A/N: Something quick I whipped up because my brain is too tired to write any series. Enjoy :D
The first time Bucky picks you, you’re
sitting at your dining room table, biology book opened as you try to draw a
diagram of a plant cell. You have a half-eaten sandwich sitting on your plate
beside the book and you take a bit, absently chewing as you frown at your
paper. The proportions are all wrong and these are just notes, they shouldn’t be
something you worry about, but here you are, erasing the cell wall for the
fifth time and trying to be accurate this time around.
Being in honors classes, you’re
pressured to do your best and graduate top of your eighth-grade class. Your
parents beam with pride when they tell their friends that you’re doing so well
in school, and you want to keep them looking that way for as long as you can.
There’s a knock to your door and
your mom calls out your name. “Bucky’s here!” she says.
Truth about the 'Glamorous Lifestyle' of a Sugar Baby/Escort.
To Aspiring Sugar babies and Escorts
Listen ladies, I’ve been privileged enough to have been on private jets, exotic ‘vacations’, dined in x number of Michelin star dinners, worn the most beautiful dresses on the arm of SD’s, played that Pretty Woman scene when she goes shopping, etc….
I wish I had known the truth before joining, especially since I was so young.
Let me tell you this now: it’s not real. It’s not OUR reality. This is an example of a typical ‘upscale’ escort/sugar baby experience some will probably encounter at some point in their SW career.
Their reality: A sexy 18-29 year old in an even sexier dress hanging off of my arm. I can afford the caviar AND her. Every man in this bar is jealous, and trying to talk to her while I cop a feel of her ass. Another bottle of expensive champagne? Why not. She deserves to try the best. This is an incredible life.
Your reality: I’m in a foreign place where I don’t know anybody, wearing a dress that normally screams “rape bait” (at his request), with a man old enough to be my father, if not my grandfather. The host suspect I’m probably a “hooker” since I didn’t even know what the name of the reservation is under. This dress is making it difficult to breathe. Oh god, I need another drink of whatever it is in that bottle to get through another dinner where he’s trying to drunkenly fondle me under the table. I have to smile sweetly. Need to repeatedly remind myself to ignore the sneering glances from the waiters.
His reality later that night: I can’t wait to show her the top-floor suite of this place with the beautiful view. I even had my assistant go pick up some nice sets of lingerie from the store she mentioned she likes. I already made sure the rest of her envelope with her gift/donation is ready with her name on it. I’ll get the candles lit, have another bottle of wine sent up, and romantic music to top it all off. It’s gonna be a night of romance and passion with a beautiful girl. God, she’s gorgeous.
Your reality later that night: This view would be beautiful if it weren’t for the 50 year old behind me, nibbling his dry lips on my ear while I’m trying to enjoy the ambience. At least my rent money is in that envelope with a random name on it. He hands me a bag from Victoria Secret. I have to pretend to be super excited to get try on see-through lace for an old man now. He takes off his shirt, it’s just a forest of white hair and wrinkly skin. Next to the candle lighter, I see the magic blue pills. This is going to be a VERY long night.
Next day reality for him: I think I have enough time for room service before my flight. I’ll see if I can call the other SW from that other town to arrange another rendezvous for when I’m done with work. I should probably order two dozen roses, delivered to my wife so she knows I’m thinking of her. Note to self, call assistant to order roses and withdraw more cash. Oh wait, what’s that girl in my hotel room right now called? Ashley? Sarah? I’ll leave her a few hundred dollars as tip, save her number and I’ll call her again when I’m in town. I’m glad she really enjoyed the sex. She deserves it from all those times with unattractive and gross clients. At 54, I still got it.
Next day reality for you: Fuck, I have no idea how to get back to my own town without using all of the money he gave me for fare. My rent is due tomorrow, and tuition is due next month. I still have a client in 5 hours, my paper is due tomorrow but I haven’t even started. I have the worst hangover ever. At least I don’t remember much from last night, except his sandpaper tongue running all over my body. I shivered, but thankfully I fake moaned so it sounded like I was enjoying it.
Moral of this post: Don’t join the industry based on the glamorous lifestyle of the CLIENTS. Many of the blogs I see paint the image seen through HIS (the client) eyes, not YOURS (the service provider).
When your service is over, you turn back into a normal girl; back to grocery nights at Ralph’s, back to yelping the cheapest nail salon place, back to having fun with friends playing beer pong, back to being “Sarah or Ashley” because you have bills. Part of your service is renting you as a prop for their lifestyle. Never confuse that with YOUR lifestyle. ‘Vacationing’ in Cabo with him is NOT the same as doing so at your leisure with your friends.
If you still don’t quite understand what I’m saying, let me put it this way; bedazzled French pedicures are beautiful, right? You love being pampered in that massage chair, getting massaged, and ending up with a gorgeous pedicure. It’s stunning and glamorous experience, no?
Guess what. Not from the perspective of the pedicurist scrubbing your feet. There’s nothing glamorous about it for her because whereas she’s the service PROVIDER, YOU are the CLIENT. Same situation, very different experience.
This is something many of us learned the hard way. Yes, this lifestyle can come with many glamorous perks and experiences but there’s definitely a price to pay. Don’t be delusional. If this was all that easy, don’t you think every female on this planet would be in the industry?
After several years of experience I’ve learned to be immune to the ‘wrappings’ of the industry. You are here to make money. All those Roseshire roses, expensive dinners, fancy car rides, delicate lingerie are for HIS fantasy, and does very little for YOUR wallet. Don’t be blind sighted by the fancy tricks he pulls because it isn’t tangible. Never lose sight of your 'paycheck’. Once you see this lifestyle as what it truly is - a job; you become far less naive and more focused on your goals.
