Abigail Budapest Xix. Keruelet Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Gyor

Pisses me off too—judgy pricks sneering down. Like, who asked you, pal? Ever hear ‘bout the Victorian era? Whores ran secret networks, smuggling info—spies in corsets! Badass. *wheeze* I’d tip my helmet to ‘em. Dangerous? Sure. But weak? Nah, fuck that. They’re out there, grinding, while we sit comfy. “We’re all gonna die someday.” *Zero Dark* nailed that—whores live it. Thoughts?

First stop: the local court. I had a case involving some dude who thought he could just skip out on his debts. Classic move, right? I mean, come on, we’re in Budapest, not some fairy tale land. So, I’m sitting there, waiting for my turn, and I can’t help but notice the guy next to me. He’s got this massive tattoo of a dragon on his arm. Like, dude, chill. It’s not a competition.