#parieurs

[wellfell]

 it's a luxurious cafe in the middle of a mall that akina wouldn't even dream about coming to , after she lost every single penny to her father's name anyway — his demise gifted her her freedom , could she really ask for anything else ? the cafe serves her tiramisu in a black plate , the waiter wants to say something but she waves him off and takes a sip from her milkshake . ❛ alright alright . another question . ❜  one long finger points at them , waves between them gently before she takes her fork ; they seem so done with her , fidgeting , looking up in worry when she talks a bit loudly . cuties . ❛ have you two fucked at some point too ? ❜

  * @flmed / @parieur ; ily guys . (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

#flmed #parieur #hi guys ... #god i'm sorry i just #jdksla sillies .

[bu11seye]

she presses her hand against the horse's muzzle , immediately being met with the snout of the steed . gentle touches move along the nose of the horse , letting her gloved fingertips move over the white patch between large eyes . " looks tired , " she states , tilting her head as she continues to pet the black coat of five of diamonds without another word . when she was with horses, not much else mattered than the call at hand.

jessie's emerald gaze tints with worry as she recalls the phone call relayed to her through her device about a once lively horse gone docile within the past few weeks. the redhead knew the status of this patient , and how his horses are his prized possessions and have been through the family . jessie's business she works with has been one of his closest contenders and worked with @parieur 's stable hand for as long as she's been in business. a valued customer, and one where jessie just wants all the animals to be happy, healthy, and lively.

jessie pulls out her stethoscope , pressing it to the undercarriage of the horse's body, listening to his breathing and his heartbeat. the slow drum doesn't show that it's going to stop any time soon, but running for now might be difficult if marc is going for long and extravagant trips one after the other . pulling the stethoscope from the horse , she wraps it around the back of her neck, letting her braid fall on her shoulder .

" he's gonna be okay! " she smiles softly , reaching to slide her gloves off . " just be careful when riding him , he's not as young as he used t'be so long rides will wind him if not properly able t'wind down. " older horses that were once race or show horses feel aging much harder due to the adjustment period . " i promise you that your lil baby is a-okay!" there's a pause , crossing her arms over her chest with a grin. " i wanted t'ask ya, are you still showing? it's been awhile since i been to a show and wanted to get back int'a the scene . "

#hope this okay :] #parieur #♡゙ : in character 𓈒 ୨୧ ⌇﹒— ( threads ) .

[wolfehunt]

LE CHIFFRE : " m'not livin' n'the fuckin' city, chiff. " irritable tone bites on her tongue as she lifted her glare from her phone to her . . . boyfriend ? baby - daddy ? jesus christ, what she wouldn't give for a stiff drink. whatever marcel is to her now, it's not enough to change her mind. tossing her cell aside, she crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at him with stubborn petulance. " i'd kill m'self in a week. " if that. disgust settles on the curl of her lip. she's pissed, and tired, and her constant craving's are driving her up the fucking wall. it wasn't this bad with parker this early on. and naturally, she's gonna take it out on @parieur. it's his fault, after all.

#& in ‚ storyline. #& arc ‚ don't blame me. #& ft ‚ parieur. #i already wrote u a starter but #i wanted to write another one so #eh #also wanted to the icon #bc she's extra hot in the glasses yk

[thefixeraa]

... starter call , @parieur : accepting .

a cool demeanor , a nonchalant air ... chaos thrived in these tense moments , and yet it doesn't seem to bother her at all . the fixer felt more at home here among the stress and uncertainty . she was always used to the way change comes with time ( as opposed to the other party , who can't deal with the slightest inconvenience . ) whether it put her in a good or bad position , it was mia's ability to stay on her feet at all times and always , BE ONE STEP AHEAD OF EVERYONE ELSE . it figures a man so rigid and by the books , could not afford for anything to go ass up . everything needed to be perfect , even if it wasn't . mia's duffle bad sildes off her shoulder , and in it goes into the trunk with an audible thump . head bobs along with his words ( she sniffs the air and all she could smell was the coming storm . BLOOD WAS SURE TO BE SPILLED . )

mia goes to shove her duffle bag further into the trunk of the car . when the gps was put into her view , " no roads and armed men , in the ass end of where ever the fuck we are ? " her head nods off to the side and then chuckles , " sounds like a fuckin' party . " her body straightens and leans against the car , the seriousness that pertains to this job is quite evident in marcel's voice . " can't forget the reason why you dragged my ass outta bed , just to cover yours . " naturally the little jab is said with humorous intent , becuase it can't always just be serious . which will be expertly protected while she was there , so he needn't worry too much about it . plus ... SHE'S HERE TO LIGHTEN THE LOAD . " is there any particular group of people i have to worry about more ? "

