked, and she had happily obliged, but it was still something she was getting used to. Back home, she had worn pajamas to bed, usually ones given to her as a Christmas gift from her grandmother. But her grandmother had died a few months before the last Christmas, and Zoe’s world had changed so much since then. The drug use, running away from home, moving in with Cooper, sleeping with him every night and waking up with his dry cum on her body, it was still taking some getting used to
Zoe went to the kitchen dressed in only her nightgown. She still liked the idea of making breakfast everyday for her man, even if she wasn’t very good at it. It was not like she had a mothering role-model to teach her to cook. But she still tried her best, and she liked serving Cooper his breakfast. For Cooper was Zoe ’s rock, her knight in shining armour, her saviour.
Zoe was born in the poor part of poor town. Her father left when she was young, leaving her to be raised by her mother. If madness and malice could have a baby, it would have been her mom. Besides the parade of men that had come in and out of her life, the only other constant in Zoe ’s childhood was her mother’s meanness. Locked away when ‘company’ came over, blamed for her mother’s failure, beaten when she misbehaved, Zoe had an awful upbringing. Of course, the adults in her life could briefly put on the appearance of normality when the state came over; anything to keep those government cheques coming. But otherwise, outside of brief, happy visits with her grandmother at Christmas time, there was nothing positive in Zoe’s childhood.
Things only grew worse as Zoe grew older, and her body started changing. School, which had always been a safe respite from her childhood storms, became filled with cliques, puberty, and dating. At home, the parade of men ended when her mother remarried, but to a man Zoe found creepy, and who promptly moved in with them. Her grandmother grew frail and forgetful. And her own mother grew worse, accusing Zoe of being a stank, a degenerate, and a whore. With all the abuse, repressed memories, her step-father's perversions, her grandmother dying, and her failing grades, Zoe had started skipping school, and was being slowly introduced to drugs and alcohol.
The night Zoe’s life forever changed started at a party. After a particularly fierce fight with her mom, Zoe snuck out of her house with the help of her friends. They drove to a party outside of town, and that’s where she met Cooper. A friend of a friend, he was the most handsome guy she had ever seen. Zoe found herself falling for him at first sight, and they seemed to share a connection. Zoe felt like she was attached to his hip the whole party. And in a haze of alcohol and drugs, Zoe and Cooper found some privacy and hooked up. It was the first time Zoe willingly and consensually had sex, and it was the most intimate and passionate sex she had ever experience in her life.
There was hell to pay the next morning when Zoe returned home. Her mother, berating her, calling her all sorts of vile names. Her step-father, volunteering to punish her. And Zoe , yelling and screaming at both of them. What had been the most magical, special evening of Zoe ’s young life, had curdled into a morning of anger and rage. Zoe promptly locked herself in her room, and avoided all contact with her so-called caregivers.
During this turbulence, Cooper became her life-raft. Not a day went by when she wouldn’t text him or call him. With the swirl of negativity surrounding her, Cooper became a single source of happiness in Zoe’s deary life. She started sneaking out with him, skipping school to be with him, doing drugs just to be with him. Cooper became everything to Zoe, and she was head over heels for him.
It was after a particular vicious fight with her mom, after Zoe had accused her step-dad of trying to spy on her in the shower and her mother accused her of being a lying whore, that Zoe hatched her plan. She had mentioned a few times to Cooper about moving in with him, and he had never said no. She texted him, crying, begging, pleading that she couldn’t take anymore, and Cooper agreed to get her. To save her, Zoe thought. That night, Zoe pack up as much as she could, stole some money from her step-dad, and fled in the night with Cooper.
Zoe laid her attempt at breakfast on the table as Cooper sat down. Still dressed in only a nightgown, she was hoping for a little more attention before Cooper left. Staying home all day, smoking pot, and watching TV had been fun at first. But it had gotten boring, and she was far from anyone she knew. Zoe rubbed her hand along Cooper’s inner thigh, trying to tease him while her other hand slowly peeled back her nightgown, trying exposed more of her body to him. She looked at Cooper with puppy-dog eyes, almost desperate for his attention.
Half-asleep, she slipped out of the bed and wrapped a nightgown around her slim, slender frame. Cooper insisted she sleep naked, and she had happily obliged, but it was still something she was getting used to. Back home, she had worn pajamas to bed, usually ones given to her as a Christmas gift from her grandmother. But her grandmother had died a few months before the last Christmas, and Zoe’s world had changed so much since then. The drug use, running away from home, moving in with Cooper, sleeping with him every night and waking up with his dry cum on her body, it was still taking some getting used to
Zoe went to the kitchen dressed in only her nightgown. She still liked the idea of making breakfast everyday for her man, even if she wasn’t very good at it. It was not like she had a mothering role-model to teach her to cook. But she still tried her best, and she liked serving Cooper his breakfast. For Cooper was Zoe ’s rock, her knight in shining armour, her saviour.
Zoe was born in the poor part of poor town. Her father left when she was young, leaving her to be raised by her mother. If madness and malice could have a baby, it would have been her mom. Besides the parade of men that had come in and out of her life, the only other constant in Zoe ’s childhood was her mother’s meanness. Locked away when ‘company’ came over, blamed for her mother’s failure, beaten when she misbehaved, Zoe had an awful upbringing. Of course, the adults in her life could briefly put on the appearance of normality when the state came over; anything to keep those government cheques coming. But otherwise, outside of brief, happy visits with her grandmother at Christmas time, there was nothing positive in Zoe’s childhood.
Things only grew worse as Zoe grew older, and her body started changing. School, which had always been a safe respite from her childhood storms, became filled with cliques, puberty, and dating. At home, the parade of men ended when her mother remarried, but to a man Zoe found creepy, and who promptly moved in with them. Her grandmother grew frail and forgetful. And her own mother grew worse, accusing Zoe of being a stank, a degenerate, and a whore. With all the abuse, repressed memories, her step-father's perversions, her grandmother dying, and her failing grades, Zoe had started skipping school, and was being slowly introduced to drugs and alcohol.
The night Zoe’s life forever changed started at a party. After a particularly fierce fight with her mom, Zoe snuck out of her house with the help of her friends. They drove to a party outside of town, and that’s where she met Cooper. A friend of a friend, he was the most handsome guy she had ever seen. Zoe found herself falling for him at first sight, and they seemed to share a connection. Zoe felt like she was attached to his hip the whole party. And in a haze of alcohol and drugs, Zoe and Cooper found some privacy and hooked up. It was the first time Zoe willingly and consensually had sex, and it was the most intimate and passionate sex she had ever experience in her life.
There was hell to pay the next morning when Zoe returned home. Her mother, berating her, calling her all sorts of vile names. Her step-father, volunteering to punish her. And Zoe , yelling and screaming at both of them. What had been the most magical, special evening of Zoe ’s young life, had curdled into a morning of anger and rage. Zoe promptly locked herself in her room, and avoided all contact with her so-called caregivers.
During this turbulence, Cooper became her life-raft. Not a day went by when she wouldn’t text him or call him. With the swirl of negativity surrounding her, Cooper became a single source of happiness in Zoe’s deary life. She started sneaking out with him, skipping school to be with him, doing drugs just to be with him. Cooper became everything to Zoe, and she was head over heels for him.
It was after a particular vicious fight with her mom, after Zoe had accused her step-dad of trying to spy on her in the shower and her mother accused her of being a lying whore, that Zoe hatched her plan. She had mentioned a few times to Cooper about moving in with him, and he had never said no. She texted him, crying, begging, pleading that she couldn’t take anymore, and Cooper agreed to get her. To save her, Zoe thought. That night, Zoe pack up as much as she could, stole some money from her step-dad, and fled in the night with Cooper.
Zoe laid her attempt at breakfast on the table as Cooper sat down. Still dressed in only a nightgown, she was hoping for a little more attention before Cooper left. Staying home all day, smoking pot, and watching TV had been fun at first. But it had gotten boring, and she was far from anyone she knew. Zoe rubbed her hand along Cooper’s inner thigh, trying to tease him while her other hand slowly peeled back her nightgown, trying exposed more of her body to him. She looked at Cooper with puppy-dog eyes, almost desperate for his attention.
Sluggishly dragging herself back home, following another tiring day of work. It's not enjoyable listening to bratty teenagers and your perv manager hit on you... but it pays the bills, well sorta.
A scrunched up McDonalds bag in Allison's hand....again, thank the lord for her fast metabolism or she'd be in a wheelchair at this point. Slouched over slightly as she watched the footpath, her worn out pair of red Converses hitting the floor with each step. Her earphones beneath her hood blaring out Kendrick Lamar’s latest single as she walked home in her own little world, sharing glances at the fellow people walking by. A few cute guys that she'll never see again....shame.
She turned to make her way into her apartment building, collecting the mail before stepping into the elevator, a few small smiles and soft waves to the other poor bastards living in such a cesspool of a building. After punching in the button to her floor, she leaned against the rail, exhaling as she tried to calm herself down following a few stressful weeks. She walked along the stained carpet to her apartment door, looking at the walls, covered in God-knows-what liquid. The stench hits her nose like a train, she remained unfazed, conditioned to such surroundings by now.
Allison unlocked the door, closing it and locking it behind her as she kicked off her shoes. She walked to her dump of a living room, seating herself on an old couch, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table in front of it. A few empty bud light cans, a PlayStation controller, some old college books, her artwork and vodka bottles are bunched together, like a cute little collection. An ashtray sits by her feet as she begins reading through the mail. Eviction notice, junk mail, the usual. She lights up a cigarette before opening up her phone, reading some text messages, one from mom, granting her request for her to wire some more cash into her bank, still thinking I'm in art college. One from my dealer, telling me about 'some new shit from Colombia'. Another from...... Kyle? Telling me I should probably get a checkup, awesome.
