vengeful eye.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞 ? angel santiago. forty-eight. the desperado. james swan. thirty-five. the wise guy. dependent blog. 1959hqs.

[phated-blog1]

crepuscvlo‌:

        the  NOSTALGIC  tone  rumbling  from  angel’s  throat  brings  him  back  to  the  times  when  he’d  just  arrived  in  las  vegas  and  befriended  a  younger  angel,  and  the  elder  would  scold  him  messing  around  in  the  chop  shop.  eliseo  just  grins  knowingly  at  him  once  they  gaze  at  each  other.   ❛  ha  ha,  ❜  he  quips  when  angel  mentions  the  infamous  yacht,  slowly  shaking  his  head  side  to  side  with  a  roll  of  his  eyes.  ❛  it’s not  like  i  can  even  get  t’  the  sea  in  the  first  place  without  anyone  noticing.  we’re  fuckin’  land-locked,  ❜  eliseo  replies,  his  fingers  itching  to  reach  down  and  light  his  own  cigarette;  however,  he’s  trying  to  slow  down  his  usage.  eliseo  points  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  to  the  luxury  lincoln  capri  parked  behind  him.  ❛  anyway, where  in  the  HELL  did  ya’  find  that  ?  ❜

    “yeah? figured pauly woulda had it primed up in the coast already. good and ready for a mad escape.” it’s the only way angel can imagine pauly - or eliseo, for that matter - utilizing a yacht. he certainly can’t envision either of the men on vacation. angel’s gaze can’t leave eliseo’s face, doesn’t want to lock eyes with the car peeking over his shoulder. his demeanor doesn’t give away much, smoke curls in a noose above his head as he indulges in a patient drag. “y’know, you’d be surprised what the tourists are bringin’ in these days. probably the last one ever made, that.” he’d rather not dwell and shifts his weight against the trunk, pastes on a smile. “you’d know if you spent any time in the garage. you too good for the greasemonkeys these days, huh?”

[phated-blog1]

advscr‌:

         Ellie chugs her martini in one go, putting the glass down and immediately orders another one with a short quick rise of her hand. She turns to the other woman, a small smile graces her lips, “Pretty sure these people don’t need a reason to get drunk in the morning. St. patrick’s day just seems like an excuse to get hammered more than they probably would on a normal day. At least no one would judge them then.”

     “i suspect you’re right,” jo sighs smoke. her brow arches, nonplussed, as the woman effortlessly slams her drink. eventually her attention is stolen by the good citizens of this quaint little town. her back bows against the bar, elbow bent complacently against the marble top. “even a drinking holiday must be an unwanted reminder of reality. that a whole, snakeless world goes on out there beyond all the bright lights and fake trees.” her smirk is tight, pursed and perfunctory. she flashes a sidelong glance to ellie. “though i can’t imagine any of these people are the least bit concerned with being judged.”

[phated-blog1]

    “oh, las vegas,” joey hums around the end of her cigarette holder. she feigns weariness, condescension. there’s a secret smile plucking at the corners of her mouth as cat eyes sweep over the living, breathing caricature that is the strip. “only in this town do the people wake up, enjoy a few guinness, and then realize it’s st. patrick’s day.”

[rainbowkarolina]

[phated-blog1]

lucianomancini‌:

   it wasn’t the first time he’d been on the wrong side of the table, and he doubted it’d be the last. a price to pay when the few clean cops in the city were out for even a sliver of a break in the mancini’s long running elusiveness with the law. he had to give it to him, for the headaches they must of caused, knowing that every rumour was true but never getting quite close enough? it must really run him around the bend. it was a pity really, that his father—or another—hadn’t been able to sway him. for all jimmy was—he was dedicated—and luciano would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. if only he wasn’t going against his family. 

