#prostetution

[cvlutos]

TWISTED WONDERLAND: MOULIN ROUGE

WARNINGS: Dark Content | Sexual Themes | Implied Prostetution | Violence | Yandere | Etc. | Proceed with Caution Dearest. | Inspired By Lovely @elenamegan14, who I absolutely adore.

═ PROLOGUE ═

DEAREST ARISTOTLE FAMILY,

Hello Aristotle Family, I have received word that your father, James Aristotle, has passed, truly a sad day and I give you time to grieve. Yet time is money and I fear that a certain family, your family to be exact, is still quite indebted to me. I do send my condolences. Though fear not, it is not much I desire from you, dear Aristotle family.

I ask for your eldest child to be sent to NRC and aid me. You needn’t know why, but they will indeed be safe. All that the eldest needs to bring are whatever they desire. Shelter and all other needs will be provided. Within this envelope contains a special boating ticket and I do hope you do not lose this. I expect the eldest child to arrive before the end of fall.

I’ll Be Waiting,

DIRE CROWLEY

Pulling the fabric of your thick coat closer to your form, your luggage trapped between your legs as your sit on the deck of the large ship. It’s crowded, all eager to board off the boat and onto what one would consider paradise island. It’s dark and unseeable. Yet the anticipation is tastable, like fresh oranges, and you can already taste the citrus without having to bite it. We all sit in the dark, for the inside of the boat is only for the rich, nobles, and royalty. Not poor underdressed commoners. With little to their name. We are forced to be outside like dogs. The sun set hours ago, and the moon missing as if stolen from the sky. The only thing illuminating the path is the ship lights at shine onto the fog-covered ink of the ocean.

Consider yourself lucky.

A letter was sent from none other than Dire Crowley, owner of NRC. Night Raven Club or Night Raven Coterie. It rests heavy within the inside of your coat, as do the thoughts of worry and fear in what you have to do for Dire Crowley. NRC is a notoriously dangerous, yet lavish place, having been around for generations. It’s also known for draining the very pockets of men and women alike, leaving those same men and women begging for scraps along the island, begging to be able to get back into the club, like drug addicts going through withdrawals. Until the next boat arrives to take them home. Though most go kicking and screaming, dragged onto the ship. Yet the boat itself is unpredictable and unreliable. Once you’re on the island, you can’t get off, at least not easily.

People have gambled away all they have and all they are. Truly a dangerous place.

Consider yourself one in a million.

Crowley had sent you a special invitation, promising a beautiful bedroom for your stay, for as long as you carried out whatever he needed to be done. Though, this letter wasn’t for you directly, but for your family. Due to your father, a man who so desperately sold off almost everything to NRC, leaving his wife and children in ruins, and went crawling to Crowley for it all back. Your father believes Dire Crowley to be a kind man. A very kind, gracious man, that understands and is oh so forgiving. So Dire Crowley did what your father asked, gave back all that your father foolishly lost. Though not without something in exchange. Your family would forever be indebted to the man named Dire Crowley, and would do all he needed to be done when he asked. A deal could last generations if Dire Crowley so wished.

Your father has passed. Escaped the consequences of his actions, so you, as the eldest, must do what your father can’t.

Night Raven Coterie.

The Club of Twisted Imagination.

It’s a name everyone knows. A name that you either despise or worship. Like a whiskey that burns your throat when you drink it, so painful, but so good. It’s a name that lulls you into eternal sleep. That burns your skin worse than that of the bluest flames. That poisons you and kills you. That leaves you stranded in the desert with nothing but the clothes on your back. That drags you into the deepest parts of the ocean or lures you into the hungry den of lions. Or a heavy collar that restricts who you are.

With its great seven-standing beauties and the poor souls trapped within its confines. Unable to escape. Unable to ever be free.

══════ ♡ ══════

Heartslabyul.

Strictness.

Order. Order. Order. Rules. Rules. Rules. Nothing more. Nothing less. This club room is almost as twisted as the island. With 810 rules, written and posted on the walls before you enter the room that rests beyond the crimson-red door. Tables and chairs were all placed orderly, with red painted roses in the center. It’s almost like a never-ending tea party. All were directed towards a stage of checkered patterns of red and white, with heavy velvet curtains hiding the stage. Til the exact moment, exactly with the clock, do the curtains open.

The Queen’s Arrival.

Riddle Rosehearts, The Red Rose Tyrant.

