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Fx Any Vague WIP Interest Thread (Now with vague wip f-list)

EweDoughNo

Toasty and Delicious
Joined
Jan 17, 2025
Location
PDT
 

Call Me Ewe
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I got my start in the RP scene a long, long time ago in a Yahoo! chat room far, far away. I am old enough to remember dialup. I do not care who you are behind your screen, but I prefer to write with individuals of a similar maturity and literacy level.​



The Basics
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Status
Writing Mon/Thur/Fri

Time Zone
PDT

Writing
Third Person
Past Tense
Example

Frequency
1-3 posts per week
After Work
Rarely on Weekends

Method
PMs

Kinks
F-List



Life Happens
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There are going to be days or times I can't make the trip to the Moon. Same for you. Whatever. I'll do my best to drop a line to let you know of a delay, but I might forget. Grant me clemency if I disappear for a few days when my mental health calls me away in self-loathing, and I can do the same.​

OOC Chatting
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The use of OOC chatter is welcome but not required. Do we need to become bffs? No. But knowing your general intent, ideas, plans, or other hopes for the narrative will help me better engage in a way that could be fulfilling for both of us. If you can get those hints dropped in your narrative passages, then that works for me. If you want to tell me all about your D&D character, I will listen. But be warned; you'll have to hear about all of mine.​


Yes, Please
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OOC Planning

Complex Characters

Emotive Narration


No, Thanks
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First Person

Bad Grammar

Poor Communication​
 

Genre & Plots
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My preferences for genre lean to the fantasy realm more than anything else. I come to escape the monotony of modernity. If you want to work in the world as we know it, you may have to add some seasoning to hold my interest. This is not necessarily a requirement. I am slowly branching into more modern settings and narratives. The right scenario and a good writer can convince me that the contemporary setting of a reality as we know it is not always boring.

Historical narratives are also of interest to me, though I still generally am more inclined if there is some sort of supernatural or mystical or apocalyptic element that deviates from absolute modernity for the era being explored.

I am not against playing in a fandom universe, but only if we use OC. I do not like playing canon characters and I prefer not to play against them as more than a passing guest appearance. Please be aware: I know jack shit about sci-fi fandoms or anime. If you bring any of that to me, I will be dumber than a sandwich about the nuance and character development involved. Not saying I won't try if the premise intrigues me, just saying you'll have to hold my hand a bit more.

At present, I do not have many plotlines percolating. If you do, throw them at me! I’ll take a chance to hear it out and maybe it will jumpstart my own creativity and get the ball rolling on more ideas we could explore. Or maybe I’ll take to your idea as is and then everyone wins.​

Expectations & Offerings
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Quality will always come before quantity, but it is nice to have a little something to work with. The more you give, the more you get. While my character will not know the things I do, it helps me contribute to the scene when I, as the author, know what your character is thinking. I don't need a constant inner monologue, but some hints to interact with.

Does this mean I want novellas every time? No. But I want enough to be nourished creatively. The amount I can write is strongly correlated directly with how much worthwhile information I have to volley up against. I absolutely do not mind if the posts get shorter, as long as they are still painting full pictures and developing the story. "Big" is not always a description of size, but substance.

Please have a fairly firm grip on the English written language. We all will make mistakes, that's fine. But creative language and developed descriptions are important to me. I won't be perfect, but I do my best to give a post a quick re-scan before submitting to catch any major errors, but even I will end up sending text with flaws. I just ask that we both approach the narrative with best intent and some amount of willingness to abide by basic grammatical guidelines.​

Ratios & Balance
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I love smut. Might even say I'm a slut for it. Wouldn't be here otherwise. But it comes with the plot. Package deal. Exact ratio to be determined with my partner depending on what our scenario calls for. If you want me to stay engaged in our story, please be an involved writing partner. Give me substance. I want to actually care about our characters on some level.

Does this mean we can't have difficult relationships or confrontational interactions? Not at all. I love tension in a narrative. But if the characters you bring to the table present nothing but challenge without a narrative pathway for development, it may be difficult to continue beyond a single story arc one-shot scenario. If we both agree it's just a single quick tale, then I am totally fine with it. For long-term narratives, however, I need to want to stay involved which means I need to want both our characters to grow.​

Kinks & Limits
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When it comes to kinks and likes, I’m on a journey of discovery. Help me figure out what I am into! My F-List will develop over time. Anything listed in the 'Maybe' section means I either have not tried it or not yet developed an opinion on it. In other words, just ask and if it fits our narrative, I will probably be amenable to it. Same goes for anything not specifically listed.

