#hatshaw

[ofcoldguns]

Send me a ♗ and I’ll use my icon style to make an icon of your muse @hatshaw asked: ♗!

[avocadefense-a]

“i can’t see where you’re coming from, but i know just what you’re running from.”

@hatshaw // liked for a lyric starter!

[aintnonebetter]

[ sc. ]      *  @hatshaw​​

‘  ya  sure  y'  wanna  go  in  there ,   luv  ?   mighty  crude  place  for  a  pretty  thing  like  you.  ’        or maybe it’s just because he’s become a rather   unwelcome guest   at this less than fine establishment     [   for cheating his way through cardgames one too many times   ]     that he’s now so keen on   scaring away   any new potential customers.   though really . . .   she doesn’t quite make the impression of someone who’d   enjoy   a bar this sleazy.        ‘     ya  lookin’  for  someone  ?  ’

[hawkreincarnated]

@hatshaw | Lyrical Starter Call | Old Fashioned - Panic! At the Disco

“So pour out some liquor, make it an old-fashioned.”

[kingsmanne]

@hatshaw liked.

She had never been a fan of those jazz lounges, they were too loud and too quiet at the same time, anyone could listen in and the surroundings were too open and dark. She hated those open spaces when she had to move in them, and being so high up with a stunning view of the city also meant that an escape through the window was limited. She could make out two possible paths, and that already made her uncomfortable. Not that she looked like it; hands ever so casually in the pockets of the suit, walking with confidence towards the bar while she let the glasses do the identification. 

She had agreed to make contact with the agent here, so there was little choice now and they couldn’t relay it. Especially when they weren’t sure who to trust; the old spy waltz, that was nothing but a game of chicken with higher stakes. Good thing chickens could run around without their heads, but Anne wasn’t letting it come to that tonight. She had her orders, and one of them was going nice and easy. 

“Miss, I hope you don’t mind me sitting here; you looked quite lonely.” Fucking sleazy, she knew. At the same time, she slid over her business card of the tailor shop; that was telling enough. She grinned briefly when she heard the handler’s comment.

[hargrump-a]

𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒘 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝:     ❛   𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔?   ❜   /   ✦

𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇,  𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓.  it was late,  &  she looked a bit lonely.  he wondered if she was waiting for a date     (  probably with a mob boss  —  no way a person comes in,  ordering a wine glass for herself,  asking specifically for a table for two with a seat overlooking the city  )     she’d noticed diego observing her from afar,  &  he gradually got closer  &  closer.  he’d pose as a waiter,  unfortunately not having enough clothes to rent something fancy enough to disguise as a guest.  but this will do.  come on diego,  think!

                     ❝   just wondering if you’d like a refill on any refreshments.   ❞

[ciaosucker-moved]

“ just because you’re clean don’t mean you don’t miss it. ”

@hatshaw   &   (  x  )

[remembersher]

he recognizes hiding. one could claim he’s hiding here, in this stranded town. from his past. from himself. who knows. he can also recognize a soldier. someone who’s on a mission. so maybe she’s passing through. maybe she just got done. whatever it is, it’s probably not his business. yet ... if something were to come to his town, well ... maybe it would be then. ❛ ... uh, hey. ❜ it’s soft. he’s not trying to alarm her, or anything, but - ❛ your side’s ... uh, bleeding. ❜

( @hatshaw ! )