Latest Posts by littledaydreamers - Page 3

Her hands shook as she held the phone, her body still vibrating with the adrenaline of what had just happened. She closed her eyes, leaning against a nearby wall, the cold air biting into her skin, but it didn’t compare to the ache in her head. "I—I'm at Jason's place... well round the corner'," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The pain in her head was growing, a sharp throb that made it hard to think straight. Her mind kept replaying the fight—the yelling, the way he had gotten too close, and then the moment when he threw the glass bottle, the impact making her head snap back painfully.

"I... I hit my head. When he threw something," she whispered, her breath hitching as she tried not to break down. "My head hurts so bad. I feel dizzy." She paused, feeling guilt churn in her stomach. She hated that she had to call for help, hated that she couldn't just deal with it on her own, but the truth was, she felt like she was unravelling.

"I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb your night. I shouldn’t have—" The words felt hollow as they left her lips. Her chest tightened with regret, but she couldn’t undo what had already happened. "I didn’t want to involve you, I just... I didn’t know where else to go. I just need you to come, please."

Her vision swam for a moment, and she gripped the phone tighter, trying to stay conscious.

open to: any gender~ ↳ info: jackson, 30, mechanics shop teacher

when the other called him to come pick them up he found himself getting an earful from his date. sure it was valentine's day and he stopped their dinner but the call on the other end was too important to miss. his heart sunk when they cried, and he was fast to give his date money. "i'm so sorry.." he murmurs. quickly heading outside and pulling out his keys he head for his truck. "where are you i'm coming it's okay... don't cry.."

Jee's jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his expression unreadable, arms crossed over his chest. "And what if I already know that?" His voice was calm, but there was also an edge to it—like he was weighing every word carefully. "What if I don't care?" He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before finally meeting her gaze. "Maybe I just want to enjoy it while it lasts. Maybe I'm not looking for forever." A small, humourless smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Not everyone gets the kind of love you're talking about, Minnie."

open to: any gender~ ↳ info: minnie, 25, boutique worker

"they're not right for you." she tells the other softly turning around to face them. they had just finished telling her about their upcoming valentines day festivities and while minnie spent that time grinning and baring it, she couldn't keep it in any longer. "they're using your for you status and in a few weeks ... they're gonna toss you aside like they do to everyone else." she explained nervously her voice meek. "you deserve someone who cherishes you for you, and will actually care for you.."

open to : males !

plot : loosely based on this song but take it wherever you'd like -- feel free to message if you want more info or would like to plot

The party was in full swing, the air thick with cheap perfume, sweat, and the bass of some overplayed club mix. Winter wasn't even sure whose house this was—just that it was big, expensive, and filled with the exact type of people she tried to avoid.

And yet, here she was, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching a group of guys take turns admiring themselves in the reflection of the microwave door. All sharp jawlines, designer sneakers, and the same rehearsed smirk. The kind of guys who knew they were pretty, who expected the world to bend over backwards just because they flashed a grin.

"Let me guess," she said, tilting her head as one of them caught her staring. "You're about to tell me you’re different from the rest?"

Kai let out a low whistle, slow and mocking, as he watched her order her drink. Whiskey. Cute. Like she was trying to prove a point.

"Relax, Pia," he drawled, stretching out the name he heard her friend use as if it amused him. "I never said you had to bat your lashes at me. Trust me, sweetheart, my ego doesn't hinge on validation from girls who hate that they’re intrigued." He smirked, tapping his fingers idly against the counter.

He shifted slightly, watching her with that lazy, knowing look, like he’d already figured her out. "And yeah, I make assumptions. It’s called reading people. You walked in here already hating me, princess, so let’s not pretend this is a one-way street. I think you'll find you were the one who began with the stereotypes" He cocked his head, eyes flicking to her drink. "Whiskey, huh? Daddy’s favorite. Real original."

He leaned in just a fraction, voice dropping into something low and dry. "But hey, don't worry. I'm sure ordering the strongest thing on the menu totally proves you can ‘handle’ me." He smirked, taking a slow sip of his own drink. "Really shattering stereotypes tonight, huh?"

