Elizabeth Barrow In Furness Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Newcastle

Met this one whore—well, in my head, alright?—called her Vixen, cos she was sly as hell. Reminded me of Knockout Ned, all charm ‘til you cross her. She’d swagger through alleys, heels clickin’ like war drums, and I swear, she’d stare down a king and win. “The sun’ll shine on us someday,” she’d mutter, like Rocket hopin’ for a break. Got me all soft for a sec—me, Loki!—cos damn, that grit’s somethin’ else. Then she’d nick your wallet and laugh, and I’d cheer her on. Mischief recognizes mischief, ya see?

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After that, I just need to unwind. I hit up a pub on Market Street. A pint of local ale is calling my name. I sit down, and the bartender’s a legend. He’s cracking jokes, and suddenly, I’m laughing again. It’s like the day’s chaos just melts away.

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