#a friend telling me that people choose to live in the ghetto | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kvetchlandia · 1 year

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Henri Cartier-Bresson Writer and Literary Critic Alfred Kazin, New York City 1946

“...When I was a child I thought we lived at the end of the world. It was the eternity of the subway ride into the city that first gave me this idea. It took a long time getting to “New York”; it seemed longer getting back.…

I saw New York as a foreign city. There, brilliant and unreal, the city had its life, as Brownsville was ours. That the two were joined in me I never knew then… We were the end of the line. We were the children of the immigrants who had camped at the city’s back door, in New York’s rawest, remotest, cheapest ghetto… ‘New York’ was what we put last on our address, but first in thinking of the others around us. They were New York, the Gentiles, America; we were Brownsville — Brunzvil, as the old folks said — the dust of the earth to all Jews with money, and notoriously a place that measured all success by our skill in getting away from it.

Our cousin and her two friends were of my parents’ generation, but I could never believe it — they seemed to enjoy life with such outspokenness. They were the first grown-up people I had ever met who used the word love without embarrassment. ‘Libbe! Libbe!’ my mother would explode whenever one of them protested that she could not, after all, marry a man she did not love. “What is this love you make such a stew about? You do not like the way he holds his cigarette? Marry him first and it will all come out right in the end!” It astonished me to realize there was a world in which even unmarried women no longer young were simply individual human beings with lives of their own...

Our parents, whatever affection might offhandedly be expressed between them, always had the look of being committed to something deeper than mere love. Their marriages were neither happy nor unhappy; they were arrangements. However they had met — whether in Russia or in the steerage or, like my parents, in an East Side boarding house — whatever they still thought of each other, love was not a word they used easily. Marriage was an institution people entered into — for all I could ever tell — only from immigrant loneliness, a need to be with one’s own kind that mechanically resulted in the family. The family was a whole greater than all the individuals who made it up, yet made sense only in their untiring solidarity. I was perfectly sure that in my parents’ minds libbe was something exotic and not wholly legitimate, reserved for ‘educated’ people like their children, who were the sole end of their existence. My father and mother worked in a rage to put us above their level; they had married to make us possible. We were the only conceivable end to all their striving; we were their America.

So far as I knew, love was not an element admissible in my parents’ experience. Any open talk of it between themselves would have seemed ridiculous. It would have suggested a wicked self-indulgence, a preposterous attention to one’s own feelings, possible only to those who were free enough to choose. They did not consider themselves free. They were awed by us, as they were awed by their own imagined unworthiness, and looked on themselves only as instruments toward the ideal ‘American’ future that would be lived by their children. As poor immigrants … in their lives combined to make them look down on love as something they had no time for.

They had a great flavor for me, those three women: they were the positive center of that togetherness that always meant so much to me in our dining room on Friday evenings… Those Friday evenings, I suddenly found myself enveloped in some old, primary Socialist idea that people could go beyond every barrier of race and nation and language, even of class! into some potential loving union of the whole human race. I was...simply and naturally glad of those Jewish dressmakers who spoke with enthusiastic familiarity of Sholem Aleichem and Peretz, Gorky and Tolstoy, who glowed at every reminiscence of Nijinsky, of Nazimova in ‘The Cherry Orchard,’ of Pavlova in ‘The Swan.’ ...

The Soloveys had been very puzzling; from the day they had come to our tenement, taking over the small dark apartment on the ground floor next to his drugstore, no one had been able to make them out at all. Both the Soloveys had had an inaccessible air of culture that to the end had made them seem visitors among us. They had brought into our house and street the breath of another world, where parents read books, discussed ideas at the table, and displayed a quaint, cold politeness addressing each other. The Soloveys had traveled; they had lived in Palestine, France, Italy. They were ‘professional’ people, “enlightened” — she, it was rumored, had even been a physician or ‘some kind of scientist,’ we could never discover which.

The greatest mystery was why they had come to live in Brownsville. We looked down on them for this, and suspected them. To come deliberately to Brownsville, after you had lived in France and Italy! It suggested some moral sickness, apathy, a perversion of all right feelings. The apathy alone had been enough to excite me. They were different!

Whenever I saw the strange couple together, the gold wedding ring on his left hand thick as hers, I felt they were still lovers… And there was that visible tie between them, that wedding ring even a man could wear, some deep consciousness of each other, that excited me, it seemed so illicit.…

The lovers, though their love had been spent, still lived only for each other. And it was this that emphasized their strangeness for me — it was as strange as Mr. Solovey’s books, as a Brownsville couple speaking Russian to each other, as strange as Mrs. Solovey’s delightfully shocking blondness and the unfathomable despair that had brought them to us. In this severe dependence on each other for everything, there was a defiance of the family principle, of us, of their own poverty and apathy, that encouraged me to despise our values as crude and provincial. Only in movies and in The Sheik did people abandon the world for love, give themselves up to it — gladly. Yet there was nothing obviously immoral in the conduct of the Soloveys, nothing we could easily describe and condemn. It was merely that they were sufficient to each other; in their disappointment as in their love they were always alone. They left us out, they left Brownsville out; we were nothing to them. In the love despair of the Soloveys something seemed to say that our constant fight “to make sure” was childish, that we looked at life too narrowly, and that in any event, we did not count. Their loneliness went deeper than our solidarity.

And so I loved them.”

-- Alfred Kazin “A Walker in the City” 1951

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veronicathegoddess · 2 years

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This is like a genuine question but if you're black and announcing it why do you have a yt profile pic and have your blog just generally very yt?

there's so much to unpack here and i have nothing to do tonight so let's delve into this

1. why is it seen as announcing that i'm black instead of me simply stating a fact about myself??? why is this is a critique that is leveled at poc in the first place especially in my experience black people???

why don't we ask gay people why they put that in their bios? or neurodivergent people why they post that they have autism or adhd? but i say i'm black and its viewed as an announcement like i don't live in my blackness every day. the same way that everyone else lives in their identities. black people can exist and assert their existence the same way other minorities do and it should be viewed the same way.

2. my profile pic is not yt. it's actually from hentai which yk is japanese. but considering that it is just boobs with no ethnic or racial context, i can't be mad at your assumption that it's a white person. however, let me ask you this, why would it be a problem if i have a profile picture of a white person?

why would you even bring my race into that when race has nothing to do with the media i engage with and what i choose to post or have as a profile picture?

this is just a racist implication that as a black person, i should only watch and support and post media that is black centered or contains black characters. which is hilarious when you consider that black persons are one of the most underrepresented groups in media even to this day.

and when we are represented the roles are often typecasted. it's always slavery, black misery, black best friend who never gets a happy ending, strong black girlboss who don't need man, it's all been seen. and let's not get started on the colorism within the industry related to black actors especially in modern media where black persons who are dark-skinned, especially women, are continually underrepresented.

i have no problem with black centered media, i watch a lot of shows and movies that are generally considered "black shows" but what i do have a problem with is you trying to link my race to something that is completely unrelated to it and implying that because i'm black i shouldn't have a white profile picture from something that i enjoy.

3. what the fuck do you mean by have my blog generally very yt? like i would love if you could explain to me what my blog is supposed to be like as a black person.

am i supposed to be using the n word? am i supposed to be ratchet? ghetto? is my blog supposed to be posts about weed and lean and rappers? please enlighten me. but until you do, i'll just make a guess.

it's not that my blog is yt, it's that i don't fit whatever racist, stereotypical view of black people that you have. you probably liked my content and assumed i was white until you learnt i was black

then you accused me of announcing my blackness but basically being a "race traitor" by having a profile picture of a non-poc character and then had the audacity to tell me that my blog is yt because you don't think that black people are a diverse group that can express who they are and their interests in the same way that white people do because we have to fit whatever racist view that you have of us.

to you i'm not supposed to be respectful or articulate or like non-black media or even be interested in hard kinks because that just isn't what negroes are like huh. that's what you cultured white folks do and it doesn't matter at the end of the day that i fit your respectability and acceptability politics, i'm still black and god forbid, i ever ever ever ever be anything besides what white people think i'm supposed to be.

i don't care that this is a "genuine question" because if it is, at the end of the day, it's still full of racism and i don't have to be nice about it because it is not my responsibility as a black person to educate white people on how to stop being racist assholes. i don't think this was a genuine question, but that's a whole other conversation.

the point is black people are not a monolith. black people are a beautifully diverse group and we can be and are interested in the same things as any other racial or ethnic group. we can assert our existence because we want to and we can be who we want to be and express that however we want to because we do not have to fit your racist stereotypical caricatures of what black people are like. and it's highly upsetting that i have to say this in 2022.

and to you anon, genuine or not genuine, i don't care, fuck you.

