ok just real one real quick thingy: greer does like it rough in the sack. why? because the majority of her sexual partners ( excluding simon ) have been humans with nowhere near as much physical strength as she has. greer had superhuman powers before she became tigra, and gained even more after that. she has to hold back a lot. so you betcha she’s gonna lose her gd mind if someone just starts yanking shit.
Strictly Drama As Ben Cohen’s Estranged Wife Wants Kristina Rihanoff SACKED
Hold onto your sequinned dresses and Lycra shirts, as it’s all about to kick off in the Strictly Come Dancing ballroom.
Former contestant and burly rugby fella Ben Cohen is a the centre of a HUUUGE domestic, after his estranged wife Abby has reportedly planned to take down love rival Kristina Rihanoff after rumours emerged that she was dating her fella.
And now she wants to get Kristina sacked from the show!
Awks for all. Copyright: [Instagram]
We’re giving tens all round for drama on this one.
It’s been alleged that infamous bear icon (so we’re told) Ben, has been having it off with Kristina for a good while now – despite denying any involvement for over a year.
Speaking to the guys and gals at The Sun, Abby’s pal revealed that the she’s PROPERLY fuming about it all:
“She is still furious with Kristina. She considered her a friend while Ben was on Strictly, so seeing them together now is absolutely heartbreaking. Kristina and Ben still insist nothing happened between them while on the show and say they only started seeing each other in recent weeks.”
It’s all that frigging’ gyrating, isn't it? Copyright: [Instagram]
“Abby is sceptical about that. She has told people close to her that she is going to do everything she can to get Kristina kicked off Strictly.”
The couple split last year, but have only just filed for divorce.
Sad times all round, folks.
Abby’s been pretty vocal on Twitter about it all, sending thinly-veiled tweets about ‘Karma’ to Kristina and posting lots of motivational quotes etc., but Kristina and Ben have stayed pretty darn silent about it all.
Delylah flat-out refuses to wear mage robes. She had to wear those potato sacks for over two decades, and now she wants to feel beautiful. Now she has amassed a collection of fine dresses, gowns, corsets, etc, and receives letters with designs from fashion designers on a regular basis. Everyone wants her to wear what they make.
Tamlen hates to wear the Skyhold pajamas. They’re too tight and impractical, the fabric is stiff and itchy and the first time he puts them on he feels as if he’s suffocating. One morning he just put his armor on instead and he was certain that one of the nobles whispered something like “savage” under his breath when he walked through the main hall dressed like that.
Later on he gets some other clothes that come closer to what he used to wear back with his clan but which could still be considered formal enough to be worn at court. But on that morning he had to muster all his strength not to punch some Orlesians in the face.
The cave was silent but for the crudely-made IV and Ru’yah pacing, arms crossed as she tried to determine why she wasn’t feeling as… energized… as she normally would after a feeding. This one was almost bled dry; his blood had a certain spice to it, a certain something. She suspected that something was why he looked so discoloured, now, even for an empty little sack of meat.
She’d removed his jacket and shirt, earlier when he first arrived – too eager to get a taste before the real feast began. Slicing up his neck, along his collarbone and ribs with her sharp fingernail had seemed to be a great idea at the time… a dessert before supper, if you will… Now he just looked pathetic, like an empty juice box or crushed can, ready to be thrown away and discarded. Her eyes trailed to where his wrists were bruised and torn, bound with rope – he was hung from the ceiling like a cow or a pig in a butcher’s shop. That’s all they were to her, after all. It was the ruby blood within she craved, laced with her poison…
The idiot hadn’t been much of a hunter, if that was what he’d really been. She’d found the stake wedged along a strap beneath his shirt. He’d obviously never encountered her kind before or simply didn’t know what was going on – no… this one was slipping away quietly in dreamland… Ru’yah’s lips curled into a viciously victorious smirk. She patted his cheek before walking around him and taking the meagre bag of blood from its hook, sipping at it as she awaited his death rattle. Oh, she wasn’t angry that he hadn’t been quite so satisfying – the craving was pleasurable. Perhaps she was a bit of a sadist, too. The idea of doing this again so soon was not one she flinched away from.