Latest Posts by littledaydreamers - Page 4

Jude shrank into herself, a blush spreading across her cheeks after being caught hiding from him. She let out a small sigh as she pushed herself up off of the floor and met Z's gaze. "Aren't you angry? We're being used like pawns -- they know we don't like each other but the don't care. How are you being so calm about this?" The brunette asked her voice sharp as she let her emotions get the better of her after leaving them to bubble up in the silence. Jude paused, bringing her hand to her mouth as she tried to push her feelings back down. "I'm sorry. You're right, for once. I just... " She trailed off, her tone losing its edge. "Let's grab something to eat."

z paced the living room, the silence almost as oppressive as the forced situation they found themselves in. he wasn't sure what he had expected, but jude hiding away wasn't it. he took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before heading towards the bedroom.

❛ jude, ❜ he called softly, leaning against the door frame, not wanting to startle her. ❛ i know this isn't what either of us wanted, but hiding isn't going to make it any easier. ❜ he hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. ❛ look, i get it. we’re different, & we don't have to like each other. but we're stuck in this together, at least for now. so, let's try to make the best of it. we don’t have to talk about anything serious. just… come out & eat something. you must be hungry. ❜ z sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a ton of bricks. ❛ i promise, i’m not here to make things harder for you. ❜

A gentle voice cut through the darkness, but Robbie was too distressed to hear the man's words. He clutched his head in his trembling hands, sobbing as he rocked back and forth. "They're dead. They're all dead." He whispered, his voice a broken echo.

The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the space, casting a warm and comforting light. Robbie felt the bed dip as the male took a seat next to him, trying to calm him. With the man's soothing words and gentle touch, Robbie finally met his gaze. "They're all dead. I watched them die, one by one." He repeated, his voice strangled.

thomas barrow made a habit of being a self-centered man, he wouldn't deny it. he had learnt, from a young age, that if there was no one else to look out for him then he could only trust himself. his reasons for volunteering as a medic had been, in part, selfish ones. his medical training had spared him active military service for the first few months of the war, and he had believed, as everyone else had, that the whole thing would blow over quickly. he would have left the army with newfound status and a possible change in profession. that was the plan at least... how naive that young man had been.

the war had changed him, changed everything — the footman turned medic, now managing the makeshift convalescent home that had taken over downton, working alongside members of the very family that he used to serve. he was no longer at the front, but thomas had seen firsthand the horrors that these men had returned from. he knew the destruction, the death, the pain and suffering, the desperation. he felt a duty of care; underneath that egocentric, individualistic mindset, thomas barrow cared about the poor souls. if he could ease their plight in any way, he was glad to.

a shout drew the lance corporal's attention — night terrors were becoming increasingly more common in the soldiers that passed through his care... depression, shell shock, post-traumatic stress disorder, was it truly any wonder when they had been through hell and back?

❝ hey now, easy there. you're alright, sir. ❞ he started, coming to the soldier's bedside as he jolted awake. speaking in gentle, hushed tones, a hand rested on the man's good shoulder, thumb rubbing in soothing circles as thomas tried to meet his gaze. in the soft lamplight, sharp grey hues searched the soldier's own slightly vacant stare, as the medic continued — with a string of comforting words and a grounding touch, he tried to bring the other out of whatever nightmare plagued his mind.

❝ you're alright, just breath for me, nice and slowly, sir, that's it. you're safe. ❞

Closed Starter for @bloodbared

In the dim confines of their new home, Jude huddled on the floor behind the bed in the oppressive silence that had filled the house all night. She still couldn't believe her father had forced this union on her. All her life, she'd strived to avoid him and his business, his violent lifestyle a constant shadow she desperately wanted to outrun. But somehow, she'd been dragged back into it.

She'd met Z a few times, enough to know their differences were as vast as the ocean, their mutual dislike a palpable tension in the air. The awkwardness of their first night together in the same house was a suffocating blanket, the weight of her father’s expectations pressing down on her like a physical force.  Jude wondered how long she could hide out in the bedroom from him before he'd attempt to look for her.

