Dxrlingdevils​:

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.

"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  ?  "

Rhiannon tilted her head slightly, watching the way he worried at his cuticles, the way his shoulders stayed tense even as he tried to settle against the wall. She didn’t judge his answer—just took it in, like she was tucking it away somewhere safe. “Maybe they don’t like talking to you. Or maybe they just don’t know how -- but that’s their problem, not yours.”

At his question, she exhaled slowly, turning her gaze toward the yard. “I walk,” she said after a moment. “Barefoot, mostly. The colder, the better. It makes my head feel… quieter-- like all the noise gets pressed down into the earth.”

She stretched one foot out, pressing her toes lightly against the wood as if proving her point. “If that doesn’t work, I count things. Patterns in the ceiling. The way people blink. The stars, if I can see them.” A pause, then a quiet, almost absentminded addition: “And if that doesn’t work… I try to let it go until it burns itself out.” She made it sound easy, but it was rare that it ever burned itself out. Her thoughts and anxiety got the better of her most days, but the things she mentioned did help ease things for her.

There was a gentle comfort that came from having someone understanding him, it was a rare thing for him to encounter. Even his father couldn't fully understand him. Kit pushed his glasses up his nose and tried to make himself more comfortable against the wall. Of course that was proving to be impossible with the thumping of the music from inside, he could even hear the occasional loud eruption of cheers over whatever song was being played. He thought momentarily of leaving and going home to some peace and quiet but thought that would be rude considering he was in the middle of a conversation.

Kit brought his his thumb to his lips and began picking at his cuticles absent-mindedly. Whenever he felt like he was out of control he would chew on his cuticles, his therapist had said it was so he could feel in control but Kit thought that was a ludicrous reasoning because simply put it didn't make him feel even the slightest bit in control of everything, it was just another action his mind was racing over. He nodded to her sentence in agreement. "My own students don't like talking to me, they think a teacher is supposed to be more sociable with his students but I can't bring myself to want to do that." He confessed. He found it weird that he was telling a stranger all of this, believing that his mind is wiring this to be some type of genuine connection.

Kit considered her question for a moment before responding. "I have to numb it, marijuana is the only thing that does that." Truthfully he'd become pretty dependent on the drug despite doing his best not to. He didn't want to be addicted to it but when he is lying awake at three am and there is no sign of sleep in sight he will do what he has to in order for some type of relief. If his students, father, or anyone who lived around him smelled it's typical smell then they chose to say nothing. "And you?" He asked, looking at her again. "If your mind is anything like mine then you must have a way to quiet it."

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

Open Starter

Astrid felt her heart jump into her throat as she’d walked into the conversation. She almost didn’t want to believe what she’d heard. “Is that true?” she asked him. Her boyfriend wasn’t supposed to lie, right? “Am I a fucking bet?”

dxrlingdevils​:

“Oh obviously. It wasn’t planned, a few of the lads from work dragged me out, otherwise you know I would have had you by myside causing mayhem and destruction.” Liam didn’t have it in him to put any more enthusiasm behind his words, if anything it came out as more of a groan. “Wait, you were supposed to have done the shopping yesterday?” His brows furrowed as he attempted to remember only to groan in pain as his head throbbed.

“I mean, that’s what you say but I mean you could have called me.” Becca replied, looking at him, still unimpressed. It didn’t actually bother her he had gone out without her, but it was fun to make him think so. “We’re not talking about what I did or what I didn’t do Liam, we are talking about me needing Fruit Loops, oh and those cute mini marshmallows that you put in my hot chocolate,” Becca stated before placing her bowl on the table and reaching over for the spare pillow that the male had been trying to find.

Kai saw red.

One second, he was watching Pia put on a damn show, her every move calculated to get under his skin. The next, some guy was pulling her in, pressing his lips against hers like he had any damn right.

Before he even processed it, Kai was moving. He wasn’t the type to make a scene—well, not really—but this? This was a fucking joke. His fist connected with the guy’s jaw in a clean, sharp punch, sending him stumbling back. The music didn’t even drown out the collective gasps around them, but Kai didn’t care. His knuckles ached, his pulse hammered in his ears, and his sharp gaze cut to Pia before she could react.

“Enough.” His voice was low, firm, leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, he grabbed her wrist, his grip possessive but not painful, and pulled her through the sea of bodies. He didn’t stop until the cool night air hit them, the bass from inside now a distant thrum behind the slam of the door.

He finally let go of her hand, dragging a rough hand through his dark hair as he took a deep breath, trying to rein himself in. His knuckles stung, but he didn’t care. He turned to face her, his stormy eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of frustration, heat, and something deeper he wasn’t ready to name.

