Talk to people working punishing hours and a pattern emerges. It is not that they do not want connection. It is that connection, as we usually arrange it, demands a kind of availability they no longer have. Dinners get cancelled, texts go unanswered for days, and the social muscle slowly atrophies. Into this very modern problem steps a very modern solution, and SweetDream is among the most refined examples of it.
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There is a richer side too, with strikingly good AI-generated photos and videos, and video or live cam sessions available with select characters. But the through-line is simpler than any feature list. When your hours belong to everyone but you, an AI girlfriend that fits into the cracks of a brutal schedule starts to look less like an indulgence and more like sense.
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⑇ TEMPOR4RY ⑈ ― is a sanctuary for multiple individuals currently residing @ ridefm. please refrain from further engagement if not local to the area mentioned previously. curated & written by yours truly.
open starter - straton gas & convenience - early afternoon, saturday
cassie stood in the candy aisle, with two bags of the same candy but different flavour in her hand. her brows were furrowed in an expression of intense concentration, lips pursed as she glanced back and forth between them. it was like this decision was the biggest dilemma of her life. after another dramatic sigh, cassie glanced down the aisle. a stranger was standing there, minding their own business, unfortunately for them. "hey," she called, stepping towards them. she held up both candy bags like she was weighing sacred objects. "okay, life or death question. which flavour would you rather find in a pinata? blue raspberry or cherry? i feel like i can't have both because that's too much of one candy but can't work out which flavour is more popular. though i like blue raspberry, i don't think others appreciate having a stained blue tongue - even though that’s like, the whole fun of having blue candy? but i just cannot decide." cassie ranted. and she really needed an answer. because what kind of party didn't have a pinata? a boring one, obviously.
as complicated and as stressful as some of the days kris found lately, there were also small moments of much needed respite. the only tricky aspect of it was that the trainer had absolutely no way to determine when or where they'll be receiving such gifts. straton gas & convenience was one of the last places that popped up in their mind, as in kris' personal experience, almost everybody there usually minded their own business and were not in a chatty mood. today, luckily, circumstances have changed up a bit.
kris tilted their head in the direction of the voice, only to be met with two bags of what looked like candy. a tiny grin begun forming at the end of their lips while they allowed the woman to finish ranting. ❝ what a conundrum, indeed. ❞ the trained replied, amused, as their gaze shifted from the candy bags to the woman. ❝ you've got a point. it seems that blue raspberry clearly has an upper hand in this situation. ❞ perhaps providing support in one of the choices would help the other one feel more confident about picking out a winner. ❝ i'll tell you what ― why don't you buy them both and mix them together in one bag? you can have the rest for yourself. ❞ the idea was particularly appealing to them at least. surely, no one could refuse some candy for themselves if there's a chance to have some. ❝ think that'll work? ❞
to say that kris did not expect to be standing right in front of the sheriff's office the following morning wasn't a completely false statement. it's simply that they hadn't thought of it, this time, at least. god forbid, they actually loosen up for once and try to have some fun (no, breaking diablos' noses was not one of kris' definitions for ‘fun’), while casting their responsibilities aside. well, they tried. perhaps the notions of ‘peace’ and ‘fun’ had long went out the window ever since they became a member of the club. and who better to watch out for the club than them? maybe that's only what they wanted to tell themselves, anyways. the club's babysitter, or whatever. however, no single soul of the club could deny that it wasn't an incredible feeling to know that there was someone ― one of their own, outside the jail cell who could not only be willing, but would actually show up and remind them what it meant to be a part of the reapers. and that's exactly what kris had been doing for years. what they were doing right this instant.
on the other hand, this entire deal of 'rescue’ was also on kris and the fact that they couldn't help themselves when it came to a chance to lend a hand to those they considered family. reckless, foolish and all. still, even if bailing others out of jail had become some sort of a ‘tradition’ for kris, that didn't mean they wouldn't let some of those idiots (affectionate) stay behind bars a bit longer than necessary, truly hoping that, that extra time do them well and would provide them an additional braincell or two. however, there was always an exception to the rule. and in this particular situation, her name was the first and only one who kris ensured to be removed from the official's list of potential offenders.