Short in stature but large in presence. A boyish, arrogant look as he entertains and dances across the stage before strutting down the catwalk and onto a smaller circular stage. Closer to you. Closer to the rich and desperate people. Begging to be hit by his leather riding crop, begging for him to look down on them with a sneer. He’s alluring, sweeter than the sweetest tart, and scolding like freshly brewed tea. He’s merciless. Unforgiving. Bad-Tempered. Selfish. Spoiled. A sadist that ties sinful men and women to their chairs and punishes them. He’s cruel and all things within that room, behind that door, the door in the color of blood-painted roses, must be orderly.

══════ ♡ ══════

SavannaClaw.

Perseverance.

Wild and Free. Bathing in the coolness of the Savanna freshwater springs. It’s loud and in constant motion. It’s rowdy and not for that of fate of heart. A more hands-on experience, with colors of browns and yellows. With floral from the savanna decorating the hot and steaming room, it’s the perfect place for fights. For arguments. With no tables or chairs, most men and women find themselves staring up at the stage, bodies close and compact. Like an herd a suspecting prey. Until a sudden roar sends everyone into a frenzy.

The Roar of a King.

Leona Kingscholar, The King of Beasts.

With a cocky smirk and emerald eyes, he stalks onto the stage. Displaying nothing but power. Nothing but strength. Barely dressed with anything, yet leaves you begging for more. Pleading for the lion beastman to drag you onto stage and ravish you. He dances feverishly and leaves you stubbing out the door, or passing out amongst a wall, drenched in sweat. He’s confident, so cocky in his position as Prince. Ordering you to follow and listen, and you do. He’s the bad boy, a predator to prey. The lion hiding within the tall grass. There are no rules in the savanna. There are no rules. Once you open the burnt yellow-colored door, any and all could happen. Only pray that you survive.

══════ ♡ ══════

Octavinelle.

Benevolence.

Deep and cool within the darkest depths of the ocean. Of smooth jazz and a nightclub atmosphere. Soft lighting and candles. Many call this the Mostro Lounge, though the clubroom has its special performances. Most times, it has an average audience. A break from the other rooms of NRC’s the Great Seven, a place of twisted relaxation that comes with a price. Soft cushioned seats, all well dressed, well behaved, till the siren sound begins and comes the beauty of the depth.

The Emergence of the Sea Witch.

Azul Ashengrotto, The Deep-Sea Merchant.

Seduction at its finest. An alluring smile and charming voice, as if had eight arms that pulled you onto the stage. His moves hypnotizing as he gracefully moves across, like a fish in water. Simple, soft, seductive. Drowning in the embellishments of his voice, till you, his chosen one makes it onto stage and he dances around you. Constricts you in the tentacles in this voice, luring you into false, calm waters before the climax. A loud symphony of instruments and heat. Like the arrival of a new storm. The only thing that can save lies within a golden contract, one in which you only have to sign your name. All this lies within the deep, lies behind the lilac purple door.

══════ ♡ ══════

Scarabia.

Mindfulness.

Energetic. A party all day, every day. A truly freeing place that makes you want to do nothing but dance and jive. But to dance and spin around several unique dance partners. Or sing and listen to the various instruments, from the thrumming of drums to the strings of guitars. The smell of the sun and the taste of spice, the sound of jewelry being thrown and forgotten, till you dance and find yourself naked. Your clothing and all your money gone from you. Til none other than the diamond in the rough appears.

Like the sound of sand in an hourglass,

Kalim Al-Asim, The Cave of Wonder’s Diamond

All that is left behind disappears into the sand of the fourth room. As the sway of energetic hands and hips brings you into a hypnotizing stare, as he moves across the room, with a smile on his face. He has an innocent aura, but aside from the overly friendly touches, he doesn’t seem all that innocent. He gives you all you desire; all that you want and beg for. You’ll forgive him for all that’s stolen. With desperate hands and desperate voices, begging him to do this and to dance this way, he obeys. Like a mouse, ready to be swallowed by the snake. Greed to appease you all. All awaits you within the land of sands, behind the door of orange.

══════ ♡ ══════

Pomefiore

Tenacity.

The room of pure perfection and poison. Of dark violets and bold red. With nothing, the smell of intoxicating perfume and caramel apples that were to die for. Everything within this room is beautiful. So perfect. With little room for sitting, but all the room for an enormous stage and a special performance for those who could afford it. Not just anyone can waltz into the room of beauty, it’s come with a deadly cost, and the beauty will get what is owed.