#this is a rant and a half #i am extremely pissed off rn #ask answered

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deathspoems · 5 months

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I'm going to go off on a little rant. I don't claim to know what I'm talking about and what I'm about to say is purely out of my own experience with the topic at hand. I do encourage people who read this to add anything, whether that be an opposing point or simply an add on to my topic. Remember be nice.

Now, I don't know about you guys, but growing up I don't remember having a lot of autonomy. Even when I was 15 did I not have enough autonomy, at least in the way that I wanted it to be. It wasn't till I was 19 and taking myself to school and work that I realized that I DID IN FACT have autonomy.

I'm not going to lie it felt freeing to know that I could go wherever I wanted, that I could do whatever I wanted, it was freeing to buy something younger me thought would be questionable for me to have and simply purchase it.

Then I started to question why I had felt that way for so long. Autonomy by definition means independence and freedom, as of the will or one's own action. By definition all my life I knew I was free, but I always felt like I wasn't. But now I know why it's because I was never really given a choice in the matter.

I'm not saying I had helicopter parents or that I was in bad situation where I was extremely limited with decisions because I wasn't. No what made me feel like I had no autonomy was that I always had be to looked after and I don't mean where safety was a huge concern or anything like that.

Let me give an example, you tell your parents that you'll be going out with a few friends to the park, they say okay but they your sibling to watch you. You respond with but I'm only going to the park next door??? They tell you I don't care there's dangerous people everywhere take your sibling.

See? And what's worse is that your sibling didn't even want to go so is just begrudgingly following you and your friends from a distance and ruining the overall mood.

This is what I mean. And I'm sorry if I sound like a little kid complaining about simply being taken care off, but I'm not complaining about my parents giving a shit about me. It just kinda made me wonder why I didn't feel like autonomy that's it.

Now back to the topic, when I was growing up my mom would take me everywhere which is fine, but on my way back home from work I saw 4 - 8 gradeders taking the public bus home. (We live in America school busses are a thing) I for so long thought that shit was illegal not for the kid but for the parent.

As far as I'm concerned only advanced countries like Central Europe, and eastern Asia could have that luxury. You hardly see kids much less under the age of 10 taking the bus to go home.

And it made me realize that we do have a choice even as kids, but we aren't really allowed to do any of it because to our parents it's better to be driven than go on a bus.

Let's go back in time a bit to the 1960s America, this is a time in the world where people want peace, weed was the new tobacco, and the Beatles were the hottest thing. Kids of all ages were encouraged to explore their surroundings. Stranger danger wasn't yet a concept but instead it was up to the parents to protect and educate their child. Sadly it was also an age in time where serial killers and child predators ran loose 1.5 million children went missing from just those 2 decades.

All this to say that those 2 eras would be last and final time (at least in America) where the kids would ever go out on their own. While it benefited us in the long run, it has slowly taken from us our autonomy as growing individuals. Because having autonomy means having a right to choose where you go and what you do. And you might be thinking well why not just go outside in your neighborhood or ask your mom if you can go to a friend's house and hangout? Let me tell you, I grew up in the ghetto the neighborhood was quiet but never safe and if I wanted to go to my friends house her mom would have be there and in a low-income neighborhood no one can afford being a stay at home mom.

I could not go anywhere without being watched or do a lot of the things I wanted to because we were poor and hobbies take investments.

And so I grew up thinking I couldn't do what I wanted because of where I was or who my friends parents thought I was or simply because were poor. It was so bad that when I finally did start earning money I didn't spend any of it at first at least not on me. I'm still trying to get used to the fact that I CAN IN FACT do whatever the hell I want and that it isn't impossible to have a cheap hobby.

Thank you for reading my very long and quite frankly stupid rant up this far and do remember that YOU CAN IN FACT DO THAT WEIRD THING YOU WANTED TO DO FOR SO LONG no will stop you trust me. I've learned that the hard way.

#self autonomy #autonomy #rant post #personal #personal rant #free will

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mademoisellehypergamy · 3 years

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✨ CREATING A PERSONA FOR HYPERGAMY & SOCIAL CLIMBING ✨

The votes are in and “Persona” won! Ladies, get the notebooks out. Class is in session. And this is gonna be a long one.

Be honest with me: Are you currently your ideal woman? The majority of you will probably answer honestly and say no. And there’s nothing wrong with admitting that. The harsh reality is most women on their hypergamous journey aren’t even close to being the ideal woman they aspire to be. Hell, the average woman (hypergamous or not) will probably live her life never being able to become that woman, if we’re being completely honest here.

I believe every hypergamous woman should create and adopt a persona. You are who you believe to be. When I was younger, my teachers and parents told me I was academically gifted. So guess what? I believed the same! That pushed me to work even harder in school. Same concept applies here. You are who you believe to be. A persona isn’t a “fake” version of you. It is you. Your ideal person. It is malleable, so it can change at anytime. Just like you changed throughout your life.

STEP 0 - WHY YOU SHOULD ADOPT A PERSONA

✨Not Everyone Will Win the Birth Lottery. But that doesn’t mean you can’t rewrite your past, and repave your future path. Let’s face it: some of you were born into bad circumstances; abusive families, poverty, toxic relationships, obstacles and barriers, etc. And some of you are living lives currently that you aren’t satisfied with: stressful job, health issues, bad environment, *insert sob story here*, blah, blah, blah, woe is me! But should your current and past conditions get in the way of your hypergamous journey? No! Absolutely not.

✨You Can’t Be the Same Basic B*tch Forever. Okay b*tch, when you were being “true to yourself” in the past, look where it got you. Probably in a less than favorable situation. Congratulations for being an authentic basic b*tch! 🥳😊

Ladies, change is necessary. When you started your hypergamous journey, you underwent a change. Are you saying your hypergamous self is fake? Of course it isn’t! It’s still you, just an “elevated you”. One that is more aware and knows what she wants.

✨ Most People Don’t Even Know Who TF They Are. It’s sad, but true. Most people are lost and suppressing their true desires and personality. I’m here encouraging you ladies to create your ideal persona and to become this woman. Because this woman is who you are deep inside, who you want to be. Stop hiding her! Create her, and become her! As long as this person isn’t harming anyone, there is no reason you shouldn’t chase your dream self.

STEP 1 - CHOOSE & CREATE YOUR PERSONA

This is the fun part ladies! Time to choose and create your new persona!

✨ What Kind of Woman Do You Aspire to Be? Have fun with this ladies! What kind of woman have you always dreamt of becoming? Is she wildly intelligent and beautiful? Or perhaps she has a heart of gold and is adored by all? Nothing is off limits. This is you.

For those of you who are truly struggling, below I have included a few examples of common personas. If you don’t know where to begin, choose one as the “foundation” and build on it. Make it your own!

*Disclaimer: Anyone that I mentioned/included below is simply for inspiration. Not all of these women are hypergamous. This is just for inspiration*

1. The Socialite/ The “It” Girl: This is the girl that everyone knows. She’s always at a party with a glass of champagne, wearing the latest styles, and living the BEST life. She’s glamorously unattainable and few have access to her, but somehow she’s a part of every social circle.

Inspiration: Jamie Chua (https://www.instagram.com/ec24m/)

2. The Traveler: This is the girl that travels constantly. Whether it’s across the globe or to a different state/town, she’s always on the go! No one seems to know how she funds her lifestyle because she always appears to be traveling and never working. Her pictures are always on point and high quality, with a combination of bikini pictures, relaxing scenery, exotic foods, and endless hotels.