his gaze upon the detective was one that remained ingenuous, even as words baited for a reaction. if he was going to use pauly as way to trip him up, he’d chosen the wrong mancini to bring in. “no, detective, i can’t say that i do align myself with these sullivan folk —-  that is who you’re referring to, yes? that’s why i’m here? this whole despicable business with them leaving the body of an innocent man on our doorstep? because otherwise, i see no other reason for me to be sat here listening to you complement my shoes.”

    letting the mancinis run his around is a full time job. jimmy doesn’t mind, without them life would be boring. some of the cops on the force have a personal vendetta against the family, others are with the syndicate. jimmy finds himself just wanted the truth, but more often than not he’s chasing ghosts.

he’ll take whatever luciano decides to give him, especially if it’s one of the sullivans. the enemy of his enemy is his friend. “you believe it’s the sullivans who are responsible for that?” everyone believes so. still, the case is currently unresolved. “now what would the sullivan have against the midas hotel? dirty hotel room?” lips are in a tight line, a knit lives between his brow. jimmy’s curious, leaning forward. “have you noticed any of those sullivan folk lurking around the joint lately?”

[phated-blog1]

hey yall just wanted to apologize for being ignorant on the main earlier ! truly didn’t have that intent and it was a mistake ! 

ps, it’s my bf’s birthday tmrw so i won’t be online much other than to plot in the ims so feel free to hmu for that. all luv <3

[phated-blog1]

allsmilesandpincurls‌:

Betty opened her eyes,lowered her sunglasses and curved her lips into a smile as she sat up and turned to the man that had claimed the lounge chair next to hers. She hadn’t expected anyone to chat her up, especially because she hadn’t planned on staying for long. After work, she didn’t like to stick around the hotel much. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Sir, should I know you?” With a swift movement of her hand, she smoothed down the fabric of her skirt. “I don’t think I’m certain about what you mean.”

      “probably not,” he offers her a smirk. pauses before extending his hand. “forgive my manners, miss. i’m detective swan.” those words have a tendency to put the average citizen on edge, so he softens them with a breezy smile as he hooks his sunglasses into his breast pocket. “just taking in the sun,” jimmy clarifies. the girl seems sweet, quiet. probably not mob affiliated, but then those usually were the ones to watch out for. he inclines his head at her. “i believe i’ve seen you around here before. you work at the midas?”

[phated-blog1]

gviltys‌:

“what’s that expression? it’s five o’clock somewhere?” though she knows that it wouldn’t have stopped him even if that fact weren’t true. her eyes follow his movement as he makes it’s way over and she feels the overwhelming urge to join him, despite the hour of the day. it’s how she’s felt for the last week now, constantly wishing to find a reprieve from her current reality. but that’s not what’s expected of her in a time like this. 

still, his offer is too tempting to pass up, and having a drink with an old friend was not the same thing as wallowing in grief by herself. “i suppose i can spare ten minutes for you.” she offers a smile and takes a few steps forward, perching herself on the edge of a bar stool. “it’s what i have staff for, anyway.” turning to the bartender of the day, she orders a scotch — her usual. “how’ve you been, angel?”

       long fingers tap rhythmically against the bar until he can get his hands around a sweating glass of gin on the rocks. he takes a patient sip, considering her question. angel’s brows quirk, expression sardonic. “same as always. not much to tell. or, rather, the fact we’re sharing a drink before noon ought to tell it all.”

kat’s story, he imagines, is much different. he takes a beat, gauging her. “your turn.” wrist swivels, the ice clinking around in the glass. “whole lotta shit all at once?”

[phated-blog1]

gviltys‌:

“again, detective, i don’t know what you mean. are you feeling alright? you’re simply not making sense.” she leaned over, having the audacity to press the back of her hand against his forehead before brushing her hair over her shoulder. she’d never been the type to pull punches and given this was her terf, she feels far from threatened. “i’d rather have my husband.” she quips, and it’s not a lie. she’d much rather still have him by her side than full control of the midas. she knows exactly what he’s really asking, and her head lolls to the side to smile at him. “of course i am.”

she’s in half a mind to throw him out. she can tell that security has had it’s eyes her way since he sat beside her, it’d be more than easy. bet then again, she’s had no one to truly jerk around since before the funeral and she could use the distraction. “not at all. you should enjoy the water, it might calm your mind and help you realize why you don’t have a lady.”