A Poisonous smoke that chokes you.

Vil Schoenheit, The Fairest Queen.

Slow. Seductive. Like aphrodisiacs had been pumped straight into your veins as he sings. It’s hot, as have you squirm in your seat, gasping for air, for relief at any movement he makes. Any roll of his hips, the dragging of his hands, the deepness of his voice. Yet you feel tied to your sit, unable to move as he poisons your very blood. Mirrors placed all across the room, showing you your own patheticness as you watch him dance. As you lean into his tempting touch only for him to pull away and the intoxicating show to end and you must leave the room behind the door of dark purple and deep red.

══════ ♡ ══════

Ignihyde.

Diligence.

A room of technology. Yet never the main show. Don’t expect much when arriving, for the main show never seems to appear. It’s a dead room most nights, with only a few there to sit and relax in silence. Now don’t be mistaken. An audience waits on his beck and call, waiting souls for the moment he announces he desires to perform. On the nights he does, it’s packed, people upon people, pushing and shoving to get a glimpse of him.

The Cries of the Dead.

Idia Shroud, The King of the Underworld

Like cries and mourning of the King of the Dead, begging for just a small feeling of his leather boots, just to slightly touch. As he degrades his audience for being so desperate for him. Deep and brooding, hot and heavy. It’s loud and last hours before it dies down and he once again retreats. Spending most of his time entertaining his fans with calls and private appearances. Truly a costly performance. One that you will pay with your life behind the door of blue.

══════ ♡ ══════

Lastly, Diasomnia.

Nobility.

Truly a hard room to find. Only those that are deemed worthy can find the door of green and watch what happens beyond. With candles of green flames and music that feed on you, leave you drowsy. Slumping in seats, allowing whomever to do what they please with you. Though the room is classy, truly the place of nobility, as the sound of trumpets brings your attention to the stage.

The Royalty of a Dragon.

Malleus Draconia, The King of Briar Valley.

It’s stranger than most. Whether he chooses to do an alluring dance or to sing into a mic. Maybe he’ll choose to play the violin, or simply read a book. Anything he chooses to do with being done gracefully. And be completely unforgettable. Treating each of his guests like royalty, treating each of them like prized treasure in his cave. He’s loving, yet so fierce. Yet not a sight for just anyone. You must be lucky. Special. One in a Million to find the door of green and push past painful thorns.

══════ ♡ ══════

Prepare yourself, [Name] [Surname] of the Aristotle Family.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited

[autistfanatic]

In another universe, Hell is a plane of actual punishment, and has way stricter rules made by the king and his council/'overlords' that he selected because of their level of abilities that may serve him in the Coming of the End of Days/Battle against Heaven, to finish what he started. (Instead of goofy, silly, or duck obsessed, hes serious, manipulative, and constantly puts Charlie down for not living up to his ideals)

Charlie doesn't WANT the End of Days to happen and structers up a sanctuary or hotel, for neutral parties as a middle finger to her father.

Lilith is busy with training in magic and defense against Angelic weapons or attacks so has very little time for Charlie.

Alastor sees the hotel and wants to exploit Charlie for his own gain and to schmooz his way to the throne by being her friend and possibly potential partner to marry into the Morningstar Family.

Vaggie was a prostetute, and an assassain who once worked for Alastor because he saved her life and she was in his debt.

Angel joins the hotel to escape Valentino and Vox

And Husk joins to avoid another war due to trauma of the Nam war.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

What do you think Beast/ Dragon Gai did before he was turned into a dragon? I can think of three possibilities but... you may balk at the third one XD;

1.) A warrior. But... he'll already be a soldier in another life, and it's cooler to think of him having different occupations until his final life, where he got seduced back onto the farm by his very lovely husband~

2.) A monk. It has everything Gai encompasses. Martial arts, spiritual training, advanced connections and stories about the gods. I could definitely see him being a little too competitive and high energy for a lot of them, while still excelling in most of their teachings.... can't tell a single one of his coworkers (is that the right word?) apart though. Face blindness + uniforms + exact same hair/baldness, does not make an easy time for Gai XD;;;

3.) This may sound crazy, but hear me out... a prostitute. Like I think back to the ancient story of Gilgamesh where one of the greatest prostitutes ended up helping save the world and just... he has such great skills with a staff because of his profession. He has an intense pride in his body because so many desired it. And he also trained in self defense to keep his co-workers and himself protected. (Also high end prostitutes were skilled in MANY things. Communication. Dance. Art. Entertainment. I could see him using martial arts he learned to entrance his clientele).

