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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Crown Seating Chart
(or Why I Love Roger's Thighs)
I still haven't played much of the game, so this is just a personal theory:
Will and Victor sit in the topmost corner sofa. Why? Firstly, it's the fanciest sofa, the "crowning" feature of the room, and its placement seems to allow for comfortable voice projection out into the rest of the room. Second, this image is composed so that the eye follows the diagonal axis that extends from the bottom left to the top right. It makes sense for these two men to sit on this important visual axis.
Liam and Harrison sit on the sofa to the right of the screen. This puts Liam in close proximity to Will so he can get free head scratches if he leans over a lot. Like a lot. Harrison sits with his arm draped over the backrest as he gazes out the window.
Team Snow White sits on the sofa in the top left. Elbie sits in the middle as both the queen and wall between Roger and Al. Al sits closest to the wall because you hang mirrors on the wall. I'm saying that with a straight face while my sides split from laughter.
This leaves Team Sleeping Beauty to occupy the sofa closest to the player and presumably closest to the exit, the latter point being crucial to the seating decisions of a certain businessman. Ellis sits in close proximity to Roger so they can play rock-paper-scissors. That leaves Jude to sit nearest to the player, reading his newspaper. His cologne would be closest to the player as well.
If I may make a distinction for Kate as an entity somewhat different from the player (for the purposes of this theory), she probably sits on the sofa of the person whose route we're in. In the case of Team Snow White, yes, it'll be a snug fit, but I think two scenarios are possible: either Roger would sit on his armrest or Kate would sit on the lap of any of those three. When she's cramping she lays across all three laps and mumbles incoherently into Roger's mighty doctor-ly thighs as he pops midol between her lips. Roger Barel, what a Chad. If she lays the other way with her head on Al's lap, Al alters her perception to make her think she's resting on Roger's mighty doctor-ly thighs.
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i rounded up a bunch of tumblr translations for all the non-yaycupcake stories i could find, currently just events and main story cus theres 1 actual million cards and mini chats and etc
if any links are broken lmk, also y'all should only be able to view and comment so lmk if its letting you edit cus that would be non epic
Hey shawties I’m gonna try my best to make a masterlist of all the translations i can find that aren’t on the yaycupcake (shoutout yaycupcak
This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting
Emma: Could you close your eyes for a moment?
Silvio: Ya really think I’d fall for such a classic trap?
(Bet she’s gonna hug me and call it a present… or is it a kiss?)
I could practically see where this was headed, and mentally went on high alert.
Emma: What do you mean “trap”... please, just trust me.
Silvio: Put a hand on yer chest and think about it. How many damn times have ya tricked me already?
Emma: … So is that a no?
Silvio: …
Silvio: … Tch.
(Damn it all… I’m playin’ right into this woman’s hands again.)
Despite being fully aware of what could happen, I let out a resigned sigh and closed my eyes.
Emma: Fufu… alright, here I come.
(I knew it’d be this kinda thing.)
I braced myself to remain completely unfazed, regardless what sort of “attack” she launched on me.
I heard footsteps crunching on the sand as Emma approached— and something light was placed on my lap.
Emma: Alright, you can open your eyes now.
I opened my eyes and looked down to see a neatly folded handkerchief embroidered with little seashells.
It was clearly made by Emma herself.
(She always pulls this kinda stuff when I’m bein’ suspicious of her…)
Silvio: Ya did a good job on this.
When I took her hand and looked up, her soft lips brushed against my cheek.
The summer heat surged through my body like a tidal wave the second I processed what just happened.
Silvio: Y-Ya little… ya actually did it.
Emma: I wasn't planning to be cheeky, but you were being so overly guarded, I couldn't help myself.
Silvio: I wasn’t guarded.
Emma: Wahh!?
(I totally let my guard down.)
Busy flashing me that triumphant grin, Emma barely had time to react before I grabbed her head and messed with her hair.
But then I remembered I still had the handkerchief in my other hand and eased up so I wouldn't crumple it.
(Almost wrecked the thing.)
Emma seemed to notice the way I softened my grip and her expression grew tender.
Emma: Do you like it?
Silvio: This? Yeah.
Emma: The kiss was the main gift.
Silvio: … Ya havin’ fun messin’ with me, ain’t ya?
Emma: Not at all. It’s just… it makes me really happy to know you were thinking about me today too.
Silvio: Just so ya know, yer face’s bright red too.
Emma: …! You noticed…
(This woman’s got me completely off balance… why the hell am I feelin’ all lighthearted too?)
Even though it ticked me off and my brows remained furrowed for a moment…
The sound of her laughter mixed with the crashing waves loosened my guard a little too much, and before I knew it, a genuine laugh slipped from my lips too.
…
Emma: Mmm, today’s the perfect day for a picnic!
The heat and humidity of summer was over, and now the gentle autumn breeze made the air refreshingly cool.
Even as we walked through the forest of red trees preparing themselves for winter, my head was full of question marks.
Silvio: If it’s a picnic ya want, there’s plenty of better spots in Benitoite for it.
Silvio: Why’d we have to hike through a forest with ground rough enough to trip up half the women in the kingdom…?
Emma: Because this feels more like a real adventure.
(Knew it. She’s still high off those damn adventure stories.)
The most popular adventure story in Benitoite was the Voyages of The Continent’s Biggest Tycoon, a fictional memoir written based on a real person and heavily dramatized by the author.
There was no doubt Emma had read one of the embellished parts — the one where the tycoon landed on an island and trekked through the wilderness, and she was now trying to recreate that experience.
(But… is that really all?)
(Doesn’t feel like the kinda thing she’d go outta her way to keep secret.)
Emma: Oh! Master!
Silvio: I said I ain’t yer master. What now?
Emma: I spotted a cave over there.
Silvio: Don’t even thinking ‘bout it. We ain’t geared up for explorin’ caves.
Emma: I know. But the first rule of setting up camp is to find a spot that shields you from the elements, so…
She turned to face me with a smile brighter than the sunlight spilling through the trees.
Emma: Just watch.
…
As soon as we stepped into the cave, Emma started setting up a simple campsite.
She was surprisingly confident, there was no fumbling or hesitation in her movements. Although there was still a little bit of roughness in her execution, she clearly knew what she was doing.
