ofriparian

[ofriparian]

↳ “I love you, man.” — Billy Russo/Frank Castle

Casso 💀❤️

Please do not repost/reupload my gifs!

[ofriparian]

👀 by Frank Castle and Billy Russo

[ofriparian]

all of the words that her brother spun right back into her face, spit back and made her look at - it made her fingers tremble and her stomach drop with disgust. disgust for herself - and then disgust for him too. how could he do this to her, make her feel like the fool that she was? the disgusting, thieving, little trash stained junkie that she was? it was all true, every syllable that left his mouth and he was always right. that was the thing about having a big brother like cyrus - he knew her before she had even known herself. he had looked down at her as a little pink fluff ball of love and knew her eyes, knew her lies, knew everything and she didn't stand a chance. perhaps that was what made her so mad - made her tremble with rage at the fact that he won right now and at all times when it came to knowing her.

"we both know daddy doesn't care. he will give me money when i need it and never even ask for it. it's not like i abandoned the whole family to go off and be a hero, huh? it's not like i did that to him, breaking his goddamn heart. what kind of son would do that?" it was all lies on her tongues, lies of an addict that was high out of her mind. this wasn't rory - the sweet, fun-loving, soft little girl that would come in and see her big brother on sundays and would give her first hug to. this wasn't rory - the same little girl that first said cyrus's name when she was barely a year old with curly little ringlets in her hair - the rory that clung to his hand everyday while walking to school, that hid behind him trick or treating.

her honey eyes looked into his dark eyes, the ones that she had never seen for herself be so ferocious, so biting. her boots clattered on the hardwood floor and she caught herself, but not before falling into the coffee table for a moment. she caught herself, barely, the high little thing that she was at the moment and giggled, shaking her head. "you love that i'm like this, don't you? i'm the bad one? you love it, because chris is the underperforming, little mechanic with a wife and a kid - he won't ever make as much as you, won't have glory like you do and me? i'm the drug addicted fuck up that still has mommy and daddy in the palm of her hand. don't i? i mean, one tear from me, and daddy gets so upset. but you - you're the star. the good boy, their favorite, the hero. you like this so much right now, don't you?" she giggled, not even sure what the words were that tumbled out of her mouth.

she took out the grayish powder and giggled, stumbling once again as she looked at her older brother. "an asshole? a little goddamn bitch? i'm gonna go wake up daddy and he can hear you call me that, huh? he'll never forgive you." she sighed, shaking her head. when he snatched it, she let out a gasp, and shook her head, eyes looking into his. "you won't stop me. i'll just go upstairs and take another stash of daddy's money. maybe i'll say you took it. daddy won't be mad at me, that's for sure. what are you going to do now? tell me how disappointed you are? you can't stop me from doing what i want. now, get out of my fucking way, cyrus, because i'll just get more." her voice broke as she went to move him out of the way. "move."

inside, there was rory, but on the outside, it was aurora who had no respect, and aurora was winning. rory was screaming, crying, for her to go away - to leave her beautiful, amazing older brother who she loved more than anything alone. he was helping her, doing this for her - and she was a goddamn little bitch, a rat right now - rocko even.

"get out of my way."

ofriparian​:

disgust. that was the only thing that rory could even sense and feel that was writhing in cyrus’s veins right now. she had seen it before, when he had looked at rocko, when he had looked at those who did her harm, did his family harm - but he hadn’t ever looked at her like that. it broke her heart, left a breath out of her, that was how powerful his looks could be. she knew that he knew, and god, who the fuck was she kidding? cyrus knew every nook and cranny of her personality, and there was no hiding something like this from him. why had she done it? why had she had to do this? was it a last hurrah? rory felt her nimble fingers grip onto the side of the couch, her eyes closed for a split second as every color washed through her vision and made her dizzy. she hadn’t done heroine in so long, she had forgotten the way it made her feel - ethereal, but she didn’t want that now. she wanted the life she had slowly but surely built back, from the ruins of rocko’s death and more. she had gotten a job, moved out of the trailer that haunted her, gotten her own apartment now and now a new chance at the music program she had just gotten into. why had she done this? she knew why - she knew it was the voice of rocko martinelli from the grave, taunting and whispering sweet nothings of awful abuse into her ear, the way he used to before. take it, ror. take the fucking thing right now. i don’t want to be alone doing this - you’ll do it with me, right? rory felt like she couldn’t possibly leave the boy she loved behind and so she did the same thing he did, the same poison and look what it had cost her.

