The Didonatos

EVERYONE HAS A SECRET. BORN TO THE ESTEEMED JEREMIAH DIDONATO, THE DIDONATO'S KNEW NAUGHT THE INNOCENCE OF A CHILD - NOT EVEN THE YOUNGEST. SURROUNDED BY WEATH, CORRUPTION, AND SECRETS, THE ONLY THING THAT HOLDS THEM TOGETHER IS THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH THEIR VEINS. Independent Mature RP, Mun & Muse 18 + Multiple-verses, Multiple Muses& Semi-selective Also indie krp RP darkxinnoence Originalities Collective

[theeltons]

REVERSE STARTER CALL !! LIKE this post and I will go into either your open starters, or wanted plots and write something up. If you have a muse preference, please comment below OR DM me, otherwise I’ll just pick something that strikes a muse :) 

[theeltons]

lvelyglxy‌:

kioshi is in his own little world. a world where he could break free of himself and just do the things he doesn’t normally get to do on a day to day basis. it’s hard for him being able to break out of the constraints of shyness, anxiety, what have you. it’s something he’s struggled with for a long time, but right now was just nice to be able to let loose. that is until out of the corner of his eye he spots something or someone standing in a doorway. he stops mid-dance to allow his vision to get a better look at what he spotted. and then it all came back to him—hana was here. 

“fuck…” he fumbles with the spatula in his hand as he struggles to turn the music down in the kitchen. “h-hana, shit. sorry, i totally forgot—” he fumbles with his words, one free hand quickly goes up to scratch at the back of his head. “did i wake you? i didn’t mean to, seriously. i am really sorry.” 

“I knew you were a dancer,” Hana teases back,"but no need to apologize,” She muses, walking over as a yawn escapes her lips. Her hands instinctively rise to cover the widening of her jaws as every single inch of her body leans upward in a stretch. “mmm much better,” Hana remarks, hands falling to her hips as she reaches upward into the cabinet to grab a piece of bread. Hana always needed something in her stomach from the moment she opened her eyes -- it was an annoying habit at times -- which is why she stocked up on some red bean paste buns and stashed them in a cupboard.  “I’ll take some of that sizzling bacon and I’ll call it even,”  Hana takes a bite of the bun, mock-seriousness on her face as she asks, “What d’ya say? --- also, is it your day off? You’re not usually home at this time of day...i don’t think...” 

[theeltons]

tooxmanyxfaces‌:

Elijah looked at the man and cocked his head out of curiosity. He dug into his pants pocket and nodded simply as he leaned forward to strike his thumb across the lighter, the flame lighting up the end of his cigarette. “Smoking kills ya know.” he offered as he flicked his cigarette to rid it of the ash at the end.

“Thank you very much” Tyler responded back in response, the latter emphasis coming out as more of a sigh of relief. It was an automatic response, his body moving to get to the light, inhaling deeply as his eyes took in the glowing embers to what could be the death of him, no doubt, but his muscles loosened. That annoying jitter in his head went away, and it was as if calm had fallen over a kingdom and all was right with the world again - if only temporarily. As a cloud of darkened smoke left his lips, Tyler chuckled. “Mm sure does. And yet,” he says as he takes another hit, “here we are,” he breathes out, “still alive.” 

[theeltons]

tooxmanyxfaces‌:

@theeltons

Elijah places his lips around the end of a cigarette, drawing in a puff. He stood outside the blood lounge and took a gander around, hoping to find an eager victim to feed from. He ran his fingers through his long brunette locks, blowing out the smoke from his lungs.

The cool air was a refreshing change from the stuffiness of the bar inside. Only as without realizing it, Tyler had forgotten his lighter at home. “fuck.” He cursed, running a hand through his hair inwardly yelling at himself for making such a dumb mistake. His cells longed for a much-needed cig, and while he hated asking strangers for favors, he decided he’d risk a small-talk conversation if that meant satiating his mind. “hey, do you have a light I can borrow?” Tyler asked. 