"I don't think that's your place to say. And please don't presume to know what my demons are or what they look like."

OPEN TO: any muse 25 + ! MUSE: vance wilder. twenty-nine. callum turner fc. your hometown burn out.

"The difference between us is that you weren't the worst thing that happened to me. But you? You've got your demons and they all look like me."

"Funny, sometimes I think the same thing." Owen replied with a shrug knowing she wasn't the only one responsible for the way things were.

open | f/m/nb muse | paisley jones, she/her, 39, physics professor connection | anything! could include coworker, gf/bf, ex gf/bf, best friend, fwb, enemies, frenemies, stranger, etc (no taboo pls)

"sometimes i think you must hate me," paisley spoke with a forced chuckle, trying to hide any hurt that was tempted to seep through.

Brooke shook her head. "I can't. DJ will find out—I know he will, he always does." She replied, her voice filled with fear.

open | f/m/nb muse | trenton biggs, he/him, 35, mafia member connection | anything! could include coworker, gf/bf, ex gf/bf, best friend, fwb, stranger, rival gang member, etc (no taboo pls)

"just let me do this for you," he insisted in effort to help the other.

Teddie's voice, a mere whisper against the pounding of her own heart, trembled as she spoke. "Seb, I'm so sorry. I didn't know where else to go." Her eyes welled up with tears as she met his gaze. "He... he hit me again. I couldn't take it anymore." The words escaped her lips in a choked torrent, each syllable a testament to the fear and desperation that had driven her to his doorstep. Her body shook as she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, needing some sort of comfort.

banging on his door this late in the evening was unexpected - sebastian didn't often have much company none the less so late. rolling out of bed he rubs his hands over his face and opens the door to see the other standing before him. "everything okay?" he asked looking them over. // @littledaydreamers

"Don't take it personally. I'm just used to it being just me," Felix replied, scratching the back of his neck, feeling awkward. He'd always hidden his emotions away from others, and it was weird trying to be open and honest around Arden, even with her gentleness.

"you know i care about you right?" arden says gently to the other with a small sigh that leaves her lips. "you don't have to hide away from me when things get hard." // @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   .       ’

a plot where...

a rough around the edges, con artist girl is doing dirty work for her shitty boyfriend and they decide to target a rich, wealthy, cocky sort of young socialite male who feels like his life is a bit empty and redundant, and she may seem like she’s in this con artist game for the money (and she is, partly, because she grew up really poor and knows how it feels to starve) but she also has an unhealthy attachment to the boyfriend even though he treats her like crap and uses her to attract rich males, and then, on the night where she has dressed up and come up with a fake name and is about to make her move on the rich young man she realizes oh, he’s actually extremely attractive and cute and not like the other creepy old men she preys on? and oh, he’s actually extremely charismatic and witty and charming and kind of a dick, but not to her? and oh, now they’re kind of going out on multiple really amazing dates and spending tons of time together and she’s supposed to be digging for his deepest secrets and finding out numbers to his safes and stealing jewelry pieces he probably won’t miss and then one night, her wallet falls out of her bag and… OH, why is her name not the name that she said it was on her drivers license and why are his personal, private cartier bracelets engraved with his initials in there too and who the fuck is calling her phone ??????

idk why but it’s hella cute to me to think about a plot of a pop star and her backup guitarist/tour manager/opening act/some sort of somebody that would be on tour. cute flirtation during rehearsals. tour bus antics. late night kisses on the balcony of a hotel room under the moonlight. paparazzi catching the loving gazes. rumors starting to swirl. just yes.