Allison turned on the tv as she sat back, taking some much deserved drags as she looked around the living room. Her old wallpaper could do with changing, the torn effect ain't really doing it for her anyways? She should clean the carpet too, beer stains aren't the prettiest of designs this season. The windows are filthy but eh, saves her having to close the curtains she guessed? Her unwashed clothes are piled atop an armchair that was once her grandpa's, passed down to her.
With a cigarette between her lips, she watched her phone screen like a hawk, it's Friday night and there's gotta be something on tonight? Even some college parties? She knows she dropped out months ago, but that doesn't mean she can't hang out with her friends. Besides, she dropped out because of them, deciding that she couldn't handle the pressure on top of her newfound addiction to certain substances. “I swear I'll go back when I'm clean?” Allison thinks.
So this is Allison, a 19 year old girl living alone in Queens, recently dropping out of art college, still living off of mom and dad's money with the lie that she's using it for college stuff. But in reality, she's a mess, fighting a craving for coke as well as anything else that can get a job done. She's currently working at Hot Topic, it's not exactly what she was planning to do when she moved to New York from Seattle, but it pays okay and she guesses it can open other doors in the future? She's a pretty outgoing girl, usually being described as: friendly, talkative, mellow, funny, easy....actually ignore the last one.
A scrunched up McDonalds bag in Allison's hand....again, thank the lord for her fast metabolism or she'd be in a wheelchair at this point. Slouched over slightly as she watched the footpath, her worn out pair of red Converses hitting the floor with each step. Her earphones beneath her hood blaring out Kendrick Lamar’s latest single as she walked home in her own little world, sharing glances at the fellow people walking by. A few cute guys that she'll never see again....shame.
She turned to make her way into her apartment building, collecting the mail before stepping into the elevator, a few small smiles and soft waves to the other poor bastards living in such a cesspool of a building. After punching in the button to her floor, she leaned against the rail, exhaling as she tried to calm herself down following a few stressful weeks. She walked along the stained carpet to her apartment door, looking at the walls, covered in God-knows-what liquid. The stench hits her nose like a train, she remained unfazed, conditioned to such surroundings by now.
Allison unlocked the door, closing it and locking it behind her as she kicked off her shoes. She walked to her dump of a living room, seating herself on an old couch, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table in front of it. A few empty bud light cans, a PlayStation controller, some old college books, her artwork and vodka bottles are bunched together, like a cute little collection. An ashtray sits by her feet as she begins reading through the mail. Eviction notice, junk mail, the usual. She lights up a cigarette before opening up her phone, reading some text messages, one from mom, granting her request for her to wire some more cash into her bank, still thinking I'm in art college. One from my dealer, telling me about 'some new shit from Colombia'. Another from...... Kyle? Telling me I should probably get a checkup, awesome.
Allison turned on the tv as she sat back, taking some much deserved drags as she looked around the living room. Her old wallpaper could do with changing, the torn effect ain't really doing it for her anyways? She should clean the carpet too, beer stains aren't the prettiest of designs this season. The windows are filthy but eh, saves her having to close the curtains she guessed? Her unwashed clothes are piled atop an armchair that was once her grandpa's, passed down to her.
With a cigarette between her lips, she watched her phone screen like a hawk, it's Friday night and there's gotta be something on tonight? Even some college parties? She knows she dropped out months ago, but that doesn't mean she can't hang out with her friends. Besides, she dropped out because of them, deciding that she couldn't handle the pressure on top of her newfound addiction to certain substances. “I swear I'll go back when I'm clean?” Allison thinks.
So this is Allison, a 19 year old girl living alone in Queens, recently dropping out of art college, still living off of mom and dad's money with the lie that she's using it for college stuff. But in reality, she's a mess, fighting a craving for coke as well as anything else that can get a job done. She's currently working at Hot Topic, it's not exactly what she was planning to do when she moved to New York from Seattle, but it pays okay and she guesses it can open other doors in the future? She's a pretty outgoing girl, usually being described as: friendly, talkative, mellow, funny, easy....actually ignore the last one.
As usual, Billie left the school building much more speedily, than she had entered it.
The day, so far at least, had been shit. But that wasn't really a surprise. Sometimes it seemed to her, that her whole life was on a slowly, but steadily spiraling downhill.
If pressured to mark the point, where it got really bad, she probably would have named two dates: The day her father lost his job and the day where he (and the rest of the world) had noticed her tits.
Her family had always been on the lower end of the social ladder, but after her dad was laid off, his lack of income, paired with a gambling habit that got slowly out of hand, had made things worse.
It also ment, that he spent a lot more time at home...Enough time, to ogle Billie. Or at least certain parts of her.
On a vague, theoretical level, she was aware that her body (that poetically inclined people might have called "voluptuous") was something someone could be proud off. And the looks of obvious envy in the eyes of her female classmates seemed to support that idea. Yet, she would have preferred not to be the target of the kind of looks she got all too often.
The rest of her appearance of course, was rarely the source of envy. Neither her (mostly second-hand) clothes, carefully picked to cover as much of her as possible, without looking like an amish-girl, nor the blue dyed hair or her face, that seemed to be the epitome of "You would be prettier, if you smiled more often".
Quickly, the girl jumped down the stairs, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the old army jackett she had thrown over, to hide the curves her tanktop failed spectaculary to conceal, and then strode leisurely towards the street, where she dropped her backpack under a tree, lit her cigarette and waited.
Corey had offered to pick her up after school and, by god, she could use some wanted attention today. After an uncomfortable breakfast, an abyssmal schoolday with teachers who either stared at her chest or berated her about her slipping grades (or both), she desperately needed something to calm down. Also she liked to avoid getting home before her mother returned from one of the three jobs she had to do.
Better to spent the day literally anywhere else, than alone with her dad.
So Billie stood there, leaning against the tree, smoking and looking for her boyfriends car.
Billie watched as Corey pulled on up. She had mixed feelings about seeing him today. The whole day had been a complete shit-show. Her dad had been nagging her about getting a job. And her mother was barley home to say anything. The woman is too busy screwing her boss. Sooner or later the truth would come out. It always does. Aside from that, she was not doing too well in one of her classes. Mr. Williams suggested she stay after school once a week to catch up. She didn’t want to but she needed that class to graduate.
She flicked her cigarette and walked on over. “Hey.” She opened the door and got in. “It was fine.” She shrugged, placing her back pack by her feet. Corey was an odd person. He would reach out then pull away. Their relationship wasn’t stable. But she liked him. He was not some highschool boy who looked away when they talked to you. No, he was a nice change of pace. Maybe that’s why she liked being around him. Of course it sucked when he went off to work. But he liked to keep busy.
She couldn’t wait to graduate and get away from this hell hole. Away from her so called parents. She wasn’t sure if Corey would still be around when she graduated? It would be nice if he was. But she didn’t have high hopes. She took a deep breath, looking over at him. “Your place?” She asked, giving him a small smile. Maybe they could start a movie and actually finish it this time. But it would hard if his roommate was around. She didn’t talk to him much. He was too cocky. It was annoying, but she dealt with it.
-----
So this story idea is revolving around a young, maybe high school aged alternative/goth type girl. She's from a poor, abusive home and is struggling to get by. I'd like to explore her life, maybe going through her downwards spiral and she can't help but get abused and used by her father, her older boyfriend, his friends, a teacher, drug dealer. Feel free to bring me more characters idea and flesh out the ones I have. Also think an addiction to sex and drinking, drugs will occur.
The day, so far at least, had been shit. But that wasn't really a surprise. Sometimes it seemed to her, that her whole life was on a slowly, but steadily spiraling downhill.
If pressured to mark the point, where it got really bad, she probably would have named two dates: The day her father lost his job and the day where he (and the rest of the world) had noticed her tits.
Her family had always been on the lower end of the social ladder, but after her dad was laid off, his lack of income, paired with a gambling habit that got slowly out of hand, had made things worse.
It also ment, that he spent a lot more time at home...Enough time, to ogle Billie. Or at least certain parts of her.
On a vague, theoretical level, she was aware that her body (that poetically inclined people might have called "voluptuous") was something someone could be proud off. And the looks of obvious envy in the eyes of her female classmates seemed to support that idea. Yet, she would have preferred not to be the target of the kind of looks she got all too often.
The rest of her appearance of course, was rarely the source of envy. Neither her (mostly second-hand) clothes, carefully picked to cover as much of her as possible, without looking like an amish-girl, nor the blue dyed hair or her face, that seemed to be the epitome of "You would be prettier, if you smiled more often".
Quickly, the girl jumped down the stairs, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the old army jackett she had thrown over, to hide the curves her tanktop failed spectaculary to conceal, and then strode leisurely towards the street, where she dropped her backpack under a tree, lit her cigarette and waited.
Corey had offered to pick her up after school and, by god, she could use some wanted attention today. After an uncomfortable breakfast, an abyssmal schoolday with teachers who either stared at her chest or berated her about her slipping grades (or both), she desperately needed something to calm down. Also she liked to avoid getting home before her mother returned from one of the three jobs she had to do.
Better to spent the day literally anywhere else, than alone with her dad.
So Billie stood there, leaning against the tree, smoking and looking for her boyfriends car.
Billie watched as Corey pulled on up. She had mixed feelings about seeing him today. The whole day had been a complete shit-show. Her dad had been nagging her about getting a job. And her mother was barley home to say anything. The woman is too busy screwing her boss. Sooner or later the truth would come out. It always does. Aside from that, she was not doing too well in one of her classes. Mr. Williams suggested she stay after school once a week to catch up. She didn’t want to but she needed that class to graduate.
She flicked her cigarette and walked on over. “Hey.” She opened the door and got in. “It was fine.” She shrugged, placing her back pack by her feet. Corey was an odd person. He would reach out then pull away. Their relationship wasn’t stable. But she liked him. He was not some highschool boy who looked away when they talked to you. No, he was a nice change of pace. Maybe that’s why she liked being around him. Of course it sucked when he went off to work. But he liked to keep busy.
