morality-or-chains

[morality-or-chains]

Closed Started for @emotionlcss

Somewhere around the tenth time he stopped in to get pizza Caleb had to admit to himself that he was perhaps straying terribly close to the more than friends territory. He's been in far more than that, but there's something about Dean's eyes as they light up when he sees him that has him coming back again and again.

Every time he spends twenty minutes doing his hair before going to a pizza parlor he loses a little credibility as the towns local bachelor, but then maybe he lost all credibility when he started eating pizza three times a week.

So yes, here he is again. Glutton for punishment, or maybe just for pizza. He seats himself in the usual spot by the window so he can see the way the leaves coast down from the trees and waits for Dean to spot him like he always does, fingers tapping along his jeans as he does.

[morality-or-chains]

There is a certain slow delicacy to the way Marinette moves, fingers barely grazing the fruit, eyes dipped down, eyelashes long and curled at the end like in the movies. She really does look like something Hollywood would want to pamper, the kind of old black and white films that his ma secretly watched when they were the only ones home.

She dreamed of romance, of being kissed on the cheek and dancing in the rain and all she ever got was a kiss with knuckles and soaked down to the bone when she was locked out of the house during storms. He remembers once watching through his curtains on one of those days. It was storming so hard the entire world was shaking.

Thunder that shook the window panes and she was in a red dress. He watched her walk out into the field, partly visible with all the water coming down, a blurry figure with spread arms, head tilted back. Even through the storm he could hear the way she screamed at the sky. That sound never left him.

It grafted itself along his spine, laid with him in his own sorrow when she was gone. Levi blinks, startled by the recollection of memory. He's been thinking of his mom today a lot more than he normally lets himself. Stayed too quiet too long, left Marinette wandering the fruits in silence.

"There's lots to do," He says even if it comes too late, "Ranch work is never done. Sometimes it's helpful to have two more hands, but it's ... well it ain't fine work. It's muddy, little bloody sometimes. We got someone who does the clericals."

He can't picture a woman like her riding around on the back of a horse, throwing lassos, tying calves, and getting her knees dirty. But then there's ass in assume for a reason. "I'll give you the run down once things settle and you can see if any of it interests you, even if it doesn't, it's good to know."

Marinette plucked a pomegranate from the display, fingers brushing across its skin with practiced care. She turned it in her palm, checking for a slight flattening near the blossom end before placing it back among the others. As he spoke, she sifted through the pile, slowly selecting a few and easing them into the basket, the rustle of fruit soft and steady between his words. Lifting one to her nose, she inhaled its scent- sweet, faintly tart- and smiled.

He’s trying. She could feel it in the quiet sincerity of his voice, in the way he skirted around his wants without ever making them feel like demands. There was something tender in that, almost boyish. A simple longing to have her nearby. And that, she thought, is something I can easily give.

“Hm.” She nodded before drifting to the next display, noting the citrus with quiet curiosity. “I wouldn’t want you to just… be here,” she said gently. “I’d want you to be present.” Her finger tapped lightly against her cheek as she searched for the words, her gaze still on neat rows of fruit. “I need to know when you like something. When you don’t. And I’ll tell you the same. That’s how it should be, I think.” A smile formed then, as she turned to him with a lemon cradled in one hand.

“Imagine if I started selling pomegranate biscuits,” she mused, her nose wrinkling playfully. “You’d have to taste every batch just to be kind, and you’d hate every bite. That wouldn’t be good for either of us.” She looked up at him then, her expression light. “Things like that matter, no? I want to know you. What’s good. What’s not.” Her voice softened as she turned back toward the lemons, fingertips brushing over their dimpled skin. “I think I’ll need some time to settle before I decide what to do,” she admitted. “I don’t know yet if what I did back home will be useful.”

A quiet beat passed. Then, more tentatively, almost shyly, her gaze flicked to his. “How would I help on the ranch?”

[morality-or-chains]

Are you still looking for the passenger role players because I am so down

Possibly so! Right now I would only really be interested in Stockroom Syndrome (Benson x Randy) and could muse as either. Feel free to reach out or send a starter/meme if you're interested.

