why is prostitution the only women’s issue where feminists are like “the world sucks it’s gonna exist no matter what we do… so better embrace it!” 

like u don’t say that about any other women’s issues?? when domestic violence was basically legalized in russia y’all weren’t like “makes SENSE gonna happen REGARdLESS” yall said it’s fucking disgusting to normalize violence against women & not do everything we can to stop it

Quiet, coffee-filled mornings before class with saucy notes on 16th century Venetian prostitutes = a good start to my day


Every Thursday, like clockwork, Will visits the Drake Hotel and goes to room 101. He lies down, takes off his clothes, and waits for the same greeting he receives each time. 

“You grow more and more lovely each time I see you again.” 

The words should not make him blush but they always do, the genuine flattery and not fakeness something he’s starved for in this business. 

“Hello, Hannibal.” 

The smile as Hannibal removes his clothes grows wider, never looking away from Will once even as Will rolls onto his belly to let his best customer view the merchandise. 

Because that’s what Will is: merchandise. 

He can’t fool himself into thinking otherwise, the feeling of them coming together is just sexual chemistry and the affection he feels for Hannibal as they tease each other after is just something he can’t give into. 

Hannibal is the only customer he falls asleep with, the only one Will feels comfortable beside, and when he wakes up to an empty bed beside him every Friday he tries not to feel abandoned. 

Transaction over. Merchandise procured, used, and finish with. 

They go through the motions of this for nearly a year before it all comes crashing down because Will takes a job someone else couldn’t. 

Lord how he hates bachelor parties. 

He hasn’t done one since he was young, too old for this shit but smiling fakely throughout. 

The voice is immediately recognizable the moment he hears it, Hannibal’s angry purr, “I see you’ve gotten yourself entertainment, Frederick.” 

Will stops his gyrating, smile vanishing upon seeing Hannibal’s darkened gaze. 

“A lot older than I wanted,” Frederick, the groom teases, “But look at that ass.” 

Will can barely make it through the rest of the night, feeling Hannibal’s gaze on him, and when he’s told, “Next time, send someone better,” he feels humiliated. 

He doesn’t go to the hotel on Thursday, he’s so angry, and receives calls he ignores telling Hannibal, “I’m busy tonight.” 

It’s a transaction, he shouldn’t feel ashamed, there is no need to feel as if he’s betrayed someone. 

Yet over the course of the week till the following Thursday, he doesn’t feel ashamed. He feels heartsick, because he misses Hannibal. There are a number of clients between him and Will barely goes through the motions. 

He cancels appointments from Monday through Thursday, shaking with fear as he opens the door to room 101. 

Hannibal is there, nearly an hour early, his anger a physical thing that makes Will want to apologize. “Hanni…” 

“Take off your clothes, I do not wish to hear you speak.” 

Will does, feeling worse and worse the more naked he gets. The touch of Hannibal’s hand to his back makes him moan, leaning back into it as he’s pushed down face first on the bed. 

He didn’t expect the restraints, but he doesn’t speak, letting Hannibal tie him up with what look like expensive ties. 

“I was starting to think this was something it wasn’t,” Hannibal says coldly, tightening his knot, “I will not make that mistake again.” 

Nothing about what happens next is loving, even the fingers inside him as Will is prepared. Hannibal is relentless, drilling into him with fingers and hissing, “Quiet,” when Will moans. He bites his lip and Hannibal whispers, “If you come, I will not come back next Thursday.” 

Will shudders, gritting his teeth as Hannibal opens the condom. 

“You looked horrible debasing yourself for them,” Hannibal sneers, “Dancing like a common whore.” 

Will closes his eyes and Hannibal grips his cheek, “Look at me.” 

He meets Hannibal’s eyes and licks his lips, but doesn’t speak. 

He’s not supposed to. 

Hannibal enters him in one quick thrust, Will biting on his lip to keep from groaning as he’s fucked hard and fast. He shudders into every touch, leans and melts against Hannibal who bites at his skin when he cums. 

Will doesn’t, sweaty and desperately silent as he waits for instruction. 

Hannibal pulls out and unties him, not speaking and tossing down the money as he starts to dress with his back to Will who watches. 

When he’s done he looks at Will with sad eyes, “Say something.” 

“I missed you.” 

Hannibal drops his tie in surprise, but looks away. “Missed my money, I’m certain.” 

Will swallows, “No, I missed YOU.” 

Hannibal takes a breath, closing his eyes. “Do you remember the first time we met, Will?” 

Will’s voice is thick, “Yes. You slit that man’s throat in that alley and then picked me up in the Fuller Bar.” 

Hannibal’s surprise is evident. “You saw?” 

Will nods, “Yes. You,” he sighs, “Hannibal I think I’m in love with you. I know it doesn’t mean much, but….” 

Hannibal rushes to him, grabbing onto Will’s cheeks as they kiss passionately. Will moans, clutching his neck as he cums so hard he’s dizzy. Hannibal pulls back, smiling, kissing Will’s chin. “You orgasmed from my kiss.” 

Will shivers, “You were so cold, I needed your warmth,” he laughs, “God I’m…” 

Hannibal kisses him again, biting his lip before pulling away. “You are all mine,” he runs his hand down Will’s chest, “And I do not share.” 

Will likes the sound of that.  

one thing that keeps me motivated, something more than anything, is the proof that as policy changes, attitudes and belief systems can and do also change. smoking indoors used to be completely normal and mundane - you could smoke on the bus, in cafés, on the train, and no one would even question it. some people would even say it was good for you! now, thanks to public health awareness, appropriate campaigning and implementation of policy (in the form of a ban), most have realised the detrimental effects on not only the smokers themselves but the other people around them. the majority of people would now be horrified by the mere idea of smoking indoors. thanks to evidence-based policy, mindsets have been questioned, acted against and completely reshaped. 

the passing of the nordic model in the republic of ireland today has made me cautiously optimistic about attitudes towards prostitution and the commodification of women’s bodies under capitalism. if we ban men from buying sex, they will slowly begin to realise why. and as men’s attitudes towards women and sex are shaped by society at large, rather than being biologically ‘fixed’ and innate, as policy changes, so will they. as society changes, so will they.

Religious Sisters Dress Up As Prostitutes To Rescue Trafficking Victims From Brothels
The low-key network of 1,100 sisters currently operates in 80 countries.