The Body-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody and Blood of Christ
Happy Easter Everyone

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The Body-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody and Blood of Christ
Happy Easter Everyone

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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We’ve waited a year to reblog this. Happy Bread Anniversary!
Because it’s important to celebrate the little victories in life.
No, no, no!
This is April 19 on the Julian Calendar.
The real bread day is on April 7th
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
Look buddy, i’m just trying to make it to Friday.
reblog if its friday and you made it
NEW LORDE NEW LORDE NEW LORDE NEW LORDE
Medieval peasants when the local ruler dies

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Local Dumbasss Knew What They Were Getting Themselves Into and Did It Anyways
You don’t have an Angel or a Devil on your shoulder. You have an Angry Viking and 50’s House Wife.
likes: finding little objects
dislikes: throwing anything away, ever
Every person in a position of political power should have their daily needs matched to the lowest class of their country.
You make $6 an hour now, Mr. Congressman, and you’re not allowed to sit down or take breaks during your 7.5 hour daily shift. If you don’t like that, then you’re welcome to make some changes
This.
i’ve never understood being able to enact laws that will never impact you
It legitimately works. When politicians chose to live on the food stamp budget for their state they worked to increase the allotment after only a week of living that way.
And honestly? It should include having to spend time living on disability, navigating their district in a wheelchair, and taking public transit.
These people should have to live with their choices the same way they force us to live with them.
there is something inherently shitty that people in positions of power have to physically do the same things as people who are less fortunate than them to be able to empathise with them and make a change.

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Wiggle wiggle
It’s insane that I’m not some socialites daughter reaping the rewards of nepotism, cause I’d be really good at that I think
Hell: are consorting with an Angel?
Crowley: yes? Are all you slackers not out there seducing any Angels? You got no game, is that it Hastur? You hating on me because you can’t get any Angel to feel an ounce of Temptation? Tell me, how’s it feel to be so unsexy you try and make one of my greatest demonic acts look traitorous?
Heaven: are you consorting with a Demon?
Aziraphale, combing his hair: I’m sorry, are you not filled with enough of Her love to open your heart to those who need it most? Now pass me that lip gloss
Addiction is not a crime.

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Portals to Hell by hrmphfft
IT’S BACK
I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO FIND THIS AGAIN FOR MONTHS
I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW
ITS BACK
This is one of those posts that you need to save and tag or you’ll never see it again for 84 years.
You got that right
I’m crying
New portal just opened
I got dracula aspirations but jonathan harker swooning syndrome and it’s really putting a cramp in my aesthetic
like what am I gonna do when I make my dramatic evil entrance after kidnapping the damsel and I’M the one who faints into my henchman’s arms
“ooo catch me renfield. bring me a glass of water and some salty snacks.”
“Really, Count?” said the damsel, who at that moment did not appear distressed so much as profoundly unimpressed. “A fainting couch? Do you take me for some kind of swooning, delicately vulnerable ingenue? I suppose you think—”
“It’s not for you,” I snapped, sinking onto the couch and tucking my cape around my feet. “Sometimes I stand up too quickly. That’s all:”
The chamber door opened, and a wretched little spider of a man skittered into the room. “Your electrolytes, m’lord,” he hissed evilly, placing a goblet and a little packet of veggie straws on the table beside me.
“Look,” said the damsel, “I’m a nurse. If you need blood so bad, I can do a transfusion. You don’t have to bite anyone and spread the curse. Return me to the hospital and I will hook you up with—”
“That won’t be necessarily,” I said quickly. “It’s a nice thought, but no thank you.”
She frowned. “Okay, well, have your henchmen bring me the equipment and we’ll do it here.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not happening.”
Exasperated, she threw her hands up and sat heavily upon my throne. “Why the fuck not? I do this shit all the time. It’s clean, it’s quick, it’s safe, it’s legal—”
“I’m sure you’re very good at your job,” I said, ghastly pale skin turning even whiter. “But I’d rather stick to biting people, thank you very much.”
Her lip curled in disgust. “Of course,” she said bitterly. “You enjoy making your victims suffer.”
I recoiled deeper into the voluminous fabric of my cape. “It’s not that,” I said in a thin voice. “I mean, yes, it’s partially that—I am evil, after all—but.” I swallowed, shuddering. “I don’t do well with needles.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and grimaced. “Did you do it yet?” I asked.
“No,” said the damsel. “Please try to hold still, Count. I’m trying to find your vein, but you’re all shriveled up like a mummy. This may take a few tries.”
My henchman touched my wrist gently. “You can squeeze my hand if you want, m’lord.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Renfield. I’ll try not to shatter your bones with my vampire strength.”
“Very good, m’lord. Just keep your eyes closed and pretend you’re Batman. Batman could handle this, couldn’t he, m’lord?”
“Yeah,” I said breathlessly. “Yeah.”
“And so can you.”
“Just like Batman,” I whispered. “Just like—ahhh!”
“There we go,” said the damsel. “Good god your veins are hard to find. But just hang in there, Count. We’ll get them filled up in no time.”
I got my first vaccine today and they made me lie on the special rolling couch Just For Draculas while I giggled nervously and infodumped about jerboas.