Jimmy Stood In The Doorway, His Usual Confident Demeanour Softened By Concern As He Looked At Thomas.

amoonlitmemory​:

“Alex, look at me. You’re going to get through this, okay?” Genevieve pulled out the chair next to her brother and took one of his hands into hers, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. In reality she was worried sick for him, this wasn’t something that she could protect him from. It wasn’t like when he was younger and their father got into one of his rages. “I can’t promise you everything is going to be okay little brother, I won’t do that to you. What I will promise is that I’m here for you.”   

Alex looked into Genevieve's eyes, his own filled with a mixture of fear and vulnerability. He shook his head, breaking their connection momentarily, unable to bear the weight of his thoughts. He took a deep breath, gathering the strength to voice his deepest concerns. “I... I'm terrified, Gen," Alex admitted, his voice quivering with emotion. He fought to hold back tears, determined not to crumble in front of his sister “I’m going to die out there. I won’t make it back a second time. I know it and the thought haunts me, it consumes me.” His voice choked with a mix of anguish and desperation, Alex continued, “I don’t want to die-- I’ve seen first hand how it happens. It’s not brave or courageous like they make it sound. It’s painful and it’s lonely. I’ve seen men cry out for their mothers, begging for comfort in their final moments, only to be left behind to die a lonely and miserable death.” As tears streamed down his face, memories played like a relentless reel in his mind. Each image etched deeply into his soul, intensifying his inner turmoil.

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.

Winter rolled her eyes. "Does this mean you're kicking me out?" She asked, raising a brow not even bothering to explain herself.

"You realize that this is considered breaking and entering right? Just because you're my friend doesn't mean you can steal room cards and help yourself to a room for the night."

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. ❞

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.'

She could tell he was angry, but there was little she could do about it. “The owner… or maybe the manager? I’m not entirely sure,” Brooke answered, her voice steady despite the chill in the night air. She fought back a shiver, the thin black dress offering little warmth. “My job is dangerous. I sleep with strangers—this isn’t new to me, Rocco.”

Rocco pressed his lips together in a thin line as he tried to calm down. His dark eyes lingered on Brooke as she spoke. He never said anything about her job, no matter how he felt about it, because in the end, his job was even worse. ❝Who paid for you?❞ he asked between clenched teeth, glancing over his shoulder for a second, then back at Brooke. ❝This place is dangerous and it will get worse in the next few minutes or so.❞

He noticed her—just for a second, and then he couldn't look away. Among the shifting crowd, the flashing cameras, the hum of London life, there she was. A girl clutching a newspaper like it was a lifeline, her eyes wide with something between excitement and panic. Rory had seen that look before, but there was something different about this moment. Maybe it was the way her hands trembled slightly, or the way she seemed to be fighting an internal battle just to say something.

"Alright there?" he said, his voice warm, easy, like he wasn’t the reason her world had just tilted on its axis.

Her lips parted, and for a moment, he thought she might speak. Instead, she let out a tiny, strangled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a hiccup. He couldn’t help but chuckle, not unkindly, just amused, endeared. Something about her was different from the usual faces in the crowd.

"Don't worry, love," he said, still smiling. "I'm not gonna bite."

Closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this:

The air crackled with an almost unbearable electricity. Ember clutched her phone so tightly, her knuckles were turning white. Outside the trendy London cafe, a small crowd had gathered, their whispers a constant hum against the backdrop of city noise. He was in there. Rory Murphy. The one whose voice had soundtracked countless late-night study sessions, whose lyrics had gotten her through heartbreak, whose goofy smile plastered across magazine covers had always managed to brighten her day.

She’d only come for a quick coffee before heading to her internship. Now, armed with a shaky determination fueled by years of fandom, she was lingering, pretending to read a discarded newspaper, hoping, praying, that he’d emerge.

Suddenly, the door swung open. A ripple went through the crowd, cameras were raised, and there he was. Rory. Even more dazzling in real life, if that was even possible. He grinned, a genuine, sunny expression that melted away the London chill. He signed a couple of autographs, politely answered a few shouted questions, and then started to move in her direction.

Her heart leaped into her throat. Her palms were slick. She wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but all that came out was a strangled squeak.

"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?"