#parieur #* in chara ‚ thread ... // parieur . #i told you i was just going to copy and paste what we had in our discord thread #the one you never answered cause you forgot #you don't get a new thread until you actually answer things! #consistency my dear #this is what i thrive on <3 #love ya

[thefixer]

He had far more interesting dates in mind when came to Mia, far more meaningful ones between the two of them, but when the world held February 14th as such a symbol of love, how could he ignore to show it to her as well? [ Marcel knew, after all, that she liked little celebrations ]. He had left the table saying he would get ready for the day, but came back a couple minutes after, hands behind back, poorly hiding the rectangular large wooden box, and the Artemis terracotta antefix within. She wasn't the simplest woman to pick gifts for. ❛❛  You know I usually get things you can wear, but I thought maybe something for your collections would be better this time.  ❜❜ The box was set on the table in front of her, lips formed a grin. ❛❛  <<Happy valentine's day, Minette. >> ❜❜

valentines day ...      one of those holiday's that ought to be forgotten instead of celebrated .   a hallmark holiday marketed solely for sappy ,   idiot couples and a reminder to the loner that they are ,   in fact alone   (   showing one's love for another should be shown everyday ,   not just on a fixed date .   )   mia didn't particularly follow valentine's day because she remained single for so long .   however she came around to the idea of it slowly even though she expressed her love freely when around marcel .   he knew she wasn't that much of a fan but still somehow made it a special day anyway .   she figured out eventually that he was more sentimental to things than he let's on .   which of course she found endearing ,   much like the many other qualities about him that makes him uniquely special .   

his gifts were always special and they weren't just a pair of earrings or a bracelet .   marcel would always go above and beyond with his gifts because he knew she wasn't an ordinary woman .   when he walked back into their kitchen with a large box ,   after he had just left to get ready .   she knew she was in for a treat ,   and boy was she .   inside of the box something not only rare but something really meaningful .   something that tickled a part of her personality that he knew he should nurture rather than shun .   mia's eyes grew wide while the tips of her finger's run over the face of artemis ,   and a wide smile forms on her lips .   " oh you've done good , "   she says before her lips part into a grin and she looks up at him .   " you've done real good , "   she adds before pulling him down by robe and planting a kiss on his lips .

#parieur #* in chara . / answered . #dfsjhldkfjh this be very emo #he knows he interests and elevates his gifts because of her #love than for them #<3 <3 <3

[americanedpsycho]

❛  y’know,  sean  and  i  used  to  sit  outside  for  hours  discussing  what  you  did  for  a  living.  ❜    less  than  twenty-four  hours  working  for  @parieur,  he  is  both  impressed  and  uncertain  of  the  true  intentions  behind  this.  he  was  never  meant  for  the  dull  life  that  wall  street  in  new  york  promised  him  ⸻  something  he  always  wanted,  a  last  attempt  to  screw  over  his  father  but  it  didn’t  end  that  way.  ❛  sean  was  convinced  you  worked  for  some  type  of  government,  ❜  a  silly,  silly  idea  but  their  imagination  was  a  little  over  active.  ❛  we  used  to  make  up  stories  and  act  them  out,  that’s  why  sean  got  stuck  in  a  tree  for  three  hours.  stupid,  huh?  ❜  his  hands  rub  at  the  back  of  his  neck,  his  expression  softening.  his  xanax  was  working  to  an  extent,  he  promises  to  himself  that  he  will  sleep  more.  ❛  i  promise  i  won’t  …  uh,  fuck  up.  i  appreciate  that  you  kept  my  college  secret.  even  when  we  don’t  see  eye  to  eye  at  times,  but  …  yeah.  ❜  no  doubt  that  he  knows  more  of  his  murderous  hobby  …  there  is  no  room  for  secrets  anymore.  ❛  are  you  going  to  …  make  fun  of  me?    ❜    the  switch  of  paranoia  flicks, narrowing  his  eyes.

