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@ofmancini-blog
Look at us telling each other lies and lies about how we felt about how it was just one night about how it didn’t affect me nor you. Here’s the truth: I think I actually like you more than I intended to.
a book I’ll never write (via tonkinwrites)
corvnosa:
being shot was exhausting and she wondered how the assassins of this gang of misfits did it. how did they recover so well and so quickly? if she twisted the wrong way then it meant her bandaging was being pulled, a sneeze or a cough or a laugh meant her bandaging was being pulled and annoyingly enough even the wrong fabric was uncomfortable. she knew it was only like this because they were just about to hit the two day mark so it wasn’t like she was close to healing but noah had said it looked fine. corvina spent her day between sleeping, eating small portions, getting up to brush her teeth or to go to the restroom and then sleeping again. she’d been tired of rookies and others trying to visit her so she asked kenzo to only let a selected few in, one of them being wes and while sure she had been hopeful… she hadn’t expected anything. looking up she decided that they knew each other too well to even try to put up a front, though the softness of his voice did make her pause. ❝well. i’m not on fire anymore. i’ll survive. come in, sit down.❞
“ stings, doesn’t it? those bitches hurt like hell. ” he mumbled, stepping in and standing over her bed. wes crossed his arms over his chest, growing quiet as he scanned her wounds. they weren’t too bad. she survived, didn’t she? he always figured that if anything ever tried to hurt her he’d be right there, making sure it didn’t, but he wasn’t. she had been shot and he’d been nowhere in sight. that was probably for the best as he remembered what happened with santiago. he stepped closer and sat gently on the edge of her bed, feeling a bit awkward. these were foreign situations to him. wes wasn’t entirely sure how to act or what to do. “ i guess you can join the club now. ” he lifts up his shirt, showing her his deep scar from an old bullet that had never been taken out. she’s seen it before but it just makes sense to show her again. wes lets his tank top slide right back down his abdomen as he lets out a sigh. “ did they say how long that’ll take to heal? ” he’s trying to make conversation at this point, not knowing what else to say.
fastxdious:
Of fucking course Wesley Mancini wouldn’t follow the ONLY rule they had, it was a buddy system for fucks sake! You only had to stick with your buddy, it sounds a bit grade school now that he thinks of it like that; like Wesley might ask him to PROM next or a zoo field trip. He’s concerned that he’d still say yes either way. It’s the next day now, things are simmering down, although it’s less simmered on a surface level. Corvina got shot, some rookie who’s name he can’t recall ( nor does he care to be honest, beyond the action itself being disrespectful ) DIED. It’s not a good look for them, but it’s easily remedied, he hopes. He still hasn’t caught sight of his ‘not date, date’ since everything, since the man ran off in the heat of the moment after his siblings; part of him can’t blame the man he supposes ( he would have done the same for his ‘baby’ brother ) and at the time he’d been far more angry than he is now. Having the time to think in between had been somewhat of a blessing, it kept him from flying off the handle at least– to think mostly rationally. Santiago hears footsteps fall behind him and perhaps it’s the dark, or perhaps it’s just given everything that happened but it leaves him paranoid. He finds himself pivoting around, hand falling to his pistol like he’s going to draw the damn thing out. He’s not scared, far from it, just cautious. “Dios mío,” He spits out, accent heavy as he see’s who it is, speak or rather think of the Devil! “I should still fucking shoot you Mancini.” He pulls his hand away from his holster, dropping it to the side as he looks at Wes, he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know where to start. Maybe ‘I was worried about you…’ would be as good a thing to say as any, it was the TRUTH after all. ”You know Adrian is probably gonna find out about you leaving me, right? I can’t keep that shit from him. It’s not like before, he’s back now.” The before being Wes’s previous fuck up while Adrian was away in jail, so much for telling the man he was WORRIED… ”I’m probably going to be chewed the fuck out too…” He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh; it