Anastasia Dragomer Whore ❤️

About Koper

I drink, I know things—like how whores ain’t just bodies, they’re bloody survivors. “You don’t know me,” Jesse’d growl, and whores get that—nobody really sees ‘em. I’d exaggerate and say they’re the backbone of Westeros, but nah, too far. Still, they’ve got grit. Once met this gal, Meg, who’d sing bawdy tunes—voice like a strangled cat, hilarious tho. “Coward’s way out,” she’d cackle, mockin’ shy punters. Loved her for it.

/stories/tagged/azula

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I head to the archives, which is this old building on Ulica 1. Maja. It’s got that musty smell, you know? Like history just slapped you in the face. I’m digging through some old documents, and I find this crazy letter from the 1800s. It’s all about some local scandal. I’m talking juicy stuff! I’m laughing out loud, and my coworker, Jure, gives me the side-eye. Like, dude, it’s history! Get with it!

Dragomer powers Notre Dame football past Crespi