#╰ ‘ private verse › #parieur #the way he was lik eYEHA LEMME HAVE ATTENTION. #he was normal for 5 seconds

[flmed]

incorrect quotes featuring @parieur

#parieur. #JUST TWO BROS. #q.

[cartelheir]

❣

3 pros & 3 cons of dating pat

pros :

pat's the kind of girlfriend who doesn't have to be asked to do nice gestures of affection to a partner, such as bringing them coffee or food or helping them out with a task to get some work off their back.

i guess this can be a pro or a con depending on the other person, but she wants to have children. although strict and bossy, she'll definitely be a loving mother.

she always remembers birthdays and important dates, even with a very busy schedule.

cons :

she's high maintenance as fuck. if you're looking for a chill, low-effort relationship, pat's not the woman for you. this is good because she actually puts effort into the relationship, but she'll very easily be frustrated if she feels like her partner is getting lazy.

she's a very confrontational person, and she can't stand it when someone is clearly just agreeing with what she says to avoid conflict. she'd rather fight everyday with someone who faces her head-on than deal with a pushover.

she'll absolutely cheat if she's unhappy or bored in the relationship. also, if you break up after a fight and she sleeps with someone else a day later she doesn't consider it cheating lmao (even if she would be upset if this was done to her).

#parieur #ross from friends going “WE WERE ON A BREAK” playing on a loop in my head rn #𝐡𝐜 . ❛ sangre por sangre. ❜

[khrused]

soft details for smut & intimate moments: [ 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝚁 ] 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛.

gasps entangle with the tender moans of a rippling mattress ────── needy hands clawing at his back, desperate to hold him closer... she loves the sound of his breath, his fingers twisting into the downy pillow besides her head, ravenous and greedy as he dives into her depths as if to fill her whole. legs lift to wrap about his waist, the calculated rise of her hips sinking him even deeper into the tight heat of her sex. she knows what's to come next ― has memorized the meanings of his every quiver and how best to mind them...

fingers slither up his back and to his hair, twisting in ashen locks to lift his head from the sweet comfort of her skin ― eager to watch @parieur unravel above her, drawing him to her lips as he finishes with a series of steady and swift thrusts, tightening her grasp as she allows herself to succumb to the final strokes of his rhythm... head falls back with a breathless moan, melting back into silken sheets as he collapses atop her like thawing snow. tired arms snake about his shoulders, cradling him against warm sun-kissed skin while loving fingertips trace along the nape of his neck, savoring the sultry tickle of his breath with a satisfied hum.

nose nuzzles into a tuft of ashen hair, eyes fluttering to a close as she listens to the harmony of their labored breathes, finding a sense of peace in the feel of his chest expanding atop her own. she won't admit it, not yet ― but she's missed the stillness... the tranquility of moments just like this : just heat and sweat ― and the sound of his breath...

#parieur #𝐈𝐈𝐈. answered ( . . . ) sweet as cherry wine. #𝐈𝐈. in character ( . . . ) and her tongue so mean. #uwu softttt #//nsfw

[americanedpsychoarchived]

❛  if  i  agree  to  this  …  how  will  it  benefit  it  me?  ❜  henry  bateman,  patrick’s  father  has  finally  been  buried  into  the  wet,  dirty  ground  that  people  will  consider  a  grave.  now,  he  is  in  charge  of  pierce  &  pierce  which  should  be  a  proud  badge,  something  he  has  been  craving  for  years  …    he  doesn’t  want  that  responsibility  as  such.  ❛  i  don’t  want  to  say  how  much  the  company  is  worth  …  but  i  can  invest.    ❜  he  pushes  his  business  card  to  the  man  before  leaning  back  in  his  chair  with  a  serious  look  on  his  face.

@parieur liked for a starter !!

#parieur #i hope this is okay my love <33

[abusedog]

[ TXT 📲 LeShuffle ] so [ TXT 📲 LeShuffle ] how's the fancy poker game going ?