In general, I am inclined to submissive characters, love a good forced-proximity setting, and enjoy well-done scarousal tactics. There is something fascinating in the primal way fear and excitement can interplay, though it is a delicate line to walk. I am a fan of themes that deal with corruption, loss of innocence, and sexual awakenings. Power dynamics are also a favorite of mine, with characters exploring the ways they do or don't have control in a situation. I love a slow burn, the buildup, flirtation and foreplay.

I avoid scenarios involving incest, bathroom activities, and pure violence. I have very strong reasons against the first, no interest in the second, and will only dabble with the third as part of narrative scene setting and backstory development, but no interest in writing out gruesome violence happening to either of our characters in context of the active scene.​




  • As mentioned above, I do not currently have any specific notions for plots or scenarios, but in general, I am inclined to accept offers that involve themes I enjoy. Here are a (very) few examples to give you an idea of the kinds of dynamics I am drawn to.​

    xxxx ✤ Genres ✤ xxxx
    ✤ Pairings ✤​
    ✤ Scenarios ✤​

    Fantasy
    Historical
    Post-Apocalyptic
    Horror
    Supernatural

    MCYC

    MortalSupernatural
    PrisonerCaptor
    NaiveExperienced

    Unlikely Pairs
    Shifting Power Dynamics
    Forced Proximity
    Adversaries to Lovers
 
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  • Some examples of my style of writing, if that is a thing you are curious about previewing.​

    Scene Setting


    This is an excerpt from a narrative scene-setting I did for a Regency-era story set in an alternate reality where vampires, werewolves, etc are all very real and known to hunt at night. The text herein constitutes two of my posts, excluding my partner's interlude as our characters were still establishing themselves in the environment. This is also one of the very rare examples of me writing male, though female is my preference.

    Male VampireMale Hunter
    Historical, Fantasy​



    Drifting delicately behind the horizon, a blood-soaked sun slipped to sleep behind the misting blanket of the coming night chill. The cascading tree lines and pristinely groomed flower gardens cradled glimmering spots where strategically placed reflecting pools, fountains, and similar water features had been installed to perfect the evening's ambiance. The buzz of pending events was carried on the wind in the clatter of carriage carts and the thrumming of decorated steed's hooves along a long and winding path to a country estate that had remained closed from viewing for longer than any in the Ton could remember.

    It would have been miraculous that the estate lands would admit guests. The fact that this admittance was only permitted for a single night was extremely tantalizing and exciting; the estate's renowned White Garden had never been open for public viewing, as far as the average human in high society knew. It had, of course, been traversable in the past, though no one under a hundred years old would have known that. The White Garden at Northaven Abbey was said to be of unparalleled beauty, an artful combination of floral arrangements, and natural growths of pure white petals that shone like dewdrops and diamonds beneath the moon.

    The event called for an extensive carriage ride for all attendees, as the estate was nestled far from even a country neighbor's walk for a call. Elites in society were forgoing their summer in the city to be in attendance though many of the families felt it was a sacrifice worth the change. As it had circulated, the young Lord Ravenham was said to be appearing in public for the first time. As the inheritor of the estate, he recently arrived from studying abroad and was establishing a residence within for the first time in his known life. Added rumors indicated he was young, educated, and attractive. Furthermore, the gossipers never failed to mention the two most important traits: that he was wealthy and single.

    Along the long, winding pathway of tree-lined roads that led to the house, travelers could see little of the land and even less of the home. The reverse effect benefitted a Lord upon his terrace. He watched as the time drew nearer to greet his guests with a dead anxiety. It was pending and he did not look forward to its approach, but he was determined and resolved to his decision.

    The young Lord turned from his perch and retreated. He would greet them all early enough; he should enjoy what quiet he had left. His debut would be too soon.

    Guests mingled and chatted, enjoying the chill of a summer eve and reveling in the vibrancy of light that starkly contrasted the shadow of night in this unique space. Blooms of white and placid water all caught the beams of the moon and radiated back in kind. Throughout the winding pathways of the garden, an ethereal sort of glimmer misted between the patrons, filling their heads with as much giddy lightness as their never-empty wine glasses and champagne flutes were apt to disseminate as well.

    Despite the anticipated dread many revelers may have held at the prospect of a midnight ball, the general atmosphere and ambiance was full of cheery brightness. Waitstaff slipped seamlessly through the throngs of visitors ensuring that beverages and treats were never far from reach. A uniform white frock adorned each of the attending servants, giving the impression that they were of the blooms themselves and had separated from their branches to lavish gratitude to their visitors in the form of spirits and cakes.