Inspiration: Jennifer Tuffen (https://www.instagram.com/izkiz/)

3. The Influencer: Think of the ultimate Instagram Baddie; perfect body (usually because of surgery), full lips, carefully applied makeup, nails always done, hair on point. She is sponsored by all the clothes brands, and lives lavishly. She’s always out at a restaurant and traveling. Typically dresses in more revealing clothes/lots of bikinis. What differentiates her from the Socialite? The degree of elegance and class. While the Socialite gives you an “heiress” vibe, the Influencer is more on the “flashy celebrity” side.

Inspiration: Kaylar Will (https://www.instagram.com/kaylarwill/)

4. Femme Fatale: She rarely posts on social media, but when she does, it only makes you question her existence more. This girl is beautifully sensual, and her social media only reveals bits and pieces of her life. She is an entire mystery, no one knows about her private life. One day she’ll be flying from London, the next she’ll be visiting an art gallery She’ll sometimes post images of gifted roses with poetry captions. She oozes seduction and dark mystery.

Inspiration: Dita Von Teese (https://www.instagram.com/ditavonteese) Now I thought long and hard about who to choose for this one, and if you take a moment to look at Dita’s IG account, you will understand why. You will notice that the ONLY thing she posts about is her clothes/lingerie brand or things relating to business. She reveals nothing about her personal life. Every post is promotion about her business. In fact, the last time she posted something about her “life” was on October 8th when she posted her CAT modeling another designer’s scarf. She’s a very discreet woman, and it works in her favor.

5. Girl Next Door: You know that basic b*tch that’s SUPER popular for no reason? This is her. From her Starbucks to her Tiktoks, she’s just your average girl living her life. In a way, she isn’t a threat because she seems approachable, relatable, and friendly enough through social media. Something about her aspires others that they can achieve a similar lifestyle. She’s terribly basic, but somehow, it works.

Inspiration: Loren Gray (https://www.instagram.com/loren/)

6. Exotica: *This persona is best suited for women of color* She is exotically beautiful and unique. She is a trendsetter, not a follower. She has an air of heightened sexuality, with a touch of grounded-spirituality. Something about her is wild and untamed, and she oozes excitement and adventure.

Inspiration: Monica Leon, or “Danger”. Now if you’re in my generation, you may remember the reality show “For the Love of Ray J” (which was ghetto btw💀). To this day, one girl that I will NEVER forget on that show, was “Danger”, the girl with the tiger tattoo on her face and that NO ONE liked, but Ray J was obsessed with. Although she no longer is on Instagram (and has since legally changed her name), I still believe she naturally embodied that exotic and mysterious woman persona. I recommend watching the show for free on Youtube just to observe her (and only her because the other women were pickme’s 💀)

7. The Luxurious Diamond: This woman is the epitome of class and elegance. She exudes femininity and grace, and holds an air of mystery by only showing us bits and pieces of her life. What we see is soft luxuries, wineries, beautiful clothes/scenery, and a life of comfort. She balances a mature, elegant, ladylike presence, with subtle girly-youthfulness.

Inspiration: Г-жа Анисимова https://www.instagram.com/creme_de.la_femme/

✨How Does She Look Like? From her hair to how she wears her makeup, be able to create a vivid description of her appearance. Being able to do this will show you where to work on with your current appearance.

✨Personality We all have traits about ourselves that we don’t like. This is your chance to identify your traits that you love and maximize them, while also working on the aspects of your personality that are a bit more problematic.

It’s important to recognize that some “negative” traits are not really negative. Society just shames us for them. For example, “The Socialite” persona may be polite, but that doesn’t mean she’s super open and friendly with everyone. Not everyone is her friend, and she is naturally unattainable. So why would she be super friendly to everyone? Some may call her “standoffish”, but I call it “selective”.

✨Past Self? Not a Problem. So let’s say you had a less than perfect childhood and endured a lot of trauma. Not a problem, just reinvent your past! Now I’m not saying to straight up lie and make up a crazy story about how you grew up with billionaire parents and traveled the globe. I’m saying adopt a realistic story that’ll help you on your journey.

For example, if your date were to ask about your past, instead of telling him how tragic your childhood was and how you were homeless and abused by your parents, and no longer have a relationship with them, you can say: “I moved around a lot as a child (“homelessness”), so I really enjoyed being able to interact with a lot of different people (make the negative seem positive). My parents still move around a lot, so it’s hard for us to meet (explains why you aren’t in contact with your parents).

Reword and reframe, ladies. Not everyone needs to know everything.

STEP 2 - BRING HER TO LIFE

✨Remove. You cannot embrace your new persona, your new IDENTITY, if you are still stuck in the past. And that includes past connections that do not serve you. Some of your old friends (college friends, childhood friends, etc.) are not meant to accompany you on this journey. And that’s OKAY. Same with other toxic relationships in your life, family included. You will have to decide who to keep, and who to distance yourself from.

✨ Social Media! I’ve mentioned this in an earlier post, but social media is the easiest way for you to push your new persona. You control the content that goes on your social media, so even if you haven’t fully embodied your new persona, you can sure as hell fake it on social media.

- Unless your persona is a socialite/influencer type, avoid posting too often. - Be consistent; if you retouch your images, make sure its consistent with all your photos. - Be mindful of what people tag you in/post about you. You know that “friend” who always posts the ugliest pictures of you? Yeah. They’re not your friend, hun.

✨Dress. The. Part. Okay, sis. You can have the personality down perfectly, but if the look doesn’t match, no one will buy it. Your look is the first thing people notice, so invest in it. It doesn’t cost a lot, especially with fast fashion sites like Shein that sells clothes for $5. Just be able to keep up the appearance.

✨ Immerse Yourself in the Environment. Looking the part and having the right personality is not enough, ladies! It wouldn’t make sense for you to be a “Socialite” sharing pictures of you eating at Red Lobster and Olive Garden every night. It wouldn’t make sense for the “Traveler” persona to share only bathroom selfies in her apartment. You have to live like the woman you aspire to be, and that includes placing yourself in those environments.

If you are not in the place financially to do so, learn to project the image without spending money. Ex: If you can’t afford to go to Hawaii, go to your local beach and take bomb ass pictures. Don’t tag the location. People will automatically see a beach in your picture and assume you are on vacation traveling. Get creative, ladies.

✨You Owe Them Nothing. Ladies! Remember you don’t owe anyone anything. Not an explanation, not your time, nothing. So if you are living this new persona and people are asking questions you don’t want to answer: don’t. This is your life.

STEP 3 - YOUR PERSONA WHILE DATING HYPERGAMOUSLY & SOCIAL CLIMBING

So now that you have created your ideal persona, and taken the steps to incorporate it into your life, how can you use your newfound persona to aid you on your hypergamous journey and while social climbing?

✨Infiltrate New Circles. Your persona should be someone exciting and enticing. People love befriending people who are happy and adventurous. Use your persona to befriend others and enter new social circles. You can do this through: - Social media; follow similar accounts to yours and interact with them. - Activities related to your persona; Let’s say you adopted the “The Luxurious Diamond” persona and started visiting wineries. You may notice when you go that there are regulars; identify the regulars and use your common interest of wine to strike a conversation. -Interest groups; join clubs/groups that help you reach your goals. For example, “The Traveler” may have always wanted to travel to Bali, but didn’t want to go alone. She joins a travel group to meet other likeminded inviduals and meets a travel buddy. This person ends up introducing her to others who also enjoy traveling.

✨ Be a Chameleon. You should never be set on just one persona. Like I said earlier, your persona should always be malleable. You should be able to change yourself to your benefit, and always be open to expansion. When it comes to dating, a man may “want” a certain type of woman, but the secret is that most men just want a woman who is open to possibilities. I remember a man who used to be on my roster who loved music. This man was always insisting on taking me to operas and symphonies. And he too was a musician (I really don’t like dating musicians, but that’s a topic for another day), so whenever he was performing he would have me sitting in the box so I’d have an “undisturbed” experience. Now ladies, I’m not into music AT ALL. But I was open and willing, and guess what? The man adored it, and he adored me even more! He spoiled me like crazy and would serenade me with music he wrote about me because I was his “muse”. Although I ended up ghosting him, I definitely appreciate a good opera now!

