just one mistake

[reveriixs]

―   ◜   . ―  𝖮𝖥 𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖢𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖤𝖲 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖡𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖬𝖮𝖵𝖤 𝖴𝖯𝖮𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖳𝖧, 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖨𝖲 𝖡𝖱𝖤𝖣 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖨𝖲 𝖶𝖤𝖠𝖪𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖭 𝖬𝖠𝖭 .

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𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗑𝗂𝖾𝗯𝗵𝗼𝗱       ›   38     nocturne second in command ╱ pinterest ╱ connections ╱ threads.    MICHAEL B JORDAN

𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿       ›  31      ghost riders road captain ╱ pinterest ╱ connections ╱ threads.    AUSTIN BUTLER

 𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾ronan       ›  26      dirty civilian ╱ pinterest ╱ connections ╱ threads.    MAIA REFICCO

𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖺campbell       ›  47      clean civ, deputy commissioner ╱ pinterest ╱ connections ╱ threads.    GABRIELLE UNION

[burningxheaven]

Location: Their Apartment Status: Closed @reveriixs

"Its all just... so much," Kinny said with a sharp exhale as she sat down on the couch next to her roommate. "Like, I don't even want to go outside anymore Ames." She expressed her feelings. "Here," She said before passing over a glass of wine. Effie was playing on the floor with her dolls. "Hero's gonna come over tomorrow and put on better locks and stuff on the place, good security and all that shit. Says he can't have his girls unsafe."

[reveriixs]

Amelie let out a low hum, sinking back into the couch beside Kinny, the stem of her glass balanced between her fingers. “Yeah, no shit—it feels like the city’s closing in lately,” she murmured, swirling the wine before taking a sip. “You so much as breathe wrong out there, and it’s like the city's ready to eat you alive.” Her tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of unease that didn’t quite fade behind her usual bravado.

Her gaze flicked down to Effie, softening as she watched the little girl humming to herself on the floor. “At least she doesn’t feel it yet,” Amelie said quietly. “That kind of innocence—God, I’d bottle it if I could.”

The comment about Hero earned a faint grin, the first real one of the evening. “Of course he is. Can’t have his girls unsafe,” she echoed, teasing just enough to lighten the air. “You tell him if he needs a hand, I know how to use a wrench. Or a baseball bat, whichever gets the message across faster.” Then, softer, her voice lost its edge. “And for what it’s worth, I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re stuck with me, babe—wine, chaos, and all.”

[burningxheaven]

McKinley let out a soft laugh, "Your full attention, huh?" She let her fingers curl in the ends of his hair as she settled fully into his lap. The feel of his closeness was something she would never get use to, not after missing it for so long.

Truth was, she wasn't sure what she was wanting, she didn't know what to want. Sure she fooled around here and there in the twelve years they had been apart, but she had never been with another man. There were a few ladies that caught her attention and shared some nights, but it was always just... normal.

She listened to his question, and she found her shoulders rising in a shrug. She didn't know. "Maybe" Was as she offered him. And as he pulled her in to steal a kiss she felt herself melting into him further. He may not have been shy, but she tended to be, especially in matters like this.. when she felt inexperienced.

"I... I'm not sure what to try." She spoke honestly, but the thought of experimenting on him, the feel of his hands on her body. She found herself rolling her hips on his lap, just the idea of the next words to fall out of her mouth had her turned on. "Do you wanna watch some stuff... for ideas?" She whispered in his ear as she bit down on her lip. "Unless you have things you want to do?"

[reveriixs]

Hero’s grin spread slow, lazy, the kind that carried heat behind it. His thumb brushed her jaw as his other hand traced the curve of her hip, grounding her there against him. “Darlin’, you’ve already got all my attention. .” His voice dropped lower, that smooth drawl wrapping around each word like smoke.

He felt her shift, the soft roll of her hips stealing the air from his lungs. A quiet chuckle rumbled out of him, rough and wanting. “Ain’t a test. We just… figure it out as we go. That’s half the fun.”

