Jul 31, 2023
"WHAT IN SAM HILL--"
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"WHAT IN SAM HILL--"
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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What is Your Hate Language
Violence
Physical Violence is a common, yet bold hate language. It’s old as time and is as natural as rain. It’s often one of the first thoughts that come to us when we feel hatred, but you actually have the moxie to go through with it. Fist fights at bars and you think assassination is the best option in politics. You’re an absolute loose canon. Your most likely crime would be murder. The only down side of this hate language is how hard it is to get away with it.
How attractive are you out of 1-100
"Mm. I came back back to this. Seems right."
"Right again! How's this thing so accurate?"
"Is this because I'm a stick figure"
what kind of love are you?
Love as a Flaw
Cowering, your love hides in the dark. In shadows and under cover of night, your love runs from corner to corner, afraid to linger, afraid to be caught. Afraid, afraid, afraid of everything. When you fall in love, it is with alarm bells ringing. Your love is a mistake, a flaw in the code, a purchase you don’t remember making and desperately want to return. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t want this. It’s a problem–– your problem ––and you would do anything to pass it off, burn it away, scoop it out of you with bare hands, or carved out with hooked knives before it can destroy you. Get it out, just get it out now. You don’t care who you hurt in the process, only that you can’t afford to be hurt first. Being loved by you is to be loved by a figment of the imagination. It is to be loved in halves, or not at all.
Love as a Force of Nature
Your love is like whiplash –– it comes in with the rain, it blows the doors wide open. When you fall in love, it is sudden and hard and immense. It is powerful. It is earth-shaking and world-ending. Nature is a force, and that force can be destructive if you're not careful. See how the world is doused in gasoline and set on fire –– your love consumes, your love takes, your love burns. You're hot and cold all at once, a hurricane and a wildfire bound together in skin, and when you're in love, it can feel like it's eating you alive from the inside out. When you love, it is with everything you have because it is everything you have. Be careful, darling, because not everyone survives the storm.
Love as a Threshold
Your love does not ask for much. Your love does not take. Your love is free, and unquestioned, and here for wherever needs it. When you fall in love, it is as gentle as a breath in the night. It is quiet, and it is effortless. It is tender. If your love was a house, it would readily welcome all who come through. If your love was a hearth, it would warm the hands of whoever stopped by, whether for a day, a month, a year, or forever. When you fall for someone, it is without strings, without conditions, without need. You love for the sake of loving, for the sake of caring for those who need it. You love with a giver’s heart and a giver’s hands and are made so much stronger for it. Being loved by you is to always feel at home. Your love may not always be well-received by those unprepared to linger, but it is unforgettable all the same.
what kind of herb are you ?
Dandelion
You grew up too fast and all you know is the calluses on your fists and the thousand invisible scars that you pretend don't ache.
Your anger burns so bright, so hot or maybe not at all, so deep you could never tell it was there. You are yours and you will defend that to the death after so many years of being ripped apart and denied your own agency, and maybe you are still facing the bastards who stole your innocence, but you will survive because that's the only thing you know how to do without breaking. The only thing that you know besides protect, protect, protect, protect, yourself or sometimes those few others you claim as yours.
You are a thousand sharp edges but impenetrable, a traumatized child so covered by thorny armor that you promised yourself you're grown now, you're stronger than anyone who has ever hurt you. You're safe. Nothing will ever hurt you again. You're so alone though sometimes, in a world that sees you as too much or too broken or too angry or too hurt, and you want to scream with the too-much of it, prove that you're okay, that you're self-reliant, that you are strong enough to stake your claim on your body, on your mind, on your heart, on your people, and protect it from any who dare take it away from you.
You are the sea in tempest, a howling sky, a tsunami in motion, a force of nature, no matter how much you sometimes yearn to be still, to be safe, to be small. You are a dandelion, stubborn and determined to grow in the rockiest of soil, and bloom again in spring.
Mint
The world is a puzzle, so complex and multifaceted that you long to run your hands through the tapestry of its wonders and stay there forever, lost in the threads and colors and stories. You wish to stay there forever and you tell yourself it's to know the world but maybe it's not, maybe it's a fear that you're not enough, that you're so fragile and helpless in a world that moves too fast, too sharply, too many bright, painful colors that you stay locked inside your mind and thoughts. Where you decide the tempo of your world, where you can grow and be as competent, as capable as you want, where the world is as wide as you can imagine it and never out of control unless you want it to be. Your shield is your knowledge, your mind, and you never feel ready enough for the world around you, never feel prepared enough, never safe, and you wonder if things could have been different, if you could have been better, happier, more like everyone else if you'd just known what you know now.
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Once You’re Stripped Clean, What’s At Your Core?
flightless bird
the thought of your found family is what motivates you in your own little world. you touch the clouds, and the soil gives way under your footprints... this is utopia. if you were to erase one thing, it would be your memory. experience is important, but ignorance is bliss. identity, in heaven, should give way to happiness. you'd give anything just to sit by the swings and eat ice cream, but this isn't that kind of world. you have to get up and wash the dirt off of your scraped knees. i think you have an escapism problem.
silent admission
in tarot, the fool is numbered 0 – the number of unlimited potential. as the protagonist, he is ever present and therefore needs no number as well as no introduction. the world revolves around you in ways that i can't begin to describe, though you'd shrug it off if i were to begin to explain. i need you to know that time is running out. if you want to get this done, you need to start now. sloth is your greatest enemy in this world, and you can only run so far from the opposition when you start with such a disadvantage. keep your head high, yeah? the kid you were is still in there somewhere. you need to show him that it was worth it.
At the moment, you want...
to realize
it's been hazy for a while, the fog only thickening. sometimes, it feels as though nothing has ever made sense. you're stuck, and often, you can't figure out yourself. you hope to understand yourself, but yourself feels out of reach, behind a locked door. maybe, this locked door has already been opened, and you've yet to process the contents. or maybe, you're still figuring out how to unlock it. perhaps the key is buried deep beneath the dirt of the earth, far in your skin, deep in your brain and your heart. surely, you can feel it if you try. don't whisk away this feeling, the need to realize. let yourself discover, let yourself come to a realization. it's a step forward, think of it as so. are you aware?
"Ah, hell."