She couldn’t wait to graduate and get away from this hell hole. Away from her so called parents. She wasn’t sure if Corey would still be around when she graduated? It would be nice if he was. But she didn’t have high hopes. She took a deep breath, looking over at him. “Your place?” She asked, giving him a small smile. Maybe they could start a movie and actually finish it this time. But it would hard if his roommate was around. She didn’t talk to him much. He was too cocky. It was annoying, but she dealt with it.
-----
So this story idea is revolving around a young, maybe high school aged alternative/goth type girl. She's from a poor, abusive home and is struggling to get by. I'd like to explore her life, maybe going through her downwards spiral and she can't help but get abused and used by her father, her older boyfriend, his friends, a teacher, drug dealer. Feel free to bring me more characters idea and flesh out the ones I have. Also think an addiction to sex and drinking, drugs will occur.
“Get back in here at once, Beverly!”
Her hair, messy and auburn, flew like a flaming fire following behind her back as she ran out the frontt door.
Beverly Miller did not bother closing the door behind her, and she could still hear her father’s screams a whole block away, her own footsteps hammering against the sidewalk as she rushed away. She had two mismatched sneakers on: one pink, the other one blue. Bev had rushed to put them on, grabbing blindly, having been barefooted when the whole situation exploded in her home.
She was a curvaceous young teen, slim as a whole but round in all the right places, which she hated. Sure, it was supposed to be great to look good, right? To have perky breasts and a round, pert ass, huh? Yeah, well, it was not so great when her dad was one of the men ogling her, that was for damned sure. She sometimes wished she could be plain-looking and flat-chested and be done with this whole shitshow.
What had started the argument this time? Well, apparently her mom had overcooked her father’s stake. Dishes had been darted at the wall, but only because her father’s aim was crap. He had been aiming at her mom, as per usual.
Bev had been stupid enough to try and get in the way, stand up to her dad. That never worked. Her cheek was still bruised by the sharp slap this attitude got her, but she did not care. She was far too used to bruises and scrapes by now, having known all about them since she was but a toddler.
Beverly might have been beautiful, but she wasn’t like those pretty girls at school with their little dresses and their manicured nails and their ever-so-perfect hairs. No. She was wearing a hand-me-down pair of denim cut shorts, not because her dad did not earn money to buy her new stuff, but because he had the nasty tendency to visit the tracks twice a week. Sometimes he won, sometimes, well… sometimes he didn’t, and that was not good for anyone. Her blouse, a light shade of blue and with a somewhat pleasant cleavage, was new but already stained with whatever sauce the steak was covered in.
-------------------
Small towns. They can be quaint and charming and welcoming. People don't lock their doors, children run in the streets freely, neighbors protect each other. Charming and perfect, right?
Well, yes, to anyone who fits the 'perfect and charming' cookie cutter stereotype they are supposed to act and look like.
What I'm interested in is exploring the lives, romance, heartache and conflicts of these outcasts, characters who don't fit the mold, who might try to fit in or embrace their outcast position. These characters would be "damaged goods" of some sorts, losers or rebels.
Her hair, messy and auburn, flew like a flaming fire following behind her back as she ran out the frontt door.
Beverly Miller did not bother closing the door behind her, and she could still hear her father’s screams a whole block away, her own footsteps hammering against the sidewalk as she rushed away. She had two mismatched sneakers on: one pink, the other one blue. Bev had rushed to put them on, grabbing blindly, having been barefooted when the whole situation exploded in her home.
She was a curvaceous young teen, slim as a whole but round in all the right places, which she hated. Sure, it was supposed to be great to look good, right? To have perky breasts and a round, pert ass, huh? Yeah, well, it was not so great when her dad was one of the men ogling her, that was for damned sure. She sometimes wished she could be plain-looking and flat-chested and be done with this whole shitshow.
What had started the argument this time? Well, apparently her mom had overcooked her father’s stake. Dishes had been darted at the wall, but only because her father’s aim was crap. He had been aiming at her mom, as per usual.
Bev had been stupid enough to try and get in the way, stand up to her dad. That never worked. Her cheek was still bruised by the sharp slap this attitude got her, but she did not care. She was far too used to bruises and scrapes by now, having known all about them since she was but a toddler.
Beverly might have been beautiful, but she wasn’t like those pretty girls at school with their little dresses and their manicured nails and their ever-so-perfect hairs. No. She was wearing a hand-me-down pair of denim cut shorts, not because her dad did not earn money to buy her new stuff, but because he had the nasty tendency to visit the tracks twice a week. Sometimes he won, sometimes, well… sometimes he didn’t, and that was not good for anyone. Her blouse, a light shade of blue and with a somewhat pleasant cleavage, was new but already stained with whatever sauce the steak was covered in.
-------------------
Small towns. They can be quaint and charming and welcoming. People don't lock their doors, children run in the streets freely, neighbors protect each other. Charming and perfect, right?
Well, yes, to anyone who fits the 'perfect and charming' cookie cutter stereotype they are supposed to act and look like.
What I'm interested in is exploring the lives, romance, heartache and conflicts of these outcasts, characters who don't fit the mold, who might try to fit in or embrace their outcast position. These characters would be "damaged goods" of some sorts, losers or rebels.
Lucky for Lucy she had a special charm about her that lead to a wide opportunity of job openings. She wasn’t oblivious to the envy some girls might hold on her either. After all she was a curvy, petite, young woman blessed with beautiful, brown, wavy locks of love. Her emerald eyes could pierce the hearts of many men and woman if she chose to do so but that wasn’t the problem. No, looks weren’t an issue for her. It was her mood swings so to speak. Her tardiness and seeming lack of motivation in the workplace that she struggled with. She was smart but she made dumb decisions and last night was a dumb decision. It was a decision that may have gotten her laid off today.
Liam, Lucy’s roommate, also happened to be her rock. Her boyfriend of two years; The guy she ran to every time something went wrong. His emotional support was so valuable. She didn’t know how she would survive without him sometimes. Sure, they both were broke as fuck but at least he could hold a job. She didn’t understand why her boss assumed being hungover meant she wasn’t able to function in the work environment. Then again, she did tend to fall asleep at the desk and her only job was to answer phone calls/redirect calls. It was hard to balance life as a young adult. On occasion Lucy wanted to enjoy the night life with her girlfriends but she also needed to hold a job so she could afford life with Liam. Moving in with her mom or dad wasn’t really an option in her head either.
Lucy’s high-heeled boots felt heavier than usual today as she set home for her apartment. It was as if the rain pouring down on her held a higher gravitational force on her body. Then again four blocks of concrete in heels wasn't ideal and her ride was still working at the job she just let go of. Hmmm…come to think of it…maybe…it was her outfit today that got her in trouble? She was wearing a pencil skirt which seemed appropriate to her standards, but maybe she should have buttoned that extra top button so her cleavage wasn’t as apparent. Lucy had gotten fired once before over not following the dress code, but the things they told her to wear didn’t make any sense to her. Regardless, her current situation still pissed her off and she knew Liam wasn’t going to be to thrilled to hear her news either.
Ughhhh are you kidding me? Stress was rising inside Lucy like a fire ignited with gasoline. Of all the days for Angela to bug her…
“Lucy, where’s your rent? It’s now two months overdue!”
“What about Marshal’s Rent? Why are you picking on me?!”
“He paid yesterday…” Angela said, and of course this only made Lucy even more upset. Even Marshal, the sketchy old man who dealt drugs had it more together than her.
“Fine!” Lucy screamed louder than necessary pulling out the cash she just withdrew from her final work check. She knew she was still down $250 or so but…that was all she had right now. “Liam will get you the rest by the end of the week.” She mumbled, still not in the mood to deal with people. She was feeling attacked and the last thing she wanted was Angela breathing down her throat about rent.
“Okay well, make sure it happens. I need it Lucy.”
“Yeah yeah, I will. I will.” she said continuing her way up the creaking wooden staircase, not really paying any mind to what Angela was really saying to her. It was all just words with no meaning at this point because it went in one ear, and just as easily out the other.
“Hey,” Lucy said to Marshal, “your shave looks nice” she remarked. She had to stay nice to Marshal, not that he was necessarily hard to get along with. No, that usually wasn’t a problem for Lucy but because on occasion he would set her up with some recreational fun. Liam wasn’t a fan of it but sometimes….Lucy just needed it and she couldn’t control it.
“Bad day huh?” he said, obviously noting the scene she made downstairs. All the walls were thin. Door closed or not, most people in the eight room, two story, apartment complex would have heard her yell at Angela. “Let me know if ya need som’thn later” his thick accent was obvious but she still didn’t know where he came from. Judging by the assortment of tattoos over his shirtless body she figured it was from a gang he may have formerly been in. On that note, Lucy liked to keep their relationship minimal and for….business only. But overall, he was a good neighbor to have next door. She trusted him. Enough.
“Hah, yeah. It’s been a day.” she said finding her key to open the door. But before Lucy turned the handle she looked back at Marshal and whispered “M…maybe later.”
Entering the apartment complex Lucy immediately threw her purse into the corner of the living room and slammed the door behind her. “Liam…” she said feeling her eyes begin to water as she looked into the handsome features of his face. “They…laid me off! I…I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear! They just decided to hate me!” she said moving herself over to him, hugging him close. Needing him. “And then…Angela…she-“ Lucy was practically hyperventilating at this point with her chest pressed onto his abdomen still not letting him go. But mentioning Angela’s name quickly turned what was going to be tears back into anger “-Angela yelled at me and I gave her all the cash I had. I can’t win. They laid me off…and I ..I felt like I was doing better…” she said slowly falling to her knees in front of him.