[morality-or-chains]

I am officially back from hiatus. Ya' boy got his name legally changed, had a birthday, and got so busy he almost spontaneously combusted.

I will be cutting the majority of my threads, minus a few to give myself an easy start back. If you're interested in starting something new feel free to drop a meme in my asks, or reach out.

[morality-or-chains]

---- Ｔｅｓｔ Ｍｕｓｅｓ

Nash Conium | aged 29+ | AMAB, male | Pansexual, masc leaning | Werewolf Face Claim: Kit Harrington Tone: werewolves (not abo affiliated), found family, dealing with anger, drifter, love of self, natural instinct

Buck Deerfield | aged 24+ | AMAB, male | Pansexual, fem leaning | Human or something other Face Claim: Kyle Gallner Tone: small town, trailer trash, hunting, horror, unusual behavior, cannibalism, possession, midwest hopelessness

[morality-or-chains]

I've added some new fandoms and fandom muses to my site! Please give a warm welcome to: Claire Obscur: Expedition 33 -- Gustave, Maelle, Verso, Renoir Haunting of Hill House -- Nell Crain The Passenger -- Benson, Randy Bradly Hades -- Zagreus, Thanatos

Let me know if you're interested in any of these, muse is super high for Expedition 33!

[morality-or-chains]

Weston sits there for a moment, eyes glued to some TV program he hasn't seen this whole time. Why is such a vast question. Simple and explainable at the same time. Parker's accident happened only a few days after their friendship went up in flames, he'd spent time blaming himself for it, spent time worrying, spent time afraid, spent time angry.

"I am not the man that I should be." He says quietly, not meeting his eye. "I have never been the man I thought I was. Not the man Colt wants me to be, not the man that you deserve." His jaw tightens until his teeth ache.

He's come to understand that there are good and bad people in the world and Parker is good and he is bad. And it might just be that simple. "Some people are jus' all rotten inside."

The air is full of knives, heavy with anger and pain and unspoken regret. Parker knows he should slam this door shut - literally and metaphorically - leave the hospital, and never come back. But he has to know.

"Why did you do it?" His voice comes out quieter now, more pained than vicious. "You and I have been best friends since before first grade. And yeah, I liked you." More than liked, but he's not going to get into that now. "If you didn't feel the same way, fine. But you didn't show up to the hospital or my folks' place once. Not even one time. Like...like I never existed. Like we were never friends. Trust me, that hurt a lot worse than a busted knee."

His throat is painfully tight and he forces it away. Damn it, he is not going to cry, not now. "I needed my friend, and you weren't there. So yeah, you fucked up."

[morality-or-chains]

Levi has never put all that much stock in gender roles, the way his mom was treated really cured him of any of those misogynistic tendencies. He shifts a little closer making sure they're not in anyone's way, basket dangling from one hand, fingers fiddling with it. "I think you should do what you want to do." He settles on.

He doesn't like the idea of her stuck miserable in their home coming to resent him in her boredom. "Ya' can help on the ranch if you want or you can get a job in town, you could uh have one of them farmer's stalls on Saturdays and sell pomegranate biscuits or something. I would uh rather not have you travel without me, like leave for days or weeks at a time cause that's sorta not ... well I was hopin' to ... I would want you to be around is all."

None of this is coming out right, but he's always been bad at describing what he needs and wants. Levi is good at rolling with whatever anyone else wants, hoping to keep the peace, to keep his temper calm. To give whatever needs to be given and take nothing in return.

Lance is always worried about that. Worried that Levi doesn't really live at all, so much as he exists in the role that he has assigned himself. So much so he had a website choose his wife. Everything picked for him, nothing ever changing. "Be whatever you want," He says quietly, "Do whatever you want. And I'll jus' be here."

Marinette couldn’t help a smile when he insisted she buy a few. He’d made it sound as though the ranch sat far removed from town, so she took his advice to heart, already glancing around as he insisted she buy what she liked. The space reminded her more of a supermarket than the markets she favored back home. This was large, quiet, organized in sprawling aisles with no shortage of choices.

