Which is better 1 or 2 🔥😜
Angie Varona
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A⃨l⃨g⃨u⃨m⃨a⃨s⃨ r⃨e⃨c⃨o⃨m⃨e⃨n⃨d⃨a⃨ç⃨õ⃨e⃨s⃨ d⃨e⃨ b⃨i⃨o⃨ p⃨r⃨a⃨ v⃨c⃨s⃨❤️⃨🇧🇷⃨
:¨·.·¨:
`·. ⪼ 𝔉𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔞˚✶ ⋆
﹒ ℭ𝔲𝔦𝔞𝔟𝔞́/𝔐𝔗
﹒ 𝟏𝟓/𝟎𝟑
﹒ 🌊 ੈ₊˚༅༴{🧿}⿻‧₊꒰‧⁺◌༘🪡₊﹆
꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
🥀⪼ 𝔉𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔞 𝐕𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔦˚✶ ⋆
﹒ ℭ𝔲𝔦𝔞𝔟𝔞́/𝔐𝔗
﹒~🍣 ੈ₊˚༅༴{🍓}⿻‧₊꒰‧⁺◌༘🍄₊﹆
❝𝘓𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘰 𝘦𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘶❞~𝙵𝚒 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚘
ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏︔︉ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪﹒[ 𝔉𝔢𝔯 ]
❱❱︔︉☕﹒[ ] ﹐▦
ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ ʚ ĭ ɞ . ゚。 ₍ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ₎ 。゚.
~🍣 ੈ₊˚༅༴{🍓}⿻‧₊꒰‧⁺◌༘🍄₊﹆
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A Game of Thrones, Jon III
Inside, Jon hung sword and scabbard from a hook in the stone wall, ignoring the others around him.
Methodically, he began to strip off his mail, leather, and sweat-soaked woolens.
Chunks of coal burned in iron braziers at either end of the long room, but Jon found himself shivering.
The chill was always with him here. In a few years he would forget what it felt like to be warm.
The weariness came on him suddenly, as he donned the roughspun blacks that were their everyday wear.
He sat on a bench, his fingers fumbling with the fastenings on his cloak.
So cold, he thought, remembering the warm halls of Winterfell, where the hot waters ran through the walls like blood through a man’s body.
There was scant warmth to be found in Castle Black; the walls were cold here, and the people colder.
No one had told him the Night’s Watch would be like this; no one except Tyrion Lannister. The dwarf had given him the truth on the road north, but by then it had been too late.
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Got lots of new looks today
Come for yours
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Theologically inexact explanations of osculation
Theologically inexact explanations of osculation
To be fair to Maljie, it had been a hard day. It wasn’t that she was hewing wood and digging ditches, but still, just being nice to people can be hard work at times.
It started with a craft fair. The Shrine of Aea in Her Aspect as the Personification of Tempered Enthusiasm runs a couple of them during the year. It does three important things. One is that we hope it will bring a bit of money into…
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A Game of Thrones, Jon III
Jon stared sullenly at the smoke rising from the brazier, until Noye took him under the chin, thick fingers twisting his head around. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy.”
Jon looked. The armorer had a chest like a keg of ale and a gut to match. His nose was flat and broad, and he always seemed in need of a shave. The left sleeve of his black wool tunic was fastened at the shoulder with a silver pin in the shape of a longsword.
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