When she whispered in his ear, Hero’s hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. “Watch somethin’?” he repeated, tone teasing, dangerous. “Could. Or…” his fingers tilted her chin up till her eyes met his, the candlelight catching in that stormy blue gaze, “…we could just keep doin’ what we’re doin’ and let it tell us where to go.”

He kissed her again then—slow, deep, deliberate. Fingers slowly slipping between her thighs teasingly working their way up wards cupping her center gentle but firm adding just a little pressure to that sweet spot. “I'm pretty sure I've got enough imagination for the both of us." a beat " trust me, any ideas you want to test best not to measure against someone else lewd fantasy."

[reveriixs]

Location: phantom wrench, bronx Status: Open @rotsstarters

The low hum of engines and the sharp hiss of an air compressor filled the air, a rough kind of music Hero had long since learned to move in rhythm with. Grease-streaked hands, sweat at his temple, cigarette balanced on his lip—it was just another late night at Phantom Wrench. He’d been at it since dawn, patching up a busted clutch, tuning a couple bikes for the boys upstairs, and trying real damn hard not to think too much. The car meet had gone sideways—figures. Every time things looked calm, the Veil had a way of slithering in and proving him wrong. The shop lights flickered once, the sound of a bike revving outside cutting through the Bronx night. “Shop’s open,” he called, voice carrying that easy drawl. “You here for a fix… or just to make trouble?”

[reveriixs]

Location: the penthaus, upper manhattan Status: open @rotsstarters

If there was one thing Alexie Bhod knew how to do, it was command a room—and The Penthaus was built for exactly that kind of man. The city outside might’ve been crawling with fear and whispers of the Veil, but inside these walls, decadence was still a religion. Golden light poured over marble and glass, the bass thrumming deep enough to feel in your chest, and the scent of expensive perfume clung to the air like sin. He leaned against the bar, a picture of unbothered luxury—black slacks, open collar, no tie, wristwatch worth more than most rent checks. A half-smirk played at his lips as he stirred the amber in his glass. Top shelf, naturally. Anything less was an insult.

“Keep it open,” he told the bartender, voice low and smooth, laced with that unhurried charm that made everything sound like a promise.

For once, he wasn’t here to negotiate, manipulate, or clean up someone else’s mess. Just a night to breathe, to watch the city’s sinners pretend the world wasn’t burning outside. His gaze swept the club lazily—the DJ, the crowd, the sharp glint of strangers’ eyes. There was always something—or someone—worth his attention.

“Hell of a night to be alive,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. But the look in his eyes said it plain: if trouble walked through that door, he’d welcome it with a drink and a smile.

[drmothra]

@rotsstarters

location: city hall mayor's office

Jessie was reading the paper, his eyebrows furrowed. He did have another committment that day, but to read about the car crash was heart breaking. His lips was in a fine line. "Can recon confirm this information." He wrote to his security team. There was a small hope that maybe this was exaggerated.

"Mayor Kye, someone wants to see you." He heard. "Jessie remarked. "Let them in." He did have open hours for this very reason. He adjusted his glasses as he continued typing his memos for the day.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be with you shortly." He remarked.

[reveriixs]

Hera slipped past the front desk with the same quiet confidence that once got her through stakeouts and interrogation rooms. Ball cap pulled low, leather jacket zipped halfway, sunglasses doing the rest of the work — she didn’t exactly scream Deputy Commissioner. But she wasn't at least not for the moment.

“Didn’t expect City Hall to feel more like a morgue,” she murmured, stepping inside when the mayor’s aide waved her through. Her tone was even, but the edge was there — a woman running on too little patience and too much bottled frustration.

She stood in front of his desk, posture straight, jaw tight. “Mayor Kye,” she greeted, voice smooth but clipped. “I’ll keep it short. I’ve been benched long enough. The Veil’s moving faster than your task force, and we both know my team’s got more to show for it than the NYPD and your PR department combined.”