    Beyond the ample acreage of the property grounds, guests were permitted entrance to the estate's main ballroom, which of course opened to the grand terrace overlooking the gardens from above. Beyond the expansive dancing space and tables around the fringe of the room, a publicly accessible dining hall allowed for the weary to rest in a more subdued environment. The tables were laden with sweets, meats, breads, and cheeses from all import; if the young Lord Ravenham were not aiming to showcase the weight of his purse, he certainly failed to suppress the scale of his accessibility to rare goods and fine delicacies.

    Shortly after the last carriage arrived at the gate and the last arrivals made their way through the yawning maw of the entrance hall, Lord Ravenham was informed. It was time to make his, what did they call this? Debut. What nonsense, he thought with derision. Regardless of his feelings on the social habits of the elite, it was more than time for him to build new connections in the world. He told himself this was pragmatically a move to ensure future business dealings and a reliable stream of income. He also told himself he didn't care about making social ties or forming bonds with any of these people. He pretended he was not lying to himself.

    "Alright," he reluctantly acquiesced to the urgings of the head of house staff who insisted he had been sulking alone long enough. "Let us go then."

    On the terrace overlooking the gardens, the musicians faded their playing to allow for the clear signaling sound of what was unmistakably a church bell. The tolling heralded the host's arrival and any patrons who happened to be upon the marble landing were the most fortunate as they had the first glimpses of the mysterious proprietor as he glided through the grand open doorway from the ballroom to stand haloed in golden candlelight.

    Ensconced in the finest white velvet suit, the darkness of his raven hair contrasted sharply with his angelic arrival. Beneath the outer layer of his cleanly brushed jacket, the young man donned embroidered silks, all patterning swirls of white thread upon delicate alabaster fabrics. Evidently, he took the estate's namesake garden to heart.

    Murmurs arose immediately as he came into view, suppositions of his age and temperament leaping around the room like fireflies. Was he yet in his third decade? It seemed unlikely. His face was youthful and smooth, yet he carried himself with the gravitas and stature of an established ruler.

    "My new friends," he began, raising his hands to address those in attendance. "I am honored by your presence here this evening. I understand how different these circumstances are for such an event, though I could not shame my ancestors by opening the home for you all in anything less than its peak splendor."

    He flashed a smile that lit up like the reflecting pools in the gardens beyond. "As the newest proprietor of Northaven Abbey, I, Nathaniel Aether Ravenham, wish you all a fond welcome. The White Garden has been the pride of the Ravenham family for longer than I can say." His smile turned to a knowing grin. He was speaking truth on that, at least. He knew, but he could not say.

    "It touches my heart deeply to have such a fine reception of individuals present in welcoming my arrival. I pray you all will indulge a few requests. I am sure you have noticed certain stairwells or doorways, garden paths and occasional walkways have barriers erected. Please, these are in aims of protecting my guests. As the estate is of considerable age, there are many parts of the property which are unreliable in construct, and I do not wish for any injury to occur. Until I am able to complete renovations on these areas, I kindly ask that those indications to stay away be heeded."

    Folding his hands behind his back, the gentleman stood tall. He was lean and lithe in build, though he did not seem to lack strength. The musculature of his physique spoke to an athlete who prioritized flexibility in his strength, dexterity in his power, and an overall health and vigor in his vitality.

    "Now, I am tired of hearing my own voice," he chuckled warmly. "Please, let us continue this magical evening and become better acquainted one and all."

    The musicians began a lively jaunting tune to encourage frivolities, and the young lord breathed a sigh of relief, immediately stepping to the side to address a member of his staff who had approached with a query.

    At least that is over, Nathaniel thought.


    Flirtatious Foreplay


    From a scene set in the D&D universe, a rogue drow finds a human monk alone one evening after he wandered from his campsite to meditate. She thinks he is easy pretty to pickpocket. She discovers quickly he has other things she can steal. Omitted my partner's replies, indicated by line breaks.

    Female Dark ElfMale Human
    Fantasy, Adventure​



    Delighted in finding the young man no longer able to maintain his completely cool composure, the dark elf kneeling between his feet chuckled softly. Not wanting to rush the experience for the poor sheltered lamb, she slipped again down towards the ground and ebbed her shoulders between his knees, crawling to perch again behind him, but making sure he had a good view of her backend before she disappeared from his view.

    Though she was admittedly making a potentially dangerous move, she was careful to keep her hands against his body at all times. The acrobatics of doing such were a little convoluted, but more than feasible for her. While her physical skills were not as expansive as his when it came to quick motions and rapid changes of flexibility, her own ability to slither and snake through the grass with a contortionists sort of fluidity was no less admirable. Her movements were just slower, rounder, more enticing to the eye.

