Hello there. c:
My real name is of no importance to you, so you may refer to me as Della or Mae. I am a twenty-five year old female looking for some stimulating role-plays to occupy what little free time I have between university and my part-time job. I will attempt to make this thread as short and sweet as possible, so please do not hesitate to ask questions.
Just so we are all on the same page, I want to write with people of exceptional caliber, people who can push me to improve my own writing, not people who are merely here for a fuck fest. I will be meticulous when it comes to sifting through inquiries.
Guidelines:
Writing Skills ❧ Since this is an adult forum, I should not have to mention my expectation for adequate spelling, grammar, punctuation… et cetera. Unfortunately, I see many people around here who have questionable grasps of the English language and it is a huge pet peeve of mine. I understand the notion of people making careless errors because they do not want to review what they wrote. Fine. However, most of the time I can differentiate between a careless error and blatant ignorance. The latter will not receive a response on my end.
Characters ❧ I play pseudo-dominant female characters in heterosexual pairings. By 'pseudo-dominant' I mean characters that will not submit by their own free will. They are stubborn, sassy, and think they are in charge, but in reality they are never in charge. I cannot and will not play the stereotypical submissive character that caters to your character's every whim and has no other purpose than to suck your character's dick. My characters will always be in their early to mid-twenties. Position-wise, they can be on top or bottom. I am looking to play opposite of dominant male characters who are in their mid-twenties to early thirties… no older, period. Another thing: do not tell me what my character should (or will) look like. You may certainly make suggestions if you have a preference, but in the end it is my character and I get the final say. Throwing a hissy fit because I will not play your blonde bombshell is not attractive.
Likes and Dislikes ❧ Located here.
Content ❧ I would like an equal balance of sex and plot. Never completely sex and never completely plot. Sometimes I may favor one over the other, so it never hurts to ask for my current preference. As far as sex goes, I favor foreplay over intercourse due to past experiences. "He rammed his penis in and out of her vagina" gets boring and repetitious by the third or fourth time you say it, so unless you are creative and have an extensive vocabulary I would rather place less emphasis on that portion of the role-play.
Post Length ❧ Quality over quantity all the way. Just give me some beautiful prose that I can respond to and post length will be irrelevant.
Fandom ❧ Nine times out of ten, I want canon character x original character pairings where I play the original character. There may be a couple of instances where I want original character x original character and canon character x canon character pairings.
Availability ❧ Like I said earlier, I am looking for role-plays to entertain me when I have free time between university and my part-time job. Some weeks I may be able to post once per day, other weeks I may only post once. It all depends on my levels of inspiration and stress. I am in a very demanding program and have no intention on putting role-plays before real life. If you are the type of person who needs constant replies, I am most definitely not the person for you.
Venues ❧ I will only role-play through Blue Moon (private messages and private threads) or e-mail.
Inklings:
Cravings will be listed in bold, red font.
→ teacher-student relationships that are not solely based on sex
→ foreign characters with thick accents (Hispanic, Spanish, and Middle Eastern men are quite lovely)
→ foreign countries
→ interracial relationships [but not black x white; something less common]
→ historical settings [Nazi Germany, United States Civil War, Colonial India, Roaring Twenties, Jazz Age, Prohibition Era]
→ characters being deceived (intentionally or unintentionally) by others [e.g. a Schutzstaffel officer in a relationship with a Jewish girl disguised as a fellow Shutzstaffel officer's daughter]
→ arranged marriages [for political reasons, for financial stability, for selfish desires to get rid of the bride/daughter, et cetera]
→ broken friendships/families that have no chance at being reconciled (and the people who are stuck in the middle of such disastrous events)
→ people meeting and falling in love in all the wrong places [e.g. a doctor and his terminally ill patient, a dance instructor and a young ballet prodigy, a mobster and a speakeasy singer, et cetera]
→ artists and the people behind their inspiration
→ love triangles [two men who want the same woman; whether they share or not is up for debate]
→ fantasy themes that involve elven kings and human girls ["in his realm, you are at his mercy"]
→ possessive and disgustingly obsessive characters
→ coincidences that are not so coincidental
→ kidnappings that are not motivated by sexual desire
→ stockholm syndrome / lima syndrome
→ language barriers between characters
→ drunken first kisses
→ high school sweethearts who meet up again after college graduation
→ naive young women and men who are old enough to know better
→ bad boys who seduce good girls [or good girls who seduce bad boys and get in way over their heads]
→ the dark and gritty side of humans [something besides sunshine and daisies; give me characters who find no fault in using and abusing others]
→ widowed men who find women that bear uncanny resemblances to their deceased wives
→ sophisticated couples who do nothing but fight behind closed doors
→ delicate, fragile young women with sharp wits and even sharper tongues
→ hipsters
→ edgy, beautiful alternative boys
→ dangerous mafia bosses and innocent bystanders
→ reincarnated lovers [where one remembers the other and the other has no recollection at all]
→ people who have seen each other in their dreams [but not in real life]
→ classic seductive vampires [not the garbage found in Twilight]
→ handsome demons who lust after mortal girls
→ therapy sessions that end with the patient feeling worse
→ something where I can play a mermaid
→ interrogation torture
→ something based on this picture (SFW; does not necessarily have to be Hades and Persephone)
→ making a deal with the Devil
→ something based on this creepypasta (fair warning: it's thirty-some minutes long)
→ something based on "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" with a female Johnny (Josie?)