✨Be Larger than Life to Entice. The attractive part about these personas is the fact that it feels almost fake. The image that is portrayed is almost mythical, like something out of a fantasy. You can’t believe this girl is traveling so much, or you can’t believe this girl still has a social life in the middle of a pandemic! It’s unbelievable, but that’s what makes us so intrigued. Men especially love fantasy. That’s why many men have a “dream girl”, a woman that embodies their physical and emotional fantasies. They love the impossible. It’s also important to remember that you are always being watched. People see you, whether in person or on social media, and when they see someone or something more interesting than their mundane life, curiosity will get the best of them. They’ll be drawn to you and want to know you.

✨ The Persona Advantage. Creating a persona is supposed to help your journey. The purpose is to reinvent yourself into someone who will help you better navigate your hypergamous life. For example, if you are trying to get into more exclusive, affluent circles, creating a persona who is skilled in social and dining etiquette would be more beneficial than a persona that’s an Instagram Influencer. Being an Instagram Baddie that wears Fashion Nova won’t help you at a Charity Gala. So be sure to think of what you desire in life to shape yourself into that. Don’t just become someone who won’t get you to where you want to be.

This post will definitely have a Part 2 in the future, but in conclusion: You can be whoever you want to be as long as you play the role. Be an actress in your own life, and live the life you desire.

Well ladies, I’ll be away for Valentine’s day weekend. Wishing you all a wonderful and safe weekend ❤️ Lots of love.

Follow my IG for more: @mademoisellehypergamy

#mhlessons #hypergamy #hypergamous #black hypergamy #hypergamy tips #black femininity #keptwoman #kept wife #spoiled girlfriend #spoiled gf #spoiled heaux #black girls in luxury #black women in luxury #luxury lifestyle #black women in leisure #black women in femininity #sugaring tips #sugaring

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coco96 · 4 years

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LDAF - TS Parental/Familial

TONY STARK - PARENTAL

On The Off Chance (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mention of spitting in a drink and some threats of violence, and mention of violence Request: Tony stark parental figure with “i know you’re joking but on the off chance you aren’t, no”

Arranged Plans Cancelled (Peter Parker X Fem!Stark!Reader) Warnings: Bad friends Request: Stark!Reader is often hurt by others, like people will arrange plans + blow her off/friends will make plans in front of her + not invite her. people will get her to do their homework for them bc they know she can’t say no. Peter Parker thinks its really unfair but she handles it really well + doesn’t make a fuss. one day Steve/Tony/someone accidentally upsets her (maybe they cancel plans she’s been really looking forward to or something) and Peter just loses it. she’s really shocked that he noticed and he’s standing up for her. She goes to Midtown too …

Homework Struggles (Tony Stark X Fem!Teen!Reader) Request: What about a reader x father figure tony where the reader is really struggling in school and feels like she’s failing him but instead of being upset he just helps them out and discovers they have adhd and gets them the help they need?

Accidentally Coming Out (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Accidentally coming out, fear of homophobia Request: … reader accidentally makes a comment about being gay and panics bc she’s not out to him yet? And she tries to run away but someone catches her and brings her home?

Taking the Lead (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers to Infinity War and Endgame, death Requests: … the one who survives in infinity turns to dust and the one did is alive. the reader didn’t urn to dust and he missed his father, even throught they don’t have nice relationship. he learns that he has a sister and he helped to take care of them as he is like a father figure to Morgan. when endgame happened, the reader do the snap. it like the reader do the snap instead of tony

More Like Pepper (Tony Stark X Teenage!Reader) Request: Could I request a fic where the reader is Tony’s kid but lowkey has no time for the teams shit and is savage?

Hiding Hickies (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Hickies/bruises Request: Would you be open to writing a tony x daughter reader where the daughter goes out with a boy for the first time and has to hide hickies? And tony finds out and she’s expecting him to freak out but he just accepts it and is really chill about it?

Metallic Limbs (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mention of injury and loss of limbs, mention of surgery Request: … Reader is a quadruple amputee after the Chitauri attack in Manhattan. Tony, As the one who found her in the rubble, feels inclined to watch over her and help her in any way he can. So he has her fitted with state of the art cybernetic limbs. Years later, reader is coming to the avengers HQ to get a tune up and she meets the friendly neighbourhood sideman without the mask. Tony is unsure if he’s okay with them being so chummy together.

Never There (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Absent father, swearing, threatening Request: ... reader has been under Tony’s financial care since she was a child but he never saw her as his child and saw no need to spend time with her until after the Ultron situation. But with all the years or ignorance, is the damage already done?

Science Fair (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Warnings: Mention of neglectful parent Request: Son male reader x tony stark where tony wants to be better of a parent than Howard to male reader

Bitten (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Blood, near death Request: One more please if available. Tony stark and daughter were she gets bitten by a vampire and tony and team are extremly worried and strange is the only one that can save her? Fluff and angst. Pepper is her mom.

Left Behind (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mention of death of a parent, a wittle bit of swearing Request: … Tony wants to adopt a kid and he choiced the reader. But the reader is actually Tony’s child by blood m, but he doesn’t know that. and she knows that she is relateted and hates Tony for ‘leaving’ her. …

Looking for Advice (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Request: Could you maybe do a tony stark x son male reader where the male reader ask for advise to ask a girl out

Dentist Appointment (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Request: Could you write one where the reader needs to have oral surgery to remove some problem teeth but she’s petrified to make the call. But she’s in tears all nigh from the pain? Her dad Tony stark, makes the call behind her back cause he hates seeing her in pain. When they arrive at the hospital she nearly freaks out saying he betrayed her so he hugs her and says it will be ok; but when he did that he also got her in the neck with a sedative to knock her out to make it easier on everyone? Lol

Session (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM AND DEPRESSION Request: … reader is Tony’s daughter and has a history with self harming so he sends her to therapy for depression. Tony went to intro session with y/n and she says that she doesnt cut anymore and still maintains the lie and then Tony begins to notice all of the signs that point to her self harming and realises she never actually stopped? If thats okay? If not, i understand?

Dip (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Depression, self-doubt Request: Tony stark x daughter reader where her grades slip bad because of depression and she panics but Tony’s there for her and makes sure she knows it’s okay to fail?

Helping (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Bulimia, throwing up, bullying, self conscious reader. Request: I was wondering if you would write one where the reader is Tony’s daughter (although all of them are protective of her) and she has bulimia and she gets caught purging by one of the team members.

Feeling Loved Again (Father!Tony X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Swearing Request:I had an idea. Where the reader is Tony Starks daughter (15-16 yr old) but she lives with her mom. She’s kind of tomboyish and dyes her hair funky colors so her mom gets sick of it and drops her off at the tower unexpectedly and tells tony she’s his problem now. So he gladly signs the custody papers. He totally adores her and celebrates her first night with him with take out and movies with the whole team.

Parker! (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Bit of bullying, angry over protective dad. Request: Tony Stark’s daughter is popular and in a band and at a concert, Peter is getting picked on for being alone so Reader goes and kisses him and hugs him, surprising everyone with their secret relationship, much to Tony’s disapproval.

Five Days (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) SERIOUS WARNING: EATING DISORDER Other Warnings: Bullying/ teasing Request: Hey love! I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of where the reader has been in recovery from an eating disorder and then has a hard relapse? Maybe with a platonic or father Tony Stark?

