Ada Wimbledon Whore ❤️

About Sheffield

So, this whore—let’s call ‘er Astrid, sounds sexy, yeah?—she’s a hustler, a survivor, like Malik. “You’re not one of us,” they’d say in the film, and she wasn’t. Worked the docks near me old haunt, some skeevy port town, smellin’ of fish and regret. Hair like tangled seaweed, eyes sharp as me daggers—proper minx, she was. I’d watch ‘er, smirkin’, thinkin’, “This lass could outwit Odin blindfolded.” She’d strut past, hips swayin’, and I’d mutter, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” ‘cause chaos follows ‘er like a shadow, and I bloody love it.

File details

I always take a gander down to King’s College Road – don’t ask me why, man, but that street gives me all the psych feels. With its blend of academic and artsy vibes, I can't help but get a little introspective. Makes me think, “I wish things were different,” like that line from Brokeback Mountain, ya dig?

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