Also...imagine Madara's face when he learns it was not a grand warrior in the traditional sense who stood up and ultimately bested him, but the greatest prostitute who ever lived!!! Depending on how puritan the timeline gets, that little detail maaaaybe removed from the story/ history books. (Also explains Gai's so depressed when he's turned into a beast).

But yeah what's your head canon?

I’d probably go with the third option largely cuz ya, it would piss Madara off even more and i find that hilarious XD he was expecting a great warrior, but instead he got a great warrior prostetute.

Amazing.

Also Gai being upset for the first week because obviously he had a certain living he can no longer continue, but having people venture all the way up the mountain to leave offerings at the cave entrence

Madara thought him changing Gai into a beast would lead to him being shunned from the village, but instead the villagers bring him thanks and ask for his continued protection for any danger.

Bringing him his favorite foods, and even making a new dish (curry) to celebrate his colorful fighting and his different techniques he used to defeat Madara.

Also i choose not to have it be a shunned profession because screw that :) maybe one day it is and someone does try to take it out of the stories, making it out as if Gai was actually a great warrior of by he kingdom, but Jiraiya’s twins (who influence writers) make sure that is not the only history floating around, resulting in a divergent story that people are always arguing over.

[glacesadventures]

New Side-Story Concept

The story is nicknamed "Roxanne" for now and happens when Glace is a Mafia-righthandwoman. A friend of hers have been distracted lately.

The first sketch is the concept sketch of Glace's friend. She got a mechanical jaw after an accident when she served as a soldier. The other one is Mafia Glace again ofc-

The friend (F) tells her that she is distracted bc of her lover(L). (I put the letters behind friend and lover bc thats what I'll refer to them as for now since they don't have names)

L fled the battlefield to three days after he was forced onto it. He wanted to be an actor. Not a soldier. While F stayed he fled. Years later they meet again. F is glad L is okay, but L appears physically sick. Later, F finds out that L's job as an actor was never what he nor her truly imagined.

He was working as a prostetute.

F tells herself its fine and its only what L has to do to survive. His soul is her's. F still ends up being bothered by this. F is a member of Glace's Mafia gang and a friend of Glace so Glace agrees to try help L out of the gang and life he is in, even though he doesnt seem to want to.

How it goes?

It all depends on L.

There he is.

This was all inspired by "El tango de roxanne"

Harsh voice: Glace to L

Soft voice: F

"Roxanne": L

(this was the only vid with the whole thing and good audio that i found)

[misfortunesbride]

Holden Caulfield, probably:

[system-to-the-madness]

By your Side - Kaz Brekker x Reader - Masterlist (Finished Series)

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

AU: JordieLives!AU

Genre: hurt/comfort & angst to fluff

Word Count:approx. 35 000

Warnings: canontypical violence, blood, Kaz's trauma (-> Mentions of death and grief), injuries, angst, jealousy, alcohol, mentions of (child)prostetution (Inej's past), death (of an enemy), mentions of panic(-attacks), murder 

Summary: After you left the ship you spent the last years working on as well as your best friend Jojo, Kaz takes you in and makes you a member of the Dregs. The two of you seem to get closer over time, until Kaz recruits Inej, who you are convinced Kaz is in love with. When Jojo comes to visit several years later, unexpected discoveries are made and tensions arise.

Based on this post by @ilovemarvelanne1​

Chapter One - Reader

Chapter Two - Reader

Chapter Three - Kaz

Chapter Four - Jordie

Chapter Five - Reader

Chapter Six - Kaz

Chapter Seven - Reader

Chapter Eight - Reader

Chapter Nine - Kaz and Reader

Picture Sources (edited by me): Canal, Freddy Carter, Ship in Fog, Ship in Harbour, Church in Fog, Sails, Rope

[mssweatherweather]

ToG-Characters: Then&Now

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius

Adarlan's Assassin -> QUEEN OF TERRASEN

Dorian Havilliard

Crown Prince of Adarlan -> BADASS KING WITH MAGIC!!!

Chaol Westfall

Captain of the Guard -> Right Hand to the King of Adarlan & Ambassador of Terrasen!!

