november 𝒹aisies.
@ohguilt
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wha𝓉⠀⠀⠀is⠀⠀⠀it,⠀⠀⠀to⠀⠀⠀b𝑒⠀⠀⠀a⠀⠀⠀h𝗲ro⠀⠀?⠀⠀https://t.co/2aMTViMCM2⠀⠀⠀in⠀⠀⠀⠀the⠀⠀⠀⠀m┈irror,⠀⠀⠀⠀and⠀⠀⠀⠀you'll⠀⠀⠀⠀kno𝑤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀…͟⠀⠀⠀⠀
product ⠀of⠀ #beretta
Joined November 2021
ᅠ⠀⠀ ᅠ⠀⠀ JAMES WESLEY ᅠ⠀⠀
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with great power comes great need to take a nap. wake me up later.
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───── @ohguilt .
can i waste all your time here on this sidewalk? can i stand in your light for just a little while?
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how it feels to get home drunk at 3:30 in the morning
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⠀⠀let's...⠀⠀try⠀⠀that⠀⠀again.
because i want to be the change that you've always wanted... 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.
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[ &. ] ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ i ⠀ ⠀ HEAR ⠀ ⠀ god's ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ : ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ WHISPER ⠀ ⠀ .̳.
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foggy. ⠀ c'mon. ⠀ i can get you another sandwich. ⠀ i can even get you one of those fancy pastrami sourdoughs from down the street.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀this is a conflict of interest, you need to find another lawyer ......
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i am exercising my fifth amendment right to remain silent, ⠀ and demand my phone call.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀KENNY.
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how sure are you it was frank… ⠀ it could have been anybody really hungry enough who may or may not have misread the label… ⠀ allegedly, ⠀ of course.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀frank castle if you're reading this: i'm going to fucking hunt you down for eating that sandwich i left in the fridge at the office that was clearly labeled WITH MY NAME
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cue: ⠀ hum, ⠀ does as told. ⠀ fixes her with a quirk of brow, ⠀ "saying please wouldn't kill you."
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𖣠̼⠀ ͟ ֵ⠀ ⠀ ᴬ ⠀ 𝐋𝙸𝗙𝙴 �� ̷ ⠀ ݁ ⠀ ͟..⠀ ⠀ 𝘢𝘴 ⠀ ៹ ⠀⠀A ⠀⠀⠀ .. ༼ ⠀ ﹙⠀ 𝚆.𝔈𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙽 ⠀﹚ ⠀ #̲ જ⁀➴ ⠀ ⠀⠀* ❚ ⠀⠀﹕⠀ ℌ𝙴𝚁𝙾.
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cafe closes for mass. ⠀ his hands envelop the paper, ⠀ letting the warmth seep through bare skin. ⠀ "thank you," ⠀ are his first words, ⠀ for manners maketh man.⠀ eyes stray over the scenery as he takes his first sip, ⠀ smile stretching across the lid. ⠀his breath steams,
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he might argue what a compelling shot his view would make: ⠀ new york's skyline in the horizon, ⠀ the stark snow in the foreground. ⠀ but with no such luck, ⠀ he approaches, ⠀ smile cutting through the frigid winds, ⠀ quickly delighted at having forgotten mrs alana's
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the pier is near empty so early on a sunday, ⠀ the light catches on the water, ⠀ glittering like thousands of shards of glass. ⠀ kenny pauses a moment to examine the figure, ⠀ still a distance away. ⠀ if he had the eye for art,
even in the biting cold of december, by the waterfront it looms, standing still and cold as a corpse. clad in black, long leather coat and hood pulled over head, silhouette of the reaper. yet instead of a blade, hands hold coffee — two, from the cheap excuse of a shop down the
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