(... She’s actually usin’ what she learned from that summer cookout.)
Only the campsite was fully set up, Emma pulled a book out of the bag she had slung over her shoulder.
Emma: I want to try cooking a wild vegetable soup today.
Silvio: Ya seriously brought a guidebook to mountain greens with ya?
(I was thinkin’ her bag looked heavy…)
Despite my offers to carry it instead, Emma stubbornly held onto her bag the whole way.
Turns out it contained more than just that book; it had gloves, shears, all sorts of equipment for gathering wild plants.
Emma: I’ve been wanting to try it at least once ever since autumn.
Emma: I did feel bad for asking you to come along, but…
Emma: I figured you’d be mad if I’d gone alone.
Silvio: Ya ain’t wrong ‘bout that. I’ll give ya credit.
Emma’s lips curled into a proud smile when I placed a hand on her head.
Silvio: I don’t hate stuff like this, so quit worryin’ ‘bout me.
Silvio: But…
(‘Bout time I asked her.)
Just as Emma looked like she was ready to dash out of the cave in search of ingredients, I grabbed her and pulled her toward me—
“You ride like you’re trying to kill me,” Mydei muttered, voice strained, chest rising and falling hard under you.
You just smirked, hands planted firmly on his abs as you bounced on his cock, again and again, letting him hit deep. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
He scoffed, but the way his fingers dug into the sheets said otherwise. His cock was thick, hot, and twitching inside you—stretching you open with every drop of your weight, hitting so deep it left a bulge in your stomach. You pressed your hand over it, and he twitched.
“Fuck,” he hissed, jaw tight. “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” you teased, grinding down just to make him feel it all over again. “You’re obsessed with how tight I am around you. Look at this bulge, Mydei. That’s you.”
He groaned, low and frustrated, golden eyes narrowing. “I could flip you right now and fuck that smug out of you.”
“Then do it,” you challenged, rolling your hips harder. “But you won’t. Because you like being underneath me. You like getting used.”
He growled, actually growled, hands flexing like he was a second away from grabbing your hips and taking over—but he didn’t. His thighs twitched under you, and his cock throbbed harder.
You leaned down, teeth sinking into the curve of his shoulder. Not soft, not gentle—a real bite. He grunted, hips jerking up into you so rough it knocked the breath out of your lungs.
“That all you got?” he muttered, but it was breathless now, his forehead damp with sweat. “If you’re gonna ride me, ride me.”
You did.
Hard. Fast. Relentless. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice, soaking and messy, his cock disappearing into you again and again with the filthiest sounds. That bulge kept rising, kept pressing out with every slam of your hips, and he couldn’t look away from it now, couldn’t stop twitching inside you.
You were close. You knew he was too.
“You gonna cum inside me, baby?” you asked, voice a little rough now. “Gonna fill me up and make sure it sticks?”
He snarled, hands finally grabbing your waist like he had to. “I’m not pulling out.”
“Good.”
You clenched down around him, grinding down in tight circles that made him swear through his teeth, golden eyes fluttering shut. His grip tightened. His cock throbbed harder, faster—
And then he was spilling inside you. Hot, deep, thick. You felt every pulse of it, your pussy fluttering as you came with him, hips still rocking as he held you down, like if he didn’t you’d ride the soul out of him.
You stayed like that for a moment. His cock still buried in your soaking, stretched pussy, your stomach still showing that curve from how deep he was. And you could feel the warmth dripping out, slowly, messy.
“…You’re a menace,” he muttered finally, voice hoarse.
You smirked. “And you’re full of me.”
His eyes met yours—sharp, a little dazed—and he huffed a laugh.
“Yeah,” he said. “Guess I am.”
You stayed on him, still pulsing, still throbbing—his cock buried to the base inside your cum-filled cunt. It twitched again, thick and hot, still hard even after he’d just filled you. His hands were loose on your waist now, like he didn’t know whether to pull you closer or give up and let you use him until he couldn’t move.
You rolled your hips again—slow, cruel, just enough to feel the stretch—and watched his head fall back, jaw clenched.
“…You done?” he muttered, voice rough and low.
You smiled. “No.”
He exhaled hard through his nose. “Of course not.”
You rocked again, this time lifting your hips just an inch before slamming back down. The lewd squelch of his cum spilling out of you was obscene. He twitched hard under you, biting back a sound in his throat.
“Still so deep,” you murmured, dragging your fingers down the curve of your own belly, tracing the soft bulge that reappeared with every grind of your hips. “You feel that? Right there.”
His eyes flicked down. Locked on the spot. You saw the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. His cock twitched again.
“You’re fucking filthy,” he muttered, but it came out breathy. Weak. Like he was losing the fight, and fast.
“And you’re the one who came in me.”
You started riding him again, slow and deep, the mess of it dripping down your thighs as your pussy squeezed around him with every thrust. His cum was still leaking out of you, even as you forced it back in again and again.
“You just came,” you said softly. “And you’re already hard again. That’s how bad you want it, huh?”
He gritted his teeth, digging his fingers into your hips again. “You think I care about your stupid little games?”
“I think you want me to ride you until it takes.”
You fucked yourself down on him harder, letting your weight slam onto his cock with a loud, wet slap. Your breath caught—he hit deep, right up against that aching sweet spot—and you knew he felt how tight your pussy clenched around him after that.
“I think you want it to knock you up,” you whispered, leaning close to his ear. “I think you want my pussy full until your cum sticks. Again. And again. And again.”
His hips jerked under you before he could stop them. His breath hitched.
“Fuck you,” he muttered, voice low and dangerous.
You licked the edge of his ear. “You already are.”
He growled, hands flying to your waist again—tight, firm now, nails digging in, but not to stop you. He just held you there, let you use him, let you fuck him like he was yours and nothing else.
“You’re not walking after this,” he muttered.
You just laughed. “Then don’t stop me.”
And he didn’t. He took it. Every bounce, every drag of your pussy down his thick cock, every time you clenched and made a filthy mess all over him. The bulge in your belly rose and fell, rose and fell, getting tighter and fuller with every second, and you felt him start to lose it again.
His body got hot under you. Thighs twitching. Breathing ragged. His grip on your hips went stiff and shaking.
“Don’t,” you said, moaning softly. “You’re not pulling out. I want all of it.”
