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EverySecondCounts
Take Me back To Eden
- Joined
- Apr 14, 2020
- Location
- UK 🇬🇧
Rules and fluff
I am ghost friendly. But a quick word to say you're no longer writing will be welcomed.
If we are compatible, we can discuss a plot and have that trust between us that conversion is kept between us as an absolute bare minimum. I understand that life happens, but if you don't have the time for roleplay then don't start one in the first place. If things change for either one of us, as I said, conversation will be kept between us as a bare minimum.
No, I'm not expecting you to always be on and writing. Because hell, I won't be! But I really want someone I can rely on for my ideas and someone I can trust with my stories. Not someone who magically has the time to seek out partners and discuss roleplays but not actually write.
I am ghost friendly. But a quick word to say you're no longer writing will be welcomed.
If we are compatible, we can discuss a plot and have that trust between us that conversion is kept between us as an absolute bare minimum. I understand that life happens, but if you don't have the time for roleplay then don't start one in the first place. If things change for either one of us, as I said, conversation will be kept between us as a bare minimum.
No, I'm not expecting you to always be on and writing. Because hell, I won't be! But I really want someone I can rely on for my ideas and someone I can trust with my stories. Not someone who magically has the time to seek out partners and discuss roleplays but not actually write.
Responding
Here's the thing, I usually respond with an average of 2 - 4 paragraphs. I currently have been struggling with longer posts. So don't feel like you have to write a novel with me. There's no pressure. The bare minimum I ask of you is one or two paragraphs. I don't have any solid reply times. Sometimes I reply multiple times a day or once a week, it depends on how often you reply. I'm currently out of work so I have a lot of free time.
I have discord, in which we can remain in contact and keep updates and chat and possibly roleplay depending on your preferences.
Here's the thing, I usually respond with an average of 2 - 4 paragraphs. I currently have been struggling with longer posts. So don't feel like you have to write a novel with me. There's no pressure. The bare minimum I ask of you is one or two paragraphs. I don't have any solid reply times. Sometimes I reply multiple times a day or once a week, it depends on how often you reply. I'm currently out of work so I have a lot of free time.
I have discord, in which we can remain in contact and keep updates and chat and possibly roleplay depending on your preferences.
The air is heavy with the acrid stench of death and decay, a putrid fog that rolls through the cobbled streets of Victorian London. The sun, weak and pale, struggles to pierce the thick smog that hangs low, casting an eerie twilight even at midday. You stride through the chaos, your plague doctor's mask sharp and angular, a sinister silhouette against the filth and ruin.
Your long coat billows behind you, heavy with the weight of the tools of your grim trade—tinctures, bandages, and the herbs meant to ward off the very pestilence you battle. The city is alive with dread, the wails of the sick and dying blending with the desperate murmurs of the living.
And then, amid the misery, she appears.
Draped in white, she moves like a phantom through the gloom, her veil shimmering with a celestial glow that defies the filth around her. The fabric of her gown is pristine, untouched by the grime that clings to every corner of the city. Her hands, gloved and steady, hold a satchel of supplies as if she were an angel come to bring solace to the damned.
The moment your eyes meet—though hers are obscured by the soft veil—an unspoken connection roots you both in place. Her presence is magnetic, a breath of purity in the foulest of nights. There's a strength in her bearing, a quiet defiance against the plague that seeks to consume all.
The world, with its cries of agony and despair, fades into the background. For a moment, there is only the two of you, bound by the knowledge of what must be done and the fleeting, fragile hope that perhaps, together, you can wrest something good from the clutches of this relentless darkness.
"Doctor," she says, her voice soft yet resolute, and the word is both a greeting and a vow. You nod, the beak of your mask dipping slightly, and with that simple exchange, the partnership is forged.
The fight against death has a new ally, and for the first time in years, the grim path ahead does not feel so lonely.
Your long coat billows behind you, heavy with the weight of the tools of your grim trade—tinctures, bandages, and the herbs meant to ward off the very pestilence you battle. The city is alive with dread, the wails of the sick and dying blending with the desperate murmurs of the living.
And then, amid the misery, she appears.
Draped in white, she moves like a phantom through the gloom, her veil shimmering with a celestial glow that defies the filth around her. The fabric of her gown is pristine, untouched by the grime that clings to every corner of the city. Her hands, gloved and steady, hold a satchel of supplies as if she were an angel come to bring solace to the damned.
The moment your eyes meet—though hers are obscured by the soft veil—an unspoken connection roots you both in place. Her presence is magnetic, a breath of purity in the foulest of nights. There's a strength in her bearing, a quiet defiance against the plague that seeks to consume all.
The world, with its cries of agony and despair, fades into the background. For a moment, there is only the two of you, bound by the knowledge of what must be done and the fleeting, fragile hope that perhaps, together, you can wrest something good from the clutches of this relentless darkness.
"Doctor," she says, her voice soft yet resolute, and the word is both a greeting and a vow. You nod, the beak of your mask dipping slightly, and with that simple exchange, the partnership is forged.
The fight against death has a new ally, and for the first time in years, the grim path ahead does not feel so lonely.
I would love this to be long-term, focusing on story and romance with good amounts of smut. The dark and ominous setting where they are constantly surrounded by death and dying, can they get through this depressive time together? Or will it destroy them too?
Quick Notes:
* No, I'm not looking for the 'doms' that make the woman give him blow jobs or immediately have sex. I am all about drawing out mcs pleasure. Teaching discipline, etc.
* I don't enjoy playing submissive girlie's.
* Although light bondage is just fine, please avoid heavy bondage unless you are prepared to skip ahead in time, as it is far too boring to play a character that can move, act or talk.
2 - 4 paragraphs, please.
3rd person only.
Yes:
Foreplay, Fisting, roughness, weapon play, oral, clothed sex, teasing, clit play, pet names, dirty talking, Beasts, Squirting, pussy slapping, anal, unprotected sex, risk of being caught, being watched, risk of pregnancy.
50/50: (If required in the story)
Bad ends, piss play. Cannibalism.
Limits: Poop, vomit, dismemberment, wound fucking, cervical penetration, bimbofication
I really look forward to hearing from you.
F List (warning)
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