#please discuss and help me brainstorm!

[novelmonger]

I'd like to gauge interest in a fanfic exchange event, inspired by Blind Date with a Book, if you're familiar with that. Please read the details below the cut before voting, and if you do vote, please reblog and/or send to anyone you think might be interested!

Option A: It's a monthly event where, during a certain period of time, people can sign up to put their name on a list, and also submit a fic that they recommend. (There would be certain guidelines that would have to be followed for everyone to have fun, like an upper limit on rating, a story that can be understood without context, etc.) On the specified date, I would randomly match up names to fics and send everyone the results, at which point everyone gets to read something and leave the author a comment!

Option B: This would be more of a Secret Santa-esque event, where people would sign up with a brief description of the kind of things they're not interested in reading, e.g. categories of pairings, tags for personal triggers, etc. On the specified date, I would assign everybody a partner, and everyone finds a fic for their partner that adheres to their guidelines.

Alternatively, either of these options could also work with each person presenting a selection of, say, three fics in the form of links that don't give anything away, along with a vague description like "a peaceful day at home" or "whump leads to an important confession."

[interact-if]

Happy New Year everyone!

I’m delighted to announce that Interact-IF is officially back in business! I (Allie @allieebobo) will be taking the reins as the new mod, and I’m very excited to get this blog up and running again!

First, a heartfelt thank-you to the original mod team for everything they’ve built. Interact-if has become such an invaluable resource and hub for interactive fiction fans and authors alike. It’s a tough act to follow, but I’ll do my best to keep the spirit of this wonderful space alive :)

A little bit more about me: I’m the author of two WIP interactive fiction games, @collegetennisoriginstory and @merrycrisis-if. Interact-if was one of the first blogs/places that I discovered almost three years ago now, and it led me to so many amazing stories, authors, and resources.

When I saw that the blog was going into archive mode, with a call for a new generation of mods, I wanted to do my best to help out. I reached out to the original mod team and worked out a gameplan for the future of Interact-if, which I’d like to share with all of you today.

P.S. If you would like to join me, I’d love to have you on the team! Scroll down to the section on ‘open call for mods’.

Without further ado, here’s the plan!

My goal is to focus on retaining the aspects that made Interact-IF so special: spotlighting diverse authors, and creating a warm, inclusive space to talk about and share wonderful games.

🟢 Active:

Game Updates & Intros: If you’re an author with a new game or demo update, or if you’re organizing a game jam or event you’d like to share with the community, simply tag @interact-if in your posts, and I’ll reblog them. It would also be helpful if you added tags stating the IF's genre (e.g. horror, romance), has a demo/no demo.

Themed Author Features: I’ll continue the tradition of spotlighting authors and games based on monthly themes (e.g. Pride Month, Disability Month). These interviews are such a great way of celebrating diversity and inclusivity in the IF community, and I’d love to keep these going! Stay tuned for a detailed post on this soon!

Community Spotlight: Once every quarter, I’ll also do a call for reader recs around certain categories/themes (e.g. Fave RO, Fave Worldbuilding/setting, Fave plot-twist etc.) and compile these recommendations to share. Think of it as a bulletin of crowdsourced faves and a way of sharing a little note about an IF you love!

🟡 Remain open/active, but not modded:

Game directory: The Interact-IF repository of games (excel) will remain open for authors to update/list their games and/or readers to discover their next read. (Feel free to continue to update/populate the repository, though do note it will remain completely crowd-sourced/author-updated).

Discord: The discord will remain open and active for discussions, resource sharing, and casual chats, though again, this will not be officially modded (though I, and some of the original mods like roast, may be active from time to time)

🔴 Not active:

Asks: I will not be answering asks except for specific submissions (e.g. for author features, reader recommendations etc.). If you would like to ask for specific game recommendations, or have questions/just wanna chat, the discord channel is a great place to do just that! :)

Keeping track of events/game updates: As mentioned, I’ll rely on authors / readers to tag me in updates posts and/or flag any games with questionable content/anything that might need my attention, as I won't be able to search out update posts or do any extensive vetting.

Open call for mods:

Finally, I’d love to have some company! If you’re interested in helping out—whether with reblogs, interviews, or brainstorming new features—please reach out. Having a small team would make this space even more vibrant!

Thank you for your support, your enthusiasm, and for being part of what makes Interact-IF such a special corner of the internet! :)

If you have any suggestions or ideas on how Interact-If can be improved, feel free also to drop the blog a direct message or an ask. I look forward to getting to know all of you better. Here's to an awesome year of interactive fiction (and many more!)

[catherinnn]

Ok, I have a cute/silly fic request:

Can I get a story where everyone in Hellfire club knows that the reader and Eddie have feelings for each other, so they each come up their own plans to get them together (whether or not Erica is included in this I'll leave up to you). It seems as though each of their plans fail, until they see reader and Eddie out on a date together. They all get so excited that they were successful that the reader and Eddie don't have the heart to tell them they've actually been dating for a while and wanted to wait before telling them. So they just let them believe it was all them.

The Plan Totally Worked!

a/n: Thank you for requesting again babe, i hope you enjoy this! I'm catching up with requests now that have more free time, so if anyone has any, please feel free to write me!

words: 1k

masterlist

“Guess who?” you felt two hands cover your eyes as you were at your locker. 

Behind you stands Eddie smirking with a confused Dustin by his side. They were discussing which Lord of the Rings book is their favorite and why, when Eddie ran up to you as soon as he saw you, forgetting all about their topic. 

“It’s easy to guess when you’re the one wearing a billion rings” you tease him. He moves his hands as you turn around.

“I forgot you were so smart” he says, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Hey boys” you greet them.

“Hi sweetheart, you look very pretty today” Eddie gives you the cutest grin. 

“Hi” Dustin greets you, still pondering about the change of demeanor Eddie suddenly had when he saw you. 

“Yeah, obviously he likes her,” Lucas says. “you actually never noticed how flirty and playful he gets when he sees her?”  

“Yeah, I mean they do flirt constantly. But they’re still just friends, aren’t they?” Dustin thinks.

“Yeah, I think so” Mike agrees.

“Do you think she likes him too?” Dustin asks.

“She wouldn’t flirt back as much as she does if she didn’t. I say she does” Lucas says as if he’s a relationship expert, which makes Mike roll his eyes.

“Why do we even care?” he asks.

“They’re our friends, and obviously they are too chicken to make a move! We have to help them!” Dustin says, feeling very motivated.

They begin brainstorming a series of plans to get the two of you together.

Like the secret date: 

Dustin invited you to meet him at an ice cream shop, he said the rest of the group were coming as well. He also asked you to dress up nice which sounded very random. 

Funny enough, none of the guys could make it, only Eddie, who was just as confused as you. Either way, you ordered your ice creams and sat at a table together. 

The three boys were watching from the other side of the window of the place, giving each other high fives since the plan seemed to work. That’s when they see Steve and Robin also entering the ice cream shop and joining you two, ruining your ‘date’. 

What the boys didn’t know is that since Dustin had told you they were all coming, you also took the liberty to invite Steve and Robin, thinking that you’ll have a nice afternoon all together. 

Since that didn’t seem to work, they had to move to plan B:

“Wayne’s birthday is coming up, isn’t it?” Dustin asks Eddie in the middle of lunch.

“Yeah, it is. How did you know?” 

“I just remembered you mentioned it… Do you know what to get him?” Dustin acts.

“Like a gift? I was thinking maybe a new hat or another mug” Eddie shrugs.

“Oh come on, that is so bad!” Dustin says and Eddie frowns. “You could do something more meaningful, like bake him a cake!” 

When Dustin says that you choke on your drink. “Sorry, I just imagined Eddie baking” you say laughing.

“Yeah, I don’t know what caused the impression that I could ever bake a cake for someone, but it is far from the reality” Eddie tells Dustin.

“Well, why don’t you help him? You like baking, don’t you?” Dustin asks you.

“Yeah, sometimes” you say.

“That’s perfect! And it’s a much better gift!” Dustin sells it.

“It would be a nicer gift than just another hat” you agree.

“You’ll help me? Because I’m lost if I have to do it alone” Eddie asks you.

“Of course I’ll help, I’ll come over to your after school” you say and Eddie nods.

Dustin thinks this is it, there is no way that this didn’t work. He can imagine you telling Eddie how to do everything and then helping him because he’s just not doing it right. Maybe Eddie gets playful and starts teasing you, putting flour on your face and then a battle starts where you end up all messy. Maybe the giggles stop and you realize you’re very close together and then you can’t hide it anymore and you finally kiss. 

So, just imagine his surprise when the next day, he doesn’t see you two kissing by your locker when he gets to school. Instead, he finds you two chatting as casual as ever.

“So… how did the baking go?” he asks.

“Really good, she bossed me around all afternoon but we ended up with a decent cake. Wayne loved it” Eddie says. 

“Oh, that easy?” Dustin asks, surprised.

“Well, when you have a professional chef helping, it’s easy enough” Eddie teases you.

“Oh shut up, he was surprisingly good too. Maybe it was the motivation he had to then eat the cake” you say. 

“It was amazing” Eddie nods.

“That’s good news” Dustin says, still disappointed. “Hey, I was gonna say… you look really nice today” he tells you.

“Aw, thanks-”

“Doesn’t she look nice, Eddie?” Dustin pushes him.

“Uh, yeah. Well, she always does” he says, confused.

“Dude, leave it alone. If it didn’t happen already after all those tries, it’s not gonna happen” Lucas tells Dustin. The two of them are on their bikes, on their way to Mike’s. “Hey, isn’t that Eddie’s van?” He sees it parked in front of a restaurant. 

“Oh, yeah, it is! Is he in this place? It seems fancy!” 

When they peek in the window they find the two of you cuddled up. You seemed to be chatting and giggling until you kissed. 

“Wow! It worked! The plan totally worked!” Dustin cheers.

“Holy shit man! It totally did!”

If they only knew what was actually happening inside the restaurant:

“Happy anniversary, princess” Eddie smiles at you.

“Happy anniversary, baby. I can’t believe it’s been a year already!” you say pleased.

"So... you two have anything you would like to share?" Dustin asks you on Monday at lunch.

“The best year of my life” he flirts before kissing you, he really gets all mushy and corny when you’re alone. You decided to not be those kinds of couples that make out or cuddle in front of all their friends, avoiding PDA as much as you could to not make anyone uncomfortable.

"Umm... no?" you say, confused.

"We can tell us, we saw you two lovebirds!" Lucas chimes in.

"Saw us where?" Eddie asks, just as confused.

"On your date last Friday!"

"Oh yeah, we had dinner" Eddie smiles.

"My plan totally worked!" Dustin says.

"Hey! I helped too!" Lucas complains.

"What plan?" you two go back to confusion.

"You really never noticed? I set you two up! I noticed how much you like each other over these last few months and took control since you were never gonna!" he explains smugly.

"What do you- Ouch!" Eddie starts but you pinch him so he stops.

"You set us up?! That's why you were acting so weird?" you smile when you realize what he was trying to do.

"You're welcome" Dustin throws himself flowers.

"Well, we owe it to you, kid" Eddie says sarcastically.

"What are you on about? They've been dating for a year!" Gareth burstes his bubble.

"Wait what?!"

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter I: The Chain 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after leaving him, your inevitable reunion with your soon-to-be ex-husband Aemond isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, possessive Aemond, depictions of anxiety, allusions to smut

Word count: 3000

A/N: Edited and done, please enjoy 🩵 Thank you my love @theoneeyedprince for giving this a look-through for me 🫶

Breathe.

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. In. Hold three seconds. Out.

You haven’t been able to eat anything all morning, far too nauseous to keep even a piece of toast down.

The breathing exercise your therapist had taught you does little to help you calm down.

You’ve felt anxious before, but rarely this intense.

It’s so physical.

You feel it in your stomach turning, chest contracting, hands tingling, head spinning.

You knew you’d have to meet him sooner or later.

Afterall, you’d both decided to stay in the band. You’d just started to gain traction, embarking on your first ever tour across the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

A once in a lifetime opportunity for an up-and-coming band.

Still, knowing that didn’t make it easier to turn the handle of the door and walk into the studio.

Knowing he’ll be there.

You hadn’t seen your husband, Aemond, in over three months now.

Soon to be ex-husband.

You’d honestly expected the process to be speedier; you hadn’t demanded anything from him, the only thing important to you was that you kept all legal rights you had in relation to the band; the rights to your songs. And he hadn’t really given any conditions himself, yet his solicitors took ages contacting yours.