It’ll Work Out (Stony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers of Civil War, emotions Request: Hey can you do one where reader is stonys daughter and it’s just about how the family is torn apart lots of angst ends in fluff

New Environment (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of bad background and illegal activities. Request: Do you think you can do a roleplay where tonys daughter doesn’t come from the same background as him and maybe is coming from the ‘ghetto where she lived with her mom and she’s trying to act tough and stuff buts she’s actually really scared? …

Sit Down (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Injury Request: … reader sprains her ankle and still tries to do loads of things and won’t let it heal because she’s stubborn af and tony gets all protective? …

Fight Me (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader, Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Threatening (not serious) Request: Hey can I get a Tony x daughter reader where she’s always says fight me like someone says “I Was sitting there” and she says fight me ect. Anyway lots of fluff a little Peter x reader too- Og I forgot Tony x daughter reader fight me she like pure™ thanks😘

To Make You Happy (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Hints of depression Request: … She’s been depressed and going through a rough time. So to cheer her up her dad gets her a kitten even though he isn’t fond of animals. He knew she always wanted one. And she does start to cheer up and they share a dad daughter fluffy moment.

My Daughter (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mention of death of a parent Request: … Tony has a teenage daughter he didn’t know about but the mom dies, so he takes custody and introduces her around and just overall becomes a dad of a teenager? (You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable)

Supporting Dad (Tony Stark X Reader) Request: Could you do reader being Tony’s kid and they’re as smart as him and decide to go into music instead of inventing? Like with Tony being the super proud band parent at every concert or somth about him being supportive

Caring Father (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Self Conscious reader, protective father, verbal abuse, body shaming Request: … reader who is on the phone with their mom and Tony (their bf, or dad, you choose!), being the overprotective dad/bf he is, has been noticing that the reader has been skipping meals. Like, the reader would only eat around lunchtime, and sometimes dinner, but thats it. He overhears her mom chastising her about how the reader needs to lose weight, ect. Can it be really fluffy?

Delirious (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Sickness Request: Tony stark x daughter request? Where she’s sick with a really high fever and completely delirious and keeps saying crazy shit. As concerned as tony is he can’t help not to laugh at some of her antics so he takes video. When she’s better he shows her the video and they both share a laugh over it.

Bookworms (Loki X Fem!Reader) Request: Hey could I request one where the reader is Tony’s daughter and she does a bunch of reading with Loki, but finds out he hasn’t read Harry Potter, freaks, and makes him read all of them?

Your Daughter (Tony X Daughter!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Minor Spoilers of Civil War Request: ... reader is Tony’s teenage daughter and he doesn’t know about her and during the airport scene in Civil war this teenage girl arrives in an iron man suit and stops the fight and Tony’s like who are you and then she’s replies with “your daughter” ...

Telling Him (Peter Parker X Male!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of coming out and past murder Request: ... reader is Tony’s son (probably an adoption situation?) and is closeted gay… maybe after Peter is already a part of the avengers, and not during Civil War? ...

I’m Here Now (Tony X Daughter!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Mention of car crash, death, injury Request: ... Her and her mom got into a bad accident. The mom dies and reader needs a blood transfusion so when the drs test her they match her to Stark. He gets the call and rushes over. Realizing he’s a dad to a teenage girl now he has the team ready a room and he welcomes her into his heart and makes her feel extra special since she lost her mom.

Who Is It? (Tony X Daughter!Reader) | Part 2 Request: ... Tonys daughter is sitting in the living room being like ‘hey I hacked into your system 'cause I’m your super smart daughter and have no where else to go’ and Tony starts to get really protectiv over her. And then finds out that she is falling in love with Peter, but Tony is basically the last one to find out? ...

Missing My Voice (Tony X Fem!Reader, Peter x Fem!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Blood, surgery, needles, injury Request: ... reader loves to sing and play the guitar and a ton of other instruments but goes mute during a mission (due to an injury), and how it impacts Peter and Tony? And can Tony like, go to a ton of doctors and stuff to try and find a solution? ...

Sit Down (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Injury Request: ... reader sprains her ankle and still tries to do loads of things and won’t let it heal because she’s stubborn af and tony gets all protective? ...

Being Tony Stark’s Adopted Daughter Would Include…

Be Careful (Tony X Daughter!Reader, Peter X Fem!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Blood, getting shot Request: ... reader is Tony’s teenage daughter who’s dating Peter and she’s just the type of person everyone loves but she’s also a really good hacker and fighter so she does missions sometimes and she ends up getting shot? ...

Caring Father (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Self Conscious reader, protective father, verbal abuse, body shaming Request: ... reader who is on the phone with their mom and Tony ... has been noticing that the reader has been skipping meals. Like, the reader would only eat around lunchtime, and sometimes dinner, but thats it. He overhears her mom chastising her about how the reader needs to lose weight, ect. ...

Approving (Peter Parker X Reader, Tony X Daughter!Reader) Request: ... Tony says to his daughter that he doesn’t like the idea of them dating but behind her back he’s talking to the Avengers about how happy he is that his daughter found a good guy. ...

Warning Signs (Tony and Peter X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of Domestic abuse Request: ... reader goes to peter Parkers school and she also started interning at the avengers tower as a lab assistant? She gets along with the team and considers them family. She ends up not showing up at school or the tower for a few days so Peter goes to her house to check on her and finds out she’s being abused by her parents. ...

Parental Advice (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Teasing Request: ... Tony goes on with his life as an Avenger and all and it’s getting harder on him ... Meanwhile, you’re struggling with your social life ... you become pretty lonely and your favorite place is the tower with the avengers ... Finally, one morning, you and Tony are both up early(like, 4 am) and you talk to each other about your troubles. ...

Being Pepper’s Adopted Daughter and Tony Adopting You Would Include…

---

TONY STARK - FAMILIAL

A Little Dense (Tony Stark X Sister!Reader, Clint Barton X Fem!Reader) Warnings: A bit of swearing Request: Clint and tony’s sister. You are trying to tell him that Clints gonna be a dad and tony is gonna be a uncle? The rest of the team finds out at the end. Some cute and fluff.

Meeting Her Husband (Loki X Stark!Reader) Warnings: Pregnancy Request: Tony and sister reader: he and the team discover you are in a secret relationship with Loki and you both are happily married and you are a few months pregnant with loki’s baby and he is not happy about it.

A Little Talk (Tony Stark X Brother!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Swearing, alcoholism Request: one with Tony as your big brother and you’re both going through a hard time or something?

Unfinished Business (Tony X Brother!Reader) Warnings: Death, death of parents, presumed death, a lot of emotions coming your way Request: … Reader is Tony Starks brother who, at a young age, runaway and now is coming back at Tony? But like Reader has some sort of a supernatural power like seeing ppl? …

I Still Love You (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers of Civil War Request: With the stark reader and Bucky one, can you do where he blames himself for the death of readers and Tony’s parents, but she still loves him, even though Tony doesn’t allow it. Eventually Tony and reader have a heart to heart and gives her his blessing. Bucky puts aside his guilt?

Passing The Test. (Pietro X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Death threats, unplanned pregnancy, minor violence. Request: … reader being Tony´s sister. She dates Pietro for a long time and gets pregnant, and the avengers find out (exept tony) and their reaction, and at the end Tony realize because of her tummy and wants to kill pietro but at the end he is proud …

Better Choice (Tony Stark X Cousin!Reader, Peter Parker X Reader) Warnings: One swears and mentions of bed relationships and breakups Request: The reader is Tonys younger cousin (teenager) and she starts falling for Peter and tony just pets it happen because he’s better than any boyfriend the reader has had before

Where’s Nat? (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Blood. Looooots of blood. Request: teen reader has period and goes to avengers for help but Nat isn’t home – Tony is her uncle!

Overprotective much? (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: One swear word, threatening, flirting, drinking and attempted murder by an overprotective brother. Request: ... reader is Tony´s sister and she is really beautiful (thats why Tony won´t introduce her) and the avengers are surprised and start bothering Tony and he gots really jealous and protective ...

#marvel cinematic universe #tony stark #iron man #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #marvel #mcu #lazydoodlesandfanfic #lazydoodlesandfanfic masterlist

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jewish-privilege · 4 years

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...We reached out to black Jews (...) to understand their feelings at this wrenching moment and what their message is for the broader Jewish community. Here’s what they told us.

...April Baskin is a diversity consultant and racial justice director of the Jewish Social Justice Roundtable.