“Fuck—”
“I want your cum inside me again. You’re not done until I say it’s done.”
He twitched inside you. So close.
You slammed down again and this time didn’t lift back up—just ground your pussy against him in tight, perfect circles, dragging your walls along every inch of that fat cock, milking him from the inside out.
He broke.
He came with a stifled groan, arms locking around you as he emptied himself inside, cock pulsing hard as he filled you again. Thick, hot, relentless. You felt it push up into you, flooding you a second time, and this time it was too much—it leaked past your pussy lips, down his cock, soaking the sheets under you both.
Your body shook as you came right after, grinding down into his lap like you could squeeze every drop out of him. Your pussy fluttered around him, overstimulated and stretched, full of cum and still clenching like you didn’t want to let him go.
And he didn’t try to move. Didn’t say a word.
He just laid there, panting, arms loose around your waist as he throbbed inside you, twitching with the last few pathetic pulses of his cock, still buried deep, still leaking.
You sat back slowly, still connected, looking down at the mess between your thighs. Your stomach was still rounded, still showing that firm little bulge from how deep he was.
“Still not enough,” you said, half-whispered.
His eyes flicked up to you, jaw tight, face flushed.
“…Then fuck me again.”
— SUNDAY ★
“You’re shaking,” Sunday murmured, his breath brushing your neck like silk. “I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”
His fingers ghosted down your sides, thumbs grazing the stiff peaks of your nipples before he dragged them down—so casual, like he wasn’t making you tremble beneath him. You arched into his touch anyway, shameless, aching.
His lips quirked. “Eager, aren’t we?”
He dragged your wrists up and pinned them above your head, not hard—just enough pressure to remind you you weren’t in charge. His body hovered over yours, still mostly clothed, while you were already spread out and exposed beneath him, legs open, soaked and twitching.
And he hadn’t even put his cock in yet.
“Look at you,” he said, golden eyes lazy and amused. “Messy little thing, already soaking the sheets and I’ve barely touched you.”
His free hand moved down—slow, deliberate—and stopped to roll one of your nipples between his fingers. You gasped, hips jerking, and he smiled like he’d been waiting for that exact sound.
“Oh?” He leaned down and bit the other one—sharp, fast, mean. “Sensitive.”
“Sunday—” you whimpered, your voice breathless and strained.
“Yes, yes,” he murmured, licking the spot he’d just bitten, “you always sound so sweet when you’re like this. Let’s see what you sound like with my cock inside you.”
You didn’t get time to respond.
He let go of your wrists, just for a moment—just long enough to push your thighs open wider and line himself up. His cock pressed against your soaked folds, and when he pushed in, it was all at once.
Thick. Deep. Stretching you wide.
You cried out, head falling back, back arching.
He groaned, low and satisfied, like the feel of your pussy clenching around him was a reward he’d earned. “Tight. That’s good.”
He didn’t start moving yet—he just stayed there, buried to the hilt inside you, feeling you twitch around him.
“You’ll take all of it, won’t you?” he asked, voice low and silken. “I don’t care if you cry. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember anything but the shape of me.”
He snapped his hips forward—slow, deep, and devastating.
You moaned helplessly, your hands fisting in the sheets now, clinging to anything as he dragged himself back and slammed in again. His pace was steady but brutal, cock hitting you deep, every stroke forcing little sounds out of you that only made him move harder.
“You feel it?” he asked, dragging a finger along your belly, pressing just enough to feel the bulge he was making. “That’s where I am.”
You whimpered, hips bucking, eyes wide.
He rolled his hips, pushing even deeper. “You’ll take all of it. You were made to take me.”
His hand came up again, thumb grazing your nipple, then pinching it hard as his teeth found your neck.
The bite he gave you this time was worse—hot and sharp and perfect. You gasped, your walls squeezing tight around his cock. He hummed, satisfied.
“You want my cum, don’t you?” he breathed against your throat. “You want me to fill you up. Make you leak with it.”
“Y-Yes—!”
He grinned against your skin. “Then beg for it.”
You sobbed, almost too far gone to speak. He didn’t stop—his cock moved faster, harder, fucking you so deep your thighs were trembling.
“I said beg.”
“Please—please cum in me,” you gasped, desperate. “I want it, I want all of it—Sunday, please—”
That broke him.
He grabbed your hips and slammed into you, again and again, chasing his own climax with that smug, focused look never leaving his face. You clenched around him, your body already so close to breaking—
And then he came. Hot. Deep. A low, controlled groan rumbling in his chest as he buried himself to the hilt and spilled inside you, thick spurts filling your pussy until you could feel it dripping out around his cock.
He stayed like that, one hand sliding up to your chest again, gently brushing your sensitive nipples as you trembled under him.
“See?” he whispered. “Perfect fit.”
You couldn’t answer. You were too full. Too fucked. Too ruined.
He smiled.
“Let’s do that again.”
Your body was still shaking.
You were twitching beneath him, slick with sweat, legs splayed open as his cum slowly leaked out of your pussy—hot, thick, and sticky, dripping messily onto the sheets. You hadn’t even come down from the last orgasm, your body still fluttering around nothing—
—and Sunday was already shifting behind you again.
You flinched when you felt his hand between your cheeks, parting them with calm precision.
“Don’t tense,” he murmured, voice infuriatingly soft. “I didn’t say we were done.”
Your eyes flew open. “W-Wait—”
He ran a slick finger down to your tight rim, slowly circling it. Your whole body jolted.
“Oh? You didn’t think I’d use all of you?” His voice was laced with amusement. “You’re shaking, darling. Is that from the creampie or the anticipation?”
You tried to clench your thighs shut, but he just tsked and pulled them apart again.
“Be still.”
He didn’t give you a chance to protest.
He leaned over you, tongue dragging across your nipple as his finger slowly pressed in—slow, relentless, stretching you open while he bit down gently on your already sore peak.
You gasped, hips twitching.
“Gods, you’re tight,” he murmured, breath hot against your chest. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it fit.”
He pumped his finger slowly, just enough to get you used to it—then added another. Your back arched.
You couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. You were already ruined from the first round, your pussy sore and leaking, your nipples red and overstimulated—and now Sunday was casually opening your ass like he had all the time in the world.
“Breathe,” he said softly. “If you beg, I’ll go slow.”