Lucy was a mess and Liam knew it. But what he didn’t know was how she planned on fixing her issues for the night…
”When was the last time …?” Lucy paused, biting on her lower lip as she looked up at him from her knees. A smile traced her lips as her fingertips lingered their way up from his boot to his thigh, and then danced around his crotch. “ …I got laid?” she asked twisting the negative words thrown into her face this morning by her boss into a more dirty connotation.
----
Hey guys! I'm really open to where this rp could go! Thought it'd create this and leave it a bit open as I'm curious with what some people could offer in terms of avenues to take it.
Obviously it's a couple that is down on their luck a
was a fairly average girl, not having huge boobs like some girls, not styling or colouring her hair in any crazy way. She still very attractive but spent most of time concentrating on studying. Not a nerd, just wanting to make it into med school, following in her dad and older sisters footsteps.
But her entire outlook on life changed.
The date was December 31st, 2015, Zara was 18 years old, her best friend Ashley and her were planning for weeks on their New Years Eve party at Jack's house. Deciding on their outfits, their hairstyles, even the drinks they were gonna have. The two of them were inseparable, basically the sister that Zara wished she had.
But Zaras mom and dad were adamant about her spending New Years with her grandparents up in Canada instead. Obviously she protested against it, demanding to stay at home, even getting Ashley's mom to agree to her staying over for the week with them. But no, no matter how much she begged and pleaded, she was forced to visit her older relatives…
Zara got home in the new year, hearing nothing from Ash, she was confused before receiving a phone call from her mom, crying her eyes out over the phone as she explained that Ash never came home, dying in a car accident on her way to the party.
Zara felt responsible for her death, agreeing to drive the two of them there before her parents dropping the bomb onto her. It sent Zara into a wreck. She was distant from her family, taking her spiralling emotions out on all of them. Refusing to continue her studies. Doing the exact opposite of what was expected of her, rebelling against them all at any cost. Even to her own detriment.
Following Ashley's funeral, Zara had nobody to turn to, she completely disconnected from her family, she lost her best friend and had no way to truly express herself, wanting somebody to pour her heart out to. She began frequenting a local dive bar. She'd always come across an older guy, in his mid 30's. He would shower her with compliments, buy her drinks, even take her home for no charge. She actually began to think he liked her, and that he was somebody she could trust and someone who would care about her feelings.
He didn't care one bit. He took Zaras virginity in the back of his car. It hurt but she'd continue to fuck him, just in the hope that he'd care about her and the lonely situation she would find herself in. No matter how much they'd fuck, it never changed a thing. He still couldn't give two shits and it left her feeling used, dirty and alone once again.....
She missed Ash. It was her fault and she deserved to be used and manipulated. She deserved to be punished.
Zara began to regret less and enjoy her masochistic tendencies. She would love the thrill of walking alone down a darkened alleyway, it's not like she wanted anything bad to happen to herself, it was just exciting to survive such a situation unscathed. It made her appreciate her safe home, her warm bed and loving surroundings a lot more.
The idea of fucking taken guys was so much more of a thrill. Almost praying to be walked in on with a girls boyfriend below her body. Watching her face was always a picture to Zara, locking eyes with her as she would grin and ride her ashamed boyfriend.
But, nothing compares to how damaged she can be on the anniversary of Ash's death.
-----
This is Zara, now 21 years old, she lives alone in her own apartment (Almost a month late on rent). Working a low income job at Starbucks (although she hasn't shown up for a few days now). She started smoking quite often, admittedly having a drinking problem along with blossoming addiction issues, only coke, not the hardest stuff right? She keeps hanging out with older, more disgusting and crude guys, guys she would have looked down upon before Ash's death, but it was her fault, she needs to suffer, she deserves to be punished.
Zara would try to fall for the sweet boys, the guys that she would of happily bring home to mother with pride. She'd try to remember more of the night before, trying to make sure the sex is safer. Attempting to cut down on her drinking habits. But in the end it's usually for nothing. She'd go back to same old Zara, unprotected drunk sex, fucking gross older men, blowing somebody for a simple 8-ball. She'd cry herself to sleep, often wishing to be in Ashley's place.
Some ideas can be a a married man using her, a toxic relationship with a boyfriend, something with a therapist, cheating with friend of the boyfriend's.
Liam, Lucy’s roommate, also happened to be her rock. Her boyfriend of two years; The guy she ran to every time something went wrong. His emotional support was so valuable. She didn’t know how she would survive without him sometimes. Sure, they both were broke as fuck but at least he could hold a job. She didn’t understand why her boss assumed being hungover meant she wasn’t able to function in the work environment. Then again, she did tend to fall asleep at the desk and her only job was to answer phone calls/redirect calls. It was hard to balance life as a young adult. On occasion Lucy wanted to enjoy the night life with her girlfriends but she also needed to hold a job so she could afford life with Liam. Moving in with her mom or dad wasn’t really an option in her head either.
Lucy’s high-heeled boots felt heavier than usual today as she set home for her apartment. It was as if the rain pouring down on her held a higher gravitational force on her body. Then again four blocks of concrete in heels wasn't ideal and her ride was still working at the job she just let go of. Hmmm…come to think of it…maybe…it was her outfit today that got her in trouble? She was wearing a pencil skirt which seemed appropriate to her standards, but maybe she should have buttoned that extra top button so her cleavage wasn’t as apparent. Lucy had gotten fired once before over not following the dress code, but the things they told her to wear didn’t make any sense to her. Regardless, her current situation still pissed her off and she knew Liam wasn’t going to be to thrilled to hear her news either.
Ughhhh are you kidding me? Stress was rising inside Lucy like a fire ignited with gasoline. Of all the days for Angela to bug her…
“Lucy, where’s your rent? It’s now two months overdue!”
“What about Marshal’s Rent? Why are you picking on me?!”
“He paid yesterday…” Angela said, and of course this only made Lucy even more upset. Even Marshal, the sketchy old man who dealt drugs had it more together than her.
“Fine!” Lucy screamed louder than necessary pulling out the cash she just withdrew from her final work check. She knew she was still down $250 or so but…that was all she had right now. “Liam will get you the rest by the end of the week.” She mumbled, still not in the mood to deal with people. She was feeling attacked and the last thing she wanted was Angela breathing down her throat about rent.
“Okay well, make sure it happens. I need it Lucy.”
“Yeah yeah, I will. I will.” she said continuing her way up the creaking wooden staircase, not really paying any mind to what Angela was really saying to her. It was all just words with no meaning at this point because it went in one ear, and just as easily out the other.
“Hey,” Lucy said to Marshal, “your shave looks nice” she remarked. She had to stay nice to Marshal, not that he was necessarily hard to get along with. No, that usually wasn’t a problem for Lucy but because on occasion he would set her up with some recreational fun. Liam wasn’t a fan of it but sometimes….Lucy just needed it and she couldn’t control it.
“Bad day huh?” he said, obviously noting the scene she made downstairs. All the walls were thin. Door closed or not, most people in the eight room, two story, apartment complex would have heard her yell at Angela. “Let me know if ya need som’thn later” his thick accent was obvious but she still didn’t know where he came from. Judging by the assortment of tattoos over his shirtless body she figured it was from a gang he may have formerly been in. On that note, Lucy liked to keep their relationship minimal and for….business only. But overall, he was a good neighbor to have next door. She trusted him. Enough.
“Hah, yeah. It’s been a day.” she said finding her key to open the door. But before Lucy turned the handle she looked back at Marshal and whispered “M…maybe later.”
Entering the apartment complex Lucy immediately threw her purse into the corner of the living room and slammed the door behind her. “Liam…” she said feeling her eyes begin to water as she looked into the handsome features of his face. “They…laid me off! I…I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear! They just decided to hate me!” she said moving herself over to him, hugging him close. Needing him. “And then…Angela…she-“ Lucy was practically hyperventilating at this point with her chest pressed onto his abdomen still not letting him go. But mentioning Angela’s name quickly turned what was going to be tears back into anger “-Angela yelled at me and I gave her all the cash I had. I can’t win. They laid me off…and I ..I felt like I was doing better…” she said slowly falling to her knees in front of him.
Lucy was a mess and Liam knew it. But what he didn’t know was how she planned on fixing her issues for the night…
”When was the last time …?” Lucy paused, biting on her lower lip as she looked up at him from her knees. A smile traced her lips as her fingertips lingered their way up from his boot to his thigh, and then danced around his crotch. “ …I got laid?” she asked twisting the negative words thrown into her face this morning by her boss into a more dirty connotation.
----
Hey guys! I'm really open to where this rp could go! Thought it'd create this and leave it a bit open as I'm curious with what some people could offer in terms of avenues to take it.
Obviously it's a couple that is down on their luck a
was a fairly average girl, not having huge boobs like some girls, not styling or colouring her hair in any crazy way. She still very attractive but spent most of time concentrating on studying. Not a nerd, just wanting to make it into med school, following in her dad and older sisters footsteps.
But her entire outlook on life changed.
The date was December 31st, 2015, Zara was 18 years old, her best friend Ashley and her were planning for weeks on their New Years Eve party at Jack's house. Deciding on their outfits, their hairstyles, even the drinks they were gonna have. The two of them were inseparable, basically the sister that Zara wished she had.
But Zaras mom and dad were adamant about her spending New Years with her grandparents up in Canada instead. Obviously she protested against it, demanding to stay at home, even getting Ashley's mom to agree to her staying over for the week with them. But no, no matter how much she begged and pleaded, she was forced to visit her older relatives…
Zara got home in the new year, hearing nothing from Ash, she was confused before receiving a phone call from her mom, crying her eyes out over the phone as she explained that Ash never came home, dying in a car accident on her way to the party.