That’s all you’d heard from him over the summer. Updates from your legal advisers about his.

You’d blocked his number after leaving the divorce papers at your shared flat and moved out, tired of your phone overheating from the amount of times he’d tried calling you.

In the end, Alicent, your mother-in-law, had phoned you, begging you to please meet with her son and talk it out. You told her that you’d already talked plenty and there was no point in continuing indulging in pointless discussion. You’d always gotten along well with Alicent, so having her call you to do her son’s bidding felt so unbelievably awkward. He’d always been such a mama’s boy.

With one final, shaky exhale, you turn the handle of the door and push it open, stepping into the hallway.

With the door ajar, you can hear chatter from the studio.

Everyone’s already here.

Good, then you’d just have to suck it up and face them. Like ripping off a band-aid; only painful for a second.

You spot Helaena first. She gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and straightens up slightly.

You’d met her a few times in the last months; brainstorming song ideas and recording vocals together in the studio.

Besides playing the piano, she wrote songs and sang for the band, just like you and Aemond. She hadn’t asked you anything about him, which you were thankful for. You know she’s anxious about how the dynamic in the band will shift now that the two of you have separated. And her anxiety materialises in the way she starts picking at her nail beds as soon as she sees you emerge through the door.

Next to Helaena sits Jace, who plays bass for the band. He gives you a half-hearted smile, accompanied by tense shoulders and a murmured greeting.

Across the table from him is Erryk, drummer and the newest addition to the band. He seems to not sense the tension that hangs heavy in the room and smiles at you until his eyes crinkle.

His obliviousness almost makes you laugh. It nearly manages to cut through the uncomfortable tension, until your eyes travel to lock with the last person in the room.

You knew that Aemond wouldn’t cause a scene and act infuriatingly indifferent towards you.

You knew that he’d give you a nod and get straight down to business.

Still, you feel a sliver of satisfaction when your predictions turn out to be true.

“So, everyone’s done with recording their parts?”, he asks the room.

He’s already pulled out his laptop, quick fingers typing as he waits for confirmation.

Though the tense atmosphere never really leaves the room, you all collectively try to power through as you discuss how recording went and what else needs to be fixed before the album is ready.

Due to your and Aemond’s separation, and the tumultuous events leading up to it, the band had agreed that everyone would record their vocals and instruments separately; putting everything together in production later. This had slowed down the process significantly, resulting in you being far from done with the album your label wanted you to release at the end of the month.

“As you know, the label isn’t too pleased with the fact that we haven’t finished the album yet-”, Aemond says, eyes still on the screen of his laptop; both his seeing eye and the unmoving one covered by a layer of white mist,

“-But they’ve asked us if we’d be willing to perform some new songs during the tour, to boost sales and get the hype up”

His voice is stoic, every utterance straight to the point. You sit on his blind side, with Helaena between your chair and his, and you take the opportunity of knowing he can’t clearly see you to examine him, searching for any changes since you last laid eyes on him, when his knuckles were bloody and panic reflected in his lilac eye.

He looks exactly like he always does; infuriatingly handsome.

His long, silvery hair hangs loose over his shoulders. His long eyelashes cast down as he inspects the screen of his laptop. His aquiline nose slopes beautifully to meet his perfectly pouty lips, begging to be kissed-

Fuck, stop!

Truth be told, you’d put extra effort into looking your best today, spending an hour on doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. Hopefully you’d succeeded in making it appear much less intentional than it was, suddenly feeling a flash of embarrassment wash over you.

Why do you care what he thinks anymore?

The meeting goes on for another hour. The band’s manager, Tyland Lannister, joins in after 20 minutes, briefing the band members on the upcoming tour. Opening night’s in one week, on Dragonstone, and you’ll all fly out the morning of the show.

As the members of the band prepare to leave the studio, the tension that had previously felt so crushing is now only lingering in the periphery.

Jace and Erryk talk excitedly about all the places they’ll visit during the tour; what they wanted to eat and what they wanted to see. For a second it almost feels like things are back to normal, like the last three months never happened.

As everyone makes their separate ways home, you spot Aemond walk up to a black car and quickly jump in the passenger seat.

Your stomach turns.

You only see a flash of her black hair before the car drives away. The mask of indifference you’d put on cracks slightly at the sight of them together.

You wanted the divorce, idiot.

It still hurts seeing him move on though. He’d done it so quickly; uncharacteristically so.

The first week after you’d left, he blew up your phone trying to get a hold of you.

Despite his inexcusable behaviour, there had been times when you felt guilty for leaving him so abruptly. Even though you knew he deserved it, you also knew that leaving him and refusing to talk to him would drive him insane. What you hadn’t expected was that he’d go and get a new girl a mere week after Alicent had called you.

Seeing them together in real life made you feel exactly as you did when your friend Alysanne had sent you the link to the 30 second video two and a half months ago.

Nauseous.

The video showed Aemond getting out of a taxi in front of a new and chic Braavosi bistro downtown. It was opening night and a few local news sources were there to report. One of the journalists had recognised Aemond, clearly intrigued by the fact that the still-married bandman rounded the taxi and offered his hand to a beautiful dark-haired woman stepping out. As they walked towards the entrance, the reporter chased them down, microphone in hand and cameraman in tow.

“Aemond Targaryen? Already moving on after the separation I see?”, the reporter half-shouts behind Aemond to get his attention.

His date turns around in response to the comment, smiling as her emerald gaze observes the reporter. The news of your separation had been speculated on a few minor fansites after someone leaked an email from your solicitor's office, but neither you nor Aemond had made any statement about it.

He wasn’t planning on giving one now either, unimpressed eye giving the reporter a once-over before huffing in amusement and gesturing for his date to follow him inside.

The reporter, set on getting an answer from the rising star, chuckles before forcefully shoving the microphone in Aemond’s face,

“Women come and go, is that the case?”, he presses with a cheeky wink.

Aemond huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, something like that”, he says, wrapping his arm around his date’s shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.

You’d later learn that the date from that night was his new manager, Alys Rivers.

Funny how he’d gotten a manager to handle his possible solo work.

Six months prior, when you’d been approached by a talent scout asking if you’d ever thought of doing solo stuff on the side, Aemond had been absolutely livid. After giving the agent a few well-chosen words, he had stormed off, leaving you upset and confused.

It was ultimately his jealousy and possessiveness that broke your marriage, getting to a point where you felt like you couldn’t be with him any longer. Neither as a lover nor a friend.

Now, the only place he can take in your life is as your bandmate; business partner, and nothing more.

You’d seriously considered leaving the band when you decided on leaving him. Still, somewhere deep inside you can’t shake this feeling that what your band has is something unique; something you won’t find anywhere else.

You and Aemond had started the band with Helaena right around the time you’d first met.

The three of you quickly bonded over your shared vision of what kind of music you’d like to make. On top of that, your voices sounded so good together, Aemond providing structure with his precision while you focused on conveying raw emotions.

So you decided to stick it out, work with your ex-husband in order to make the music that you wanted.

You’re an artist. All artists suffered for their art, right? You’d just have to suck this up and get on with it; continue to create art. And the pain would be worth it.

Besides, truth be told, you’d never met anyone quite as talented as Aemond. You’d never met anyone else who understood the music you wanted to create quite like he did.

When it came to music, you two almost had a telepathic connection. As someone who relies a lot on intuition and ‘that feeling in your gut’, you found it hard to describe music and your visions for it in general. But with Aemond you never needed to; he understood. Two minds wired the same.

Unfortunately, that wordless communication only stretched as far as music.

You think back to one of the last conversations you had before you left him.

You’d tried to confront him about his temper and inability to keep his jealousy in check, and he’d promptly ignored you; defaulting into shutting you out.

Exhausted, you resorted to the only solution you could come up with.

“Maybe we should spend some time apart, let things cool down a bit”, you try, purposefully making your voice as gentle as possible.

Aemond, who’d been staring out the window of your apartment in contemplative rage, quickly turns to face you, expression impassive but one eye furious.

“If you want some ‘time apart’ you might as well get on with it and leave”, he says, voice chilly. Sometimes when he’s angry, he sounds so hateful it hurts your heart.

“What do you want me to do Aemond?”, you reply, patience running thin as anger overcomes you, “You don’t allow me to live my life, you hinder any chance of growth I have-”,

“Growth!? What else do you need?”, he spits back. “Do you understand what it means to be married to someone? I do fucking everything for you, you’re my wife!”

“Sure, chain me to our marriage. Keep me shackled to you forever, that’s what you want, isn’t it? While you fuck around town, relishing in the freedom you never allow me”

Your agitated voice matches his. You know your words will hurt him.

Aemond exhales loudly. His jaw’s shut tight and misty gaze piercing. He has a tendency to shut down during fights, especially when he doesn't have a snide remark waiting at the back of his mind.

Aemond’s eyes, locking yours in a death stare, narrow,

“So you want out?”

The flight to Dragonstone goes by in a flash, and after a quick soundcheck at the venue, the five members of Dragon Dreamers start getting ready for the show. 

You and Helaena do your usual routine of getting ready together, checking each other’s makeup and hair.

As the venue starts to fill up, the band gathers backstage, quickly running through your set one last time. You try to shoot a covert glance at Aemond, but he immediately finds your eyes. As always, he looks impeccable.

“Since we’ve finished ‘The Chain’ in production, I suggest we play that as our opening number tonight. It’s fast-paced and will get the crowd moving”, Aemond states, looking at his bandmates for approval.

They all nod knowingly, catching you by surprise.

“I’m not sure I’m familiar with ‘The Chain’”, you say, trying to sound neutral though you suspect he chose a song you don’t know on purpose.

“It’s the one you did some backup vocals on in the studio”, Aemond replies, throwing you a quick look, “Me and Helaena can sing the verses and you can join in during the chorus”, he offers, moving to pick up his guitar, signalling that he’s done with the conversation.

Great, first song on opening night and you’ll stand there like a deer in headlights.

You sigh quietly and grab your tambourine. If you’re not going to sing you’ll at least try to join in by jamming a bit to the beat. Only one thing echoes in your mind,

Don’t let him get to you!

‘The Chain’ starts playing. Steady drums beat in a slow rhythm as Aemond plays a bluesy melody on his guitar, and you realise that it is one of the songs that you and he had worked on when you were still together.

Last time you heard it, you had worked out the melody, but not really pinned down the lyrics. Aemond must’ve taken it upon himself to finish it, completely steering away from the direction you thought the song would take.

‘Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise’

Why haven't you heard anything about this new edit?

A chill runs down your spine.

Has he re-written it to be about you?

‘Run in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies’

Yes he has.

You and Aemond got married at sunrise by the Hightower summer house in Highgarden in June two years ago.

Aemond had proposed to you only five weeks prior, and being so in love that you couldn’t possibly imagine being separated for more than 15 minutes, you decided to tie the knot as quickly as possible.

You just wanted to be his.

That had been one of your fondest memories together; a small ceremony that was only yours.

Now, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Memories rotting from within.

You hate it. You don’t want to think about that now.

Damn him. Damn his love. Damn his lies.

‘And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again’

‘I can still hear you saying, “you would never break the chain”’

As he sings, he sounds so angry, his voice is almost foreign to you.

He usually tries to keep his emotions in check, even when performing. Probably too scared to be vulnerable enough to let people know he actually has feelings, you reckon.

You remember the song and the rapid pace it picks up. Trying to ignore what you think is Aemond staring at you from the side of the stage, you dance and sing to the song about your heartbreak.

You let the music consume you as you work the tambourine, dancing and spinning, trying to relish in the feeling of knowing your band had made a killer song.

The audience is loving it. You have never heard them this rowdy before, and you can see the entire venue dancing.

You keep going, trying to distract yourself so your gaze won’t travel to Aemond.

He had played a rough first version of the guitar solo he wanted to incorporate in the song for you when you were still together. It really was phenomenal, fitting perfectly with the climax of the song.

He’s an insanely skilled guitarist, never missing a note and always instinctively knowing exactly what melody will match the feel of a song.

The audience is loving it, screaming and dancing with you.

Feeling braver and with the adrenaline from the performance running through your veins, you come up to your mic and sing along with Aemond and Helaena, chanting in unison.

The three of you sound good, like you always do.

The realisation gives you comfort; there’s still hope for your band.

