#munofmanyminds

[loveisliquor]

@munofmanyminds

The room is spinning. Before, when she'd been dancing-- the spinning made sense. but now, she's standing still, and leaning against a bathroom counter covered in a light dusting of cocaine. She dials Roman's number from memory, her hand shaking slightly as she squints at the too bright screen. "Ro--" she hiccups softly, when she realises he's picked up. "Please don't be mad--" her voice is soft but slurred, and she's too new at this to be any good at disguising her inebriation. "I'm-- i'm at onyx and there's this guy-- I-- I had all these shots and the room won't stop spinning, and he won't leave me alone--" There's a part of her that just feels ashamed that she couldn't handle herself, that she was calling him for a rescue. "I don't know what to do--"

[lovesaidno-archive]

@munofmanyminds

“The fuck are you doing here?” Victor asked as he looked up and saw her standing in the doorway. “Miss my dick already?” He smiled and put out a cigarette he had been smoking. Hiding the money he was counting, he put it in a drawer and locked it. 

[onyxedideas]

@munofmanyminds

For the past week or so, all they’ve been doing is arguing. Bringing each other to the verge of a full-blown fight and then retreating over and over again in the same exhausting cycles. This time, though, it isn’t just arbitrary mood swings on her part. There’s an underlying reason why she’s been all over the place recently. She isn’t the best communicator, that’s always been a fact, but she’s been even more closed off than usual and even more likely to snap at the most insignificant things (if that’s even possible). For the most part Roman’s been doing a brilliant job of disengaging before they go too far.

Tonight, though. Tonight, they’d full on exploded, and as much as Amaka knows she should feel the exact opposite, there’s a sense of relief that comes with it. They can reset now. Go back to something akin to normal, pretend that instead of the near-toxic minefield that they call a relationship they’re actually something closer to a functional couple. She’s leaning against the doorframe, trying to sort out the words in her head as she looks over at him from across the room. She’s never been good with apologies so she avoids it. This - as underwhelming as it is - is her version of one. Giving him context. Trying to make him understand what her headspace is like, trying to give him some sort of explanation. “I’ve been spending time with my dad.” She says the words in a tone so soft it’s much closer to a whisper than the yelling that had filled the space not too long ago. “Or at least I’ve been trying to. It’s...not exactly going well.” She goes quiet then, shifts her weight from one foot to the other as she waits for his response. She can never read him quite right after a fight and she doesn’t want to push it if he doesn’t want to talk.

[mversefunhouse]

CLOSED STARTER. “What if she doesn’t like me?” Bridget had always been a soft speaker, but her voice sounded timid even to her. She could see it in Mr. King’s eyes as he glanced up from his cellphone, they shone bright with amusement and a smidgen of pity. It was weak, she knew, and something she wasn’t keen on showing to most people, but this was Tobin. A man she’d known since she was 10-years-old. She trusted him almost as much as she trusted her mother.

Tobin, for his part, covered her hand with his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when their waiter ran over to whisper something in his ear. When they were finished, he simply nodded in response, before returning his attention to his future step-daughter. “Ariel and I are one and the same. You’ll endear yourself to her as you’ve done with me.” It was an outright lie, but spoken with enough confidence that he knew Bridget would believe him no matter what rumors she’d heard prior. “Besides, I raised Ariel to be the picture of charm and grace. You’ll be fine.” He gave her hand another squeeze and then quickly retreated to his side of the table. { @munofmanyminds}

[heartkings]

@munofmanyminds​. 

He counts his money on the currency counter, after it is washed and professionally prepared by his top men-- the ones slightly underneath him in the ranks. He values every single one of his team members, and does not lose himself in the midst of hubris. When he is even the tiniest bit of stressed, though, he knows exactly who to summon. Just her scent is enough to ease the tensions in the room. “You’re late.” He mumbles, spinning a rubber band between his finger. “Where have you been?”

[loveisliquor]

@munofmanyminds gray doesn't sleep much. she's notoriously nocturnal-- it's the best time to stream and normally, its silent. but for the past 3 weeks, despite the constant use of her noise-cancelling headphones, her neighbor has been insistent on providing the world's raunchiest soundtrack. night after night, she's had to listen to them give multiple orgasms to whichever girl they'd taken a fancy to (and there were several, she has perfect pitch-- and she can tell the difference). tonight, though-- it's silent and somehow that's oddly worrying. she knows it's overstepping to show up at their door with questions, but she's never been one for propriety or boundaries. she's still rumpled from sleep when she knocks on their door. it isn't until after they open the door that she regrets not...attempting to look a little less hobitt-y, she tugs on the edge of her oversized white t-shirt and shifts in her bunny socks.

"....are you okay? like is everything...alright round here? it's been suspiciously silent tonight and i came to see if you were....you know, alive. i'd hate to have a dead body next door so--" she gives them a soft smile. "i'm gray by the way-- i'm next door."

[loveisliquor]

@munofmanyminds​

She fucked up. She knew that--from the moment she found herself  looking forward to seeing Nathan. Knew it from the moment she spotted the other woman standing a little too close to him and felt her skin heat up-- knew it from the way the other had accosted her in the bathroom. But her reaction to her jealousy and his behaviour wasn’t distance--it was to whisper her angry promises into his ear. Promises of bonfires and destroyed belongings. Her reaction to listening to a very detailed account of Nathan’s most recent-- or ongoing--relationship with the tall russian woman was to storm out of that stupid party, go home--pour gasoline over his suits and light them on fire. She was fond of the clawfoot bathtub. It was a beauty. But then so way she, poised on the edge of the counter in intricate lingerie, illuminated by the flames of the small fire she’d started. She let’s out a small growl when he waltzes into the room. 

“You’re a bit late to the party.” She’s tempted to fling more of his belongings into the tub. There’s something therapeutic about it. She picks up a tie and throws it into the flames. 

“You should go back-- get her to suck your dick in front of everyone-- stellar finish to the evening don’t you think?.” 

She lifts a watch-- lets it dangle off her finger. 

“How fond are you of this watch--exactly?” 

[loveisliquor]

@munofmanyminds

This was turning into a filthy habit. Gin’s smart enough to admit that there’s a pattern forming here, that she’s taking sip after sip of something that burns her insides just because they will lead her to him. She arrives at his door with tears in her eyes-- and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in her hands. She’s hiccuping softly, in between trying to take steadying breaths. Her outfit is as confused as her behavior, she’s still in a skirt suit, impossibly tight with her hair somewhere between a bun and a ponytail. Her shoes are no where to be seen. She wiggles her toes in the night air and reaches for the doorbell, ringing it with an ease she doesn’t deserve to have.

When he opens there door she’s smiling, a lazy-- drunken smile, that’s far too wide. The words that have been sitting on her tongue since she’d woken up on his couch come spilling out in a rush. It’s so typical of her, to only let them words happen when she has no control over them. 

“M’still sorry. More sorry now than I was--last...week? Monday-- I don’t know what day but I’m sorry. Think I still love you a little bit and I tried everything and it won’t go away.  I think the whiskey is..watering it somehow. I just feel everything more when I’m like this or... I focus on them more. And then...all  I can focus on is you and I’m just... I’m still really sorry.” she hiccups softly and lifts the Jack Daniels bottle that she’d been holding in what may have seemed a precarious grip. “Would you like some? It’s rude not to share.”