   “think i’ll steer clear of the water. this suit’s no good soaking wet,” he nods his head coolly, eyes flitting over the bobbing heads around them. all their gazes tend to shift occasionally to the widow. jimmy presses his lips together, partly uneasy but mostly fascinated. this woman is like a queen to these people, most especially the other suited men who come in and out of the pool area. mancini soldiers, jimmy figures.

“y’know, you just might be able to use my help,” he suggests, tossing her a sidelong glance. “it’s no secret who else is in town. not sure it’s big enough for the both of you.”

[phated-blog1]

undcrstands‌:

jackie smirked when jimmy realized the opening he’d given her, reaching out to lower his finger. “i can’t believe you just wagged your finger at me, sir.” she clicked her tongue at him and shook her head disapprovingly despite the grin that still lingered on her face.

her expression softens (although only minutely) when the moment passes and she hums thoughtfully. “how do i know you have something worth me knowing?” she asked, gently poking the toe of her shoe against his ankle. “y’know, normally i’d press you more but you really look like you’ve been to hell. i haven’t really spoken to anybody; everybody’s been a little on edge. but, lucky for both of us, i am the queen of eavesdropping.”

   “i got it, jack, i’m not lookin’ good,” his tone reads as a warning, feigning offense, but he’s smirking, rolling his eyes at her. eventually jimmy sighs, folds his arms up on the bartop. “and, well, i’ve got fuck all. turns out the mob keeps a pretty tight lip.” which is why he’s lucky to have the reporter around. though she proves to be a consistent pain in his ass, she’s also much easier on the eyes. much less suspicious. way more likely to get a scoop.

   “yeah? you heard anything worthwhile?” after that body showing up on the midas front steps, the whispers have been many. the mancini hardly seem ruffled. jimmy can’t get a handle on it. 

[phated-blog1]

gabriellaxking‌:

Gabriella’s dozing eyes snap open at the sound of lazy knocks on her door. Instinctively she reached for her pistol under the coffee table; who could want her at this hour? It’s the pleading that tugs her heart. She pads to the door way and opens the mahogany wood. The smell of alcohol hits her like a wall. It’s familiar. The whole situation was cyclical. But sh’e dod it again and again if it meant he came home to her.

 Without hesitation, the brunette tucks herself under his arm for support and leads him into her abode. She leads him into her bedroom and turns on the lamp, yellow hues warm every corner of her space. She sets him onto the plush comforter, “You know last time we shared a bed, I had to buy new lamps and curtains from the mess we made.” Gabriella chuckles. Delicate hand upon palm as she lifts his gaze to meet hers. 

“Why do you do this to yourself, mon ami?”

   he expects to have to explain himself, to at least exchange pleasantries. for them, it’s hardly necessary. she’s wordless, distinctly soft against his side. the light which soaks up the shadows of her bedroom burn at angel’s eyes, he casts them downward with a barely audible chuckle. “yeah-- sorry about that.” something in his tone says that’s a lie. “they’re safe tonight.”

gabriella implores his gaze and he obliges. how couldn’t he? the smile he shows her is minute, as placid as ever. “you know why.” because he’s tired. because life is getting harder, his relationship with the mancinis - and his newfound one with the sullivans - growing more and more tumultuous. because he has to be drunk to find the confidence to come knocking on her door.

“i’m all right,” he assures her, pulling at her wrist. encapsulates her hand in both of his. “just want to make sure you are, too.” there’s a pause, he’s thoughtful. eyes train to her fingers, he tries to find the words. “feel like maybe it’s time i get out of here, you know?”

[tinseltowns]

prcmiisc :

ANONYMOUS PLAY TIME! (or not, up to you)

Send me one of these and I’ll answer.

