— 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫.

crack GLASS against the wall and revel in the shards, this is your heart on the ground, sharp edged glory and linoleum.

[mvntague]

☎  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

NAME: zo

RINGTONE: oops! … i did it again by britney spears – ( oops, i did it again / i played with your heart, got lost in the game )

PICTURE:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: no, i’m not busy. why?

LAST TEXT SENT: open your door

[mvntague]

—      MARI .

      “ i find that hard to believe. in fact, you’re wrong about something you just said. i’ve got a moral compass. i do this sort of thing out of necessity, ” she poked his leg twice with her toes before pulling them back up to her chest and resting her chin on top of her knees, “ you on the other hand. you’ve got no need for anything, it seems. ”

      monty was unlike anyone marisol had ever known: dripping with wealth, sculpted by an artists’ hand, and surprisingly kind when it came to the new girl. she’d been quiet at first, but the moment she came out of her shell, they clicked. her eyebrow raised just slightly, curious as he hastily downed the rest of his drink, but she sighed and picked up her own bottle instead of commenting on it.

      “ ay no te preocupes, mari, ” she lowered her voice and mimicked his tone, putting a thick a spanish accent before continuing, waving her hands as she continued, “ gracias, monty. any nerves that i once had are magically gone now. i’m no longer nervous; in fact, i feel so confident that after we hit the frick collection, i’m going to waltz into the met and steal starry night from right underneath their noses. you’ll be able to tell everyone that you, montague henri chamberlain, looked me in the eye and said no te preocupes, thus inspiring the greatest art thief of all time. ”

     marisol sighed, now holding the bottle tight to her chest. something in her manner shifted as she rested her head on the back of the couch and met his eyes. “ i’ve been here since august, and i’m finally getting a chance to be useful, to show you guys what roman saw, and –– there’s this immense weight behind it just completely throwing me off, you know. like i’m finally about to beat a level, but i’ve got one life left. one fuck up and it’s over. ” she paused, her voice quieter as she looked down at the bottle and added, “ i’ve seen worse and i’ve been worse than art thief, but –– this feels bigger, you know ? i’ve got a lot riding on not fucking this up. ” she cleared her throat and that brief moment of vulnerability was gone as she quickly added a roll of her eyes and, “ so throw some of that dazzling confidence over my way, will you ? ”

        “ necessity. mhm, ” he replied, sounding extremely dubious of said necessity being the only reason. “ nobody gets into high-scale art heists just for the money, mari. ” he stuck out his tongue at her as she poked him, swirling his glass and looking pensive. if it weren’t for the graceful ease that drunkenness brought to his limbs, he might even appear scholarly. “ it’s far too elaborate, you know ? there’s got to be an element of excitement in it for you. pride, maybe, the ability to pull it off. ” he gestured to himself, as if providing an example. “ like you said. it’s not as if i need the money, so there must be some kind of appeal otherwise. though i certainly don’t mind the payday. ”

        a laugh escaped him at her over-the-top sarcastic retort, imagining this petite girl carting off a massive painting like starry night as if it wasn’t a big deal. “ oye ! don’t full name me, marisol de graza. ” he pointed at her with glass still in hand, a stern look on his face, but the expression didn’t last long. instead, he blew her a kiss as if the action alone counted as throwing confidence in her direction; though it could potentially be seen as facetious, there was a creeping softness to his features that betrayed the affection he’d grown to feel for her in recent months. 

        “ mari, ” he said again, tone gentler than it had been during the brash declaration of her skills he’d made only moments before. “ mírame. roman may be a colossal asshole sometimes, but i don’t remember the last time he was wrong. and dante, dios, i know he’s so far up our asses, but i can guarantee that he’s checked a thousand times to be sure that this plan is absolutely flawless. this team is a well-oiled machine – we’ll all be right there with you. me and dante with the curator, teddy and jace causing a scene, hazel and eve performing whatever acrobatics they’ve cooked up... even imogen and flo, right across the street. ” monty tilted his head, offering her a light shrug. “ you don’t even need to be confident in you. be confident in us. that’s the only way this will work. ” he smiled, squeezing her knee gently before letting go. 