Hera folded her arms, eyes narrowing slightly. “The evidence that put me in the doghouse? It wouldn’t hold in a high school mock trial. So here I am either you clear me to work, or you explain to the press why the only people actually getting results are locked out of the field. Your call, But one of us is wasting time — and it sure as hell isn’t me.”

[reveriixs]

The roar of tuned engines and the bass-heavy thrum of speakers rattled through the closed-off stretch of street, every gleaming hood and tricked-out ride on display like a peacock fanning its feathers. She walked slow, weaving past groups clustered around their cars, the smell of fuel and rubber thick in the late-night air.

Her sunglasses caught the neon glow of undercarriage lights as she tipped her chin at a Mustang revving hard enough to make the asphalt hum beneath her boots. “Can’t believe the city cleared this already,” she muttered under her breath, half amusement, half irritation. There were a hundred ways this whole thing can go sideways—and that’s without the Veil stirrin’ the pot. and she had a feeling there was no chance of that not happening.

She lingered near a line of imports ready to race, hands in her pockets, eyes sharp behind the lenses. To anyone else she looked like she was just killing time, checking out the chrome and paint jobs. But every fiber of her was coiled, alert, waiting. If something went down here tonight—and her gut told her it would—she planned on being in the middle of it.

Location: car show event Status: open @rotsstarters : Hera’s undercover of sorts at the car show. Feel free to approach her , test her disguise, or let the tension spark however your muse sees fit.

[burningxheaven]

Location: The Car Show Status: Closed @reveriixs

Kinny walked hand in hand next to Hero, enjoying every moment of being with him. "Hmmm, none of these cars compares to yours." She said with a bright smile. "I still can't believe I knew the Coles this whole time," She said with a small laugh. Dani and McKinley were close friends as kids who grew apart in high school. "I slept over their house so many damn times, but you know, I never paid attention to her brothers at all. Such a small world."

[reveriixs]

The laugh came easy, rolling low as he gave her hand a little squeeze, eyes glinting with that lazy warmth he carried so well. “ you’re damn right none of these rides compare. Not ‘cause mine’s prettier—though she is—but ‘cause mine’s got stories. Can’t say the same for these showroom peacocks.” He nodded toward a candy-red Camaro revving loud just to show off, smirk tugging at his mouth.

Her mention of the Coles had him chuckling again, a soft shake of his head as he shot her a sidelong glance. “Small world’s puttin’ it lightly. Ian pretty much rasied me for a while there. Even if i was past rasin' age” He lifted their joined hands briefly, brushing his thumb slow over her knuckles. He had spent more time at the garage then at damian's house but when he was there, he always liked it. felt like family or how a family was meant to feel like. Maybe he never stayed at the hosue offten cause it had him missing his sisters a little too much.

The bass from the next car shook through the pavement, neon lights bouncing wild across her face. Hero leaned in just a touch, voice dipping lower, rougher, but still laced with humor. “Its probably a good thing you never noticed her brothers. they're all a little bit of trouble” He let the grin bloom slow, boyish and teasing. “And now you’re stuck with me.”

[darkenmity]

blair’s  laugh  was  more  air  than  sound,  a  quiet  exhale  that  still  managed  to  drip  with  irony.  she  eyed  the  peony  like  it  had  personally  offended  her.

❝  poor  decision-making  with  good  eyeliner  is  definitely  more  your  brand  than  gardening,  ames  ❞

her  gaze  skimmed  the  shop,  landing  on  the  hydrangeas  with  surgical  disinterest. ❝  guess  that  makes  me  eighty  percent  immune  to  whatever  spell  these  things  are  supposed  to  cast.  dirt  under  the  nails  builds  character—same  as  bourbon,  apparently.  but  me?  i  like  being  awake  for  my  suffering.  makes  it  efficient.  ❞  the  nudge  earned  amelie  a  sideways  glance,  equal  parts  flat  and  fond.

