ooc:
Someone please send me drabble/gif set requests. I want to write things but I have no inspiration

Andulka

if i look back, i am lost
Peter Solarz

shark vs the universe

Janaina Medeiros
d e v o n
hello vonnie
Show & Tell
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
cherry valley forever
art blog(derogatory)

izzy's playlists!
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

PR's Tumblrdome
Monterey Bay Aquarium

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
dirt enthusiast

seen from Japan
seen from Malaysia

seen from Italy

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Belgium

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Indonesia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Argentina
seen from United States

seen from Italy
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from France

seen from United States
@anyastclair
ooc:
Someone please send me drabble/gif set requests. I want to write things but I have no inspiration

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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21, 56, 61, 73
21. Are you in a good mood?
Of course not, my babies are going to be three in just over a week. Nothing is good about that.Â
56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?
To be perfectly honest, I was more worried about having something that paid enough to get food, but if I must pick something I did want to be a professional ballroom dancer.Â
61. Wear a bath robe?
Depends on the day and my mood and the position of the stars and all other kinds of nonsense that make it very unpredictable.
73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?
Nope.Â
You know || OPEN
thekingcrab-sebastian:
You and me both! [chuckles]
*small chuckle* I mean I love working at the grill and being in charge and stuff but No Worries just has that special charm ya know.
You know || OPEN
Sometimes I almost miss working at No Worries.
WW II AU

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Anya WWII AU
1939: Anya was happy, all things considered. What a weird thing to be in the middle of hell, but somehow she managed. She had a job, with the war effort all hands were needed and she found herself in the factories fixing and building machines. Covered in dirt, curly red hair tied up in a messy bun, a streak of grease across her cheek like war paint, and an unlit match between her lips like a toothpick. It wasnât glamorous work, but it was work. The world was going to shit, but her little scrap of it made sense. She had a job, she had hope, and she had NateâŚuntil she didnât. The notice came in the fall, they didnât get his body back from France until the winter. He looked peaceful which was little comfort. She threw herself into work, always with the match, and now with a piece of Nateâs uniform in her pocket.
1941: Nothing was happy anymore. The city was in ruins, air raid sirens filled the air where music and laughter once reigned. Children were taken out of the city. She wasnât a child anymore, she hadnât been for a long time. Life wasnât easy, but the people were too goddamn stubborn to give up. Still she stood at the factory, the grease stain permanent, the bags under her eyes almost as dark as the grease, the match still held gently between teeth clenched in frustration, and the burned and bloodstained uniform piece pinned securely to her sleeve. She had been staying in a little place in the city with an old friend. Sam had actually come back from the front lines, albeit not in one piece. He had crutches now, and not all of his right leg, but he was still her Sam. After finishing up work one day, an officer came looking for her. He handed her a note, not unlike the one she had received two years prior. But this one was for her. Someone had told someone important that she was adept at field medicine (a by product of growing up unable to go to the doctor) and she was being sent to the front lines as a nurse. She angrily shoved the notice in her pocket and headed home. But, when she got there, and angrily showed Sam the notice expecting him to be as upset as he wasâŚhe didnât seem that surprised. She angrily confronted him until he admitted that it was by his suggestion that she go. With tears in her eyes, she packed her bag and stormed out of the house. When the air raid sirens went off she almost didnât care, but she still managed to get to shelter. As she found out later, Sam didnât. Part of her wished that she didnât care. The rest of her knew that she always would.
1943: Two years she had been in France. Stitching up wounds, cauterizing wounds, sitting with the dead and dying. The stains on her clothes were no longer grease, but blood. Countless soldiers asked about the match between her lips. To every question she gave a different story, none true and yet none completely false. She had seen many soldiers be carried through the medical tent only to be carried out again later. British, American, French, it didnât matter. If things were bad enough that you were sent to that tent, you werenât exiting again without assistance. She almost liked it more when they sent her out with the men, to treat what she could of those who actually had a hope of making it out of things in one piece. It was on one of these trips outside the tent that she first met Nando. He had fled Spain after the Civil War and took refuge in France when Germany invaded. He had joined resistance efforts and routinely met up with Allied troops that were nearby to offer them intel and assistance. The intel he came with this time, was of a barn full of Germany supplies nearby. Anya, being not overly fond of things like protocol, pleaded with the CO to let her go check it out. After all, whatâs more threatening should they be spotted, a battalion of troops, or her? Reluctantly, she was allowed to go with Nando to see the supply barn. He asked her why she had the match. She didnât answer. When they got to the barn, she peeked her head in and saw food and ammunition. Without a word, she took the match from itâs perch between her lips and struck it against the side of the barn, before dropping the flickering flame on the hay covered floor. âBecause you never know when youâll need one. An old friend taught me that.â She replied before she grabbed his hand and started running from the barn rapidly being engulfed in flames. They heard the pop of exploding ammunitions behind them but they didnât look back.
1945: The war was over, she was going to go home. Or, she was going to return to whatever was left of home. With a small sigh, she pulled her messy red hair back into a quick bun and reached into her back pocket for her matchbook, when a hand came into her field of view. But not just a hand, a hand offering a match. She gave a small noise of thanks as she placed the match between her front teeth before looking up at Nando. He had stayed with their unit after the whole barn blowing up incident. He wasnât sure where he was going after this. France wasnât his home, but he wasnât going to go back to Spain. She wasnât sure where she was going either. The place she had been living had likely been cleaned up, but she couldnât shake the image of rubble and a burned pair of crutches. He looked awkward and nervous, standing there with his hands jammed in his pockets. âSo I guess this is goodbyeâ he finally managed to get out. He felt more than saw the match head touch his lips as she stood on her tiptoes to brush a quick kiss across his cheek. âFor now.â
Fill my ask box
Iâm bored and want some inspiration to get me back into the swing of things so please fill up my ask box (i know i have a lot of old requests in there but maybe trying to find something to answer a new one will help me answer an old one). Hereâs what Iâm accepting:
Drabble requests
Gif set requests
Recast requests
If they had a kid memes
Send me a character and Iâll give you a song that I think fits them (either musical or non-musical you can pick)
Send me a song and Iâll give you a character it fits
Random questions for Anya, Freddie, or Lissy
My goal will be to answer at least one request a week. Hopefully I can keep to that and tackle some of the stuff currently in my ask box. Under the cut Iâll put a list of requests that I currently have. If you want me to answer one of those immediately send me an ask and Iâll try and see if a new urgency can persuade me to write
ooc:
Iâm still alive, just been super busy and barely had time to myself. Iâm going to definitely got online more after the new semester starts on January 17th but between now and then is pretty up in the air. But I miss you guys and I miss rping and I miss drabbling but Iâm pretty busy at the moment
audreytheprodigy:
What are you gonna do, get me off to death? Are you really sure youâve got that kind of stamina, demon?Â
Of course I wouldnât kill you like that, mutt, itâs not efficient. Iâd pin you against a wall and kiss you. And before you knew what was happening I would forcibly drain every ounce of life energy from body and you wouldnât even get a chance to fight back as you waste away with no visible trauma. You have nothing to worry about from me though because youâre part of my husbandâs collection of misfit pups.
they-call-me-matt:
Then I wouldâve had carmine colored nails, my point exactly! -sigh- But Charlie does get so upset about killing, Iâm trying to cut back.
What Charlie doesnât know wonât hurt him.