[mvntague]

☎ skdjsd

NAME: olvirsson

RINGTONE: high horse by kacey musgraves – ( ‘cause everyone knows someone who kills the buzz / every time they open up their mouth )

PICTURE:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: wrong person nvm

LAST TEXT SENT: [ read 11:19 pm ]

[brittsmemes]

Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muses phone:

NAME:

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PICTURE: 

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: 

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[mvntague]

—      ZO .

        he knew monty was speaking, but he couldn’t hear a word.  he thought his heart was pounding before, but now with those slender and too skilled fingers dangerously close to it, it was thumping so loud he couldn’t hear anything besides the blood rushing in his ears.  what was worse, was that he lost all sense of decorum and restraint the instant monty pulled him closer.  the room got a lot smaller, a lot hotter, and a lot more clouded all at once.   all he could see was glinting blue eyes and smirking pink lips.

        and zo kissed him before he realized what he was even doing.

        it was harder than he’d intended, but as soon as that familiarly forbidden taste hit his lips he only deepened it.  abandoning his half drank beer on a nearby table, he grabbed monty’s face with both hands, if for no other reason than to ensure he wasn’t going anywhere.  not that that was really a huge concern, but zo was never one to take unnecessary risks.

        you see, the problem a one zavier otero had was that the reason he couldn’t stop himself from falling into what he could only assume was monty’s plan all along, was that he wanted the distraction from the day’s events.  he wanted to feel the heat of monty’s body, the taste of his tongue, the sound of his ( likely faux ) surprised whimper.  he let himself fall prey to it because he was too weak to confront the slippery slope he was travelling down.  that, and well, it just felt so good.

        so zo kissed him harder, shoving him back into the window before he realized what he was even doing.

        that’s when his brain shut off completely.   hands left behind flushed cheeks to trail down the sides of a crisply pressed and tucked shirt, only to tug it free, desperate to touch the bare skin underneath.  when he finally slipped them under, monty’s hips felt burning hot under his tight grip.  zo pressed into him, holding him as close as possible and catching his bottom lip in his teeth.   he took a moment breathe, then, resting his forehead against monty’s, thumbs tracing lazy circles along symmetrical hip bones.

        that’s, unfortunately, when his brain turned back on.  so he forced himself to pull back just enough to catch monty’s eyes.

        “ i should go, ” he whispered, a husky rasp to his voice. he didn’t want to, and he didn’t mean it. but it felt like the right thing to say. his next voiced thought brought a sideways smirk to his face.

        “ we aren’t very good at ‘last time's… ”

        monty liked control. relished it, even. control was a form of power, and for someone whose livelihood relied upon manipulating other people’s actions to suit his goals, control was vital. it was a vital part of his specialty: half-truths spun in a web of his own lies, the unholy cocktail of fabricated tales to improve an unsatisfying reality. he was used to presenting the prettiest picture possible, putting his best forward with exactly what he wanted the other person to see. this, of course, made him very concerned to discover that he’d begun to find it more difficult to maintain control when zo was involved. 

        there was the obvious, of course: the fact that zo was even here in the first place. that was clearly going against his past promise, but ultimately, not his worst decision. would he regret it tonight ? certainly not, if past experiences were repeated. would he regret it tomorrow ? maybe a little, but he usually had more pressing things to worry about.

       no, monty was far more concerned about the whimper that had just left his lips. zo’s mouth was warm and insistent against his own, the pressure parting his lips as his back hit the window. his hands felt like they were everywhere, solid grip on his hips keeping him right where zo wanted him. god, not that he’d ever want to move, not when this was exactly what he wanted, but his mind couldn’t help itself.

       it seemed small. insignificant. but virtually the entirety of his sexual experiences with zo had been perfectly curated. they weren’t fake, not in the slightest; zo’s hands alone were enough to drive any partner of his to the edge of bliss. but monty was no average person, and he was far too careful to allow himself to get lost in the experience. zo had received fervent, enthusiastic responses, as he should. but the most important part was that they were calculated. planned. 

       suddenly, they weren’t.