“Please,” you gasped, “please fu-fuck me there—just—just go slow—”
He smiled, as the wings behind his ear slightly twitched.
“Good girl.”
You felt the head of his cock press against your ass next—still hard, still slick with your own juices and his cum—and then he pushed in.
Slow. Agonizingly slow. He filled you inch by inch, making sure you felt every bit of that thick cock as it stretched your tightest hole.
You whimpered, burying your face in the sheets.
“Too much?” he asked, stroking your side. “You can take it. You always do.”
And gods, you did. You took all of it—let him bottom out in your ass until your breath left your lungs in a sob. The stretch was deep, intense, making your pussy flutter even though it was no longer being touched.
“I can feel you clenching,” he whispered in your ear. “You like being stuffed like this, don’t you?”
He started to move—slow thrusts at first, grinding into you with slow, steady pressure. Your back arched again, the stretch lighting your nerves on fire.
You whimpered something broken and incoherent.
“Still too dumb to talk? How cute.” He grabbed your hips and pulled you back into him, fucking you deeper. “Maybe I’ll finish here next time. Fill this hole until it spills down your thighs.”
Your mouth dropped open in a moan as his pace picked up—his cock fucking deep into your ass now, full and punishing, while his fingers rolled your nipples again, cruel and relentless.
“Look at you,” he breathed, biting your shoulder this time. “Used, stuffed, and still begging for more.”
Your body was trembling—your pussy clenching uselessly, empty but aching as your ass took everything he gave you. You felt ruined. Owned. Full.
And then he growled—low and hungry.
“You’re going to take my cum again,” he said, thrusting harder now. “You’re going to feel it dripping from both holes.”
You came first. The pressure, the fullness, the overstimulation—it was too much. You came with a scream, your whole body clenching down as you shuddered beneath him.
He didn’t stop.
He groaned low and buried himself one last time, cock twitching inside your ass as he spilled hot, thick cum deep inside you. It was so much you felt it leaking around his cock—dripping out and down, sticky and filthy and perfect.
He stayed there a moment, deep inside, panting softly against your back.
And then he pulled out—slowly, letting every drop of his cum leak out of your used ass and down your thighs. You collapsed under him, twitching and gasping.
He brushed your hair back with one hand, gently tweaking your oversensitive nipple with the other.
“Now you’re done,” he murmured, smug and composed as ever.
“But I’m not.”
You collapse into his lap, trembling and utterly fucked out, your pussy still dripping from the last creampie, your ass aching and stretched beyond belief. Sunday’s hands find your hips with that effortless, commanding touch, pulling you flush against him. His cock is still buried deep inside you, the slow aftershocks making you shiver.
His fingers slide between your thighs first, gliding through your slick folds, teasing your soaked pussy with delicate, deliberate strokes. You whimper, biting your lip as his thumb circles your swollen clit, drawing soft moans from your throat.
“Such a perfect mess,” he murmurs, voice low and dangerously calm. “Look at you, dripping all over me like the filthy little thing you are.”
Then, without warning, he slides one finger around to your ass, pressing gently against your rim. Your whole body jerks, but he’s patient, pushing just enough to make you twitch.
“Don’t close up on me now,” he teases, dragging another finger in slow, shallow strokes. “You took me so well—you’re going to take my fingers too.”
You moan, hips rocking involuntarily as he moves his fingers deeper, stretching you open all over again. His other hand finds your nipple, pinching and rolling the already sensitive peak with expert precision. He leans down, biting softly into your neck, marking you with that sharp, delicious sting.
“You’re my perfect slut,” he whispers, voice thick with satisfaction. “So fucking full of me. Can you feel how much you want it? How much you need to be filled again?”
You can’t stop the needy whimper that slips out, your body trembling as he sinks his fingers deeper, curling them just right inside your ass and sliding against your clit. Your back arches, hips grinding against him even though you’re already overflowing.
Sunday chuckles darkly, a hand gripping your hip tighter as he keeps fucking you with his fingers, slow and torturous, making you beg without words.
“You’re going to take everything I give you,” he promises, voice a low growl. “And you’re going to love it.”
— PHAINON ★
You were already soaked before he even touched you—his fingers trailing light and slow over your thighs, making goosebumps rise in their wake. Phainon’s hands were gentle, patient, but there was a teasing smile in his voice when he whispered, “You’re already dripping for me, huh?”
You flushed, biting your lip as you shifted to sit right on his cock, feeling the thick hardness pressing through you—warm, full, and perfectly stretched.
He chuckled low, fingers hooking around your hips to steady you, but never forcing. “Take your time,” he murmured, voice soft but heavy with promise. “Ride me nice and slow. Show me how much you want this.”
You began to move, slow circles, feeling the deep stretch inside you as his cock filled your pussy inch by inch. His hands slid up your waist, resting just below your ribs, thumb teasing your skin as he watched you with those bright eyes—half amusement, half something deeper.
“Look at you,” he said, voice husky, “so perfect around me.” His hand drifted upward, fingers brushing your nipple through your shirt, just the lightest pinch to make you shiver.
You gasped, and his smile deepened. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and bit down softly on your collarbone—a quick nip that left you burning in the best way.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered. “Feeling full already?” His fingers tightened on your hips as you pressed down harder, riding him with slow, deliberate movements that had your breath catching every time.
You leaned forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and he pulled you closer. His cock was thick and hot inside you, filling you completely, pushing deep enough to make your belly push out—a visible swell beneath your skin that made you both flush.
Phainon groaned low, hands slipping beneath your shirt to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples, teasing them to hardness. He bit his lip, watching your face as you closed your eyes, riding him perfectly, every little movement coaxing more pleasure from both of you.
“You’re mine,” he said quietly, voice thick. “Gonna breed you full tonight. Fill you until you’re dripping.”
Your hips stuttered, pussy clenching hard around him, and he chuckled softly, lips brushing against your ear. “You want me to come inside you?”
“Yes,” you whispered, breathless.
His hands gripped your waist tighter as he thrust upward, slow and sure, cockhead pressing against that perfect spot inside you, making your vision blur.
“Good girl,” he praised, voice low and steady. “Ride me. Show me how much you want it.”
You did—faster now, a steady rhythm as your body started to quake. His teeth grazed your shoulder again, just a teasing nip before he bit down harder, making you gasp.