Always remember: There’s a price to pay for money.
i found this post in my drafts and have ZERO memory of writing it (thank u alcohol) so im gonna put it in my queue lol
ok but imagine
Bitty comes out to his parents but he doesn’t tell them about Jack, thinks it’s for the best, maybe to ease his parents into things or maybe to keep the pool of People Who Know as small as possible
and like yeah Ransom and Holster are super oblivious but Suzanne Bittle is not, not when it comes to her son, because she is a certified Nosy Southern Mother and she can see he’s been acting differently, happier but quieter, always on his phone and blushing when she asks about boys
and he talks about the team a LOT
Jack’s one of his best friends and he’s just started his NHL career, so of course Bitty’s never gonna shut up about Jack
(Same goes for Shitty and law school. And eventually Ransom and med school. Dicky is proud of his friends and wants everyone to know. He gets that trait from Suzanne, she understands)
but he keeps talking about this one Boy, how sweet he is and how his smile is like a sack of puppies and how bitty’s always making this boy do things with him like baking and getting froyo and going shopping and Suzanne is like. Yes. This must be Dicky’s secret boyfriend.
the next family weekend or whatever, Suzanne demands to meet this Chowder boy who’s stolen Bitty’s heart
A/N: Oh my god you guys!! I have so much to discuss but first and foremost I want to thank all of you for making this story into what it is. I started this story two weeks ago and in those two weeks I’ve gained almost 2000 followers and have had success that I never even dreamed of. Thank you so much for all that you’ve done for me, for this story, and hopefully for stories I write in the future!!! Skyline wouldn’t be what it is today without you guys. Secondly, there will be a pt. 7!!! I know I keep saying this, but I really did mean for this to be the last part. It’s just that there are so many things I want to include and plot points I want to flesh out, and although I feel bad for writing angst chapter after angst chapter, I want to give you guys my all and I don’t want to short change you. Finally, I would like to thank my friends Zoe and Jen for helping me brainstorm ideas and helping finalize details and plot points. I love you guys so so much!! Also, everyone, again, I DO NOT HAVE A TAGS LIST!!! I put this at the beginning of every chapter, it’s in my bio, and I’ve made multiple posts but people keep spamming me about it. I am truly not trying to be mean, but I do my best to respond to every ask and message I get, and having to sort through a million people asking the same question is hard guys!!!. Before, I go, one last thing: because everyone has sent me in songs that they listen to that remind them of Skyline, I compiled them into a playlist along with ones I listen to!! Please give it a listen and try to listen in order, as the songs follow the storyline. Link is below. Enjoy everyone!!
Waking up the next morning was hard. Sleep was like temporary amnesia, and when
you awoke alone in bed, your hand automatically reached out for the note that
Spider-Man always left before he disappeared every night. Instead of feeling the usual smooth sheet of
paper, however, you felt empty sheets that seemed colder than ever before. It was then that the events of the previous
night tumbled into your head, from your request to know Spider-Man’s identity,
to him saying I love you for the first time, to you giving him up.
You groaned and rubbed your hand across your face,
fatigue taking over. More than anything,
you wanted to fake an illness, stay in bed all day, and wallow in your
thoughts, but you knew you had to get up.
Although the breakup hurt you (did it count as a breakup if you were
never really together in the first place?), you knew you made the right
choice. There was no way a relationship
with a superhero would work out if the significant other didn’t know who they
were; if you were to fall in love, you would need to be able to fall
I feel like these stories are cliché or fake but like 100 % this is amazing.
I got some KFC and they asked for my name, I said “Clexa” (because im trash) he wrote it down and like five minutes later a different person read my receipt and called out “order for wanheda and heda to go!”
But, BITCH, what happened when I walked up to the counter!?
They gave me the receipt not the take out bag and whispered “Tu gonplei ste odon.”
Then I said “may we meet again.”
And… they gave me my order and said “when we owe nothing more to our people.”
Did I mention that the worker was a brunette female?
Partner and I have been rewatching The Two Towers for the first time in a long time.
anyway, one thing that has always been weird for me is Eomer giving Hasufel and Arod to random strangers, just like that. Just giving them away, two horses, to a trio of foreign travelers he just met and had suspected of being spies.
like. what? This is Rohan. Horses are the thing you value above all else, I don’t care if their riders are dead, even if their riders don’t have actual heirs somewhere to whom ownership would pass (or Rohirric inheritance law works differently and ownership has somehow defaulted to their éored’s commander, IDK), you’re still a calvary force planning to see a lot more battle in the near future, chances are high you’re going to end up with horseless riders who’ll need them.
this time I actually processed the fact, though, that Eomer believes they’ve inadvertantly killed two innocents, prisoners of the orcs, the beloved companions of these travelers.
Okay there’s something I wanna clear up on this damn site about YouCaring because people ONLY EVER reblog that one post about how YouCaring is “free” compared to GoFundMe without commentary at all.
YouCaring doesn’t personally take your money, because it doesn’t personally handle your money. YouCaring uses a service called WePay in order to forward the money to your bank account or whatever, and that service itself costs money. So you still lose a portion of the donation, and it’s a flat amount with a more proportionate fee added on top of that.
Here’s a screencap from my emails confirming the donation amount that somebody gave to me. I’m getting $.67 for a $1 donation. That’s almost 40 cents off of the tiny donation amount I’m getting, and that makes a much bigger impact if you were to get tons of tiny donations instead of a few big ones. This isn’t as noticeable as if somebody donates $100, you get maybe $97 of that.
So I’m not saying YouCaring is worse than GoFundMe at all, but people should be aware that it’s not a totally free money-giving service.