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Mx Male A Host of MxM Plots | Doubling Allowed

elysia

pretty little cynic
Joined
May 13, 2019
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𝓲 𝓷 𝓽 𝓻 𝓸 𝓭 𝓾 𝓬 𝓽 𝓲 𝓸 𝓷.
Hello, everyone! The name's Elysia. I am currently looking to play a pretty boy who
gets involved with a more traditionally masculine man. I'd strongly prefer to exclusively play
submissive/bottom characters, but I'm now willing to double up. If we double up, we can either
run the same storyline twice, with one of us playing the top and the other playing the bottom in
each, or we can each choose a plot and run them side by side. Obviously, if we double up, the
character I play for you doesn't have to fit the parameters I mentioned above; they can look
and behave however you'd like. I can reply anywhere ranging from multiple rapid fire posts a
day to once a week depending on my availability, I usually write one to five paragraphs, and I
pride myself on the quality of my writing.

As for what I'm expecting from you.
seeking M/M, tops/dominant characters preferred​
medium PM exclusive​
length Two or more well-written paragraphs​
𝔀 𝓻 𝓲 𝓽 𝓲 𝓷 𝓰.
Roleplays with me will be...

...written in third person​
...fairly balanced between plot and smut (either 50/50 or 40/60)​
...have a focus on character and relationship development​
...crafted equally by both of us​
𝓴 𝓲 𝓷 𝓴.

Roughness A little manhandling never hurt anyone​
Size differences In favor of YC​
Light bondage Collars, cuffs, etc​
Consensual humiliation Light, but still present​
Degrading talk/names Again, light
Extreme stamina On behalf of YC...​
Sexual exhaustion ...as a result for MC​
Blowjobs & deep throating For YC from MC <3​
Being pinned/held down YC to MC​
Dirty talk Especially from YC​
Photography/videotaping Whether or not MC knows​
𝓵 𝓲 𝓶 𝓲 𝓽 𝓼.
Vore, footplay, blood, vomit, scat, hyper/macro/micro, furries, anthro
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃



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It wasn't in Milo's nature, to depend on the kindness of strangers. Truthfully, it never had been. Even as a very, very little boy, Milo had known there was no sense in hedging his bets on the infinitesimal possibility that someone would choose to help him over helping themself. That was why he'd started stealing in the first place, wasn't it? If people wouldn't help him, he'd help himself—to their jewelry, and their watches, and whatever bits and bobs of value he could get his hands on. Things they could survive without, but which could pay his family's heating bill or buy them groceries for a month if he took them to the right pawn shop.

Perhaps it was no surprise, then, that he'd grown up to be wary. It was the natural product of leading a life such as his. As much outward friendliness as Milo may have shown to the people he met, they were all kept at arm's length. He'd laugh, and he'd smile, and he'd joke around, and he'd do it just sweetly enough that no one ever seemed to realize that his guard was still up. People had to prove themselves to Milo, before they were granted the elusive gift of his genuine trust.

And the twitchy, jumpy, nervous little nobody that Booker had brought along? He hadn't proven himself in the least.

"This is a piss poor idea," Milo said lowly, leaning against the passenger door and watching the newbie—Zack, he'd said his name was—scratch at the back of his neck, tittering his way through a conversation with Theo and Carter.

"Mhm, you already told me," Booker sighed, currently bent over to lean into the back seat, quietly and efficiently checking the guns they'd packed. They had never used one during a break-in, and Milo's stomach turned a little bit at the thought of it, but Booker insisted that they had to have them, as a precaution if nothing else. After all—

"Whatever happened to 'you can never be too careful?'" Milo huffed, unthinkingly lifting his hand to his lips and starting to chew on the nail of his thumb, "Ain't that what you're always saying?"

"It is. But if this haul's going to be as big as I think it is, we're gonna need an extra set of hands."

"Get Paulina, then."

"Can't. She's out of state, visiting her boyfriend."

"Waste of her time," Milo grumbled, "She can do a right side better than that pig."

"Yeah, you already told me that too," Booker said as he straightened up, propping one elbow up on the hood of the car. He rested his cheek against his knuckles, shooting Angelo a winning smile. When all he got in return was an unimpressed scowl, he heaved another sigh and reached out, grabbing Milo's wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. Instead, he threaded their fingers together, tilting his head to meet Milo's gaze. "Hey. You trust me, don't you?"

"'Course."

"Well, I trust Tommy, and Tommy trusts him," Booker said firmly, jerking his head towards the newcomer. Milo glanced between them, frowning, and Booker gave his hand a small squeeze. "I wouldn't bring someone along if I thought they couldn't handle it. You know that." A sly grin blossomed on his lips, and his arms slowly weaseled their way around Milo's waist. "'Sides, even if something did go wrong," he drawled, using his grip on Milo to sway them slowly from side to side, "You know I wouldn't let anything happen to you." Milo scoffed, but still, he couldn't seem to fight the grin that was forming on his lips.

"Alright, alright," he snorted, rolling his eyes, "You made your point, Romeo."

