white collar under-boss

I would chase the whole world over just to find someone like you; and I promise to always steal your heart. But don't blame me if find it on the black market before even understanding what had hit— fall real hard; i promise I won't catch.

[whitecolliar]

there's am eris who did it who dunnjt

[whitecolliar]

± [ grimsley and karen ]

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He'd respect (and to an extent) fear both of the elites; and whilst Nixon was more wary around Karen and the way he treated her, Grimsley and he may sometime engage in witty banter and a round of cards and talk about general guy stuff over an expensive bottle of chardonnay.Sometimes they'd mention about Karen and immediately break into a mutual understanding hush that she was not a mere woman to be objectified – regal and respected in numerous unspeakable ways. 

[whitecolliar]

Green

Send a color and my muse will tell you the first thing it reminds them of

Sickness and envy.

[whitecolliar]

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Nixon probably wouldn't hit on Heather – considering that she feels a little typical like any anonymous woman on the street. Should they meet, however, the heir is likely to respect her profession and patience, and may slowly open up to her as a friend or a confidant when things in the Nursing Room gets too heavy for one to bear themselves.

[whitecolliar]

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Nixon doesn't hate Morty. In fact he's relieved that he has an older brother who was far-removed enough to be considered a friend/confidant, with the obligation of family ties to listen to his complaints about whatever, whenever. 

Nixon sometimes attempts to brings Morty to strip-clubs.

[whitecolliar]

red—

Send a color and my muse will tell you the first thing it reminds them of

New year— firecrackers. An asian tradition his family had once experienced during a trip out to the Kanto/Johto islands a few years back.

[whitecolliar]

± ((laughs))

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They hate each other.But a part of Nixon knows that they are too similar for comfort and that's what forces him to take a look at himself and his attitudes constantly to change everything he didn't like in Steven.In a way, he evaluates himself to be different from jerk-wad over here and strives to be better than the other could ever hope to be.

He will probably eventually try to challenge Steven to a battle.

[whitecolliar]

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Nixon will probably try to work his charm on Joana solely because, but he will learn to respect her based on her natural talent for pokémon battling. These two are likely to bond over their passions for pokémon welfare and methodology on raising/nursing sick ones back to health.

He'd probably back her in-terms of funding should she ever chose to open her own Rescue. 

[whitecolliar]

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While Nixon has expressed intent on her beauty, he has seen much of her type of exotic to be actually intrigued solely by her looks. What keeps him attracted to Leaf is her personality and her general immunity to his wiles— something about her personality that reminds him a little of Sedna and Eris. 

[inboxstuff]

Send a color and my muse will tell you the first thing it reminds them of.

[inboxstuff]

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[coldplay-music-collection]

Visit Original Link

Coldplay - Swallowed In The Sea (x)

[whitecolliar]

ArrangedMarriage!AU — When you wake up, I hope someone better takes my place || Reiko

[negativu]

Shrugging slightly she looked at him carefully. “I adapt.” Reiko simply stated as she watched him leave his eyes on her. He was far more sophisticated than she was. The way he held himself. Those were all things she had abandoned years ago. Along with the rest of her life. 

Reputation. Ah yes, she had one of those. The list of things from when she had left home till right that second were too many to count on just one hand. Her days spent as a pianist, even her time as a waitress. Clicking her tongue she waved her hand at him playfully. Of course when it came to talking about her past she was quick to put up her familiar charade. It was just easier that way. 

"hmm yes my history. I’m flattered.. no wait.. I’m honored. That of all people to pick.. you managed to find the most fucked up one.” Pulling her legs close to her body she held them there as he brought himself up to lay in their bed. Nixon laid himself in the bed, only to sit up slightly and bring up one last question. 

To think he cared -pretended to care?- about her birthday which was coming up fast. The big two-zero. She had no friends, which meant she had no plans. Her brother was busy with his own work and friends, thought they shared a birthday.. Reiko was now a married woman. 

"For my birthday?"

Pulling her lower lip into her mouth slightly she rested her head against the wall carefully. Takign a moment she chewed idly on her lip. “Fireworks.. I want to see fireworks. Nothing more than that.” It was simple. Surely he could find time to spend with his wife even if it was for an appearance or something like false comfort. 

Reiko had little to no complaints when it came to company. 

[whitecolliar]

He chuckles when the expletive rolls off her tongue, and a look of mock-disdain crosses his features as the woman pulled her legs away to allow him the required space. Eyes follow the movement of her slender neck and the eyes that avert his gaze, and as the long hair falls and pools by her shoulders he feels compelled to reach out for the fibers and to hold them in his grasp— this aquamarine hue; he was absolutely fixated on it.