the cool breeze of spring air kept kris' mind crisp and clear while they awaited the ‘guest of the hour’ by leaning back against one of the trees that provided them with a layer of a shadow. calculated gaze kept flickering back towards the entrance of sheriff's office, expecting to see their unofficial mentee exit the building overfilled with reapers and diablos alike. the trainer continued to try and recall the events of the previous night, however, no matter how much they tried, some gaps were still left in their version of the story. thankfully they were in the right place in time to spot isa and few other reapers being arrested.
a deep sigh followed by the subtle shake of their head. kris was somewhat appaled at how some of them managed to get themselves arrested time and time again. treating it almost like… what? a game? an unproductive pass time? before kris allowed themselves to drift even deeper into the never ending rabbit hole of recklessness of the reapers, the unmistakable creak of the sheriff's office doors being pushed caught kris' attention as their gaze found their mark almost immediately. ❝ it seems your stay has been shortened. so sorry about that. ❞ kris informed her with a straight face, already expecting a series of comments from the prospect. ❝ unless, of course, you'd prefer to stay instead. i've been told you were quite cozy in there. ❞ now the tiniest of smirks on the side of their lips made a temporary appearance, clearly unable to hold back from taking a jab at isa.
"well, i'm asking." the answer comes almost immediately, thanks to the lazy smile that accompanies the question. her will will never be made of steel, it's true, but at work she usually has more control over her whims. usually. there are certain instances, certain faces, words, attention that can throw her off kilter. calla realizes a bit too late that this one, this body, this face, this being, is one of those. her eyes don't have the sense to look sheepish when they move up to meet theirs again, instead holding more curiosity and intrigue than calls for wanting a big tip. her head tilts to one side, sending a wave of raven waves tumbling over her shoulder. her grin only grows tenfold, shoulders lifting, head shaking before she answers. "no, we haven't, but. . . i saw you when i went to sign up for a membership." the thought strikes her, causing the smile to fall a bit. "not that i was, like, being weird about it, or anything? you just, you have such a nice face, i'm sure people stop to look all the time. right?" a pause. "no, don't answer that." another pause. "i'm actually going to shut up and start dancing again if that's okay."
the trainer's eyes narrowed a tinge bit, as if trying to process the other's words. it's not long till it's replaced by a knowing smile. ❝ i see. ❞ they drag the words out a bit in contrast to the dancer's string of comments which serve to widen the grin that currently covered their features, clearly pleasantly amused. ❝ i call that appreciating. absolutely nothing wrong about it. ❞ kris is quick to dismiss calla's shadow of doubt that seemed to creep in for a split second. ❝ well, ― ❞ a quick glance around the stage, taking in the surroundings to find several pairs of eyes fixed on the dancer. if kris didn't know better, they'd say all those people were under her spell. ❝ i've come to look at you now. or, rather, appreciate. ❞ they allow a moment for that information to sink in while kris takes a sip of their drink. ❝ and it appears there are at least four other pairs of eyes besides mine fixed on you right now. ❞ their eyes now holding hers as they are trying to make a point. ❝ which… would make my answer irrelevant, whatever it is. don't you think? ❞
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"wait, wait- kris- wait" if there could have been a visual buffer above robyn's head it would show up right now because she was tipsy and just staring at the ground trying to remember what she was going to say next. it's a good thing that this was a party, because otherwise robyn would be as helpful as a fish. "i can do it." she said, mostly to herself before looking back at kris. "would you let me tattoo you right now? i think i can do it, i never inked someone while under the influence." she chuckled.
an amused chuckle of their own slipped their lips at the sight of tipsy robyn who clearly was struggling to find her next words. ❝ hey, breathe- ❞ a single arm outstretched towards the young woman, kris tried to redirect robyn's attention back to them despite the ever growing absurdity of the moment that failed to wipe that ever widening grin across their face ― clearly just as much under the influence as their friend, even if kris thought they weren't that far gone. ❝ so, you want me to be your next experiment and mark me for life just to prove your theory? ❞ with an incredulous shake of their head, kris ignored the potential overthinking moment by simply going for it. ❝ fuck it, ❞ a dismissive wave of the hand followed next as kris moved to take a seat on a nearby chair. ❝ i'm ready. ❞ the trainer stated by rolling the sleeve of their leather jacket, exposing the inner sleeve of their arm to robyn. ❝ but a small one, yeah? if you mess up, you'll owe me a drink. ❞ it was a fifty-fifty chance of either outcome, but it wasn't the first time kris allowed their friend to pierce their skin and even if this ‘theory’ of hers failed somehow, kris had no doubt she'd find a way to cover it up or add it to her next artistic piece.
