Jeyda’s Fingers Twitched, But He Didn’t Move To Take The Mail Right Away. His Eyes, Dark And Unreadable,

amoonlitmemory​:

Closed starter for @littledaydreamers​

“I’m sorry–” Niamh glanced down at the parchement unsure of what she was supposed to be looking at. “Are you sure this is meant for me? I– I don’t know what this is.” Having been self taught, she would never admit that when it came to reading her knowledge was only that of which she appeared familiar with. Yes, she could read words but that didn’t always mean she had a clear understanding of what things meant.

Tristan nodded affirmatively, a subtle gesture accompanied by a satisfying "Yep," the soft sound of the "p" popping. "Well," he continued, his voice filled with a hint of curiosity, "that's what it seems to be—a letter. If you'd like, I could read it aloud for you. The lighting in this room leaves much to be desired, but fortunately, I possess exceptional vision." With a compassionate gaze, he observed the writing before him, sensing the air of perplexity surrounding it. While illiteracy wasn't uncommon among the inhabitants of Nassau, Tristan understood the reluctance of many to acknowledge this fact openly.

Jeyda’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile—more like amusement laced with warning. He took in the fire in Rowan’s eyes, the rigid set of her shoulders. Defiance suited her. A shame it wouldn’t serve her well.

"You wound me, Rowan," he murmured, voice smooth, unbothered. He plucked the champagne flute from her hand, deliberately brushing his fingers against hers, and took a slow sip before handing it back. "I’d at least hoped for a 'darling' before the insults began."

But his amusement didn’t reach his eyes. Beneath the cold exterior was something else—something bitter, something resentful. He glanced around the ballroom, at the watching eyes, at the silent puppeteers who had sealed their fates. His father’s presence lingered like a ghost, unseen but suffocating.

Then, just for show—because they were always performing—he took her hand and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to her knuckles. His lips barely grazed her skin, but the gesture was enough to earn approving nods from the men who had dictated their futures.

When he looked at her again, his steel-grey eyes were unreadable. "Smile, Rowan," he said, his voice quiet, almost taunting. "The audience is watching."

Closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this

The champagne flute felt fragile in Rowan's grip, threatening to shatter under the pressure of her clenched hand. The forced smiles, the platitudes about unity, the goddamn wedding cake – it was all a grotesque charade. She caught her father's eye across the crowded ballroom. Sal Price, a man who thrived on fear and intimidation, gave her a curt nod, a silent reminder of what was at stake. Her life, her freedom, her family's future, and more importantly the life of her brothers. Of course she'd never tell Brax the real reason why she'd agreed to follow along with their father's orders, the whole point of this was to avoid the blood shed.

She took a large gulp of champagne, the bubbles doing little to soothe the burning resentment in her throat. Tonight, she was a pawn. A sacrifice on the altar of peace. Peace bought with her misery. A shadow fell across her.

She lifted her head and met the cold, steel-gray eyes of Jeyda Arslan, her soon-to-be husband, her captor. "Arslan," she spat, the word dripping with venom. "Or should I call you husband? The thought makes me want to vomit."

Closed starter || @butlerbarrow He dreams of being back in that trench. He dreams of all the bodies of his comrades. He dreams of their hands grabbing at him. Dozens of them were gangly, gaunt, and pale, with an air of death. They pull at him, dragging him down into the mud until he can't breathe. His own hands reach for the surface, clawing at the phantom fingers grasping his body. Everything is cold, black, and silent except for the muffled, anguished screams. Robbie thrashed in the bed.

His eyes snapped open, a strangled cry escaping his lips. He sat bolt upright, gasping for breath, his chest heaving with the terror of the dream. For a moment, the darkness of the room seemed to mirror the abyss of the trench, the silence punctuated only by the echo of his own ragged breathing.

Robbie was back in the convalescent home, the sterile white walls a stark contrast to the dark, muddy grave that haunted his dreams. The bandages on his shoulder and back felt like a second skin, a constant reminder of the hell he'd escaped. His head throbbed a dull ache that echoed the head injury he'd suffered. He could still see the faces of his comrades, their screams swallowed by the deafening roar of the explosion. The smell of cordite and burning flesh clung to him, a phantom stench that wouldn't leave.

a fucked up modern day marriage plot where a rival mob boss marries his daughter, muse a, off to muse b to calm the tension between the families. at first they hate each other, but once forced to live together, they start warming up to each other, too stubborn to let it show. then one night he comes back from an important deal gone wrong, his face is fucked up and he’s feverish and she takes care of him all night and etc etc etc…i need it?

Kai let out a dry chuckle, leaning against the counter with ink-stained fingers drumming lazily against the surface. "Amusing?" he echoed, voice laced with that slow, detached drawl. "Nah. Just ironic." His smirk didn’t falter, if anything, it deepened. She was every bit the type that would turn her nose up at guys like him in broad daylight but find themselves in places like this, looking for something real when the walls of their perfect little lives started closing in.