‘Chain, keep us together’

‘Running in the shadows’

You can do this.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🫶

[jweekgoji]

Hiiiii, I really love your Yan! Sentinel x Prime!Reader, also your SentinelxReaderxStarscream are the best as well! I am a huge fan of both works and both characters, your writings are so *chef kiss* Can I request a somewhat mix of both please? Maybe the Prime!Reader are close with Starscream and it makes Sentinel angry/jealous? Obviously you don't have to, but if you do write for it please take your time :3

Prime!Reader/Starscream/Sentinel

tw: jealousy, rivalry (between Starscream&Sentinel), gender neutral reader. word count: ~1270 a/n: good to know you enjoyed my other fics~ sorry for making you wait too long! the last weeks are exhausting ~_~

Being one of the 13 Primes is no simple task when you have to stand between two fires.

The incoming attack from the Quintessons didn't give you a single cycle of peace either. Over and over again, you've had to brainstorm a new plan with your brothers and sisters on how to push the enemy away from Cybertron. It's exhausting.

At times, you long to lock yourself away in your own chambers, switch off your audio receptors to finally get a break from it all. But luck never seems to be on your side. Every new day started with a new problem, and for some reason, you only had to hear about it from two bots you knew.

Starscream and Sentinel.

Your day could start with an early call from Starscream, where your subordinate, though not literally, hinted at having him accompany you at all times. His presence is absolutely required!

Well that's just Prime.

But when you hear a knock on your door, you don't have to guess twice to find out who it could be. When you finally open the door, standing before you is none other than your faithful servant, Sentinel.

“You look as beautiful as ever,”  Sentinel smiles as he looks in your optics. “And your armour is so wonderfully polished, as I can see.”

Starting your afternoon meeting with compliments was something he was used to, even if his attempts to charm you with his speeches never worked. You are many cycles older than him, Sentinel's behaviour only amuses you at best.

“Zeta Prime would like to discuss something with you, let me escort you to him,” he holds his servos behind his back, taking a couple of steps back from the doorway.

“Zeta wants to see me?” you have a momentary thought. In the current time, that means another long meeting, hours of planning and working out...You nod.

“After you,” he humbly motions for you to go through first, his bright blue optics just drilling your own.

As you walk through the long corridors of the tower, the loud clacking of heels comes from somewhere behind you.

“There you are! I've been waiting for you for like practically half an hour now! Where were you all the time...’ Starscream says in annoyance, his wings twitching faintly as the high guard notices...him.

For a moment, a spark of competition runs between your two subjects. Fortunately, or not for them, it never caught your attention, though perhaps you simply preferred to turn a blind eye to it. You have too many responsibilities right now to waste time on those two.

Sentinel still holds that casual pose, helmet tilted slightly, as if the mere sight of the enraged flyer gives him some kind of enjoyment. It doesn't even help that he's standing behind you, you can't even see that nasty grin on Sentinel's face! Oh, how that slimy, hypocritical glitch is annoying-.

“Not now, Starscream. I'll deal with this later. Wait for me here,’ you calmly respond, then turn around and disappear behind the doors of the hall, where the rest of the Primes are already waiting.

The door slams shut, leaving the high guard and the advisor alone. Starscream frowns, his red optics aimed at Sentinel, who looks equally displeased.

Even though Sentinel was lucky enough to see you first today, the advisor had to come up with all sorts of excuses for you to pay the slightest bit of attention to him. He's occasionally lucky because you prefer Starscream's company to his own! Or so he thinks at first. As one of the Primes, you spend a lot of time on the battlefield, which makes you more often accompanied by Starscream.

Sentinel hates that. Most of the Primes, even Zeta himself calls on him far more often than you do! He's YOUR advisor, how can you care more about some guard?

Knowing Sentinel, if you were even with him for almost all of your time, any side glance would make him extremely jealous.

“You're doing this on purpose. Wasting their time on something that isn't helpful in the war,” Starscream crosses his arms over his chassis, not even hiding his displeasure.

“Me? I would never ,” the Sentinel makes an indignant look that is painfully unserious. “I'm just a mere asvisor to them, helping out with a word here and there. Are you afraid of getting screwed, perhaps?’

“To whom, you? Don't be ridiculous,” Starscream rolls his optics, then steps closer to the Sentinel. “They hardly notice you.”

“You want to bet, Screamer?”

“Bet.”

You don't know how long it's been since you left them alone, but by the time you arrive, Starscream and Sentinel are there, waiting for you. Not a hint of hostility between them, which is surprising. Whatever had happened there during your absence, they had found another target.

After that day, you completely forgot about such a concept as “peacefulness”. Every day, personal space was violated by one of them. If Starscream insisted on accompanying your every move, Sentinel would surely find another reason to distract and then steal you away from poor jet.

It went on like this time after time until you decided to end this madness once and for all.

When Sentinel unexpectedly received your message, he was hardly strong enough not to give the slightest sign of how extremely pleased he was. You, waiting for HIM, in your chambers? Oh, how much that could mean....

How surprised he was to see none other than Starscream at the door- Oh, lovely. Just when he's fantasising about nice things, you find a chance to ruin his dreams.

Had you left them alone for a split second, another fight would surely have broken out, but luckily neither of them have time to utter a word before you suddenly open the door.

“Come in.”

Starscream and Sentinel throw each other a quick fleeting glance, but not another word and they enter your room. It's large, rich, in your style. They've rarely had the chance to be here, even for a moment.

You stand beside your desk, seated in the centre of the room. You can recall many nights spent at it, searching for solutions to Cybertron's problems. Your gaze is neutral, though inside you are far from calm.

“May I ask the reason why you decided to call me and...’’ Sentinel pauses briefly before looking at his colleague again. Starscream gives him the same look, as if daring him to make yet another annoying comment.

“Your behaviour,” you begin first again, closing your optics for a moment, trying to remain calm.

“It's all Sentinel's fault,” Starscream blurts out sharply, pointing at the blue-and-gold fur.

“Of course— stop. What?!” Sentinel exclaims, now it's his turn to be outraged.

“Incompetent, arrogant toady, he should have been removed from his position a long time ago, ” Starscream continues to recount, which can't help but cause Sentinel's optic to twitch.

“I'm talking about the both of you.”

Well, that certainly got their attention. And thankfully, so did shutting up.

No matter how tempting the idea of removing the two of them from their positions and sending them away, you can't raise your hand and dismiss them. How lucky you are that one of your brothers, while drinking high grade energon, blabbed to you about everything and gave you some wonderful idea.

“Whoever completes as many of my errands as possible during the week will receive a special reward from me.”

You pause again for a moment, watching their reactions. Both of your best subordinates look startled, but, extremely interested. For that reason, you continue.

“I expect excellent results. Don't disappoint.”

[momolady]

Commissions Are Open!

I'll be accepting a few a month so send an email to get into the queue.

The Spiel:

Include a genre or theme if you so wish. Such as horror, romance, angst, fluff, etc.

If you want one of my universes, please include it as well. Ruby Empire, Hearthway Hollow, the Carnival, etc.

If you have a story idea, please include a few sentences of plot for me to work with. The more details the better

If you wish to include your OC please provide references so I can do them justice.

All characters must be 18+ for nsfw content.

All payments must be made in USD, & invoices will be sent upfront.

I have the right to refuse commissions

Discussion will take place via email or through discord if requested.

You will receive commissions through email unless requested otherwise.

Changes can be made, but there is a limit of 2 revisions. (I’m soft though so who knows if I’ll keep this up.)

All stories will be posted to my Patreon, Tumblr, and maybe ko-fi. OC can be changed upon request for public stories. You will always have the original story.

My stories can not be posted anywhere else.

Longer stories may receive an increase in price. (Under 10k words is usually fine. I enjoy longer works personally.)

Stories take anywhere from one to three weeks to complete once started depending on length, detail, etc. Feel free to ask for updates, previews, etc.

East Commission Form:

What is your budget (or desired word count):

Genre/Universe/Theme:

Reader Character Gender:

Reader Character Description:

Monster Character:

Monster Character Description:

Is this NSFW or SFW?

Any kinks, tropes, or specifics?

Story Outline:

Other thoughts or comments:

What You can Commission:

All monsters and creatures from media, folklore, myth, crytozoology, etc. (Within the bounds of cultural sensitivity.)

Horror stories. This can be straight horror, romance, smut, etc. Slasher, Lovecraftian, weird, etc.

Magical girl stories. Heroes as well.

Original Characters are always welcome.

Legally distinct characters are okay. I don’t write fanfic, but I’m happy to build your dream character with an existing character as reference.

If you need an idea for character or plot, I will brainstorm with you. I also will do free reign stories for a small discount.

Continuing stories from my masterlist is also accepted! I enjoy revisiting beloved characters.

Plotting help for your own stories such as outlines, character bios, etc. (This is new dunno where it’ll go.)

Moodboard can be requested upon story completion if wanted. Otherwise it will be seen on Patreon first.

Themes:

Smut of course. Other NSFW themes can be done upon approval. (No under 18 or dub-con themes.)

All romance of course. Ranging from slow burn, enemies to lovers, one bed, etc.

LGBTQIA+ themes are always welcome.

Classic tropes:forbidden love, fake dating, friends to enemies, hurt-comfort, stuck together, cafe au, etc.

Horror stories, romantic or not. The weirder the better.

Fantasy: can include anything from DnD themed, urban fantasy, future, past, other worlds, etc.

Fluff: domestic bliss, confessions, dates, proposals, etc.

Platonic stories.

Plot heavy.

PWP

[lick-me-lennon22]

Beatles X ADHD!Reader Headcanons

(Hello, everyone!! I apologize for the short hiatus, I've been going through a lot following my 21st birthday as well as some family/work troubles. I also want to give a happy, happy 84th birthday full of peace and love to the one and only Richard Starkey!!! ☮️💞☮️💞☮️💞 As always, please let me know if anything in this post comes across as offensive or insensitive, and take what resonates with you :) I'm glad to be back and hope you all enjoy this post!!)

John

John is intrigued by your unique perspective and view of the world

He admires your creativity and often finds inspiration in your spontaneous ideas

He encourages you to channel your energy into your passions - whether it's music, art, or any other creative pursuit

John understands that you may struggle with focus at times and offers gentle reminders or helps you create strategies to stay organized

He'll support you through restless nights by staying up and chatting with you, plagued by his own insomnia, and helps you get your energy out

He also understands that you may thrive in an environment that may seem chaotic to others, but embraces the unpredictability and encourages you to express yourself freely without fear of judgement

John greatly values your honesty and openness about your challenges

He shares his own vulnerabilities and struggles with you, creating a bond built on mutual understanding and support

He enjoys engaging in deep conversations with you, exploring different topics and learning from your point of view

You two often have late-night chats that range from philosophical discussions to whimsical flights of fancy

He appreciates your ability to jump from topic to topic, finding it refreshing and inspiring

John absolutely loves to collaborate with you on creative projects, whether it's writing songs together or brainstorming ideas for new ventures

Your spontaneous and unique ideas often lead to innovative and unexpected song lyrics or artistic projects

During times when you feel overwhelmed or distracted, John offers a supportive presence

Whether it's through gentle reminders, offering reassurance, or simply listening as you ramble about your latest hyperfixation, he provides unwavering comfort and understanding

Paul

Paul is naturally a very supportive and nurturing partner

He is exceptionally patient and understanding during times when you become distracted or overwhelmed

He also thrives on creating structure and routine, which helps you manage your symptoms effectively

He'll collaborate with you to create adaptive routines and to-do lists that accommodate you, designing schedules that provide flexibility while ensuring important tasks are completed without stress

Paul helps you channel your creative energy into organized projects

He enjoys planning songwriting sessions or artistic endeavors that allow you to streamline your enthusiasm and ideas

Paul listens attentively when you ramble and infodump about your hyperfixations

His optimism and positivity uplift you, helping you feel more confident and capable in managing your ADHD

He always makes it a point to celebrate your achievements, big and small, recognizing the effort and determination it takes to accomplish tasks despite your ADHD-related challenges

Paul is very attuned to your emotional needs, offering comfort and support during moments of frustration or overwhelm

During periods of self-doubt, Paul makes sure to emphasize his belief in your abilities and resilience

He will also take the liberty of decluttering your work and living spaces, as well as locating items you may have misplaced, wanting to keep you from experiencing additional stress

He will often pick up your medication for you (if applicable), and always reminds you to take your meds

