#lockvale

[bllakcat]

HOW THE MISCHIEF RADIATES, : 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 leaking of the trouble that brews within! clicks of her heel echo, THE CAT CIRCLES HIS FIGURE, much like a cat would circle the tree where the birds nest is. something so taunting about it, hard to tell whether the curl upon her lips is meant to charm, or intimidate. ( the answer is both. )  ━━━━ 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒, pleased to see that he is not so easily frightened, otherwise this would be such a bore ... @lockvale ' i  can’t  help  you. ' the angelic chuckle, how strange that it belongs to someone who is THE EMBODIMENT OF TROUBLE. ❝ that's not what i am here for. ❞ a pause, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒, ❝ you should know by now that i am the type to work alone. ❞ others would drown in the misfortune she brings along.

[vairuler]

❝  anyone can be made to talk, even a corpse. one must simply know how.  ❞

｡ﾟﾟ       𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍 - 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 , 𝐒𝐔𝐍 - 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 . 𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 ᶜᵃⁿᵈᵉˢᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵉʳᵛᵉⁿᵗ 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟 , ᵉᵃᶜʰ ˢᵃⁿᵈ’ˢ ᵍʳᵃᶦⁿ 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵖʳᵉⁿᵗ 𝚂𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙽𝚂 , ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿʸᵒⁿ ˡᶦᵐᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵍˡᵒʷᶦⁿᵍ 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐭 ˡᶦᵏᵉ ʳᵉᵈᵈᵉⁿᶦⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵗʰʳᵃᶜᶦᵗᵉ . ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶦᵗˢ ʸᵒˡᵏ , ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵗ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ᵖᵒʳᵉˢ , ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˢˢᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵃʳʸᵃᵗᶦᵈˢ & ᵗʰᵉ aridness ᵒᶠ ˡᶦⁿᵍᵘᵃ --- & ˢᵗᶦˡˡ ʰᵉ ᵉˣᶦˢᵗˢ : 𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙼 ᵃᵐᶦᵈˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶦⁿᶠᶦⁿᶦᵗᵉ ᵇᵉᶦᵍᵉ , ᵐᵃⁿᵗˡᵉᵈ ᶦⁿ ᵃᵗʳᵒᵘˢ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ a 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗿 / ʰᶦˢ ᵛᶦˢᵃᵍᵉ cadaver - blanch . ❝       ᵃˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᶦⁿᵍ ʷᶦᵗʰ the 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 , ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃᶦⁿˡʸ ᶠᵃʳ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵃᵗᶦᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ . . . certainly 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 too .       ❞

ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵖᵒᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ 𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗘𝗔 , ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵒᵘᵗˢᵗʳᵉᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ , ᵃˢᵖᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵛᵃᶜᵃⁿᵗ , 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥 . ˢʰᵉ’ˢ ᵇᵉᵗʷᶦˣᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵇʳᶦˢ , ᵉⁿˢᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ᵃ ʰᵃˡᶠ - ˢᵘᵇᵐᵉʳᵍᵉᵈ ᶜᵒˡᵒⁿⁿᵃᵈᵉ . ❝       ᶦ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ pulse --- ᵒʳ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵏᶦⁿ . see if any 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 spills out .       ❞

[wrathbit]

❛❛ i'm not scared of the dark. there's just always somethin' in there waiting to trip me up. ❜❜ 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕. not the vigilante, who would be a preferable beast. ❛❛ what'a they call you again ? @lockvale ? ❜❜

[youfought]

❝ I can't find the root of the bleed. ❞ @lockvale

"then take off your coat. and your shirt."

your words are nonchalant, lowering the crossbow from your right shoulder. you still have trouble understanding how his ability to numb pain works - you deduce it must be that which makes him unable to pinpoint where the bleeding soaking part of his body is coming from- thus, you resort to the most practical way of finding out.

you both conceal yourselves within the shadows of an alleyway leading to darkness, and the night is chilly, and as you place your weapons against a wall of the narrow corridor, you glance up at the man standing still, pale as a ghost; his phantom-like appearence still makes you feel uneasy.

"c'mon, we can't go around wasting time. have you gone shy on me?" sardonic remark is spoken as you place both hands on your hips, "you could be bleeding to death and you won't even fucking know!" you sound more and more exasperated, a heavy contrast to his stone-cold gaze, "do it. now. or i'll do it for you."

[aftermoved]

— 「 RE: @lockvale .

DANSE MACABRE LAYS IN HER lap, the familiar weight of the blade comforting to her in a way she cannot explain. She'd been favoring it, lately. Preferring the large contraption over Penalty and Rage... though Discipline still sat HEAVY at her side like a reminder. Of what she can do, of what she has done, of what WILL be laid out by her hands.

Tomas had sent her away tonight, in another one of his outbursts that had most of his followers COWERING. She'd stood up to him as usual, all sharp glares and lashing words, but now there is a softness to Zahirith. A quietude. That ache in her chest of something just out of reach in the form of her brother, lost in the city down below, finding perch once more.

Too much, in too little time.

Footsteps, finally, behind her. They are FAMILIAR in their gate, even though it's only been a few times that she's heard them. So much so that the white-haired woman doesn't even turn her head to look at him. Just studies the stars above their heads, the building's drop SO FAR down below. She wonders what it would feel like to jump — of weightlessness. There is clear distaste in her tone when she speaks.

❝ You're late. Did you get lost? ❞

[redemn]

❝        hey  ,      ‘eah  …        ❞        a  sigh  .        ❝        thanks  for  runnin’  those  guys  off  my  tail  for  me  .      got  a  feelin’  they  weren’t  gonna  let  up  if  they  didn’t  have  some  reason  to  …  or  made  to  .        ❞        his  gaze  settles  on  victor  .      the  paleness  of  his  skin  really  doesn't  give  any  indication  that  he's  out  in  the  sun  much  ,      yet  there's  still  something  compelling  of  thanks  ,      even  from  someone  like  arthur  .      not  anyone  he  would  peg  as  formidable  ,      by  any  means  ,      but  one  who  could  clearly  persuade  nonetheless  .

after  a  moment  of  contemplation  ,      and  against  his  better  judgement  ,      he  continues  .        ❝        seems  like  every  time  you  think  y’got  them  off  your  back  ,      then  more  of  ‘em  come  by  .        ❞

@lockvale  .      ❝  i  don’t  need  thanks  .      i  didn’t  do  it  for  you  .  ❞

there’s  a  hint  of  frustration  in  the  way  arthur’s  clicks  his  tongue  and  fidgets  once  ,      as  if  he’s  trying  to  keep  an  angry  ,      antagonistic  word  from  getting  out  before  he  regrets  it  .        ❝        in  that  case  ,        ❞        he  says  ,      after  such  a  long  pause  he’s  sure  the  time  for  response  has  already  expired  ,        ❝        i’ll  take  back  my  thanks  .      i’m  sure  you  got  your  reasons  ,      and  ,      really  ,      i’m  glad  i  ain’t  someone  you’re  doin’  things  for  .      you’d  probably  mess  it  up  anyway  .        ❞

╰ ゜TLOZ : TP STARTERS.  /  𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[tartt9]

More often than one might expect, it's relatively easy to find Jamie. It's rare for him to wake up, go to training, and go home with nothing else to occupy his day. Spending time in public is practically a necessity for his wellbeing at this point; he's a social man, even if that only means having a kickabout in a park instead of in his back garden. It's that that leads to this – a poorly timed cross [ he never claimed to be perfect, his left foot still needs work ] driven directly into the path of a stranger. He hisses, fists coming up clenched in front of his mouth, a grimace on his face. "Sorry about that-!" he calls once he's regained the ability to speak, jogging over to retrieve the ball. "I'm typically better'n that, my bad."

@lockvale [ sc ! ]

[buddlebubs]

Monty Lockvale

Monty was founded by a gang in his youth during his time in an orphanage. a gang that eventually grew into piracy. His entire life has been nothing but thieving about as the big lug of the crew. Being the intimation and blunt force of the murders held accountable. His presence sparked fear amongst the crowds and often times ended up with someone dead before they would depart the towns.

A woman managed to change his heart however, and though he lived a life of crime he yearned to be with her. He began to change, becoming softer, kinder. And even gave her a ring after sometime visiting the port. This love eventually caused her demise as the captain caught on to his secret. The Captain killed her in fear that she may give him a reason to leave his crew. And tried to lie to him about who killed her. Once he found out, Of course Monty did not take it lightly, and in an act of vile rage he slaughtered his whole crew.

It was weeks later when Captain Harrlow found him. In a back alley of a bar, a bottle of rum in his hand, and a gun on the ground.