She had just begun to reach for her wallet when she heard her name. "Hm?" She turned, pausing mid-step, eyes meeting his. He was circling back to what he’d said at the dress shop, but this time it was landed differently, a firmer. More a of a declaration than an offer. A grounded insistence: today, not tomorrow.

Something in her hesitated. Not resistance, exactly- but with the sense boundaries were being drawn- kindly, not with force- but drawn nonetheless. They weren’t married yet, and still, he was shouldering her already. Her eyes lingered on him a beat, thoughtful, then she offered a small nod.

Still, a question surfaced before she could stop it. “Would you rather I stay home… and not work?” Her voice held no challenge, only a quiet curiosity- as if she was trying to trace the outline of the life he pictured. They were still standing near the entrance, and after a moment she reached for his sleeve, catching it gently between her fingers and guiding him with her toward the produce. “I don’t mind,” she said, her voice still low. “I just want to know what you see when you think of us.”

[morality-or-chains]

Reece finds himself pausing, one hand pressing to the counter. He is a strong willed man, he never backs down, never flinches at the pop of a weapon, at a hit. He is sturdy. Right now he does not feel sturdy, and really he should have seen this coming. It should have become obvious when he kept coming back over and over again.

Infatuation has bled into affection, it's coveting, into possession. She is breathtaking and he'll burn this whole bakery to the ground if she changes her mind now. "You are perfect." He murmurs, stepping closer, resting his hand along her hip, mind flashing through the position he so recently had her in, reminding himself that she is his, his for now, his forever.

His other hand comes to her jaw, thumb tracing along her cheek, "I'm keeping you, Sutton, you know that right?" His thumb continues that soft unconcerned pattern, shifting a little closer, "You're a kept woman now."

his voice had taken her slightly by surprise, looking up as she was washing over the counter to see the bag in his hand. ❝ you don't like chocolate? ❞ sutton asked, though she was obviously teasing. her gaze then dropping to the bag in his hand, brows furrowing as she was slightly confused before spotting the name on the side of that bag. ❝ the errand you had to run was getting me something to wear? seriously? you didn't have to go and do that. ❞ she shook her head as she moved over to where he was, peering into the bag.

something had told the girl that it wouldn't be worth it to try and fight him on it, so instead she took the bag from him. moving up on her tip toes as she pressed a faint kiss to his cheek. ❝ thank you, and i'll be right back. ❞ turning from him, she'd then made her way into the bathroom pulling off the dirty clothes as she looked at herself in the mirror. with the help of the water, and paper towels she had managed to get every last bit of flour off of her body, though she knew she was definitely going to need a shower before the night was over to take care of everything else. as she took the dress from the bag a gasp fell from her lips at just how gorgeous it was, the fabric between her fingers was better than she could have imagined and immediately sutton had pulled it on.

pulling her hair from the ponytail on her head she ran her fingers through the loose strands making sure that it all fit into place, not wanting to make it look a mess. once she was happy with her look she finally walked out from the bathroom, a smile on her features as she stood in front of him. ❝ how does it look? ❞ 

[morality-or-chains]

Lachlan ended up working late again, a habit that he can't quite avoid given his boss can't seem to plan proper deadlines to save his life. He reminds himself as he drives along the slick curving roads that someday he'll be his own boss and someone else can work shit hours on his behalf.

He twists around another bend and a figure appears in the dimmed headlights of his car, thumb out, rain bucketing down. "Son of a ... " Normally he's not the type but he's driving in that spot between towns and it's raining hard. "Be an ass to keep going," He mutters to himself as he slows, coming to a stop, leaning to wave his hand to let the other person know they can get in. This will be his act of kindness this week, or at least it'll be a hell of a story to tell in the morning.

@morality-or-chains saw someone outside

Forgive the cliche, but it was a dark and stormy night.

The type of night that might just make you think the whole world might be going to hell. Jay Davis wasn't going to hell, no sir, and his sister Shelly wasn't going there either. Maybe their other sister, Cheyanne was, but that was a story for another time. Right now the only play Jay was headed was back up the road towards interstate 80 and he was hoping to catch a ride on the way.

Thumb's stuck out as he walks backwards along the road in the pouring rain, hoping and praying someone stops to pick his sorry ass up before someone calls the cops.

