#ofinfinitedreams

[isles-of-man]

Tristan's heart beat like a war drum as he watched Guinevere move through the forest clearing, her fingers trailing against rough bark and soft moss with equal reverence. He should not be here, following her like a shadow, but Arthur's growing duties had left her wandering alone too often. The forest was not safe, he told himself; a flimsy excuse that tasted like ash on his tongue. The truth was simpler and far more dangerous: in her presence, the constant weight of battle memories lifted from his shoulders. She moved like the forest itself, wild, unpredictable, alive and something in him responded to that wildness with quiet yearning. He cared for her, too.

"What brings you so far from camp alone?" he asked softly, watching as she turned, unsurprised by his presence. Perhaps she had known he was there all along."I mean no insult," Tristan added quickly, leaning against a nearby tree trunk. "I know well that you can defend yourself better than most men." He allowed himself a small smile, remembering how she had dispatched Saxon warriors with deadly precision. “Arthur worries over you. I think he has no reason to be…you are fiercer than I think he cares to admit.”

"May I join you?"

@ofinfinitedreams

[dirtyauthority]

closed starter for @ofinfinitedreams

the apartment was loud in the way only a half-drunk crowd could manage — music thudding through the walls, voices overlapping, laughter spilling into the hallway. xander hovered in the kitchen long enough to make it look like he was engaged in conversation, but his attention kept drifting.

willow hadn’t been part of the chaos all night.

eventually, curiosity won out.

he slipped down the hallway, nudging her door open without knocking, already smirking like he knew he was being intrusive. “wow,” xander drawled, stepping inside, “and here i thought we were hosting a party, not a one-woman silent retreat.”

his gaze flicked to her at the desk, then casually around the room before he made himself comfortable — hopping up onto her bed like he belonged there, because, technically, he did. he leaned back on his hands, crossing one ankle over the other, posture loose and easy.

“you always bail when things get fun,” he added lightly. “or am i just not your favorite roommate tonight?”

a beat.

“dhara’s out there absolutely thriving,” he said, tone neutral but eyes sharp, watching her reaction. “figured i’d come check if you were plotting my downfall in here or something.”

his lips twitched.

“so,” he continued, tilting his head, studying her in that lazy, observant way of his, “what’s the excuse? social battery dead, or am i missing something interesting?”

he let the silence stretch just long enough to feel intentional before softening his voice, just a touch.

“i can be very convincing if bribery is required.”

[smiitten]

@ofinfinitedreams asked : ❛ look at me . ❜ [summer to logan]

" i can't look at you. i won't. because we both know that if i look at you, look into your eyes, there is no way that i'll be able to stay no. " because he's never been able to say no to her when she gives him that look. when her eyes linger on him, he melts like putty in her hand and he's trying desperately to be resolute and strong. strength that was currently wavering.

[wrldofmyown]

@ofinfinitedreams asked: My muse absentmindedly plays with your muse’s fingers while they talk, not even realizing they’re doing it. [Summer and Xander]

Xander wasn't sure how they had managed to pull this off. He had been seeing Summer, unbeknownst to his brother Theo, for a handful of months know. He had visited her a couple of times but mostly... he bought her transportation to the city, he liked having her home. Seeing how massive his shirts looked on her was one of his favorite things.

As he brought up how there was an upcoming trip he had to go on, he noticed her being quiet and shortly after, saw the way she played with his fingers. His other hand softly caressed her legs in an up and down soothing motion since they were draped over his lap. "Everything alright, love?" The Englishman asked, tilting his head slightly.

[deviiates]

@ofinfinitedreams asked : “ are we arguing or flirting right now? i can’t tell. ” Violet to Maxwell

" i don't know really, but it's fucking invigorating, isn't it? " maxwell joked as he lingered right in her face. he was uncertain what this tension between the two of them meant, but he wasn't about to be the first one to blink. not when he could hold serve and see if she would waver first. " which do you want it to be? "

[viceessence]

closed starter for @ofinfinitedreams

Rhythmic neon lights that matched the music of the club were spread all over, highlighting faces & movements. The first show had ended with a thunderous round of applauses & constant whistling from the crowd. Behind the large & extravagant scenario was the backstage room, where all the ladies were dressed & prepared. The air was thick with perfume & chatter, sequins glinting under vanity lights as laughter mixed with the muffled bass from outside.