“n-no, don’t … don’t look at me like that. don’t - don’t look at me like that!” rory exclaimed, tears already streaming down her face, but she reached up and wiped them away quickly. “and don’t - don’t talk like that to me. don’t - come on. please. please. don’t ask me that, don’t … “ she trailed off, moving into the kitchen, seeing the man in front of that knew her inside and out.

she had no strength, no courage to fight him back, and she didn’t want to. she loved him so much, the person in this world that had never, never once, failed her in her own eyes. a hero amongst men, a pillar of strength she and her parents had always relied on. there was no hiding from him, no cloak she could hide behind that would remove the guilt, the horror in her chocolate eyes, a shade lighter than his. she couldn’t hide from the darkness that was his, the cloak of protection she always found in his eyes that she could only see now was rage.

“please, please, cyrus, don’t .. don’t make me show you. i’ll get rid of it, i’ll … “ her small hand went to her jacket, the pocket where the little extra packet of the shit that had ruined her entire life was in. her eyes were pleading, looking up into his eyes, pleading for him not to make her show him how much of a failure she was. her hand was inside the pocket as she kept her eyes on him, shaking her head. “please. cycy, don’t … don’t make me show you.“ she was suddenly angry. angry at the fact that he had caught her, angry at the fact that she was doing this to herself and he had seen her hit the rock bottom and built herself back up.

"why do you have to know this shit, huh? why do you want to see it? to prove that you’re the better sibling? to prove you’re fucking better than me? we know you’re better than me, than chris, than everyone! you’re a war hero, cyrus - and i barely graduated high school. do you really want to see it? well, fuck you - here it is!” her shaking fingers dug it out of her jacket as she shoved it in his face, eyes black with someone else because this wasn’t rory.

“make you feel better now, cyrus niccolo? you feel better about yourself?”

it was perplexing and vexing all at once; adoration and loathing curled around each other like coils of smoke in the empty space between them, colliding in a clap of silent thunder that shook him down to the soles of his boots. often times, it was easy for cyrus to quell his anger, but the moment he caught sight of aurora the measured man behind the guise of a soldier began to hemorrhage.

he knew she understood the toll her indulgences took on everyone; every addict did. their father, who worked himself to the bone to create a life he believed his children deserved had begged her to remain his little girl. their mother, who had seen and knew too much about the web she’d found herself tangled in cried and praised her for her sobriety. their brother, who was one to love hard and brutally kept his distance now his trust in her had shattered. then, there was cyrus: the brother who loved her without question had the patience to understand the circumstances she had to rise against. and for fucking what? they were all aurora had left after she crawled out of the hole that had been dug beneath her feet. even then, all of their love and attention had not been enough. not for the greedy girl who couldn’t see herself as a victim but a glutton. 

cyrus stared into those same honeyed eyes that peeked up at him from inside a little pink blanket the morning she was born and all he saw was a stranger. an intruder with pupils the size of pins who shook where she stood. gritting his teeth, he crossed his arms beneath the expanse of his diaphragm, eyes narrowing in harsh scrutiny.  

“don’t look at you like what, huh? like you didn’t raid dad’s goddamn sock drawer for enough cash to score a dogshit fix? like you didn’t just fucking double cross the only family you got left? like you’re a goddamn stranger who just broke into my parent’s fuckin’ home? tell me, aurora, how the fuck shouldn’t i fucking look at you?”

her tears did little to sway him. her words, even less. his anger was the fluid that his love bled the moment she cut it with the tip of her needle. 

eyes like pools of ink watched her hand rise to the pocket of her jacket, protecting her score. nose twitching in disgust, cyrus raised a brow, lips pressed into a hard line as he stared across at her. “bull-fuckin’-shit. you’ve never been a good liar, aur- NO. no, you don’t get to fuckin’ ‘cycy’ me like you’re five fuckin’ years old again. you’re grown enough to shove a needle in your arm, you’re grown enough to deal with whatever the fuck i have to fuckin’ say. now, take that shit outta your fuckin’ pocket, aurora.” 

he knew the track marks in her arm sat under the denim of her jacket, wounds who opened their congealed mouths to swallow poison then bleed his sister out. he recognized the unsteadiness in her gait, the way she wobbled in her opiate haze. he saw her jump in emotion, rising on her haunches as if she hadn’t been her own reason for landing on the recieving end of his loathing. still, he kept a measured stare, unmoving as she stormed on unsteady feet to dangle the baggie between his eyes. 