[morality-or-chains]

dreamcore && weirdcore sentence starters 

╰┈➤ 　ａ　ｖａｒｉｅｔｙ　ｏｆ　ｓｅｎｔｅｎｃｅｓ　ｔｈａｔ　ｓｅｅｍ　ｏｕｔ　ｏｆ　ｔｈｅ　ｒｅａｌｉｔｙ　ｏｆ　ｔｈｉｓ　ｒｅａｌｍ．．．

❝ you've been here before, but do you remember how to leave? ❞

❝ i'm scared that you'll forget my name someday. ❞

❝ are you lost? it's alright. ❞

❝ there's not much time left anymore. ❞

❝ look at our pretty world! isn't it just wonderful? ❞

❝ dreams do come true! everything is so beautiful! ❞

❝ you don't belong here, do you? ❞

❝ i'll see you in my dreams. ❞

❝ i want to heal, but then what will i be? ❞

❝ the world you were born in no longer exists. ❞

❝ i hope one day you wake up not bearing that heavy feeling anymore. ❞

❝ please, don't expect too much from me. ❞

❝ don't add more pain to the world, there's enough already. ❞

❝ please... take me with you? ❞

❝ do you remember being here? ❞

❝ maybe one day they will understand. just not today. ❞

❝ imagine a world where you're happy. ❞

❝ tell me. was it worth it? ❞

❝ love is always with you, even if you can't see it. ❞

❝ you exist in more ways than you may ever know. ❞

❝ no one can disappear from this earth. ❞

❝ this world is constantly changing, are you changing along with it?❞

❝ there is no one here, just keep walking. ❞

❝ don't bother trying to find the way home, you never belonged there anyway. ❞

❝ congratulations! you've made it to the end! enjoy your time! ❞

❝ don't ignore the messages you've received. ❞

❝ are we safe now? ❞

❝ you did exactly what you said you wouldn't do. ❞

❝ oh god. i remember this place. ❞

❝ was it ever even real? ❞

❝ you can never go back, and you have to live with that. ❞

❝ was this what i asked for? ❞

❝ if i disappeared, would you look for me? ❞

❝ you've actually been here before. i just made sure you forgot. ❞

❝ your journey has come to an end. ❞

❝ you were so, so special. ❞

[morality-or-chains]

Late Night with the Devil Ask Meme.

“Mindless violence lit up the sky.”

“I got it. Excuse me.”

“Remember darling?”

“How is someone not supposed to fall in love with that?”

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“I’ll be right back, and you will not.”

“What do you got there?”

“Oh, that’s not music.”

“So, you’re not meant to touch it?”

“That one went over the fence.”

“I get that joke.”

“Where is Vincent Price when you need him?”

“Hey, do I look nervous to you?”

“We use them to hide from angry spirits.”

“Do you hear the voices of the dead all the time?”

“I know, but it feels like only yesterday.”

“Who will accept?”

“We’re a little spooked back there.”

“What the hell are you still doing here?”

“You look like you might need a bourbon.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“If you liked it, yeah. I’ll take full credit.”

“I don’t have time to play kiss ass right now.”

“Holy smokes.”

“Many regarded you as the best in the biz.”

“I do not need that man’s money.”

“Do you need a drink of water?”

“What are you up to?”

“It’s going to be okay.”

“You’re just overtired, baby.”

“The ambulance is coming.”

“Silky as ever.”

“You can actually talk directly to me.”

“Have you ever watched my show before?”

“I was very sad when I heard about that.”

“Such wise words from one so young.”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s what’s going to help you sell your book.”

“You told me you’re ready for it.”

“You’re not going to back out right now.”

“The paramedics couldn’t get it under control.”

“Nobody can find out about this.”

“I’ll do the best that I can.”

“Where’s my sacrificial dagger?”

“I can’t stop it.”

“We haven’t come on here for your amusement.”

“And why do you call him that?”

“The people have spoken.”

“This is your moment.”

“Did you hear anything I said back there?”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I give you express permission to go right for that exit.”

“What has gotten into you?”

“Whatever you might see or hear, I ask you all to remain calm.”

“May I ask who is present now?”