༄ 𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗔 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗔 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗬-𝗚𝗢𝗘𝗥. even in her youth, she spent her nights cooped up in her room, hands working her way through a sketchbook or across a canvas. but since joining the reapers, things became different. she still didn't like parties, but who was she to say no to people who wanted her there? chapped lips wrap around a lit cigarette, the music coming from deseo booming loud enough to hear from the outside. from the corner of her eye, she catches somene else's stare. she holds her cigarette between two fingers, blowing smoke into the air before lips quirk up into a smirk. “ didn't your parents ever tell you that it's rude to stare? ”
as outgoing as kris thought they were, there was so much noise and crowds of people they could take. small breaks reserved just for them were practically necessary to unwind and clear their head somewhat. this was supposed to be one of those breaks as they stepped outside the club and into the chilly night air to remind themselves of the freedom that always awaited them there. unfortunately, one could not expect to have some privacy right outside deseo's doorstep. the trainer's gaze found the older woman standing nearby, seemingly preoccupied with her cigarette, but, as it turns out, not as much as to be completely oblivious to her surroundings. ❝ staring & appreciating are two very different things. ❞ kris piped up, a smirk of their own now resting on the corners of their lips. ❝ though, i don't mind pretending you're not here, if that's what you prefer. ❞
♡̵ ⠀⠀・ the night draped over isobel like a velvet shroud—heavy, suffocating, steeped in the ghostly scent of choices she’d rather not make. restraint had no place here. she craved oblivion, the kind that burned through her veins and set fire to reason. the glass bottle in her grip was cool, weighty—a promise of erasure trapped in crystal clarity. vodka, pure as snowfall, brutal as the storm beneath it. without hesitation, she tilted it to her lips, letting the liquid scrape down her throat, the exquisite burn almost a prayer. it spread through her, ink bleeding into water, staining her from the inside out.
a presence stirred nearby—a patient, though not hers tonight. their face was familiar in a distant way, like a song half-remembered. that quiet weight of survival clung to them, but tonight, she was no savior. tonight, she was only a woman with a bottle and a purpose—fire and recklessness shaped into something human. she met their gaze, dark eyes gleaming under fractured light. "if you're looking for kindness, wisdom, anything close to decency," she murmured, voice already thick with liquor, "you won't find it here." as if to prove her point, she lifted the bottle again, lips parting to welcome another mouthful of ruin.
the liquor coiled through her, thick and merciless. a smirk tugged at her lips as she lowered the bottle, thumb tracing its glass like a lover's touch. there was an art to self-destruction, a certain beauty in choosing the wreckage rather than stumbling into it. she exhaled sharply, letting the burn settle in her bones before flicking her gaze back with a hint of amusement. "i drink to forget," she mused, swirling the bottle lazily. "what about you? do you drink to remember?" the words lingered between them, wrapped in smoke and neon light, sharp as shattered glass.
❝ well, you'd have to be a newbie to these places to assume that any of your mentioned virtues are present when liquor is being poured. ❞ and, let's just say, kris was not one of those sweet summer children. the clubs were never known to be a place of comfort, at least, not the type one would expect first hand. it was the sanctuary for the type of comfort that only alcohol could provide. and more often than not, if one is not careful, a few ‘harmless’ hangouts could surely turn one into a regular customer who simply would not leave the premises without a bottle in their hand or a broken nose.
the sight of the young woman did not surprise them one bit given the current circumstances. the celebration was in full motion, yet another reason for some to get shit-faced and call it a day. but no judgement came from kris. they knew enough to understand that each person chose to deal with the pain and the void lurking beneath in their own ways. ❝ yes, sometimes. ❞ kris muttered lowly, as if a wave of memories had struck them right there and then. they weren't a big drinker, but when they did end up nursing a glass, it was one of the rare moments when they allowed themselves to delve into the past and the bittersweet feelings that awaited them. ❝ i've tried forgetting with its help before, ❞ the trainer confessed, allowing a moment of sience to pass by before continuing. ❝ all it brought me was a nasty headache and a wave of rage next morning when all the shit i wished to forget came right back up to the surface. ❞
a job is a job is a job, but calla ? well, she loves her job. flitting around on the unending bass notes and through the always moving lights, her outfit sparkles and glistens with each twirl, each flick of her less than covered hips. she loves the attention she gets just by moving, and so, she simply doesn't stop. hazel eyes are always on the move, hoping to find an unsuspecting soul with a loose wallet at all times, but sometimes she finds a face worth stopping simply to admire. that's what she finds with them. grin turns cheshire as feet stop in front of them, hand rises to slide one finger down their chest, and she's just about to squat and really start work when she realizes. "oh my god? are you the trainer from the quad?" all dancing stops, eyes widen in anticipation. "oh, fuck, say yes or I'm going to just . . . keep dancing like i didn't say a word!"