[theeltons]

lvelyglxy‌:

the happenings: since kioshi isn’t home a whole lot he’s allowed you to stay with him since your living situation seemed to have flopped over the last month (could be a sibling of one of his friends). the two of you don’t really have a huge friendship together since kioshi is invested in his work and pretty shy. but now he’s home, forgetting that someone else is living with him, and he’s singing his heart out in the kitchen while making breakfast. 

“then i heard they slept together. oh, the less i know the better the less i know the better.” he’s bopping around the kitchen as the sausage on the pan sizzles away. music is blasting throughout the kitchen, completely forgetting that there’s someone else occupying his home. he continues to shimmy around and sing along with the song as he gets his breakfast ready. 

To get a break away from her own life, more specifically, her responsibilities and her nagging family, Hana had adapted a tendency to crash at Kioshi’s ever since they’d met on the set. Hana didn’t usually get close to her directors, but Kioshi was an exception. Though her pornstar days were over, Hana still kept in contact with Kioshi, and well, would become a house-guest for random snippets of time. Hana smelled the food first, but didn’t really decide to get-up until she heard kioshi’s voice meshing with that of the vocals of the tame impala. Leaning against the doorframe of her room, A tired but melodic “the less i know the better. oh my love, can’t you see yourself by my side.” escaped Hana’s lips as she witnessed the dancing scene before her. 

[theeltons]

ripetogether‌:

OPEN STARTER. wanted: f/m/nb. terrible people who are friends but really want each other. there are things standing in the way, like them always bickering or maybe one of them is their friend’s ex.

CLIFF: not to sound like a character out of gilmore girls CLIFF: (because you forced me to watch that show and now my brain is full of long, rambling nonsense) CLIFF: but i think i might need a more direct way of getting coffee at this point CLIFF: maybe from an iv? it’d be fitting, wouldn’t it?

@ripetogether​

BELLE: We both know that’s your favorite show hahaha BELLE: And you’re welcome for sharing the best tv show ever written with you BELLE: Lorelai would be disappointed.  BELLE: Where’d the fun in it be if you can’t physically pour the coffee in and drink it from a mug. or i guess, plastic cup.

[theeltons]

pperfections:

this is not him. this is anything but him. he’s not a live in the moment kinda lad, he’s a plan everything weeks before in a color-coordinated agenda kind of lad. a control freak, if you will. obsessed with the idea of knowing that things were going according to plan and they always had. he’d graduated at the top of his class in high school, with an extraordinary extracurricular record, a yale and harvard alumni, and now, soon to be the governer of new york, sawyer vanderbilt was perhaps the east coast’s prized position ( a point to note, his hairline had remained in tact through it all ), the ideal son, and the ideal husband. he told himself it was all willingly. his choice to take a ridiculous course load in high school, while maintaining his position as captain of the lacrosse team, his choice to venture into yale, much like his father had done years prior to him, his choice to pursue his overwhelming passion in law, his choice to follow in the family’s political footsteps, his choice to marry elle, not because she was the ideal wife to the to-be governer of new york because deep down, he truly believed she was his soulmate. all of it, sawyer had been convinced was his choice. of course, others who had watched the boy age, would argue otherwise.  so what was this ? this sudden breach in…, character ? was it a choice ? it was a choice. an unplanned choice brought upon by something sawyer couldn’t quite place his finger upon. did he yearn for excitement ? did he yearn for a break from his color-coordinated agenda or the taste of a wedding cake he wouldn’t eat because truth be told, he hated cake ? what it was, as something sawyer did his best not to think about. not more than he needed to, at least. not now. so, that’s exactly what he’d do, he wouldn’t think of it —- not now. reaching over to silence the buzzing phone, the male reverts his attention to the nearly bare femme settled far too comfortably on his lap ( a reminder that this had been going on far too long to be considered ‘a mistake’ anymore ). ❛  it’s probably my assistant, ❜ sawyer mumbled unconvincingly. he wasn’t answerable to her and yet, he felt the need to clarify things —- it was his dire need to be the good guy at all times. although, she had to be aware of his engagement, the pair had after all met through eleanor. it was his fiancee who had incessantly insisted that the pair transform his manhattan bachelor pad into something more ‘wholesome’, not that it hadn’t been wholesome prior to that, sawyer wasn’t much of a party animal, thankfully, those genetics had consumed the younger vanderbilt. her hips rutting rhythmically against him, the male exhaled a hitched groan, his fingers crawling up her dainty spine to find the unwanted straps of her racy little bralette ( a useless piece of clothing if you asked him ). brows furrowing at the male, he exhales a dismissive chuckle. ❛  even so —- you don’t have much to lose, ❜ sawyer responded, an arrogance dripping into his raspy tone before he allows his lips drop into the warmth of her collarbone. 