“There is no need to be alarmed.”

“Good to see you again.”

“Why would you hurt me like that?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“A bit embarrassed, I guess. But I’m okay.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Don’t you go all screwy on me.”

“What is it about them that unsettles you?”

“You mean you have no idea?”

“You set the whole thing up.”

[morality-or-chains]

𝙸𝚃'𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳 𝙿𝚃.𝙸𝙸 (𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙰𝙻𝚈𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙲 - 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙳 𝙻𝚈𝚁𝙸𝙲𝚂).

content warning applies. change any pronouns / wording if necessary.

i’d like to think that you knew me better than anybody else.

what if i give up too soon?

i don't know what i heard.

there is a crow that i can see on my street almost every day.

what's a word for lonely that doesn't mean alone?

you're all that i've got to lose.

i saw the end of the world last night.

you were mad at the whole world.

you think you look older, i think you look alive.

i don't wanna need anything.

it didn't save me like i thought it would.

if i loved you at the start then i would love you at the end.

i don't wanna die anymore.

am i brave if the noise doesn't scare me?

i’d stay but i don't wanna bore you.

i have more than enough

i can't fix all the things that you couldn't.

and it's a damn shame you're good at winning.

bury me under gravel just deep enough so nobody finds me.

mark my words, there's a thousand things that don't wash out with anything.

i have to find it and cut it out.

now you're taller than you've ever been.

your costume's in the basement at the bottom of a shelf.

and just like that, we’re starting over.

well i have more than enough for the both of us.

i keep you clean.

was it just like you had before?

there isn't really much to say.

i know it's not what you thought i'd say.

i love you carefully.

i know you're probably standing there wishing that i wasn't here.

i'm sure that someone will draw a new one and cover it before they leave.

i know you don't like the sound.

i can still hear the sound of you laughing all the way down.

does it get too hard being a good person every day of your life?

sometimes i'm scared that i'll only ever feel everything once.

you were angry it didn't stop when you did.

i can't handle when the fight runs out.

i'd do anything but ask for your help.

living takes more than to just survive.

it's gonna rain soon.

i can never feel the same thing cause i change too much.

would i have to forgive you still?

some part of me had to care for you.

pretty soon i'm gonna say something that i’ll eventually regret.

will you still walk me home?

just because she told you so it doesn't mеan that she's right.

you still have more fight in you than you ever really did when you were young.

what would it take for me to be cared for, too?

look at us, carefree.

i'm hardly brave, i know.

did you want to be something more?

i act like i'm dumb for my age.

what you tell her, she will take to her grave.

there is no reason to be someone else.

do you still want me here?

don't worry now, it's already dead.

i would've died for it.

i can hear her disappointment from here.

there's a mark on the wall, you see.

you wouldn't talk even when somebody was listening.

i'll show you how.

something is rotten inside of me.

aren't you tired?

he lets me watch him there as long as i stand far away and as long as i am quiet.

[morality-or-chains]

Though he does not recall the specific day he has heard the tale of the day he was put into what began as Karate and expanded into various other pursuits from there. Apparently he threw a vase at his mother, cut open her face, and started laughing. Allegedly after that was when his training started, six days a week.

He'd kept at it his whole childhood, and so Josiah gets him on the ground mostly out of surprise than anything. He'd figured this would be the time the man would start cowering. Instead he's hit with his full, shouting, wet rage.

They grapple, Bryce relaxes into the touch, remembering everything he's been taught. Find where he is, what he's doing, and there. He shoves forward grabs him by the shoulder and twists, weight carrying them over until Josiah hits the gravel and Bryce slides up onto his stomach so he can't buck him off.