they weren't really a regular, given the strip club's intricate placement right in the middle of a border between two towns. however, a celebration like this one simply called for a visit. and so, kris allowed themselves one. the performances were yet to disappoint & the club's wings were actually delicious, ensuring a pleasant night. not to mention the discounts on drinks. the trainer found themselves loosening up while nursing a glass of bourbon on the rocks, keeping their gaze fixed on the stage before them or, specifically the dancer, who currently demanded their attention with her ever striking presence. hazel eyes followed each choreographed yet graceful movement of the performer, slowly getting dragged into the captivating moment only for it end up abruptly interrupted. kris blinked once, processing the question the woman thrown their way. ❝ depends who is asking… ❞ they replied, tiny lazy smile tugging at the corner of their lips. ❝ i might be. ❞ now intrigued, kris slowly leaned forward somewhat, wanting to take in the other's face properly. ❝ have we met before? ❞
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( KATY O'BRIAN. THIRTY-TWO. NONBINARY. THEY/THEM. ) in texas, KRISTIAN BARTLETT is known to most as KRIS. they have been riding with the reapers for TEN YEARS. they’re originally from STRATFORD and the ROAD CAPTAIN is known to be very SCEPTICAL & STUBBORN but the other club members will tell you they are LOYAL & RESOURCEFUL. as the years go by, they’ve gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they’re usually at THE QUAD, working as a PERSONAL TRAINER. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do POINT BLANK by BLACK MATH is usually heard blasting. ( black sunglasses resting comfortably on the bridge of the nose. satisfyingly sore muscles after an extensive workout. selfless helping hand with infinite love to give. )
I. BASICS.
FULL NAME: kristian bartlett. NICKNAMES: kris. AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: thirty - two, 1993. PLACE OF BIRTH: stratford, texas. CURRENT RESIDENCE: straton, texas. OCCUPATION/STATUS: personal trainer @ the quad. & road captain for the reapers. BIG THREE: capricorn ☼ taurus ☾ scorpio ↑ GENDER: nonbinary. PRONOUNS: they/them. SEXUALITY: queer.
II. APPEARANCE.
FACECLAIM: katy o'brian. EYE COLOR: hazel. HAIR COLOR: black. HEIGHT: 5'7 / 170 cm. DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTIC(S): round sunglasses. leather jacket. air of fiercy protectiveness. grounded nature felt through deeds done for close ones. slicked to the side hair. wearing silver brass knuckles (in memory of their father) on the front of the belt.
although you are an only child, growing up rarely did you feel a lack of love from your parents. your father, specifically. thanks to him your childhood was a bright one, at least the first ten or so years. connor was a carpenter, loved and adored by all in stratford. a kind soul, as you now remember him. he loved working with his hands, always building something new, always full of ideas. during the last seven years of his life, however, your father developed a fascination with bikes. most likely it was just the influence of some of his closest friends at that time. they joked about being in this cool secret club only people with 'special bikes' could join. that served as enough of a push for connor to consider getting his own bike.
half a year later, connor had finally bought a somewhat cheap-ish bike, but nonetheless graceful. he decided to fix the bike himself, of course after learning how to actually do it first. you got to witness his determination, his fascination and interest bloosom during those years. it touched you in ways you still struggle to put in words today. it was like something out of an animated movie. ingiting that first spark that would later turn into a fierce inferno. this first introduction to a hobby that was later supposed to develop into a life-style of sorts persuaded you to always follow your heart, no matter where it led you.
