#manvvithoutfear

        Events like this were really a test of will for her. While on the surface it seemed like the good men and women of the city, the rich, the famous and those that had been born into money were doing an honourable thing, deep down it was just another pissing contest for them all. It was a way to low-key show off their bank balances without seeming vulgar -because even the rich have an etiquette about such things- and instead appear selfless and generous.

        It was exasperating. But only because her intentions were actually good ones. For her, this wasn’t about flexing in front of her peers but rather an avenue in which she could atone for some of the less savoury things she’d done in her life. Would it wipe the slate clean? No. But it was a start.

        The dress she wore was on the wrong side of being too tight, well, for her at least, to the men that walked by her and flashed a toothy and too white smile at her, it was on the right side of tight, and her shoes had started to make the arches of her feet hurt. Not that you’d know from looking at her; her gait was poised, practised and never faltered.

        The Red Room was to thank for that. Wearing heels that did wonderful things to her calves and made her backside wiggle when she walked and all without complaint... yeah, she’d give them that one.

        It wasn’t long until those toothy smiles became whispered words, words they hoped their wives or girlfriends wouldn’t hear, words that honestly made her want to hurl or at least punch them hard enough to break their noses instead of smiling politely and making small movements to put distance between them.

        Maybe that’s why the cane caught her eye. Not that a detail like that would have gotten past her anyway, just another little thing to file away under some nondescript file in her head. But it was because the cane gave her an out, a way to talk to someone that wouldn’t leer at her, wouldn’t talk to her with their eyes fixed firmly south.

        And so she closes that distance between them. Heels clacking on polished floors and arms already lifting so that she can rest her elbows on the bar once she’s hit her mark. 

Second nature is what has him reacting; hand twisting into shirt fabric and yanking back. Grip using the momentum to ensure a back that isn’t his slams against the bricks. Other fist pressed painfully into the solar plexus, ensuring a hot throb of pain that he knows from experience would linger. Non-fatal. But a message sent.

“What the FUCK is wrong with you goin’ after him???” Being who he is has it’s advantages sometimes. Particularly as the would be mugger looks almost downright fearful. “I swear to god, you’re too old to be this stupid.” He’s found stupidity at every age but the old teen doesn’t need to know that. “There are lines we don’t cross, kid, and I just saved you from takin’ a BIG fuckin’ leap across one.”

He lets go, watching the kid scramble up. “You get the fuck outta here and think about just what the hell you wanna be known for!” 

@manvvithoutfear​ asked:  “ nevermind i take it back. “

@manvvithoutfear liked for a starter based on the finale

"Matt?" Karen whispers, knees pulled to her chest as they sit in one of the vacant studio apartments up above Josie's bar. The PI had managed to bring them two small air mattresses, food, and a few other essentials until they could relocate- but truthfully a shower and a change of clothes was what she needed the most. While Matt was in the shower, it was the first time she'd gotten to think about everything that had happened in the past 12 hours, the first moment she'd had to realize where she was again...and what happened the last time she was here.

"....I keep thinking about the port...and Vanessa and...and Foggy taking the case and I just..." Eyes close as she let's out a slow breath. "...Does it make me a horrible person that there is a part of me that's angry at Foggy? None of this is his fault, but I....I just keep thinking about the fact that he'd still be here if he'd just let this go? O-Or even if he told us..." Hands run over her face and she lets out a scoff at her own selfishness.

"...I just wish he was here is all..."

@manvvithoutfear sent: ❛ there is something deeply wrong with you. ❜ (I'd like to imagine this one delivered with at least a little bit of a smile?)

Lexa slammed the rest of her whisky, which was barely an ounce but, the third she had ordered since getting to the bar. Almost everyone present was being served Guinness or harper or even Jameson. The Redbreast fifteen-year sounded tempting, but the scotswoman doubled down on her choice of Ardbeg. after signaling another round to the bartender ( who was absolutely passing a look ofJUDGMENT ) , she turned to the lawyer next to her.

"Mr. Murdock." Time is at a stand still as he waits for the lawyer. Slender hands slid deep into the pockets of his slacks. He looks relaxed, bored even as his gaze shifts around the room, however nothing could be further from the truth. Inside, in the hidden valleys, the complicated mess that was Billy Russo.. He's nervous and weary.

He didn't want to be here. But he needed to make sure that Frank's case was being handled by a firm that would be able to pull off the impossible. He wanted Castle out for his own reasons. Needed him released so he could deal with him how he saw fit. Not the state of New York. Not Rawlings.