       “ you’re right, ” he said, offering a slight tip of his head in agreement. “ we’re not very good at them. ” his hand moved, then, deftly unbuttoning zo’s shirt, a clear indication that he was not quite done with him yet. not even close. instead of letting him move away and toward the door, monty splayed that same hand across the well-defined muscles of his chest, slowly moving down and across the ridges of his abs. “ but you know what we are good at ? ” 

        the question — entirely rhetorical, of course — was punctuated by the sound of slender fingers making short work of zo’s belt buckle. instead of waiting for an answer, he closed the short distance zo had created between them, fervently resuming the kiss. monty didn’t bother resisting temptation any longer, his hand slipping between fabric and skin as it continued its interrupted journey downward. he pulled away, a mirror of what zo had done before, but stayed close enough that their lips brushed when he spoke. “ do you still want to leave ? ”

[mvntague]

—      JACE .

TIME :    february 9th, 9:47pm. LOCATION :    outside, wherever monty is. STATUS :    closed / @mvntague.

     ── it was unclear, to jace, what his present enthusiasm had grown from— either a runoff of the relief from a job well done, or simply an antsy reaction to some unused adrenaline —but it didn’t much matter, really. the heist had gone well, maybe even better than expected. while jace was relieved with this, keeping him in high spirits all day, the success had perhaps left something to be desired. he’d learned to expect the worst, and being countered with relative routineness had left him somewhat unfulfilled. and excess energy was never something he’d be able to just sit on, wait for it to die a natural death. he’d drag it out himself.

and so that’s where monty came in, a witness to whatever jace had in store for the evening. his understandably on-edge mood from the last heist had since filled out into something he was more comfortable with, a drive for anything stupid and fun and high-speed. pulling himself up from the driver’s seat, jace slid to sit on the edge of the open window, ducking his upper body out of the cab of the car and into the night air. he wasn’t exactly being subtle, he knew that, but they’d spent the day before as a well-oiled machine of careful plans, and he’d run out of restraint for it.

jace hadn’t really given monty the furthest heads-up to his incoming arrival, texting out the afterthought upon realizing that some warning was probably in order. still, he’d never been very willing to wait for anything, working out his impatience with the drumming of his hands on the roof of that night’s car. it’d taken a while to find the right ride but he was proud of this one, rich black and sleek enough that it caught and reflected the lights of the city, clearly pretty unridden with stiff breaks and not so much as a hairline scratch on its body. he wasn’t sure how long either of those things would last.

“come on,” he pressed as soon as monty rounded into his vision, grin lighting up in the hum of the streetlights, “you don’t have plans, right ?” it sounded less like a question than it probably should have been ; jace was in a good mood, and the itch of nerves that brought up was one he was ever eager to satiate. “dunno know where we’re going, but we’re going.”

        waking up alone was hardly something monty was used to. far more often, he was the one slipping back out into the night, shirt untucked and hair a little wilder than it had been when he’d entered — but not today. instead, he’d watched through sleep-lidded eyes as zo had moved around his bedroom pre-dawn, gathering his clothes as his body heat faded from the sheets. monty had bidden him farewell with a half-mumbled ‘ta luego and a firm kiss, dragging zo down to his level with the same grip on his tie as he’d done hours before. 

        in contrast, much of the rest of the day had been spent in his own company. the feeling of victory that accompanied a successful heist had settled on him like a crown, tipping his chin a little higher and setting the look on his face to be a little more self-satisfied than usual. there were few things monty loved more than a good ego stroking, and there were fewer still that could beat out pulling off grand-scale art heists as a guaranteed way to send his confidence sky-high.

        the moment the text had come in, interrupting his mental victory lap, a grin had immediately overtaken his face. sliding into jace’s passenger seat meant adrenaline rushes so intense his heart pounded in his ears, meant laughing until he though his stomach would give out, meant talking jace’s ear off until he was sure he was going to leave him on the side of the highway for good. there was never any surefire way to tell what sort of antics jace intended on dragging him into, but that was half the fun of it. he wasn’t signing up for the delinquency, really, though that held its own sort of fun. he was signing up for jace.

        he hadn’t really had plans of any kind — unless snagging a caramel frappuccino while blasting cardi b in his eardrums a few hours earlier was widely considered to be plans — so he’d been thrilled, frankly, to walk outside and see jace sitting ( read: half hanging out of ) his car du jour. “ patience is a virtue, asshole, ” monty tossed back, though the comment was mostly ruined by the matching grins adorning their expressions. he skirted the hood of the car and whistled lowly in appreciation, hopping into the passenger seat. “ nice ride. buy it yourself ? ” he joked. tilting his head toward jace, monty shrugged amiably, ready for anything. “ maybe inspiration will hit us on the way. you never know. ”

