Sep 14, 2014
[text]: OK BUT WHO THE FUCK FORGTS A LIVE CHICKEN IN MY HOUSE
mxsterofmachines
[text] DON’T YELL AT ME THROUGH TEXT
[text] IT’S QUITE EASY TO FORGET ABOUT A LIVE CHICKEN, OKAY?
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[text]: OK BUT WHO THE FUCK FORGTS A LIVE CHICKEN IN MY HOUSE
mxsterofmachines
[text] DON’T YELL AT ME THROUGH TEXT
[text] IT’S QUITE EASY TO FORGET ABOUT A LIVE CHICKEN, OKAY?
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
"Is Bucky as bad as Steve?" Tony asked, his tone serious; but it was all too obvious he was being an ass. "Like, for instance, is he as screwed up as ole Spangly?"
"Define ‘screwed up,’" Piper said, her voice carrying a slight tone of regret at her own request. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what Tony thought of Steve; he had called him "ole Spangly," after all. "Are you talking about emotionally?"
mxsterofmachines started following you
It had been such a pleasant day… No fights in the club, no jerks pestering him, no work the next day so He could stay until late. The god was so happy that he had stop for a tea and some pastries before going home, not caring about the punctual bad looks because of the make up or the boots and fishnets peeking out from under the coat. His usual spot was empty and the bartender had remembered the extra sugar without him telling a word. yes… Good times… Until something resembling an elvish doombot had crashed through the wall and into his table.
The other costumers had began to yell and run, the bartender was scared out of his mind and sounds of fight reached his ears. What kind of psychotic mind would attack at 6 at the morning? What was wrong with supervillans those days?
He pecked through the hole in the wall just in time to see the last doombot being pumeled into the ground by familiar blue light… No, it couldn't be... The good looked up to find an expresionless, metalic face pinted at him… Damn, he was so fucked…
mxsterofmachines
"Well, then — you should definitely thank your brother. And hey! College buddies! I went to MIT, too. I have a sweatshirt that says MIT. It’s too small."
"I have..several times." She nodded a little, finishing up the hack on her tablet. "I have a sweater as well, I prefer my Oxford one personally, Mr. Stark. I could however make rather good use of your too small sweatshirt."
Miss samus, how have you been?
Huh? I’m sorry, but do I know you? You certainly don’t look like anyone I could have run into before.
But I guess I’m…okay?
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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✺ ( mxsterofmachines )
" This conversation is absolutely thrilling."
Open to Tonys
mxsterofmachines, billionxre, kneel-to-the-playboy, theprxdigalsxn, theevilstark, ferrodonna, mrironmantonystark, sciencexbrosxonly
Darcy had plenty of experience with people who got so caught up in their work they would forget to take care of themselves or leave their lab for days. So when she realized that she hadn’t seen Stark in a couple of days, it was practically second nature for her to get a cup of coffee and a package of pop tarts and head down to the workshop. She knocked on the door when she got there and gave it a second before opening the door anyway and walking in.
“Hey,” she said, walking over to where Stark was and setting the coffee and pop tarts down within arms reach. “Thought you could use these.”
"Tony, were you listening to anything I just said?"