→ the boogeyman
→ hitchhiking (something like the rides with strangers demo?)
→ something horror based
→ BBC Sherlock (Jim Moriarty x OC)
→ Candyman (Candyman x OC)
→ Dragon Ball Z (Future Trunks x OC / Vegeta x OC / Android 17 x OC / Jeice x OC / Cell x OC / Super Buu x OC)
→ Dragon Ball Xenoverse (Trunks x OC / Mira x OC / Demigra x OC)
→ The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion (Lucien Lachance x OC)
→ The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim (Ondolemar x OC / Quaranir x OC / Thalmor Justiciar OC x Nord OC)
→ Far Cry 3 (Hoyt x OC / Vaas x OC)
→ Far Cry 4 (Pagan Min x OC)
→ Final Fantasy Dissidia
→ Final Fantasy VII (Tseng x OC / Reno x OC / Rufus x OC / Sephiroth x OC / Genesis x OC / Yazoo x OC)
→ Final Fantasy XII (Gabranth x OC / Vayne x OC)
→ Heathers (OC J.D. x OC Veronica)
→ The Hobbit (Thranduil x OC / Thorin Oakenshield x OC)
→ The Hunger Games (OC x OC)
→ James Bond: Casino Royale (Le Chiffre x OC)
→ Kingdom Hearts (Xemnas x OC / Ansem x OC / Apprentice Xehanort x OC / Terra x OC / Axel x OC / Xigbar x OC / Braig x OC / Marluxia x OC)
→ The Legend of Zelda
→ NBC Hannibal (Hannibal Lecter x OC / Mason Verger x OC)
→ Pokémon (N x OC / Giovanni x OC / Team Rocket Member x Trainer / Team Plasma Member x Trainer / Gym Leader x Trainer / Suggestions)
→ Resident Evil: The Darkside Chronicles (Alfred Ashford x OC)
→ Resident Evil Four (Leon Kennedy x OC)
→ Resident Evil Five (Albert Wesker x OC / Albert Wesker x Jill Valentine / Ricardo Irving x OC / Chris Redfield x OC / Chris Redfield x Jill Valentine / Chris Redfield x Sheva Alomar)
→ Resident Evil Six (Jake Muller x Sherry Birkin / Jake Muller x OC / Chris Redfield x OC / Leon Kennedy x OC / Piers Nivans x OC)
→ Slender (Slenderman x OC)
Send me a private message if you are interested. Please include the following information when you contact me: your name (or what you would like me to call you), your own likes and dislikes, a plot or two if you have any, and anything else you think would be of importance. Do not send me links to your own request thread or copy and paste your own guidelines; if I wanted to look at your request thread, mine would not exist. Plus, I find it rather insulting.
Also, for those of you who would like to see my style of writing, here you go:
If only her parents could see her now — spitting out renditions of popular jazz songs with a Lucky Strike dangling from her burgundy-painted lower lip, Esme Oates was living the life that any seventeen year old would wish for. It was not entirely wrong to say that her mother and father were unmindful of her current location; rather, they knew she was singing with that pretty little voice of hers for spare change while under the watchful eye of her fiancé, an amateur stockbroker, and apparently that was good enough for them.
How wrong they were.
Cecil sat in the rear with three of his co-workers, his fingers never leaving his glass of Stolichnaya, his eyes never leaving the five-foot-six-inch creature on stage. He could barely hear the others prattling on about this and that over the boisterous trumpets, so he would nod every time he thought a statement was directed toward himself, his eyes still focused on his fiancée. To say that she was beautiful would have been an understatement. With her copper-red finger waves and willowy figure, she was gorgeous. Of course, she was more than a pretty face, but the man took pride in knowing he had snagged a keeper.
Esme thought otherwise.
She breezed on through ‘Avalon’ and ‘Margie’, unfazed by Cecil as he tried his damnedest to get her to look at him. She would look right through him, a dull glaze settled over her green eyes. Her mother and father had the worst taste when it came to potential suitors — influential men with limited, insipid views. It had taken weeks to convince Cecil to let her sing and have a good night out, and he had the audacity to follow her to make sure her fun was limited.
She stubbed her cigarette on the heel of her shoe and flicked it to the side. It was time for her break, which would have amounted to five or six minutes, and instead of going to greet Cecil she lingered on stage with her back turned in his direction. She removed her compact mirror with intentions to spot-check her makeup. What she saw did not displease her: her eyes were outlined with mascara and kohl, the dark red tint to her lips had yet to run, and her rouge still looked quite nice against her pale complexion. She wore a beige-colored dress that came a few inches above her knees, exposing her stocking-cladded stick thin legs. The dress was straight and loose and covered her boyish figure. She wore a long bead of pearls around her neck. And if one looked close enough, they could see a dust of freckles over her button nose. She was everything her parents hated about the younger generation. No wonder they had set her up with such a prude.