@parieur // text from rome

#* threads. #&. lechiffre. #parieur #I AM SO SORRY FOR HIM HE TAKES NOTHING SERIOUSLY

[crimeloyalty-arch]

has there ever been a time where they feared for their life?  why?

harleen’s seven years old, locked in a bathroom. there's a box of poptarts on the towel rack, twelve foil packages inside. eleven foil packages inside. ten foil packages inside. she read about rationing in one of her school books, and now she pretends like she's traveling the oregon trail.  nine foil packages -- they’ll resupply in the morning,  once the horses are fed and watered.  eight foil packages -- the store’s just down the trail.  seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . nick quinzel doesn’t get home until there’s just half a poptart left in the box -- he left harleen in there for four days. that’s the first time harleen quinzel thinks she’s going to die. 

she’s thirteen, in her bedroom,  tucked in the small gap between the bed and the wall.  there’s a landline on the wall opposite her bed,  but she can’t reach it without somebody seeing her.  even then,  there’s no guarantee it works -- nick’s so bad at remembering to pay the bills,  squandering all his money on poker & alcohol instead. there are men in her apartment,  yelling men,  men with guns,  and they’re angry with her father.  she closes her eyes,  counts every shaky breath,  prays that they won’t hear her.  prays that they’ll kill her dad. she could drop out of school,  get a job,  pay rent.  it’s gotham -- nobody’d notice that she was only thirteen.  nobody’d notice that she was alone.  someone fires their gun,  a warning shot,  and it goes through the wall three feet to the left of harleen’s head.  she doesn’t make a sound.  that’s the second time harleen quinzel thinks she’s going to die. 

she’s fifteen,  in her bedroom again.  nick is screaming at her,  stepping closer and closer.  her back’s to the wall;  she can’t get any further away from him.  he punches a hole in the drywall to the left of her head.  she notices with a detached sense of curiosity that the drywall crumbles directly to the left of the bullet hole that her father’d never bothered to patch.  nick’s never hit her before,  but she thinks tonight might just be the night.  she can smell the alcohol on his breath,  shuts her eyes,  and starts counting to a hundred.  she’s supposed to graduate high school in three months -- she’s so close to getting out.  she can’t die now -- not when she’s fought this hard to get away from him.  harleen quinzel doesn’t believe in god ( not her mother’s,  not her father’s ),  but she sends up a prayer to the universe to get her out of this,  because this is the third time harleen quinzel thinks she’s going to die.

she’s twenty-seven,  walking home from a bar,  not drunk enough to have forgotten the disastrous pitch she’d given on her research earlier that day.  she’s so caught up in her misery that she almost doesn’t see him until it’s too late -- the joker,  then a huge explosion.  harleen tucks herself against a brick wall,  trying to shield herself from the flames,  and joker points a gun at her head.  her life flashes before her life,  and harleen wonders what it’s all been for.  joker doesn’t pull the trigger,  but it’s the fourth time harleen quinzel thinks she’s going to die. 

she’s still twenty-seven,  working at arkham,  treating the man who tried to kill her two months ago.  he won’t talk to her,  so she takes a risk.  she lets him out of his straitjacket,  trying to prove that she’s not like the rest of his doctors -- that she actually believes that he can get better.  before she knows it,  the joker’s arms are wrapped around her.  harleen holds her breath,  terrified that he’s about to snap her neck.  it’s the fifth time harleen quinzel thinks she’s going to die,  but all joker does is hold her. 

she’s twenty-seven and arkham asylum’s on fire.  all the patients are roaming the halls,  set free by harvey dent -- by two face.  harleen’s former patients are out for blood,  and killer croc charges at her.  for once,  harleen doesn’t close her eyes. if this is the end for her,  she wants to watch as waylon’s teeth close around her. that’s not what she sees,  though.  she sees pamela isley,  shrouded in light.  an angel,  here to save harley.  “ you’re only truly saved if you leave this place, ”  she says,  but harleen’s not listening,  because that was number six,  and because she has to find joker before it’s too late. 

she’s twenty-seven and she’s found joker,  but harvey dent’s found her,  too.  he blames her in part for what happened to him -- hates her for believing that these criminals can change.  he lifts his gun,  prepared to shoot her in the head,  when joker swoops in.  he bashes in the good side of dent’s face,  only stopping when harleen grabs his arm.  when he looks at her,  she sees something in his eyes that she’s seen only once before -- the monster.  that’s seven . . . and it’s eight. 