He throws the gun, dismissively to the side into the tall grass and laughs. There's blood on his hands from his arm, and a grin wide across his face. "I'll teach you." He offers, and then laughs again dodging an errant blow with his wrist before he tires of the flailing and gets his arms pinned, using the injury against him. "Hey, hey, settle, settle. No need to be dramatic." He hushes him like he's a tantruming toddler, "Shh, shh, I'm not gonna hurt you. Not anymore. Breathe. We're jus' having fun, right, Jos. Right?"

fool him once, shame on you... but fool josiah lynch twice? that's just an embarrassment to himself. he was quick, but not quite quick enough. dodging, ducking, anticipating this time - and the sting of pain was less than before, though he did flinch when the bullet took off in his direction. still got him, ripping against the flesh, even as an even slighter graze. fire now exploded in his arm - but the spill of blood that dripped to his fingers wasn't the only red that he saw.

anger flared. three shots gone, which meant three shots left, but the math fell to the wayside as something more empowering than fear claimed his emotion. past trauma faded from his mind's eye as focus narrowed on bryce. he was moving, closing the space, a growl emerging from his throat as he bobbed with an uneven gait. ready for another shot to ring out, even as he kicked his heels && trusted in surprising speed for a man of his height && size. barreled into bryce with the shoulder above his remaining good arm, not even noticing when agony flared from the open wounds in his bicep. head tucked && arms close to his body, one hand clasped on his wrist, and everything compact - protection for if either flailed, and the gun went off yet again. like he'd learned to fight on the streets, when it's life or death, and playing fair signs the ticket to hell.

" you with the gun is the fuckin' threat, you deranged, psycho lunatic! " josiah was yelling now, letting his body crash against bryce && droplets of blood fly as they fell, bodies into the gravel of the spooky, haunted drive. " knock it off! " teeth gnashed as he struggled to fight down && pin the weaponed arm, to try && free it from bryce's hand, all the while an eerie sense of calm overcoming his body as he waited for another shot. maybe he was cured after all. " shoot at me again, and you're fucking dead! i won't need a gun for what i'll do to you! " face flushed, words tumbling out as he growled in bryce's face - he'd allowed the anger to take him over, snuffing out the fear, eyes that of a wild animal as he fought against bryce like it was for his life. spit flinging from between his teeth as he hissed each threat out, nails raking against the exposure of arm he'd managed to grasp above the handle of the hot barrel.

[morality-or-chains]

He would like to think he is a relatively sane man, but Bryce has never been quite right. Chateau was born sweet, not a hair out of place, normal and intelligent, kind, and ambitious. There was so much about her to love, and so she had been utterly adored until she was no longer. That day made her funny, off, different than before, but Bryce ... he was born funny.

He came out all teeth and smiles and violence. Even when he was extremely young things never really went the way they should. Tutors quit, people complained, nannies wore peas. So though he would like to think that he is normal, a put together member of society, that is not who he is.

Bryce wonders if Josiah can see it, the tiger in him. The pacing, patrolling beast that will lunge at the slightest provocation. This thing that will not be hunted, that will not bow to the lesser predator or larger prey. His smile widens at the sight of blood, at alarm. It's not personal, it never is. Well sometimes it is, but not today.

"Mais il leur dit. C'est moi, n'ayez point de peur." He says and shoots him again. This time it grazes just below the spot already torn and bleeding. "Look me in the eye." He demands, "Which is the threat? Me or the gun?"

{ Translation: But he saith unto them, It is I; be not afraid. }

it was easier to place his trust in sheer luck than it was the gold metal of a gun that held a chamber full of bullets. faith that a 1 in 6 shot would miss had been easier to stomach than a loaded weapon held his way - piercing blue eyes && a flirtatious smile doing little to dampen the shock that rippled through josiah as the shot rang out. " fucking christ! " he hissed out in a twisted yowl/gasp/scream, flinching && placing a hand to his arm before the pain even fully registered. warm blood met his grasp, and he clutched the wound, heart racing in his ears for a second as it took a moment for realization to sink in that bryce had only fired off a mild warning.

he could have killed him dead, then && there. one, two - straight to the heart, maybe he'd go for the headshot. uncertainty, and yes, something identical to fear passed over puzzled, betrayed, still shocked dark brown eyes. bouncing from gun to bryce's little quirked head, the interest that glistened from the smoking barrel.

a shout full of rage bubbled up in josiah's throat, but he knew better than to release it. knew better than to piss off the man with a gun. besides; he understood the point now. he'd been so distracted by the mere presence of the weapon, he had been caught off-guard, taken by surprise when the bullet was allowed to fly. he hadn't watched bryce closely enough. he'd discounted the man behind the gun, and he'd paid the price. besides... josiah knew he couldn't be mad, not really, as he let the slow inhale && exhale try to calm his frayed nerves. bryce had done literally exactly what'd he asked.

