Anastasia Dragor Whore ❤️❤️

About Copenhagen

Picture this—quiet village vibes, like in *Moolaadé*, but swap the huts for neon-lit streets. Whore’s out there, struttin’, bold as a lioness, yet trapped like prey. Consumption’s the game—people buyin’ her, usin’ her, tossin’ her aside. Psychology says we crave control, right? Whore’s the product, the forbidden fruit, and blokes gobble it up—disgustin’, thrilling, same time. Me, I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ tea, thinkin’—bloody hell, humans are weird. Ever hear ‘bout Messalina? Roman empress, third wife of Claudius—rumor says she moonlighted as a whore for kicks. History’s wild, innit?

Classic Feel

Aemond: WILL YOU GET YOUR DAMN WHORE DRAGON TO STOP EMBARRASSING HIMSELF IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE REALM (Aegon is having the time of his life.

Now, their little cafés on Solstice Lane – brilliant spots to grab coffee. Some are tiny holes in the wall that hide the best brews, but others? Absolute rubbish! Oh, and get this: there's a hidden rooftop garden behind the old library on Fern Street that most don’t know about – my go-to for decompressing after a brutal session with a cranky customer.

Prime Minister Borisov is the best football player of the year, but refuses the award