“You wanna play games? Fine. But don’t expect me to just stand there while some asshole puts his hands on you like that.” His voice was rough, his usual teasing edge nowhere to be found.

He stepped closer, towering over her slightly, his jaw clenched. “Tell me you didn’t want me to do that,” he challenged, searching her expression, daring her to lie.

to say that pia had never experienced this kind of tension was an understatement. the level in which they were meticulously taking a step ahead before the other caught up to them. she didn't really want to dance, especially with this guy but at the same time was she going to let kai have the satisfaction of knowing that he was getting to her? oh, absolutely not.

she rolled her hips, shifting her body so she was now facing away from him as she shifted in a way she was sure was going to get a physical reaction from her dance partner any second now. she effortlessly moved so she was all the way down to the floor and then glided her way back up, extending her long legs to standing as she wrapped her arms around the male's neck.

she was aware what he was doing, and if she would let her guard down and the true emotions spill out it would show she was quite irritated in that moment. the fact that this girl in his grip was so gorgeous, and peppy, and obviously completely intoxicated by him. did she wish it was her? of course she did.

she knew this wasn't very healthy behaviour, acting in this way of one upping another. and yet she couldn't stop herself so she shifted her head to whisper into this guys ear and he began pressing kisses to her neck as he tucked her hair behind her ear.

for a moment she could pretend it was kai, and block out the rest of the world but her eyes bounced back to him with this glitter in her orbs like she was trying to prove something and bit her lip. this guy was obviously feeling ballsy and pulled her in for a kiss, admitedly his lips didn't taste like the ghost of a cigarette and liquor but she welcomed it for the purpose of this game.

ofblcssxms​:

Ivan knew before the blonde even walked in the room that he would be greeted by a snarky comment. The woman was too predictable. Though, nevertheless, a smirk crossed his face. “I am good at this. They don’t usually fight back.” He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the counter with a light groan. Thankfully it had just been his face in the cross fire. Ivan knew the damage a pair of knuckle dusters could do in the wrong hands, or even the right ones for that matter. Had they have gone for the ribs, he may have a fractured bone or two, putting the rest of his contracts in jeopardy. “Someone must have tipped him off, he knew I was coming.” Ivan mused, hissing as she began to work on the stitches. Eyes rolled in response to her quip, a hand then moving to lie flat over his chest. “You wound me, dear..” The pet name was one that he used often for the woman, perhaps even more so than her actual name.

Elsie tried to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips. “I’m not sure I believe you. I mean, I thought the big bad Ivan could handle anything. And now I find out you can only deal with them if they come willingly.” She whistled, shaking her head. Honestly, she still found him impressive. She knew personally the type of people they dealt with and for the male to come away with just a cut and a few grazes was admirable. “ублюдки.” The blonde muttered as she continued to work away at his stitches. A grin broke across her face as he pretended to be hurt by her words. “Don’t act like you have a heart.” She quipped back, pausing briefly as she looked up, winking at him. “и сделано”

"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."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he felt her trembling again, her body betraying her no matter how hard she tried to fight it. “Fuck, Pia,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, but there was something else there too—something more satisfied. “So sensitive.”

He watched her struggle to keep quiet, the way she bit her lip so hard it had to hurt. Like she actually thought she could control it. Like she thought he wouldn’t notice the way her body tightened around him, how she was already so far gone again.

Kai's hands slid over her thighs, slow and deliberate, just to feel the way she shuddered under his touch. “You’re really trying, huh?” he teased, fingers brushing up her spine before gripping her waist, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. “But I can still hear you.” His grip softened as she trembled against him, his fingers still stroking her gently, drawing out every last aftershock until she finally slumped forward, breathless, still pressed so perfectly into his lap like she wasn’t planning on moving any time soon.

well it was a good thing that no one could hear her, because with the way she felt so sensitive that they'd been together moments prior it didn't take long before she felt her legs trembling again. knowing exactly how to torment her at her most sensitive areas was a little unfair because she was desperate to feel that eruption again.

so she worked with him, angling her arm above the seat to have a better grip and it was a matter of seconds before she felt it again. this time it felt even better and came on so swiftly she felt her whole body contract with tingles.

she was sinking her teeth into her lower lip as to stop the flow of moans that were trying desperately to escape and eventually a few did slip when she wasn't focused so hard on it.

god, now she felt even more embarassed how she was just so needy for him seconds before. how she was still happily in his lap like he was going to tend to her every need all evening.