was always easier to get mad at the other man than anything else. “So gracias por ese gilipollas.” As if Wes knew what he was saying, but the more he thought about it the more he couldn’t help but get worked up. They should have all just dipped the fuck out as fast as possible last night and maybe they wouldn’t have to deal with things today, you hear gunshots you run– or you fire back if that’s how you SURVIVE. You don’t stick around looking for people, they’re all his family of course don’t get him wrong…but at the end of they day they ALL knew what this life was. Corvina got lucky and he’s thankful for that ( fuck is he so thankful for that ), that rookie however… but Santiago thinks all of this could have been avoided somehow. Maybe they’d all just gotten used to complacency, like they’d all really been a family and they hadn’t ever created enemies that would kill them! It’s every man for themselves, so why was he even worried about if Wes had been alive, god he feels so stupid. @ofmancini
He feels like absolute shit. The entire night before had been a fuckin’ nightmare and as soon as he’d gotten Dakota back to headquarters, Wes had disappeared. He’d gone home, fed Duke, and went to bed. There had been no sleep that night, just hours and hours of thinking. God, he fuckin’ hated when he did that. He hated thinking because it led to bad decisions or disappointment. Fuck, even after all these years, he still hadn’t gotten used to people not meeting decent expectations. It made no sense, for him to expect anything out of anyone, so he did his best to ignore them. Part of him was convinced he was losing his goddamn mind. The other part wondered if the thoughts consumed of Santiago had made him weak. He really needed to get a hold of himself.
At this rate, he would probably feel better had he been shot. At least the pain would be more physical than emotional. Declan’s confession the night before has him all fucked up, reliving the past in the worst way possible. He’s considered calling Clover, asking her if she knew, asking her why she came after the two of them when she was so much better without. Did he do this? Was this his fault? All he’d ever wanted was to make sure Declan had all of the opportunities he never had. His brother was smart --- he deserved a good life, a chance at something better. He’d given up so much for Declan, had even gone against Adrian’s orders, and now he found himself gutted.
There’s only one person he wants to see. Even though he knows Santiago will chew his ass out just as Adrian did, he deserves it. In fact, he wants Santiago to yell at him and scream about how he’s the shittiest person alive. He’ll be honest, he always is. At least Wes will just hear what he already knows to be true. There’s no pity, no sadness, nothing. It’s all just facts at this point. He walks up to the other, biting the inside of his cheek, eyes locked on Sans’ gun. “ Yeah, you should. ” he chuckles, hands stuffed in his pockets. The man would never shoot him, he knows that, but wonders if he would consider if Wes did something truly awful. It was like... what’s that story? The one where they kill the dog with rabies? You gotta know when to put a sick dog down.
“ He already knows, chewed my ass out for it. You should have told on me in the first place. You should have told him about everything. I know I asked you not to say anything but you should have went behind my back and put yourself first. ” Wes’ first priority was usually protecting himself. Why would Santiago actually listen to him and protect him over himself? He’s not sure where he’s going with this. What would Adrian even do if he knew the full story? Bench him? Kick him out? Have him killed? All good choices.
“ I told him none of that was your fault. It wasn’t. ” He licks his lips, turning away. It’s cold outside and that’s the first second he notices. His face is freezing but it makes him feel alive. He glances up, looking at the pitch black sky, no stars in sight. Good ol’ pollution, not that he’s ever cared to see the stars. Wes sighs, shaking his head. “ I don’t even know what the fuck that means. If you’re going to yell at me, at least do it in English. ” The night would have been so much different if Wes had just taken Sans up to a room the moment the ball started. They would have been together and Adrian’s buddy system rule would have been upheld. It’s what he should have done and he regrets not doing it. There were a lot of things he regretted about that night, but leaving Santiago was at the tip top of his list.