“what the fuck do i have to prove to you, huh? you did a pretty fuckin’ great job provin’ that shit to yourself, didn’t you, you fuckin’ asshole? the minute you walked your grimey little ass into the fuckin’ alley rocko used to drag you to buy your shit in, you proved it. right fuckin’ there, cut and fuckin’ dry, you goddamn little bitch.” 

hand coming up to snatch the baggie from her hand, cyrus gripped it in an iron fist, charcoal eyes sparked red and orange with unbridled rage. "no, i don’t fuckin’ feel better, you fuckin’ rat. but you can fuckin’ bet your ass i will.” 

it was more of a threat than a promise. his mind was made up. he could only hope she would stick around long enough to see why.  

[ofriparian]

disgust. that was the only thing that rory could even sense and feel that was writhing in cyrus’s veins right now. she had seen it before, when he had looked at rocko, when he had looked at those who did her harm, did his family harm - but he hadn’t ever looked at her like that. it broke her heart, left a breath out of her, that was how powerful his looks could be. she knew that he knew, and god, who the fuck was she kidding? cyrus knew every nook and cranny of her personality, and there was no hiding something like this from him. why had she done it? why had she had to do this? was it a last hurrah? rory felt her nimble fingers grip onto the side of the couch, her eyes closed for a split second as every color washed through her vision and made her dizzy. she hadn’t done heroine in so long, she had forgotten the way it made her feel - ethereal, but she didn’t want that now. she wanted the life she had slowly but surely built back, from the ruins of rocko’s death and more. she had gotten a job, moved out of the trailer that haunted her, gotten her own apartment now and now a new chance at the music program she had just gotten into. why had she done this? she knew why - she knew it was the voice of rocko martinelli from the grave, taunting and whispering sweet nothings of awful abuse into her ear, the way he used to before. take it, ror. take the fucking thing right now. i don’t want to be alone doing this - you’ll do it with me, right? rory felt like she couldn’t possibly leave the boy she loved behind and so she did the same thing he did, the same poison and look what it had cost her.

“n-no, don’t … don’t look at me like that. don’t - don’t look at me like that!” rory exclaimed, tears already streaming down her face, but she reached up and wiped them away quickly. “and don’t - don’t talk like that to me. don’t - come on. please. please. don’t ask me that, don’t … “ she trailed off, moving into the kitchen, seeing the man in front of that knew her inside and out.

she had no strength, no courage to fight him back, and she didn’t want to. she loved him so much, the person in this world that had never, never once, failed her in her own eyes. a hero amongst men, a pillar of strength she and her parents had always relied on. there was no hiding from him, no cloak she could hide behind that would remove the guilt, the horror in her chocolate eyes, a shade lighter than his. she couldn’t hide from the darkness that was his, the cloak of protection she always found in his eyes that she could only see now was rage.

“please, please, cyrus, don’t .. don’t make me show you. i’ll get rid of it, i’ll … “ her small hand went to her jacket, the pocket where the little extra packet of the shit that had ruined her entire life was in. her eyes were pleading, looking up into his eyes, pleading for him not to make her show him how much of a failure she was. her hand was inside the pocket as she kept her eyes on him, shaking her head. “please. cycy, don’t … don’t make me show you." she was suddenly angry. angry at the fact that he had caught her, angry at the fact that she was doing this to herself and he had seen her hit the rock bottom and built herself back up.

"why do you have to know this shit, huh? why do you want to see it? to prove that you're the better sibling? to prove you're fucking better than me? we know you're better than me, than chris, than everyone! you're a war hero, cyrus - and i barely graduated high school. do you really want to see it? well, fuck you - here it is!" her shaking fingers dug it out of her jacket as she shoved it in his face, eyes black with someone else because this wasn't rory.