Open to || females only Muse: Casey. 23-27 . straight. he/him pronouns Connection: friends, fwb, anything along these lines

Casey wiped the blood from his lip, the taste of copper metallic in his mouth. He knew he couldn't stay. Not this time. His dad had gone too far. They'd been in fights before -- Casey had experienced broken bones from his father's wrath, but something in the way his dad had looked at him tonight, eyes blazing with a fury that made Casey's skin crawl, was different. His dad had even reached for the knife off of the kitchen table. Casey was sure he'd only been saved because of the knock at the door. He needed to get out, get far away. He thought of his friend, her bright smile and the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. He'd insisted they were just friends, afraid of admitting the truth. But now, with his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach twisting with fear, he knew he had to tell her. "I need you. I need to get away, and I need you to come with me." He didn't know if she'd say yes, but he had to try. The thought of staying, of facing his dad's wrath again, was unbearable.

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.

Becca shook her head, a mixture of fear and helplessness written across her face. "No, it's just all over me." She had already checked the room before she called Indiana. The blonde had hoped that if she worked out where she was and looked for more blood, she could piece together what had happened, but other than the small spot she had taken up on the bed, the place was spotless.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to recall the events leading up to the bloody discovery. "I... I'm not sure," she stammered, her voice trembling slightly. "I think I may have been walking home from work last night."

Indiana could be the best or worst person to call in an emergency, depending on his state of mind. He was loyal, that much was true, and distrusting of people he wasn’t close to, so he would always keep the other person’s secrets, work diligently to keep them safe from harm or discovery in the case that they had done something society arbitrarily decided was wrong. He was still adjusting to the real world, still figuring out the way it worked. When she called him, he didn’t hesitate to find his way to her location, the sight of blood dried on her hands and body not making him recoil the way it might most people. He’d been raised in violence, brought up to respect and appreciate death… sacrifice. Frowning, he grabbed hold of her wrists, meeting her gaze with his own. “Have you found any blood elsewhere in the room?” His eyes scanned but he could see nothing that would’ve caused this much of a mess. “This must be a secondary location.” Pausing, he tried to think of what his siblings would do in this same situation, meeting her gaze again, he inquired: “What’s the last thing you do remember?”

OPEN STARTER, OPEN TO ALL. PLOT: Becca (she/her || 24-29) called your muse after waking up covered in blood with no recollection of what happened. This can go anywhere I honestly don’t mind but if you’d like to plot it out more feel  free to message me.

Becca sat on the edge of the bed, the dingy motel room a stark backdrop. A sharp rap on the door shattered the silence, leaving her frozen, unable to speak or move. The door swung open before she could react, and they stepped inside. Their words were a blur, lost in the fog of her own shock. She stared down at her hands, crimson stains mirroring the sticky crimson clinging to her clothes. Her gaze lingered on a crust of dried blood under her nails, a silent indictment. 'I tried to wash it off,' she whispered, her voice barely a rasp, 'but I couldn't.' Finally, she met their gaze, a flicker of clarity piercing the haze of confusion. 'I don't know what happened,' she choked out, her voice laced with anguish, 'I can't remember anything.'

"Well, you sure know how to make a girl blush. You don't look so bad yourself, handsome."

@littledaydreamers liked this for a lyric starter or two

"I'm not sentimental, but there's somethin' 'bout the way you look tonight, mm, makes me wanna take a picture. make a movie with you that we'd have to hide."

There was a beat of hesitation. "I...I don't know." He muttered, his guilt pressing down on his shoulders.

open to all ( 25+ )

"  be  honest  with  me  for  once .  do  you  love  her  ?   "

Eleanor sighed. She was fed up with men beating on their chests and acting like alpha males. Something told her William Adams would be no different. "It depends. Do you finally have something useful to say?"

open to; f muse; william adams. 34. detective. plot; the captains daughter becomes your new partner but we don't along at ALL

Hell. He was definitely in hell. Or this was some sick joke the universe decided to play on him. He must have done something horrible in a past life. "Can't you just listen to me for five minutes?"

Enemies to “ugh I can’t believe I’m saving your life” to “ugh we have to work together or the world ends but it’s not like I like you or anything” to “oh we actually connect pretty well but that doesn’t mean anything” to “I would die for you but don’t read too much into it” to “I’ll kill anyone who lays a finger on you” to Lovers.