Wes clenches his jaw, stepping closer, finally looking back at Sans. “ I shouldn’t have left you, period. I’m sorry. ” he apologizes through gritted teeth but it’s an apology nonetheless. There’s the lump in his stomach again. He lifts a hand to rub his beard, something he hasn’t shaved in a while. “ I mean, fuck, Corvina almost died. I kept thinking, you know, what if that was you? I left you... and you could have fucking died. ” It would have been his fault, but that was besides the point. Apart from Adrian, Santiago was one of the best people the gang had. He shakes his head, teeth biting into his bottom lip and he turns away once more. Another person dying because of him has never been a concern, but Santiago? That shit scares him. “ I can’t be the reason you die. ”
👻 snapchat → open
dvkotacho:
DAKOTA: but i thought we bonded :( DAKOTA: it’s game of thrones, you old fart
WES: you thought me saving ur life was bonding ?? WES: fuck you now u can watch the show alone
nvdiasong:
she’s angry, it’s not a surprise. every cell in her body is screaming to grab a bat and go swinging at those piece-of-shit-motherfucking. it’s not an overreaction, she tells herself. they’d killed that kid for no reason other than having had the misfortune to be the random member they chose. she loads the pistol and fires three more rounds into the head of a target, and in her blind rage lets the slide kick straight back into her hands. she hisses and drops the gun sending another shot off into the wall. quelling the tears that come she grabs a stack of bandages on a bare table and looks up as she hears footsteps. “nobody’s dead here, if that’s what you’re coming to ask.”
he’s not in a good mood, but when is he ever? adrian chewed his ass out for breaking the rules, sans is mad at him ( as always ), and his trust for declan is slowly melting away. everything is falling to shit and just as he wants to shoot his gun a billion fuckin’ times, there’s already someone in his place. someone who can’t even use a gun. god, why can no one in a goddamn gang actually use a gun? he enters, watching her, arms crossed over his torso. it’s when she drops the gun that he’s sent scrambling in an effort to dodge the bullet’s path. “ are you out of your fucking mind?! ” his voice roars, stepping forward toward her. “ if you can’t properly use a gun, then guess what? you shouldn’t fucking have one! ” wes bends down to pick up the gun, switching the safety on and putting it on his belt. a redemption gift for adrian. “ as if our medics don’t have enough shit on their hands. ”
👻 snapchat → open
dvkotacho:
DAKOTA: can you come over DAKOTA: and watch got w/ me DAKOTA: & bring food pls
WES: wtf is got WES: also no
adrianrcse:
upon realizing that wes wasn’t about to give himself up– not that adrian had given him much time to admit– he takes the initiative. there’s a humorless chuckle that leaves his lips at the pathetic act played out in front of him. he was lucky his partner hadn’t gotten hurt. “ what the FUCK were you thinking, mancini ?? ” his voice booms through the office, an odd occurrence for adrian but necessary. “ you fucking left santiago back there. did you not get what i said about the damn BUDDY SYSTEM ? do i need to write the god damn definition and staple it to your fucking forehead for you to listen ?? ”
there it is, the words he’s been waiting for. it wasn’t as if wes tried to hide the fact he’d returned without sans, but he didn’t think he’d been too obvious about it either. even if he doesn’t regret going after his brother, he does feel guilt for leaving santiago by himself. the whole thing was fuckin’ eating him up inside, if he was to be honest, which he couldn’t understand why. this, he knows, is a battle he cannot win. he doesn’t play to win, he plays to enjoy himself, but this is adrian. there is no enjoyment in talking back to the fucking boss. “ i was thinking my brother doesn’t know how to use a gun. ” he admits. he’s never lied to adrian and that won’t start now. “ he does, though, i just... i didn’t know. ” wes sucks in a breath, clenching his jaw. he’s lookin’ like a goddamn idiot. “ can we not pretend like santiago can’t handle himself? he’s good with a gun AND he’s smart. ” suddenly, he realizes it sounds like he’s putting blame on sans. “ this is my fuckin’ fault, okay? not his, not declan’s, not anyone else’s. you take all of this out on me. i... i left him behind but trust me, it won’t happen again. ” all the bases had been covered, right?