"make you feel better now, cyrus niccolo? you feel better about yourself?"

ofriparian​:

location: petrelli household time: 1:45 am @thexwayward

there was nothing aurora adele valentina petrelli could remotely hide from her family - at least, of course, not her brother. cyrus knew her inside and out, had held her when she was not even ten minutes old and so he knew every in and out of her and that, most often, was nice - but not tonight. given the fact that rory had worked so hard to get into college, had stayed good and been going to her narcotics meetings, meeting with a therapist - it was all going so well for her. she was making good money, saving it, but it only took one little thought in her head to get rory to go right back to the heavenly h that she had been introduced to as a teenager. all it took was some old sleaze bag friend of rocko’s to come and drop by the lucky icarus, wondering why she she had been and slipping a sample of some great shit into her hand. 

she had tried to flush it down the toilet, but it had come back up - and she had wrestled and wrestled with herself, but she was an addict, she knew. rory didn’t choose to be an addict, certainly not - but still, there she was, in the bathroom of the lucky icarus at the end of her shift, shooting up before going home. 

she knew her parents were asleep, but they had just gone to bed, she knew. friday nights were late nights and cyrus came over to watch big ton’s favorite shows with him. she thought he would be gone by now, but upon stumbling into the front door, breaking one of her mother’s lamp - she saw him there in the kitchen. shit. 

“cy! shit - i - hey! i thought - i thought you would’ve gone home. i’m, uh - i’m totally exhausted. i think i’m going to - “ another stumble. right into the couch. she stabilized herself as she was halfway in the kitchen and the living room. “- go to bed. you wanna, uh, do breakfast tomorrow?” 

one look. that’s all he bothered to give before the truth hit him like a dead man hit the ground. what was warm and inviting grew cold and guarded, from coal to obsidian in a breath. he turned his attention away, spoon replaced in the bag of coffee. he focused elsewhere, centering the sudden anger that amassed in his stomach on the scrape of coffee grounds crunching beneath his utensil. even that, a tool, fueled rage. was it one like the instrument in his hand that held her vice not hours before? abandoning the coffee, cyrus shoved the bag, spoon and all aside, hands rested on the counter in front of him, shoulders hunched. “old habits die pretty fuckin’ hard, don’t they?” his tone was sharp, words flying off of his tongue like spears as they made way for someone he would die for.

the muscle in his jaw jumped beneath his stubbled cheek, knuckles white as they gripped the granite edge. he prayed the ache of pressed tendons in his palm would pull him back, but he couldn’t keep his expression down. the mask of the adonis he wore each day was splintering. tongue slipping over his bottom lip, cyrus flashed his sister a cynical smile.

the time for understanding was long gone. he had been firm but compassionate with her chosen disease the first time around. he wasn’t present enough to warn his sister away from the faults of her youth. that failing was on him. his sister had a habit of becoming a different person when she was high. he could forgive rory, but he could not forget that person. he hated her and every representation she carried on her opium wings.

“where’s the rest of it?” he pressed, finally glancing her way, allowing the ugly countenance of disgust and rage show. he was losing control of himself, the blood of emotions wine flushed his cheeks, chest rising in falling with growing rapidity. “don’t fucking start-” cyrus snapped, stopping her while she was ahead. “i’m not a fucking idiot. you and me both know you cant trust yourself enough to have one last fuckin’ hurrah. you bought more than a one goddamn dose. so let me ask again, and if you lie, i walk out that goddamn door and i don’t come back.” swallowing a breath that felt like concrete, he stepped out from behind that counter, fingers wrapping around the collar of his jacket. she’d bent his trust before, and the mend was never realized. this second hit was the breaking blow.

“where is the rest of it?”

[ofriparian]

location: petrelli household time: 1:45 am @thexwayward

there was nothing aurora adele valentina petrelli could remotely hide from her family - at least, of course, not her brother. cyrus knew her inside and out, had held her when she was not even ten minutes old and so he knew every in and out of her and that, most often, was nice - but not tonight. given the fact that rory had worked so hard to get into college, had stayed good and been going to her narcotics meetings, meeting with a therapist - it was all going so well for her. she was making good money, saving it, but it only took one little thought in her head to get rory to go right back to the heavenly h that she had been introduced to as a teenager. all it took was some old sleaze bag friend of rocko’s to come and drop by the lucky icarus, wondering why she she had been and slipping a sample of some great shit into her hand. 

she had tried to flush it down the toilet, but it had come back up - and she had wrestled and wrestled with herself, but she was an addict, she knew. rory didn’t choose to be an addict, certainly not - but still, there she was, in the bathroom of the lucky icarus at the end of her shift, shooting up before going home. 

she knew her parents were asleep, but they had just gone to bed, she knew. friday nights were late nights and cyrus came over to watch big ton’s favorite shows with him. she thought he would be gone by now, but upon stumbling into the front door, breaking one of her mother’s lamp - she saw him there in the kitchen. shit. 