It was amazing how a few drinks could change Belle completely, as if three-shots meant the appearance of a much more scandalous and flirtatious counter-ego. It wasn’t bad, in fact, often times liquid courage paved the way to extremely memorable and exciting nights. The only downside was cleaning up the aftermath. She never regretted anything; she just hated how they almost always tended to make her life much more complicated than she would’ve liked. And as much she tried to persuade herself, she knew her current affair with sawyer could inevitably lead to a disaster. After all, the man was running for governor of New York with a beautiful and influential fiancee-to-be; whereas Belle was more like the accidental paint-splatter you tried to wash off your skin after you painted the masterpiece. 

And yet, she was still here. Here again. Even though, to her sisters, she told them she’d end it. That she wouldn’t go over at untimely hours in the night. That she would keep it to a strictly professional client-and-consultant relationship (Her sisters, obviously, didn’t believe her. Not after seeing sawyer anyway. But Belle did...well, kind of). Though the buzz of the phone brings Belle slightly out of her trance, of the bubble that she created around the two of them, her buzz, cancelled out any rational thoughts that screamed at her to put her clothes back on and leave. In the back of her mind, she knew he was lying. That no doubt, it was Eleanor calling, perhaps wondering where her fiance-to-be was at this time of the night, and not his assistant. Only, Belle let it slide. Allowing herself to stay in the fantasy bubble the two created. Just the two of them, music in the background, under the silence of a darkened sky. The room was dimly lit, as if anything brighter would reveal the reality of what they were doing. A soft quiet moan escaped her lips as her breath stopped, momentarily, eyes closing as she enjoyed the electric shock of his hands against her skin. Was it the risk of being caught that excited her? Or the fact that she’d managed to woo, unintentionally, a man of sawyer’s stature that made his touch electrifying? Or was it the conversations they’d have, just the two of them, letting her see a shadow of a man that wasn’t what she’d thought to be that made her heart thump. To the world, Belle knew, sawyer was what every man wanted to be. But to her, she saw the invisible chains that tied down his childish soul. The man vying to please his father, his family, his fiancee, as he desperately tried to live up to all that they believed him to be. She could feel the tenseness in his shoulders that would loosen as her lips grazed his skin. She liked to think, that with her, he could simply be sawyer. No strings, no chains, no expectations; that he could be wholeheartedly him. 

“hmm, so you’re implying you’ve got lots to lose?” Belle chimed back, a moan escaping as his lips pressed against her bare skin. Nimble fingers toyed with the edge of his shirt before sliding beneath it, “who’s to say you haven’t got lots to gain?” 

[theeltons]

pperfections:

          「 ;* ⁂ ── ▷ open to: females » relationship: affair.  」

                                            marriage seemed like the sawyer thing to do. it seemed like the right thing to do, which then once again…, made it the sawyer thing to do. the eldest vanderbilt had always been the most obedient vanderbilt, or the only vanderbilt considering his half-brother had never quite been recognized as such, given the circumstances he was concieved under. so, when he’d been introduced to eleanor or elle as sawyer liked to sweetly refer to her, he’d been ecstatic. she was the PERFECT addition to his legacy, a humanitarian lawyer, the daughter of a family with deep political roots ; she would be in an ideal world, the perfect companion to the upcoming governer of new york. she had been, she had been until sawyer hit…, what he refused to call a midlife crisis ( far too soon for his liking ) but was inevitably EXACTLY that. 

