pretty woman walking down the street

katennara  asked:

Pretty Woman AU, but Hyde is the prostitute. Pretty Burnout. Walking down the street.

Dude, this was supposed to be funny and ended up super deep, long and I will probably write it at some point. I lovehate you.

PS: No bullshit of falling in love in one week and no also bullshit of “I WILL LEAVE EVERYTHING BEHIND FOR YOU AND LET YOU SAVE ME WITH YOUR MONEEEEY!”, that… just doesn’t happen in real life, okay? So the core of this AU is still the movie ‘Pretty Woman’, but goes beyond that. And yes, Hyde is the sex-worker.

He’s 25 and she’s 23, she would love to focuss on her career on TV but knows her grandfather wants her to follow on his steps and can’t find her voice to say no.

Keep reading

MY FEARS FOR HILLARY CLINTON
 
Every loophole, every misstep,
every trial resulting in error

will be attributed to her gender.

Her period: blamed for the blood
on the hands of our children.

Her mothers hand-me-down rage: blamed
for every bankrupt city and flooded street.

When she does not allow America to feed
off of her womanhood, the whole country

will accuse her of letting us go hungry.

How can we expect a woman to keep us out
of war, when our country

has already declared one
on her body?

Watch this public display of femininity’s
balancing act. Watch this laughable attempt
at being both powerful and unthreatening.

Watch her walk the tightrope of being
both pretty and taken seriously.

Watch her drown trying.

Watch the mascara run down her face.
Watch this delicate grandmother crumble.

Place bets in crowded bars with drunk friends
how long this royal imposter can hold her breath.

Watch the crowds drooling mouths
wait for her to save our country,

daintily. We will tremble as our country’s men
leave handprints over the mouths of our daughters,

chanting “And this is why we can’t
put women in charge of anything.“

—  MY FEARS FOR HILLARY CLINTON, by Blythe Baird
I want a game called Walk Down The Street

It’s a video game, and its main protagonist is a female in New York or some other city trying to walk home. You never see the protagonist. You’re armed with your keys, your wallet or purse, a phone that may or may not be dead, whatever a female might have trying to walk home.

Here’s the kicker.

It’s at night.

It’s styled like a first person shooter, but physically the character cannot defend themselves like a video game character usually can. You can’t knock down enemies before they’re enemies–they’ll defeat you and it’s game over. There’s a paranoia meter. If you get caught in a situation, you can only use the limited amount of self defense your character has to hopefully escape, but sometimes it’s not possible. There’s also a meter for endurance and public image. You can’t just full out sprint home–the walk is too far and you’ll not only run out of steam, but your public image goes down. If your paranoia is up, you can run longer faster without any penalty from public image. Public image is important because it can effect game play and what attention you might bring to yourself. You have to not stare at anyone, particularly makes, too long or they might turn out to be enemies. You might encounter another female or male in a bad situation and have to choose whether to proceed walking home or get involved. You also have ‘friends’, who are technically strangers, and if you’re in a situation (or they tell you you’re in a situation even if you didn’t realize it), you may have to choose whether you accept their help or not. They’re strangers. They might just be enemies trying to get close. You can yell for help, but it might not work.

Make too many 'wrong’ mistakes, you lose and end up in a newspaper as a dead/missing person. This might not happen immediately–as in, you might gain a stalker. On your walk, you might be stalked. You might be grabbed. You might be groped. You might not have an incident at all. If you get through the night, your reward is to do it all over again. The full game is a full week (seven days/nights) of doing this.

This is a kind of a horror game, yes. The real horror is the fact that this is someone’s life.

Have fun gaming.

@immcrtaliisms​ // starter call.

    It isn’t strange to see weird shit walking home from his shifts at this hour. A little past four in the morning, the streets are dead save for those who have business about and that’s usually shady as shit. Sam keeps his head down, one foot in front of the other, and thinks about crawling into bed even though he won’t fall asleep for hours. He’s gotten pretty good at ignoring the weird shit.

    But the weird shit’s seem to come to him. Someone     a woman, short as hell     is lurking outside the place he’s been calling home for the past week, blocking his way to the door. Fucking typical his night would end like this. 

    “Uh, ‘scuse me, lady. You’re kind of in my way.” 

Night in Shanghai ☺

Last night I finished work, runned to the train station and took a train to shanghai. I wanted to buy some pants so I walked to the shopping mall in Shanghai to look for pants stores, then I was walking down the street. I saw a festival and they were enjoying the fireworks and lots of people were standing around and watching it .I stopped and took some pictures ,there was a very pretty woman so I decided talk to her and ask for her phone number , and she told me to go away !
She was very furious!!👆👗🚅🏃

“ANOTHER FEMINISM RANT”

“ANOTHER FEMINISM RANT”

They groan as she speaks

about how she doesn’t understand

why a woman makes 77 cents

to a man’s dollar.

“Here she goes again,

it’s another feminism rant”

It’s another one of those,

I’m talking about the inequality.

Yes that one, the one where

every 107 seconds

a female is sexually harassed.

The rant about double standards,

because a boy is a player,

but a girl is a whore.

The talk about how a woman’s place

is a kitchen, and never an office.

A man is confident,

but a woman is a bitch.

That thing where I have to

dress in pretty pink and be as delicate

as the flowers in the garden

for a man with a habit for forgetting

to water the plants.

It’s another feminism rant,

and there’ll be a thousand more

until I can walk down a street

without being catcalled.

Until I can stop being talked down to

like I am a lesser.

Until feminism is finally just looked at

as equality.

Being butch means a very particular relationship to PDA for me because 1) I’m outed by my appearance, unless I pass as a man and therefore dont really have the option of not being visible anyway so 2) it is assumed by most people that ANY woman I’m walking with is my partner, even in the absence of PDA which means 3) I have pretty much relegated screening environments for potential homophobes to a sort of back-burner mental task, so that I hardly notice anything anymore except the most potentially dangerous threats/ being who haven’t satisfied themselves with one stare or two at the gay freak show walking down the street. And in the end that probably means I’m just more comfortable with PDA than most because (just like not shaving my legs) I’m not fooling anybody anyway. But it comes with a special form of visibility that’s tough to explain to people who don’t experience it.

I’m a very physically affectionate person, and with several of my friends we’re very comfortable locking arms or holding each other while walking or kissing on the cheek or hugging, which I’m sure cishets also take as a necessary sign of dating even though it isn’t.

Yet another starter because why not?

A woman with short wavy hair walked down a street, searching for her childhood friend. She wished her friend was home and not…well, somewhere entirely different from home. A long sigh left her lips, two crimson red tattoos adorning her face, two piercings on her left brow and three on the other.

Her brown eyes darted everywhere, some people were taking pictures of her, pretty much for her clothing since it was too…different. She didn’t know what photos were, a camera doesn’t exist in her home, and her clothing was that of her royal army uniform, only worn by generals, her tattoos were also marks of a general. Her uniform plus her knuckle claws, many thought she was cosplaying another thing she didn’t understand.