Personally in terms of my energy right now, I’m just exhausted. Just seeing all the suffering particularly in light of the people going out into the streets without a plan or adequate protections in place (friends, march marshalls, legal aid contact info, etc.), the poignancy of people whose politics otherwise have them mostly sheltering in place during the worst pandemic we’ve seen in over a hundred years, that they are compelled to take action — at their and our own peril. But it seems their thought is, “How can we not stand up?” As a Jewish social justice leader, I have a visceral, fundamental concern for people’s well-being in this moment — that people are very triggered and that this is all in the context of pre-existing heightened anxiety and stress because of the pandemic. And for black folks, whether it’s conscious or not, the sense of terror we feel for when is the shoe going to drop for someone we know, someone in our town, for us?

I am experiencing more white Jews sending me private messages. A lot of them are saying “What can we do?” and in time I hope we can advance our collective knowledge and education enough so it can become more of “I’ve been proactively learning from people of color and here is what I am doing,” or “These are the things I’m considering. I’m mostly leaning towards this one, does that sound like it’s in alignment with your vision?”

That said, it’s a step forward and it’s good, but it’s asking more of us as Jews of color to not only figure out how to maintain our jobs and do additional leadership and activism in this moment, but then also being asked to support and manage white Jews’ work during a time in which many of us are traumatized and heartbroken. But this is progress, and I would rather people reach out, however they best know how, than apathy and not doing anything or paralysis from fear.

...Yitz Jordan is the founder of

TribeHerald

, a publication for Jews of color, and a hip hop artist also known as Y-Love.

What am I feeling? Anxiety. That’s what I’m feeling. I had an anxiety attack on Friday. I live in the ‘hood, I live in Bushwick, so I’m not really geographically in the Jewish community, but I know that somebody on Friday for instance was shot not too far from me and I was terrified as to what the response to that was going to be, were cops going to respond and was rioting going to happen in my neighborhood?

And in the Jewish community, this is the kind of fight that I’m having: “This didn’t happen after the Holocaust, why are black people acting like this?” It’s that role of explaining over and over again to people who quite often don’t want to listen.

I feel like there’s the same split that’s going through America in ideological lines, is going through the Jewish community … whatever percent of Orthodox Jews that support Trump, you see it more from these people. When we say the Jewish community in general that also consists of people like JFREJ [Jews for Racial and Economic Justice] and Jewish Voice for Peace and these other organizations, but in the Orthodox world, the pro-Trump wing is where I’m hearing these types of conversations. And I’m seeing this, ranging from lack of knowledge to callousness regarding people of color. There are some people who genuinely don’t know, and to whom a lot of these issues are very new. Especially Hasidish people, for instance, this just isn’t part of the Shabbos-table conversation — police brutality, inequality, systemic racism. But you have some people who just show callousness.

Gulienne Rishon is a diversity expert and chief revenue officer for TribeHerald Media.

I am thankful for true allies, who understand that this is not the time to center their own experiences. I am thankful for true allies, who understand that the experiences they and their ancestors have had are to be used in this moment as empathy, and that no one is denying them their experiences in asking them to listen and learn.

But mostly, if one more white-presenting Jew tries to tell me today that they don’t have white privilege (not that they aren’t White, but that they don’t have white privilege) because they’re Jewish/the Holocaust/Jews got kicked out of schools, I might lose my mind. I should not have to deal with people telling me that my story (the Black part) doesn’t exist because my story (the Ashkenazi experience) exists. But I do. And I am confident that part of why G-d put me in the skin of a biracial Jewish woman descended from a kindertransport survivor, a WWII veteran who was kicked out of his Hamburg Gymnasium for being Jewish, and two Southern Black Virginians, is to help us as a people face our sinat chinam and take responsibility for being the light unto the nations by helping, not closing our ranks and denying the pain others feel because of the freshness of ours.

Facilitating difficult conversations about race is literally my profession. Yet, some days, I’m just a person behind a keyboard on Facebook who came out of our day of rest hearing that the world erupted in flames, and I look at the beautiful brown skin of my daughter and her parents, and I’m angry and afraid. I’ve worked so hard to have these conversations with grace when you’re caught up in your feelings about the complexity. On a day when it’s not about the complexity, but processing and mourning actual death, can you please give the same grace to mine?

...Anthony Mordechai Tzvi Russell is

a musician

who blends traditional Yiddish and African-American music.

Let’s get real here, American Jews: You are living in an Old Country, whether you choose to recognize it or not. The state-sanctioned violence visited upon Black communities happens in ghettos you can easily pronounce, in towns you visit without the aid of a tour guide and cities you reside in without a granted law of return.

So, who are you in this narrative, this country from which there is no real option of flight, this century which is your own, your heartless ruler, hands slick with the blood of children and refugees, the cavalries, maintaining “order” on your behalf over a people whose mere existence for centuries has been deemed disorderly?

Solidarity with Black people doesn’t require a radical act of historical imagination. You are here. We are here. You know what to do. Do it. Now.

Tema Smith is a writer and the director of professional development at 18Doors, an organization for interfaith families.

I’m deeply upset about George Floyd and also that he is not the first and not the last, and that it’s taken a murder so egregious to really get people out into the streets in this way, and get a lot of people to wake up to what happens unfortunately too frequently.

I also have deep gratitude for the moment that we’re in, for so many people who hadn’t previously spoken out are speaking out.

As far as the Jewish community, the number of people who either have spoken out publicly or who have reached out privately as people who just care and want to make sure that me and other Jews of color are feeling OK right now — and I think most of my friends who are Jews of color are experiencing similar things from their friends — is huge. Frankly, I’ve gotten messages from people who I’ve never corresponded with beyond public tweets, just reaching out saying ‘Are you OK?’ and a recognition that is in many ways at a new level.

This isn’t the first time that something like this has happened. This is the first time I’ve received messages from so many people and that makes me hopeful for that grassroots community level being there to support each other, and that is huge. And the fact that there is a growing chorus of voices in the Jewish community speaking up, that’s huge, and that people are showing up at protests, I can’t say enough of how meaningful it is to see that...

#black lives matter #Black Jews #African American Jews #anti black racism

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bookaddict24-7 · 3 years

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I said at the beginning of the year that I would share my reviews more on my blog instead of just on Instagram and Goodreads. I’ve been reading a lot so far this year, so my reviews will be delayed on here.

Friend me on Goodreads here to read my reviews in real-time!

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107. Amari and the Night Brothers by B.B. Alston--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Wow, this book had more of a punch than I anticipated! I think books like this one are super important--not just because of the content, but because of the audience it's geared towards. Young readers now are learning more and more about society than a lot of us did at their age, so I think it's perfectly fitting that a book like this one is out there for kids to devour. One of the things I liked the most about this book was the allegory of racism in a magical community. Usually in fantastical novels for kids (older ones, anyway), there's this belief that no matter what you look like, the moment you go to another magical place all of your worries about racism goes away because MAGIC. But in this one, not only did our MC have to contend with the racism in her normal life, she had to face more racism in her new life, just with a new title. So many of the actions taken against her by those around her, and the comments (like putting her brother on a pedestal because he was the star of the school and calling him the exception to the rule, or one girl actively telling her that "You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but not the ghetto out of the girl) really made me think that this poor kid went from one ignorant situation to another. Not only is she trying to find her brother and solve the mystery of his disappearance, but she also has to deal with racist and ignorant people around her. Imagine calling a child evil because of something they can't control. Imagine going out of your way to ensure that they fail. Imagine you or your child hearing the things this child heard while trying to just do her best in a system that's always been made to be against her, both in the human world and in the magic world. Imagine, imagine, imagine. Another thing I loved about this book was her resilience. She is brave, and smart, and has such a big future in this new world of hers. I'm so excited to read the rest of this series as it comes out. This book was POWERFUL and I highly recommend it. Not just for the young readers in your life, but I think parents and other readers would highly benefit from reading Amari's story.