Zara felt responsible for her death, agreeing to drive the two of them there before her parents dropping the bomb onto her. It sent Zara into a wreck. She was distant from her family, taking her spiralling emotions out on all of them. Refusing to continue her studies. Doing the exact opposite of what was expected of her, rebelling against them all at any cost. Even to her own detriment.
Following Ashley's funeral, Zara had nobody to turn to, she completely disconnected from her family, she lost her best friend and had no way to truly express herself, wanting somebody to pour her heart out to. She began frequenting a local dive bar. She'd always come across an older guy, in his mid 30's. He would shower her with compliments, buy her drinks, even take her home for no charge. She actually began to think he liked her, and that he was somebody she could trust and someone who would care about her feelings.
He didn't care one bit. He took Zaras virginity in the back of his car. It hurt but she'd continue to fuck him, just in the hope that he'd care about her and the lonely situation she would find herself in. No matter how much they'd fuck, it never changed a thing. He still couldn't give two shits and it left her feeling used, dirty and alone once again.....
She missed Ash. It was her fault and she deserved to be used and manipulated. She deserved to be punished.
Zara began to regret less and enjoy her masochistic tendencies. She would love the thrill of walking alone down a darkened alleyway, it's not like she wanted anything bad to happen to herself, it was just exciting to survive such a situation unscathed. It made her appreciate her safe home, her warm bed and loving surroundings a lot more.
The idea of fucking taken guys was so much more of a thrill. Almost praying to be walked in on with a girls boyfriend below her body. Watching her face was always a picture to Zara, locking eyes with her as she would grin and ride her ashamed boyfriend.
But, nothing compares to how damaged she can be on the anniversary of Ash's death.
-----
This is Zara, now 21 years old, she lives alone in her own apartment (Almost a month late on rent). Working a low income job at Starbucks (although she hasn't shown up for a few days now). She started smoking quite often, admittedly having a drinking problem along with blossoming addiction issues, only coke, not the hardest stuff right? She keeps hanging out with older, more disgusting and crude guys, guys she would have looked down upon before Ash's death, but it was her fault, she needs to suffer, she deserves to be punished.
Zara would try to fall for the sweet boys, the guys that she would of happily bring home to mother with pride. She'd try to remember more of the night before, trying to make sure the sex is safer. Attempting to cut down on her drinking habits. But in the end it's usually for nothing. She'd go back to same old Zara, unprotected drunk sex, fucking gross older men, blowing somebody for a simple 8-ball. She'd cry herself to sleep, often wishing to be in Ashley's place.
Some ideas can be a a married man using her, a toxic relationship with a boyfriend, something with a therapist, cheating with friend of the boyfriend's.
Zoe woke from her dreamless sleep with a startle as Cooper rose next to her. Although it had been a few weeks, Zoe was still adjusting to sleeping next to someone, and the growing drug use had caused her to cease dreaming, maybe it was for the best now that her nightmares had more or less passed.
Half-asleep, she slipped out of the bed and wrapped a nightgown around her slim, slender frame. Cooper insisted she sleep naked, and she had happily obliged, but it was still something she was getting used to. Back home, she had worn pajamas to bed, usually ones given to her as a Christmas gift from her grandmother. But her grandmother had died a few months before the last Christmas, and Zoe’s world had changed so much since then. The drug use, running away from home, moving in with Cooper, sleeping with him every night and waking up with his dry cum on her body, it was still taking some getting used to
Zoe went to the kitchen dressed in only her nightgown. She still liked the idea of making breakfast everyday for her man, even if she wasn’t very good at it. It was not like she had a mothering role-model to teach her to cook. But she still tried her best, and she liked serving Cooper his breakfast. For Cooper was Zoe ’s rock, her knight in shining armour, her saviour.
Zoe was born in the poor part of poor town. Her father left when she was young, leaving her to be raised by her mother. If madness and malice could have a baby, it would have been her mom. Besides the parade of men that had come in and out of her life, the only other constant in Zoe ’s childhood was her mother’s meanness. Locked away when ‘company’ came over, blamed for her mother’s failure, beaten when she misbehaved, Zoe had an awful upbringing. Of course, the adults in her life could briefly put on the appearance of normality when the state came over; anything to keep those government cheques coming. But otherwise, outside of brief, happy visits with her grandmother at Christmas time, there was nothing positive in Zoe’s childhood.
Things only grew worse as Zoe grew older, and her body started changing. School, which had always been a safe respite from her childhood storms, became filled with cliques, puberty, and dating. At home, the parade of men ended when her mother remarried, but to a man Zoe found creepy, and who promptly moved in with them. Her grandmother grew frail and forgetful. And her own mother grew worse, accusing Zoe of being a stank, a degenerate, and a whore. With all the abuse, repressed memories, her step-father's perversions, her grandmother dying, and her failing grades, Zoe had started skipping school, and was being slowly introduced to drugs and alcohol.
The night Zoe’s life forever changed started at a party. After a particularly fierce fight with her mom, Zoe snuck out of her house with the help of her friends. They drove to a party outside of town, and that’s where she met Cooper. A friend of a friend, he was the most handsome guy she had ever seen. Zoe found herself falling for him at first sight, and they seemed to share a connection. Zoe felt like she was attached to his hip the whole party. And in a haze of alcohol and drugs, Zoe and Cooper found some privacy and hooked up. It was the first time Zoe willingly and consensually had sex, and it was the most intimate and passionate sex she had ever experience in her life.
There was hell to pay the next morning when Zoe returned home. Her mother, berating her, calling her all sorts of vile names. Her step-father, volunteering to punish her. And Zoe , yelling and screaming at both of them. What had been the most magical, special evening of Zoe ’s young life, had curdled into a morning of anger and rage. Zoe promptly locked herself in her room, and avoided all contact with her so-called caregivers.
During this turbulence, Cooper became her life-raft. Not a day went by when she wouldn’t text him or call him. With the swirl of negativity surrounding her, Cooper became a single source of happiness in Zoe’s deary life. She started sneaking out with him, skipping school to be with him, doing drugs just to be with him. Cooper became everything to Zoe, and she was head over heels for him.
It was after a particular vicious fight with her mom, after Zoe had accused her step-dad of trying to spy on her in the shower and her mother accused her of being a lying whore, that Zoe hatched her plan. She had mentioned a few times to Cooper about moving in with him, and he had never said no. She texted him, crying, begging, pleading that she couldn’t take anymore, and Cooper agreed to get her. To save her, Zoe thought. That night, Zoe pack up as much as she could, stole some money from her step-dad, and fled in the night with Cooper.
Zoe laid her attempt at breakfast on the table as Cooper sat down. Still dressed in only a nightgown, she was hoping for a little more attention before Cooper left. Staying home all day, smoking pot, and watching TV had been fun at first. But it had gotten boring, and she was far from anyone she knew. Zoe rubbed her hand along Cooper’s inner thigh, trying to tease him while her other hand slowly peeled back her nightgown, trying exposed more of her body to him. She looked at Cooper with puppy-dog eyes, almost desperate for his attention.
Half-asleep, she slipped out of the bed and wrapped a nightgown around her slim, slender frame. Cooper insisted she sleep naked, and she had happily obliged, but it was still something she was getting used to. Back home, she had worn pajamas to bed, usually ones given to her as a Christmas gift from her grandmother. But her grandmother had died a few months before the last Christmas, and Zoe’s world had changed so much since then. The drug use, running away from home, moving in with Cooper, sleeping with him every night and waking up with his dry cum on her body, it was still taking some getting used to
Zoe went to the kitchen dressed in only her nightgown. She still liked the idea of making breakfast everyday for her man, even if she wasn’t very good at it. It was not like she had a mothering role-model to teach her to cook. But she still tried her best, and she liked serving Cooper his breakfast. For Cooper was Zoe ’s rock, her knight in shining armour, her saviour.
Zoe was born in the poor part of poor town. Her father left when she was young, leaving her to be raised by her mother. If madness and malice could have a baby, it would have been her mom. Besides the parade of men that had come in and out of her life, the only other constant in Zoe ’s childhood was her mother’s meanness. Locked away when ‘company’ came over, blamed for her mother’s failure, beaten when she misbehaved, Zoe had an awful upbringing. Of course, the adults in her life could briefly put on the appearance of normality when the state came over; anything to keep those government cheques coming. But otherwise, outside of brief, happy visits with her grandmother at Christmas time, there was nothing positive in Zoe’s childhood.
Things only grew worse as Zoe grew older, and her body started changing. School, which had always been a safe respite from her childhood storms, became filled with cliques, puberty, and dating. At home, the parade of men ended when her mother remarried, but to a man Zoe found creepy, and who promptly moved in with them. Her grandmother grew frail and forgetful. And her own mother grew worse, accusing Zoe of being a stank, a degenerate, and a whore. With all the abuse, repressed memories, her step-father's perversions, her grandmother dying, and her failing grades, Zoe had started skipping school, and was being slowly introduced to drugs and alcohol.
The night Zoe’s life forever changed started at a party. After a particularly fierce fight with her mom, Zoe snuck out of her house with the help of her friends. They drove to a party outside of town, and that’s where she met Cooper. A friend of a friend, he was the most handsome guy she had ever seen. Zoe found herself falling for him at first sight, and they seemed to share a connection. Zoe felt like she was attached to his hip the whole party. And in a haze of alcohol and drugs, Zoe and Cooper found some privacy and hooked up. It was the first time Zoe willingly and consensually had sex, and it was the most intimate and passionate sex she had ever experience in her life.
There was hell to pay the next morning when Zoe returned home. Her mother, berating her, calling her all sorts of vile names. Her step-father, volunteering to punish her. And Zoe , yelling and screaming at both of them. What had been the most magical, special evening of Zoe ’s young life, had curdled into a morning of anger and rage. Zoe promptly locked herself in her room, and avoided all contact with her so-called caregivers.