Paul helps you set clear goals and prioritize your tasks

He suggests therapies and coping mechanisms, helping you to make informed decisions to improve your daily life

George

George appreciates your spontaneity and creativity, and feels it aligns well with his laid-back personality

He encourages you to explore different hobbies and interests, recognizing your potential to excel in various creative endeavors

He values your insight and often seeks your perspective on music, philosophy, and art

George appreciates your ability to share your experiences openly with him, even when your thoughts are racing or your emotions are intense

You bond over using music as a form of therapy, playing acoustic guitars together or listening to soothing melodies that help calm your mind and enhance your focus

George enjoys spending quiet moments with you - whether it's meditating, enjoying nature, or simply existing and decompressing together

He loves to escape with you to peaceful, natural settings where you can both unwind, connect with one another, and find inspiration in the beauty of your surroundings

He provides a calming presence for you, helping you feel grounded and supported in moments of overwhelm or distraction

George notices small details about your behavior and mood, which helps him recognize when you need gentle reminders or space to recharge

He always respects your need for personal space and quiet moments

George, of course, introduces you to and walks you through mindfulness practices and meditation techniques that help you center yourself and manage your ADHD symptoms more effectively

He supports you in setting boundaries and encourages you to prioritize self-care

George shares his passion for health and wellbeing with you, encouraging activities like yoga, journaling, and nutritious cooking, which promote physical and mental balance

Ringo

Ringo embraces your spontaneity, finding joy and solace in your playful and creative nature

He values your unique talents and perspectives, always taking genuine interest in your hyperfixations

Ringo encourages you to express yourself freely and to always embrace your quirks and unique strengths

His humor and warmth create a positive atmosphere where you feel accepted and cherished for who you are

His lighthearted approach helps alleviate day-to-day stress and pressure

Ringo finds great pleasure in making you laugh, and appreciates your own playful sense of humor and view of things

Ringo is naturally flexible and adaptable, which helps him to navigate your changing moods and interests with ease

He recognizes that your ADHD may lead to shifts in your interests or priorities and remains supportive and understanding in these moments

Ringo enjoys planning outings and activities that cater to your interests, making sure you're both engaged and having fun

He savors moments of comfortable silence and parallel play with you, where you can simply be together without constant need for stimulation or conversation

He deeply appreciates the peace and connection found in these quiet moments

Ringo creates a safe space for you to express yourself creatively however you see fit - whether it be through doodling, writing, or other forms of artistic expression

Empathy is a huge aspect of his support, as he also struggles with ADHD symptoms and navigates his challenges alongside yours

He provides a comforting and understanding presence during times where you feel frustrated or overstimulated

Ringo offers a calming and positive demeanor, as well as unconditional support, reassuring you that you are not alone in managing your ADHD

[andy-15-07]

Hi! Could you please write an Aaron × director! girlfriend fiction, where they make together the movie 'A million little pieces'? Thanks!

Fragments of Us

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count:2892 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

Aaron arrived on the bustling set early one crisp autumn morning, his mind already abuzz with ideas for their ambitious new project, A Million Little Pieces. The film was an intricate tapestry of human struggle and redemption, and every member of the team knew that this production was unlike anything they’d ever attempted before. As he stepped through the heavy set doors, he couldn’t help but notice the soft hum of creative energy in the air—and the one person whose presence immediately captured his attention was y/n.

Y/n wasn’t just any crew member; she was the director’s girlfriend, known for her keen eye for detail and an uncanny ability to smooth over production mishaps with a gentle laugh and a well-timed suggestion. Today, however, there was an added intensity in her gaze as she watched Aaron approach, her eyes flickering with a mixture of professional respect and something more private, something that neither of them had quite acknowledged until now.

“Good morning, Aaron,” she greeted warmly, extending her hand as they passed by a cluster of busy assistants. “I’ve been looking forward to discussing the scene breakdowns with you.”

Aaron accepted her hand with a charming smile. “Morning, y/n. I was hoping to catch up with you. I’ve got some new thoughts about the opening sequence—something raw and intimate that I think might really set the tone.”

They walked together toward a quieter corner of the set, where a makeshift lounge area had been arranged for impromptu brainstorming sessions. The chatter of the crew faded into the background as they settled into comfortable chairs, the soft murmur of distant conversations melding with the rustle of papers and the occasional clink of a coffee mug.

“So, tell me what you’ve been mulling over,” y/n said, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. “I know this film means a lot to you—and to all of us.”

Aaron’s eyes lit up as he began to speak. “I want the audience to feel every little fragment of the protagonist’s internal battle. Imagine a scene where the camera lingers on the smallest gestures—a trembling hand, a tear that almost falls, the barely perceptible tightening of the jaw—each shot speaking volumes without a word being uttered.”

Y/n nodded thoughtfully. “I love that idea. It’s like we’re piecing together a mosaic of emotions, each fragment contributing to the larger story.” Her voice was soft yet assured, and as she spoke, Aaron felt his heart rate quicken. There was an intimacy in the way she articulated her vision—a vulnerability paired with strength.

Aaron leaned in, lowering his voice slightly. “I’ve been thinking… maybe there’s a way for our characters to mirror each other’s struggles. Not in a literal sense, but in the way their lives intersect. It’s as if every moment is a tiny, almost imperceptible piece of something greater.”

Their conversation flowed seamlessly, punctuated by bursts of laughter and moments of silence filled with mutual understanding. Over the next hour, they pored over storyboards and scribbled notes on napkins, each dialogue exchange drawing them closer. At one point, y/n’s eyes met Aaron’s, and in that brief moment, a spark passed between them—an unspoken recognition of the emotional risk they were both taking by sharing these personal insights.

As the day wore on, the production schedule loomed large, and they found themselves pulled in different directions. Yet even in the midst of chaotic call sheets and last-minute adjustments, the two would steal moments to chat in quiet corridors or over quick coffee breaks.

Later that afternoon, while reviewing the day's footage in a small screening room, Aaron and y/n sat side by side. The tension of the editing room was palpable as they discussed the raw, unpolished scenes that now lay before them on the monitor.

“I noticed something in this take,” Aaron commented, pausing the footage with a click of the remote. “When I’m supposed to be breaking down emotionally, there’s this split-second when your expression in the background seems almost… reflective. Like you’re witnessing more than just the performance.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she met his gaze. “I—I suppose I was really absorbing the scene,” she admitted softly. “Sometimes, the emotions you evoke on set have a way of resonating with everyone present. It’s like I can’t help but feel every little piece of what you’re trying to convey.”

Aaron’s smile was gentle but laced with something more. “That’s exactly what I’m aiming for. Every little piece, every quiet moment—they all matter. It’s almost as if our own emotions are interwoven with the film’s story.”

Their dialogue was punctuated by pauses and shared smiles, each comment layering over the previous one until the conversation became less about the film and more about the subtle dance of their mutual admiration. But even as they delved deeper into their creative discussion, both were acutely aware of the ethical labyrinth they were navigating. Y/n was, after all, the director’s girlfriend—a fact that weighed heavily on both of them, even as their connection deepened.

A few days later, after a long day of shooting an emotionally charged scene in a rain-soaked alleyway, Aaron found y/n alone on the set. The rain had finally ceased, leaving behind a damp, reflective silence that matched the mood of the scene they’d just filmed.

“y/n,” Aaron began hesitantly, “I’ve been meaning to ask… how do you manage to keep your passion for the project so unwavering? I mean, with everything happening on and off set, it seems like you carry this calm determination that steadies us all.”

She smiled, though it was tinged with a hint of melancholy. “I think it’s because I believe in the story we’re telling, in every single little piece that builds it up. Sometimes, the world feels overwhelming, but then I remember that every fragment—every tear, every smile—has a purpose. It’s not just about making a movie; it’s about capturing something real.”

Aaron’s gaze softened as he listened to her. “I feel that too. It’s like… every time we connect on these ideas, I see a reflection of my own struggles and hopes. And somehow, in those moments, everything makes sense.”

Their eyes locked, and for a heartbeat the noisy world around them fell away. It was in that silence that the unspoken words began to form—a conversation not of ideas, but of emotions too profound to articulate in ordinary language.

Yet, even as the tension between them grew, both were mindful of the consequences. Aaron knew that crossing that line could hurt the director, someone he respected immensely, and y/n was painfully aware of her own conflicted loyalties. They decided then that they would let the film speak for itself, pouring their hearts into the work, hoping that the art might justify the complexity of their emotions.

Over the next several weeks, their collaboration deepened. They often found themselves working late into the night after the rest of the crew had left, their whispered conversations floating in the dim light of the editing bay. The film’s narrative began to mirror their own internal journey—fragile, tentative, and built on countless tiny moments of understanding.

One evening, as they reviewed a particularly intense sequence where Aaron’s character grappled with inner demons, y/n couldn’t hold back her thoughts any longer. “Aaron, do you ever feel like these moments we’re creating… they’re pieces of our own story? I mean, every subtle glance, every line of dialogue—it’s like we’re rewriting ourselves with every take.”

Aaron paused the scene, turning to her with a look of quiet intensity. “Every piece of art is a mirror, y/n. What we create on set, the emotions we channel, they’re not just for the audience—they’re for us, too. I see pieces of my own soul in these shots, and sometimes, I wonder if you see them too.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she responded, “I see them, Aaron. More than you know. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying—to see yourself so clearly reflected in someone else’s work. And yet, it feels like the most honest part of me.”

They sat there in the half-light, the boundaries of professional decorum blurring as their shared passion for the craft left them vulnerable. In the quiet hum of the projector, every word they exchanged was a confession, every shared look an admission of feelings they’d been hesitant to name.

In the following days, the production grew more frenetic as the deadline for shooting neared. The pressure mounted, and with it, the emotional stakes of the film. During a particularly chaotic afternoon, a scheduling mix-up had everyone on edge, and tempers began to flare. Amid the commotion, Aaron and y/n found themselves alone in a narrow corridor behind the set, seeking refuge from the storm.

“Why is everything so out of sync today?” y/n asked, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and fatigue. “I can’t stand to see everyone so stressed.”

Aaron put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s just one of those days, y/n. We’ll get through this—piece by piece. You know, I’ve always admired how you keep your head clear even when everything’s falling apart.”

She laughed softly, a bittersweet sound in the tension-filled corridor. “Maybe it’s because I have someone who reminds me that even in chaos, there’s beauty. Someone who helps me see that every broken piece can eventually be mended.”

For a long moment, they simply stood there, the air thick with unspoken words. Finally, Aaron spoke, his voice low. “I know this might be too complicated to say right now, with everything in play, but I can’t help feeling that these moments—our moments—are too precious to let slip by unnoticed.”

Y/n looked up at him, conflicted eyes searching his face. “Aaron, you know how I feel about loyalty and commitment. I love what we’re creating here, and I respect the people we work with. But sometimes, I wonder if we’re risking too much of ourselves for a fleeting spark.”

He sighed, the weight of his own conflicted emotions evident in his tone. “I’m not asking for anything to be resolved overnight. I just… I need you to know that when I’m with you, it feels like I’m finally complete. It’s as if every piece of the puzzle is clicking into place, even if it scares me.”

The corridor fell silent again, their words hanging in the air like delicate shards of glass. It was a moment suspended between professional duty and personal desire—a moment where art and life intertwined in a way that defied simple categorization.

In the following days, as the production pressed on, both Aaron and y/n immersed themselves in the creative process. They spent long hours discussing not just the film’s technical aspects, but its soul. Every discussion about lighting, framing, or the pacing of a scene became an opportunity to explore their inner worlds.

One afternoon, while reviewing the final cut of a scene that had taken weeks to perfect, y/n couldn’t contain her excitement. “Aaron, listen to this: ‘In every shattered reflection, we find a thousand truths waiting to be discovered.’ Doesn’t that line just resonate with everything we’re trying to say?”

Aaron’s eyes twinkled with admiration. “It does. It’s like the film is speaking through you. Every line you help craft, every nuance you bring to the table—it’s all so vital. And it reminds me that our work here isn’t just about the story on screen; it’s about the journey we’re all on.”

Their dialogue, filled with creative insights and personal revelations, became the foundation of their collaboration. They argued over the best way to capture a particular emotion, then reconciled with laughter and renewed determination. Their bond, forged in the fires of creative passion, grew ever stronger with each passing day—even as the ethical dilemmas of their situation loomed in the background.

