when ur tryna save the world but homotron7000 is behind you
seen from Canada
seen from Russia

seen from Indonesia

seen from Australia
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from T1
seen from Canada

seen from China
seen from United States

seen from Switzerland

seen from United States

seen from Spain
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Switzerland
seen from Switzerland
when ur tryna save the world but homotron7000 is behind you

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
Night had fallen over Gotham, over Arkham, over the room where the doll called Jonathan Crane lay. The door is shut. Until it’s not. The knob turns with a soft click, and opens even quieter.
The man that steps in, footsteps as silent as he can manage, is not Dr. Arkham. No, instead it is the clown. Joker walks like a ghost, barely any sound heard as he makes his way to the bed. There’s no smile, no gloating, just a haunted look on his face as he gazes at Jon.
Jonny… ya gotta be faking. This can’t be real. C’mon, do something. Anything.
He whispers, as if the walls themselves could hear if he spoke too loudly.
Jonathan was a corpse. Alive… maybe. The open, broken blues of a polluted sea, mourning its life before humanity, staring into haunted greens. The ghosts of Chernobyl’s forest before nuclear forced brought red leaves proved that. … We have both been poisoned, haven’t we? There were tubes. An effort to keep the fact he lived, unchanged. So yes. Physically. He was alive. But by all other accounts? A rotting. Mouldy corpse. Growing little wriggly things. That crawl and dance. He did not move. He hardly seemed to even breath, each rise and fall of his chest shallow. Pained. Tears had stained pale cheeks. He had never resembled porcelain more. A pathetic shrine to terror. A waking, sleeping beauty.
Ur a lap dog and Ivan is dead, Angus is dead, who knows who will die yet...😛😛😛
y̶̢̢̨̧̨̧̡̧̢̡̡̢̛͔̲͎͍̩̦͇̥̺̯͎͖̠̦̘͚̘̘̯͓͔̜̞̳̜̩̰̘͎̦̫̖̭̪̣̦̰̻̙̟̙͙͈̩̤̣̹͙̲͎̬̝̙̤̼̘̠͓̗͓̪͎̮̘͖͇͕͇̱̲̜̣͙̜̥͚͕͙͍̖̤̫͉̻͈͖̤̠̼͙̣͔̦̞͈̤͍̙̗̞̘̟̗̥̮̮̮͇̹̗͇̫̞̥͖̐̈̌̃͑́̆̍̿̂͐̈́̿̋̅̍̋̽̾̀̔̈́̏̊̂͒̉̌͊̎̾͛̑́̅̈̈́̈́̆͒̓̄͗̾̿̓̋͂̀̿̊͘̚͘͜͜͝͠ͅͅǫ̶̨̨̡̡̧̡̛̛̛̦͕͕͎̭͉̼͚̜̤̦̱̣̥̰̣͖̤̼̟̥̤͇̯̺̱̖̣̣̪̻̰̭͕̭̪̰͖̻̥̳͓̝̘̺͍͙̣̜̞̼͔̦̮̺̣̼̼̠͉̖̹̤͕͈̌͛̓̋́̋͗͒̀͑͐͆̀́͒̏͒͌͑́̾̀͌̀͒͛͆̅́́͌͌̈́̔̽̍̄̈́́̌̎̊̄̌͆̒̽̄̐̏̀̊̀̐͐̓́͒́͂̑̅̈́̈́̈́̋̇̍̂̿͂͊͒͌͛̂̀̂̅̿͂̇̆͛͐̈͑̉̏͆̀́̑́̉́͗̓̅̀̇̀̅͒͌̾̎́̆́͑̿̐̓͒͐̀͘̚̕͘̕̚̕̕̚͘̚͜͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͝ͅű̴̡̢̢̧̧̡̧̢̡̢̧̨̢̞̭͖͖͈̗͖̺̩͇͎̫͖̦̰̦̲̱̖̱͔͓̰͍̠̥͇̫̝̫̫̱̤̝͕̬̠̘̲̠̲̹͔̩̤̞̹̳̝̖̙̭̲̜̥̥̱̳̤̫͎̲̫̠̰͈̦̝̝͕̝̟͈̖͇͇̻̗͓̖͙̟̗̪͖̫̖̪͓̝̳̹͎̬̳̱̜͚̳̰͖̲̹̳̀̈͌̿́̍͂̔͊͊̾̎̂̓̇̏̽͛̈́̔͛͛͑̋́̎̈́̆̉͆̿̍̎̔̔̈́̓͒̇͆̋̈́́̾̿̿̎̈͐͗̊̔̅̌͆̓͂̿̉̐̅̈́͛̓̋̈́̉̓͒̇̇̀̌̀̒̏̿͐̀̈́̾̈́̚̚̚͘̕͜͜͝͝͝͠͠͠ͅͅͅͅͅ ̵̧̧̨̧̨̡̢̧̧̛̬̫̤̙̖̞̦̻͓͇͔̯̯̭̤̤͚͇͍̗̗̝͎̜̰̹̩͎͓̘̮͙̼͇̬̞͖̰͉͎̯̪̼̞̻̘̩̬̪̣̜͉̻̼̺̬̱̭̖͖̪̤͓͉͓̲̟̭͚͙̲̝̲̘͉̻͔̻̝̫̘̖̂̎̑̋͂̔̉̊̈͐͛̍̀̃̈́̇̽̔̒̋͑͛̓̂̓̔̒͂̐̓̑̓͂͑̓̇̉̎̓͊́͒͆̽͌̅̽̒͑͐̉̓͘̕̕̚͜͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅw̵̢̢̨̛̖͙̩͔̖̯̭̼̱̺̣̬̝̹͎̰͙̻̺͚̪̦̞̺̰͔̟̙̺̜̻̯̪̞̙̙̳̟̲͔̬͓͉̣̖̣̪̤͎͖̠̬͓̼̳̺̯͖̮̪̠̜̦̹̟̞̯͇̣̳̖̺̬̲̞̞̰̰͕̰̖̪̔̇͑̒͑̀̍̌̾͋̅̏̀̋̿̿̈́̔̒͒̍̄́̇͗̏̔͐̉̉́́̂͒̂̎͋̓̈́͋͂͌͑̏͐̑͐̋̀͊́̆̈́͛͌̐͌́͐̃̽̂̂̌͂̈́̇̀͊̀̏̾̾́̇̔̃̍̍̃̓͗͐̋̆̽̋̎͒̽̂͒̾͘͘͘̕͘̚͜͝͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅͅị̸̢̨̢̡̨̨̧̧̡̡̨̢̛̞͚̘̱̙̖͈̘͕̦̪̠͚̣̞̣̙̦̭̜̘͕̣̘͎͍͈̗̪̙̭̹̹̮̣͇͙͕̣̺̦̙̲͚̝̯̦̙̙͍̖͕̪̘̥̲̤̼̺͍̩͔̯̼͔̻̜̤͙̠͓̪͕̝̳̲͓̙̬̭̪̱̫͍͕̰̹͍̼̥͇̙̺̖͖͓̹̙͔̘̠͖͇̤̱̤̥͕̻̻̞͇̹̜̳̯̆̽̈́̀̇̌̓̈́͑̐̋̑̄̆̓̎͑̀̈́͋̀̈͑̓̀̍͐͂̄̉̏̏̅̏̂̽͐͒̒̈̈́͊̇̇̿̓̅͐̃̈́̃̊̍̉͆̓̕̕̚̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅl̷̢̢̡̞̠̭̦̼͖̜͉̻̙͎̞̟͕̩͎̪̦̟̺̣͎̞͔͔̺͖̻̹̦̳̦͕̭̥͚͍̫̻͇̥̠̪͎̦̟̪̦̙̥̜̙͚͍̞̤͉̣̤͕̤̑̉̑͛̒̑̊̊̈́͆̈́́͆͆̍̂̄́̈́̀̓͗͆̑̀̂̚͘̚̕̕͘͘͜͜͜ͅl̵̛̛̛̦͉̺̟͑̐̇̔̈́͒̇̐̆̊̃̓̑͗͑̆̈́̾̏̉̈́́́́̿̓͂́͆̍̈́̃̀͒̌̽͊͌͗͊̉̍̋̔̉̒̅̌̅̄̋͘͘͝͠͝͠͝͠ ̵̢̢̡̡̨̨̡̧̡̢̡̞̝̬̼̱̻̰̪̲̙̫̳̣͓̝̺̞̙͈̪̰͇̦̹͓͉̹͕̻̮̤͈̞̺͙͔̻̹͎̱̱̞̤̙͇̰̠̣̰̻͇̦̦͚̳͙͕̯̣̦͔̬̱̖͇̟̼̙̗̳͕̮̮̘̘̱̱̙͙͎̫̝̩̘̯͎̥̝̮̭̹̜̤̠͙̲̣͙̜̥͎͔̮̫̼͖̳̳͙̼͎͓̱̱͙̣̣̲̘̳͓͈̠̝͑̌̽́̽̈́͂̓̾͆̀͋̊̂͊̓̊͗̔̈́̏͗͆͌̔͒̌͂̇͌̊͂͜͜͝ͅͅͅḑ̴̧̡̧̨̡̡̨̧̢̨̧̡̛̛̛̛̛̺͖͓͈̜̗͕̪̝̤̠̗̝̣̖̥̱̱̻͍̺̥̱͕̞̤͔͖̲̹̣̟̹̯̭͈̫͕͎̰̯͈͕̜͎̪̖̩͙͇̥͇̻͕̟̹̮͎̹̣͚̹͔̼̹̲͉̜͓̞͉͓͓̮̞̱̣̣̪͈͔̘̜̼̖̗̰̦͙̞̤͚̖̖̭̮͙͎̰̥̭̠̯̘͚̤̩̙̝̖̬̻͕̮͔͎̥͕̲̻͍̟̺̗͚̜̯̟͖̭̤̲̙̮̰̮̍̓̈̐̉́̔͂̀͂̏̽͂̍͌̾͗̾̂̑̓̈̔̀̐͐͆̍̓̿͋̀̎̊̿̀̈́̀͗́͒̾̀̍͋͑̈́̎̿͌̓̀̏̇̿̅̐͑̿͐̌̔̆̅́͒̕̕̚̚̕͜͜͜͠͝͝͠͝͝͝͝ì̶̡̧̡̡̨̧̨̢̧̨̧̢̛̛͉̮̠̣̲̤̙̯̪̤̘̣̞͈̜̻̼͉̘̫̣͍̰̰̥͎̼̜̪̗̥̫͔̻̻̥̜̙̗̞̣͇̺͚̺͍͓͚̹̳̺̘͚͙̤̥̳͚̤̜̥̳̭̥̞̗͙̘͔͓̟̱̗̜̯̥̼̘̦͔̺̬̬̤̩̥͕͖̤̪̜̙̝̮̣̫̦̼̗̩͖̞͖̜̹̪͖̹͍̤̣̩͓͔̹̝͔͔̲̟̙̳͍͕͇̥̩͈͍̣͚̩̼̺̞͖̓͋͐͛̋̀̍̽̌̓̆́̃͑̔̂̈́̈̌̓̎̇̏̈́͛̀͌̏̽̌̊̍̀͗͊̒͌̒̆̃̚̕͘͜͜͜͝͝͝͠͠͠ͅͅe̷̡̧̧͓̖̠̗͔̳̠̜̖̞̱̥̞͕̱̬̘̺̼̗͓͔̪͕̖̳͛̽͊͛̉̇̊̒̾̅͛̑͂̇̆͑̂̈́͌́͐̊͌̅͂̊͐͒̾͌́̉͗͐̄̌̏͛̈́̀̔̒̃̈́̊̄̎̆͗̓͘̚͘̕͝͝͠͝ͅͅ ̴̨̧̧̨̛̛̛̛̬̥̫̠̱̤̭̹̳͈̱̱̼͖̰̹̣̪̲̭̗̼͎͎͙̞̗̤͇̺̮̞̫̝͚͚͖͖̭̞͇̪͉͚͔͓̞̲̹̼̘̝̊̎̎͂̍̇̓̾̌́̀̅̉̂̋̄̆̔͐͛̇́̓͆̑̐̾̑̊̓̈́̑̆̿̀̄̈́̆̾͒͗̐̑͑̀͛̏̔͑̂̃́͑̅̈́͗̉̃͛̍͒̆̀̓̉̅̿͒̎̍̄͋̾̆̉̓́̆͆̈͊̽͒͌͋̂̂̌͒̎̾͒͊̍̅̇̒́̀̿̍͊̈́̂̾̄͐̊́̈́̽̔̓̂̓̓̅̄̄͌̆̆̈́̈́̀̕̕̕̕̕̚̚̚̕̕͘͘̚͝͝͝i̶̧̛̜͎̰͚͛͆̆̎̓̑̒͌͐̓̏͗̊̾͗̅͒́̆̆̀̔͑̔̏͗̐̂́͛̊̾͒̿̐͋̃̈́́͋̎̐̈́͗̐́͐̓̆͆̽̄͂̐̊͆̿̒̏̈͐́̃͒̿̀̈́̾̊̋́͆͒̏̒̐͛̑̒̉͐̉̒̏͘͘̕̕͘͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅn̷̢̡̧̨̧̨̨̡̨̛̛̛̘̹̺̥̬̯̙̣͕̝̫͖̪͙̞̤͖̞̥͍̰͇͉̘̺̮̼̝̼̬̳͎̪̭̤͕͎̻̺͕͖͍̗̘̣͈̖̦̗̪͙̯̩̜̱͖̖̜̲̫̰̳͔̩̠̥̖̫̙͕͈̦̻̪̩̟̳̟̙̻͈̙̲̗͇̙͍̞̼̠̪͓̝̖̜̖̮͚̰̪͉̖̠͚̬̩̤̟͂͑̅̔̀͐̑̽́̀̾͑͊͛̂̑̈̈̔̊̔̃̽̋̃̎̀̑́͋̔̏͊̓͌̆̀̀͌̑̊̇͊̽͆͊̽̿͑͂̑̌̓̏̊́͑̔̎̓̈́̔̓̋͐̓̓̾̇̐̐͆̀̍̉͂̾͋̀̿́͂̑̔̋̑͆̀́̿͆̈́͆̎͗̈́́̎̒͋̇͛̇̈́́̇́̂̉̉͊̓̓̋̏͛͒̄̈̒͒́̒͆͗̓͋̕͘̚̚̚͘̚̚̚̚͘͘͜͜͜͠͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͝ͅ ̵̡̨̨̧̨̨̢̨̢̡̨̡̢̛̛̦̺̘͙̯̭̲͚̣͍͔͍̼̰̳͎̯̰̥̙̘̭̲̭̙̯̼̜̜͔̯͔̘͕͈͙̬̞̤͖͍̮͕̝̝͙̹͖̙͇͔̲͍̠̜̼̼̭͙̯̱̩͕̼̱̼͍̖̙̥̥̣̘͓̦̻͚̬̱͙̭̗̪͍͓͉̼̰̗̦̲̩̫̰̹̖̤̗̦̦̭̲͉̗̻͉̖̲̮̻͈̙͙͍̰̺͔͉͔̝̼̠͓̣̯̪͔̱̦̹̯͒͊̿̂̎͒͜͜ͅͅͅͅ3̸̡̧̧̧̡̡̨̨̧̢̢̛̛̛̛̛̛̣̩͓̠̥̳̬̗̯͕̱̜̬̺̙̰̲̠̲̰͉̥̜͇̘̘̼͔͇̞͈̬̩̪̟͚̠̯͔̯̻͓̲̥͉̥̝̤̼̲͉̬̱̠̦̼̦̥͇̠̖͍͖̦͚͖̱̼͈̱̈̅̈͂͌̂̾͑̎̃̆̿́̒̍̀̽̓̀̀͗̍̇̈́̄̈͋̂́̾̂͛̑̒͗͐͌͒͒͛͐͌̍̅̏̑̃̏̋̉̀́̃͌̑͐̂̐͆̃̔̆̅̀̾͑̾̔̆̌̍̓̊̓̊́̐̎̀͒̾́̄̃͋̅̃̓̇̀̑̾̃͛̅̈́̔̌̈̐̒̏̀͆̅̕͘̕̕̚͘̕̕͘͝͠͝͝͠ ̸̡̧̛̛̛̛̛͎̮̼͕͈̪̤̣̄̈́͊̈́̑̆͆̌̐̉̆̌̌͒͛̑̆̎̒͑̇̌̀̓̈́̇̓̉͑̃͆͗̅͂̾͑̈́̈́̇́̈́̀̓̓̂͋̇̓̄͗̃́́́̓͊̋̒̃͊͑͊͋̋̀͑́̌̏̀̈́̒͛͐̉͋̒̓̇̎̐̆̐̒̇̄͋̄͗̓̅͋̌̄̃͋̿̕̚̕̕͘͘͘̕̕͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͠͝ͅd̷̨̨̧̡̢̡̡̨̨̡̨̖͈͇̘̬̫̝̰