HYE have you ever?

FMK fuck marry kill (with three names)

KHC kiss hug cuddle (with three names)

AMA ask me anything

HON hot or not?

WWY well would you?

WYR would you rather?

TOD truth or dare?

SMW ship me with? (send me ships)

TOT this or that?

WIS who I ship? (with myself, or with others — specify)

[devotedecay]

❥      NON - SEXUAL   ACTS   OF   DOMINANCE . 

feel free to edit or elaborate as you please .   ( add  ‘ reverse ‘  to your message if you’d like to see how my muse would perform the action ) . otherwise , send in one of these for my muse’s reaction to   …

[ lit ]  your muse lighting a cigarette , spliff , etc. for mine . 

[ order ]  your muse ordering for mine at a restaurant or bar .

[ guide ]  your muse putting a hand on mine’s back to lead them .

[ pay ]  your muse paying for mine at a store , bar , restaurant , etc . ( you can specify where or for what . )

[ open ]  your muse opening a door for mine .

[ dry ]  your muse drying mine off with a towel after a shower , bath , swimming , etc . 

[ instruct ]  your muse giving mine instructions / telling them what to do . 

[ groom ]  your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc . 

[ direct ]  your muse taking mine by the chin and telling them to look yours in the eye .

[ disagree ]  your muse sternly telling mine  ‘ no ‘ .

[ rest ]  your muse resting their arm over mine’s shoulder / s .

[ clean ]  your muse cleaning a smudge of something off mine’s cheek , forehead , etc .   feel free to specify what and how . 

[ answer ]  your muse answering a question meant for mine . 

[ coat ]   your muse holds mine’s coat out for them while they put it on .

[ pilot ]  your muse taking mine by the arm , hand , shoulder , etc . to lead them . 

[ stare ]  your muse staring mine down . 

[ placement ]  your muse telling mine to sit down .

[ teach ]  your muse taking control of mine’s hand , arm , hips , etc . to make sure they do something correctly .  

[ patience ]  your muse telling mine to be patient .

[ tears ]  your muse wiping away mine’s tears .

[ swat ]  your muse swatting mine’s hand away from something they’re not supposed to touch .  

[ jewelry  ]  your muse clasping a piece of jewelry for mine , such as a necklace , or earrings . 

[ enough ]  your muse commanding mine to stop talking . 

[ retrieve ]  your muse requesting or ordering mine to retrieve them something .

[ invite ]  your muse inviting mine to sit on their lap .

[ lean ]  your muse inviting mine to lean into their side while they’re sitting or laying together . 

[ calm ]   your muse telling mine to  ‘ just breathe ‘ .

[ scold ]  your muse scolding mine for something .

[ comfort ]  your muse pulling mine into a reassuring hug .

[ approval ]  your muse complimenting mine on a choice they’ve made .

[ beckon ]  your muse beckoning mine to them without speaking . 

[ laces ]  your muse lacing , tying , or zipping something for mine , such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc .

[ stay ]  your muse telling mine to stay in the car . 

[ defend ]  your muse defending mine’s reputation , dignity , or safety for them . 

[ feed ]  your muse feeding mine something , feel free to specify what .

[ volume ]  your muse demanding mine speak louder .

[ read ]  your muse reading something to mine .

[ refill ]  your muse refilling mine’s glass for them . 

[ possessive ]  your muse resting their hand on mine’s leg or the small of their back while they’re sitting beside each other . 

