[center][img]https://img.artpal.com/873891/8-21-5-6-3-0-29m.jpg[/img] [color=MediumPurple][h1]About Me[/h1][/color][/center] [color=DodgerBlue]I am a female writer with 15+ years of experience in role-playing. Not to age myself, but I got my start on dial-up AOL & Yahoo Chats and Neopets. I have come a long way since I started writing back in middle school! From one-liners to novella posts, I feel like I have had a taste of a little bit of everything. However, now that I am settling into myself as a writer, I am more what people might call a lazy-lit. I still love writing three to five paragraphs of material, and when inspiration is strong I still dip back into my old novella writing. I am the mother of two fur-babies! I love my dogs, and I am happy to send pictures when we get to talking in OOC. I never shut up about my dogs. LOL. I do have a full time job, and real life will always come first with me, but writing in my main hobby, so if I do not reply daily I do aim to reply at least every other day![/color] [center][color=MediumPurple][h3]What you can expect from me as a role-player:[/h3][/color] [color=DodgerBlue]° Female characters - sometimes I might play a male for the right plot. ° Daily or every other day responses Sometimes more if inspiration is strong! ° Three to Five paragraphs per post. ° Lots of OOC chat! I love creating friendships with my partners! Not to mention I enjoy discussing our story & characters. I am all about mood boards, pictures, songs, and anything else that reminds us of our story or characters. ° Collaboration on the story plot as well as characters. I will always contribute! ° Character Sheets with realistic face claims. ° Romance! I am always craving stories that revolve around romance. [With NSFW themes to be discussed farther in PMs if interested][/color][/center] [center][color=MediumPurple][h1]Wolfie's Writing Sample[/h1][/color][/center] [color=white]It had been planned to be the wedding of the century. The venue had been perfect—an arch of deep red roses rising above the altar, set before a glassy lake with snow-capped mountains framing the scene like a painting. Her dress had been a thing of dreams, heavy with pearls and beads sewn into swirling, delicate patterns, each one glinting when it caught the light. Her curves had never looked more beautiful. The entire family—every aunt, uncle, cousin, and lifelong friend—had already bought tickets to Colorado. Her parents had been beside themselves with joy, completely smitten with her fiancé. Even her father had grown to love David, though he’d once sworn he never would. Everything had lined up exactly as it should. It was going to be perfect. A fairy tale. Her fairy tale. And at the end of that aisle, the man she loved more than life would be waiting for her. Addie had first met David when she’d been a college freshman and he a year ahead. They’d met in Biology class, but she could still remember the exact moment she’d seen him for the first time—him walking in late, hair tousled, smile easy. Back then, she’d thought he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and like any naive girl, she’d convinced herself it was love. It had taken her a month to gather the courage to sit beside him in class. He’d greeted her, grinning, and that had been it. Everything had changed after that. Their love had flared to life like a match in the dark. He had been kind and funny and knew exactly how to make her feel seen. He’d brought her flowers for no reason, sent her texts in the middle of the night just to say he missed her, and showed up with snacks whenever she studied too hard. He’d kissed her softly, touched her gently, made her feel like the luckiest person on earth. With him, life had felt easy. Beautiful. Secure. Like she had finally found the place she belonged. Until the day it all went up in smoke. It had been an ordinary Wednesday in March. The kind of day where everything seemed painfully normal—work wrapping up early, the drive home, music on the radio. She’d decided to surprise David, to do something spontaneous the way he used to for her. She’d stopped at the grocery store, giggling to herself as she filled the basket with strawberries, whipped cream, ice cream, and lube. She’d imagined the way he’d laugh when she’d walk through the door. He’d love it. Maybe it was silly, but she couldn’t wait to see him smile. She had unlocked the front door quietly, her chest tight with excitement. The apartment had smelled faintly of his cologne and her favorite candles. She’d slipped off her shoes and padded barefoot toward the kitchen to drop off her groceries, humming under her breath—until the sound reached her. A sharp, rhythmic slap. Then another. Then a woman’s moan, drawn-out and undeniable. Her heart had stuttered. For a second, she’d told herself she was imagining it. That it was a TV. That it was anything but what it sounded like. But then the voice had come again, louder now, breathless and real. Addie had moved down the hall as though in a trance. Her hand had trembled on the doorknob. And then— “Yes, yes—God, yes!” the woman had cried. Addie had thrown open the door, and everything inside her had shattered. David’s head had snapped up. A woman—bare-backed, flushed, unfamiliar—had turned toward her. The room had gone sideways, her stomach twisting so