she’s twenty-seven,  but she feels like she’s aged ten years in the past hour.  she’s begging joker to stay,  to turn himself in,  to continue treatment with her. she can help him,  she says.  they’re interrupted by a security guard -- one harleen knows well.  he points a gun at j,  refuses to let the murderer leave arkham.  harleen picks up dent’s gun,  points it at the guard.  she doesn’t mean to pull the trigger -- only means to stop him long enough to reason with him.  but harley’s never held a gun before . . . doesn’t know how easy it is to accidentally pull the trigger.  her hands shake,  her finger slips.  bam !  her friend is dead on the ground,  her gun smoking.  she can’t let go of the gun, because she’s just killed another human being,  because the only thing left for her to do now is kill herself. that’s nine. 

she’s twenty-seven,  and she doesn’t remember leaving arkham.  harley  only remembers a fit of laughter,  only remembers letting joker pull her into his arms.  only remembers a bloody,  desperate kiss.  the days after that run together -- they hole up at amusement mile,  make a bed in the abandoned tunnel of love.  it’s good.  harley’s happy,  as long as she doesn’t think about anything that’s happened.  as long as she doesn’t think about how she’s a murderer under a murderer.  things crumble slowly,  then all at once.  she’s making him walk with her around the fairground,  trying to stretch his muscles,  encourage his body to heal.  she talks while they walk,  doesn’t realize he’s not talking back.  joker comes to a stop by the old ferris wheel,  baskets swinging wildly in the wind.  he grabs her by the throat,  lifts her up,  presses her back into the rotting wood. she feels the splinters drive themselves through her shirt into her back.  “ shut, ” joker growls, “ up. ”  he doesn’t drop her until her vision starts to go black.  that’s ten. 

she's twenty-seven. she's twenty-seven. she's twenty-seven. she's twenty-seven. she's twenty-seven. she's twenty-seven.  she's twenty-seven. she's twenty-seven. she's twenty-seven. she's twenty-seven. she’s twenty-eight. she’s twenty-eight.  she’s twenty-eight. she’s twenty-eight.  she’s twenty-eight. she’s twenty-eight.  she’s twenty-eight. she’s twenty-eight.  she’s twenty-eight. she’s twenty-eight.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  she’s twenty-nine.  

harley quinn stops counting. 

#parieur #�� i rewind the tape but all it does is pause — writing. #⸻ i haven’t met the new me yet — headcanons. #ty for sending this ! #abuse / #suicide / #all panels r from harleen cause it's my everything

[crimewriter]

META   +  Food pra pat!

It shouldn't come as a surprise that Pat's favorite cuisine (as well as the only one she really knows how to cook) is Mexican. Street elotes, pork pozole, birria tacos, chiles rellenos, and aguachile are some of her favorite dishes. She enjoys some spice in her food and definitely would have trouble cooking for someone who can't handle spicy food at all (not that she cooks very often, but sometimes the mood strikes her).

In a general sense, food can be a bit of a source of stress for Pat, because she often worries about gaining weight. It's not that she won't ever treat herself, but on the day to day you'll most likely catch her eating salads, or even ordering something nice but otherwise bland at a restaurant, like the smoked salmon with green beans instead of the penne alla vodka she actually wanted.

But when she's feeling really stressed, that's when the greasy food comes in. She'll be craving burgers and pizza and chocolate and, of course, the extra cheesy quesadillas her dad used to make like crazy. Indulging obviously results on more stress as she works out extra hard to make up for it.

As for desserts, her favorites are churros, tiramisù, or just anything chocolate. She doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, but definitely loves chocolate. Mexican hot chocolate is also a staple that she often goes to in colder nights when she's craving comfort and childhood nostalgia.

Another detail to finish off is Pat will rarely refuse food that's offered to her, specially if it's from a different culture/country, unless it's something extremely unusual. She just finds it disrespectful. She's not much of a picky eater at all and enjoys, or at least tolerates, a variety of cuisines.

#parieur #<3 <3 #patricia carosella.