One night, after a long day of shooting an emotionally draining sequence in a dimly lit studio, Aaron and y/n found themselves alone again in the quiet of the editing room. The set was empty, the only light coming from the soft glow of the monitors and a single desk lamp. The intimacy of the space seemed to encourage honesty.

“y/n,” Aaron said softly, turning from the screen to face her, “do you ever wonder if all these little pieces—our conversations, our shared glances—are leading us somewhere we can’t go back from?”

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, the only sound was the quiet hum of the machines. “I do,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Every decision feels like it’s building towards something inevitable. And yet, I can’t help but feel that without these moments, without this risk, I’d be living a life that’s only half-lived.”

Aaron took a cautious step closer. “Sometimes, the risk is what makes it all worthwhile. We pour so much of ourselves into this project—into every piece of it—that to hold back would be like denying a part of who we are. I know it’s complicated, but when I’m here with you, it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke through the last of her defenses. “Aaron, I—” she began, then paused as she searched his face for reassurance. “I’m scared. Scared of hurting others, of crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed. But at the same time, I can’t deny that what we have, even if it’s just in these stolen moments, feels real.”

He reached out and gently cupped her cheek. “I understand, y/n. And I promise you, I never intended for any of this to cause pain. But I also believe that sometimes, life isn’t as black and white as we’d like it to be. We’re all made of millions of little pieces—fragile, imperfect, and infinitely valuable. And right now, every piece of me is drawn to you.”

Their conversation, rich with emotion and truth, marked a turning point. They knew that the path ahead would be fraught with complications, that the repercussions of their actions could ripple outwards, affecting those around them. And yet, in that quiet, shared moment, the intensity of their connection eclipsed every fear and every doubt.

In the final stretch of filming, as the set buzzed with the energy of completion, Aaron and y/n worked together with renewed passion. Their dialogues became the silent heartbeat of the production—a constant reminder that art was born out of risk, vulnerability, and the courage to embrace every little piece of one’s self.

On the last day of shooting, as the crew gathered for a final debrief in the nearly empty soundstage, Aaron and y/n found a moment to speak away from prying eyes and busy schedules. The air was thick with the bittersweet scent of accomplishment and the looming uncertainty of what lay ahead.

“y/n,” Aaron said, his voice steady despite the turbulent emotions swirling within him, “I want you to know that every day working on this film with you has been transformative. I can’t predict what the future holds, but I do know that this—us, this creative journey—has changed me forever.”

She offered him a soft, sad smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Aaron, I feel the same way. I don’t know how we’ll navigate everything from here, especially with the complications we face. But I also know that the pieces of this film, the pieces of our lives, have come together in a way that I never imagined.”

He stepped closer, his hand finding hers. “Maybe one day, when the world isn’t watching so closely, we can explore what all these little pieces mean beyond the screen. Until then, let’s keep creating, keep building something that transcends the boundaries that try to hold us back.”

In that moment, their whispered promises mingled with the fading light of the soundstage, a quiet vow to cherish every fragment of what they had built together. They understood that the work they had done on A Million Little Pieces was more than a film—it was a living testament to the power of vulnerability, the courage to confront one’s inner demons, and the beauty of finding connection in the most unexpected places.

As the crew began to pack up, and the echoes of their shared laughter and earnest conversations lingered in the empty corridors, Aaron and y/n exchanged one last look—a look that spoke of hope, regret, and the unyielding belief that every broken piece could eventually form something whole.

Walking out into the cool night air, they paused under a flickering streetlamp. The city around them buzzed with life, each passerby a collection of countless little stories, each a million little pieces of their own. And in that vast mosaic of existence, for one fleeting night, Aaron and y/n allowed themselves to simply be—two souls bound together by the magic of creation, daring to risk everything for a chance at truth.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Aaron murmured, his voice carrying both farewell and promise.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” she replied, her tone soft yet resolute. “And thank you—for showing me that even in a world of fragmented pieces, love can be the thread that ties it all together.”

In the silence that followed, amid the gentle hum of the city and the promise of new beginnings, every little piece of their intertwined journey shimmered with the possibility of a future they were brave enough to imagine.

[osemanverse-events]

[applications closed]

osemanverse events is looking for mods!

please, share this post if you can!

hi! if you don't know, this is a project that focuses on organising various fan events for the osemanverse fandom. up until now, this has been run by a single person, but i've decided to recruit some help!

what does being a mod include? well, first of all, i'm looking for people who know more about various corners of the osemanverse than i do, so they can help me set up fun activities for every part of this community! the events may include, but are not limited to: fan weeks, art/writing challenges, secret santa type exchanges.

you can also apply for helping with making banners and writing posts, although i can mostly manage this part by myself.

REQUIREMENTS :  1. you must be over 16 2. you must have a discord (tumblr doesn't have a groupchat feature) 3. you don't need to have copious amount of free time, but you must have some. don't apply if you're constantly busy! 4. you don't have to be familiar with every single one of alice's work, but the more, the better 5. you must be ready to actively participate in event organising. that mainly includes coming up with different event ideas and discussing them! don't apply if you are not ready to take part in brainstorming 6. you have to be responsible and reliable. if something is entrusted to you, do it properly, otherwise you may (and will) lose your mod position 7. skills like art, image editing or writing are not required, but welcomed

[changingplumbob]

Struck by Love - April 1st Posts 1-5

CW: Moderate level sim spice, language - Guide to content warnings

Please do not engage with this post if you're under 18 or such things make you uncomfortable. Sims woohoo with wicked whims and there is a dom/sub undercurrent. Actual plot important stuff will be back 2nd post tomorrow.

When we got to my room she laid on my bed and sighed.

Rachel: This is comfy. You may sit

I did and she swung her legs in to my lap.

Rachel: I’ve seen you eyeing up my legs

Byron: You have a very short skirt, I can’t help it

Rachel: Did I say you could talk to me? No. Now, use that over eager mouth of yours to properly appreciate my legs

So I did my best, kissing what I could reach, following her demands.

Rachel: Now before things get any more intimate we do have to discuss safe words. Do you know what they are? You’re allowed to answer

Byron: They’re like consent checks right? Like if I said mine we’d stop what we were doing

Rachel: Exactly. No judgement if you don't want to do something. Just making sure it’s fun for both of us

She sat up, taking her legs off me and told me what her safe word was. Then she helped me brainstorm mine before standing up.

Byron: Wait- you’re not leaving are you?

Rachel: *chuckling* You’re so needy

Byron: Do you want me not to be

Rachel: No. In fact I’m rather counting on you to be needy tonight

Byron: So are you saying we might...

Rachel: If you want me to let you be a fuckboy you have to use your manners and ask properly

Byron: Please Rachel... let me woohoo you

Rachel: Get your composition book. The small one, just for lyrics

I grabbed it and sat on the bed. Rachel came over and pressed her body against mine.

Rachel: Show me what you’ve been working on and I’ll see if you’ve done enough to have fun

I flicked it open to the stuff I’d written that week. She pushed my torso down so I was almost laying rather than sitting and moved her left arm behind my back. Her right arm moved on to my inner thigh and begun to apply pressure.

Rachel: There is a good amount here... You’re working on some more originals?

Byron: Ye- yes

It was hard to focus. Her boobs were practically right in my face and the pressure on my leg... Damn, she knew what she was doing. I hoped there was some non boob moves I could pick up.

Rachel: You want me to let you be a fuckboy then? You want me to let you woohoo with me? You can tell me

Damn, why was talking suddenly so hard?

Byron: Yes, yes please

Grinning she took her sweater and skirt off. She had some underwear but her top half... she’d not had anything under that sweater. Her voice dropped low and husky.

Rachel: You remember how you were a good boy and appreciated my legs? Well, convince my breasts that I should let you woohoo me

I did my best, getting more stuck in as she ran one hand through my hair and moved my other one where she wanted it.

Rachel: Stop. Lie back

I followed her instruction and watched as she took off my shoes, my pants, my boxers...

Rachel: Hmm... so this is what you use huh? Not too bad. But I should probably check it out before I let you use it on me

She grabbed me and ran her tongue-

Byron: Shit!

Rachel: *tuts* I didn’t say you could talk. Anything more than a whimper or a moan and I’ll stop

So she continued and I basically lost any kind of thinking ability I normally had. After she finished me off we lay there as I panted and tried to get a grip.

Rachel: Oh wow, hard again. You must be a really needy tonight

Grinning she grabbed a condom from who knows where, I couldn’t focus enough to tell.

[infiniteeight8]

Yess prompts!! More of the Alpha/Alpha series!! Maybe Tony and Stephen reuniting after Afghanistan? ❤️❤️

I’ve been pondering whether or not I wanted this to be a no-superheroes AU for a while. I’ve been able to dodge the question so far, but I guess I have to decide now. 😂

Ultimately, the thing I enjoy about this mini-series is the relationship building. I have no interest in wedging that in around the edges of canon. Plus I’m already doing that for Alpha Dragon Tony Omega Fox Stephen, which makes me want to do it here even less.

So it’s official: This is a no-superheroes AU. Which means no Afghanistan and no car accident. That said, if folks are still interested, I have a couple ideas for other ficlets in this series, some porny (I mean, it started with smut and there’s been none since!) and some plotty.

For today, have Stephen (and Tony) trying to get Pepper and Rhodey on board with their relationship.

-

Stephen is struggling. 

It’s been a long time since he’s bothered to try to charm someone into liking him. It just hasn’t mattered to him. But Pepper and Rhodey are important to Tony, and their disapproval of his relationship with Stephen is wearing on him. Stephen is sure Tony wouldn’t break the bond over it, but he wants Tony to be happy, and he wants their relationship to continue growing, and that means he needs to wiggle into Pepper and Rhodey’s good graces somehow.

Unfortunately, while they’re being polite, drinks and appetizers are already done and they definitely haven’t warmed up to him at all. Stephen’s stomach is in knots that have him dreading the entree. Stephen and Tony’s affection for each other and their bond—probably mostly the bond—had gotten Pepper and Rhodey to agree to dinner, but it sure isn’t a get out of jail free card, and Stephen can’t figure out what to talk about. They don’t know anything about medicine, and he doesn’t know anything about business, or the military. They’d discussed the weather. Stephen has never felt so at sea in his life.

Despite knowing it’ll be a strike against him, Stephen excuses himself after the appetizers are cleared away and retreats to the bathroom for a breather. He’s leaning against one of the sinks when the door opens and Tony slips inside. Stephen groans. “I’m sorry. I just needed a minute.”

“It’s fine,” Tony says, coming over to lean against the wall next to him. “They’re being pretty remote.” Tony makes a face. “Honestly, I’m not sure they’re holding up their end of the deal. Freezing you out is not giving you a chance.”

“Please don’t argue with them on my behalf,” Stephen insists. “That’ll probably only make it worse.”

Tony grimaces in a way that says Stephen is right. “How can I help, then?”

“Topics of conversation,” Stephen says. “Apparently I’ve lost the ability to talk to anyone but doctors and potential donors.”

“We never had any trouble,” Tony says, smiling.

That’s not at all down to Stephen. “You listen to me about medicine. And somehow, everything you talk about is interesting.”

Tony laughs. “I think you may be the only person in the world who thinks so. I ramble, people start tuning me out.”

Stephen snorts. “Idiots. They don’t know what they’re missing. Literally.”

Tony gives him a brief, soft smile before shaking it off into something more businesslike. “Topics of conversation. Pepper has an art collection. Well, I have an art collection, but she manages it, it’s really more hers at this point. Rhodey is always good for college shenanigans. Other options…” They brainstorm for another minute before returning to the table, Tony’s hand resting warmly in the small of Stephen’s back. Stephen draws on that sensation to fortify himself before settling back into his chair.

By the time dessert comes, Pepper has thawed enough to smile and Rhodes is laughing. But the real victory is the happy sparkle in Tony’s eyes.