the two of you spent the following six years working and enjoying riding the bike together. during the years, it has turned into one of connor's greatest possessions, even if your mother frowned upon the time that 'was wasted' in that garage of yours. something you really admired your father for was the fact that, although his friends had managed to 'inspire' him to buy his own bike, connor did not rush into joining this 'secret club' right away. instead, he had taken his sweet time finding and building his connection to his bike. and, he made sure to share all that time and effort with you, thus including you in his hobby.
you will never forget the first time he took you for a ride. it felt magical. freeing. unfortunately the ride was short, which kept you wishing you could experience it again for yourself. the rides continued from time to time throughout the following year. that is until connor finally decided to try and join the mysterious club, which later turned out to actually possess a name. the reapers.
connor was a successful prospect for the reapers for the most part, trying to prove himself to the club, doing its dirty work. however, some limits restricted his potential. he didn't want to kill, even if it was for the sake of the club. perhaps that was his downfall in the end. you can't really tell that now as you weren't there when he lost his life that fateful night. only a couple of months were left before a treaty would be enforced between two rival clubs, but connor wasn't there to witness it. you were told by your mother there was an accident involving his bike. of course you believed it being barely a teen, but the more time passed the more suspicious you became. something in your heart told you that there was more to the story that met the eye.
life had turned quite bleak after your father's passing. his bike, now damaged, was cast aside in the dark corners of the garage. the only things that remained with you were the precious memories of your time together. of how being with him made you feel. how riding a bike made you feel. you've seriously considered joining the club once you turned eighteen, but your mother was too relentless and stubborn as hell, certain that if you joined the club, you'd follow in your father's footsteps. though a small part of you wouldn't have minded that. he was supposed to still be there for you, watching you grow up into a person you were now becoming without him.
there wasn't much consideration involved in terms of your career. you have always enjoyed physical education classes, so after graduating high school you got yourself a personal trainer certification. not only you enjoyed working out, but it was quite a beneficial tool to manage your frustration and anger, which often you ended up suppressing. the flexible hours, working with clients and helping them better themselves was fullfiling for a while, but there was something else that gnawed at your mind every other moment. there was an undying need to finish what has been started by connor. and spending three full years in this awful place of uncertainty only pushed you towards the next big decision in your life.
now that you had your own place, you decided to take and fix your father's bike and make it your own. thankfully learning the ropes wasn't a struggle for you as the underlying passion and determination made you flow right through the process smoothily. days later, you were placed exactly in the same position your father once was. a prospect for the reapers. thus this time, you were deadset on seeing it through it to the very end. safe to say, your story was a more successful one. the club seemed to be impressed by your willingness to be a part of such community and and selfless acts towards other club members. soon enough you found some of the most meaningful people in your life, the ones you couldn't imagine your life without right in this very moment. it only strengthened your beliefs that joining the club was the right decision after all. if not the best, that is.
now, a road captain for the reapers, you eagerly organize the runs for the club, taking the role of a mentor sometimes among other things as you can easily spot new potential when you see one. always true to your word, you're more than willing to give your life for the club, but most importantly, you're ever determined to push on and excel in your position, hoping to make your father proud by living for yourself as much as you do for him.
VI. WANTED CONNECTIONS.
ESTRANGED MOTHER [ OPEN ] … you were never close with your mother, although she did provide for you and kept you fed and safe. on paper, she was a great mother, but there was little to no love that you felt from her. maybe she didn't know how to show it, maybe she didn't want to show it to begin with. either way, with each year that passed, she had grown more and more dismissive of your father's interests, believing it to be a ‘waste of time’ and how it was a dangerous hobby to pursue. now that you have moved out and have a place of your own, you see her less and less. a part of you feels relieved. the other feels agitated and worried for her wellbeing. she had always kept her feelings under the wraps, just like you do even if you try not to. perhaps… reaching out to her one more time wouldn't hurt?
RIDE OR DIE / BEST FRIEND [ 0/1 ] … the two of you met at the club soon after you were officially welcomed as a reaper. you clicked naturaly and quite fast, too. both of you felt this special connection in being a part of something bigger and greater than yourselves. but most of all, you knew you'd give your life for them in a heartbeat should they need it. this is the very first and probably only person who has seen you at your lowest, rawest self. they've seen it all during the years and yet, when most had moved away from your orbit, this one had grown even closer. and it never ceased to amaze you.