During this turbulence, Cooper became her life-raft. Not a day went by when she wouldn’t text him or call him. With the swirl of negativity surrounding her, Cooper became a single source of happiness in Zoe’s deary life. She started sneaking out with him, skipping school to be with him, doing drugs just to be with him. Cooper became everything to Zoe, and she was head over heels for him.
It was after a particular vicious fight with her mom, after Zoe had accused her step-dad of trying to spy on her in the shower and her mother accused her of being a lying whore, that Zoe hatched her plan. She had mentioned a few times to Cooper about moving in with him, and he had never said no. She texted him, crying, begging, pleading that she couldn’t take anymore, and Cooper agreed to get her. To save her, Zoe thought. That night, Zoe pack up as much as she could, stole some money from her step-dad, and fled in the night with Cooper.
Zoe laid her attempt at breakfast on the table as Cooper sat down. Still dressed in only a nightgown, she was hoping for a little more attention before Cooper left. Staying home all day, smoking pot, and watching TV had been fun at first. But it had gotten boring, and she was far from anyone she knew. Zoe rubbed her hand along Cooper’s inner thigh, trying to tease him while her other hand slowly peeled back her nightgown, trying exposed more of her body to him. She looked at Cooper with puppy-dog eyes, almost desperate for his attention.
Sluggishly dragging herself back home, following another tiring day of work. It's not enjoyable listening to bratty teenagers and your perv manager hit on you... but it pays the bills, well sorta.
A scrunched up McDonalds bag in Allison's hand....again, thank the lord for her fast metabolism or she'd be in a wheelchair at this point. Slouched over slightly as she watched the footpath, her worn out pair of red Converses hitting the floor with each step. Her earphones beneath her hood blaring out Kendrick Lamar’s latest single as she walked home in her own little world, sharing glances at the fellow people walking by. A few cute guys that she'll never see again....shame.
She turned to make her way into her apartment building, collecting the mail before stepping into the elevator, a few small smiles and soft waves to the other poor bastards living in such a cesspool of a building. After punching in the button to her floor, she leaned against the rail, exhaling as she tried to calm herself down following a few stressful weeks. She walked along the stained carpet to her apartment door, looking at the walls, covered in God-knows-what liquid. The stench hits her nose like a train, she remained unfazed, conditioned to such surroundings by now.
Allison unlocked the door, closing it and locking it behind her as she kicked off her shoes. She walked to her dump of a living room, seating herself on an old couch, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table in front of it. A few empty bud light cans, a PlayStation controller, some old college books, her artwork and vodka bottles are bunched together, like a cute little collection. An ashtray sits by her feet as she begins reading through the mail. Eviction notice, junk mail, the usual. She lights up a cigarette before opening up her phone, reading some text messages, one from mom, granting her request for her to wire some more cash into her bank, still thinking I'm in art college. One from my dealer, telling me about 'some new shit from Colombia'. Another from...... Kyle? Telling me I should probably get a checkup, awesome.
Allison turned on the tv as she sat back, taking some much deserved drags as she looked around the living room. Her old wallpaper could do with changing, the torn effect ain't really doing it for her anyways? She should clean the carpet too, beer stains aren't the prettiest of designs this season. The windows are filthy but eh, saves her having to close the curtains she guessed? Her unwashed clothes are piled atop an armchair that was once her grandpa's, passed down to her.
With a cigarette between her lips, she watched her phone screen like a hawk, it's Friday night and there's gotta be something on tonight? Even some college parties? She knows she dropped out months ago, but that doesn't mean she can't hang out with her friends. Besides, she dropped out because of them, deciding that she couldn't handle the pressure on top of her newfound addiction to certain substances. “I swear I'll go back when I'm clean?” Allison thinks.
So this is Allison, a 19 year old girl living alone in Queens, recently dropping out of art college, still living off of mom and dad's money with the lie that she's using it for college stuff. But in reality, she's a mess, fighting a craving for coke as well as anything else that can get a job done. She's currently working at Hot Topic, it's not exactly what she was planning to do when she moved to New York from Seattle, but it pays okay and she guesses it can open other doors in the future? She's a pretty outgoing girl, usually being described as: friendly, talkative, mellow, funny, easy....actually ignore the last one.
A scrunched up McDonalds bag in Allison's hand....again, thank the lord for her fast metabolism or she'd be in a wheelchair at this point. Slouched over slightly as she watched the footpath, her worn out pair of red Converses hitting the floor with each step. Her earphones beneath her hood blaring out Kendrick Lamar’s latest single as she walked home in her own little world, sharing glances at the fellow people walking by. A few cute guys that she'll never see again....shame.
She turned to make her way into her apartment building, collecting the mail before stepping into the elevator, a few small smiles and soft waves to the other poor bastards living in such a cesspool of a building. After punching in the button to her floor, she leaned against the rail, exhaling as she tried to calm herself down following a few stressful weeks. She walked along the stained carpet to her apartment door, looking at the walls, covered in God-knows-what liquid. The stench hits her nose like a train, she remained unfazed, conditioned to such surroundings by now.
Allison unlocked the door, closing it and locking it behind her as she kicked off her shoes. She walked to her dump of a living room, seating herself on an old couch, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table in front of it. A few empty bud light cans, a PlayStation controller, some old college books, her artwork and vodka bottles are bunched together, like a cute little collection. An ashtray sits by her feet as she begins reading through the mail. Eviction notice, junk mail, the usual. She lights up a cigarette before opening up her phone, reading some text messages, one from mom, granting her request for her to wire some more cash into her bank, still thinking I'm in art college. One from my dealer, telling me about 'some new shit from Colombia'. Another from...... Kyle? Telling me I should probably get a checkup, awesome.
Allison turned on the tv as she sat back, taking some much deserved drags as she looked around the living room. Her old wallpaper could do with changing, the torn effect ain't really doing it for her anyways? She should clean the carpet too, beer stains aren't the prettiest of designs this season. The windows are filthy but eh, saves her having to close the curtains she guessed? Her unwashed clothes are piled atop an armchair that was once her grandpa's, passed down to her.
With a cigarette between her lips, she watched her phone screen like a hawk, it's Friday night and there's gotta be something on tonight? Even some college parties? She knows she dropped out months ago, but that doesn't mean she can't hang out with her friends. Besides, she dropped out because of them, deciding that she couldn't handle the pressure on top of her newfound addiction to certain substances. “I swear I'll go back when I'm clean?” Allison thinks.
So this is Allison, a 19 year old girl living alone in Queens, recently dropping out of art college, still living off of mom and dad's money with the lie that she's using it for college stuff. But in reality, she's a mess, fighting a craving for coke as well as anything else that can get a job done. She's currently working at Hot Topic, it's not exactly what she was planning to do when she moved to New York from Seattle, but it pays okay and she guesses it can open other doors in the future? She's a pretty outgoing girl, usually being described as: friendly, talkative, mellow, funny, easy....actually ignore the last one.
As usual, Billie left the school building much more speedily, than she had entered it.
The day, so far at least, had been shit. But that wasn't really a surprise. Sometimes it seemed to her, that her whole life was on a slowly, but steadily spiraling downhill.
If pressured to mark the point, where it got really bad, she probably would have named two dates: The day her father lost his job and the day where he (and the rest of the world) had noticed her tits.
Her family had always been on the lower end of the social ladder, but after her dad was laid off, his lack of income, paired with a gambling habit that got slowly out of hand, had made things worse.
It also ment, that he spent a lot more time at home...Enough time, to ogle Billie. Or at least certain parts of her.
On a vague, theoretical level, she was aware that her body (that poetically inclined people might have called "voluptuous") was something someone could be proud off. And the looks of obvious envy in the eyes of her female classmates seemed to support that idea. Yet, she would have preferred not to be the target of the kind of looks she got all too often.
The rest of her appearance of course, was rarely the source of envy. Neither her (mostly second-hand) clothes, carefully picked to cover as much of her as possible, without looking like an amish-girl, nor the blue dyed hair or her face, that seemed to be the epitome of "You would be prettier, if you smiled more often".
Quickly, the girl jumped down the stairs, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the old army jackett she had thrown over, to hide the curves her tanktop failed spectaculary to conceal, and then strode leisurely towards the street, where she dropped her backpack under a tree, lit her cigarette and waited.
Corey had offered to pick her up after school and, by god, she could use some wanted attention today. After an uncomfortable breakfast, an abyssmal schoolday with teachers who either stared at her chest or berated her about her slipping grades (or both), she desperately needed something to calm down. Also she liked to avoid getting home before her mother returned from one of the three jobs she had to do.
Better to spent the day literally anywhere else, than alone with her dad.
So Billie stood there, leaning against the tree, smoking and looking for her boyfriends car.
Billie watched as Corey pulled on up. She had mixed feelings about seeing him today. The whole day had been a complete shit-show. Her dad had been nagging her about getting a job. And her mother was barley home to say anything. The woman is too busy screwing her boss. Sooner or later the truth would come out. It always does. Aside from that, she was not doing too well in one of her classes. Mr. Williams suggested she stay after school once a week to catch up. She didn’t want to but she needed that class to graduate.
She flicked her cigarette and walked on over. “Hey.” She opened the door and got in. “It was fine.” She shrugged, placing her back pack by her feet. Corey was an odd person. He would reach out then pull away. Their relationship wasn’t stable. But she liked him. He was not some highschool boy who looked away when they talked to you. No, he was a nice change of pace. Maybe that’s why she liked being around him. Of course it sucked when he went off to work. But he liked to keep busy.
She couldn’t wait to graduate and get away from this hell hole. Away from her so called parents. She wasn’t sure if Corey would still be around when she graduated? It would be nice if he was. But she didn’t have high hopes. She took a deep breath, looking over at him. “Your place?” She asked, giving him a small smile. Maybe they could start a movie and actually finish it this time. But it would hard if his roommate was around. She didn’t talk to him much. He was too cocky. It was annoying, but she dealt with it.