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108. Mindy Kim & the Yummy Seaweed Business by Lyla Lee--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Okay, this book was ADORABLE. I haven’t read a 6-8 book in a long time and I’m thankful to my friend on Instagram who recommended these books! Mindy has to deal with not only her grief about losing her mom and her dad’s busy schedule (as well as his own grief), but she’s also at a new school in a new State where she is the only Asian student. I’ve mentioned this in some of my most recent reviews, but I love that these important topics are being discussed in children’s books. We see moments of racism in this book where Mindy is left upset, even if she doesn’t fully understand just why certain comments and actions are so hurtful. And even if she doesn’t dwell on it, a parent reading this with their little one would notice and hopefully learn if they see their own behaviours mirrored in the actions of some of these adults. But we also see moments of kindness and love as a young girl tries her best to find ways to make her dad happy. Despite the heavier undertones in this book, there was an overall feel of sweetness and childhood innocence. The ability to apologize when you know you’re in the wrong, the innocence of emotions getting away from you, and the sweetness of a daughter loving her father. This was a great read and I highly recommend it for everyone, but especially the little ones in your life who will be entering situations where books like these and their lessons are really important.

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109. The Dead Zone by Stephen King--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one, I felt, held more of an emotional punch rather than a creepy feeling. I really enjoyed it! I loved the psychic angle and the MC proving the people who didn’t believe him or mocked wrong. Also, this was a King book that actually made me want to cry at the end. I didn’t give it a 5 because of some really slow moments. While I love that his stories always have a way of coming together at the end, certain scenes sometimes feel long, boring, or confusing. I’d recommend this for anyone who wants to read a King book that isn’t scary and if you’re a fan of 11/22/63!

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110. Takane & Hana Vol. 1 by Yuki Shiwasu--⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one took me a while to read. I found that I wasn’t really in the mood to read it every time I picked it up—which is so different from when I pick up a manga I really want to read. The story had some funny bits and the artwork was gorgeous, but it really bugged me how every new chapter re-introduced the love interest. Over and over and over again. I get it: he’s rich, arrogant, and an asshole. Can’t you trust us to remember these key personality traits? But it wasn’t even just that. We were constantly re-introduced to the premise of the story. I don’t know how common this is WITHIN the same volume, but I haven’t encountered it yet—and if I have, it wasn’t as annoying as this one. I’ll keep reading the story because I’m curious, but this first volume was a bit of a rougher read for me.

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111. You Have A Match by Emma Lord--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

I think the thing with this book is that the cover tells a different story than what really matters in this book. Yes, there’s a friends to more relationship in this, but the main storyline is about two girls who find out they’re sisters and are trying to solve that mystery. This isn’t a romcom—the romance is a super side story to the main storyline. And to be honest, I really enjoyed it. I wanted to see why these two sisters lived their whole life separated. I enjoyed the process and the friendships created along the way. I felt for the parents, but at the same time, I felt more for the girls. There were instances where I wanted to yell at the parents because they kept putting the reveal off. This was enjoyable overall—a great summer read. Not particularly memorable, but it does what it sets out to do: makes you question the strength of friendships and what they can overcome. Also, Instagram.

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112. Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

When my friend raved about this book I was both excited and intimidated. I usually try to avoid hypes surrounding books because I go in with too-high expectations and a lot of the time, the expectations crush me while I’m reading. Thankfully, the hype is very well-deserved with this one. For me, the most important aspect of this book that stuck with me wasn’t the mystery surrounding the MC’s cousin’s death, but the character growth the MC himself experiences during the time of his investigation. Identity sounds like a pretty clear cut thing sometimes, but it’s a lot harder to know your own when you’re the child of an immigrant family. You live in a new country, get accustomed to new expectations and customs, and inevitably feel a culture shock when you’re re-introduced to the culture your parents grew up in. I saw myself so much in this MC. From my childhood to my current adult years, people have thought that they could define me and who I am simply because I say I’m this or this. But while others make a quick judgment, they don’t see the internal struggle. They don’t see you questioning yourself on whether you’re enough of this, or whether you’re enough of that. I think teenage me would have loved this book even more. The MC is constantly faced with criticism about his father choosing to move them to the States from the Philippines. The judgments and the preconceived notions of him and his family make him not only weary because he recalls how his uncle treated his father the first time he visited, but also wary because it sets him down this road of self-reflection. I haven’t read many (if any, unfortunately) books where a character goes to the Philippines. I’m so thankful to this book. I learned so much about the culture, the foods, and the struggles faced not just financially, but politically as well. I remember reading about some of the topics brought up in this book and it was extremely eye-opening. It’s so easy for us to look away because we have that privilege, but this book says, “No, look at me. I exist.” The MC, in his journey, also learns to speak up and use his voice. Not just against ignorant friends, but an annoyingly smug and verbally abusive uncle (who I hated to all hell). He also learns to listen. He learns that though not every story is perfect, they still have power. I think this is a great read for those who have one foot in two different worlds (hands and arms can be in other worlds, too). Especially if you’re trying to understand this part of you that wasn’t developed as you grew up. I’d also recommend it to readers who want to learn more about this struggle, learn more about a different culture that is more than its stereotypes, and/or want to read about a young teenager trying to come to terms with his grief and guilt.

___ Have you read any of these books? Would you recommend them?

___

Happy reading!

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sn0tcl0wn · 3 years

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rant incoming (don't worry it's not me being mad, i'm just really hype about a book i'm rereading):

i'm genuinely shocked there's never been an uptick in interest in storm thief by chris wooding on this site. like of all places. it's a gothic dystopian YA novel with cyber and dieselpunk vibes with its main characters being a black disabled boy and a girl with chronic illness who live in the ghettos of a society that's built on greed and the bodies of people like them. there's a resistance and the fall of two civilisations. there's also a morally gray monster man. it's a book that's been living rent free in my mind since 2006. i'm currently rereading it as i do every so often and not only is it beautifully written and still holds up but the premise alone seems like the exact thing people would put on lists of diverse dystopian YA fiction or unique books for people who like dystopian fiction, steam/cyber/dieselpunk, gothic sci-fi, or eldritch horror. it has all of those aspects and i think a lot of people are missing out. it's also only one book and it's not too long meaning there's less commitment for people who don't want to read a whole series or start a series and never finish it (i hate doing that and yet i always do).

it's on my list of books i always wished there was an active fandom for because it's honestly one of the coolest fucking book i ever read growing up and much of the imagery it paints and it's story still inspire me to this day. it's at the top of my list of books i'd adapt if i had the chance and something i think people should give a shot. please read storm thief if you get a chance.

also kinda spoiler alert but also everything i'm saying next is either obvious early on (in a good story telling way, not lazy writing way) or straight up on the back of the book;

if y'all do read this book and i end up getting any messages from people whining about the cishetness of the characters i will scream because interracial friendship and love is just as revolutionary as trans and gay friendship and love. like the last time i suggested it to a group of people they complained about it "being basic YA" and "making the straight boy and girl fall in love" and to this day i'm still tight about that shit. like first of all it's obvious from the second they're introduced that they have little crushes on each other and their chemistry is really sweet and natural. it's a good m/f couple and one of the few genuinely sweet and healthy ones i read in YA fiction as a kid (ig you can argue codependency but they're just trying to keep the other one alive). second of all (and more importantly) until this book i had NEVER read a book with a black kid with dreadlocks from the ghetto being the hero of a sci-fi novel let alone being the dude on the cover AND getting the girl even though she's white. like ????? that was a Life Changing Experience for me and if you can't see why i really cannot trust you.

until i was 11 i only read about characters like me and the kids i grew up with in the hood in realistic fiction about being poor and black and sad all the time. this was the first teen novel i remember picking up about a black boy that didn't involve drive by shootings and the kind of racism i already saw and experienced every day. he was out there running from monsters and dodging eldritch storms while uncovering the ancient secrets of a chaos ridden society all while needing a respirator to breathe and wearing a dope gasmask fit. his name isn't some stereotypical "black" name, it's rail which is weird but i always thought that was cool as fuck. he's a character that if he wasn't described as "dark skinned and dreadlocked" in his intro, people would just up and assume he's white because you know why. his blackness is not his character, it's just a trait and he's treated like any other teenage orphan thief archetype only he's way fucking cooler because he has a gas mask and a dope ass artifact.

