Hello! I am searching for new roleplay partners, as my chats are now empty. I prefer gxg pairings, but I will do any. However, I will only play a male character in double ups or bxb pairings. I am hoping to write a jaw dropping romance. I adore fantasy, historical-fiction, and sci-fi, however I am not picky on sub-genres. My rules are simple:

1. Must be 18 or older. I am not a minor so I will not talk to minors.

2. Be patient! I am a nurse so I work long hours. Some days I’ll give more responses than others.

3. Ask about triggers. My list is short and simple and shouldn’t be an issue.

4. Communicate!

5. Be literate to novella. Must use third person language. Use “” not **. I’m not extremely picky on length but do try your best. Quality over quantity.

6. Have fun and get lost within the story 💕

DM me if interested! I will past my writing sample below:

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. The assassin woke slowly as she felt the cool rain drops pitter patter onto the pale skin of her forehead. She grumbled as she sat up. Her white hair was sodden with mud from the now soggy earth that she had been resting upon. She squinted her brilliant green eyes as she looked up to the angry sky. Morning already? She had barely gotten a nights rest. Then, in the blink of an eye the slow drizzle turned into an absolute down pour. The leaf canopy the forrest provided did little to protect her from becoming absolutely drenched. She murmured a slew of curse words as she tried to find better coverage. She had to be miles from any sort of building, town, or inn. Hell. She would even take a barn stable over this. She loved rain once, but that part of her had died long ago. She tossed her quiver-boasting around 30 poisoned arrows over her shoulder before pulling the hood of her brown leather cloak over her head. Well, if she couldn’t sleep any longer she might as well continue on her travels. She had a dead line after all; Gods was she hungry. She had run out of Beakweigh jerky the morning prior and her stomach roared with anguish. Perhaps she was a tad bit dramatic, but in true Elora fashion, the sooner she found breakfast the better- for everyone. The assassin had a bit of a “hanger management” problem. You’d think the most well known hit man on the east continent would be able to sustain a day or two without a hot meal. Elora knelt once more picking up a green cloth bag that she slung over her left shoulder. Her opposing hand held a beautiful wooden long bow with markings etched along the back and belly. It was not her weapon of choice, but it was crucial to be equipped for long distance combat. A small squeak came from the bag as a tiny black wyvern peaked its head out the top. Dragons were thought to be extinct, and most had died, but she had stumbled upon a lone hatchling weeks prior that had somehow taken a liking to her. The creature put her greatly at risk, but she couldn’t turn it away. It would have died alone, and the thing had some sort of odd connection with her. Something that she did not yet understand. Perhaps, it was due to the fact that they were both fire breathing bitches. The wyvern crawled up her arm and onto her shoulder. “You have to keep low once we get into civilization, but for now I suppose you are alright,” Elora said with a sigh. She had a thick, unrecognizable accent. She had spent time mastering many accents as she had found her own made her come off as far more intimidating. People do not like different, and her native tongue and way of speaking could get in the way of her work. But here alone, she couldn’t help but relish in the feeling of how the words slipped off of her tongue. The familiar feeling brought her closer to the home she had lost many years ago. A home that no longer existed.