His cock pulsed inside you, thick and hot, and when he came, it was slow and deep—filling you completely, his warmth spreading low in your belly, making the bulge beneath your skin impossible to hide.
You shivered, your own climax crashing through you as he held you close, whispering, “Mine.”
And even after he pulled out, his hands stayed on you—gentle, loving, and teasing, promising more to come.
You were already slick with him, heat pooling low between your legs, the thick hardness of his cock pressing deep inside you—warm, heavy, and stretching you open just right. Phainon’s hands rested lightly on your hips, steady but gentle, thumbs stroking slow lazy circles, never forcing, just guiding you as you started to move.
“Ride me, baby,” he whispered, voice low but teasing, like he was enjoying every second of watching you take him in. “Slow. Nice and slow.”
You shifted your hips, sinking down fully on him, feeling him fill you completely—the way his cock stretched your pussy deliciously, making your belly push out a little, soft and swollen with him inside you. His length was thick and long, and the way you rode him made you feel full, like you could take all of him, all night.
Phainon’s fingers slid up your sides, tracing along your ribs, tilting your hips just slightly as you moved, matching your rhythm with slow, deep thrusts from below. His thumb found your nipple, rolling it gently between his fingers, teasing it until a sharp gasp slipped from you.
He bit down lightly on your collarbone, just enough to make your skin flush pink, and his voice dropped even lower.
“Good girl,” he said. “So tight around me.”
His hands moved to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking your nipples as you leaned forward, hands braced on his shoulders. His cock twitched inside you, full and thick, pushing deep with every slow, steady grind.
You met his gaze, breath hitching, and he smiled that teasing smile you loved—soft but full of promise.
“You gonna take my cum, huh?” he asked, voice husky. “Wanna breed you full. Feel you dripping all over me.”
You nodded, riding him harder now, hips rolling in lazy circles, wet heat slick between your thighs, cock buried deep inside your pussy, stretching you perfectly, filling you completely.
Phainon’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he bit your shoulder this time, teeth grazing your skin just enough to sting, making you shudder.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmured. “Take it all.”
Your pussy clenched hard around him, matching every pulse of his cock, and you gasped when his pace sped up—deep, powerful thrusts that made your belly bulge out with every movement.
You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders, overwhelmed by the fullness and pleasure.
“Phainon—” you whimpered, hips trembling.
He growled softly, fingers digging into your hips.
“Come for me,” he commanded, voice thick. “Fill me.”
Your climax crashed through you, body shuddering, pussy clenching tight around his cock as waves of heat rolled over you.
Phainon followed right after, slow and deep, spilling thick, hot cum deep inside your pussy. You felt the warmth spread, filling you completely, making your belly swell visibly beneath your skin.
He stayed buried inside you a moment, heavy and warm, holding you close.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, voice soft but possessive.
You collapsed forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder, breath ragged.
His fingers found your nipples again, rolling and pinching gently as you both caught your breath.
“Perfect,” he said, voice full of pride and something tender beneath it all.
— AVENTURINE ★
Aventurine’s hands were warm and sure, sliding under your shirt with a slow, deliberate ease that made your pulse spike instantly. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, the kind of look that promised he was taking control—and there was no point in resisting.
You shivered as his fingers wrapped around your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples with a mix of teasing and reverence. They were already hard beneath his touch, swollen from the heat spreading through your body. His lips brushed your collarbone, trailing down with lazy, satisfied breaths, as if savoring the way you quivered under him.
Without breaking eye contact, Aventurine carefully pulled your shirt up, exposing your bare skin to the cool air—and to him. His hands cupped your breasts fully now, lifting and pressing them together just enough to make your chest feel unbearably sensitive.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and velvety. “So soft, so ready.”
He shifted, leaning back just enough to free himself from his shirt, revealing the strong, smooth planes of his chest and the firm line of his waist. You could feel the heat radiating off him even now, making your skin flush hotter.
Then, with a casual confidence that sent your breath hitching, he positioned himself between your breasts. His cock, already hard and demanding, pressed against the valley between your tits. You swallowed hard, heart pounding.
“Ready for this?” he asked, the corner of his mouth tugging up in that sly smile you couldn’t resist.
You nodded, barely able to speak, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders.
He lifted your tits with both hands, molding them around his cock like they were made to hold him perfectly. Slow at first, he rocked his hips forward, pressing into the soft flesh, then pulled back, teasing you with the slick friction of your own wetness against his skin.
Your breath hitched, fingers digging into his skin as he began to move with a smooth rhythm. His cock slid between your tits, slick and hot, as he tit-fucked you with effortless grace.
His eyes never left yours—calm, commanding, and so fucking hungry.
You gasped when he quickened, the slick drag of his cock against your nipples and skin driving you wild. His hands tightened their grip, kneading your tits as he fucked you between them, the wet sounds echoing through the room.
“Gods, you’re perfect,” he breathed, biting lightly on your shoulder, marking you as his. “So fucking tight.”
You moaned, hips bucking instinctively, aching for more friction, more contact.
He didn’t slow down. If anything, he got more deliberate, pressing you harder into him, dragging his cock deeper with every thrust. The sensation of being completely enveloped—held, used, worshiped—made your knees weak.
His hands slid lower, fingers teasing the soft curve of your waist, then tracing down your stomach to press just below your belly button. He was so close, the pressure mounting as he rocked his hips in a steady, controlled frenzy.
You felt the coil inside you tighten, your body trembling, breath coming in ragged gasps as you spiraled toward the edge.
“Come for me,” he urged, voice rough with need. “Let me hear you.”
With a shuddering cry, you spilled over, your whole body shaking as your climax hit like a tidal wave. Aventurine kept moving, fucking you through your orgasm, his cock slick and hard between your tits as he pushed you further and further.
He groaned low, hips stuttering as he chased his own release, biting down gently on your neck to keep himself grounded.
Then, with a final, deep thrust, he came, hot and thick, spilling down your chest and between your breasts.
Your fingers tangled in his hair as he collapsed against you, breathing heavy but still completely in control.
“Perfect,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “You’re mine.”
Aventurine’s breath was hot against your skin as he pulled back slightly, his cock slick with your wetness, still resting between your tits. His eyes gleamed with a sharp, teasing light—the kind that made your heart race and your body flush all at once.