❝  fine—get  the  hydrangeas.  but  when  they  die,  their  funeral’s  on  you  ‘cause  if  i’m  going  down  as  a  basic  flower  bitch,  you’re  getting  the  blame.  ❞

a  pause,  her  lips  tugging  just  enough  to  betray  the  smile  she  tried  not  to  wear.  ❝  coffee  after  this.  i’ll  even  let  you  order  your  tragic  bourbon  just  to  keep  the  brand  alive.  ❞

[reveriixs]

“Please, Blair—if I was gonna get dirt under my nails, it sure as hell wouldn’t be for some half-dead hydrangeas. More likely bailing one of us out of a bad decision at two in the morning. Tragic eyeliner intact, obviously.”

Her fingers ghosted over the petals again, a smirk tugging wider as she leaned just close enough to nudge her shoulder against Blair’s. “And efficient suffering? that’s your brand. I like mine a little messy. Call it charm.”

She plucked one of the hydrangeas free, spinning it lazily between her fingers like a cigarette she didn’t intend to light. Her gaze flicked back, warm despite the sarcasm, a grin catching at the corner of her mouth. “Coffee after sounds like survival. But don’t think I won’t order bourbon in the morning just to scandalize you. Somebody’s gotta keep your image sharp—and who better than me?” she teased. " You planning on going to the car meet? Part of me wants to race but who really needs a car in this city when you have public transportation or uber.

[greatresilience-deactivated2025]

tentativeness had lightly woven within the atmosphere surrounding them. adrian couldn't blame amelie, however, not by a long shot. for all of their previous encounters, aura adopted far different elements than what was currently entailed. somberness, despair, compassion. a light year's contrast compared to their conventially haughty, poking nature.

initially shooting out a quiet nod, he occasionally allows a momentary chuckle to sliver out regarding the brunette's witty retorts, adrian crooning instead, "secret's safe with me, sweets." despite the wolfish grin fleetingly overtaking his attributes, sincerity drips from enunciated syllables like rich molasses.

fingers absentmindedly traveling to the silk of chestnut tresses, a few strands find themselves being tucked behind her ear, calloused digits skimming over the sun kissed skin of amelie's cheekbones. "that's a normal response," the assassin lowly hummed, the pad of a fingertip brushing away a dried streak of a now long gone teardrop.

"anxiety running wild, brain working on over drive. bona fide human nature, if anything." trepidation fraught him much similarly to how she'd described, and while it never truly dissipated, its lingering loomed into paranoid territory more than ever lately. mistaking an unfamiliar woman bearing a striking resemblance to his sister occurred more frequently than he cared to admit.

"let's try taking our minds off of everything," adrian encouraged, mossy greens scanning over amelie's doe-like features as he proceeded to supplement contending ideas. "we could find something to watch, order out. i'll even step back out and grab some beers if you want to catch a buzz while she sleeps."

[reveriixs]

Her head stayed tucked to his shoulder like she’d found a place the world couldn’t reach not surrender, just a desperate need for quiet. The apartment hummed around them: Effie asleep down the hall, the kitchen light a dull halo, and for once Amelie let someone else steer the conversation away from the spiral. He had no idea how sharp he’d hit the mark—Effie wasn’t just a kid to her, she was the single steady lighthouse in a life of wreckage. The thought of losing that light was the thing that could split her clean in two, and somehow this guy; hard edges, green eyes, and all—saw that without her having to show him the scar.

She lingered in the silence, tracing the seam of his shirt like it was a map she could read. “Guess we both got brains wired for chaos,” she murmured, lashes lowering. “Makes us great at parties, terrible at sleeping.” Humor tucked the edges of the sentence, but it trembled; even she didn’t know how long the joke would hold.

When his thumb brushed away the last salt track on her cheek she didn’t flinch. She tipped her chin up to meet him, let that relentless stare pin her. A crooked, small smile found her—nothing full, but a piece of the old Amelie peeking through. “You’re dangerous, you know that? Turning up with comforts when I only expect knives. Don’t expect me to forget you used that against me later.”