"i'm sorry did you want me to come in here all googly eyed for you? because that's clearly something your used to. just because girls tend to favour the bad boy i have abandonment issues card doesn't mean i'm gunna be fluttering my lashes at you. not to mention i've been here.. five minutes and you have already made countless assumptions about me when i have barely breathed a word about you, so who really is uptight here? got nothing better to do than to insult girls for kicks? 50% split on whether they can handle your sarcasm or they'll crumble but news flash.. but i am bothered by you. other than your ultimately charming conversational skills." she shifted to gaze away from him, looking around as the bartender stopped infront of her and she ordered a whisky. something she loved the taste of because her dad drank it so much it was a wholesome thing really for her. and probably the less likely option for the male next to her to make a snarky comment.

Ruby read his message, and if she wasn’t already mortified, this just about sent her over the edge. She collapsed back on her bed, wishing it would just eat her up and save her from this whole situation.

Her jaw dropped. Well 😈? THAT’S what he was going with? And then the follow-up? Oh, he was insufferable.

Her face burned as she gripped her phone, debating whether to block his smug ass altogether or try to salvage what little dignity she had left. But knowing King, ignoring him would only encourage him. And if he thought she was just going to roll over and let him have the upper hand, he had another thing coming.

With a deep breath, she started typing.

Text to King: Glad you like it. Too bad it was meant for someone who’d actually get to see it up close.

She bit her lip, smirking, imagining his expression when he read that.

the male was led in a very relaxed position, sprawled over his bed with one arm propping up his head. at this point he had lifted his torso in order to clock the farther window which was in line with her own. he could just about make her out in the mix of the glow of her lamp and the shadows that surrounded but he knew she was panicking. of course he was probably one of the last people she would want to be in receipt of a photo like this, and really he should delete it.. but on the other hand, he'd already seen it now, might as well take advantage of the situation. scrolling his fingertips over the screen to zoom in as he held the phone over his head in a led down position a smirk tugged at his features when a text came through from her again.

text to girl next door: well 😈

text: that's a cute little set you've got there

okay, so he couldn't help himself, he was handed a golden opportunity here and why wouldn't he take it? especially when nothing else exciting was going on this time of night other than a few other messages he chose to ignore.

Kai just stared at her for a beat, unimpressed, before letting out a short, gravelly laugh. Damn, she was wound tight. The scowl, the eye roll, the clenched jaw—yeah, he was getting under her skin already. Not that it was hard. People like her? They were used to admiration, not indifference.

"Relax, princess—" and yeah, he said it again, slow and deliberate, just to watch her bristle, "—it was just an observation. And congrats on the brunch trivia, really riveting stuff." His lips twitched, but he stayed leaning against the counter, unfazed by her little outburst.

"And nah, I don't tend to piss people off," he said, dragging a ringed hand through his inky black hair before flicking his gaze back to her. "Just the ones who come in here with a stick so far up their ass they could double as a coat rack." He tilted his head, studying her like she was some fascinating little science experiment. "You got something to prove? ‘Cause it’s real obvious you want me to know you can ‘hold your own.’” He smirked again, dark and lazy. “So what’s the deal? Daddy’s money not buying you enough respect these days?"

oh, she did not like him already. there was something about him that immediately had her on the defensive. the pet name alone had her features hardening with a scowl. "i'm sorry what did you just call me?!" you could tell by her tone she was far from impressed, and he may have thought he was being funny but she certainly did not agree. "it's mimosas for brunch, not champagne actually." her orbs rolled with bemusement as her lips pursed and with that her jaw began to clench. "oh, so what you're saying is that because i am not.. what? covered in ink and wearing a leather jacket i can't possibly be seen anywhere like this? talk about stereotyping me. well done. great first impression. do you tend to piss off all the people you first meet or am i just a special exception?" just because she didn't look rough around the edges didn't mean she wasn't allowed to step foot in the bar. pia was very much the type who could hold her own, and he was just about the learn that little fact just by opening his mouth.

Zach barely spares her a glance, leaning back with his arms crossed. "Dunno, just figured I'd give you a chance to complain since you seem to love doing that," he says dryly. His tone isn't exactly cruel, but it's definitely not warm, either. He shrugs, eyes flicking away like he’s already lost interest. "But hey, if you don’t wanna talk, that works for me."

cassidy couldn't help the irritation on her face when the other was asking her what was wrong. the two hadn't gotten along and yet here they were seeming to fake sympathy for her. a brow raised as she tries to pull herself together in this moment. "why are you even asking me?" she says her voice not quite laced with venom this time - more like confusion then anything. // @littledaydreamers

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

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."