Captain Harrlow said nothing to the broken man as he laid there too scared to pull the trigger. He only extended his hand to Monty. Monty saw this gesture of kindness and he broke down in a fit of tears and screams. Spouting a drunken state of his turmoil. He could only think of her, and how kind and sweet she was to him.

Harrlow just listened as he slowly took the bottle of rum out of his hand, and throwing the gun away, he took one final look at Monty. He saw something in Harrlows gaze, and could not find anymore words to say. After a minute of silence between the two. Harrlow finally sighed turned to walk back to the street, thinking he was too far gone to be helped. However for reasons unknown to Harrlow, the large ruffian followed him.

This strange encounter prompted Monty to join him, he did not know Harrlow was a pirate, but at this point…he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be left alone in the darkness. Holding the ring of his love around his neck, he took the chance to go. Thinking of the look the older man gave him, he saw himself.

He has been appointed the role of boatswain. And he and the Captain have become very close. Seeing Harrlow as something of a mentor.

[bllakcat]

WHAT’S YOUR UNDERLYING MOTIF ?

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐑𝐎𝐃. whether it’s your turbulent nature,   your flash quick mind,    or the air of unknown about you, your undercurrent is the lightning rod. you are somewhat  unpredictable,    but if we unravelled,    we’d see you know exactly what you’re doing,   but it’s makes you feel less vulnerable  to pretend it wasn’t planned.      some people stay back from you,    but others would follow you cross country,     for the very same reason. they don’t know enough about you.     the difference is in who wants to learn more.     keep your golden nature,    it’s exciting,    but don’t be afraid to admit what you know.     matshona dhliwayo said     “ lightning strikes but does not roar ”     your bite will always be worse than your bark,   keep that close to your chest.

tagged by. stole it >: ) tagging. @ofsoul , @redemn , @lockvale , @warbyrds , @gunbash , @denouemente ( a character of your choosing! ) @l1sten , @arachling , @quinfamy , @fortrauma , @fightwing , @unheavenly ( a character of your choosing! ) @shoukous

[vairuler]

❝  facts interest me. not fairytales.  ❞

｡ﾟﾟ       𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐃𝐘𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀 / 𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐔𝐌 . 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐎𝐍 ᵃ ᵖᵉᵗᵘⁿᶦᵃ - ˢᵖᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉᵃᵈᵒʷ’ˢ ᵛᵉʳᵈᵃⁿᶜʸ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁 ˢᵖᶦᵏᵉˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒 ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉᵉᶜʰ ˡᶦᵐᵇˢ / ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ 𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗱 ˢᶜᵃˡᵉˢ . ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵘˢˢᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵇᵉᶦⁿᵍ ʳᶦᵖᵖˡᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʷᶦⁿⁿᵒʷˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᶦⁿᵈ , ᵍᵃʳᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰᵉˢˡᶦⁿᵉ ghosting ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵉᶻᵉ . ❝       ʸᵉᵗ fairytales ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᵈᵉʳᶦᵛᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 , ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ?       ❞ ᵗʳᵉᵉᵗᵒᵖˢ ᶜˡᵒᵗᵗᵉᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵃˡᵇᵉˢᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵇˡᵒˢˢᵒᵐˢ , ᵖᵉᵗᵃˡˢ ᶠˡᶦᵗᵗᶦⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇʳᵃⁿᶜʰˡᵉᵗˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ 𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕤𝕟𝕠𝕨 , ᵃˡᵖᵉⁿᵍˡᵒʷ ˡᶦᵐⁿᶦⁿᵍ ᵈᶦˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵘᵐᵐᶦᵗˢ ᵃ ᵛᶦᵛᶦᵈ 𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 : * ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ , ᶦᵗˢᵉˡᶠ , 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙰𝚂𝚈 .