Polly spent a large amount of time there, given that she was the most requested lady in the club. Every brushstroke, every sparkle, every slow adjustment of fabric mattered. She knew eyes waited for her, & she intended to make them remember why. Her gaze drifted toward her coworker & friend, Isa, who was sitting beside her, adjusting the strap of her costume with practiced ease.

"Ready for tonight, Isa? I think we're going to make them go wild," Polly mused, her tone playful yet confident. Her fingertips tapped lightly against her cheek, careful not to smudge the pink hue of blush she’d just applied.

[tellerrides]

— @ofinfinitedreams liked for a starter. ♥

Jax leaned back in his chair at the clubhouse, the faint clink of ice in his whiskey glass echoing in the room as he considered his next move. The club needed leverage—something legit enough to keep the cops off their backs but profitable enough to funnel cash where it really mattered. His mind turned over the possibilities, but one idea kept coming back to him: brothels. Prostitution. A business that could work both sides of the law, if handled right. Word on the street had led him to her—a mistress, the owner of a successful establishment with connections he could only admire. Jax respected someone who built their own empire, especially in a world as unforgiving as hers. He’d done his homework, of course. He wasn’t about to walk into this blind. She had a reputation for being sharp, shrewd, and not someone to cross lightly. That was fine. Jax wasn’t looking to cross her; he was looking to work with her.

It didn’t take him long to track her down—her business had a way of staying just visible enough for the right people to find it. Jax’s confidence didn’t waver as he made his way there, the rumble of his bike cutting through the air like a warning. This wasn’t just about money; it was about control, alliances, and making sure the club stayed one step ahead of anyone trying to put them in a cage. When he arrived, Jax didn’t waste time with theatrics. He pushed open the heavy doors, his stride casual but purposeful as he entered the building. The place was polished, tasteful, but it carried an edge—just like the woman who owned it. His eyes scanned the room briefly before they landed on her, and he allowed himself the faintest smirk.

She didn’t look like someone who’d be easy to convince, but that was fine. Jax Teller never backed away from a challenge. As he approached, he tucked his hands into his pockets, his leather kutte shifting slightly with the movement. "Word is you know how to run a business," he said, his voice low and steady, carrying just enough charm to keep it disarming. "And I’ve got a proposition I think you’re gonna want to hear." Jax didn’t wait for an invitation to sit. He pulled up a chair, leaning forward slightly as his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers. "I’m looking for a partner. Someone who knows the ropes, knows how to keep things clean on the surface but profitable underneath." He paused, the smirk returning to his lips.

[musingcyril]

Walking into the spacious back garden he found himself in front of a family he had not seen in the last year; a promise that he would only attend these one-year events on the term that he not be forced to come by for Christmas or any other day. He had a thing about families particularly his own. His parents had split; in his late teens while he was attending university in Ireland and then was asked to meet in London where his family had planned a surprise wedding. His dear father had married another woman with a daughter of her own who was nearly his own age.

They had not gone along well, both only children were now forced to be step-siblings. They had only seen each other for a year or two before he had lost contact to focus on his career but now he was greeted with the sight of his step-sister who seemed equally “thrilled’ as he was.

“Well well well ...” he greeted, snatching a glass from a serving table and walking up to his step-sister and smiling before he drank from his glass. “How are we?” he asked, putting on the face and using pleasantries before he was given a dark glare from his father to avoid the bickering wars of the previous years. Cyril had promised not to make any promises of any sort but remained civil. “still working the same old job?”

"Dad says so" he quickly mentioned, taking another sip and watching his dad give him a look that made with put his hands up in a surrender position and sat back in his chair before he turned his attention back to her.

@ofinfinitedreams