Kai exhaled sharply, watching her go with an amused scoff. Oh, she was gonna play it like that? Cute. Real cute.

He leaned back against the wall, taking out another cigarette and lighting it. He took a slow drag of it, pretending he wasn’t watching her the whole damn time. But he was. Of course, he was. He caught the way she wove through the crowd, sliding right back into her world like she hadn’t just been pressed against him, all breathless and wanting.

Then he saw it—the little act she was putting on. The way she leaned into the guy, all soft laughs and delicate touches. Oh, you are such a piece of work, princess. She was doing it on purpose. Not for the other guy. Not for anyone else. For him.

Kai smirked, shaking his head. Fine. If she wanted to play games, he’d play. He took his time finishing his cigarette, flicking the ashes to the ground before making his way back inside, shoulders loose, expression unreadable.

He didn’t go to her—no, that would be too easy. Instead, he slid into a booth near the bar, his arm draping over the back of the seat as he flagged down a server for another drink. He made sure he was in her line of sight, made sure she knew he was watching, but made no move to approach.

Let her have her fun. Let her think she had the upper hand.

it's like she was in a hypnotic state, her hues gazing up into his own. he was a fair amount taller than her, but not enough in her heeled boots than it was difficult for her to capture his lips, she just needed to crane her neck a fraction. of course she felt the spark, the fire that was uncontrollable whenever they touched but she was not about to give him the satisfaction of caving to her desires once more. the fact that he'd pulled her back, the way it which he tugged at her wrist she felt this rush as their bodies were reunited. every guy she'd dated had been afraid of her, intimidated in a way or the other way and just wary that she could break like she was this fragile little doll. it occurred to her this was not the case with kai, he didn't care about her name, well.. he didn't to a point because his assumptions and preconceptions were the start of this lovely interaction which led them to here and now.

"maybe. or it might just be because i didn't enjoy it, glad it was over actually."

oh she was suchhhh a liar but she couldn't help it, because giving him what he wanted was the last thing she intended to do right now and she was digging her heels in about it. she turned on her heel to to back inside now that he had released his grip and reunited with her friends once more. they were playing a game of pool and she was somewhat interested to see who was winning. the tabloids on more than one occasion had caught photos of her and her close friend vince and the specultated they were dating however she had always denied it.

in this case she saw it as a golden opportunity to show a side of herself that would catch kai's attention even if he didn't outwardly admit it. she was leaning into the compliments a little more this time, giggling a way as she grazed her hand up his arm, a smirk curving over her glossy lips.

amoonlitmemory​:

Status: Closed @littledaydreamers​

Location:  Tavern

“I’d think twice about releasing me. That is if you had any intention of keeping your hand” Kennedy hissed her threat to the stranger as she attempted to loosen his grip on her whilst trying not to draw attention to them. Her hand drifted to her hip where her small blade was usually hidden, only to find it missing and her heart to lurch. She had only wanted to have a quiet drink, hoping to over hear any information on the new arrivals, though this time it appeared that she had made the mistake of listening in on the wrong people and they hadn’t been as drunk and unobservant as she had originally thought.

Jacob stood at a nearby table, observing the tense situation unfolding before him. His eyes darted between Kennedy and the stranger, analysing their body language and trying to assess the best course of action. He had seen Kennedy at the tavern before, a tough and independent woman who seemed to be able to handle herself in most situations. However, it was clear that she was in a vulnerable position now. His instinct to help kicked in, and he quickly made his way over to Kennedy, trying to keep a calm demeanour. He approached from the side, not wanting to startle either of them further. As he got closer, he spoke in a low voice, "Hey, is everything alright here?" The stranger, taken aback by Jacob's unexpected intervention, loosened his grip slightly. Jacob stood tall, positioning himself between Kennedy and the stranger, projecting an air of confidence. He maintained eye contact with the stranger, subtly conveying that he wouldn't tolerate any further aggression. "I suggest you walk away now," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. The stranger hesitated, his gaze shifting between Jacob and Kennedy. Sensing the mounting tension, he finally decided to retreat, his pride wounded but realizing the situation was no longer in his favour. With one last lingering look, he turned and disappeared into the crowd. Jacob turned his attention to Kennedy, offering her a reassuring smile. "Are you alright?" he asked gently, concern evident in his voice.