Rowan Whitethorn

Prince of Doranelle -> King of Terrasen

Aedion Ashryver

Adarlan's Whore -> General-prince of Terrasen!

Lysandra Ennar

A prostetute -> Lady of Carravere

Fenrys Moonbeam

Maeve's bitch -> Messager & Ambassador of Terrasen

Lorcan Salvaterre

Commander of the Cadre -> Lord of Perranth

Elide Lochan

"Weak girl","cripple" -> badass Lady of Perranth

Manon Blackbeak

Wingleader -> Queen of Crochans!(maybe Adarlan too)

Nesryn Faliq

City Guard -> EMPRESS OF ANTICA!!

Yrene Towers

Bartender with a dream -> Greatest healer alive, Lady of Anielle

Nox Owen

Thief -> Military Messager of Terrasen

Rolfe

Pirate Lord -> Heir to Mycenaeans

Ren Allsbrook

Hopeless rebel -> Lord of Allsbrook

-

And a tribute to the fallen ones:

Gavriel, the Thirteen, Sam Cortland, Nehemia Ytger, Sorscha, Connall Moonbeam, Kaltain Rompier, Elena, Roland Havilliard, Wesley, [not you, Arobynn], Ress, Brullo, even to the King of Adarlan

[the-swedish-berliner]

Paul McCartney after being asked if the song "Day Tripper" was about a prostetute and the song "Norwegian Wood" was about a lesbian.

-Well we just write songs about prostetute's and lesbian's.

And that's a real quote.

[letsbebisexualemos]

why is sex work so bad?

Okay so ive done alot of thinking lately. and i have come to the conclutsion that i would love to like work as a stripper for like a short amount of time. but if i do, i wont be able to do anything after. Like you cant get another good job. the same with prostetution or the porn industry. like even sending nudes. i wanna be a teacher. and if my nudes where leaked i would get fired. why is that. even if i took them now, and they leaked now, if the school i worked out found out they’d fire me? but they dont fire fucking preditors. like i just wanna live my fucking life. i wanna make decisions now that doesnt effect me later. i want to live my teen years and just fuck around and send nudes and do fucking sex work or something. its all legal so why cant teachers? teachers should only be fired if they did something bad. everyone send nudes. 97% of people have sex at least once during their life . UGH

[kenichito]

It’s just sits there talking to me from the shadows of my mind. Like a dark passenger warping my ideas. Not replacing them but making me see their dark aspects. I can’t keep fighting this fight. I feel weak and powerless to stop it. The lonelyness only makes it worse as everyone I trusted left. So I ask you the person reading this if this is the last post on this page do you even care or just scroll by and not think about it. I don’t know and honestly I don’t blame you it’s not on you. It’s on me it all is no matter how I see it or how much blame I try to place. I don’t know why all I think about is killing myself. When I’m alone with my thoughts that’s what comes out. That one resounding voice. I AM WORTHLESS. Like everyone I have regrets but some of mine have been dragging me underwater for most of my life. Things I don’t know how to talk about or even think I want to share but why do they sit there. I want to get lost in drugs and just fade away but every time I self destruct I wake up and realize it didn’t work. I feel so mad when I wake up. I think to myself do I just keep thinking to myself why don’t I just die. I’ve tried to overdose 3 times. Each time waking up in a daze and after the puking and hang over all I can think about is just trying again. The people in my life tell me that I’m took closed off to them but every time I try to get close to people they just look disappointed to find out who I am. I’ve been so far gone as to lose my virginity to a prostetute. I’ll never forget the words she said when I got there “this is something you can never take back”. Those words haunt me everyday. They float by and remind me what I’ve done. I’ve stolen, lied and cheated and now I can finally understand how little I really care about myself. I’ve fucked up my life in the worst way. I don’t really have the ways express this in real life but if you are here I just want you to know that in this life you can turn into someone you don’t recognize.

[ao3feed-erwinlevi]

by Winged_Wolf_Heart

Levi is a secretive creature; a cat which likes to come and go as it wishes, never to be asked where it had been and when it would be gone again.

Words: 5980, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Erwin Smith, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Kuchel Ackerman, Kenny Ackerman, Mike Zacharias, Nanaba (Shingeki no Kyojin), Eld Jinn, Oluo Bozado

Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith, Nanaba/Mike Zacharias

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Established Relationship, Humor, mentions of prostetution, eruri - Freeform

[meganomicsss]

Meganomics : Let's Talk

Let's talk about what barley anybody wants to talk about, Human Trafficking. Yeah i'm going there, this topic is so toxic and it shouldn't be beacuse it's happening around the world and even in the states.