“Not done with you yet,” he said quietly, voice edged with that cruel smile you knew so well. “You like being used like this, don’t you? Soft and needy, just begging for more.”
Your pulse hammered as his hands slid from your breasts down to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to remind you who was in control. He tugged you down a little, pressing his chest against yours.
“You’re so fucking vulnerable,” he continued, tracing the curve of your jaw with a finger. “Perfect to break down.”
A shiver ran through you, equal parts anticipation and nerves. You knew he could be merciless when he wanted.
Slowly, he slid off you, his cock slipping free from your breasts with a wet, slick sound that made your stomach twist.
“Stand up,” he commanded, his voice low but firm.
You obeyed, your legs shaky but steady. Aventurine reached behind you, pushing your shirt up again, his hands running down your spine to grip your hips.
He pressed his cockhead against your entrance, just barely teasing you. You bit your lip, craving the full stretch, the full feeling of him inside.
“Not so fast,” he whispered, pulling back and circling your clit with slow, cruel flicks of his tongue and fingers. “You’re going to take your time. I want to watch you lose your mind.”
You whimpered, hips moving instinctively, desperate for friction. But he held you still, gripping you tight.
“Patience,” he said, voice sharp like a whip.
“Please,” you breathed, barely above a whisper. “Please fuck me, Aventurine.”
His smile grew wider—dangerous and wicked. “That’s better.”
Then he pressed in, slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch as you gasped, clutching his arms for balance.
His hands roamed your body as he began to move, slow thrusts that stretched and filled you completely. The friction of his cock against your sensitive walls, the slick warmth spreading through you—it was overwhelming.
Aventurine’s eyes darkened with hunger as he watched your every reaction, every shudder and moan that escaped your lips.
“You’re mine to ruin,” he said softly, biting your shoulder lightly. “And I’m not stopping until I do.”
His pace increased, deep, powerful thrusts that made your knees weaken, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
His hands gripped your hips harder, holding you tight as he fucked into you like he wanted to mark you, claim you with every stroke.
Your body trembled as you neared the edge again, his voice low and commanding pushing you over.
“Come for me,” he growled, “let me feel you squeeze me.”
You shattered around him, muscles clenching tight, your cry muffled against his chest.
Aventurine’s own breathing grew ragged, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he chased his release.
With a guttural groan, he tensed and spilled inside you—warm, thick, filling you completely, sinking deep into your core with no mercy.
You gasped as his seed flooded you, your body swollen and aching, the delicious fullness making you shudder with overstimulation.
He didn’t pull out, holding you close, letting every drop sink in as he pressed kisses to your neck.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with that cruel edge you loved. “Completely full. You’re going to carry this with you.”
You melted against him, overwhelmed and utterly his—marked and claimed, exactly how he wanted.
— BLADE ★
Blade didn’t waste time with pleasantries. The moment you showed any hesitation, his cold eyes pierced right through you, as if sizing up a problem that needed to be fixed—immediately. He grabbed your wrist with an iron grip, pulling you close until your breath hitched, chest pressed against the unforgiving wall.
“You’re mine,” he said, voice sharp and low. “And I don’t have time for bullshit.”
No softness, no coaxing—just raw demand. His hands pinned your arms above your head with brutal precision, the coldness in his touch sending a thrill of fear mixed with arousal straight to your core.
His body pressed against yours, taut and unyielding. The hard line of his jaw flexed as he stared down at you, hungry, ruthless.
Without warning, his cock slammed into you, deep and merciless, the harsh thrusts rocking your entire body against the wall. You gasped at the sudden invasion, skin scraping against cold stone, the ache of his cock driving straight through your resistance.
“You think you can hold back?” he sneered, voice cruel. “I’ll break you before you even try.”
His hips slammed harder, faster, pounding into you like a force of nature—unyielding and unforgiving. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain mingling through your body.
Your nails dug into the wall, trying to hold yourself up as he continued his relentless assault. There was no gentleness here—only the cold, hard reality of his dominance.
Blade’s hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, squeezing, dragging you against the wall with violent precision. The sharp scrape of your skin against the surface beneath you only heightened the raw sensation.
His lips brushed your ear, cold breath hissing through his teeth. “You’ll learn your place.”
You whimpered, body trembling under the harsh rhythm, every nerve on fire as he drove deeper, faster, with no sign of mercy.
His cock stretched you wide, filling you completely, a perfect fit that left no room to deny him.
“You like this, don’t you?” he taunted, voice dripping with contemptuous amusement. “Being pushed, used, owned.”
Your breath hitched, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his words and the physical force he wielded so effortlessly.
He chuckled darkly, the sound low and threatening, as if savoring your helplessness.
Blade’s fingers dug into your hips, gripping tight enough to bruise, anchoring you as he fucked you harder, pounding relentlessly against the unyielding wall.
“You’re nothing without me,” he growled, voice thick with dominance. “I’m the only one who’ll ever want you like this.”
His cock hit every sensitive spot inside you with merciless precision, dragging groans from deep in your throat, breaking down every last shred of control you tried to hold.
Your back arched, body trembling, overwhelmed by the powerful sensations and his cruel dominance.
He leaned down, biting the shell of your ear hard enough to draw a sharp gasp, the sting burning deliciously through the haze of pleasure and pain.
“Beg me,” he commanded, voice cold and commanding. “Show me you’re mine.”
You didn’t hesitate—words spilling out in desperate need, raw and unfiltered.
“Please, Blade… don’t stop… I’m yours.”
His grin was vicious, a predator savoring his prey. “Good girl.”
With a final, ruthless thrust, he slammed into you deeper than before, holding you against the wall as his cock pulsed, spilling hot and thick inside you.
You cried out, body shaking, completely fucked and marked, utterly his.
Blade’s hands tightened on your hips, holding you steady as his breathing slowed, the cruel smirk never leaving his face.
“Remember this,” he said softly, voice dripping with dark promise. “You belong to me.”
Blade didn’t pull out. Instead, he held you flush against the wall, hips pistoning with savage precision, his cock throbbing deep inside your slick heat. Every thrust was a command, every movement designed to own you completely.
His hands moved from your hips up to your sides, fingers digging into your ribs with enough force to leave bruises—but you didn’t care. The sharp pressure sent waves of delicious pain mingled with fire through your skin.