[bloodblanks]

writing tutoring

status: open for those interested in learning how to write (from your hopefully favourite fanfiction author) :3

author's note: skills taught may include but are not limited to nsfw content. all ages are welcome.

hi! i’m going to assume that you’re reading this post because you’re interested in learning how to write. if so, you’re in the right place! (if not, i’m not entirely sure why you’re reading this :sob:)

as you (probably?) know by now, i am a fanfiction author. i primarily write dark romance with heavy angst and smut. i am also currently studying for a certificate in creative writing. my credientials are not that impressive, but hopefully, you’ve read my work and decided that i am sufficiently skilled at my craft. if not, here’s my masterlist, i guess?

anyway, sorry for the excessive yapping. let’s get to the point...

i am now offering one-on-one tutoring services for those interested in learning how to write. i am able to work with all ages and skill levels, so everyone’s welcome! all you need is some basic interest in writing.

so, what can i even do?

i can:

brainstorm ideas with you

help formulate an outline for your work

give guidance on the actual writing process

analyze your work and provide feedback

discuss ways to improve your writing

teach you methods that i employ myself when writing

answer questions regarding writing, ie: plot, characterization, pacing, phrasing, etc

explain certain specifics of the genres i write, ie: how to best write a reader insert, second person pov, nsfw content, etc

and various other things along these lines...

i wanted to say that i tried outlining what a regular lesson would be like, but honestly, it would be completely dependent on the individual and their goals. if you are looking for elaborate feedback on your work, then that’s what we’ll do. if you want help structuring a plot and adding depth to your characters, then i’ll advise you accordingly. if you want to discuss your story ideas with me, then i’m more than happy to yap.

i am able to give lessons over video call, voice call, and even text for those uncomfortable with calls.

and lastly, pricing!

a standard tutoring session will be an hour long, at the rate of 15EUR/session.

however, you can also pre-purchase packages for:

40EUR/3 sessions.

65EUR/5 sessions.

for those interested, please send me a dm here (on tumblr) or add me on discord: bloodblanks (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ and if anyone has any questions, feel free to send in an ask or message me privately.

thank you for reading! ♡

[splosh-crime]

Riordanverse:

Monster Worldbuilding

The Riordanverse has a practically limitless amount of potential and it’s a crying shame that there are so few fics for worldbuilding and viewing the universe at a different angle then we see in the books. I love seeing writers that break from the mold and inspire readers to see things from a different perspective.

The concepts of Monster Sally Jackson, Monster Percy Jackson, Half Monster Percy Jackson, and New Immortal Percy Jackson all fascinate me. If you want to worldbuild but don’t know where to start, put your favorite characters in situations that confront the base concept of you’re working off of and go from there. Tons of opportunity for worldbuilding here.

As an example of lore that can be expanded on for worldbuilding purposes, the monsters in Percy Jackson seem fully sapient and capable of choosing kindness over gluttony/power (Tyson and the Atlantean Cyclopes, Ella and the CHB Harpies, Bob the Titan, Damasen the Giant, Mrs. O’Leary the Hellhound) but we rarely see anyone exploring their perspective or even trying to negotiate with them, let alone finding the boundary that designates “monstrous” empousai vs “mythical” satyrs/fauns beyond their choices and death effect.

Another worldbuilding strategy that has more to do with brainstorming requires asking questions. Would Percy go to Tartarus if he died or is he unable to die? Is he a God, if so; what are his domains? What makes a monster a monster?

Hellhounds are one of the most common monsters but Mrs. O’Leary is a sweetheart (I really don’t understand why there’s no info on how she was tamed tho). Cyclops can either work in Poseidon’s forges or eat children, Iapetus the Titan was evil until he got amnesia and chose for himself while being influenced by Nico, Harpies will kill kids but will also work security at CHB, and Telekhines are explicitly shown manipulating their kids to hate demigods with propaganda.

Clearly monsters have just as much potential for good as humans, so why are they considered monsters but Centaurs, Satyrs, Nymphs, Nereids, Argus, and many misery-based gods aren’t? If it’s about helpfulness then why are Cerberus and Ladon seen as monsters? Is it about looks?

I’ve always thought it was weird that despite Sally’s “death” in The Lightning Thief greatly resembling that of a monster’s (flash of golden light/sand/disintegration), not once did anyone even theorize that she was a monster. Like, I get that it’s not exactly common for gods to have kids with monsters but it does happen, especially with water-based gods. Chrysaor (pirate captain) and Pegasus are famous examples of this, their parents being Medusa and Poseidon. Poseidon had Charybdis (whirlpool), Scylla (6-headed sea monster), and every Cyclops as monster kids, every Siren is a monster kid of Achelous (river god), and Typhon and Echidna were born from gods/primordials too. Sally could’ve been a monster passing as human in the Mist™️ but she wasn’t even suspected because she looks and acts human.

Anyway, if any of you have thoughts, additions, or reactions to anything said here, please don’t hesitate to share in the notes/comments. Almost no one I talk to regularly shares my fandoms or wants to hear my info-dumps so Tumblr’s my enrichment team. All my posts double as invitations to discuss.

[cevansbrat0007]

Case of the Ex: Part I

Summary: Just as you decide to explore your feelings for Ari, an unexpected blast from your past sends you reeling...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Ex-boyfriends, Discussions of Weight, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Brief Discussions of Race, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me brainstorm. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“So do you trust me now, Mr. Carmichael?” You tease as you carefully place several books into your customer’s reusable shopping bag while you wait on the receipt to print. “Because the way I see it, I haven’t steered you wrong yet.”

“Here we go.” The older man grumbles, playfulling rolling his eyes as you punch in the last few numbers to complete the transaction. 

“My recommendation track record speaks for itself.” You can’t help but laugh at the look he gives you. As if you two didn’t have the same conversation at least once a month. “I just want you to give me my props.”

“Arrogance isn’t a good look on you, young lady.” 

“Who said anything about arrogance?” Your eyes go comically wide as you lean into the theatrics by pretending to look around your shop. “Certainly not me. I’m just a small business owner, standing in front of the best retired florist in all of Bell’s Creek, humbly requesting that he finally give me my flippin’ flowers.”  

Mr. Carmichael heaves a weary sigh. “Fine, fine. You were right.” He steps back from the counter to give a dramatic bow. “Jean Hanff Korelitz’s Jacob Bonner was strong enough to rival Stephen King’s own Mort Rainey and Thad Beaumont. Your literary tastes reign superior once again.” 

“And there it is.” You rip the receipt from the printer and drop it into the bag before handing it over so that you can rest your elbows on the counter. “Now was that really that bad? It’s not like I asked for one of your Sapphire Sweetheart bouquets, after all.” 

“That entire moment was so positively excruciating I almost didn’t live through it.” He keeps his tone light as he slings the bag over his shoulder. “Anyway, same time next month?”

“Can’t wait.” You respond with a wink and a wave. “Wouldn’t miss it. And please give Millie my love.”

“Will do!” He calls behind him as he heads out the door.

Once he’s gone you decide to stand up and stretch, raising your arms over your head. You’re not satisfied until you hear the sound of your spine popping. And then you up the ante, twisting your body from side to side before bending down and touching your toes.

You hold the position for a moment, content to let yourself dangle until you hear the chime of the front door, signaling the arrival of another customer. Which was great news for you, especially since business had been kind of slow this morning. 

“Welcome to Baubles & Quills!” You chirp as you quickly right yourself. “How can I he–” The words die on your lips when you get a good look at the person standing just inside the doorway.

“Hiya, Cupcake.” 

It’s a nickname you haven’t heard in years. And it had only ever been used by one man. The same one who had broken your heart and left a wound so deep you’d been almost convinced that it would never heal. 

And yet there he was. Standing right there in your shop. Somehow even more handsome than you remembered.

Mason J. Prescott.

The seconds tick by, turning into minutes as a loaded silence washes over you both. Whatever you’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this. A visit from your ex-boyfriend had not been on today’s bingo card.

Grinning, Mason closes the gap between you. His long, denim clad legs covering the distance in a few easy strides. Once he’s in front of you he removes his Stetson pinchfront and sits it on the counter before taking the opportunity to run his fingers through his thick black locks. 

“Damn if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.” Still grinning, his gray eyes give you a thorough onceover. It’s a blatant, slow moving perusal that lets you know he likes what he sees. “I swear they don’t make girls as pretty as you out in Brickfield. Must be something in the water.”

“Uh…hi.” You stammer as shock continues to course its way through you.

“You lookin’ to catch some flies there, Cupcake?”

Shit. That meant you were staring. Probably with your mouth open. It was an old bad habit that, up until today, you could’ve sworn you had licked. 

“Sorry.” You cough, forcing your brain to reboot.

“No need to be sorry.” While Mason’s easygoing charm used to calm your nerves, today it seemed to be doing the opposite. 

“What brings you..?” You trail off to take a steadying breath. “I didn’t realize you were back in town.” 

What the hell was he doing here? 

“I just flew in last night. Caught a red-eye home from Buffalo, New York..” He decides to explain further after you flash him a quizzical glance. “Dad had me working on a business deal up there. It was a quick trip with an even quicker turnaround.” 

Oh. “Got it.” 

“Yeah.” He chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his five-o’clock shadow. “My, uh, plan had been to fly back out to Brickfield first and then make the drive. But after speaking with my Mama no less than six nerve-racking times in the span of an hour, I figured I’d be better off coming straight here. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel good to be back.” He raps his knuckles on the wood.  

“I’m sure they’re all very happy you’re home.” You weren’t really sure what else to say to that, so you kept it simple. Although it still didn’t explain his reason for showing up at what was arguably the equivalent of your doorstep.  

“Maybe. Some more than others, I suppose.” His voice drops an octave as he pins you with a knowing look. “Any chance you might be one of those people?”

Your teeth begin to gnaw at your bottom lip as your palms go damp with sweat. Why on earth would he care or not about whether you were happy to see him or not? Especially since you hadn’t spoken in–

“I’ve thought of you damn near every day over the last five years.” 

“Mace…” His former nickname comes on the heels of a weary sigh. 

“I’m serious, sweets.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.” 

You did not want to do this today. It wasn’t fair or right of him to think he could just pick up and waltz back into your life as if he expected your feelings for him to be the same. 

Things had changed since then. You had changed. Everything was different now, starting and ending with you.

“I’ve been thinking…” Now it’s his turn to sigh as he squares his shoulders. “Maybe we made a mistake.”

“Ha!” You let out an unladylike snort, your hand flying to your mouth in an attempt to catch it. “I don’t believe for a second that I’m the reason your Mama pressed you to hussle your ass back to our quaint little town.”

“I came back because I needed to deal with a family matter. But I was thinking about staying because the one that got away also happens to own a shop that’s just down the road from my parent’s ranch.” His sobering admission is enough to send you reeling all over again.     

Mason then places his hand atop yours, allowing the slightly roughened pad of his thumb to stroke along the ridge of your knuckles.

“I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning.” You give him your best haughty southern belle impression. “But if you’d like, I can point you in the direction of our Self-Help books. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of helpful literature on learning from your past mistakes. Might I recommend John Purkiss’ bestseller, The Power of Letting Go? I hear it’s a real page turner.”

Your newfound snippiness has your ex-boyfriend rocking back on his heels. He even appears a little stunned. Good. 

You weren’t the same meek young woman he’d left behind all those years ago. Something that Mason James Prescott would do well to remember.

“Sheesh, Cupcake.” Your former flame presses a hand over his heart, feigning as if you’d wounded him. “You might’ve shed a few extra pounds when I wasn’t looking, but I see you've also gained a little sass too.”

You fold your arms over your chest as you take a moment to process what feels very much like a backhanded compliment. God’s gift to Bell’s Creek didn’t know it yet, but you were getting dangerously close to kicking his pert ass out of your shop.   

As if sensing that he’s made an error, he quickly clears his throat. “All I’m saying is that I recognize that I’m dealing with a new and improved you.” He moves to reach for you again before apparently thinking better of it. 

“But forgive me if I have a hard time thinking of you as anything but the doe-eyed freshman who wrote poetry behind the bleachers. That is, when she wasn’t busy taking home top prize at the state fair’s pie baking contest year after year.” Mason offers you his own award winning smile for good measure, highlighting the dimple on his left cheek. 

Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot for your comfort. You didn’t like feeling this unsettled. These days the only man who was allowed to get under your skin was your handsome, overbearing bounty hunter. 

It was a right that he’d earned, whether you liked it or not. And there were honestly times when you damn well didn’t. But you’d also be lying if you said that you weren’t learning to live with it.     

“I could sure go for a slice of your famous brambleberry pie right about now.” Mason keeps his deep voice low and even as he takes a tentative step around the side of your cash register, which is the only thing currently separating the two of you. “But I’d be willing to settle for some cherry pie and a scoop of homemade vanilla bean ice cream over at Holtman’s Diner on West 5th if you’d be open to join me.”

“So I can watch you stuff your face with pie while I nibble on a depressing fruit salad from a can like a sad little rabbit?” You scoff. “Pass.” 