[nocontextgoodplace]

[mvntague]

date & time: february 7th, 2019 / midday. location: monty’s range rover, en route to manhattan. status: closed / @evesinclair.

        the drive from HQ to his apartment in the upper east side had never been all that difficult, but it could definitely be boring. after shuttling himself back and forth between the city and the suburbs for three years ( and counting ), he knew the route like the back of his hand, operating more on muscle memory than actual brainpower as he navigated his way through city block after city block. and what better way to spice things up than bring along the resident delinquent of delinquents ?

        he liked eve. that was the thing, wasn’t it ? it seemed like half the group was always up her ass, lecturing her or talking down to her or anything in between. monty could never be bothered to do the same — roman and dante could be a little intense, to put it lightly, and eve was easy to get along with. not everything had to be so goddamn serious all the time. sure, monty had really grown to enjoy being part of the elaborate planning and execution of the heists, but that didn’t mean he’d lost his ability to let loose. and eve, regardless of any misgivings she might possess, had proven herself to be an expert in the art of dicking around.

        “ eve ! ” he called as he pulled the car around in front of HQ, sticking his head out of the driver’s side window in an attempt to get her attention. monty steadfastly refused to honk the horn to alert his arrival, mostly because he wasn’t a heathen. “ come on, get in. places to go, people to see, et cetera. roman will probably lose his mind if we don’t arrive with enough time to quintuple-check everything. ” 

[mvntague]

—      ZO .

      the voice tore through his troubled reverie despite it’s well intentioned tone.  in fact, it took a few pounding heartbeats for zo to remember that he was the stranger in the lavish apartment.  it was his presence that was out of place, not monty’s.   but maybe the sudden change of no longer pondering the weight of what he had done in solitude wasn’t what had accelerated his heart rate. maybe it was something else entirely.

      maybe it was the fact that this charismatic, perfectly charming and intoxicating man basically took over any room he was in.  it was infuriating and enticing all at once.

     which is why zo couldn’t help but steal a glance when monty came to a stop beside him, even if it was a brief one.   pristinely dressed as always, probably more so for the day’s adventure, he stood composed but relaxed.  he wondered, for a brief moment, if he was ever going to get to see the real monty, or if he was just a pawn in another one of his games, another distraction from mediocrity.  after the weight of the day, that was a question for some other time.  better suited for a confessional rather than an extravagant setting such as this one.

      “no estoy celebrando.”  he countered with a half shrug, helping himself to another sip. “this…trip…wasn’t exactly what i thought i was signing up for.  i’m way more comfortable holed up with gen or kit somewhere watching from the sidelines, rather than–”  lying, abetting, breaking an oath–  he cut himself off, verbally and mentally, taking a longer drink this time in a pathetic attempt to calm the guilt that burned in the pit of his stomach.  he forced a smile, shaking off the bad vibes of where his mind had been heading.

      ”didn’t expect you back so soon, lindo.  thought i might get one or two of these in before i got in trouble.  i never did get to see a view like this when i lived here.   the view’s a lot different in midtown.”  a chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he turned to face monty daring another drink as he caught the other man’s eyes.  his gaze lingered, flicking quickly to smirking lips.  he licked the lingering beer from his own, returning his eyes back to where they belonged.   somehow, this view was significantly more impressive, but he would be damned if he said that out loud.

      ”¿te divertiste con dante?” he quirked an eyebrow, a bemused grin on his face, already knowing the answer to the question.  “or is that why you’re back so soon?”