“You’re mine,” he growled again, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck, leaving a harsh, stinging bite. The taste of copper filled your mouth as your own breath hitched, a mix of pain and craving spiraling through you.
Your nails clawed the wall, unable to grip anything but the rough surface, as Blade’s relentless rhythm drove deeper, harder. The tight heat of your pussy clamping down on him only seemed to spur him on, making his strokes more violent, more demanding.
His lips brushed your ear, voice low and rough. “You think you can take this? You want me to ruin you?”
You gasped, words choked out in desperate need. “Yes, Blade… please.”
His grin was cruel and victorious, like a predator savoring his conquest. “Good. I’ll make sure you remember this night forever.”
Suddenly, he shifted, one hand sliding down your body, fingers teasing your clit with harsh, merciless circles as he fucked you mercilessly against the wall. The sensation was overwhelming—a perfect, cruel mix of sharp pain and searing pleasure.
Your back arched involuntarily, breath catching in your throat as the overstimulation pushed you closer to the edge.
Blade leaned in, biting your shoulder hard, the sting sharp and intoxicating. “Come on, show me you’re mine,” he demanded.
You trembled, body shaking, eyes rolling back as the first wave of your orgasm crashed through you—clenching tight around his cock, sucking him deeper with desperate greed.
But Blade wasn’t done. Not yet.
His hips slammed harder, faster, riding out your release while dragging you mercilessly toward his own.
“I’m going to fill you so deep you’ll be dripping for me for days,” he promised, voice a dark growl of possession.
Your body trembled uncontrollably, a delicious burn spreading from your core as he pushed deeper, pounding into you with brutal force, every thrust crushing the air from your lungs.
Then, with a guttural roar, Blade’s cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot, thick seed deep into your trembling pussy.
You cried out, body slick and swollen, utterly overwhelmed by the overwhelming fullness and his fierce domination.
He held you there, hips still grinding slowly, letting every drop sink in, marking you thoroughly as his.
His breath was heavy in your ear as he whispered, “You’re mine now. Always.”
Your body sagged against the wall, spent but burning with need and the sharp edge of his cruel control.
Blade smirked, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with brutal tenderness. “Get ready to beg for more.”
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I think Dazai's backstory is really cool in how, despite having more information about it than most other characters, majority of his life is just one giant noodle incident.
Yep, that's the line I'm going with as an introduction to this analysis. Just bear with me.
To start off, for those who don't know, the term "noodle incident" originates from the (amazing) comic Calvin and Hobbes. In it, the whole idea is that Calvin did this unspecified thing in school that involved noodles, but it's never confirmed what exactly happened. It's only referenced in passing, and it is clear that it was not good. Applied to general fiction, the term Noodle Incident refers to an event that is often referenced, but never clearly explained, and what is important is the characters' reactions and feelings towards it. The principle idea behind it is that imagining what said incident could be is way more significant and impactful than anything it would actually be if it was said. It's not the event that's important, but the effects and responses to it are. *for more info, I recommend Overly Sarcastic Productions trope talk video about it*
Now, how this plays into Dazai's life is that, while it is extremely evident that he likely has a horrible, tragic backstory, we never really get to see much of it. The earliest we are introduced to him, he is already suicidal, and he has lost most in hope in existence. These feelings are tempered a bit when he first joins the Port Mafia, but they come back all too quickly. And while you could argue that him being in the Mafia is a large contributor to his depression,the main reasons why he seeks escape clearly transpired before he ever met Mori.
Dazai was already trying to commit suicide at fourteen, which is how he met Mori. Something happened earlier in his life, but we don't know what. Asagiri himself says that he left Dazai's core, the reason he wants to die, vague on purpose. We aren't given many details, and honestly, we aren't given much backstory to it either. The two biggest hints that we get is when he is speaking to Odasaku. First in The Day I Picked Up Dazai, and the second from Dazai and the Dark Era.
We have no idea who or what Dazai is referring to. From all that we have seen, all the backstories and light novels we are given, the only people that we know of whom Dazai actually lost were Ango and Odasaku-for Ango, it was that special friendship, and Odasaku, it was his life. And even so, it isn't much of an explanation, because he was obviously suicidal before he met them, as evident from how he speaks to Odasaku, and losing them wasn't a catalyst for Dazai's depression. (As a matter of fact, it was actually the first step towards improvement, but that's a different analysis).
Yet for how much we don't know about Dazai's life, I think it's done in such a way that it doesn't really matter. It's a noodle incident, in that sense. Because it's not about the events that actually transpired, it's about how that affects Dazai and the way we see him. Don't get me wrong, I would love a full, confirmed backstory, but Asagiri doesn't seem to intend to write it, and that makes Dazai's character so beautiful. It's also one of the reasons why the dark era, especially the light novel, is so tragic. Because yes, you can argue that as far as tragic backstories go, losing two friends isn't near the most awful, especially not in this universe (I'm not trying to play the "which character has more trauma" game, but compared to, for example, growing up in an abusive orphanage, it's relatively not as inherently tragic. That doesn't make it any less horrible though). But the point of the backstory isn't just to explain the reasoning why things ended up the way they did, why Dazai left the Mafia, boo hoo his friend died, but Odasaku and Ango represent everything in Dazai's life, everyone from his past we never got to meet and I'm not sure if we're ever going to. They symbolize all the things in his life that mattered to him, everything he never wanted to lose but did. The last scene in the bar, where the three of them meet up for the last time, Ango leaves, the picture with the three of them laughing and smiling, the whole thing is meant to serve as a microcosm for Dazai's life as a whole. That he feels he's always going to lose everything, and that's why he wants to die. We don't get details, we don't know the specific events, but we're left with the emotions that gives us an important glimpse into this character's mind, more than his life, and that's what makes him such an interesting character that's left open to interpretation and analysis. We aren't privy to the tragedy, but the aftereffects of it. And, almost as if to prove the point, Odasaku dies the next day. Right after Dazai says he always loses everyone, further cementing the idea that there's almost a curse surrounding him, a void of loneliness that may never be fulfilled, which is as much as Odasaku tells him when he dies.