Mason huffs out an annoyed breath, his brows drawing together. “You were the one who always complained about shit going to your hips. Meanwhile, I was just doing my part to be supportive. Isn’t that what any good man is supposed to do for his woman?” 

Apparently you weren’t the only one experiencing a few ruffled feathers here. Fantastic.

“I’m not sure it’s allowed to fall under the category of being supportive –” you respond, complete with appropriate air quotes “– if you’re also the one constantly pointing it out.” 

“We were kids, baby!” His hands fly to his waist so that he’s now standing akimbo. “Just a couple of stupid kids worried about stupid shit like football practice and prom pictures. I felt like I was walking around with the world on my shoulders back then. It wasn’t as easy for me as everybody liked to think.” He shifts his weight, resting his hip against the cashwrap. “Nobody understood the pressures of growing up as a Prescott. Nobody even tried…” 

‘Oh yeah?’ Your internal voice all but screams. ‘Try being one of only five black kids in your entire goddamned graduating class. But do you see me crying? Nope.’ 

At any rate, you didn’t sign up for this month’s Prescott Pity Party. So you were about to politely request that he miss you with that bullshit.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to carry so much alone, Mace. I really am.” You look down at your feet as you try to drum up a way to usher him out the door without touching him. But the next thing you know, he’s suddenly standing directly in front of you. 

“Except for you.” He reaches out to clutch at your biceps, his big hands smoothing up and down your bare arms. “You saw past the spoiled little rich kid act when no one else did. And I didn’t appreciate you like I should have.” 

Your heart speeds up as you take notice of the way his eyes darken. He’s so close that you can see the light smattering of freckles dotting the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. If memory served, he’d broken it during a heated football game.

One where he claimed an opposing player made several crude comments about your body and choice of skirt. At the time you’d considered him a hero. But now…

Now you saw him for what he was. Another run-of-the-mill Prescott pretty boy. All style and no substance. That was the crux of it.  

Right?      

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out weaker than you’d like, but at least it doesn’t waver.

“Because I want you to have dinner with me tonight. For old times’ sake.” His determined gaze bores into your own as all of the oxygen slowly dissipates from the room. “Please, Cupcake?”

Just then, you hear the chiming of the door, signaling the arrival of yet another customer. Spell broken, you take a fortifying step back – needing to put some distance between you and the town’s golden boy.

“Am I interrupting something?” The sound of a familiar voice has your already volatile emotions spiraling in the complete opposite direction as a sense of relief blooms in your chest. 

Saved by the damn bell. Thank the Lord.

“Yeah.” Mason snaps at the same time you throw out a swift “nope”. 

“Bird?” 

Of course your gruff bounty hunter would defer to you on this one – for which you were grateful. You turn your attention to him, not missing the tick in his chiseled jaw. 

Now that you saw them together, Ari appeared to have a good inch in height on your former lover. Aside from that, their builds were pretty similar. Instead it was the glaring difference in their personalities that managed to separate one from the other. 

“It’s fine, Ari.”

“Bird?” Mason’s lip curls in an almost sneer as his hands drop to his sides. “Is that what you go by now? It’s…cute.” He tacks on the last part when you respond with a simple shrug. 

If you were being honest, you didn’t much care how he felt or not. You just wanted him gone so that you could actually breathe again.

“Ari, huh?” He turns to give your man his full attention as realization finally dawns. “You must be that rent-a-cop my father was telling me about. Said you blew into town looking for Martin Westbrook’s sorry ass.” 

“Not quite, pal. But you’re almost there.” Ari spares a bored glance in the direction of his would-be rival. But he doesn’t say anything. You knew without him telling you that he was busy assessing the situation. It was something he had a habit of doing anywhere he went.

Especially when found himself face-to-face with a dick like Mason Prescott.

“Well, you won’t find him here, buddy.” Your ex gives him a dismissive nod. “So why don’t you see yourself out? The lady and I were just in the middle of catching up before you took it upon yourself to interrupt.” 

An uncomfortable silence ensues as both men stare each other down, each refusing to blink. The tension grows thicker with each passing moment. And it remains that way until you move to step between them. 

“Mace is an old friend who stopped by for a chat.” You tell Ari, jamming your nervous hands in your pockets. “But we were just wrapping up so I could get back to doing inventory.”

It was a lie. And you recognized that Ari was someone who deserved a better, more in-depth explanation than the basic one that you just gave him. But for now it would simply have to do. At least until you got your bearings.          

“But what about that pie?” Mason pouts, obviously upset by the prospect of you kicking him out. “Don’t leave me to eat alone, Cupcake.”

“Cupcake? Wow.” Ari scoffs under his breath, not bothering to his disapproval.

“Old friend, old nickname.” You hiss, somehow feeling even more self-conscious than you already did. “Now that we’ve established all that, I think it’s best if you two peaches get a move-on. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.”

Needing some space, you attempt to shoo them out the door. But unfortunately, you might as well have better luck trying to herd a couple of cats. Lucky you.

“What about lunch?” Your man growls. Apparently he didn’t take too kindly to being thrown out either.

“Too busy. Gotta cancel. Sorry you came out all this way, but these books aren’t gonna stock themselves so…” You throw your arms in the air. “It is what it is.” 

Instead of accepting his dismissal, Ari takes a step towards you. He doesn’t stop until he’s in front of you, his body eclipsing your smaller frame and  effectively blocking you from Mason’s view.

“Did you eat today, baby?” He asks as one big hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, giving you an affectionate squeeze. Some of the stiffness in his shoulders eases when you give him a little nod. “Good. What’d you have?”

“A piece of toast and a hard boiled egg.” 

“Alright.” Warmth pools in your belly when your sweet bounty hunter hands over a plastic bag filled with what feels suspiciously like a sandwich and chips. “It’s a grilled chicken caesar wrap. Best they had since you said you don’t like that chipotle spread. Also got you some sea salt and vinegar chips, some cuke and onion salad, and a cookie.”

Christ. This man was simply too good for you. Moments like these only served to remind you that you truly didn’t deserve him.

“Thank you.” You murmur once you finally manage to swallow the lump forming in your throat. 

“I’m gonna need you to eat every last bite for me.” He tells you, his intoxicating blue eyes dropping to your lips. “So that I can fully enjoy taking a bite out of you later.” Thankfully, he's thoughtful enough to whisper the last bit. Making it clear that it was for your ears only.

“Okay, Ari.” 

Nodding, he shifts his attention back to an increasingly annoyed Mason. But while there’s no way he could’ve missed the moment you shared with Ari just now, he chooses to stew in silence. Which is absolutely fine by you. 

“Call me when you lock up.” You know that Ari’s words are meant for you even though his focus remains entirely on the other man taking up space in your tiny lobby. 

“I’ll see you around, Cupcake.” Mason smiles, but this time you notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I can’t wait to find out if you’re still as sweet as I remember.” He finishes with a knowing wink.

With that, he turns and strides out of the shop, not even bothering to hold the door for Ari. But your man doesn’t seem to mind. Instead he makes a show of shouldering through it with minimal effort. 

As soon as it swings shut you hit the lock and flip the sign. And then you duck in the corner, watching as the two men exchange what you can only assume to be a few choice words right there in your parking lot. 

And while you can’t make out what they’re saying, you’re convinced that it’s anything but friendly – what with them being practically nose to nose. 

You stay in your spot until Ari and Mason finish their conversation. And it’s only once they’ve climbed in their respective cars and driven away that you finally slink off to the back room to lick your wounds and figure out your next move. 

Fuck! You had the sinking feeling that things were about to get complicated fast. Opening the fridge, you toss your lunch inside before slamming it shut so that you can snag a homemade strawberry and cream popsicle from the freezer. 

As you sit down, you feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. You fish it out, surprised to see that you’ve got a text from Ari that reads:

“Mace seems like a real stand-up guy.”

“No shit, Beast.” Rolling your eyes, you place the device facedown on a nearby table before nibbling on your sweet and creamy treat. “Tell me something I don’t know.” 

END

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[thetriumphantpanda]

one kiss is all it takes | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Four

Chapter Summary | All of the tension between you & Javi comes to a head when you're gathered at the Peña ranch to celebrate Chucho's birthday.

Chapter Warnings | Consumption of food & alcohol, some angst, heavy on the flirting, discussion of drugs & the drug trade but nothing else.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note |  Well. I am having far too much fun with these guys. I hope you guys are still enjoying this. Just wanted to give a huge shoutout to @undercoverpena for helping me brainstorm this chapter and figure it out when I was struggling and for just being my biggest hype woman. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

It’s Chucho’s birthday and it feels like the entirety of Laredo has descended on the Peña ranch. He’s currently sitting on one of the chairs that’s been set out on the back porch, beer in hand, talking to some of his friends from the ranch association. You’ve already been over, wished him a happy birthday with a kiss on the cheek, and pressed a small gift bag into his hand from the rest of the family. The bag is sitting between his feet, and you know he’ll take it in with him later to open on his own. Never one for a fuss, was Chucho. 

Other townsfolk are walking around, or standing in smaller groups, drinking or eating from the spread of food everyone had contributed to. You’re currently sat with your mom, who is talking to some of the women she works with. It’s dull conversation, but you try your best to look at least semi-interested when a question is thrown your way. You’re focused on something else though. Your eyes have been searching through the sea of people for one person, and one person only. Javi. And he’s nowhere to be seen. You bring the bottle of beer you’ve been drinking to your lips, tip it up, but find it empty. 

“I’m just going to get another drink.” You mumble to excuse yourself from the group around you. 

They all smile at you but quickly return to their conversations once you start stepping away. The relief from the cool interior of the house is welcome, as you open the fridge and root through it for another drink. You close the fridge door gently, plucking the magnetic bottle opener off the front when you hear muffled voices coming from down the hall. 

“You know,” You can just make out, so you take gentle steps to the edge of the kitchen to hear better, “If you were looking for something else, we could always use you back on the force.” It’s your dad, and you bet you know exactly who he’s talking to. 

“Go back to shining lights into teenagers’ cars whilst they’re making out and busting petty criminals?” That’s definitely Javi, “That’s not really my scene anymore.” 

You can hear your dad sigh a little, “It’s not really like that anymore,” He offers, “You must know by now we’ve got some kind of drug epidemic here, we can’t seem to crack it, I bet you could blow this whole thing wide open for us.” 

Javi scoffs, you press yourself further into the wall, knowing you should walk away, this isn’t your conversation to hear, “Even more reason for me to stay away,” He answers, “I couldn’t crack it down there, and if it’s anything like that here, it’s going to go far deeper than you could ever imagine.” 

Your dad sighs again, louder this time, because he’s clearly fighting a losing battle, “Well, the offer is there, think about, huh?” 

All Javi does is grunt in response, which you think is akin to something like ‘thanks, but no thanks’, then you hear footsteps coming down the hallway. You don’t move quickly enough to dart back through the doors but do manage to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible at the kitchen island as your dad rounds the corner. 

“I didn’t know you were in here.” He speaks, fishing his own new drink out of the fridge.

“Just came to get another drink,” You smile, trying to make your voice loud enough that Javi can hear that you’re inside too, “It’s pretty hot out there.” 

Your dad clinks his bottle with yours as he moves to head back outside, “Cool off, but don’t hide away in here, okay?” 

You nod and smile as he heads back outside, but you don’t make a move to follow him. After last week, when Javi pressed his lips to your cheek, you haven’t been able to think of much else. Surely, if he’d come all the way to fetch you, brought you food and kissed your cheek, that must mean something? You’d felt absolutely crazy trying to explain it to Liv, recounting your conversation, trying to get her advice on what it meant. She’d been entirely unhelpful, telling you that you were reading too much into it, but she had told you Victor was nice, so you weren’t in the habit of trusting her at the moment. 

You stand at the kitchen island for a while, praying that he would come to you, talk to you, even just say hello, anything would do, but he doesn’t. He stays wherever he is, doing whatever he’s doing, leaving you standing there like someone had stood you up. You sigh, pick up your beer and head back outside. 

It’s probably an hour later, you’re back sitting with your mom and her friends, when he emerges from the house, his own drink in hand. He makes eye contact with you, but when you smile at him, he doesn’t return it, just turns and walks over to the first group of people he can find, almost completely ignoring your presence. It hurts, is what you think, makes your heart sink a little. 