"Yes, your birthday-" his words reiterate, though admittedly distractedly as his hands reach out absently for her digits, bringing her hand close to his sight for an inspection of the porcelain skin – wondering where all the damage that she had done to herself in the past had gone. Fireworks, she had said as his line of vision is magnetized by the look of empty wistfulness in cloudy hues in surprise and distraction. For the moment Nixon wonders if she had been hoping for other company – her twin, perhaps some close friends; but it's inexplicable and he knows he is misunderstanding something here.

I wish I could work it out—

But it feels unnecessarily contrite and trivial to be involved with such things (is my company not yet enough?) and making a mental note to care less for her (lest it backfires and burns them both,) he leaves the conversation at that and returns her hand to her side – withholding the kiss he would usually plant on a lady's hands whenever he greeted them.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about it, but I can't make any promises on that." This time, he retracts back under the sheets and reaches out for the side lamp on his side and clicks it off – effectively setting their large room into a semi-darkness that makes the distinction between the couple more obvious than ever. Like dark and light; yin-and-yang – their relationship was already hanging on a line of contrast, and in the dim-light he feels absolutely swallowed by the sea of their tumult.

—

"Do you like pianos, Reiko?"

It sounded stupid as hell – he knew; but he also realizes that their house had an obvious lack of the instrument considering all those in the mansion were rarely played and maintained simply for aesthetic purposes. They were all collector's pieces, but what good were they if not to be broken and played with vigor—?

[amu-dattebyo]

How can you not love him?!?!

[ginegonzales]

[revire]

[whitecolliar]

ArrangedMarriage!AU — When you wake up, I hope someone better takes my place || Reiko

[negativu]

Stretching, Reiko sat herself up fully. Nothing hm? Perfect. That made things easier, marriage wasn’t supposed to be this awkward, right? Guess whats what happens when you’re suddenly thrown into a loveless relationship. Barely knowing things about each other. The Cohen family was still one big mystery to her. The biggest one being their son — her husband. 

Her voice caught her attention again, but his words were cut off at he slipped up her name. Where was she from, the question seemed a bit silly. Didn’t he read up on her in the slightest? He knew as little about her as she did him. 

Curious. His action was something she had done herself in the past. Not to hold her tongue, or to punish herself. It had felt good at the time. The pain was pleasure. Watching carefully as he plucked tiny pieces of tissue off his lip. It was the fault of his mother, being taught to literally bite your tongue was strange. 

"If you bite it wrong, you might bleed a lot." she said quietly in reply to him. "Try to be more careful." adverting her eyes for a moment, she reminded herself that eye contact was important when communicating. Lifting her head she looked at him again, her head tilted to the side slightly as she took a moment to address his previous halfway question. 

"I’m from Sinnoh, by the way. Sunyshore City."

[whitecolliar]

If you bite it wrong, you might bleed a lot. The sentence stops him in his actions, eyes hardening and narrowing slightly at the fibre of the carpet beneath his feet. Concern of this form was something that still felt rather foreign, and coming from her – even more so. Still, he appreciates the notion and chuckles slightly to himself before waving a dismal hand at her reproach, the smile on his lips now more permanent and less tentative. 

She was some kind of beauty— he'd give her that.  Unpolished, maybe. But still something inexplicable and entrancing;

"Sinnoh? And here I always thought you were a local— the way you speak and the way you carry yourself." His gaze rests on hers for lingering seconds before he brings folded fingers to his lips, knuckles positioned just by the corners of his mouth while his mind contemplated the files of "Reiko Kagome" that had been handed to him prior.

"You've got quite a reputation, haven't you— a pianist in the past; a little bit of dabbling on the streets of Lumiose." Nixon pauses, wondering briefly if he had overstepped his welcome a little too quickly, but opts to pursue the conversation anyway.

"I know your history, Reiko. I know everything that you wouldn't want others to know – and that's fine. I chose you out of many women offered to me simply because I can – for lack of a better word – empathize." Eyes fall shut for the moment fatigue sinks in, and fingers reach up for his temples in attempt to soothe the dull ache that had resided behind his skull. Barely midnight and it already feels too heavy for a conversation—

Curt steps cut the distance between the lounge chair and their bed, and as Nixon slips beneath the plush sheets of the King-sized mattress, the coolness of the fabric against his skin lends much aid in relieving the tension that had kinked in his muscles previously. As if as an afterthought, he sits up and watches the blue-haired female from the corner of his eyes.

"It's your birthday this week as well, isn't it? Is there anything particular that you want—?"