violently she thought she might throw up. For one split, endless second, no one had breathed. “Addie… I can explain!” David had stumbled off the bed—off their bed—his voice frantic. “Baby, listen, please—just—” She hadn’t heard anything after that. There had been a roaring in her ears, the kind that drowned out every sound except her heartbeat. Her chest hurt. Her lungs refused to work. Words wouldn’t come—only choked sobs that tore through her before she could stop them. Tears blurred everything into shapes and motion as she stepped back, then back again. One glance—one last searing image of the woman on her knees—and then she had turned and run. Purse. Shoes. Door. Gone. She’d driven without remembering a single turn of the wheel. When she’d finally pulled into her childhood driveway, she’d sat gripping the steering wheel until her fingers cramped. Her mother hadn’t believed her at first. David had been so perfect, so charming. “Are you sure it was him?” she’d asked, her voice trembling. Addie hadn’t answered. There’d been no words left in her. Just tears. She’d cried until she couldn’t breathe, until her throat was raw, until the mirror hardly recognized her face. She hadn’t eaten for days, hadn’t left her old room, hadn’t wanted to exist in a world where the man she loved had betrayed her. The months that followed had blurred together. She had buried herself in her job, teaching, planning lessons, grading, repeating—anything but thinking. Her students became her lifeline, their laughter the only sound that didn’t tear her apart. At night, though, when things were quiet and the house still, she would remember. The snap of the bedsprings. The look on his face. The hollow ache in her chest that no amount of tears could wash clean. David hadn’t reached out once. Not a message. Not a single word in four months. By summer, she’d forced herself to move again. She spent long hours outside, pulling weeds and scraping paint, letting the heat burn away what little numbness remained. The more her hands hurt, the less her heart did. At least for a while. When her mother asked for help planning their summer barbecue, Addie had said yes without thinking. They’d cooked enough food for an army, her mother insisting on more every time Addie said it was enough. It was just like always—except her mother had been uncharacteristically quiet about the guest list. It was almost suspicious. Addie couldn’t shake the feeling that her mom was up to something. Probably nothing good. [/color]

<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://img.artpal.com/873891/8-21-5-6-3-0-29m.jpg" /><br><font color="mediumpurple"><div class="bb-h1">About Me</div></font></div><br><font color="dodgerblue">I am a female writer with 15+ years of experience in role-playing. Not to age myself, but I got my start on dial-up AOL & Yahoo Chats and Neopets. I have come a long way since I started writing back in middle school! From one-liners to novella posts, I feel like I have had a taste of a little bit of everything. However, now that I am settling into myself as a writer, I am more what people might call a lazy-lit. I still love writing three to five paragraphs of material, and when inspiration is strong I still dip back into my old novella writing.<br><br>I am the mother of two fur-babies! I love my dogs, and I am happy to send pictures when we get to talking in OOC. I never shut up about my dogs. LOL. I do have a full time job, and real life will always come first with me, but writing in my main hobby, so if I do not reply daily I do aim to reply at least every other day!</font><br><div class="bb-center"><font color="mediumpurple"><div class="bb-h3">What you can expect from me as a role-player:</div></font><br><font color="dodgerblue">° Female characters - sometimes I might play a male for the right plot. <br>° Daily or every other day responses Sometimes more if inspiration is strong!<br>° Three to Five paragraphs per post. <br>° Lots of OOC chat! I love creating friendships with my partners! Not to mention I enjoy discussing our story & characters. I am all about mood boards, pictures, songs, and anything else that reminds us of our story or characters.<br>° Collaboration on the story plot as well as characters. I will always contribute!<br>° Character Sheets with realistic face claims.<br>° Romance! I am always craving stories that revolve around romance. [With NSFW themes to be discussed farther in PMs if interested]</font></div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><font color="mediumpurple"><div class="bb-h1">Wolfie's Writing Sample</div></font></div><br><font color="white">It had been planned to be the wedding of the century. The venue had been perfect—an arch of deep red roses rising above the altar, set before a glassy lake with snow-capped mountains framing the scene like a painting. Her dress had been a thing of dreams, heavy with pearls and beads sewn into swirling, delicate patterns, each one glinting when it caught the light. Her curves had never looked more beautiful. The entire family—every aunt, uncle, cousin, and lifelong friend—had already bought tickets to Colorado. Her parents had been beside themselves with joy, completely smitten with her fiancé. Even her father had grown to love David, though he’d once sworn he never would. Everything had lined up exactly as it should. It was going to be perfect. A fairy tale. Her fairy tale. And at the end of that aisle, the man she loved more than life would be waiting for her.