Oh. Oh shit.

Her heart stopped the second she saw the name above the message. That was not meant for him.

Ruby sat up so fast that she nearly knocked her phone out of her hands. Sleepy confusion turned into full-blown horror as she clicked back to the chat, praying she was hallucinating. Nope. There it was. Sent. Delivered. Read.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, as if that would somehow undo the fact that King—her neighbour King—had just seen that.

Her mind raced. Maybe he hadn’t actually looked at it yet? Maybe he’d just seen the notification and ignored it? But no, knowing him, he definitely opened it. Her stomach flipped at the thought.

Okay. Breathe. Fix this. Damage control.

Fingers shaking, she quickly typed out a message:

"OH MY GOD. King, that was NOT for you. I am SO sorry. Please just pretend you never saw that. Or delete it. Or—oh my god, this is humiliating."

She hesitated for half a second before sending it, then groaned, flopping back onto her bed and covering her face with both hands. Of all the people…

truth be told king had always had a thing for her. did he do anything about it? oh, absolutely not. he was the first one to be informed of her useless and irritating male partners she kept and yet he never tossed his hat in the ring. he'd made jokes about it because they had this thing between them, a sort of tension if you will that couldn't entirely be pin pointed. he liked it that way, ad he enjoyed being the one person to wind her up. on this evening in particular he was just about to text her as her light was still on quite early. they'd been neighbours long enough he could catch the glow in the corner of his eye even where he was sprawled out on his bed. it wasn't until his phone pinged and he realised it was her, he was a little surprised. could she read his mind? not really thinking anything of it he clicked on the picture half asleep before he realised the extend of what was on his screen. well. his evening took an interesting turn. @littledaydreamers

"Oh, Owen!" Mei gasped, her voice full of exasperated affection as she practically bounced across the room, light as a sunbeam. "You always say things like that so casually—like 'Oh, I just tripped and accidentally fell into a whole battlefield!'”

She dropped to her knees beside him, her small hands fluttering over the wound like worried butterflies. "That is not a 'small' explosion! And this is not just a disagreement—this is your poor leg being very upset with you!" Mei pouted, puffing out her cheeks before sighing dramatically. "Owen, do you know how hard it is to get bloodstains out of cotton? It's, like, level ten difficult. And I don't even wanna talk about the floorboards!"

But even as she huffed and fussed, her fingers were already reaching for the first aid kit, which she definitely didn’t steal from his bathroom last time. "Honestly, you make my heart work overtime! Now sit still, you big doughnut." She shot him a glare as she dabbed at the wound, not as gently as usual "Y'know what else isn’t easy? Watching you come home all battered up like this again and again and again!”

Closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this

The crimson liquid stained the pristine white cotton, blooming like an angry flower against the soft fabric. Owen sighed, a rumble that vibrated against the floorboards of his impeccably clean apartment. He hated blood. Not because of the violence it implied, no, Owen was intimately familiar with that particular dance. He hated it because every drop on his clothes or floor meant a lecture was coming.

He knew she was there, he felt her eyes on him before he even bothered looking up. Sitting on the edge of the plush sofa, his massive frame dwarfing the delicate cushions. “Just a disagreement," he mumbled, trying to minimize the jagged gash across his thigh. "A disagreement that required knives and a… small explosion.”

Closed starter | @amoonlitmemory

"Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?"

Closed starter | @amoonlitmemory

“Do I ask questions, or do I just help you clean up all this blood?”

Jimmy stood in the doorway, his usual confident demeanour softened by concern as he looked at Thomas. He took a step inside, closing the door gently behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Barrow, you know me well enough. I don't need much of an excuse to avoid working," Jimmy replied with a lopsided grin. He moved closer, pulling up a chair beside the bed and sitting down, his eyes scanning Thomas's face and the still-healing bruises with genuine worry. "How are ya holding up?"

He leaned back in the chair, trying to appear casual but unable to hide the tension in his posture. "Can't imagine how boring it must be, stuck in 'ere all day. I brought you something to read, thought it might help pass the time," he said, pulling a small book from his pocket and placing it on the bedside table. He wasn't about to admit, he'd popped down to Thirsk to buy the book as he had nothing in his own room to lend to the male.