                                           perhaps it was the sudden unexpected passing of his father, or his family’s image being blown to shreds as a result of his brother’s childish antics, or perhaps it was the election which crept closer day by day, or perhaps it was the unstable marriage he’d grown up around —- or perhaps it was all of it, perhaps he was just TIRED. speaking of tired, there it was, the incessant buzzing of his phone giving rise to an ensemble of irritable bumps across his robust arms. a sign of fear —- or irritation? it was eleanor —- it was elle, most likely reminding him of an appointment set to taste wedding cakes that sawyer had little interest in eating. it was his fiancee, his to-be wife. yet, he didn’t seem bothered ; not like he once had been at the thought of creating a powerful family, to carry on the vanderbilt name. instead, his blue hues, tired but intrigued, shifted to the half-naked woman straddling his waist. his pink lips curled slightly at the corners, in what sawyer hoped was some semblance of a smile but in actuality was a DESPERATE attempt at concealing the overwhelming guilt bubbling at the pit of his belly. he had meant to end this. today —- before it it got messy, before it reached media outlets and tarnished his political potential. yet, there he was, captivated by every inch of her being once more. ❛  you’re going to get me in a whole lot of trouble one of these days,  ❜ he mumbled softly, his large hands moving to grasp at her plump bottom firmly. 

You weren’t supposed to sleep with the clients. That was the first rule in the handbook. One rule that Belle had scoffed at herself when she took on the position as consultant interior designer for a small furniture store just as something to do on the side. She remembered starkly, chuckling aloud as she mused aloud: ‘really? these things actually happen in real life not just porn’ as a joke to a co-worker. Apparently they happened quite frequently, given the type of clients the firm often got: single, rich, bachelors or bachelorettes. And well, here she was, living in the one moment she’d never imagine herself getting into. 

The job was just supposed to be a side hobby that kept her busy. To keep her creative juices flowing and her mind busy, she liked to say. She wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that it was also keeping her body busy too. Perhaps she should have known better to have done her second house-visit consultation after seeing her sisters (there was always alcohol involved, for some reason that behooved her), but who could really be at fault. It was almost the summer and she truly needed a change in her life. If anything, the intoxicatingly taboo relationship she was in was doing wonders for her creatively. Maybe it was the post-sex adrenaline high or simply the divergence from her usual norm that made it so, but she couldn’t really complain. 

Belle had just gotten out of a long-term relationship, swearing off all men only to find herself in bed with this particular one. But it came with all that she needed really. The sex was great, there was no need of commitment, and she could get work done at the same time (him being her client). Plus it was only temporary, that was how she justified these house calls. After all, in a few months he’d be married, she’d finish re-decorating his bachelor pad, and the two would be out of each other’s life: consequence free. 

He was a handsome distraction. One that was particularly and excitingly fun. Clad in just a bralette and with the straps falling to her side and her skirt pushed high up her waist, her hips grounded rhythmically against his crotch as she leaned down peck gently at his neck. “mmm, who said you haven’t already gotten me into trouble.” she teased back, a light chuckle following suit. 

[theeltons]

bloodtruths:

archie huffed as hana dropped onto the couch beside him, his hand, cut and bloody at the knuckles, moving from its position at his side and onto his knee where he was less likely to accidentally brush against her leg. he might have been a reckless klutz that picked fights with people bigger than him, but he was still a gentleman at heart. 

the young man chose to ignore most of her words, rolling his eyes at her jibe about his prize, and focusing solely on the part where she told him to take his shirt off, which even then took him by surprise. “ wait ? really ? ” there was a mischievous glint in his eye as she spoke, and before she was even able to answer him he was ignoring the pain that came from hoisting his dirty t-shirt up and over his head to reveal the soft bruised skin underneath. “ i usually look better than this. ” he chuckled, tossing his shirt onto the floor and turning back to face her with as much of a grin as his wounds would allow.