She pressed a breath to his shoulder and finally let the tease slide out, softer now. “Roommates are a blessing—there’s always a stash of alcohol somewhere.” Her fingers drifted up to his collar, then lingered. “I can scrounge a bottle from the kitchen, or if you’re being honest you could admit you’re bored of your little harem and came for better company. I wouldn’t judge you too harshly.” Her smirk widened by the time she finished, but her eyes stayed locked on his, daring him to call her bluff—or to stay.

[burningxheaven]

A smirk curved up Damian's face as he listened to Hero talk about McKinley, "She's a cutie thats for sure." He said with a smile. It was nice to see this side of hero, him being soft. He knew Hero had been through his shit, but he never met anyone more brave and loyal. He deserved someone good like her. "I do know this life... it can be hard sometimes but that's when you just got to hold on and not let go, you know?"

He had all the same fears when it came to Oxana. It was daunting, letting yourself feel so striongly for someone, knowing that in a second your heart could shatter. He had been though it before and never wanted that pain again.

Damian started to sort the tools he was using and put them away, "sounds like you've got the one man." He said with a soft smile. "Are ya gonna bring her to the barbeque? I'd love to meet her more deeply." He knew some about the girl, about that information she gave them when asked. But he didn't pay to much attention to her. "And yes, I promise to behave. I just want to get to know the future mrs walker."

[reveriixs]

He let out a low laugh, shoulders loosening as he leaned back against the workbench, that easy grin creeping wider. “Future Mrs. Walker, huh? Lord, you’re gonna get me in trouble sayin’ it like that. Girl’s already got me wrapped around her finger—don’t need you feedin’ her ideas ‘fore I even get the ring sorted.”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, eyes glintin’ with a mix of humor and the kind of quiet warmth he didn’t let most folks see. “But yeah, I’ll bring her ‘round. Barbecue, car meet, hell—next thing you know you’ll have us signed up for potlucks and Sunday socials. Didn’t realize you had a hidden talent for event plannin’, Damian. Should I be worried you’re gonna start usin’ the garage as a banquet hall?”

There was a playful edge in his voice, but underneath it, sincerity held firm. He tipped his chin toward his brother-in-arms, smirk easy but eyes steady. “You’ll like her. She’s got grit, a good heart. And she can put up with my sorry ass.”

His laugh softened, more genuine now, a rare moment where the weight in his chest eased. “One event at a time, brother. Then maybe—maybe—we’ll let you plan the weddin’.”

[midncghtxrain]

"well i don't mind it. i usually have breakfast by myself. so when i say feel free to stop by, i mean it." she would say the same to her siblingd as well. if they had wanted to come over in the morning for some breakfast, she wouldn't mind it at all.

"don't be surprised if she wants to come home with me." she said in a joking manner. though she knew rye wouldn't want to do that. dogs were loyal to their owners most of the time. the better one treated a dog, the more loyal they were.

"hopefully in a month it'll be cooler." she didn't know how much longer she could stand the heat. day after day, it was a never ending game of how many layers of clothes can you keep on before you over heart. that was part of the reason why she hated the summer. fall and winter were better to her. it was easier to keep warm, plus the dew point and humidity didn't make things insufferable.

reaching into the basket again, she grabbed the other sandwich that was there. "you keeping up with me? good luck with that." she said with a grin.

[reveriixs]

“Careful now. You invite me for breakfast too often, you’ll find me on your porch every mornin’ raisin’ hell ‘til you feed me. Ain’t exactly the kind of habit you can break easy once it sticks.”

Rye nosed around Juliet’s side of the basket, tail thumpin’ traitorous against the ground, and Hero shook his head with a crooked grin. “Wouldn’t shock me none if she did follow you home. Girl’s got good taste, what can I say? But don’t let her fool you—soon as she smells bacon fryin’ in my kitchen, she’ll be back on my heels like she never left.”