ᵃⁿ ᵒʳᵃᶜᵘˡᵃʳ ˢᵐᶦˡᵉ 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘴 ᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᶦᵍᵐᵃᵗᶦᶜ ᵍᵃᶻᵉ sears . ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ , ᵃᵘʳᵉᵃᵗᵉ - ᶦʳᶦˢᵉᵈ & ᶦᶜʰᵒʳ - ᵛᵉᶦⁿᵉᵈ , ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᶦⁿᵍ ᶦˢ ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳʷᵒᵛᵉⁿ ʷᶦᵗʰ 𝐟𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 & 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᶦⁿ ˢᵒᶠᵗ & ᵗʳᵉᵖᶦᵈ ᵗᵒⁿᵍᵘᵉˢ . [ ˢᶜᶦᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʳᵃᵍⁿᵃʳᵒᵏ . ʰᵃʳᵇᶦⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵃʳᵐᵃᵍᵉᵈᵈᵒⁿ . 𝙳𝙴𝙼𝙾𝙽 𝙳𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁 . ] ❝       ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵘᵇᵇᵒʳⁿˡʸ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉˡᶦᵉᵛᵉ , ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᵐᵃᵍᶦᶜ , ᶦˢ ˢᶦᵐᵖˡʸ 𝘀𝗰𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 you do 𝚗𝚘𝚝 yet understand .       ❞

[hexsreality]

@lockvale ♡ for a one-liner!

"Mr. Vale, your reputation precedes you, how may I be of service?" 

[wrathbit]

❝ oh, i’m no innocent. but evil? you tell me. ❞

❛❛ 𝙊𝙃, 𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏'𝙎 𝘼 𝙇𝙊𝘼𝘿𝙀𝘿 𝙌𝙐𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉. couldn't ask for somethin' simple, could'ya ? contrary to belief, i can't sense evil. just intent. trust me, if i could sense evil i'd have a much happier life. ❜❜ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚗, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍. the definition shifted depending on the individual. there were plenty who stained a so-called innocence for the aid of others. ❛❛ i'll have to figure you out the old fashioned way. by gettin' to know you. i will warn you, i'll be very cross if you do stab me in the back. i might even cry. ❜❜

[youfought]

❛ we aren’t equals & we aren’t friends. ❜ @lockvale

"what makes you think i wanna be friends with you?"

nose scrunched, you raise an eyebrow in sardonic inquisitiveness. you can sense he isn't particularly fond of you tagging along,and while you don't really give two fucks about his opinions of you, you still know better than to be bold and reckless around such a dangerous individual.

nesta once tried teaching you how to play chess when you were thirteen. it's a game of wits, not of brute strength, she'd say, and while you grew bored out of your mind trying to learn, now you can kind of acknowledge that it was useful in the end. watch as brains beat brawn.

"of course we're not equals. you could kill me in a hundred different ways if you wanted, and i could shoot an arrow through your eye, but we're not the same. though if you ask me, you should consider keeping up this weird partnership we got going on," you shrug, fold your arms over your chest, "neither of us do the 'allies' thing, so this is as much a pain for you as it is for me. don't worry, i don't really enjoy hanging around you. you're still pretty fucking despicable to me."

[vairuler]

｡ﾟﾟ       𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐒 & 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 / ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉˡᵏᶦⁿ ᵃ 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗲 ᵗᶦⁿᵍᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 . ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵉˡˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵍᵘⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ 𝙳𝙴𝙸𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚂 , ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵉʳʳᵃᶦⁿ ˢᵗᵃᶦⁿᵉᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ’ˢ ᶦᶜʰᵒʳ ᵃ saturated ochre . ʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵃⁿ 𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗧 ᶦⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉᵖᶦᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒᵍʳᵃᵖʰ / ᵃ ᵍˡᶦᵗᶜʰ ᵒᶠ 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕠𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕖 ᵃᵐᶦᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵘᵛᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵛᵃˢ . ❝       ---- continuously ᵈᵉⁿʸᶦⁿᵍ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 ʷᶦˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃⁿʸ 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 , ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ .       ❞

ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵖᵃˡᵐ ᵃ ᵐᵃᵍᶦᶜᵃˡ 𝙼𝙰𝙴𝙻𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙼 ᵒᶠ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ˢᵖᶦⁿ ᵃ 𝗯𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗼 , ʷʳᶦᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵈᶦᵍᶦᵗˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ saffron vines , ᵉⁿˡᵃᶜᶦⁿᵍ ˢᵏᶦⁿ ᶦⁿ ᵃ 𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 ᵒᶠ ᵃᵐᵇᵉʳˢ & ʳᵒˢᵉ - ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᶜʳᶦᵐˢᵒⁿˢ . ❝       ʰᵒʷ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃˡᶦᶻᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗯𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ A FOOL ?       ❞

[vairuler]

Happy birthday 2 Gallie !!!!!

bless u !!!! thank u !!!! :' (( you may now potentially be spared when g/anon takes over the world ♡ she'll put in a good word for u !!