Jimmy's expression softened further as he met Thomas's eyes. "I know it's been rough, what with everything that happened… and, well, how I've been. I'm sorry, Mr. Barrow. I truly am. But I'm 'ere now, and I wanna help in any way I can. You need anything, you just let me know, alright?"

He reached out, a hesitant but warm gesture, patting Thomas's arm lightly. "And don't worry about the work. Mr. Carson won't miss me for a few minutes. Besides, Mrs Hughes said that I could come and see you."

after the events at the thirsk fair thomas was healing up well, although he had mostly been sleeping for the first few days. a week in, the smaller of his cuts had begun to heal, bruises turning from angry purple to a sickly shade of yellow. it would be another three weeks before he could fully return to work — his cracked ribs ensured that, the pain down his left side was still almost unbearable at times, the skin still tender, mottled purple bruising in the shape of a boot betraying where the thugs had kicked him.

still, for all the pain and trouble, at least thomas had gotten something out of the whole affair. jimmy kent was to be his friend again... after a year of snide remarks, cold shoulders and avoidance that hurt almost as much as the physical beating he'd recieved at the fair, each and everyone one like a punch to the heart... things were okay now, between them, things had been set right. and that had to account for something, at least.

but, right now, thomas was bored. a week of bedrest and he had seen enough of his small attic room to last a lifetime. he wanted to get up, he needed to shave, he wanted to have a proper bath, he wanted something to do. sitting up was a struggle, the metal cot groaned and creaked under the shifting of his weight, aching muscles screaming in protest as the underbutler slowly moved, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and bracing himself for a moment. the pain in his ribs spiked and twisted, causing a sharp hiss to escape from between his teeth — his stomach churned and he felt sick, worried for a moment that he'd become reacquainted with his breakfast...

there was a short knock at his door before it opened, and thomas glanced up at his vistor, his friend, and couldn't help the slight smile that tugged at his lips, small and questioning.

❝ ... jimmy...? shouldn't you be workin'? ❞

plotted starter ~ jimmy kent ; @littledaydreamers

｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ nine people i'd like to get to know better ｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

last song i listened to: terms and conditions by Seb Lowe. (little fitting giving the election haha)

favorite color: Mint Green.

currently watching: Law and Order SVU, Monk, The Bear, Call the Midwife, House of Dragon (it's getting difficult to fit them all in. Maybe I should binge-watch one programme at a time, haha.

spicy/savory/sweet: Sweet or Savory depending on my mood.

relationship status: In a relationship

current obsession: Crocheting, writing (and rping), The Bikeriders (the film), Bridgerton, tarot cards and anything period related whether its reading, writing or watching-- or just discussing things tbh.

tagged by: @butlerbarrow <3 (took me a while to actually do it, whoops) tagging: @amoonlitmemory, @vicletnight, @byronlc and anyone else who wants to do it!

i am still here, promise, just been busy... will work on some replies tomorrow <3

"What? James, I haven't been with anyone." Violet argued back surprised by his reaction. "Come on, you know I was at work."

open to: f (mutuals only)

muse: James Junior Rennie, 21-28, cis male, straight

cw for: toxic relationship, extremely obsessive and possessive behavior

"You taste like cigarettes." He pulled away, breaking the kiss, his face contorted in disgust. "Who have you been with?" James demanded, glaring.

"I'm sure you would be the same if the situation was reversed." Zoe replied chewing her lip to keep the bashful smile from her face. "And who's to say I don't actually like this guy I met?" She asked matter-of-factly as she raised a brow.

"you're so dramatic," comment flows easily, laughter escaping his lips -- tongue darting out to dampen them. smirk growing upon noticing the redness growing on cheeks. "some guy at the club getting pictures like that? damn, can't imagine if what you'll send someone you actually like."

Fletcher's eyes lingered on the female as he tried to work her out. "I'm just saying blackmailing criminals sounds like a dangerous pastime. I would hate for something to happen to you."