    From behind him, dark hands slipped around his thighs, rising up the front and just barely nudging either side of the weakness he allowed himself to display.

    “Oh my,” her soft voice was in his ear now, humming delicately. After her hot breath had a chance to tease the skin at the side of his face, she thought better of the position and ran her tongue abruptly along the side of his neck, up until his earlobe fell into her mouth which she only released after a teasing suck at the soft cartilage. Her hands, meanwhile, were tugging back on the front of his hips so that he pressed back against all of the curves on her front side.

    “What do you think?” Her teeth grazed the spot she had just wetted, merely skipping the surface in a teasing manner to further heighten his experience. “Little nibble?” Again the husky chuckle flitted over his neck, one of her hands venturing boldly to cradle the part of him she suspected had never felt a woman’s hand before - she wondered if it had ever even felt his own.

    She did not grab or pull on him, just allowed the curve of her palm to cradle him tenderly, which she figured would be enough to keep him preoccupied. Between her hand on his bulge, lips on his ear, and teeth at his neck, he was not likely to notice the other fingers that slipped into his pocket to retrieve the pouch he had scolded her for trying to collect earlier.



    The mysterious woman in the dark purred and hummed against the human’s shoulder as he considered her request. Despite the rather aggressive approach she took in putting her hands wherever she pleased, she was at least respectful enough to permission before she crossed too many boundaries. She was elated to hear that the sheltered lad was willing to have a little fun with her.

    “Mm, brave boy,” she whispered to his ear, chasing her tongue over his neck again, then gently grazing her teeth along the line. She didn’t actually bite, but raked her pearly whites against his damp, warm skin to give him a hint of what it was like to have his flesh tasted by a complete stranger. Her lips and tongue slid from his ear and down his neck, nudging the collar of his attire to sample his shoulder as well. Each hot, wet kiss was chased with ever more ravenous pressure from her teeth, though she never fully nipped in such a way to leave a mark.

    Distracted as he may have been by her mouth, the hand gently draped at his growing bulge put a little more attention towards him there. Through his now-slightly-less-loose-fitting trousers, she hugged the shape of his excitement between deft fingers. Her other hand, meanwhile, slipped her ill-gotten-gains from his pocket and into one of her own with nary a sound. Then that hand joined its mate, teasing so lightly below his belt.

    Her breasts, still bound in her leather armor but nonetheless pronounced, snuggled against the firm of his back. Her arms were wrapped around him from behind, testing his resolve in her hands. Pushing his limits again as he froze in her grasp, her lips met his earlobe again, sucking briefly and then teasing with husky words.

    “Just how brave are you, little lamb?” One of her hands snuck fingers down his belly, threatening to dive beneath the cloth if he would so grant her permission.

    She liked fun. Thief or not, she had a code of honor when it came to fun. Permission first, fun second. Besides, it was way more enjoyable for her if he admitted he actually wanted her to go further.



    Low, languid, lusty laughter crept into his ear. For the first time, her lips met his cheek in an almost chastened kiss. It would have been sweet and affectionate if not for flick of her tongue immediately following at his ear.

    His hands at her hips made her smile, but she released her grip at his waist and wiggled her way out of his grasp. But it was just for a moment. She stepped around to face him instead, hands briefly holding his cheeks so he was forced to look into her burning red stare.

    "Do not worry little lamb. I will take care of you."

    She smiled, a predatory expression on her sculpted features, be he did not have long to process it before she was dropping again to crouch between his feet. On her way down, she made no effort to avoid a collision with his poor, neglected manhood. She might have gone out of her way to make sure he brushed against her belly, her bust, her chin.

    Immediately, having been given approval to do so, she pulled the band of his trousers low in the front, releasing him from his fabric prison and gazing at the less-ill-gotten-gains with delight. Quickly but gently, both of her hands held him softly, slipping forward and back along his length as she cooed to him, “Aw, too tight indeed. Let me help you.”

    She leaned in let her breath fall against his exposed sensitive skin, spared a glance up and gave him a smile that was equal parts saccharine and sinister. “If you need to hold on to something,” she reached one hand free of its current focus to take his wrist and send his fingers into her hair.

    Then, if he could not or would not look, he would feel the unmistakable warm, wet pressure of her tongue tasting him again. She anticipated this being a rather quick finish as the poor boy was clearly out of his depth. Before he could make a mess, she slipped the tip of him between her lips, teasing a more all-encompassing warmth and giving him a sample of her skills, as well as a place to satiate an urge he probably did not even know he had.
 
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