"And what is this difference?" Brooke questioned, raising a brow. "Maybe I'll get you a bouquet of tulips accompanied by a box of dark chocolates as a down payment. But if you want a real thank you, I can teach you how to take care of a goldfish...Low maintenance, I promise!”

open to all! darius landon. forty three. he/him. bisexual. assassin & owner of the good company safe haven bar for criminals. son of the landon crime family.

"i'm not going to stop you from getting yourself killed." darius chuckled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he rolled back onto the heels of his boots. "i will help you live though, if you ask really nicely. i'm partial to tulips, dark chocolate, and i can't take care of pets, but i am sure you'll find something good to thank me."

amoonlitmemory​:

Jacey grinned as she listened to him rant, not that he didn’t have a valid point with all his concerns, it was just that in her job she was used to having to make the best of a situation and make do with what you had so being short staffed wasn’t anything new to her. If anything working with children had made her pretty easy going as a person. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad. Look at it this way, you get to stay in a beautiful place that you don’t have to pay for. Free food and my company for the summer.” She nudged his shoulder playfully. “Everything is going to be fine, we’ll figure it out and besides it’s for a good cause remember? This is the only holiday some of these kids will get and it’s a chance for them to get away from things going on at home.”

Asher took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Jacey had a point, the kids were the reason they were doing this. They were there to give the children a chance to experience something they might not have otherwise. And he couldn't deny that the location was stunning, with a crystal-clear lake and towering trees surrounding the campsite. "Okay, you're right. We'll figure it out," he said, smiling at Jacey. “And if we don’t, well, maybe I’ll just sneak off in the middle of the night and leave you with all of the screaming brats.” 

amoonlitmemory​:

Kennedy couldn’t help the feeling of relief at hearing her friends voice, not that she would let it show of course. It would be a mistake to show any type of fear or emotion amongst current company. She couldn’t even let it show that she had no weapon, instead having to bluff her way out of trouble. “I believe my friend asked you a question. I would be wise in heeding her unless of course you’d like the rumor of having been bested by two women?” Feeling the grip on her wrist loosen and the fact that she was now able to take a step back from his grubby paws. Not taking her eyes off him as she made her retreat and moved closer to Theo.

The man sneered at the two women, his eyes flitting between Kennedy and Theodosia. He seemed to be evaluating their worth; to him, they were nothing but two skinny girls, easy prey. But as he prepared to make a move, Theodosia pushed the blade deeper into his back, causing him to wince in pain. "I'm not going to ask you again," Theodosia spoke firmly, her voice carrying a dangerous edge. "Leave us be, or face the consequences."

The man hesitated for a moment before turning around to face the women. "You'll regret this," he spat before walking away with a limp.

As the man disappeared into the crowded streets of Nassau, Theodosia turned to Kennedy with a concerned look on her face. "Are you alright?"

i want to have a plot where ballerina/bad boy and she has very strict parents and they force to dedicate her life to dancing which she agrees to until she meets a boy who smokes a lot, gets into a lot of fights, and always has a cocky smile on his face. but she doesn’t mind because he makes her feel like she isn’t someone’s doll anymore, like a normal person. 

strijdsromee​:

someone should give me a plot with this big bad gang leader and his super soft and cute girlfriend that has him wrapped around her finger. like he’s a feared man, which she doesn’t really care about. and she’s there to patch him up and while he usually tries to hide her away from the cruel world he’s in whenever he isn’t there with her, she just patiently waits for him when he’s out and about doing his business and he’s so fascinated by her and no matter how much of a bad guy he is, he’s just so soft for her and he’d do anything for her!!! and then his most precious possession gets kidnaped and shit goes down snsnsns

whateverrps-blog​:

I really, REALLY want a plot where a son of a dangerous and feared mobster is put in charge of managing his father’s strip club and falls for one of the dancers. 

amoonlitmemory​:

Naimh couldn’t help but grumble under her breathe as she watched the other man walk away following the intruders threat. A part of her looking forward to the fight as if to help prove her capabilities and strength only for the opportunity to disappear. “And what makes you think that he wouldn’t have finally met his match with me? I do not like to be underestimated.” Not having many other options and also being low on funds for the time being, had her taking the offered seat. “I’ll take the drink considering I no longer have other forms of entertainment.” She paused briefly before mumbling. “Thank you.”