<br><br>Addie had first met David when she’d been a college freshman and he a year ahead. They’d met in Biology class, but she could still remember the exact moment she’d seen him for the first time—him walking in late, hair tousled, smile easy. Back then, she’d thought he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and like any naive girl, she’d convinced herself it was love. It had taken her a month to gather the courage to sit beside him in class. He’d greeted her, grinning, and that had been it. Everything had changed after that. Their love had flared to life like a match in the dark. He had been kind and funny and knew exactly how to make her feel seen. He’d brought her flowers for no reason, sent her texts in the middle of the night just to say he missed her, and showed up with snacks whenever she studied too hard. He’d kissed her softly, touched her gently, made her feel like the luckiest person on earth. With him, life had felt easy. Beautiful. Secure. Like she had finally found the place she belonged.<br><br>Until the day it all went up in smoke.<br><br>It had been an ordinary Wednesday in March. The kind of day where everything seemed painfully normal—work wrapping up early, the drive home, music on the radio. She’d decided to surprise David, to do something spontaneous the way he used to for her. She’d stopped at the grocery store, giggling to herself as she filled the basket with strawberries, whipped cream, ice cream, and lube. She’d imagined the way he’d laugh when she’d walk through the door. He’d love it. Maybe it was silly, but she couldn’t wait to see him smile.<br><br>She had unlocked the front door quietly, her chest tight with excitement. The apartment had smelled faintly of his cologne and her favorite candles. She’d slipped off her shoes and padded barefoot toward the kitchen to drop off her groceries, humming under her breath—until the sound reached her.<br><br>A sharp, rhythmic slap. Then another. Then a woman’s moan, drawn-out and undeniable.<br><br>Her heart had stuttered. For a second, she’d told herself she was imagining it. That it was a TV. That it was anything but what it sounded like. But then the voice had come again, louder now, breathless and real. Addie had moved down the hall as though in a trance. Her hand had trembled on the doorknob. And then—<br><br>“Yes, yes—God, yes!” the woman had cried.<br><br>Addie had thrown open the door, and everything inside her had shattered.<br><br>David’s head had snapped up. A woman—bare-backed, flushed, unfamiliar—had turned toward her. The room had gone sideways, her stomach twisting so violently she thought she might throw up. For one split, endless second, no one had breathed.<br><br>“Addie… I can explain!” David had stumbled off the bed—off their bed—his voice frantic. “Baby, listen, please—just—”<br><br>She hadn’t heard anything after that. There had been a roaring in her ears, the kind that drowned out every sound except her heartbeat. Her chest hurt. Her lungs refused to work. Words wouldn’t come—only choked sobs that tore through her before she could stop them. Tears blurred everything into shapes and motion as she stepped back, then back again. One glance—one last searing image of the woman on her knees—and then she had turned and run. Purse. Shoes. Door. Gone.<br><br>She’d driven without remembering a single turn of the wheel. When she’d finally pulled into her childhood driveway, she’d sat gripping the steering wheel until her fingers cramped.<br><br>Her mother hadn’t believed her at first. David had been so perfect, so charming. “Are you sure it was him?” she’d asked, her voice trembling. Addie hadn’t answered. There’d been no words left in her. Just tears. She’d cried until she couldn’t breathe, until her throat was raw, until the mirror hardly recognized her face. She hadn’t eaten for days, hadn’t left her old room, hadn’t wanted to exist in a world where the man she loved had betrayed her.<br><br>The months that followed had blurred together. She had buried herself in her job, teaching, planning lessons, grading, repeating—anything but thinking. Her students became her lifeline, their laughter the only sound that didn’t tear her apart. At night, though, when things were quiet and the house still, she would remember. The snap of the bedsprings. The look on his face. The hollow ache in her chest that no amount of tears could wash clean. David hadn’t reached out once. Not a message. Not a single word in four months.<br><br>By summer, she’d forced herself to move again. She spent long hours outside, pulling weeds and scraping paint, letting the heat burn away what little numbness remained. The more her hands hurt, the less her heart did. At least for a while.<br><br>When her mother asked for help planning their summer barbecue, Addie had said yes without thinking. They’d cooked enough food for an army, her mother insisting on more every time Addie said it was enough. It was just like always—except her mother had been uncharacteristically quiet about the guest list. It was almost suspicious. Addie couldn’t shake the feeling that her mom was up to something. Probably nothing good.</font><br></div>