"Mm, that mean I'm outta the dog house?" Booker hummed, nuzzling at the corner of Milo's jaw, and Milo barked a laugh, shoving Booker's arms off his waist. He shot an amused look over his shoulder as he started to round the car, figuring he should check on their supplies.

"You've got no couth, you know that?" Milo teased, popping the trunk while Booker pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket, "Your daddy didn't raise you right."

"Uh-huh," Booker chuckled, lifting the lit cigarette to his lips. He looked back to the trio—Theo, Carter, and Zack—and the steady confidence on his face faded. His brow furrowed with uncertainty, and he tucked the cigarette between his teeth, breathing in deep. "You told me that too."

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Secret Keeper || modern

You know all the stereotypes about
small towns. Everyone knows everyone,
the local football team are worshipped
like gods, classes of students are stuck
together all the way from kindergarten
until they inevitably graduate from
the local little college. In one such town,
YC is king. He's the star quarterback.
He's friends with the entire popular
crowd, wanted by every girl. Wealthy,
revered, handsome. But he's got one
incredible secret: he hasn't actually been
interested in any of the girls he's dated.
Not one. In fact, no matter how much
he tries, he can't seem to muster attraction
towards any girls. He's gotten good at
faking it, though, and he's adamant that
he just hasn't found the right girl
yet. That's easier to accept than the
alternative. Complicating the matter, though,
is his attraction to obsession with passive interest
in MC. If YC is the king, MC is most definitely
a peasant. One of the very few openly
queer people in town, he comes from a poor family
that most of the town looks down upon, and YC
knows that he's spent the better
half of his life being bullied and harassed.
Even if he wasn't a man, he'd be the last
person on earth that YC could possibly be
with. But when they run into each other at a
party, both of them a little tipsy, YC
just can't help himself. And knowing how good
it was—having MC haunt his dreams,
lingering in his mind like a specter
how is YC supposed to keep
away from him?

,
,
,
,
,
.




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Teacher's Pet || modern

YC, a professor at a relatively small university,
is going through the midlife crisis to end all
midlife crises. Not that anyone would know,
looking in from the outside—he's good
at faking. Maybe that's why MC catches his eye.
Because YC is single (or trapped in a
loveless marriage) and lonely and scared of the
passage of time, and MC is beautiful
and young and bright. YC knows MC
has a crush on him. He wouldn't be the first student.
It's his responsibility, YC knows, to
pretend he doesn't notice. It'd be remarkably
wrong for him to take advantage of MC's interest;
not only is MC younger than him by a
substantial enough amount, but he's one of YC's
students. The inherent power imbalance those
factors created would make any relationship
between them wildly suspect. While
he may let himself guiltily fantasize about the
prospect, YC knows he can never actually
pursue MC. But then...he's so lonely. All he
wants is to connect to someone
who feels like he does, to find someone who
makes him happy. What's so wrong with that?
And lord knows that MC could use some support,
guidance, love. YC could provide all of those things,
couldn't he? They could be good for each other.
Shame burns in YC's gut like a roaring fire, but
still, he finds himself reaching for MC's hand...and,
soon enough, finds himself doing so much worse.

.
.
.
.
.
.









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The Great Imposter || fantasy

YC is an incredibly skilled magic user, and
he has been wildly in love
with MC for years, even though they've never
formally met. It doesn't come from a place
of malice. He has no desire to hoard MC to himself,
or to prevent him from pursuing any of his dreams.
All he wants he wants is to be a part of MC's
life, to love him and be loved by him in
return. A whole variety of factors have prevented
YC from even properly introducing himself to MC.
The most recent is MC's partner, who
he's been with for a few years. YC had hates
very few people, but MC's partner is most
certainly one of that number. MC's partner is a
good, honest man, who dotes on and cherishes MC
the way he deserves to be cherished. That, YC
supposes, is the problem: he's playing
the role that YC wants so desperately to play.
YC doesn't interfere, even when the partner
eventually proposes to MC. Then, the universe drops
an opportunity right in his lap: MC's partner
suffers a fairly severe head injury. He'll be
comatose for a while, and there's no telling what
his mental state will be like when he wakes up. Just
like that, MC's struck by a truly wonderful idea.
He'll take the partner's place. He can take
his comatose body, one of these nights, when it's
unguarded in the infirmary, and contain it in
some secure place. Using small bits of his DNA
—hair, nail clippings, the like—YC can create a
magical spell that allows him to take on the
partner's appearance. Any changes in his
behavior will be excused as the result
of the partner's head injury. He can slide
into MC's life, and fulfill his dreams
without putting MC through the pain of
losing his partner. Deep down, he knows
it's wrong. But the guilt, the shame,
it seems so small in comparison to the
euphoria he feels when MC comes
into the infirmary the next morning, and
throws his arms around him. And later, when
he has MC in bed beneath him, writhing
and moaning and somehow even
more beautiful than he imagined, YC
can't find it in himself to feel sorry.
~
 
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