͉͓͙͉͇͕͎͙̣͔͍̯͖̜̯͎̖̳̺̦͚͚͇̲̜̪̰͔̮̜̥̹͈͙̜̼̩͉̳̠̺͚͔̥̲͇͖̭̟̼̩̣͍͈͎̰̠̔͋̑̎̆̾̈́̾̔̀̈̎̍̅̃̒̏̎̈́̓̇̆̈͂̏̀̎͗̽͐̾́̾́͆͋̏̈́̔̍͊͆̾̀́́̕̚͠͝͝͝͝ả̷̡̢̢̧̡̢̬̮͖̘͓̳̳̙̱͓̙̣̰̲̮̳̺̞͖̬̫̞̪̱̼͑̏͒̀̊̃́̀̽̈́̀̈́͌̿͌̑̀́́̎͒́͗̋̉͋̈́̋̔̈́̔̿̌́͆̾̃̇͗́̀̉̈́̇̕͘̕͝͝ẙ̸̨̡̡̨̧̢̨̛̭̞͈̹͈̝̪͕̜̙̥̱̺̝͔͍̼̜̯̬̹͔͕̗̝̖̳͔̘͓̠̝͖̙̹̱̣̦͚̼͍͈͓̼̥̜̞̗̮̼̜̻̪̜̮̠͉̱̥̱̩̝̮͔͙͖̰̱̘̯͈͇̞̝̘̠͚͎̬͚̜̬͖͙̪͉̰̫̫̱̞̹͖̻͇͚̥̤̯̹̣̙̣̫͈̦̟̣̲͕̼̠͉̟̲̖̦̩͙̾̀̅͑̅̋̓̃̈́͋͊͋̃̓͌͛̔̔́̒͛͛͛͆͑͒̿̓̃́̽̀̒̿͋͛̈́̇̆͊͒̾̈́̐̑̌̀̅̾͗̔̒́͆͛͂͋̀̏̀̃̃͆̎̓̓͆̐͐̈̎̈̎̅͑͊̇͑̔͒͐͐̓̃̿̉̍̅̓̒͂͑͛́̆̔̍̿̈́͂̈́̇̿͂̑͑͒̋̂̈̈́́̋̈́́́̚̕͘̚͘̕͘͘͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅș̴̡̡̢̛̪̯͔̳̭͓̞͇̟̱̭̠̫̙̞͎̯̳̞͎̼̺̩͈͓̰̥̼͎̓̍̒̓͌̄̇͋͒̊̈͆̓̌̇͋͒͆̌͌̈́͗̅̔̐̑̋̈́̈́̌̿͌̋̀̌̔̌̐̈́͂̑͑̓̄́̋̄͊̓̏̄̔̇̓͐̾̀͑̉̍͒̂̅̍̍̋̋̑̽̑̈͑̈́͗̏̆̉́̽͆́́̃̆̓̓̚͘͘͘͘̚̕̕͘͘̕͠͠͝͝͝͠
The thing you guys don’t know about the dylarrison scarf is that they used it to forcibly tie John Lennon and Phil Ochs to the cuck chair
the first and only time someone reposted my art was back in middle school when i drew hooty from the owl house with poorly drawn, taped on muscular arms as a JOKE and someone put it in a thirst trap comp with genuinely drawn muscular hootys

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
Typa shit i find while checking pinterest and watching a horror iceberg about some "sad satan" ass game from the deepweb 💔💔 YALL WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PHOTO, is like, weird or smth while i was posting this..
whos gonna be the victim 😋🍴
dawn
loop