You see him a few times over the next couple of hours as people start slowly heading off. It’s still warm outside, but the sun is starting to set, painting the ranch in a soft orange glow. Your mom and dad left about an hour ago, leaving you where you there to help tidy up. The plan had been for all of you to stay, but your mom had indulged in one too many glasses of wine and needed to nap. 

The crowd had thinned out significantly now, so you think it’s a good a time as any to try and tidy up the porch a bit. There’s a rubbish bag hanging from the railing, there’s a few actually, that you think Javi must have set out in order to keep mess to a minimum, so you start picking up the empty bottles and used paper plates, stuffing them in until it’s full. You move some of the furniture around, back to how you know Chucho likes it. 

“You don’t have to help with this.” 

You turn around, and for the first time Javi is looking at you, talking to you, but still won’t quite meet your eyes, choosing to busy himself with gathering the trash from the other side of the porch. 

“I don’t mind,” You shrug, walking over to help him out a little, picking up some more paper plates to shove into the bag, “Doesn’t seem right to leave you to tidy the place on your own after allowing half the town to come over.” 

He doesn’t really respond after that, silently shuffles around, refusing to meet your eyes. It drives you wild, because there’s no way you’d made up the signals he’d been giving in the car. No-one kisses your cheek if they don’t want you. 

Once the porch is clear of clutter, Javi makes a beeline for the trash bag that’s full, leaning down to pick it up. You follow his movements, reaching down to circle his wrist with your hand, trying to be gentle with him. You’re not expecting him to snatch his arm away from you like you’d just branded him with a hot poker. He even steps back away from you, turning his back slightly, although you can see one of his hands come to his mouth, fingers running over his facial hair and down his chin, other hand on his hip. You think you hear him mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘don’t’. 

You stand there, dumbfounded if anything. Why is he being so different with you? Hot, angry tears are forming across your waterline, because you’re embarrassed, embarrassed that you’d played into him leading you on. To try and hide the fact you’re about to cry, you turn on your heel, stomping, albeit quite dramatically, around the side of the porch when you feel him grab your wrist, pulling you around so you’re facing him. Nowhere to hide now, you think, giving him your face, letting him see the tears he’s caused. 

“What?” You spit, tearing your hand out of his grip, much like he’d done to you just moments before. 

“Just… wait.” He says hands up in defense. 

So you do, you stand there and wait, shifting your weight from foot to foot, watching as he leans back more of his weight on his back leg, hand rest on the top of his jeans, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of what to say. 

“You know what?” You scoff, “I’m so fucking embarrassed, Javi,” You can feel your bottom lip start to wobble, more frustrated tears threatening to fall, “I thought-” You start, running a hand over your cheek to wipe away the tears that are forming, “I thought I was picking up on these signals between us,” You motion your hand between the two of you, “Thought maybe you felt the same way about me, I mean, who kisses someone’s cheek and tells them there’s nothing wrong with them if they don’t mean it, right?” You can hear yourself, sniffling through the tears, voice getting quicker and higher in pitch as he just… stands there, “God,” You chuckle, “I really thought I’d stop embarrassing myself at some point, but clearly fucking not.” 

He's still not saying anything, and you’re sick to death of making yourself feel and look like a fool in front of him, so you turn on your heel again, walking away, when yet again his hand circles your wrist and pulls you back to him, but this time, you don’t stop by just turning around to him, he’s tugging at you, pulling you closer, and then all of a sudden his lips are on yours. It’s quick, almost over before you can even register what’s happened, but there was no mistaking the feel of his lips pressed to yours. The tickle of the hair on his upper lip against the skin under your nose. 

When he pulls away, you’re dumbfounded, mouth open in shock, “You kissed me.” Is all you can say, voice high with shock. 

“I did.” 

“Then what the fuck was all that back there?” You ask, incredulous and confused, head spinning with what’s going on. 

All he does is shrug, seemingly unable to explain himself, which makes you more annoyed. Is he fucking with you? All you wish he would do is tell you what the fuck is going on in his brain, what he’s thinking, why he’s behaving in this way. 

“Tell me,” You demand, “Tell me, or I’m going to get in my car and leave.” 

And he’s standing there, and you think you can see the cogs working behind his eyes. His mouth is doing that thing again where it opens and closes without him saying anything. He brings a hand up to brush over his brow, but he still doesn’t say anything. You’d had enough. If he didn’t have the decency to be frank with you, like you’d been with him, then you guess you had your answer. 

For the third time that evening, you turn around and start walking, heading for the steps at the front of the house. He doesn’t try and grab your wrist this time, doesn’t try and touch you, but you can hear his footsteps behind you. You can see your car in front of you, you reach into the pocket of your shorts, fingers hitting the keys when you finally hear his voice. 

“I’m trying to be good, alright?” He calls out to you, “Better,” he offers then, “I’m trying to be better and I just…. Fuck, I hate this.” 

And really that’s all you needed. You needed him to try. To try and explain his behaviour, to tell you why he was giving you these mixed signals. So you turn, walk the few steps back towards him, take his face in your hands and plant a kiss right on his lips. 

It’s like it breaks the dam that the two of you had been trying to hold back, because his hands are on your back, one resting just above the waistband of your shorts, the other fisting at the material between your shoulder blades as he really kisses you this time. Your hands drop to the collar of his shirt, pulling him in closer as you open your mouth against his, let his tongue finally touch yours, pressing your body as close to his as you can possibly get it. You can feel the tension of your shirt being pulled from behind. It’s like he has to fist the material because he wants to touch you, wants to put his hands on your skin under the material, but knows he can’t. 

When you pull away, both breathless, he leans down, rests his forehead to yours, eyes closed. 

“I don’t want you to be good, Javi,” You whisper, “I want you to want me.” 

He opens his eyes then, big chocolate orbs that are pleading with you, “I do,” He answers honestly, “I want you so much, querida, and that’s the problem.” 

“I know.” You try and soothe, but really, it’s all lost now isn’t it, there’s no going back from here. 

Almost like you both finally realise you’re in the open air at the same time, you both step away from each other. Your hands coming to pull your shirt back into position, Javi doing the same with the collar of his shirt. You run your thumb over your bottom lip where you can feel the wetness from the kiss, wiping it away. 

“I should go,” You say softly, motioning your head to the car, and he doesn’t argue, because he knows you should too, because if you stay here there’s only one thing that can happen, “See you around.” 

Like it’s now his signature move, his hand circles your wrist, turning you back to him, “Call me?” He asks, “Call me tonight?” 

You smile, “Okay, I’ll speak to you later.” 

You weren’t really sure how long you were supposed to wait to call him. You got in and your mom was already in bed out for count, your dad sat in front of the TV, cold beer in hand, watching some kind of sports. 

“You help Javi clean up?” He asks as you throw your keys in the dish on the side table. 

You try not to bite at your lip, try not to focus on the heat rising across your cheek, “I did,” You confirm, walking over to the fridge to pick out your own drink, “Most people had already thrown their stuff away, so it didn’t take long.” 

You sit with him for a while, sipping slowly on the drink, trying to quell the memories of his lips on yours, the way he had tasted and the way his hand had fisted so tightly at the back of your shirt. It was everything you’d wanted it to be, all those years of wondering what it would be like, and now you knew, and all you wanted was to know what else he could do, how else he could make you feel. 

Once your drink is done, you give your dad a chaste kiss on the cheek, bid him goodnight, and spend the next hour pacing, trying to concentrate on reading, before you give up. You reach into your bag and pull out the card. Run your fingers over the name embossed there. You pick up the receiver on your nightstand, punch the number in and press call. 

This time, he answers on the first ring, like he’s been sitting around waiting for you to call, just as much as you have. 

“Hello.” You speak timidly, leaning back onto the pillows of your bed, switching the handset to the other ear so you’ll be able to hear anyone wandering around outside. 

“Evening, hermosa.” He croons back to you, but doesn’t offer anything else. 

You sit there for a moment, listening to him breath down the phone, reveling in the fact that he’s doing the same, until it gets to be a little awkward. You start speaking right at the same time as he does, which makes you both pause to let the other carry on, but it only works to make you both laugh. 

“You go first.” He prompts. 

You take a deep breath, “I’m sorry,” You muse, “For how I was earlier.”

“You don’t need to say sorry,” He replies softly, “I’m sorry for being shit at talking about things.” 

There’s another pause, but it’s more comfortable this time, “So…” You trail off, “You kissed me.” It’s whispered, almost like it’s some terribly sordid secret, which you suppose it is really. 

“I did,” He confirms, and you’d like to think he’s smiling on the other end of the phone, “Wanted to do more than just kiss you.” He admits at the end. 

“Oh,” It comes out a little like a gasp, “Why didn’t you?” 

“I told you,” Javi replies with a little sigh, “I’m trying to be good, trying to be a gentleman.” 

“What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” You offer. 

“What do you want me to be?” 

You giggle a little, “You sound like I’m paying you to say these things to me,” You hear him scoff at the other end, “I just want to know what you wanted to do to me that didn’t involve kissing me.” 

“Oh, hermosa,” You hear him make a ‘tsk’ sound through the receiver, “I would have kissed you, and then some,” You can hear him shifting around on the other end, “Wanted to put my hands all over you, make you feel good.” 

You bite your bottom lip a little, wanting nothing more than to let your hand wander below the waistband of your shorts, but there’s that little bubble of anxiety that always seems to make itself known to you when you get yourself into conversations like this, your lack of experience, lack of knowledge really, in how any of this is meant to work. 

“I wanted you to do that too,” You admit, “But…” You trail off, not really wanting to admit this to him right now. 

“But what, hermosa?” He coaxes. 

“I’m just-” You sigh, “I don’t have a lot of experience in this stuff, you’ll have to be patient with me.” 

You don’t know what you expect him to say, but it certainly isn’t what he says, “You want me to teach you, huh?” He asks, “Show you what you’ve been missing with those college boys?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, because he’s so right. You want to know what it’s like for someone else to take you apart. You want to know what it’s like when someone sinks into you and really cares about how you feel. You want to know what it’s like to feel someone else’s mouth on you. You want to know what it’s like to curl into someone’s side once all is said and done and fall asleep with someone’s arm wrapped around you, and you want all that with him. 

“I do.” You reply simply. 

“Then say no more,” There’s another silence, “I should let you go,” He says, “But I’ll see you soon, okay?” You hum in response, “And, um, don’t worry okay?” You’re about to ask about what, but you think you know what he’s getting at, “Just… probably best we don’t say anything to anyone, but don’t worry about it, alright?” 

“Okay,” Is your response, because what else is there to really say, “Goodnight Javi.” 

“Goodnight, querida,” He says back, “Sweet dreams.” 

[invega-sustenna]

Okay, here's the story from A-Z. You wanna get some beads, you better listen carefully.

I'm going to make as many cheap, simple bracelets as I possibly can out of regular acrylic letter beads and glass pearl beads.

@copper-sands , needs your help, and here's how I'm going to make it easy for you to do so c:

2 for $5 for just basic black letters on white and only glass pearl beads

2 for $6 for different acrylic letter beads and only glass pearl beads

2 for $8-10 letter beads of your choice with real stone ACCENTS, but mainly glass pearl beads (price varies depending on stone's cost)

2 for $18-$20 letter beads of your choice, mainly stone with glass pearl accents (again, price varies due to cost of stone)

Shipping will be $5.50-$8.50 depending on how much you order and the weight of materials used. (Mail is expensive af)

Shipping goes to me, the rest goes to Copper.

US ONLY

I will only be using 6-6.5mm beads. Any song title, 2-3 word lyrics, or member, but as previously stated, these patterns will be SIMPLE. Tell me the color scheme you desire, and we'll work from there c:

Steps

1) Send me a DM. No need to send me an ask, just hit me up with what you're thinking. Whether you have a planned song/lyric/member/color scheme or if you want to brainstorm. HIT ME.

2) Once all of step 1 is taken care of, I make the bracelets. Pattern is up to me. Stones used is up to me. However, I'll take a picture of each bracelet, and if you don't like it, we fix it c: After the bracelets are made, you will send your donation to Copper's ko-fi:

3) i am disabled and only have access to the post office on Saturdays. I may be able to get someone to take it for me during the week, but that's not a guarantee. After I get it shipped, I will DM you your tracking number and exact shipping price. That's when you'll pay me for cost of shipping.

4) I may be open to adding to bracelets if you're willing to add to Copper's fundraiser. Totally willing to discuss spacers, both rhinestone or metal, will only charge an extra $1-$2 more depending on how many of what kind.

Please help.