jamienichols:
he didn’t know anyone was in that particular room. otherwise, the exhausted dealer ( who had no real interest in speaking to anybody at the moment ) would have backtracked and went back to his apartment. and upon seeing wes, he very nearly did — but the other man’s words caught him in the chest and reeled him further in the room. “ oh, thank god ! ” he exclaimed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “ you’re not under the delusion you’re the best looking anymore. i’m so proud of you, wes. truly. ” unafraid, jamie plops down in another chair, never looking away from wes. “ how’’s it fuckin’ hangin’, honey ?? ”
“ is that what you think i meant? shit, your head really is shoved that far up your own ass! hey, at least you removed the stick from up there, i’m sure that thing was givin’ you a rash. ” he flashed a smile, leaning back in his chair and extending his arms over the back. it was these moments he cherished the most, being able to tear jamie a new one without having to put a bullet between his eyes. that shit always got so messy. “ pretty fuckin’ amazing! i know you can’t understand, but getting laid is one of the many joys in life i’m so thankful to do so frequently. even got a huge blood stain out of one of my suits this morning, things are looking up! ”
fchrenheit:
he can’t avoid his brother forever. just like he apparently couldn’t avoid the truth forever. near the end, though, he hadn’t even been trying – he’d done this to himself, entirely voluntarily. after having managed the facade for so long, it felt like a bit of a betrayal. he had betrayed himself. he walks through the doorway to find wes in the room, and doesn’t turn around and flee. instead, he gives his brother a curt nod. on his way over to what he came to get, he asks: “how are things?” @ofmancini
it was a constant pull and tug, him trying to be a better man. as much as he knew whatever efforts he gave would end up being bullshit, there were certain opportunities he couldn’t pass up. helping dakota back to headquarters instead of barging back in was one of them. leaving his brother in the dust was another. for fuck sake, he had broken adrian’s rules for the asshole, only to have the man throw the past back in his face. even when he did try, even when he did care, it all crumbled into shit. “ yeah, you can go ahead and get the fuck out. ” he hisses, making a hand motion toward the door. “ here, while you’re at it, you can have your knife. it was lodged into my fuckin’ back, you piece of shit. ” he had stuck his neck out for declan time and time again, only to be lied to and betrayed. had it come to the point where he couldn’t even trust his siblings anymore?
adrianrcse:
his stress level ever since the incident had rocketed incredibly. he wasn’t usually one to lash out on the members but sometimes it needed to be said. which was why he gathered wes to his office. because he had a lot of explaining to do. when he arrived, adrian was looking down at some papers, trying to figure out the blue prints of kristoff’s hotel and where he might’ve gone. “ sit, we got a lot of shit to discuss. ”
he nods at the instructions, stepping into the room and taking a seat across from adrian. it’s not easy for him to follow rules, that much is obvious, but he’s always done his best to do what the boss has asked. his siblings, though? they come first and as much as they can momentarily cloud his judgement, that will never change. the two of them fucked that up the second they joined. “ okay, what’s up? ” maybe there was a chance adrian had no idea what had happened. he wasn’t about to sell himself out if that wasn’t the case.