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I miss the good old days || Halloween chat
wendy-waiting:
How Iâm still alive is a Christmas miracle. Why didnât you kill me Red? You tryin to prolong the torture? Â
Because If thats the case, next time just end it quick. This isnât fun anymore.Â
Would you like me to flatter your ego or tell you the truth?
And you sure seemed like you were having fun last night.
I miss the good old days || Halloween chat
wendy-waiting:
Youâve never known how to have any fun Anya. Where is the joy in a kill if you donât make little bone souvenirs?
That wedding ring? Polished goblin tooth. You wouldnât have had that pretty little rock if I didnât like playing with my food.
No one said I donât like playing with my food, itâs just a different game. I think we both know my idea of pre-meal fun is vastly different than yours.
I miss the good old days || Halloween chat
anyastclair:
wendy-waiting:
That sounds real unfortunate Red. Shame you canât just eat âem.Â
I mean, not that I particularly enjoy it myself, but it is an option.Â
*sarcastically* Thank you, for your oh so helpful input. But unlike some people, I can at least be civilized when I eat and not use bones as toothpicks.Â
I miss the good old days || Halloween chat
When cops were stupid and you didnât have to worry about cleaning up bodies. Now itâs more effect to deal with the damn body than it is to actually kill someone.
Your turf? What is this, West Side Story?
Of course not, Iâm merely stating the facts. I let you children squabble in the playground, comparing fangs to determine who is the baddest bitch on the block with the full knowledge that I could put an end to your antics anytime I wish.

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Are you threateninâ a police officer maâam?Â
Wouldnât be the first time.
Getting the claws done and this lady tried to give me burgundy when I clearly asked for carmine, as if I wouldnât notice..
Did you rip her throat out?