She closed the compact and set it aside with her other belongings, turning around to face the crowd as her break ended. There was no time for her to open her mouth before the door was kicked in, a blur of blue following. Esme stared in shock, her mouth agape and eyes wide. The Fuzz. What an appropriate way to end her night. Unless she high-tailed it out of there right now, she knew no good would come out of this. She was underage and the scent of Luckies was still on her breath.
“Go get in the car.”
For the first time in her life she was glad to see Cecil.
“Now. I’ll grab your things.”
Esme did not protest. She peeled herself away from the microphone and fled from the scene; going through the only exit she could see, she panicked as soon as she felt a hand grab out for her delicate shoulder. She reacted faster than her common sense would allow her by elbowing the mysterious person hard in the gut, and when the mysterious person retaliated in shock, pain, or whatever it was that made the person let go, she bolted from the back of the bar and down the street.
Licking at her lips, she scanned the streets for Cecil’s Ford Model T. It took seconds before she found what appeared to be Cecil’s ride, and she leaped at the opportunity as she pulled open the door and hopped in between who Esme thought to be Cecil’s co-workers. The scent of her Chanel No. 5 quickly flooded the car.
She could still feel her heart racing, her muscles trembling even after minutes had passed since the car fled from the scene, but the look of fear had passed and now a wide toothed grin was bestowed on her face. What a rush! What excitement! Well, now it was exciting to look back on what had just happened. “Talk about a—" she began, her voice trailing off as she finally bothered to look at the three men, none of whom were familiar.
“You three,” she stated obviously, “are neither Cecil nor his co-workers.”
How wrong they were.
Cecil sat in the rear with three of his co-workers, his fingers never leaving his glass of Stolichnaya, his eyes never leaving the five-foot-six-inch creature on stage. He could barely hear the others prattling on about this and that over the boisterous trumpets, so he would nod every time he thought a statement was directed toward himself, his eyes still focused on his fiancée. To say that she was beautiful would have been an understatement. With her copper-red finger waves and willowy figure, she was gorgeous. Of course, she was more than a pretty face, but the man took pride in knowing he had snagged a keeper.
Esme thought otherwise.
She breezed on through ‘Avalon’ and ‘Margie’, unfazed by Cecil as he tried his damnedest to get her to look at him. She would look right through him, a dull glaze settled over her green eyes. Her mother and father had the worst taste when it came to potential suitors — influential men with limited, insipid views. It had taken weeks to convince Cecil to let her sing and have a good night out, and he had the audacity to follow her to make sure her fun was limited.
She stubbed her cigarette on the heel of her shoe and flicked it to the side. It was time for her break, which would have amounted to five or six minutes, and instead of going to greet Cecil she lingered on stage with her back turned in his direction. She removed her compact mirror with intentions to spot-check her makeup. What she saw did not displease her: her eyes were outlined with mascara and kohl, the dark red tint to her lips had yet to run, and her rouge still looked quite nice against her pale complexion. She wore a beige-colored dress that came a few inches above her knees, exposing her stocking-cladded stick thin legs. The dress was straight and loose and covered her boyish figure. She wore a long bead of pearls around her neck. And if one looked close enough, they could see a dust of freckles over her button nose. She was everything her parents hated about the younger generation. No wonder they had set her up with such a prude.
She closed the compact and set it aside with her other belongings, turning around to face the crowd as her break ended. There was no time for her to open her mouth before the door was kicked in, a blur of blue following. Esme stared in shock, her mouth agape and eyes wide. The Fuzz. What an appropriate way to end her night. Unless she high-tailed it out of there right now, she knew no good would come out of this. She was underage and the scent of Luckies was still on her breath.
“Go get in the car.”
For the first time in her life she was glad to see Cecil.
“Now. I’ll grab your things.”
Esme did not protest. She peeled herself away from the microphone and fled from the scene; going through the only exit she could see, she panicked as soon as she felt a hand grab out for her delicate shoulder. She reacted faster than her common sense would allow her by elbowing the mysterious person hard in the gut, and when the mysterious person retaliated in shock, pain, or whatever it was that made the person let go, she bolted from the back of the bar and down the street.
Licking at her lips, she scanned the streets for Cecil’s Ford Model T. It took seconds before she found what appeared to be Cecil’s ride, and she leaped at the opportunity as she pulled open the door and hopped in between who Esme thought to be Cecil’s co-workers. The scent of her Chanel No. 5 quickly flooded the car.
She could still feel her heart racing, her muscles trembling even after minutes had passed since the car fled from the scene, but the look of fear had passed and now a wide toothed grin was bestowed on her face. What a rush! What excitement! Well, now it was exciting to look back on what had just happened. “Talk about a—" she began, her voice trailing off as she finally bothered to look at the three men, none of whom were familiar.
“You three,” she stated obviously, “are neither Cecil nor his co-workers.”
Thank you! I hope to start plotting with some of you lovely people soon.
P.S. I am not as much of a dick as I make myself out to be here, but my standards are definitely high. Don't waste your time by wasting mine.