“yes really,” Hana chuckled, an amusing glint in her eyes as she watched him eagerly strip off his shirt. Part of her couldn’t help wondering just what the young man thought would ensue, and if it was what Hana was thinking, Archie would surely be disappointed. Perhaps that is why she leaned in for a soft peck, rosy brims rushing just against the left corner of his lips before she took a closer look down at his bruised skin. 

“mmm a little bit battered up around the edges, but nothing unfixable.” she stated, fingers trickling down his chest, pressing gently against the blue-ish purple-ish areas to access how badly injured he was. Though he kept a smile on his devilish brims, Hana could see the grimaces he tried to hide when even the gentlest nudges resulted in pain. 

[theeltons]

bloodtruths:

“ i didn’t plan this fight, i wasn’t prepared enough. ” he shrugged, wincing just a little as his muscles ached with his movement, and doing his best to play it off as a yawn. he wasn’t fooling anybody, it was clear he was hurt, but his pride would always get the better of him.

“ what if i was saving someone else’s life, hm ? what if i was being a hero. i wasn’t, but i could’ve been. ” — yup, he’s an idiot alright.

a smirk creeps onto his features at her next words, and although he knows she doesn’t mean it in that way, he can’t resist teasing her about it. “ your rules huh ? sounds kinky. is rule one ‘no clothes’ ? ‘cause i can vibe with that. ”

"I doubt you could’ve done better had you been prepared.” Hana jested, flopping herself down on the couch next to him before laying out the supplies. She pretended to not catch his wince, knowing that the man before her was more prideful than most, and instead focused on setting every up along the table: ointments, rubbing alcohol, bandages, and band-aids.

A tinkling laugh escaped her lips at his next comment. Throwing her head back, her eyes locked onto his. “you sound as if you deserve a prize for getting into this condition.” she shakes her head in disbelief, chuckling all the while. 

Hana was used to Archie’s playful jests, and always being one who enjoyed toying with fire, she arched a brow. An impish smile resting on her lips as she leaned in closer, so close so that their faces were only an inch apart. “hmm, how’d you know that’s exactly the first rule?” she joked, hands resting on the edges of his shirt. “take it off.” she commanded, though it was more so that she could fix him up than anything else. 

[theeltons]

bloodtruths:

although he seemed to wind up in most of the fights that went on in the area, archie wasn’t actually affiliated with any specific gang. he had friends on both sides ( who of course knew nothing of the others’ existence ) and most of the time he just went about his life as a fashion photographer with no real interest in anything else. but when night fell, and he’d had a few drinks and/or one of several drugs he liked to dabble in, he got a little … aggressive. he liked to think he could take on the world, and usually the world liked to prove him wrong.

“ actually, no. it was a fist fight and the other guy just happened to have a knife. ” archie rolled his eyes at her, though a soft smirk danced on his features. he was being an idiot and he knew it, but he wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t making life difficult for everybody. “ i didn’t ask to be dropped here. i wanted to go to taco bell. ”

"novice mistake.” Hana quipped, reaching into her first-aid kit to take out band-aids and bandages. “They always have a knife.” She places the bandages onto the table-top before looking up, “Have your friends taught you nothing?” 

Hana knew it wasn’t common sense, at least not to those that were unfamiliar with the gangs at hand. “Maybe your hands ought to stick to taking shots on the camera hmm?” she teased lightly as she ripped open a band-aid. 

“There’s probably ten miles between you and taco bell. Are you going to leave, or stay? -- because if you’re staying...well...” her voice trailed off. “my house my rules.” 

[theeltons]

bloodtruths:

╰ ☆ . open starter !

muse: archie hann, a photographer and professional thrill seeker connection: close friend, partner, nurse/doctor, stranger, etc. ( f/m/nb ) plot: archie’s been in a fight. again. your muse is patching him up. triggers: minor blood mention