[thefixeraa]

* @parieur , marcel hardly ever was late , but today was one of those days , the drive to the diamond district taking longer than he had hope . " sorry i'm late , but i had to do something ... " he placed the red large paper bag in front of her , a smile on his face ever since he saw the little thing , a plushy grey seal with stripped belly ( the better choice between a beluga , an octopus and a turtle , ) and decided to buy it . it had been a rocky road before , one that had him holding back for a few months to wait and see , but now that things seemed to have come out on the bright side , it felt appropriate to now start planning ahead . " we don't know what they are yet but , i thought it would be cute regardless . "

it has been a little over three months now , and with the knowledge that her pregnancy was stable and healthy . it was time to look to the future and be joyful . it's been difficult to stay pregnant , despite being fertile and not having any issues to conceive . this whole thing was fairly hard on mia , her mind and body both suffering from the conclusion of a miscarriage . she stayed hopeful ( or at least tried to , ) because these things happen . it's normal : she kept telling herself ... none of that changed the way she felt it difficult to get out of bed or eat . none of that mattered because she still mourned the loss of a potential life .

hand roams over the small swell of her stomach , the thought that life was growing inside of her was ... surreal to say the least . never in her life , and this is very typical of someone who lives the way she has . never did she think that this was possible . the idea alone was farfetched and unreachable - it was crazy to think that anyone , including herself could be a parent . a mother . yes marcel has told her before she'd make a great one , but she didn't believe it ( and often still thinks she wouldn't be . ) maybe that is at best an insecurity , because she would be the first one to tell you she ins't at all confident in this . it's to be expected anyhow , but the thought that all of this was happening , it didn't seem real . it was however , and before she knows it , she'll be kicking and screaming and pushing this child out .

her thoughts are focused to the present , moment she hears the front door open . she blinks as marcel moves through the foyer , the red paper bag is the first thing she notices ... she also knows where that paper bag is from . the logo ' fao schwarz ' centered in the middle , her dark brow arching at him as it is then placed in front of her . offering little explanation , its on her to take a peak on what's inside . she pushes away the thin , white tissue paper and finds the large head of the seal . lifting it out of the bag , her lips pull into a wide closed smile , eyes immediately lighting up . " aww , " she says almost immediately as she holds it out in front of her . " look at this fuckin' thing , " adding to the previous statement . " you sure are preparing this kid for the aquatic life , " which she holds no qualms of , as she is very particular with aquatic mammals herself .

a little giggle is let out as she rounds the long kitchen island and slips her arms around his waist . a small kiss pressed against his lips as for one , a greeting and also as a appreciative gesture . as she pulls away that same smile is fixed on her face , her eyes are pulled up to marcel's as she holds him close . " our baby is going to be so loved knowing it's got you as their father . "

#* in chara . / answered . #parieur #yeah here you are #you are welcome for this #and now i'm emotional #miscarriage tw #miscarriage mention

[thefixer]

  ...    starter call , @parieur  //  no longer accepting .  the salt of the sea ━━━  of the water and air .  the wind blows through her blonde locks as the boat sails steadily beneath her .  she's been on this thing for a while now ...  three weeks or so  (  and honestly she really hasn't spent the time keeping track ,  though headquarters tells her it's april the eighth and she had set sail last month .  )  she's been a good girl ,  a good soldier .  taking this assignment up and sacrificing her own time ,  her energy and not to mention her body to get close to le chiffre .  not to kill him ...  unless there was a pretty damn good excuse to ,  but to just monitor his movement and see what his current activities were .  

don't get close ,  don't be suspicious .  no unnecessary moves that would otherwise blow your cover .  she couldn't do anything even if she knew that people would suffer .  she had a part to play and like we've already established ━━━ ,  she's a good soldier .

her eyes were closed momentarily while focusing on the sounds of the boat pushing through the water .  mia's eyes only open a minute or two later ,  and watches a school of dolphins play in the far distance .  there's a hint of a smile that spreads across these full ,  ruby lips of hers .  it's then that she turns her head to see le chiffre talking with one of his men .  stealing his gaze for a moment before she turns her head back to face the water .  she could imagine what he see's ...  this blonde buxom woman  (  his taste really ...  being french was just a bonus to him .  )  hearing his footsteps come closer ,  a kiss pressed against her forehead ,  making her lean ever so into it .  " arriverons-nous bientôt ? "  she steals his gaze once more ,  " autant j'ai apprécié mon temps sur ton bateau, chérie.  je suis enfermé dans ce bateau depuis trop longtemps. "

#parieur #* in chara ‚ thread ... // parieur . #yes.. yes good <3 #[*] will we be arriving soon? #[**] as much as I've enjoyed my time on your i've been cooped up in this boat for too long.

[resuelta]

quantum verse edits:  ft. @parieur​

#marcel. #parieur #only tagged may reblog.