@corvnosa ;
it hadn’t taken long to find out where everyone had ended up. regretfully he’d been one of the first people back at headquarters after the chaotic night. he knew it looked bad, selfish, and it was one of the first things he’d done that had not been for himself. everyone was okay, or, alive at least. the second he’d heard about corvina’s predicament he’d been determined to see her. he had been avoiding her for good reason but he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her, ever. fuck. as much as he figured he should let her rest, he needed to see her. he needed to know she was actually okay. leaning against the doorframe, wes peered in the room to see if she was awake. “ corv? ” his voice came out as a whisper as he stepped into the room, crossing toward her. recovering from a bullet wound was never comfortable, he knew that from experience. “ how you holdin’ up? ”
@adrianrcse ;
he’s not shocked that adrian has summoned him to the office. in fact, if anything, he had expected it. maybe not so goddamn formal and cryptic, but surely a situation where adrian was yelling at him. he’s ready, excuses and explanations gathered. a couple steps closer toward the closed door and wes gives a light knock, leaning his head against the wood to listen in. “ boss, you in here? ” he asks, already knowing the answer. slowly, he turns the knob and pushes the door open, peaking his head in. “ you... called for me? ”
We don’t mean to hurt each other but we do. and perhaps no matter how right we are for each other, we’ll always be a little too wrong.
Beau Taplin // W i t h o u t I n t e n t (via afadthatlastsforever)
The Nice Guys (2016) dir. Shane Black
event one:
masquerade ball.
fastxdious:
“Never said it was,” Santiago retorts back, giving his ‘classic’ eye roll; it was the most realistic concept, just perhaps not the one he wanted to hear. He’d be flattered by it really any other time, still is in all honesty. He likes his work to be noticed, likes to take credit where it’s due, so the fact that Wesley wants to take him out for purely work capabilities alone, was indeed still flattering. “True though, I’d rather not have to look out for someone else who can’t handle themselves, if I can help it.” Santiago didn’t mind playing babysitter to some degree, didn’t mind showing others the ropes, for something like this though, uncharted territory? Having one of the original members along with him, someone like Wes by his side– what could possibly go wrong? Nothing, he gathers at least and one hundred percent the reason he’d welcomed this, any feelings aside. “Settle down there amigo, I’m just fuckin’ with you.” He assures, although he doesn’t entirely believe the words he speaks. Santiago doesn’t get mad at the insinuation that he’s the one who wants this to be a date though, only because Wes doesn’t seem to have his usual tone when he implies it… it’s strange and something sort of wonderful that he doesn’t voice. “Of course I don’t want this as a date, you’d only break my sweet heart.” He places a hand on his chest dramatically and throws a playful joke back at the other, as if he has a sweet sensible heart; that’s the real joke, he thinks. Wesley had about as much of a chance to break his heart as he did his, it’s not as if Santiago was perfect either by any means. He wonders if either of them have hearts in the first place to B R E A K. Santiago can’t help but smirk just a little when Wes offers to let him take off whatever suit he’d be wearing, it’s a nice offer, one he half didn’t expect to get, so was the other interested still in him…or not? In sex again at the very least from what he gathers, although Wes thinking it was incredible should have gave him enough of a clue and now the wink is most definitely another. He hums in agreement, “That’s more than good enough for me.” He steps closer, closer than he had before, close enough to touch Wes if he wanted. He keys in on the jaw clench like a hawk going after it’s prey. If Wes wants to push his buttons too, then he’d see where it took them. Between the both of them there was more mixed signals than a bad phone tower. “The buddy system, hm, sure keep telling yourself that. You don’t want it to be a date but you’d let me take that suit off? What then you want another incredible night with me again, is that all– maybe if you shut me up that could be arranged.” Santiago pushes into Wes with one of his hands, shoving him a bit, although his hand doesn’t leave the other man. It’s not really aggressive, well it is ( when isn’t something aggressive with them ), but it’s mostly just him as usual trying to see what he can get away with.
“ There are people in this fuckin’ gang who don’t even know how to shoot a gun. A fuckin’ gun! We’re workin’ with goddamn amateurs here. ” Wes liked completing his missions and tasks on his own because if he fucked up, it was purely his fault. Which, besides recent events, was rarely. If he had someone with him to get in the way and distract him, then everything would be amiss. It still baffles him that they’re a stone cold gang where certain people still refuse to get their hands dirty. In the end, everyone has to be apart of getting their hands stained with blood, that’s just how it is. “ The last thing I need is someone else’s death on my hands because they didn’t know to protect themselves or let me do my shit. Do me a favor, Sans, and don’t die on my fuckin’ watch. ” He’s tempted to make a jab about Santiago’s age, about how the old man needs to watch himself before he gets a heart attack, but he doesn’t. For once, he keeps his mouth shut.