“ i’m fine. ” he mumbles, bottom lip too swollen to get the words out properly. it’s evident just from looking at him that he’s anything BUT fine, but really, by archie hann’s standards of fucked up-ness, he’s at the lower end of the scale. his fringe is matted with now-dried blood from a wound on his head he isn’t sure how he sustained, his left cheekbone is sporting some very colourful bruising, and there’s cuts, scrapes, and bruises along most of his upper body. nothing is broken though, so in the grand scheme of things he’s fine, and definitely too fine to accept any help. he pushes away the hand trying to dab a cloth at the cut on his cheek, and scowls. “ don’t have more important things you could be doing ? ”

“mhmm,” Hana hums under her breath, “of course you are.” She was much used to Archie’s defensiveness, especially when he appeared at her doorstep all battered up. More likely than not, one of Archie’s friends had dropped him to her doorstep, knowing that when these altercations happened, Hana was one to feed, repair, and keep quiet. Hana wasn’t a nurse, but her family had ties within gangs and the mafia, and were known to help out the lone-wolfs that pledged no allegiance to any specific crowd. Given her past experiences, she had enough medical skills to patch someone up, and had been known to take of many in the area. 

“what did you do? Get in an knife fight?” Hana chuckled, ignoring his scowl as she continued to dab ointment on his cuts. As her Hana leans back to hide a smile. “I mean, if you mean sleep given this time of night, then yes.” she pauses. “but you’re the one who showed up at my door.” she reminded. 

[theeltons]

slccpwalkcrs:

scenario: victor’s been undercover for six months working on busting up a drug ring, and the only way he was able to communicate with your muse was through cryptic, intermittent messages. he hasn’t been able to send anything in the last two and a half months, though, but now that he managed to crack the case he’s finally able to come home without worrying about their safety. open to: boyfriend/girlfriend, muses 27yo+ only please!

          “What’s that look for, babe? Don’t like the beard? Kinda thought it worked for my undercover persona, but it looks like you don’t agree.” Victor had returned only a few short moments ago himself, so he hadn’t had any time to make himself look presentable yet after being away from home for so long. He pushed himself up off the couch and made his way over to them, pausing just a few feet away as he studied their face in an attempt to make sense of their reaction. “Listen, I know this has gotta be a shock - I barely write or call or make any sense when I do, then you don’t hear from me in almost three months and you probably worry yourself half to death wondering about me. Things got… a little dicey, to say the least and that’s sort of all I can really say about it right now, but I swear I’m fine.” He gives them a soft smile, but stays where he is for the moment until he knows they’re okay too. God, he’s missed them something awful, but he’s not about to push things just because he’s selfish - he’ll wait to get close until they give him permission, if they’re not pissed off at him for disappearing, that is. “Think you can say something, babe? If you need to hit me or yell at me for going off the grid I’d completely understand, I just need to know you’re still capable of speaking first.”

Hana wasn’t an artist by trade, but in the past few months, she’d taken to the brush and paints to relieve her of both anxiety and stress. It all started when the melodies stopped flowing from her brims, depriving her of her only escape as she lost the will to sing. It seemed that her worry -- and her love -- was much more than she ever expected. Her worry for victor’s safety seemed to eat away at her usually carefree mind, and the coping methods she’d developed to deal with her siblings placing themselves in dangerous situations failed. And so when the second month hit, Hana did what she knew best: she moved on. Or tried to at least, once again hiding behind the frosted walls of what others called the ‘Ice Queen.’ 

And so, the last thing she expected to see coming home was Victor on her couch, smiling as if nothing had happened. As if all was well. 

Dropping the grocery bags on the counter, a nonchalant gaze was given to the man before her before she began to put things back into their own place. There was a coldness to her that wasn’t present three months ago. For just like how he’d adapted to fit his undercover persona, Hana had adapted to his absence. When the last items were placed into the fridge, Hana turned to look at him. The rugged, bearded, and worn -- though happy -- man she loved. “I don’t know why you’d assume I’d worry to death.” Her voice cold, “I could really care less y’know.” 

[morbidmatt-archived-deactivated]

                              1x1 ᴩʟᴏᴛ ɪᴅᴇᴀ: 𝙷𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚑𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚛

              Angst / Supernatural / Romance / Crime (?)