“cy! shit - i - hey! i thought - i thought you would’ve gone home. i’m, uh - i’m totally exhausted. i think i’m going to - “ another stumble. right into the couch. she stabilized herself as she was halfway in the kitchen and the living room. “- go to bed. you wanna, uh, do breakfast tomorrow?” 

[ofriparian]

ofnihilism​:

one look. that’s all he bothered to give before the truth hit him like a dead man hit the ground. what was warm and inviting grew cold and guarded, from coal to obsidian in a breath. he turned his attention away, spoon replaced in the bag of coffee. he focused elsewhere, centering the sudden anger that amassed in his stomach on the scrape of coffee grounds crunching beneath his utensil. even that, a tool, fueled rage. was it one like the instrument in his hand that held her vice not hours before? abandoning the coffee, cyrus shoved the bag, spoon and all aside, hands rested on the counter in front of him, shoulders hunched. “old habits die pretty fuckin’ hard, don’t they?” his tone was sharp, words flying off of his tongue like spears as they made way for someone he would die for. 

the muscle in his jaw jumped beneath his stubbled cheek, knuckles white as they gripped the granite edge. he prayed the ache of pressed tendons in his palm would pull him back, but he couldn’t keep his expression down. the mask of the adonis he wore each day was splintering. tongue slipping over his bottom lip, cyrus flashed his sister a cynical smile. 

the time for understanding was long gone. he had been firm but compassionate with her chosen disease the first time around. he wasn’t present enough to warn his sister away from the faults of her youth. that failing was on him. his sister had a habit of becoming a different person when she was high. he could forgive rory, but he could not forget that person. he hated her and every representation she carried on her opium wings. 

“where’s the rest of it?” he pressed, finally glancing her way, allowing the ugly countenance of disgust and rage show. he was losing control of himself, the blood of emotions wine flushed his cheeks, chest rising in falling with growing rapidity. “don’t fucking start-” cyrus snapped, stopping her while she was ahead. “i’m not a fucking idiot. you and me both know you cant trust yourself enough to have one last fuckin’ hurrah. you bought more than a one goddamn dose. so let me ask again, and if you lie, i walk out that goddamn door and i don’t come back.” swallowing a breath that felt like concrete, he stepped out from behind that counter, fingers wrapping around the collar of his jacket. she’d bent his trust before, and the mend was never realized. this second hit was the breaking blow. 

“where is the rest of it?” 

disgust. that was the only thing that rory could even sense and feel that was writhing in cyrus’s veins right now. she had seen it before, when he had looked at rocko, when he had looked at those who did her harm, did his family harm - but he hadn’t ever looked at her like that. it broke her heart, left a breath out of her, that was how powerful his looks could be. she knew that he knew, and god, who the fuck was she kidding? cyrus knew every nook and cranny of her personality, and there was no hiding something like this from him. why had she done it? why had she had to do this? was it a last hurrah? rory felt her nimble fingers grip onto the side of the couch, her eyes closed for a split second as every color washed through her vision and made her dizzy. she hadn’t done heroine in so long, she had forgotten the way it made her feel - ethereal, but she didn’t want that now. she wanted the life she had slowly but surely built back, from the ruins of rocko’s death and more. she had gotten a job, moved out of the trailer that haunted her, gotten her own apartment now and now a new chance at the music program she had just gotten into. why had she done this? she knew why - she knew it was the voice of rocko martinelli from the grave, taunting and whispering sweet nothings of awful abuse into her ear, the way he used to before. take it, ror. take the fucking thing right now. i don’t want to be alone doing this - you’ll do it with me, right? rory felt like she couldn’t possibly leave the boy she loved behind and so she did the same thing he did, the same poison and look what it had cost her. 