Completely  motionless,  Dove  kept  her  blue  eyes  on  Fletcher.  If  there  was  something  she  learned  from  her  high  school  best  friend,  then  that  you  should  never  back  down  ever.  ❝Oh  that's  funny,  why  not?❞

Brooke leaned into his touch, her eyes closing momentarily as she savoured his warm touch and the feeling of safety, but she knew it wouldn't last, not if DJ had anything to do with it. She blinked away her tears, forcing a smile to her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I could never ask that of you. I don't want to be the reason for any harm coming to you Trent"

continued from here for @littledaydreamers

Looking into the other's eyes, seeing the worry that was undoubtedly present in them, Trenton gently cupped the other's cheek with the tilt of his own head. "Brooke," he spoke her name softly, pain laced in his tone as he ached to help the other. Still, he put on an attempted smile in hopes to give the other some courage. "I'm just as good at helping people hide as I am at finding them." Granted it came as a part of his job, but he truly wanted to help the woman in any way he could. "You can be safe with me, I promise."

Casey felt her eyes on his lip. He could only imagine the state he was in. "Nothing. It's not important -- I just need to leave, and quickly. Say you'll come with me. Please, Corey." The male replied as he begged her. "Yeah, he did, but I'm not taking it anymore. I'm getting far away from here" Casey muttered, wincing as he pressed a hand to his lip.

corey  had  only  been  standing  on  casey’s  doorstep  less  than  a  minute  before  the  door  swung  open.  her  pouty,  glossed  lips  parted,  eyes  zeroing  in  on  her  friend’s  bloodied  lip.  “whoa,  what  happened?”  the  response  fell  from  his  mouth  so  fast  that  her  brain  could  barely  keep  up.  must’ve  had  something  to  do  with  coming  off  a  ten  hour  shift  at  the  gas  station.  it  sounded  like  a  jumbled  mess.  all  she  heard  was  come  with  me.  “c’mere.”  corey  breathed,  pulling  him  onto  the  porch.  “your  dad  did  this?”

"Of course, it isn't," Nadia replied, rolling her eyes. "I'd be pretty crap at my job if it was." She held her hand up, admiring the crimson red staining it. "Pretty, isn't it? There's no other red quite like the colour of blood."

open to anyone! muse: amar 'ozzy' oza, wanderer / musician. age 29-32.

"is that your blood?"

Fletcher narrowed his gaze at her, his patience wearing thin. "Have you ever thought, knowing what you know about me, it might not be sensible to blackmail me?"

open  to  any gender connection: any, just no strangers.

❝If  you  don't  want  the  world  to  know  about  your  secret,  you  better  do  as  I  say.  Was  that  clear  enough  for  you?❞

Brooke placed her book down as she heard the knock on the door. It was late, even for her. Working as an escort meant she had many callers at all kinds of ungodly hours, but 4 a.m. was unusual, which meant it could only be one person: Max.

Walking to the door, Brooke looked through the peephole to confirm her suspicions. She caught a glimpse of his steel-blue eyes fixed upon the door as if he could see through it. Max never telephoned or sent messages before arriving. They had an unspoken agreement that he could come whenever his need to unwind consumed him. Tonight, the need was evidently strong. Pulling the door open, she noticed the scratch on his cheek and blood on his tie. "Christ, what happened to you?" She asked as she stepped aside to let him in.

Open Starter

Max Tudor - 31, bisexual, enforcer

Open to mutuals and non-mutuals

Connection Ideas - Ex; friend/FWB; affair; escort; hookup; fellow criminal; rival gang member; cop/lawyer

++

The distinctive sound of Max’s Chelsea boots against the hardwood floor signalled his presence before knocking on the apartment door. The late hour didn’t matter to him. As a veteran criminal, he split his time between orchestrating robberies and enforcing the will of his bosses. Therefore, he rarely kept office hours. It wasn’t the first time he’d visited them at such an ungodly time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last either. 

After three sharp knocks, Max waited. If they looked through the peephole, they’d see him standing firmly in his three-piece suit and overcoat, eyes fixated on the door. Max never texted or called before coming over. They had an understanding he could arrive whenever he needed to unwind. Tonight, such a principle stood stronger than ever, considering the bruising on his knuckles, the scratch on his cheek and the specks of blood on his tie. 

"No, of course we aren't. I'm mortified that you've even brought it up. Now I'm going to need to sell my house, move country and find a cave to live the rest of my days alone." The blonde joked, a red hue spreading warmth across her cheeks. "Just some new guy I met at a club if you must know."

