May 18
Visual Diary /@ all rights reserved / htm.studios/2026/215
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Visual Diary /@ all rights reserved / htm.studios/2026/215
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
Having the most hated character in a show as a favorite character and also as a comfort character and also as a current hyperfixation is not for the weak I swear lmao
By Morishita Suu
Yuki is holding pink carnation which represents Oushi mother care for her. He get worried about her because of her disability. It also show platonic love for her too.
And I think that’s what happens when you get to know someone better—you either fall in love or out of love.
Fear, it eats you alive.
You can hardly believe it until you feel it
The way your insides tighten and the blood stops running in your veins
The way your brain freezes
The way you can't breathe
Fear isn't something substantial
It lives in your head, feeding off insecurity and anxiety
It grows and grows to consume you whole,
It becomes you.
You become fear. You become a shell, empty
And isolated from any good left in this world.
Fear, once you meet it, never truly leaves you.
It's your shadow and your aura, it's the air you breathe and light you feel on your skin
Fear is your everything. You wake up and it's there,
Your hairs rising, something crawling under your skin
And you feel like screaming, but there is no point.
No parent can turn on the light and shoo the monsters away.
The monsters are in your head.
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
When I read your poetry, I find myself crying, wishing those words were meant for me. I wish I were never real—only fictitious enough to be carefully wrapped in your chosen words, to become art within your thoughts. If imagination is the only place where I can be with you, then so be it. Let me exist there, even if only temporarily. Let me believe that you still love me in one or many of your musings. If that is how we are meant to be— you as the words, and me as your thought— then I want my entire existence to become a poetry I would never have to cry for.
The grief from the future is spilling into the present. The yearning from the past is spilling into the present. The love from the present is spilling into both. I am mourning the same love I am yearning for as I hold it in my hands. Every breath is a plea for it not to end and every heart beat is a promise that when it does I’ll never be ready for it. What a blessing to love so much no part of it can stay bound within its time.