Wes squints at his words, giving a huff at his dramatic actions. He rolls his eyes to distract from the disappointment tempting to appear on his features. What was he expecting? For Santiago to confess his undying love for him? Fuck no. A clue maybe, a change in his voice or a shift in body language. There’s nothing, though, and that’s what gets him most. Is this whole bullshit really one-sided, does Sans really not give any fucks about the situation? Probably. “ As if you have one of those. ” He grins, holding back a grimace. Wes has always been convinced he doesn’t have a heart himself but goddamn if that thing isn’t trying to resurface itself. He wonders, for a second, if in some fucked up alternate universe where this was a date, if he would truly break Santiago’s heart. As shitty as he is, he doesn’t doubt it. Maybe keeping himself at bay and trying to suffocate whatever small feelings he has is the best idea. He can curse, yell, and shove Santiago but hurting him? Especially emotionally? No, he wouldn’t be guilty of that.
His own nature is to make a sexual joke out of everything, even if he had first ignored their night together. It was obvious it had happened and since they had briefly brought it up the last time they spoke, why couldn’t he joke about it? There was nothing to it. Nothing. There Sans goes, stepping forward again, almost enough to knock Wes back. He stands his ground, though, placing his feet firm on the concrete. Being flustered, feeling shit? No, that isn’t him, he won’t let it be. The whole situation is bullshit, he keeps telling himself. He’s fallen into some kind of pit that he’ll have to crawl his way out. As much as he wants to get mad, blame it all on Sans, to outright be angry about it would reveal just how much it’s affecting him. He’ll keep his cool, a blank expression on his face, and pretend everything is fine. Santiago has no reason to believe otherwise.
“ Since when does fucking you mean it’s a date? Dates are... romantic bullshit with feelings. That is the complete opposite of what this is. You gonna make this complicated, Rodriguez? ” he questions, throwing the man’s last name right back in his face. This time, when he’s lightly shoved, Wes stumbles back a few steps. Sans’ hand is warm, that’s the first thing he notices when he looks up. Fuck this asshole. God, he fucking hates this guy. No, no he doesn’t, but it would be so much easier than whatever else he feels toward Santiago. “ You know how I’m gonna shut you up? ” he asks, stepping forward and getting as close to the other as he can. It’s his time to retaliate. “ Not with a kiss, no, that’s too easy. I’m gonna take you up to one of those hotel rooms, rip off whatever fancy suit you’re wearing, bend you over one of those ugly ass coffee tables they have and fuck the shit out of you. ” He smirks, suddenly realizing he’s close enough to be pushing himself against Sans. It only lasts a moment, though, since he steps back a couple steps to distance himself. Good, he’s gotten the upper hand again. “ Though, that’ll have to wait until the masquerade ball. For right now, you should probably get back to the gun range. Who knows what the Spades will pull? I can’t have you missin’ shots! ”
He turns to leave, walking a couple feet before turning back to Santiago. “ Oh, and don’t forget, this isn’t a fuckin’ date. I don’t like you that much. ” Wes turns on his heels and walks out of the warehouse before Sans can one up him again.
@jamienichols
he sips on his beer, relaxing in one of the loungers in headquarters. wes has half a mind to kick back and take a nap, hopeful that no one would disturb his slumber. except, when he’s gotten too much faith in his actions, he spots someone enter the room from the corner of his eye. “ how’s it hangin, pretty boy? ” he calls, his words meant as an insult but he figures jamie will take it as a compliment. the guy’s too up his own ass. “ aw, don’t be shy, come take a fuckin’ seat! ”