        “ no ? ” monty tilted his head slightly, reaching out to wrap his fingers around zo’s tie as he spoke. the urge to play up his little casanova persona was never strong, per se. necessary, sometimes. a habit, mostly. right now, he couldn’t quite tell if the performance was for himself or his companion. both, perhaps. he was about to make some comment about coming over to the dark side, a lighthearted and teasing quip, but something about zo’s inability to fully articulate his role in the heist today made him hesitate. that, and —

       lindo, zo had dubbed him, and monty still found himself resisting the urge to grin like a fool every time he heard it. it felt some ridiculous schoolgirl instinct, bubbling up in his chest so fast it nearly took his breath away. instead, he replaced it with the flirtatious smirk that adorned his lips much more often, noting zo’s glance downward with satisfaction. so. he still had it. the confirmation was never much of a surprise anymore, but it still felt good. a part of him wondered if this was too dangerous of a game to play — if he should even be playing with someone like zo, still one of the good guys — but, like the instinct to smile genuinely, he sidestepped the thoughts completely. 

        “ it’s even more beautiful in the daytime. you can see right out over central park. ” though zo seemed content to take swigs of his beer and make idle conversation, monty’s one track mind demanded something very, very different. in order to effectively distract both of them, monty tightened his grip on zo’s tie, tugging on it with just the right amount of force to bring him closer. zo was a large man, there was no denying that, but he was already here, already close enough to touch. the resistance they both claimed in the daylight was a stranger in this moment, a fleeting memory that was gladly willed away in favor of the thought of removing the thin layers of fabric separating the two of them. 

         he couldn’t help the ( rather undignified ) snort that left his mouth at the mention of dante. his usual control slipped for a split second, allowing something usually deigned unappealing to have the audacity to associate itself with him. and yet, in typical monty fashion, it somehow managed to humanize him, bring him down from his untouchable pedestal and present him as someone tangible. someone real. 

        “ que no, ” he protested, rolling his eyes. “ tengo mucho respeto por él, pero... ” he shrugged, as if it were obvious. “ i wasn’t exactly about to ask him out for a celebratory drink. ” he paused, the coy little smile creeping back onto his features. “ especially not when i have company. it would’ve been rude of me to keep you waiting much longer. ” monty glanced pointedly down at the beer in zo’s hand, raising an eyebrow before meeting his gaze once more. “ speaking of being rude — i should let you finish your drink. i’m being an awful host. ” he didn’t bother moving away as he spoke; after all, it wasn’t really like either of them were under the illusion that he cared about his abilities as a host. he cared much, much more about whether zo had the willpower to let him move away.

[mvntague]

—      MARI .

date: feb 7, 2019 –– late that night. location: monty’s bougie upper east side apartment status: closed – @mvntague

     “ you know, monty, ” marisol moved through his apartment, bottle of moscato that costed more than the car she’d had in miami dangling from her fingertips, “ had i not gotten to know you over the past few months, i might’ve just swiped your wallet, stolen your identity, emptied your accounts, and called it quits––… ”

     her voice trailed off as she moved to look at a painting that hung over one of his couches. delicate brush strokes wove into something absolutely grand, something mari could never create in her wildest of dreams. yasmeen, though, could probably replicate it in her sleep, and monty didn’t have to–– he had the money to buy the original. her gaze followed the strokes of pastel pinks and ocean blues, and for a moment, she wondered what’d it be like to create something like it, to own something like it; soon, she’d know what it was like to steal something like it.

     “ but my moral compass is slightly more aligned than that, ” marisol sighed, swiveling and flopping onto the couch. as she allowed herself to sink into the cushions, she glanced over at him, lifting a finger to point in his direction, “ also––… i’ve decided i like you too much. ”

     she tilted her head back, looking at the painting now above her, and nerves began to churn in her stomach. raising the bottle to her lips, she took another long drink to combat the tightening of her chest and the flood of negativity circling her brain, a stream of consciousness that sounded a lot like you’re gonna fuck up, you’re gonna fuck up, you’re gonna fuck up.

     mari squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before sitting up and setting the bottle on a coffee table. settling back into the soft fabric. she pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around them in a hug. a heavy exhale passed her lips, and then, “ what’d you hit on your first heist with roman and dante ? and did you feel crappy beforehand or is this just a singular thing ? ”

        “ steal ? from me ? mari, you wouldn’t. ” his wounded tone is playfully false, one that’d be accompanied by a hand over his heart if he were in her line of sight. he picked up a glass of whiskey, neat, from where he’d set it on the kitchen counter. sure, he absolutely preferred something drowning in juice of some kind — a tequila sunrise, maybe, or sex on the beach — but in this moment, he was hard-pressed to make himself something that took more effort than tipping the contents of a single bottle into a glass. it also amused him, occasionally, to tip his hand toward leaning into the old money stereotypes. he was well aware that he fulfilled most of the requirements, so why not push it that much more ?

