Dec 13, 2025
princess arson...
^ prince arson...
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princess arson...
^ prince arson...
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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you think i'm an idiot?
Whatever the Hell was going on inside that cloud of curls had made her salivate like a dog. She took pride in the nightmares she crafted, but she had to admit, being a passive observer now and then wasn't so bad. Good for creativity, and didn't she deserve a break? But this was too good to pass up. Catholic guilt was so crunchy. "Shh!" she admonished from under the wimple, sliding into the nun's skin as easily as anything. "Children should be seen, and not heard! Why are you so desperate for attention?"
It took very little effort to coax out the bleak halls, the pews, the beds with the squeaky mattresses and everyone's shoes lined up at the end. Except for Arlene's. "You are an idiot," said the sister. "How hard is it to keep track of one pair of shoes? One pair of shoes!" And Freddie's presence withdrew behind the veil of memory. This was a train that could run itself — straight off a fucking cliff.
@lamprog liked for a lyric starter !
"I know I've got a big ego; I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though!"
" ... gross. "
Kyosuke eyes the dubious-looking kidney and oyster pudding the two of them have been served for lunch with all the excitement of a lamb being led to slaughter. Gods, he misses Japanese food.
He clears his throat.
“Agreed. But, thankfully, we’re not really here for the pudding.” He laced his hands together. “What is it I can do for you, Miss…?”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ [ 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻 : @lamprog ]
❝ i wasn’t accusing you of anything. all i meant was this looks a little . . . suspicious. ❞
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now if you'll excuse me, i have better things to do.
rosetta pouts. (she probably shouldn't be so friendly with someone that isn't exactly... law-abiding, but whatever.)
" come onnnnn... " she whines, " what's better than talking to me? "
if you don't want your paper burnin', keep it out of my way.
Frantic hands go scrambling to reach the remnants of sheet music, most of it long gone by now. Sibyl is seething, as if they are the one that started the fire. They're treating the leftover pages gingerly, as if made of glass, but there's a viciousness in the way they whip around to glare, teeth bared and eyes full of ire.
"Or, how about this, you don't burn shit that isn't yours? Fucking think for two seconds." They're grateful they uploaded their stuff to keep it safe, but having the originals just...gone hurt more than words could ever say. "Fucking shit, what is wrong with you?"
"I beg your %*!#@)$ pardon?"
This girl again? He can't stand her. He's gotten so good at managing his temper, but his mind is still stuffed with dry kindling, and she's all sparks. He sees red. The shoulder she bumped into burns, and the heat races down his arm to his hand, curling his fingers into a fist. Don't lose your shit, says his therapist's voice kindly in his head. Deep breaths. Count to ten. One. There's an entire sidewalk she could have used; he doesn't take up the whole thing. Two. Why is it straight to swears with her? Three. Maybe she should take a good, long look in the mirror before flipping out on him for just existing. Four. Fuck it. "Beg then," he snaps.