He tipped his chin toward the hazy sky, a sigh drawlin’ out. “Amen on that cooler weather. Summer’s like a bad ex—sticks around longer than it’s wanted, makes everything damn near unbearable. Give me crisp mornings, jackets, and breath foggin’ in the air any day. That’s a season worth wakin’ up to.”

His gaze cut back to her with a grin, catching the way she tore into the sandwich. “ Hell, I’m just tryin’ to keep my pride intact. Don’t go tellin’ folks you can out-eat me or I’ll never hear the end of it back at the clubhouse.” He reached into the basket, snagging his own half with a lazy wink. “But between you and me, I reckon this is the first race I don’t mind losin’.”

[burningxheaven]

"I mean, I wouldn't say no to having a broken motorcycle in our living room." She said with a small smile, "We'd have to get an 'our' living room first, but then you can bring one in." She teased him lightly. "Maybe I was just hoping to say yes to something else; either way, it's good knowing my answer." She said as she tossed him a wink.

The food tasted better than it smelled; it was amazing. "Damn baby, you may have just earned yourself the cook of the house." She said with a bright smile, "Not sure how I can ever top this."

"You nan has nothing to worry about, you were husband material before dinner, hints my yes." She teased him lightly. Nothing about Hero would ever make him not worthy of love or her love. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Seeing what Irina was going through only furthered those thoughts in her head.

"Hm, maybe. I might upstage you." She said as she pushed up from her seat and trailed over to his. Kinny dropped into his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I was thinking about our nighttime activities." She said sheepishly as a light pink hue dusted her cheeks. "I was thinking we may turn it up a notch, try something... more?"

[reveriixs]

Hero’s grin crooked wide at her words, that low chuckle of his rumblin’ up from somewhere deep in his chest. Hands slid firmer along her waist, thumbs pressing slow, lazy circles into her skin like he had all the time in the world to savor her blush. “Darlin’, you drop down in my lap talkin’ ‘bout turnin’ it up a notch, you best believe you’ve got my full attention.”

He tilted his head, brushing his nose against her cheek before murmurin’ low, drawl thick as honey. “Now, you know I ain’t shy. Question is—what kinda notch we talkin’? You mean louder, faster… or sweeter, slower?” His lips ghosted near her ear, that lazy smile carryin’ both mischief and promise.

One hand rose to tangle at the back of her neck, tugging her in just enough to steal a kiss, slow but edged with heat. When he pulled back, blue eyes caught hers in the flicker of candlelight, steady and sure. “You got me wonderin’ now, Mick. What exactly you plannin’ to try with me? ” He chuckled again, the sound warm, teasing, but dipped with sincerity as his thumb traced over her jaw. “Either way… darlin’, I’m all yours to experiment on.”

[greatresilience-deactivated2025]

makings of a beneficent smile splay over destinee's lips, a happy sigh slowly exhaled. never mind the overhead quandaries yet to be resolved, still demanding fractions of new york's overall attention attention, but it felt effortless being within hero's vicinity. despite starkly contrasting walks of lives driving a formidable wedge between them, their dynamic managed to weather storms regardless.

"as long as you let me order a vanilla shake with 'em," countered destinee humorously, a corner of her mouth ticking upwards into a lighthearted, amused smirk. talk about a blast from the past, suddenly nostalgia rocked the brunette to not so distant recollections of their younger selves meeting up in booths just like this.

dainty hands shuffled their provided menu around to place off to the side, settling her back flush against the booth's foundation before quipping, "i don't mind trauma dumping for a bit." a short, yet nonetheless soft chuckle punctuates mid sentence, "but only if you're truly not still bothered from that day." mocha orbs glowed an underline of conviviality, tone entwined with notes of affability.

out of everything which had transpired during that particular event, des hadn't anticipated for their bond to border on awkward. at least in her perspective, circumstances remained as lax as ever, though sitting across from hero now as big chocolate pools scanned angular features, the woman felt the incessant need to confirm reassurance.

