⠀ ⠀〝 ⠀ you ⠀ don’t ⠀ cross ⠀ 𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗮 ⠀ 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘁 ⠀ …⠀ even ⠀ if ⠀ she ⠀ was ⠀ the ⠀ one ⠀ who ⠀ crossed ⠀ you ⠀ f͟i͟r͟s͟t. ⠀ 〞⠀——————————————
⠀𝓲， however， see ⠀* ⠀𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨. ⠀ i ⠀ s…
Joined September 2020
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xitter.cf/i/events/1359369414064…
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surely raven hasn’t grown tired of her criminal antics. after all，what would she be without them?
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》 this entire account is literally just made up of random drabbles ... scrolling thru it is satisfying but also sad because it looks like it’s just me talking to myself 😭
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who in god’s name drew her blinds?! she planned on sleeping soundly for at least five more minutes.
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her drink of the evening? bourbon on ice. she swirls the tumbler with grace，the rhythmic movement of her wrist hardly detectable. the bold sting of royal liquor lingers on her tongue，not a single drop unappreciated.
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orange bleeds across the sapphire horizon，the sun a glowing circle sliced in half by crystalline waters. she breathes in the fresh scent of saltwater，detoxified with a drawn out exhale. it’s unlike emma to stir so 𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘆.
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* 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣: katherine，you look hellacious. come，join me for a glass of bourbon. finely aged malt is sure to breathe life back into you.
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This quoted post is unavailable.
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» of krakoa. transports the nation’s goods in exchange for her seat in the quiet council. her unwavering love for teaching will be the saving grace of the next generation of mutants. though ice cold，a heart thumps beneath her rib »
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mentions of: abuse during childhood and teenage years (mental，physical，verbal)，alcohol (recreational)，swearing，violence，death，kidnapping，mental illness，blood.
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》 every month or two i log on emma and make a 2—3 tweet long drabble and then disappear . probably bc i always have 0 writing partners and interactions here
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rye whiskey，lemon，grenadine and orange juice dance upon her tongue in a delightful medley. the ward eight is a cocktail all too sophisticated to earn the appreciation of those with common taste —— in fact，the preference was (»)
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(») influenced by her father’s palate. lips painted with a glacial cobalt curve at the corners and bloom into a smile，soaking in the satisfaction of victory over escaping the tyrannical clutch of the frost family with (»)
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evening already? time has seemingly slipped through her fingers，though blissfully. it is only now that she has returned from trail riding，carefully replacing the various tack on their own designated wall mounts.
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