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So this story idea is revolving around a young, maybe high school aged alternative/goth type girl. She's from a poor, abusive home and is struggling to get by. I'd like to explore her life, maybe going through her downwards spiral and she can't help but get abused and used by her father, her older boyfriend, his friends, a teacher, drug dealer. Feel free to bring me more characters idea and flesh out the ones I have. Also think an addiction to sex and drinking, drugs will occur.
The day, so far at least, had been shit. But that wasn't really a surprise. Sometimes it seemed to her, that her whole life was on a slowly, but steadily spiraling downhill.
If pressured to mark the point, where it got really bad, she probably would have named two dates: The day her father lost his job and the day where he (and the rest of the world) had noticed her tits.
Her family had always been on the lower end of the social ladder, but after her dad was laid off, his lack of income, paired with a gambling habit that got slowly out of hand, had made things worse.
It also ment, that he spent a lot more time at home...Enough time, to ogle Billie. Or at least certain parts of her.
On a vague, theoretical level, she was aware that her body (that poetically inclined people might have called "voluptuous") was something someone could be proud off. And the looks of obvious envy in the eyes of her female classmates seemed to support that idea. Yet, she would have preferred not to be the target of the kind of looks she got all too often.
The rest of her appearance of course, was rarely the source of envy. Neither her (mostly second-hand) clothes, carefully picked to cover as much of her as possible, without looking like an amish-girl, nor the blue dyed hair or her face, that seemed to be the epitome of "You would be prettier, if you smiled more often".
Quickly, the girl jumped down the stairs, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the old army jackett she had thrown over, to hide the curves her tanktop failed spectaculary to conceal, and then strode leisurely towards the street, where she dropped her backpack under a tree, lit her cigarette and waited.
Corey had offered to pick her up after school and, by god, she could use some wanted attention today. After an uncomfortable breakfast, an abyssmal schoolday with teachers who either stared at her chest or berated her about her slipping grades (or both), she desperately needed something to calm down. Also she liked to avoid getting home before her mother returned from one of the three jobs she had to do.
Better to spent the day literally anywhere else, than alone with her dad.
So Billie stood there, leaning against the tree, smoking and looking for her boyfriends car.
Billie watched as Corey pulled on up. She had mixed feelings about seeing him today. The whole day had been a complete shit-show. Her dad had been nagging her about getting a job. And her mother was barley home to say anything. The woman is too busy screwing her boss. Sooner or later the truth would come out. It always does. Aside from that, she was not doing too well in one of her classes. Mr. Williams suggested she stay after school once a week to catch up. She didn’t want to but she needed that class to graduate.
She flicked her cigarette and walked on over. “Hey.” She opened the door and got in. “It was fine.” She shrugged, placing her back pack by her feet. Corey was an odd person. He would reach out then pull away. Their relationship wasn’t stable. But she liked him. He was not some highschool boy who looked away when they talked to you. No, he was a nice change of pace. Maybe that’s why she liked being around him. Of course it sucked when he went off to work. But he liked to keep busy.
She couldn’t wait to graduate and get away from this hell hole. Away from her so called parents. She wasn’t sure if Corey would still be around when she graduated? It would be nice if he was. But she didn’t have high hopes. She took a deep breath, looking over at him. “Your place?” She asked, giving him a small smile. Maybe they could start a movie and actually finish it this time. But it would hard if his roommate was around. She didn’t talk to him much. He was too cocky. It was annoying, but she dealt with it.
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So this story idea is revolving around a young, maybe high school aged alternative/goth type girl. She's from a poor, abusive home and is struggling to get by. I'd like to explore her life, maybe going through her downwards spiral and she can't help but get abused and used by her father, her older boyfriend, his friends, a teacher, drug dealer. Feel free to bring me more characters idea and flesh out the ones I have. Also think an addiction to sex and drinking, drugs will occur.
“Get back in here at once, Beverly!”
Her hair, messy and auburn, flew like a flaming fire following behind her back as she ran out the frontt door.
Beverly Miller did not bother closing the door behind her, and she could still hear her father’s screams a whole block away, her own footsteps hammering against the sidewalk as she rushed away. She had two mismatched sneakers on: one pink, the other one blue. Bev had rushed to put them on, grabbing blindly, having been barefooted when the whole situation exploded in her home.
She was a curvaceous young teen, slim as a whole but round in all the right places, which she hated. Sure, it was supposed to be great to look good, right? To have perky breasts and a round, pert ass, huh? Yeah, well, it was not so great when her dad was one of the men ogling her, that was for damned sure. She sometimes wished she could be plain-looking and flat-chested and be done with this whole shitshow.
What had started the argument this time? Well, apparently her mom had overcooked her father’s stake. Dishes had been darted at the wall, but only because her father’s aim was crap. He had been aiming at her mom, as per usual.
Bev had been stupid enough to try and get in the way, stand up to her dad. That never worked. Her cheek was still bruised by the sharp slap this attitude got her, but she did not care. She was far too used to bruises and scrapes by now, having known all about them since she was but a toddler.
Beverly might have been beautiful, but she wasn’t like those pretty girls at school with their little dresses and their manicured nails and their ever-so-perfect hairs. No. She was wearing a hand-me-down pair of denim cut shorts, not because her dad did not earn money to buy her new stuff, but because he had the nasty tendency to visit the tracks twice a week. Sometimes he won, sometimes, well… sometimes he didn’t, and that was not good for anyone. Her blouse, a light shade of blue and with a somewhat pleasant cleavage, was new but already stained with whatever sauce the steak was covered in.
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Small towns. They can be quaint and charming and welcoming. People don't lock their doors, children run in the streets freely, neighbors protect each other. Charming and perfect, right?
Well, yes, to anyone who fits the 'perfect and charming' cookie cutter stereotype they are supposed to act and look like.
What I'm interested in is exploring the lives, romance, heartache and conflicts of these outcasts, characters who don't fit the mold, who might try to fit in or embrace their outcast position. These characters would be "damaged goods" of some sorts, losers or rebels.
Her hair, messy and auburn, flew like a flaming fire following behind her back as she ran out the frontt door.
Beverly Miller did not bother closing the door behind her, and she could still hear her father’s screams a whole block away, her own footsteps hammering against the sidewalk as she rushed away. She had two mismatched sneakers on: one pink, the other one blue. Bev had rushed to put them on, grabbing blindly, having been barefooted when the whole situation exploded in her home.
She was a curvaceous young teen, slim as a whole but round in all the right places, which she hated. Sure, it was supposed to be great to look good, right? To have perky breasts and a round, pert ass, huh? Yeah, well, it was not so great when her dad was one of the men ogling her, that was for damned sure. She sometimes wished she could be plain-looking and flat-chested and be done with this whole shitshow.
What had started the argument this time? Well, apparently her mom had overcooked her father’s stake. Dishes had been darted at the wall, but only because her father’s aim was crap. He had been aiming at her mom, as per usual.
Bev had been stupid enough to try and get in the way, stand up to her dad. That never worked. Her cheek was still bruised by the sharp slap this attitude got her, but she did not care. She was far too used to bruises and scrapes by now, having known all about them since she was but a toddler.
Beverly might have been beautiful, but she wasn’t like those pretty girls at school with their little dresses and their manicured nails and their ever-so-perfect hairs. No. She was wearing a hand-me-down pair of denim cut shorts, not because her dad did not earn money to buy her new stuff, but because he had the nasty tendency to visit the tracks twice a week. Sometimes he won, sometimes, well… sometimes he didn’t, and that was not good for anyone. Her blouse, a light shade of blue and with a somewhat pleasant cleavage, was new but already stained with whatever sauce the steak was covered in.
-------------------
Small towns. They can be quaint and charming and welcoming. People don't lock their doors, children run in the streets freely, neighbors protect each other. Charming and perfect, right?
Well, yes, to anyone who fits the 'perfect and charming' cookie cutter stereotype they are supposed to act and look like.
What I'm interested in is exploring the lives, romance, heartache and conflicts of these outcasts, characters who don't fit the mold, who might try to fit in or embrace their outcast position. These characters would be "damaged goods" of some sorts, losers or rebels.
Lucky for Lucy she had a special charm about her that lead to a wide opportunity of job openings. She wasn’t oblivious to the envy some girls might hold on her either. After all she was a curvy, petite, young woman blessed with beautiful, brown, wavy locks of love. Her emerald eyes could pierce the hearts of many men and woman if she chose to do so but that wasn’t the problem. No, looks weren’t an issue for her. It was her mood swings so to speak. Her tardiness and seeming lack of motivation in the workplace that she struggled with. She was smart but she made dumb decisions and last night was a dumb decision. It was a decision that may have gotten her laid off today.
Liam, Lucy’s roommate, also happened to be her rock. Her boyfriend of two years; The guy she ran to every time something went wrong. His emotional support was so valuable. She didn’t know how she would survive without him sometimes. Sure, they both were broke as fuck but at least he could hold a job. She didn’t understand why her boss assumed being hungover meant she wasn’t able to function in the work environment. Then again, she did tend to fall asleep at the desk and her only job was to answer phone calls/redirect calls. It was hard to balance life as a young adult. On occasion Lucy wanted to enjoy the night life with her girlfriends but she also needed to hold a job so she could afford life with Liam. Moving in with her mom or dad wasn’t really an option in her head either.
Lucy’s high-heeled boots felt heavier than usual today as she set home for her apartment. It was as if the rain pouring down on her held a higher gravitational force on her body. Then again four blocks of concrete in heels wasn't ideal and her ride was still working at the job she just let go of. Hmmm…come to think of it…maybe…it was her outfit today that got her in trouble? She was wearing a pencil skirt which seemed appropriate to her standards, but maybe she should have buttoned that extra top button so her cleavage wasn’t as apparent. Lucy had gotten fired once before over not following the dress code, but the things they told her to wear didn’t make any sense to her. Regardless, her current situation still pissed her off and she knew Liam wasn’t going to be to thrilled to hear her news either.