" no- no, no, no, that's not.... necessary. " quickly josiah shook his head, putting the red-stained hand up in defeat, though he was uncomfortable still with the gun pointed his way. four shots left, he knew it all too well, and made sure to keep his eye closely trained on bryce now. ready for the slightest twitch, a tiny clue. shit... maybe he was a little scared of him now. " i get the idea now. your argument was... very convincing. "

[morality-or-chains]

It doesn't take him long to grab her something to put on, make the fast purchase and head back into the bakery, bag in hand. He figured it would be polite to grab shoes too so they're also in the bag. Maybe she'll question how he knows all her sizes or maybe she'll smile and tell him that she loves it. Regardless it beats a flour covered apron or whatever else it is she's currently wearing.

He dips back into the kitchen glancing around, it's a little better and she's in stained up clothes. Yep, running across the street was a good idea. Reece risks his tongue, "Pork chops in that chocolate covered t-shirt?" He jokes, shaking his head. He holds out the bag and the clothing in it, "Why don't you put on somethin' a little nicer?"

Reece can't help but admit that this is a bit of a selfish whim, I mean what man doesn't want to see his girl all dolled up in his favorite color? Plus, he's only ever seen her in work clothes, never anything nice, and so this will be a change of pace too.

she didn't ask any questions, not when he told whoever was on the other line of the phone that she was coming over, not when he told her to get cleaned up, she was just too enthralled in the fact that he offered her dinner, and wanted to stay around her that she smiled. ❝ take all the time you need! ❞ she smiled after him, not wanting to stand in the way of any errands at all.

as he slipped out of the bakery she finally let out a breath, turning to look at herself and she couldn't help but to laugh at the sight. shaking her head she picked up a washcloth, moving the sink as she cleaned herself up, getting off most of, if not all, of the flour stuck to her body. tossing the apron into the sink the girl grabbed her clothes from before, slipping them on even if they were a disaster from the baking she'd been doing before he came in. it was better than nothing. from there she slowly moved around the kitchen, cleaning up after the two of them, unsure how long he'd be gone, but she knew that if she hadn't cleaned up now, it would be worse in the morning, and coming into this kind of mess wasn't something she'd wanted to have to deal with.

[morality-or-chains]

A raw chuckle escapes him, "Do I look like the kind of man Ace could lift and toss over a balcony?" He takes a turn onto the busy streets of the city, heading in the direction of his favorite coffee place. "He can complain all he wants but baby needs a macchiato and I'll be damned if I don't get one."

Threats are like teasing where the three of them are concerned, utterly harmless. Anyone else however is an entirely different story, Lenny has only thrown a few guys off balconies the last few years, but there's always a chance for more.

"As for the assistants, sure, he goes through them quick but that's because he's vetting. Once he figures you out, then he knows where to put you. And no it's not a sex thing," He assured her mostly because he's tired of women jumping to that conclusion like they're important or something.

"He can score jus' fine without needing to pull some girl along by her need to save her family or whatever. He's a very nice gangster." Lenny says, voice dripping with sarcasm, "At least where your precious womanhood is concerned. Do you want a coffee or not?"

Well, that was something. He liked questions. Ferah finds his eyes, and despite his imposing figure, his smile seems genuine. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as bad as she feared. Or perhaps she was just being naive.

"They?" She shifts in her seat, the leather soft against her skin, while the thought of those who came before her gnawed at her. "Are there usually a lot?" Would she be working alongside others? Were they all women who turned to Reece for help the way she did?

The color from her face disappears at the mention of being his brother. Suddenly, she feels tense again, like at any moment she'd be bent in half if she steps even the slightest out of line. Still, she has to keep her composure. He said not to cry after all.

"Did he not say he'd throw you off the balcony if we stopped for coffee?" She speaks again, a single brow perking up. She could do this. Could pretend to be cool, calm, and collected, even if she was none of those things.

"I may have to pass. I'm not looking to die this early on. Or ever, really."