Whatever happened in Dazai's life before fourteen was probably something horrible and tragic. Maybe he had a family. Maybe he had other good friends. Perhaps he even believed in the goodness of life and humanity. But what's really cool about the way he's written is that the exact events are not important nor necessary to understanding his character. His life is one big noodle incident, yet because of that, we're able to glean an almost deeper understanding about him, by leaving the details in the dark and exposing only the raw, humane emotions left behind. The most important part about any backstory in fiction isn't about what actually happened, it's about how does this affect the character now? What lasting impact did it leave on them, and how is it evident in the way they interact with the story in the present? This is something that Asagiri nails on the head when it comes to his backstories. And I think the lack of clear information about Dazai's backstory, yet all the information we do end up getting about him, is one of the reasons why Dazai is such an interesting and intriguing character in the series.
Thank you all for you time. You may now return to your procrastination.
Fan Fiction as a Form of Active Bibliotherapy – MASTER'S THESIS
Hello there!
My dear friend @cottonfluffballofdoom is writing her master's thesis on the topic of Fan Fiction ("Fan Fiction as a Form of Active Bibliotherapy – The Therapeutic Potential of Fan Fiction"). She's at the stage where she needs to conduct her research.
Would you please consider filling out the survey below? It should take between 10 to 15 minutes. It is anonymous.
The purpose of this survey is to gather information about your experiences with reading and/or creating fan fiction and its impact on emotio
Any and all fandoms are welcome -- all that matters is that you're a fanfic reader or a writer.
Please, consider giving this post a boost or forwarding this survey further. All responses count and we'd be truly grateful for your help!
[CN] Official Guidebook (Vol. 2): Gavin's Growth Experience
CHILDHOOD - A faraway sky
For as long as he can remember, his father was always busy with work and rarely came home. Even when he returned home, he was always stern and cold. The sense of closeness between father and son only existed in his fantasises.
He gradually realised that "getting good grades" and "being sensible" could never be exchanged for his father seeing him in a different light. Despite his disappointment, he was not discouraged because he had a mother who loved him very much.
Under the care of his mother, he had a warm childhood and many hobbies and interests.
Aside from basketball, he also had a passion for the sky and the universe. Various types of model airplanes were displayed in his room.
His sense of justice made him always choose to stand in the face of danger and use his determination to protect everything behind him. After his little brother was born, he was extremely happy to have another family member to protect. But such a warm time ended without warning on the day his father took his little brother away.
From then onwards, the life that he anticipated was forcibly cut in half, just like the childhood that his father never rescinded to. Fortunately, he could continue protecting his mother.
TEENAGE YEARS - The solitary path of wind
After his mother died in the fire, his world changed drastically. Without his mother's gentle supervision, he lost meaning in life, and truancy became a common occurrence. His solitary style of living provoked others, and he responded to every challenge with his fists.
Gradually, rumours of him being a school bully grew in intensity. Until one rainy day, his perpetually gloomy world finally received a ray of light - he saw you feeding a cat in the rain. From then onwards, he couldn't help but watch you. He always wanted to get a little closer, but was always stopped by the confusion in his heart. When his Evol was awakened by the sound of you playing the piano as he fell from the rooftop, he was finally saved from the abyss of confusion.
However, once his Evol was awakened, he became destined to embark on a life path regulated by his father. But he wasn't willing to simply leave like that. He wanted to make a choice for himself, so he wrote you a letter.
On that day, he waited in the library for a very, very long time but you didn't appear. The rustling wind abruptly stopped, and he silently bid farewell to his youth.
EVOL SPECIAL AGENT - An unruly lone wolf
Life in the police academy was rigid and unchanging.
He had harsh standards for himself. He did not participate in any recreational activities and devoted all of his time to high-intensity training. It was also because of such hard work that he became an Evol Special Agent with the Special Task Force at the age of 22. He was later assigned to the 29th Squad to carry out the Fish Hawk mission. After 2 years and 113 days, the Fish Hawk mission was successfully completed. After the 29th Squad officially disbanded, he embarked on his own journey.
In order to solve more Evolver criminal cases, he began to investigate clues related to Black Swan. When there weren't any missions, he enjoyed soaking in the training grounds alone to constantly improve his physicality and combat abilities. During his occasional breaks, he would ride a motorbike along mountain roads, lie on a rooftop while looking at the sky, or look at the photo in front of his chest.
When there were missions, he would cling onto the belief that "the mission is of absolute priority" and would not stop even when bleeding and injured. But such an attitude slowly changed after his captain's numerous "scoldings".
A successful mission was just as important as being able to survive. Sometimes, relying on comrades-in-arms was more helpful than fighting alone. However, he didn't realise that he seemed to be more inclined to solving problems by himself.
Like an unruly lone wolf, he was used to shouldering missions alone, treading on this long and arduous journey.
COMMANDER OF THE SPECIAL TASK FORCE - A guardian
After Leto stepped down, Gavin took over the role of as the Commander of the Special Task Force.
Back when Gavin was just B-7 from the Special Task Force, he was known as the sharp blade of the Special Task Force. Currently, Gavin has become the most worthy leader of the Special Task Force. With all of his life and passion, he does his utmost best to protect the peace and safety of thousands of families.
He perpetually implements his sense of justice. With a fierce, decisive and precise style, he has led the Special Task Force in solving major cases and always maintains the peace in Loveland City. He will never tolerate evildoing.
As a leader, he shoulders the weight of the entire Special Task Force. Aside from power, it is more so responsibility. He continues to wield the Special Task Force as a sword to maintain the safety of the city and at the same time, also protects every squad member who forms this "sword".
These lives are chips piled on his shoulders as his responsibility. As the guardian of the city's security, he doesn't allow himself to have a moment of carelessness.
Evil is always in action, and he has long since decided to become the one who brings all evildoing to an end.
In order to fulfil this goal, he is willing to throw himself into the fiery flames and burn it all down.
If it's okay for me to ask, how do you draw fabric or wrinkles on clothes? I LOVE how you draw clothes, and I struggle with drawing clothes that would look realistic
✨️🌿 Get this cool NEW NATURE Tutorial from my shop! Trees, plants, flowers, grass, etc. LAST DAY to get this tutorial is MARCH 5th! 👈✨️✨️✨️ Shop link below. 👇👇👇
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.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
dailybridgerton
prguitarman
snowghoul
andulkaphoto
origamiaround
gamechangershow
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