“n-no, don’t ... don’t look at me like that. don’t - don’t look at me like that!” rory exclaimed, tears already streaming down her face, but she reached up and wiped them away quickly. “and don’t - don’t talk like that to me. don’t - come on. please. please. don’t ask me that, don’t ... “ she trailed off, moving into the kitchen, seeing the man in front of that knew her inside and out. 

she had no strength, no courage to fight him back, and she didn’t want to. she loved him so much, the person in this world that had never, never once, failed her in her own eyes. a hero amongst men, a pillar of strength she and her parents had always relied on. there was no hiding from him, no cloak she could hide behind that would remove the guilt, the horror in her chocolate eyes, a shade lighter than his. she couldn’t hide from the darkness that was his, the cloak of protection she always found in his eyes that she could only see now was rage. 

“please, please, cyrus, don’t .. don’t make me show you. i’ll get rid of it, i’ll ... “ her small hand went to her jacket, the pocket where the little extra packet of the shit that had ruined her entire life was in. her eyes were pleading, looking up into his eyes, pleading for him not to make her show him how much of a failure she was. her hand was inside the pocket as she kept her eyes on him, shaking her head. “please. cycy, don’t ... don’t make me show you.” 

[ofriparian]

location: the lucky icarus featuring: @ofnihilism​ 

it was a quiet night inside the pretty little bar that willa happened upon. sure, it wasn’t what she was used to, of course, but it was pretty enough and willa didn’t mind the bar when it was quiet. sitting there with her glass of whiskey, the room dying down, she had her eye on the blonde man before the bar with a heavy southern accent. she looked him up and down, as she leaned forward. “would you mind filling up my drink for me, love? i could use another. i just lost one hundred and eighty pounds today. all useless, pathetic shred of my husband, hmm? so - cheers to that. come on now, darling - you’ll drink with me, won’t you?” 

[ofriparian]

location: petrelli household featuring: @ofnihilism​

“ay! petrelli house, look who has come back from vacation from italy and brought gifts! where are my favorite petrelli lookers, huh?” luca’s voice had boomed into the petrelli household that night. it was friday night dinner - a regular night of italian feast and laughter in the petrelli household that might as well be his household. “ay, googatz, look what i got you! a handsome straight razor to get that gunk off that handsome face of yours.” he laughed, after kissing angelina and big ton on the cheek. “where’s my girl, rora? at work? eh, that’s okay. i’ll settle for you, ugly, since ange here is about to head off to work apparently.” 

[ofriparian]

location: petrelli household time: 1:03 am  featuring: @ofnihilism​

there was nothing aurora adele valentina petrelli could remotely hide from her family - at least, of course, not her brother. cyrus knew her inside and out, had held her when she was not even ten minutes old and so he knew every in and out of her and that, most often, was nice - but not tonight. given the fact that rory had worked so hard to get into college, had stayed good and been going to her narcotics meetings, meeting with a therapist - it was all going so well for her. she was making good money, saving it, but it only took one little thought in her head to get rory to go right back to the heavenly h that she had been introduced to as a teenager. all it took was some old sleaze bag friend of rocko’s to come and drop by the lucky icarus, wondering why she she had been and slipping a sample of some great shit into her hand. 

she had tried to flush it down the toilet, but it had come back up - and she had wrestled and wrestled with herself, but she was an addict, she knew. rory didn’t choose to be an addict, certainly not - but still, there she was, in the bathroom of the lucky icarus at the end of her shift, shooting up before going home. 

she knew her parents were asleep, but they had just gone to bed, she knew. friday nights were late nights and cyrus came over to watch big ton’s favorite shows with him. she thought he would be gone by now, but upon stumbling into the front door, breaking one of her mother’s lamp - she saw him there in the kitchen. shit. 

“cy! shit - i - hey! i thought - i thought you would’ve gone home. i’m, uh - i’m totally exhausted. i think i’m going to - “ another stumble. right into the couch. she stabilized herself as she was halfway in the kitchen and the living room. “- go to bed. you wanna, uh, do breakfast tomorrow?” 

[ofriparian]

shelvedsaints​:

“I know. They come for some good ol’ southern hospitality.” She nodded towards the glass she pushed towards him. “That’s a lil’ trick I picked up in Louisiana.”