Let's talk about Houston, being one of the cities with the highest area of prostetution and human trafficking. On January 24, the FBI raided brothels in Southwest Houston filled with girls young as 14 that were beaten and drugged. Then after this incident, it was later told that these trafficking acts was happening in plain site and nobody was noticing that was taking place. That's the problem, we haved to say something. Earlier in February, Houstonians had to become responsible for noticing sex trafficking victims and reporting it, but why is this still going on? Deputies from Harris County Sheriff's Officers arrested more than 100 sex buyers in January that passed dozens of law enforcement agencies which took part in a nationwide prostitution sting that was leading up to the Super Bowl. During Valentine's Day there was a press conference that was held when the announcemet of the operation was told. Capt. Jesse Inocencio stated "This should be a notice for sex buyers out there that you just may find your mug shot on the 5 o'clock news," Inocencio said. "Know that we are getting tough on enforcement and getting tough on prosecution." How? Human trafficking and Prostetution in Texas has risen drastically, it's because of immigrants and the large economy.

As shown in the media, human trafficking in Texas is shown as Mexican force laborers trafficked borders. On the site "Human Trafficking Search" Michelle  Lillie explains "Houston is home to almost 6,000 runaway minors and an estimated 1 in 3 runaways are lured in sex trafficking within 48 hours of running away from home...The largest population of youths at risk of being trafficked is centered in Houston, Texas". Just think how any young girl that could be walking down the sidewalk in Houston at anytime they could be taken at any moment, it's very scary. Lillie ended her article stating "The human trafficking epidemic has reached global proportions with the United States being one of the top destination countries for human trafficking victims".

[bullierofmine-blog]

Bullying

What is a bullying??? An example of that, when a person bash, back stabbed, or gossip of their places or other places. Then many people laugh at her/him that he/she didn’t know.

Like me, i am bullied of someone, they laugh at me because of my disability, and because i have a job. Other example, when i started an #onlineshop and upload my photo. Then said #sheisugly, most #terrible when i have a supplier of a branded stuffs, then bullied me, #ginawaakonngutusan. Then she post me a #scammer but i am not scammer. #VERYBASTARDWOMAN.

Another, when someone, said i am #prostetute, that i didnt do it in my entire life, because i am a graduate of a bachelor degree!!!…

By the way, insecure bashers, backstabber and gossiper of mine. Keep away from me. Go away, do want you want,

Forget me, i do my own, i love my life, and family, i love to live happy and relax.  

I dont want to see or talk to them, i want a #peacefullife.

NOTE: I give you once, not twice, nor trice.

[reshczuquescz-blog]

Bullying

What is a bullying??? An example of that, when a person bash, back stabbed, or gossip of their places or other places. Then many people laugh at her/him that he/she didn’t know. 

Like me, i am bullied of someone, they laugh at me because of my disability, and because i have a job. Other example, when i started an #onlineshop and upload my photo. Then said #sheisugly, most #terrible when i have a supplier of a branded stuffs, then bullied me, #ginawaakonngutusan. Then she post me a #scammer but i am not scammer. #VERYBASTARDWOMAN.

Another, when someone, said i am #prostetute, that i didnt do it in my entire life, because i am a graduate of a bachelor degree!!!...

By the way, insecure bashers, backstabber and gossiper of mine. Keep away from me. Go away, do want you want,

Forget me, i do my own, i love my life, and family, i love to live happy and relax.  

I dont want to see or talk to them, i want a #peacefullife. 

NOTE: I give you once, not twice, nor trice.

[sandrawoodk]

Black and White

I see you in black and white. I see you against a tall and narrow framed house; the type that were built in the 1920s and 30s. I picture you standing in front of the house that my grandfather and grandmother were married in. I see you in black and white, the monochrome that hides the fact that the shirt you wear is one hundred percent cotton and the pants are not pants but trousers and the smile you have on your face is sort of suppressed because in earlier, turn-of-the-century photos, no one ever smiled.