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . open starter: to all ˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

♡ muse: andres ortiz. early-twenties.  ♡ plot: y/m accidentally sent andres their n*des, days later he's bringing it up

"are we really not going to talk about it?" brows quirks as light chuckles falls from lips. leaning in closely towards the other, "it definitely wasn't meant for me, who was it for?"

Ruby held a hand to her mouth, trying to hold back the laughter. "Why did you even leave the house in just a towel? One gust of wind, and you're in trouble." A snort of laughter escaped her mouth, bursting through her hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh, but come on, you're making it too easy." The brunette replied, trying to focus on how funny the situation was rather than let her eyes linger on his naked torso for too long.

open  to  fems  &  mascs connection:  crush,  exes,  (best) friends,  gf/bf,  basically everything but no strangers please.

❝Obviously  I  locked  myself  out.❞  Bryce  rolled  his  dark  eyes  and  gestured  at  his  half-naked  body,  covered  only  by  a  towel  around  his  hips.  At  the  same  time,  his  dark  hair  was  still  soaking  wet.  ❝I'd  appreciate  it  if  you  didn't  laugh,  but  help  me  instead,  it's  not  very  warm.❞

I'm still here! I've just been reorganising my muses and bios. I'll put some starters up soon :)

Give me a vampire couple that’s been on and off again for like hundreds of years. Like they fight like crazy and break up and not see each other again for a long time but then come back together like nothing has changed and are all over each other in love. They won’t admit it but they’ll love each other forever no matter what, even if they’re not always together. 

"Yes, I know it shouldn't be, but it is. The lines got blurred, it should have never of happened -- I shouldn't have let it happen. I can only apologise. I didn't mean to hurt you." Aiden tried to explain it, but there was no excuse. "Of course I did! I still do. I hate that I've done this to you. You deserve better-- I should have stayed away from you; I always knew I'd end up fucking it up; I was selfish." He wanted to take her hand but he couldn't face it if she pulled away.

𝐨𝐡 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫  .  how  could  she  shoulder  the  weight  of  pity  for  him  ,  when  he  was  the  architect  who  caused  their  destruction  ?  his  answer  wasn't  ideal  ,  a  bitter  pill  she  was  forced  to  swallow.   she  drew  a  long  breath  ,  a  silent  plea  to  the  universe  to  help  her  find  her  patience  .  "  is  it  really  that  hard  of  a  question  ?  "  her  furrowed  brows  evident  thats  she  was  close  to  giving  up  —  close  to  walking  away  .  "  did  you  ever  even  love  me  ?  or  was  that  a  lie  too  ?  "

"Well, you certainly made an impression," Isabelle stated, a wry smile playing on her lips as the male took a seat next to her. "Not many people would bother to step in like that." She couldn't help but admire his chivalry. "I appreciate it, though. It's not always easy being a lone woman in a place like this."

The brunette let her eyes rake over the male as she took a sip of her drink. "So, you want casual conversation, huh? Let's see. What's a six-foot-something guy like you doing in a place like this? You don't exactly fit the 'pick-up-artist' stereotype." Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, gauging his reaction. "And, you're right, security should have done something sooner. But, it takes an actual fight for them to even bother to pay attention." Isabella replied, rolling her eyes "You seem like a guy who likes to take charge. Tell me, what kind of 'interesting' conversations do you usually have?"

open to: f connection: friend or stranger at a bar @indiestarter

It'd been a long fucking week. All Wyatt wanted was to have a quiet night with a glass of cheap cold beer, potentially eye fuck a girl or two before dragging his ass back home to ignore his roommate and pass out on the couch while watching old sitcom re-runs. Not too much to ask for in his opinion. Unfortunately, some drunken twathead began nagging at the pretty ladies sitting by the bar basically begging from them to go home with him. None were entertaining him but they all recoiled. Finally, Wyatt grew tired enough to get up - all six foot five inches of him - to push the man out of the bar ... doing security's job for them. When he re-entered, he shook his head at the woman who opened her mouth to thank him. "No need, sweetheart. Just doing what security should've done five drinks ago." Taking residence next to her, he smirked her way. "Pay me back with casual conversation. It's been a while since I've had an interesting one."