#twcsugars

[jimmoriartys]

THE  CHINA  TURNED   by its handle,  lifted from its saucer,  to  linger  between  it  and his lips.     ❝   I’M SURPRISED   it took you so long  to  figure  it  out.  i  did  try  to  make  it  obvious.   ❞     he  brought   the    cup to his mouth, tipping it, the gentle pitch of his sipping against its side.          ❝   SHAME ABOUT   the boy, though. he was going to oxford. but to be honest, i never could stand the toff type.   ❞     //     @twcsugars.

[toldabetterstory-archived]

@twcsugars - No but it’s the final straw. You can only play the fool for him for so long before it's time for an intervention.

[earnedstripes]

twcsugars replied to your photoset: what happens when the shooting starts ? what, do...

he looks like he’s about to start singing cell block tango

is that what rlly happened in cap 3

when they were all in jail 

i thought i blocked you 

[mordantt-blog]

❛ awesome. wow. ❜

He isn't a fan of the mockery lacing the serrated words spoken, yet he still smiles, amusement absent for once in twisted crescents marring his canvas [ less Jim ].  Yet, voicing out the throes of twisted thorns caving in his mind isn't an inspiring prospect.  

   Come on, I thought you were above such a taunt.  Dutiful digits dance across the cuffs of his bespoke suit, arranging them as he considers.  He was able to cherish hissing insults to his person, but to have someone belittle what his mind formulates [ specially from him - how disappointing.  don't you despite the undue doubt and mockery? ] is -. he can't prove him wrong, for they already both know the reaches of his capabilities [ and... ]

        ' Always so responsive.  Careful, you might start to bore me."

[mordantt-blog]

❛ forgiveness. can you imagine? ❜

He raises his brows, curled grin freezing in a lapse of composure before smoothing out into something less - cutting.  It might even be genuine [ do you believe it?].  

              ‘There isn’t much to imagine, you should know, dear.“

Shouldn’t you?  Or have they [ horrid, putrid ] contaminated your mind with dulcet ideals - whispered into your naive ear?  They are words that remain unspoken - he rolls on the balls of his feet, seemingly restless, yet somehow grounded.  

                 ‘Forgiveness is,“ he halts, as if giving himself a moment to think about a suitable response, albeit already knowing what he’s going to say, ‘a pathway to buried resentment.”  He accentuates the last word for the thrilling sake of theatrics, caving into a whisper.

People [ the lot] will fall under the pretense of being above acrimony - ‘ i a m s o r r y ‘s &&. acceptance.   But he knows | he has seen it - years in the future when grey commences to bleed into their corona, all the bitterness born from muttered ‘i forgive you’s will amount to a silent b o o m.

[blogdaughter-blog]

@twcsugars

“I made a story. Want to hear it?”