He exhaled through his nose, crossing inked arms over his chest. "So, princess, what brings you to the dark side? Or did you just get lost on the way to a champagne brunch?"

pia was very much a cliche, down to a tee. head cheerleader, dated a jock, prom queen. her dad was in finance and was one of the richest men in the state which came with some baggage she will admit. for a long time she really enjoyed the endless perks that life gave her, but until recently she had tried to break apart from her father's name to shine on her own. not that she did much on a day to day basis being an heiress to a mass fortune and owning everything a person could dream of. she modelled and did various other campaigns especially for social media. she was the polar opposite of the man standing infront of her and how she wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face already. "something amusing, bad boy?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow as she took a moment to drink in his appearance. @littledaydreamers

"And yet here you are still here talking to me," Aiden replied cockily, a smirk tugging at his lips.

.  🕸️ㅤ♡   ˖⠀❛⠀⠀to m &. f   ,

                         w/ jewel   .

                             ‘       i thought i could love anyone   ,                 but you’re          .   .   .     ’                       a cruel   ,                 cold-hearted person   ,                 a mean jerk   ,                 a bully   .                 &. yet   ,                 there was that attraction   ,                 that pull towards them       —       it was intense   ,                 almost impossible to resist   .                 they were the kind of person that made her heart go pitter pat   ;                 pitter pat   ,                 even as jewel hated them for taking advantage of her   .                 it was love / hate   ,                 but the hate won out in the end   .       ‘       you’re a JERK   ,                 but a HOT JERK   ,                 i’ll give you that   .       ’

Ruby felt her stomach flip when his message came through, her fingers curling around her phone as the words sank in. She hadn’t expected him to push quite this far. Chewing on her lip she questioned how to proceed.

text: talk about trying your luck... what will I get in return?

The brunette sat up, and crossed her legs on her lap as she began to take the plaits out of her hair. She still couldn't quite believe the way their conversation was going. They'd been been friends for a while now, he was easy to get on with and even easier on the eye but she'd never once thought he would have found her attractive yet tonight had proved otherwise. He knew her dating history and the type of guys she wasted her time with, she couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind -- was he into this or was it just a little bit of fun?

text: i mean technically you are the guy that I'm texting-- the other guy left me on read🙄

he knew there was every chance that when he text her that last message she could shoot him down, yet he decided to toss his hat in the ring so to speak. he wasn't tied down to anyone, though there were plenty of rumours about him getting back with his ex but he had no interest in persuing that further. they'd broken up for a reason. he felt like he'd wasted a year of his life to be with someone who made him look like a fool and yet was constantly trying to push her way back into the picture. he wouldn't say he felt nothing, it was quite hard actually first love and all but he wasn't going back there. instead he was dancing on this fine line with ruby, where she had the opportunity to shoot him down.. and yet she didn't, which he found interesting.

"fuckkkk." he groaned at her reply, only imagining what that could possibly look like.

text: lace as well.. god you're killing me.

text: sneak peek?

he leant up a fraction propping himself between the pillows and his bed post and got himself more comfortable as this conversation continued to unfold.

text: if i was that guy you were texting, i wouldn't be able to contain myself knowing that's what you had on underneath that easy accessible dress of yours.

Rory grinned, the kind of easy, lopsided smile that made his fans' knees feel unsteady. "Ember," he repeated like he was trying it out, rolling it over his tongue. "That’s a class name."

She still looked like she might either faint or bolt, and he found himself chuckling, not unkindly—just amused, endeared.

"Big fan, yeah?" he said teasingly, tilting his head slightly. "You sure? ‘Cause right now, you look like you’d rather be anywhere else than here."

He’d actually noticed her. Now he was looking at her. Ember felt the blood rush to her cheeks, warmth blossoming in her chest. Don't be ridiculous, Ember. He probably just thinks you're a weirdo staring at him.

She tried to speak, to conjure up the witty, intelligent greeting she’d practiced a thousand times in the mirror. Instead, a pathetic squeak escaped her lips. Ember cringed inwardly. Smooth, Ember. Real smooth.

Ember finally found her voice, though it was still shaky. "I...I just...I'm Ember. Big fan." The admission felt ridiculously inadequate, a laughable understatement of the devotion that consumed so much of her free time. She wanted to say more, anything to actually start a conversation but she was terrified of saying something even more stupid.

Zach sighs, glancing at her with a flicker of something almost like... patience? Almost. He leans forward slightly, his expression flat but serious. "Alright, fine. I’ll give you one shot, just this once," he says, his tone a little more neutral than usual. "If you wanna talk, I won’t laugh, and I won’t use it against you. But you gotta know, it’s a one-time deal. After this conversation, I'm going back to not giving a hoot about your issues or problems. Deal?" He raises an eyebrow, challenging her to either take it or leave it.

there was something she didn't trust about the other offering her space to complain so she glares to him instead. his reaction only shows that he has no general interest in what she has to say. rolling her eyes she shakes her head. "of all people - i am not about to complain to you and tell you my problems. you'll just laugh or use it agaisnt me." she points out to him pulling her legs up to her chest letting herself go silent.

amoonlitmemory​:

Closed starter for @littledaydreamers

“Honey I’m hoooome!” She called out loudly as she barged through her twin’s front door. “Now where is my beautiful neice? It’s okay baby, Auntie Edie has come to save you.” 

Bethany sat slumped over the dining room table as Lottie played with her toys on the floor. She couldn’t even find the energy to lift her head and greet her sister. Instead she gave an undignified grunt, a long deep sigh falling from her lips. “You can have her. She’s been a nightmare today.”