Ughhhh are you kidding me? Stress was rising inside Lucy like a fire ignited with gasoline. Of all the days for Angela to bug her…
“Lucy, where’s your rent? It’s now two months overdue!”
“What about Marshal’s Rent? Why are you picking on me?!”
“He paid yesterday…” Angela said, and of course this only made Lucy even more upset. Even Marshal, the sketchy old man who dealt drugs had it more together than her.
“Fine!” Lucy screamed louder than necessary pulling out the cash she just withdrew from her final work check. She knew she was still down $250 or so but…that was all she had right now. “Liam will get you the rest by the end of the week.” She mumbled, still not in the mood to deal with people. She was feeling attacked and the last thing she wanted was Angela breathing down her throat about rent.
“Okay well, make sure it happens. I need it Lucy.”
“Yeah yeah, I will. I will.” she said continuing her way up the creaking wooden staircase, not really paying any mind to what Angela was really saying to her. It was all just words with no meaning at this point because it went in one ear, and just as easily out the other.
“Hey,” Lucy said to Marshal, “your shave looks nice” she remarked. She had to stay nice to Marshal, not that he was necessarily hard to get along with. No, that usually wasn’t a problem for Lucy but because on occasion he would set her up with some recreational fun. Liam wasn’t a fan of it but sometimes….Lucy just needed it and she couldn’t control it.
“Bad day huh?” he said, obviously noting the scene she made downstairs. All the walls were thin. Door closed or not, most people in the eight room, two story, apartment complex would have heard her yell at Angela. “Let me know if ya need som’thn later” his thick accent was obvious but she still didn’t know where he came from. Judging by the assortment of tattoos over his shirtless body she figured it was from a gang he may have formerly been in. On that note, Lucy liked to keep their relationship minimal and for….business only. But overall, he was a good neighbor to have next door. She trusted him. Enough.
“Hah, yeah. It’s been a day.” she said finding her key to open the door. But before Lucy turned the handle she looked back at Marshal and whispered “M…maybe later.”
Entering the apartment complex Lucy immediately threw her purse into the corner of the living room and slammed the door behind her. “Liam…” she said feeling her eyes begin to water as she looked into the handsome features of his face. “They…laid me off! I…I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear! They just decided to hate me!” she said moving herself over to him, hugging him close. Needing him. “And then…Angela…she-“ Lucy was practically hyperventilating at this point with her chest pressed onto his abdomen still not letting him go. But mentioning Angela’s name quickly turned what was going to be tears back into anger “-Angela yelled at me and I gave her all the cash I had. I can’t win. They laid me off…and I ..I felt like I was doing better…” she said slowly falling to her knees in front of him.
Lucy was a mess and Liam knew it. But what he didn’t know was how she planned on fixing her issues for the night…
”When was the last time …?” Lucy paused, biting on her lower lip as she looked up at him from her knees. A smile traced her lips as her fingertips lingered their way up from his boot to his thigh, and then danced around his crotch. “ …I got laid?” she asked twisting the negative words thrown into her face this morning by her boss into a more dirty connotation.
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Hey guys! I'm really open to where this rp could go! Thought it'd create this and leave it a bit open as I'm curious with what some people could offer in terms of avenues to take it.
Obviously it's a couple that is down on their luck and barely managing to scrap by while Lucy has some... Issues.
Liam, Lucy’s roommate, also happened to be her rock. Her boyfriend of two years; The guy she ran to every time something went wrong. His emotional support was so valuable. She didn’t know how she would survive without him sometimes. Sure, they both were broke as fuck but at least he could hold a job. She didn’t understand why her boss assumed being hungover meant she wasn’t able to function in the work environment. Then again, she did tend to fall asleep at the desk and her only job was to answer phone calls/redirect calls. It was hard to balance life as a young adult. On occasion Lucy wanted to enjoy the night life with her girlfriends but she also needed to hold a job so she could afford life with Liam. Moving in with her mom or dad wasn’t really an option in her head either.
Lucy’s high-heeled boots felt heavier than usual today as she set home for her apartment. It was as if the rain pouring down on her held a higher gravitational force on her body. Then again four blocks of concrete in heels wasn't ideal and her ride was still working at the job she just let go of. Hmmm…come to think of it…maybe…it was her outfit today that got her in trouble? She was wearing a pencil skirt which seemed appropriate to her standards, but maybe she should have buttoned that extra top button so her cleavage wasn’t as apparent. Lucy had gotten fired once before over not following the dress code, but the things they told her to wear didn’t make any sense to her. Regardless, her current situation still pissed her off and she knew Liam wasn’t going to be to thrilled to hear her news either.
Ughhhh are you kidding me? Stress was rising inside Lucy like a fire ignited with gasoline. Of all the days for Angela to bug her…
“Lucy, where’s your rent? It’s now two months overdue!”
“What about Marshal’s Rent? Why are you picking on me?!”
“He paid yesterday…” Angela said, and of course this only made Lucy even more upset. Even Marshal, the sketchy old man who dealt drugs had it more together than her.
“Fine!” Lucy screamed louder than necessary pulling out the cash she just withdrew from her final work check. She knew she was still down $250 or so but…that was all she had right now. “Liam will get you the rest by the end of the week.” She mumbled, still not in the mood to deal with people. She was feeling attacked and the last thing she wanted was Angela breathing down her throat about rent.
“Okay well, make sure it happens. I need it Lucy.”
“Yeah yeah, I will. I will.” she said continuing her way up the creaking wooden staircase, not really paying any mind to what Angela was really saying to her. It was all just words with no meaning at this point because it went in one ear, and just as easily out the other.
“Hey,” Lucy said to Marshal, “your shave looks nice” she remarked. She had to stay nice to Marshal, not that he was necessarily hard to get along with. No, that usually wasn’t a problem for Lucy but because on occasion he would set her up with some recreational fun. Liam wasn’t a fan of it but sometimes….Lucy just needed it and she couldn’t control it.
“Bad day huh?” he said, obviously noting the scene she made downstairs. All the walls were thin. Door closed or not, most people in the eight room, two story, apartment complex would have heard her yell at Angela. “Let me know if ya need som’thn later” his thick accent was obvious but she still didn’t know where he came from. Judging by the assortment of tattoos over his shirtless body she figured it was from a gang he may have formerly been in. On that note, Lucy liked to keep their relationship minimal and for….business only. But overall, he was a good neighbor to have next door. She trusted him. Enough.
“Hah, yeah. It’s been a day.” she said finding her key to open the door. But before Lucy turned the handle she looked back at Marshal and whispered “M…maybe later.”
Entering the apartment complex Lucy immediately threw her purse into the corner of the living room and slammed the door behind her. “Liam…” she said feeling her eyes begin to water as she looked into the handsome features of his face. “They…laid me off! I…I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear! They just decided to hate me!” she said moving herself over to him, hugging him close. Needing him. “And then…Angela…she-“ Lucy was practically hyperventilating at this point with her chest pressed onto his abdomen still not letting him go. But mentioning Angela’s name quickly turned what was going to be tears back into anger “-Angela yelled at me and I gave her all the cash I had. I can’t win. They laid me off…and I ..I felt like I was doing better…” she said slowly falling to her knees in front of him.
Lucy was a mess and Liam knew it. But what he didn’t know was how she planned on fixing her issues for the night…
”When was the last time …?” Lucy paused, biting on her lower lip as she looked up at him from her knees. A smile traced her lips as her fingertips lingered their way up from his boot to his thigh, and then danced around his crotch. “ …I got laid?” she asked twisting the negative words thrown into her face this morning by her boss into a more dirty connotation.
----
Hey guys! I'm really open to where this rp could go! Thought it'd create this and leave it a bit open as I'm curious with what some people could offer in terms of avenues to take it.
Obviously it's a couple that is down on their luck and barely managing to scrap by while Lucy has some... Issues.
nd barely managing to scrap by while Lucy has some... Issues.[/SPOILER]
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.
So a fresh idea I have in mind is a story about a young woman that is a model on Instagram, trying to make it big on social media like many other gorgeous young ladies. It's a big market with many eager people wanting fame and always trying to boost their number of flowers.
So our young lady is going to want to try new ways to get more likes and followers. Perhaps she is invited to a fashion gala and a good way to get some extra notice would be to wear a dress by one of the top fashion designers but she needs to get a meeting since he is busy.
Perhaps her manager finds a casting spot for her on a reality T.V show but she will need to impress the producer of the show to put her on it.
These are just a few ideas that would make sense to happen early on. I'm thinking there will be many various scenes and characters she will get involved with.
So our young lady is going to want to try new ways to get more likes and followers. Perhaps she is invited to a fashion gala and a good way to get some extra notice would be to wear a dress by one of the top fashion designers but she needs to get a meeting since he is busy.
Perhaps her manager finds a casting spot for her on a reality T.V show but she will need to impress the producer of the show to put her on it.
These are just a few ideas that would make sense to happen early on. I'm thinking there will be many various scenes and characters she will get involved with.
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.
---------
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.
Random Ideas:
- A random thought I've had lately could be a couple being a bit tight on money during college, or maybe it's just the girl. They together start doing some homemade amateur OnlyFans type porn to pay the bills. Or if it's just the girl she can look into some local porn around. This could turn interesting when classmates recognize her or even a teacher.
- Following the life of a young alternative type girl and all the naughty things she gets up to or all the dark things that occur to her.
- A married Psychologist being seduced by his femme fatale type client. Could also be substituted to an office pairing or school setting.
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.
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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