Muse A is tired of their life and their job and decides to escape it all by going on a one-person roadtrip. Wherever the road takes them, that’s where they will go, muse A is ready for adventure. Three days into muse A’s roadtrip, they come across muse B, an attractive hitchhiker standing by the side of the road. Muse A gives them a lift and they start talking. They get along great and decide that muse B will join muse A on their roadtrip. Muse A and muse B fall in love quickly and muse A is ecstatic they have found someone to share their journey with, until muse B starts showing signs of a troubled mind.

Option 1: Muse B turns out to be a runaway suffering from memory loss, and that’s why they can’t keep their stories together.

Option 2: Muse B is a ghost/spirit/some other supernatural creature.

Option 3: Muse B is a hitchhiking serial killer.

[theeltons]

back. Just a note that I will be dropping all previous threads and just starting anew. Like this if you want to re-start a thread, or if you want to plot, and I’ll roll into your DM’s :) 

[theeltons]

lcstnghts:

HE WOULD SIMPLY smile at her as he’d listen to the words that she say, obviously amused by the way that she was talking and how she dared to tease him about this request of his. he really shouldn’t be surprised by it though, seeing how it was a little odd for him to be asking such a thing. supposed there was just so much that he could do to be able to spend more time with belle than what he had been given. apart from this kind of conversations, the two weren’t really the kind that talked that often. “i know, but i think contacting you personally might be better than battling with the number of people that probably call the cafe.” his tone teasing as he reaches for the sticky note from her and slipping it into his wallet afterwards. slowly smiling wider, he nods his head as he says, “mia’s out with my parents tonight, so you’re lucky. i’m free. let’s just hope i won’t end up burning the place down. what do you say?”

Was he flirting with her? Belle honestly couldn’t tell. Her sisters had often commented on just how thicks she was when it came to romantic matters that involved herself. And while part of her felt giddy at the possibility that this was what she thought, her more rational side crushed the romantic in her. It felt odd, unlikely, that he’d be interested in someone as young as herself. Especially since he was more than gentle on the eyes and quite charming -- sure, belle knew he was a single father, a handsome bachelor, but coupled with a sweet young little girl, he was the perfect candidate for many many single ladies out in the world. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy their banter, in fact, the unlikeliness of it all made her dare to flirt more. “mm, who says you still wouldn’t be battling a number of people on my cell?” she teased, reciprocating his playful manner as her grin widens. “we’ll I guess I’ll have you all to myself tonight mm?” she jested, “and don’t worry. I always have a fire extinguisher handy.” she chuckled, “but why don’t we get started, wanna come back to the kitchen with me?” 

[theeltons]

simpaticos:

minah allows herself to breathe out a breath of air. just the idea of being able to sit on the matter makes her feel a little better about it. although — his next suggestion only brings up even more questions. “ this thing is really that important to you ? — so much that you’d marry me over it ? ” she sighs, running a slightly shaky hand through her dark hair. pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she gets the courage to look up at him. “ i mean, it’s not like you love me ? right, oppa ? ” it’s more of a rhetorical question, but she says it nonetheless. “ fine. let’s get married. & i’ll have your baby — & yeah. i can do that. ” 

He pauses, allowing the silence to hang in the air for a bit before replying. “Yeah...yeah it is.” he admits, perhaps one of the few times that he’s actually let her in on his concerns. “It’s not a thing really, it’ll be my kin. yours.” he muses, “and who knows when I’ll actually have a chance to be a father again. you know I value my independence, I wasn’t planning on settling down anytime soon, probably won’t. This....could be a blessing.” He was rambling again. Jichul never rambled in front of minah, there’d never been a need for him to voice his concerns, for the two to talk more than was necessary. Not until today at least. “It’s a life. my child, so yeah. it’s pretty important to me.” He sighed. The question he knew she’d ask. Though he wondered what she hoped he’d answered. So instead of truly answering, he merely remarked, “love is a luxury to men like me.” he chuckled, smile widening as she changed her mind. He didn’t think it’d be this easy. “perfect.” he leaned down for a peck. “I guess that’s another nickname to add to the list, mother-of-my-child then mm.”