        “ oh, yes, tell me all about your moral compass, ” he replied, notes of mocking threaded throughout his tone. “ i don’t think any of us qualify for using that phrase. except our resident boy scout, quizá. ” at the unintentional slip and mention of zo, monty tipped back his head to finish the rest of his drink, snagging the bottle from its resting place to pour himself another. 

        before joining her in the other room, he paused for a moment as she spoke, smiling despite himself at her ‘decision’ to like him. it seemed silly, almost, yet endearing. though mari hadn’t been part of their little group for very long, monty had quickly taken a shine to her ( at least, once she’d decided to actually show some personality for once — before that, it’d been dodgy ).

        “ well, it was a lot less intense, for starters, ” he said, approaching the couch and batting her feet away to clear room for himself. “ so, no. i wasn’t really nervous. we’d never done it before, so there was less to live up to. we hit a private collection, snagged some works by matisse. ” his head lolled to the side, meeting her eyes. “ no te preocupes, mari. you’ll be great tomorrow. i know it, and i have never been wrong. ever. ”

[mvntague]

—      ZO .

when: february 8;; 11:58pm where: monty’s upper east side apartment who: closed to @mvntague​

      when dante had first convinced (coerced) zo into this whole schtick, zo never expected to actually be on the scene for it.  pulling files, burying evidence, helping to pull strings: all thing he had expected; not lying to the face of someone he’d once considered a friend.

      the whole scam went without incident.  he’d played the lie, talking tyler– a fellow ex-nypd officer– up and down, drawing his focus so flo could do her work unhindered.  if the whole thing had in fact been a coincidence, a happenstance meeting of two old colleagues, zo might have even found the encounter uplifting.  but as he made his way up fifth avenue reflecting on it, a knot of guilt wound tight in his gut.  even with all of his quantico training, lying– especially to people he knew were good people– never sat well with him.

      it certainly didn’t help that he had time to kill.  the only way to get down to the city on a week day meant telling the office he was following a lead; which meant not being able to head back upstate until the next day.  something he now regretted mentioning to monty as he entered the lavish looking lobby of an apartment building.  the key to the sat heavy in his pocket.  he knew he shouldn’t be here, yet here he was.  he knew he shouldn’t have been at the frick house, aiding and abetting, yet there he was.  he’d dug his hole for the day, now he had to lie in it.  

      and who said he had to lie in it alone.

      when he walked in, the ambiance of the place somehow surprised him and made a lot of sense all at once.  it was all very…monty.  zo slipped off this suit jacket and hung it on a hook near the door.  rolled up sleeves and a loosened black tie followed.  he’d dressed for his real job, but somehow it fit his side work.  he took his time making his way through the apartment, taking in the surroundings and trying not to plaster too much of a smile on his face, not that there was anyone to see it.

      make your self at home.  monty had said, that ever-present flirtatious smirk on his face and glint in his eye, so zo grabbed a beer from the fridge and continued his self-guided tour.  he took a long sip, slipping his free hand in his pocket as he landed in front of a massive window that offered an admittedly impressive view.   drinking’s a bad idea, his conscious muttered at the back of his mind and so is being alone here.  you told yourself last time was the end of it. why are you here?

      if he wasn’t busy arguing with his own thoughts, he might have heard the door open behind him. 

        though the style and color palette of his wardrobe were typically much bolder than zo’s, monty had veered closer to the agent’s standard men in black type outfit than he would usually ever dare. his only consolation was that he’d chosen a suit with a subtle houndstooth print — givenchy, of course — for his little endeavor with dante that day. 

        their endeavor, speaking of, had gone off without a hitch. because of course it had, between monty’s lofty yet smothering rich-boy condescension and dante’s frankly ridiculous attention to detail. monty was good with dates, times, faces, places; to him, it was an art, a carefully concocted web of lies and half-truths. to dante, it was a science, everything in its logical place, the left brain to his right. they worked flawlessly, and monty strode out of the frick collection wearing both his houndstooth suit and the quiet smugness of someone far too used to success. 