[phated-blog1]

[ethercals]

there’s a large part of her that wishes she’d just stayed in bed. it’s a tempting thought. drawing the curtains, getting one of the maids to bring her a cup of coffee and some breakfast, and just curling up beneath the sheets. she’s so tired, sleep evading her most nights and leaving her to think about how empty her bed felt, how quiet it was in the mornings, and how cold she felt no matter how many blankets she bundled herself up in. she can count on one hand the amount of nights she and pauly spent apart before his death and she’s now painly aware of how accustomed she’d come to having a body beside her. it’s left her exhausted both physically and mentally, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on that. she has to deal with the mess pauly left in his wake, and the newest threat to her family’s safety.

it was for that reason that she was in the lobby, greeting guests, checking over maintenance and harassing the cleaners to get rid of that damn blood stain on her front steps. she looks immaculate, not a hair out of place nor and imperfection in her make up. it makes it easier to focus on something other than the pain in her chest. glancing at someone passing by, her mouth quirked upward. “you should try today’s cocktail, our bartender is a magic man when it comes to flavour.”

[phated-blog1]

   “oh, i usually try and wait ‘til five o’clock,” angel lies. he was headed toward the bar. she undoubtedly already knows that. next to her, he proves to be the antithesis. while she looks like little birds dressed her this morning, perfectly coiffed and glowing, angel is ragged. eternal bags live under his eyes and curly black hair falls messily over his forehead. he wouldn’t be embarrassed if it were anyone else.

the wistfulness in his smile, though, isn’t for himself. it’s for her. kat’s had a whirlwind of pitying mourners surrounding her since pauly passed, angel’s hardly found a moment to give her proper condolences. “you, ah... you think you can steal yourself away for one drink, kat?” he wonders, thumb jabbing over his shoulder towards the bar. lips purse, a ghost of a smirk. “surely a hotel can run itself for ten minutes.”

[phated-blog1]

gviltys‌:

she somehow manages to convince herself she’s allowed an hour to herself. an hour to relax, find some peace and quiet and try to clear her mind — a feat that seemed impossible these days. yet there she is anyway, bathing suit black given she’s in mourning, designer sunglasses on her face, and lips painted red as she stretches out under the sun. there may be whispers about her and her family surrounding her, and if the hounds were coming for blood, she was at least going to look good for them.

spending her hour by the pool is something she begins to regret the moment james swan steps into her view, and her eye roll is hidden by her sunglasses. “atrocious, isn’t it? i’ll have to speak to the owner about an admittance list.” she turns her head towards him, allowing her mouth to curve upwards into her sweetest smile as her hand moves to cover her heart. “i don’t know what you mean, detective. i have never done anything wrong in my life.”

    “you’re a helluva liar, mrs. mancini,” james’ grin is impenetrable. entirely put on. although, with the notion in mind that she is, in fact, the owner of the midas now and could effortlessly toss him out, he backs off. leans back into his chair, turns his face up to the sun. “congratulations on all the inheritance. you have the midas in your hands.” her hands, luxuriously manicured to an edge. jimmy finds her eye, smiles. “does that make you the boss?” the boss of what exactly, he doesn’t specify.

there’s a pause before he’s backtracking. showing her the palm of his hand, a little white flag. “forgive me, i don’t mean to interrogate you. hazard of the job, and i wonder why i can’t keep a girlfriend.” still, his smile is all teeth. he watches her curiously, head tilting. “you mind if i sit awhile?”

[phated-blog1]

----- @lucianomancini

    “i get it, you wanna protect your family,” jimmy shrugs his hand, more dismissive than anything. he bites into his apple. goes out of his way to show disrespect. as far as self-preservation goes, it probably wasn’t the wisest move in the world to bring the baby boy of the mancini family into the interrogation room. jimmy doesn’t care. in light of recent events he just wants to shake something loose, ruffle some feathers. get to the bottom of this mess before it all blows up in his face.

he talks with his mouth full, leaned back in his chair. “i’d do the same thing if it were me in your shoes which-- gee sharp, aren’t they? cost more than my salary, i bet. parting gift from dear ol’ dad?” hamming up the bad cop. he can feel prying eyes on him coming from the one way mirror. it’s bad form to bring in a mancini, especially a young, grieving one. jimmy’s lost the inclination to mind. “then again, if it were me... i probably wouldn’t align myself with people who are respected out of fear. who smack down anyone in their way. you align yourself with those kind of people, mr. mancini?”