"i know a lot of things between us went left unsaid, but none of what happened on that day could hold a candle to what we share," stated des, voice as leveled and confident as ever. "you know, i am surprised though," she continued, "i was half expecting you to order a burger."

[reveriixs]

Hero leaned back in the booth, one arm draped across the top like he owned the damn thing, grin pulling easy across his mouth. That tension he’d been carrying around all week—the what-ifs, the ghosts of everything left unsaid—finally felt like it’d eased off his shoulders.

“Vanilla shake, huh? Thought you’d moved on to classier things by now. But hell, I’ll let you steal my fries with it too if you ask nice,” he teased, that lazy southern lilt curling warm between them.

He tapped the menu she’d set aside, eyes flicking up to hers. “Burger’s comin’, don’t you worry. Some habits don’t die, no matter how many years pass. Just figured I’d throw you off, keep you on your toes.” His smirk curved, playful but soft at the edges, like it was meant just for her.

Her words landed heavier though, and for a second he let the grin fade, jaw tightening before he nodded. “Des… that day? I ain’t carryin’ it like a stone in my pocket, not when I still got this—us. Don’t get me wrong, I replay it sometimes, wonder if I could’ve handled things different. But sittin’ here now? Feels like proof enough we’re stronger than the mess. That’s worth more than all the unsaid shit in the world.”

He leaned forward then, elbows on the table, blue eyes catching hers steady. “So yeah, order your shake. I’ll grab my burger. And let’s make it what it always was—just you and me raisin’ a little hell over lunch.”

[whimsyhcrts]

jolene nodded her head, appreciating the honest advice that was coming from the older woman. her grandmother was a complicated woman to say the least, someone that she loathed for the majority of her life until her adulthood it seemed. biting on her bottom lip for a moment, she tries her best to pick the best choice words to describe her. "well, i would say almost like a mix of the two? she's this tiny italian lady. devot catholic but has a lot of spirt and also spite in her. she can be very opinionated and stubborn but she's also very loving," she explained.

"so, the gladiolus might be a good choice after all," she spoke. "i was also looking for some possible flowers for our restaurant. shit around there is a little...dated to say the least. if i can find a cheap way to brighten it up in there, i'll take it."

[reveriixs]

“Sounds like gladiolus fits her better than lilies ever would. Pretty, sure, but tougher than they look. Flowers that don’t wilt easy, no matter the weather—that’s the kind that’ll earn her respect.”

She shifted, leaning an elbow against the counter, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, casual but never losing that edge of authority that clung to her no matter the setting. “For the restaurant, you don’t want anything fussy. Orchids’ll drain your wallet, hydrangeas’ll look like funeral arrangements by the end of the week. Go bold, but practical—snapdragons, maybe. A few pots of gladiolus near the windows. They’ll hold their own, make the place look alive without screamin’ you’re tryin’ too hard.”

Her gaze flicked back to Jolene, sharp and amused. “Cheap can still mean clever. And clever? That’ll keep folks comin’ back as much as the food does. Brighten the place up, give it a little bite. Just like your grandmother.”

A pause, then her smirk deepened, voice dipping lighter, teasing. “Course, if you’re really mixin’ business and sentiment, plant a few roses too. Nothing says family like a flower that’s beautiful and still manages to draw blood if you’re not careful.”

[gildedash]