        once he’d parted ways with the walking killjoy that was dante, there was little left to do except brace himself for the brisk walk back to his apartment. monty, snob that he was, steadfastly refused to enter a subway station unless he was dragged, kicking and screaming. call him spoiled, but a lifetime of chauffeurs and luxury cars had left him with a particular disdain for getting up close and personal with the sights and smells of nyc’s subway system. it wasn’t as if he could pay for first class. not even business class. to add insult to injury, it didn’t make sense to order an uber ( uberBLACK, of course, he wasn’t a heathen ) when he lived less than a mile from the frick collection. overall, a goddamn tragedy.

        regardless of his transportation, the fact of the matter was that monty had a much shorter trip home than usual. for once, they were on his home turf, which was jarring and convenient all at the same time. he was used to heists in other states, at the very least, where it would take him a certain length of time and mileage to get home. now, all he had between him and his front door was a dwindling number of new york city blocks. his thoughts drifted as he meandered down fifth avenue, settling unwillingly on what — who — awaited him when he arrived back at his apartment.

        he’d promised himself it wouldn’t happen again. promised zo, even, not that he held that one in as much high regard. monty, for all his enthusiasm when it came to the bedroom, was also very aware of the concept of not shitting where he ate. even so, slipping a key into zo’s hand had hardly been a thought, more of a reflex when he’d mentioned his inability to return upstate directly after the heist. he knew his flirtatious tone had been more than clear, but that was half the problem. it wasn’t as if he lacked opportunity for fulfilling that type of need, after all. but zo was close by, zo was unfairly attractive, and monty was hard-pressed to look much further now that he possessed, ahem, intimate knowledge of what zo kept hidden underneath his basic white button downs. 

        and speak of the devil — though he was the one that’d extended the invitation in the first place, monty still found himself a little surprised by the sight of zo standing in his living room. “ buenas, ” he offered, half in greeting and half in warning of his presence, shutting the door quietly behind him. his suit jacket made its home next to what he could only assume was zo’s, his shirt long since unbuttoned to expose the hollow of his throat. “ started celebrating a successful heist without me, i see, ” he added, nodding to the beer in zo’s hand. 

[mvntague]

the forger

what comes most naturally to you ? do you ever resent your natural talents ?

        “ i don’t think my honest answer is very appropriate, ” he murmurs, chuckling softly to himself. he’s got charm that’s always set to on, even when the situation doesn’t remotely call for it. “ but aside from that, you could also say i’ve got the gift of gab. that’s what they call it, right ? ” monty’s nose scrunches up ever-so-slightly, a split second of curated cuteness that he uses to endear himself to those privy to the momentary reflex. 

        “ ah, but – do i resent it ? yes and no. not very helpful, i know, but it’s the truth. ” the answer depends on the day; it depends on who’s using him. he resents his father every so often, loath as he is to be associated with anything resembling daddy issues. but roman ? the group ? never. they’ve offered him freedom. for the boy who has everything, that’s the gift he’s always wanted to be given. 

[mvntague]

ringleader

what is your greatest failure ? have you grown from it or does it still haunt you ?

        “ bold of you to assume i have ever deigned to fail, ” he says wryly, tipping his chair back onto two legs. quincy, his mind supplies helpfully, and he swipes it away with a swift internal flick. “ i’ve always though that failure was rather unattractive, so i decided against participating in the concept as a whole. ” quincy, it urges, and the smug look on his face slips for a millisecond. quincy, it repeats for a third time, taking advantage of his momentary hesitation. quincy would be alive if it wasn’t for you. “ considering my position on the first question, the second seems rather irrelevant, don’t you think ? ”

[thievesrpg]

Before we open for interactions, we thought a good way to start getting to know everyone and their characters was with an ask meme ( this one’s for you, Em ) ! We based the questions off of the skeleton names. If you want to participate, reblog this! Be sure to send some to everyone who reblogs this post. 

Have fun, go wild!

Keep reading

[tylerposey]

I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are.

[theshitneyspears]

Me sober: “New Rules” by Dua Lipa Me after one tequila shot: “Boys” by Charli XCX

[cluts]

You're so self centred

who else am i supposed to be centred on