SLOW BURN [0/1] … you're not the best in expressing yourself emotionally. nor are you a relationship guru, even if you try and do help your closest friends by giving out some pieces of dating advice. things are always easier when you're looking in from the outside. the other way around? not so much. and yet… there is something about this person that attracts yous. is it their personality? their humor? way with words? you cannot say as of right now, but you don't mind being around them. well, maybe you're a bit eager to see them again. but they're probably just another future acquaintance of yours anyways. so, why not entertain yourself a bit while you're both at it?
CONFIDANT / FOUND FAMILY [0/3] … you might not be the most social person, but that doesn't mean you're not good at making friends. given your selfless nature, you have done quite a few nice deeds for others and well, some of them went out of their way to return in kind. not only do you go out for drinks, but support one another when things get rough. there is an unspoken loyalty lying under the surface and you would never do anything to break it.
MENTEE [1/2] … having a decade of experience of being a reaper under your belt, you're quick to spot new potential in new members and help them settle in and excel. however, more than that, you found yourself unable to resist lending a hand to those that need it most. whether it's an encouraging word, a supportive pat on the back or even a look of acknowlegement - you've got them covered. … [ PARTIALLY TAKEN BY: ISA ACEVEDO ]
DRINKING PAL [0/3] … it's nice to wind down after an eventful day. it's even nicer to have good company to share a drink or two. they just happened to be there one day/night when you arrived and you've found yourself having a good time. it could be their out of the box insights, witty remarks, or simply shared stories of the past. you obsorb it all the same along with your liquor and hope to see them there the next time you'll show up.
SITUATIONSHIP [0/2] … one night stand? simple flirtationship? friends with benefits? matters in this regard can get quite messy quite quickly. you're not the best material for a ‘typical relationship’, but then again, are they? you swore to not get attached, but did they? how is that working out for you when you hesitate to delete their number after telling them you won't see them again? how do you feel after finding out that the person you ended up spending the night with is actually a new member of the reapers/diablos? safe to say, things aren't the best when it comes to the matters of the heart.
CLIENT @ THE QUAD [0/3] … despite your unwavering loyalty to the reapers, you are just as dedicated to your job as a trainer, ensuring your clients are always satisfied and their needs are met. whether it's adjusting their diet, creating a workout plan to build muscle, lose weight, just staying in shape or even self-defense - you're prepared to tackle any challenge that will present itself in your way.
HEADACHE [0/2] … you consider yourself quite a patient person. you've seen a diverse range of personalities during the years, but there are a few that somehow manage to send all the rest mild annoyances scurrying away with their tails between their legs. how on earth do they do that, you keep asking yourself. there is no way. and yet… they emerge victorious each time they manage to make you roll your eyes and sigh in frustration. they couldn't be more different than you, but you don't blame them for it. well, mostly. because as much as you try to tolerate them, they keep proving their undying persistence to get on your nerves for one reason or another. sometimes you wonder whether they hold a secret grudge against you or they simply enjoy to watch you suffer. either way, you can't seem to escape them for long. unfortunately.
RIVAL [0/3] … no matter where you look, there always seems to be at least one troublemaker. the type that live against the rules most of the time, if not all the time. it's almost like they are wired differently. or maybe they just want to take you down for one reason or another. it's never fully clear with their kind. you keep a watchful eye on them, but how prepared can you be for when they might strike? the obvious ones are easy to spot, however those that lurk in the shadows? they're the ones having you break a sweat.
BAD INFLUENCE [0/2] … you consider yourself a ‘methodical rebel’. the type that rebels according to the plan you yourself have came up with. with meticulous care and clear-defined goals. but there has always been that impulsive streak in you, the chaotic side that is simply itching to let loose and cause some damage. and, well, there are a few individuals who simply know how to crack the code and let the beast out. sneaking out on night runs? messing with some of diablos' equipment? knocking that irritating drunk out? say less. all you know, is that the next morning you always find yourself regretting allowing the bad influence to sway your judgement, no matter how ‘fun’ things felt at the moment of commiting any of those reckless acts.
ADDITIONAL SUGGESTIONS [OPEN] … have some ideas where you'd like to take our characters? angst? something spicy? would like to create a unique connection between our characters that is not yet mentioned in the connections list? or simply would like to create a new thread and test out the waters with chemistry? please, do not hesitate to DM me, i'd love to hear any and all ideas you may have!!!