I see you in black and white because I so desperately want to. I want to stand there next to you in front of a small house with quarter paned windows that settlers would have thought folly and we think perhaps are, in the dead of winter. I want you there, our bare feet wedged against each other, and our skin the only heat we feel in the back bedroom. I want your hands in my hair telling me it’s okay, that I’ll be okay as we lock into each other in the making of another generation.

In my reality, however, I see in shades just less than Technicolor. I walk to work and I breathe into my thick, ninety percent cotton scarf. Just the right shade of pewter blue, it matches my eyes and I get a few stares or two. I have an ego. I wash out the scarf once a week in my studio apartment, washing away the faded but expensive perfume and I wash away my own respirations while walking to work during cold January days in Chicago.

A car back fires and people scuttle for cover and then we wonder at the thought that we pay taxes to send young people to die for others, and we die on the streets.

That’s when I see you in black and white.

I took down all of my art work and had the walls painted stark white. The land lord didn’t care, I pay my rent on time and he can see that I’m here for now with no intent go. I painted my walls and I hated to, but had to stay true, I painted my walls with dusty looking flat paint – the kind my grandparents used.

I dated a guy for awhile that works at the Art Institute. No, he isn’t a prig or overly anxious. Don’t be alarmed but I was in it so he’d help my hang my black and white photos.

He asked me why the frames. He knew a guy who could take my photos, enlarge them and really make them look like museum pieces; not be hemmed in by frames. No, I told him, no these are my relatives, they lived in North Dakota. They need frames, I tried to explain. Like the houses they used to live in. The frames contain them, their ideas and their thoughts so they won’t take off in a prairie wind and get lost.

He looked at me hard and then asked if I’d come to bed. Somehow I’d moved him and he was serious during sex. He’s telephoned a couple of times but the photos are all hung in their black and white glory so I don’t return his calls.

What time I have alone I think of you standing there next to me within the picture frame. The wind is caught in our photograph. You can see it in the background, pushing our hair out and away from our faces, moving the creases in your trousers just off center and wrapping my skirt around my legs. The wind never leaves the prairie, this I know for a fact and the wind must be guarded against.

I walked the old farm with my grandfather once. He was glad to be back in North Dakota. We walked and he showed me how to make gum from the heads of wheat and pointed out where great-grandfather’s farm house used to stand – the barn was still there. I was thirteen and that was the only time that year I forgot about myself, my chemically suppressed acne and the flabby bulge around my midsection that the pediatrician explained to my mother was caused by my “eating problem.”

I didn’t lose my virginity until I was twenty-five. I’ve told that to no one, until I told you. Okay that’s a lie I tell anyone I’m intimate with, you’re the only one who didn’t joke about how long it took me. And I did try. By twenty-three I swore I’d be celibate for the rest of my life. And then one night, in the library, I met a man. He would read there, in the library, and I noticed him to the point where we would nod and smile at each other in recognition.

He was twenty three years older than me, married and with three children. For a year we would meet at the library, walk to my place and fuck. It was intense and I don’t think he noticed that first time that I was a virgin. I cried when he left but the next week I couldn’t wait to see him. I felt that way for a year, a drive that never culminated in “I love you.”

He invited me to a dinner party. I was introduced to his wife and he smiled while we shook hands. He then started to introduce me to his friends and I could tell suddenly that I was being assessed. When I went to the open bar for a glass of sherry and stood off by myself his friends came up to me one by one. They were nice. Asked me for my number, said they appreciated someone clean, considerate, that they’d take care of me.

I, of course, am very careful but I do invite a few in, outside their circle. I keep my daytime job but I make sure they pay any out of pocket medical. There are some evenings I look forward to, with the select group, but not too often. I still feel at times that need, that drive, I felt at first. Yes I know, they may grow tired of me but they are growing older, I think, sooner than me. One night, the heaviest of them was working hard, sweating profusely, his hair, shocking white, hanging in his face moved to the rhythm of what he was doing and my Technicolor view suddenly went black and white.

I was suddenly struck with the thought of you, whoever you are, having a bad day on the farm, coming home to me, pushing up my thin cotton dress, holding me down on the sturdy kitchen table – just like this guy was doing – but I was on the prairie, where it mattered, where it worked.

One asked me, just the other day, if it didn’t bother me to have all these old black and white framed pictures looking at me while we “played.” No, I said, pulling at his tie, I’m working to return to the wind and wide open spaces my grandfather was glad to see but could never return.

- See more at: https://scriggler.com/DetailPost/Story/14612#sthash.Vlt7GJmk.dpuf