Feb 25, 2020
“what if i murdered a priest...”
“......”
“..~”
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“what if i murdered a priest...”
“......”
“..~”
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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“Reading the wall...
“Did i miss something?”
angry noises from joey..
“I’m back ... what did i miss?”
“I think Joey likes Kai-”
“ NO!”
“So your crush was just Marik..”
“Are you sure about that--”
“Get off the blog Tristan.”
“And then i said,i’m the real thief king......”
“...you’re an idiot.”
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
Yeah, he got it, he had shitty taste in people. But goddammit he needed some excitement in his life! He was tired of the most exciting thing people had to talk about was the new show that was on. Alex was happy to show up places with bruises on his face and neck and a rough voice because he’d spent all night screaming . . . It was a lot better than watching the damn TV, and he took fighting with Absinthe over it many times. It took it with a masochistic smile on his face.
It wasn’t romance, and it wasn’t love. He wasn’t stupid enough to be trapped in that thought, even if some thought otherwise whenever Absinthe had their arm around him and he got a wide smile on his lips. There were plenty of sweet moments to balance things out, just like they spent several nights talking of philosophy and life on the roof. It wasn’t all violence. That’d get old quickly. It was just mostly violence. It was the times Alex wanted to wince sitting down because everything hurt. Because he let Absinthe throw him around like a rag doll.
And honestly . . . he missed them when they left. Maybe it was for the best in a traditional sense, but tradition often had a sad, empty tone to it. Worthless marriages and sad nuclear families where the kids dreamed of moving when they were eight. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” He said, smiling as the last bruises on his face faded from black to yellow. But he was telling himself that he missed them when he went home, looking in the mirror. That they were wrong. Because for once he kind of liked what he saw in the mirror. There was strength to his appearance now. He looked stronger, even under his hoodies, and with his face bashed and healing.
No one else mourned Absinthe leaving as they told him it was for the best, and he nodded along, agreeing with every word until he got home, beginning to scowl at his reflection again as everything healed and he began looking normal again . . . That was it, wasn’t it? No one else wanted consensual abuse.
.”...you got my support..”
“..dude.”
"...instead of Battle he could take Princeton. I think that sounds nicer. Damien Princeton. My-"
"NO!!!" Damien interrupted Noble, backing away. "NEVER!!!"
"My lovely wife!!!" Noble cooed in response, draping himself over the smaller. "We'll have a great honeymoon!!!"
"NO!!! T'IS IS HURTIN' NOT FLIRTIN'!!! HARASSMENT!!! ADULTERY!!!"