While most of Vann’s friends had found their way to her circle one way or another, it wasn’t without initiation. Luca had yet to pass through her graces, some curiosity that came with a slight hesitation to what company he kept. She wasn’t entirely sure who they were and while she didn’t typically care, she wanted to know exactly what it was that he brought to the counter except war stories and an open tab.

“I am havin’ fun. That’s why I’m kicking your ass out. You’re some big macho man, right? That’s how you put it? Fix your car. Maybe you’ll get some people to buy you a drink. There’s something about a man in grease that gets everyone worked up.”

“Ay, Halen, you ever stop bustin’ balls, girl?” Luca had to shake his head and laugh, because there was no fooling or tiptoeing around Halen. She had to be one of the most interesting, funny girls he had ever met and in all honesty, he did like having her around. Things were never boring, or tired whenever he came down to the Lucky Icarus, not only for his good friend, Vann, but for his sister as well. “Big macho man, huh? Those are your words, Halen, not mine. I like that you think of me like that. It’s the muscles, ain’t it? It gets all the girls.” He smirked, taking another swig of his drink. “Maybe I don’t wanna fix my car, huh? Maybe I wanna spend a little time hanging out with one of my favorite twins - don’t tell your brother that though, then I’ll definitely be kicked out.” He looked her up and down, a smirk on his lips. “Let me ask you this, Hales - you ever stop givin’ good guys like me a hard time? I bet the fuck not.” 

[ofriparian]

shelvedsaints​:

open to: @ofriparian | aurora petrelli  location: outside of frank’s

“This better be for real, Rory,” He said under his breath, tucking the cash in his back pocket. They had been loitering around for too long now, and Avery had spent money he just barely had on some brightly colored soda to throw off suspicion. He was counting pennies this week, the decline in tourists leaving only locals entering Blue Heaven. If you knew the area, you knew just where the best placed to park were and you hardly every needed the assistance of a valet. 

“When’s he gonna be here?” He asked again, impatient. “We’re gonna get stopped if he doesn’t show up soon.”

“Be for real? Do I look like a fucking amateur to you?” Rory arched her eyebrows as she munched on some bagel chips she had bought for herself. “He’s a great dealer - he just doesn’t have the best perception of time. You said you wanted to have some fun and so do I. I got you your fuckin’ weird ass designer pills and I got myself some coke and weed. Bada bing bada boom. I told him 8pm, didn’t I? It’s only 8:30. I didn’t know you were such a stickler for time, weirdo.” Rory threw a bagel chip at him and smirked. “Who’s going to stop us at this hour? I don’t see any cops, do you? Heelllooo, cops! Try and stop us from doing bad things!” She giggled, more so on a sugar rush from the two cans of coke she had and on a semi empty stomach. “You want your fun time or not?” 

[ofriparian]

location: grotto mobile home  featuring: @shelvedsaints​

“Is this entire mobile park like this - filthy and just out of order? Why are the trailers looking like this - have you people ever heard of power washing?” Willa asked, biting down on her lip as she looked through the binoculars around the large mobile home park. With a good amount of money in her wallet, Willa was happy to put down any amount of money to put her name on something - but her name on some disgusting mobile park was not it. She would have to tear it all down, of course - make something spectacular. That was what Willa wanted her name to be - the people out of their homes was something she didn’t particularly care about. 

“This - all of it - it will all have to go.” 

[ofriparian]

shelvedsaints​:

open to: everyone location: lucky icarus

“KISS ARE BUSINESSMEN!”

“When they wrote I Was Made For Loving You, they completely abandoned their genre as a means of chasing disco that was blowing up across the world! And they succeeded! They nearly ostracized themselves from their fans, but they were being played in clubs everywhere, in places they wouldn’t otherwise touch unless it was a theme night!” Halen explained, her voice shrill as she practically knocked over the drinks in front of her to sit on her knees in her seat. She would her soap box for that moment, so help her god. “They tried their hand, they got their name out there, and they made bank over disco. A glam rock band made bank in the disco scene! It just goes to prove that it’s not just talent that gets you anywhere, it’s who’s crunching the numbers.”