“who knows, maybe with my crip legs finally healing and my smoking habit’s i’ll be the one in a retirement home quicker than you and anyone else from high school.” and there were the self-deprecating thoughts that atlas was nothing but a deadbeat now, working one job that he likes and another one that he doesn’t like. it seems like he could have gone elsewhere with his life, but here he was talking to hero/hank from high school. were they two dead beats trying to cheer each other up right now? atlas wasn’t going to make this a habit. “seems like everything i had going from high school did vanish though, because i decided to stay in harlem. the place ain’t that bad, but like— it is, yknow? i shoulda been out in the world experiencing more things, but my focus was on my family– still is.” he shrugs. was it his family that was holding him back in this world? he couldn’t tell. all he wanted was for each of them to be happy. but it seems like his parents were in a needle in a haystack to the rest of them. his gaze stares mindlessly in front of him as he can’t help but give a soft smile, despite his brain being elsewhere. “do you think my family is fucked? i've gotta be fucked for staying here, right?" he asks, out loud. not really thinking hero would respond. “i stayed here for them… i should at least start focusin’ on myself instead of them if they keep secrets from me, right?” he asks taking a long drag from his blunt. “but yeah, thanks for the fact you actually got me to smile. Life has been like……. fucking weird since that beach bash. like, what if i just got up and moved. to like fucking…….. i don’t know, sedona? i’ve always wanted to go there.”

[reveriixs]

“Atlas, if stayin’ for your family makes you fucked, then hell—guess I’m fucked six ways from Sunday, too. Nothin’ wrong with givin’ a damn about your people. Problem comes when you forget you’re one of ‘em. You count in that equation, whether you like it or not.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice steady but carrying that grit of lived truth. “Secrets? They’ll rot you if you let ‘em. You ain’t wrong to wanna put yourself first now and then. Don’t mean you’re leavin’ anyone behind—it just means you’re finally rememberin’ you’ve got a life of your own. Ain’t selfish, it’s survival.”

A crooked grin tugged back at his mouth, blue eyes glintin’ with that mix of tease and steel only Hero seemed able to balance. “Sedona, huh? You’d last two weeks out there before you got bored as hell. Too quiet. Too clean. You’d miss Harlem’s mess soon as the first cactus gave you side-eye.” He chuckled low, shaking his head. “But if you went? You’d figure it out. Nothin’ says you gotta be chained here forever.”

He clapped a hand against Atlas’s shoulder, rough but solid, the kind of touch meant to anchor. “So don’t sell yourself short, brother. Deadbeat ain’t the word I’d use for someone who’s still standin’, still smilin’, even after the shit you’ve seen. Call it stubborn. Call it loyal. Hell, call it human. Whatever it is, it ain’t worthless.”

Hero leaned back, finally letting himself grin full again. “Now finish that blunt before I decide you’re too sentimental to smoke proper. You ever do make it to Sedona, send me a damn postcard. I’ll hang it up just to prove you ain’t all talk.”

[bonesplints]

Corrine traced through her husband's socials throughout the day, the gall of him to be messaging that girl's family after she was found dead. That was his most prominent quality though, wasn't it? His audacity stopped phasing her years ago and now she was left with a bitter taste instead of shock. Was it cruel to be anonymously donating flowers to her family? Maybe. Maybe it was an even crueler act than simply having her life ended but her connection to her husband, read as deeper than physical could not be allowed to go on. Perhaps somewhere deep inside she regretted it came to what it did. Though she doesn't regret the murder itself.

"Depends on what your plans for the day are. Each has a different occasion." She offers to Amelie, hoping if she chose to go drinking it wouldn't be alone. Call it her motherly instinct, but she just wanted to see Amelie and any other young woman safe. "I prefer wine but that's a matter of preference of course."

[reveriixs]

“Wine, huh? Very respectable. But let’s be real—wine’s just bourbon that dressed up for Sunday mass.” Her tone was teasing, light but sharp around the edges, like she couldn’t resist tugging at the string.

She spun the peony once between her fingers before tucking it back into the display, eyes flicking toward Corrine with a glimmer of amusement. “My plans? Well, those depend on whether I’m feeling like a saint or a sinner today. Coffee keeps me awake enough to behave, bourbon makes sure I don’t.” She shrugged, the kind of careless roll of her shoulders that belied just how often she lived at the mercy of impulse.

“Besides, drinking alone?” A scoff, playful, punctuated by the dramatic arch of her brow. “I don’t do tragic main character energy, had enough of that after the beach blowup. If I’m gonna sip bourbon, it’s gonna be with someone who’ll at least keep up with my mouth.”