#ofmorte

Tate’s mouth quirked up in a half - smile .  “ I’d love to . How about we make a pit stop in the cities and grab some coffee . I have some money that I snagged from my mom’s boyfriend’s wallet .”  He patted his pocket ; Larry wouldn’t notice and even if he did , he would probably just assume it was Constance milking him dry and then he’d never say a word . 

the duality of man @bigeyeddolly​ & @ofmorte​

"A patient got a little handsy," Eleanor answers as she examines the unfortunately noticeable tear in her blouse. Does she have a spare one in her office? She thinks so. "Frankly, it reminded me of Coop when he first started here. Except that this was certainly no nervous tic." She checks to make sure her bra hadn't been ripped as well. "Do you think it was the cleavage that drove him mad? Or do you think it's the perfume? I would do something about it if I could help the fact that I'm irresistible."

     “      IGNORE  JAMES.      he’s  more  of   a  nuisance  than  a  threat.      he  won’t  do  anything,  he  wouldn’t  risk  losing  the  very  little  contact  that  i  give  him  to  try  anything,      ”      elizabeth  suggested,  moving  to  pour  drinks  for  cordelia  and  herself,  trying  to  hide  how  irritated  james  had  made  her.      he  was  the  thorn  in  her  side  and  something  she  had  to  deal  with  if  she  wanted  to  keep  what  was  hers.      picking  the  drinks  up,  she  moved  back  towards  her,  a  smile  pulling  at  red  lips  as  she  handed  the  other  woman  her  drink,      “      don’t  let  him  spoil  our  evening.      i  assure  you  that  he  won’t  bother  you  again,      ”

“𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶.” she almost sounds like good old schoolgirl willow, all curious and fascinated. her pink tongue darts out to wet red lips, because curious has come to mean hungry more often than not. “are you dead too?”

  sassy  prompt  //  status : ACCEPTING  

       her breath hitches in her throat,  lips part as she feels the younger woman behind her and she has to grasp on to the table in front of her in the greenhouse to keep herself from reaching behind her and doing what her dreams have suggested that she finally does.  she only has so much self control and she feels it slipping across the days she’s spent around misty,  now whatever it was blossoming between felt inevitable.  ❛  is it my hair or the perfume on my neck?  ❜  freeing her hands from the table,  cordelia moves her hair to the side and gestures for misty to reevaluate what the source was.  

like her fellow ‘old-schoolers’, chrissie makes it a general principle to stay away from the newer counselors. they’re blood thirsty and power mad, and frankly it’s fucking up the status quo of this dump. montana is alright despite this -- ignoring her murderous tendencies, and obnoxious flaunting of pda. just for her, chrissie bothers to look up from her freshly-filed nails, and half engage in conversation; “what do you feel bad about? the killing thing? because that could just stop ... at any time,” deep down, there is a piece of chrissie’s soul that knows exactly what the other is talking about. she’s not going to admit it (not even over her hot dead body), and it’s easier to play dumb in the long run.