chaotiicneutrality
“You got somethin' for me?” the expectant thug stood with his thumbs in his pockets, tongue slipping between two protrusions of pink flesh, wetting them with a sway of his shoulders that fell under the category of his intimidation tactics. Eyebrows lurched upwards as a nonverbal re-inquiry in response to the teen's silence. He dealt with high school kids all the time, and while they may be stupid as shit, their money was just as good as any he'd get off the streets. A deal was a deal, and he was more than compliant with exchanging his services (any one of them) for a sizable payout.