Jacob found himself rolling his eyes at the fiery young woman. He usually would have found the impassioned woman capable of fighting her own battles impressive but he’d had a long day and wasn’t totally convinced it was a fight she’d be able to win despite her protests. He, himself, could have probably taken the male on but in all honestly he didn’t fancy the fight. “You saw the guy, did you not? That man was six foot three, he could have just stepped on and you’d be splattered like a grape. Do you want to be a squashed grape? I thought not, now please, choose your fights wisely and preferably when I’m not around. This is my quiet time and I do not react well to people disturbing it.” Jacob chastised the young woman shaking his head at her. He nodded his head at the bar keep gesturing for two more drinks to be brought over. “Have you ever tried gambling? There’s only a slight chance of being murdered or a fight breaking out and much more entertaining. You should try it.”

Closed Starter || @amoonlitmemory​​

“So, the camp is supposed to open tomorrow, but at the moment we only have 4 camp counsellors, one cook and one nurse. No one knows who is in charge - and did I mention the kids are coming tomorrow?” Asher ranted, feeling more than a little stressed. He wondered how he wounded up in this position as a Summer Camp Counsellor, but then he remembered the other had pressured him into the position. “Remind me why I let you convince me to do this?”

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.

amoonlitmemory​:

“That won’t be for a while yet, Mr Dawson. You’re not going anywhere until I’m happy with your progress and I know you’re injuries are fully healed.” Her heart couldn’t help but break a little seeing his face. Of course she knew that she had no real power to stop him being called once more, it was inevitable with war. Yet she couldn’t have stopped the attachment that she had seemed to have formed during her care of him and the time she had spent by his bedside. “Your sister asked me to drop by. She’s worried about you.”

“Alex,” the male interjected with a gentle correction. “Please, call me Alex. Mr Dawson is my father. Besides, I believe we’ve known each other long enough to drop the formalities now.” He fell into a thoughtful silence, mulling over her words. Although he didn’t perceive his injuries as overly burdensome, he acknowledged his lack of medical expertise. “My shoulder gives me some trouble but overall, I feel like I’ve healed quite well. It’s more my head, y’know?” Alex’s voice grew softer, as if opening up a part of himself he rarely shared. Melissa had a way of putting him at ease, enabling him to speak about thoughts he never thought he would verbalize. “She worries too much.” It was undeniably true, yet he couldn't deny his own contribution to her concerns—ignoring her calls and isolating himself at home for over a week.

amoonlitmemory​:

“Excuse me?” Naimh whirled around to face him, her attention diverted from the original annoyance she had been arguing with as her eyes flashed in anger at the new stranger. “If I wanted your input I would have asked for it, this is no business of yours so stay out of it. Unless of course you would rather my knife be held to your gut instead of his?” A single brow arched in challenge as her gaze flicked down to her wrist where she was gripping her blade. Once again her temper and short fuse had left her in a predicament that could probably have been avoided.

Jacob raised his brow as the young woman began to complain. He suddenly regretted inserting himself into the situation. The woman obviously didn’t want help despite needing it unless she wanted the conversation to end violently. It almost certainly would, given the pirate she was arguing with was known for being hot-headed and bloody thirsty. “Y'know, most would say thank you. Do you have any idea who you were getting into a confrontation with? You may be able to look after yourself, Miss, but trust me, he is not a man you want to be fighting with.” He warned her, shaking his head as he gestured to the barkeep for another two drinks. “Now, you can sit down and have a quiet drink with me, or you can piss off – I honestly couldn’t care much either way."