It was near the end of the night and Rory had yet to clean up a few tables, a few regular drunks there and arguing with one another. Rory knew it was all downhill the second one of them started to argue with Halen about Kiss, and it was something that Rory just had to shake her head at and chuckle. “Oh, God. Halen, he’s fuckin’ drunk. Just calm down and have a drink with me. Let him go home, because he will demand I get him another drink if you keep talkin’ to him, come on.” Rory took a swig of her drink and sighed. “And besides, we all know that Kiss is superior to most bands - although you know how much I love the Smiths.” 

[ofriparian]

tendiespullum​:

Chris turned her head to look over at Rory when she heard her voice, watching her as she got up to move away from the laptop. “You want me to read it for you?” She exhaled as she closed her book, tossing it on to the surface of the table, pulling herself over to Rory’s stool. “Alright, what am I doing? I’m looking to see if your name is on this website?” She asked as she glanced over in her friend’s direction.

Rory nervously bit down on her nails, pacing back and forth, back and forth. “Yes, I just - I need to know whether or not I got into this music program I’ve been wanting to get into it. I’ve been going back to school and I just - I applied early for this spot and I’m really excited. God - I’m so fuckin’ nervous! Can you just look to see my name on the list? Aurora Petrelli?” She paced a bit more, reaching forward and downing a drink. “I - Wait, no, let me look, let me look!” Going over to the computer, her heart racing a mile a minute, she skimmed the short list to see none other than Aurora Petrelli. With eyes widened, in shock, she looked over at Chris and jumped up and down. “Chris! Chris! It says my name! It says - my fucking name! I got in! I got in!” 

[ofriparian]

shelvedsaints​:

open to: @ofriparian​ | luca location: the lucky icarus

It had been nearly two hours since Luca waltzed through the Lucky Icarus. Through his thick accent and the music, Halen had been able to make out that his car had broken down and with the reputation of AAA, who knew how long it would take for them to get here. As far as she knew, he had seemed to give up on them too because his fingers were busy shooting requests for another round into the air rather than texting or calling for an update.

Taking a place behind the counter, just at the edge, she handed Luca his next drink but not without a little garnish from her mouth.

“I think you’ve been here too damn long, Luca.”

If it were one place that Luca loved the most in the Keys, it was the Lucky Icarus and the owner - his buddy, Vann and his colorful yet funny as fuck sister, Halen. They were a staple in his little world and after coming to have some fun and relax, he hadn’t intended for his car to break down in the rain. He had pulled in to the nearest place, Lucky Icarus of course, and decided while he was there, he might as well have some fun. He looked over at Halen, who had taken the drink he had and spit into it - something only she would quite honestly do. “See, Halen, that’s why people come here - for hospitality like that. They know the owner’s sister is you.” He shook his head, smirking. “Why you gotta kick me out? I’m havin’ fun. Aren’t you?” 

[ofriparian]

location: the lucky icarus  opened to: all 

Rory had brought her laptop to work that day, mainly because she knew her acceptance notice was going to be posted on whether or not she had gotten into a music program in one of the schools she had applied to. This would be such a big step for her, a step of getting her life back on track, after all that had happened, and when her advisor texted her to let her know the acceptances were posted - Rory couldn’t even look. “No, no, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.” She got up, walking around from the counter where she had her laptop propped up. 

“Just - hey, can you read it for me? Just read whether or not you see my name posted on the website? Aurora Petrelli? I’d rather hear it from someone else, just - don’t look at me like that, can you just let me know? Please?” 

[ofriparian]

shelvedsaints​:

Taryn looked to the script, a small twitch to her brow as she considered the woman’s idea only for those hopes to be squashed by the placement. 

“If it would fit, it would have been a good idea, but there’s no way I can get all nine letters in there unless we move significantly below the wrist,” Taryn said, pen reached out to show her. “The line are pretty thick so there’s got to be more than some flower. What are some things you like, something you want to reclaim for just yourself to wipe it away?

Rory looked at the way Taryn had her pen, the way she described the tattoo and she could tell, just from the work she had seen Taryn do, just how good she was at this. Some things she wanted to reclaim for herself, things she wanted to wipe away? It was a good way of putting things, after all. She looked up and smiled, the perfect idea coming tom her. “What about music notes? Would that work at all? I used to sing - I mean, I still do sing, it’s just something I want to do now - go back to school for music. You think that would work?” She asked, curiously. She laid out her delicate wrist for Taryn to see and smiled. “You get a lot of exes comin’ in here, wanting new tattoos or tatted over after a bad break up?”