Let me project my problems onto my favroite character



#ao3#ao3 fanfic#writeblr#writing community#archive of our own

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Let me project my problems onto my favroite character

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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I deserve to have a monstrous crashout. I deserve to roar into the sky until it cracks and growl until the ground shakes. I deserve to throw up a never ending supply of blood or preferably just ambiguous black liquid EVERYWHERE. I deserve to double over and scream and make other such incomprehensible noises as my body cracks and twists. I deserve this more than some feeble screaming. Come the fuck on
I run and I run and I run but it
always
runs faster
Prompts For Showing Anger Without Expressing It
He smiled at you like nothing happened, then muted your name inside his head.
She said “sure” so softly you should have known you were already dead to her.
He kept nodding while you talked, like your stupidity needed gentle handling.
She laughed once, not because it was funny, because you were embarrassing yourself again.
He held the door for you like a saint, then let the silence skin you.
She looked you over slowly, like regret had somehow learned to wear your face.
He said “no worries” and somehow made it sound like a personal failure.
She folded your hoodie and set it aside like she was done mothering you.
He stared at his screen while you spoke, giving you exactly your market value.
She answered with one word, and you still felt dragged across concrete afterward.
He moved his jaw once, like your voice was testing his last nerve.
She called you “interesting” with that tone people use for mold and red flags.
He poured you coffee without asking, the kind of kindness that felt like contempt.
She fixed her eyeliner in your mirror while you unraveled, which felt insanely deserved.
He checked the time mid apology, like your guilt had already overstayed its welcome.
She said your name so flat it sounded like a blocked account notification.
He let you finish, which honestly felt meaner than cutting you off.
She smiled with her mouth only, and you felt your whole argument rot.
He stepped aside for you, like even standing near you was bad taste.
She kept scrolling while you spiraled, and somehow that was the loudest insult.
He said “got it” and made you feel painfully easy to replace.
She tucked one strand of hair back and looked at you like expired milk.
He stayed calm the way rich people do when they know you cannot touch them.

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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
A smash / rage room is an activity where you can destroy dishes, furniture, and similar objects. Which weapon would you choose?
claw hammer
baseball bat
crowbar
sledgehammer
fire axe
broken table leg
steel toe boots
throwin' bricks
gimme a [tag] and step outside
there must be something I can destroy with my bare hands
that's not the kind of smashing I'm into
anger is the natural response to emotional neglect and shouldn't take away your chances of being heard and respected btw
I will not forgive you. You ruined me.
[no images or poetry belong to me]