i will not tolerate any rail or rail/moa slander. he's a bad ass mother fucker and she's an equally bad ass secondary protag who's parents were rebels against the unjust political and economic powers at be and follow in their footsteps. she's also a very active participant in the story even though she could easily have been nothing more than a helpless damsel due to her waifish and sickly presence.

their friends to more arc is a part of the story's progression and their character growth, it is not the main plot point and i'm only spoiling that explicitly because if y'all really don't want to read a story with a m/f couple you can avoid this. but i will say that if you are among the shockingly common many who will straight up tune out when a guy and girl fall in love i really do think you have issues. like i get when it's forced in a really obnoxious way but a lot of y'all will read absolute garbage just because it's gay rep and then sleep on shit like this or other really cool books like hold me closer necromancer (completely different topic but i will rant about that next cause it's my next reread). it's sad to me y'all actively choose to miss out on cool shit because you apparently hate straight people so much that it will completely ruin something that's unique in every other way.

and again, highkey sick of people writing off m/f interracial couples as if the idea of black men being with white women isn't still demonized irl and rare in the media. this book was for kids, written in the mid 00s, and it managed to do what most mainstream media still rarely ever does.

#long post #rant #babbles #im reading again :)#and i am apparently VERY passionate about it :D

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braincoins · 3 years

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for DA Shallura

I’ve been doing a series of posts about basic Dragon Age canon for my DA fic series, Dragon Age: Schism. HOWEVER, my Dragon Age AU for Shallura has slightly different background (it takes place before DA:O, and thus before any of DA:S) and I include headcanons and whatnot for DA:S in those info posts.

So I thought I’d make One post with all the info that @tybalt-tisk or anyone else could need to make sense of what’s going on in that fic specifically. Some of this will be copy-pasted from what I’ve already done for DA:S because c’mon why write it twice? But everything here should give the necessary bgd for that fic. If you want/need to ask me other questions, feel free!

With credit, as always, to @yslanam who started this by first suggesting a DA AU for Shallura. And if you make it to the end, there’s pretty Mitz art! (Or you could skip to it, I know, but... be good, hm?)

Our story takes place in the country of Ferelden on the continent Thedas. Ferelden is basically Fantasy England (though not an island and not shaped that way), and is about the same size and climate (though it’s south of the equator, not north of it).

Shiro was born Takashi Shirogane in a small village where everyone knew everyone else and he liked it there. Loved it there, really. He signed on to be in his bann’s (the noble who ruled the land and its village) army, as did another young man from his town (whose name Shiro rarely speaks now). They served honorably and well and fell in love.

And then they were called to battle. Shiro survived: plus a scar and some new white hair, but minus his right arm, which was too badly injured and had to be amputated. Shiro’s lover didn’t make it, though. Shiro was discharged with pay and a small bonus, but that money would run out eventually. He’s not sure what to do with himself, and he overhears people talking about what a shame it is, such a young man now destined to just wither away because, well, he’s basically worthless now. Can’t work a farm, can’t fight in wars. It hits him hard. He wants to prove himself worthy of... of something, anything, just to prove them wrong.

That’s what brings him to the Grey Wardens.

Allura is a city elf. Elves are second-class citizens - at best - amongst humans, and the city elves live in ghettos called “alienages.” Her father was the Elder of the Highever (a city in Ferelden) Alienage: the man in charge, basically. That didn’t mean Allura behaved though; even as a child, she would rant about how elves were people just like humans and they deserved better treatment. This didn’t win her a lot of friends; most city elves learn quick that yelling about the truth just draws a whole lot of unwelcome - and often armed - attention.

But then it was discovered that Allura had magic, and she was taken off to the Tower of the Circle of Magi to be trained... and supervised. If there’s anything worse than being an elf in Ferelden, it’s being a mage. Mages, if they aren’t careful, can basically be possessed by demons and then they kill a bunch of people and it’s a bad scene. Therefore most people fear mages, and the Chantry - the main religious organization on the continent and damn near the only one in Ferelden - has created Templars to watch over the mages of the Circle.

The Templars are also known as “mage-hunters” because that’s one of their main duties: running down mages who try to flee their gilded cage. They also kill any mage suspected of being demon-possessed. And they’re posted all throughout the Tower, watching... always watching...

Allura liked learning magic but hated that this is how it’s done. She’s just been moved from one cage to another, and she wasn’t silent about that either. Things came to a head after she became an official mage; she saw a Templar about to force himself on a fellow mage, who was terrified of the man. She got angry and killed the man, straight out. She should have been killed, made Tranquil (basically magical lobotomy) or sent to Aeonar, the mage prison, but Duncan, the Warden-Commander, was there visiting and recruited her away, instead.

That’s what brings her to the Grey Wardens.

And that’s where she meets Shiro.

So, really now, what is a Grey Warden? Well, that depends on who you ask. To most people outside the order, the Grey Wardens are a glorious order of noble heroes! And why is that? Well, they’re immune to the darkspawn taint (which usually kills people) and so they can safely slay darkspawn! They’re also the only ones who can stop Blights!! …though this last bit of information is often forgotten, given that Blights happen once every few centuries.

If you ask me, the Grey Wardens are the biggest dick move in Thedas, which is actually part of why I love them. Here’s all the downsides to joining this “glorious order”:

First of all, the Right of Conscription. Ferelden has it; not sure if other nations in Thedas do? Anyway, it means that Grey Wardens can recruit anyone at any time. In practice, they have to be careful how they wield this tool (especially in Ferelden), but the RoC has been used to save people from hangings or other deadly fates… on the condition that they become a Warden Recruit. So… didn’t want to be Warden Recruit? TOO BAD, YOU ARE NOW. And no, you don’t get a say in the RoC. (Allura was RoC’d, to keep the commander of the Templars from killing her.)

Second of all, there’s the Joining. It turns out that, in order to become a Grey Warden, you have to drink darkspawn blood. And a bunch of other stuff in there, but really now, DRINKING DARKSPAWN BLOOD. You might recognize this as a stupidly dangerous thing to do, given that darkspawn blood KILLS THINGS. But your options are drink it or die, because the Grey Wardens present at the Joining will kill you if you try to back out after learning about this. If you drink from the Joining chalice, you also might die, but your name will be remembered as a Grey Warden at least? Even though you’re dead. And hey, if you live, you… become “immune” to the darkspawn taint, which is to say you’re already fucking tainted so it’s not like it can get worse. Want to know why the Grey Wardens don’t tell people they’re gonna make them drink darkspawn blood? Well, if they did that, people wouldn’t want to join, and we need Grey Wardens.

Supposing you survive the Joining, there’s the shortened lifespan (10-30 years depending on your sources) and the nightmares (that maybe you can learn to tune out). Again, they don’t tell you this until afterwards. Why? Because then people might not want to become Grey Wardens… yadda yadda. (Shiro might not speak Adam’s name anymore but he sure does yell it some nights, jolting out of a night terror and back to reality.)

Oh, and forget about having kids! It’s very difficult if not impossible to have children as a Grey Warden! (Not like they let mages have kids in the Circle. And Shiro’d been in love with a man, so he was okay with not having biological children anyway.)

At some point, even if you were able to tune the nightmares out, they’ll come back and there’ll be nothing you can do about it. That’s the first sign of The Calling. Because it turns out that the Joining is really just turning you into a ghoul, except very, very slowly. You’re getting close to Ghoul-dom now. Most Grey Wardens choose to die in battle against the darkspawn rather than waiting to be turned. It’s tradition.

And if there’s a Blight going on? Oh, well, it turns out that the only way to kill an Archdemon is to sacrifice a Grey Warden. Why didn’t they tell you? DO YOU EVEN HAVE TO ASK NOW?!

The motto of the Grey Wardens is “In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice.”

So what I’m saying is that Grey Wardens are SUPER TRAGIC BADASSES. They also wind up pretty cut off from their former lives, so the Wardens become their family. So, basically, SUPER TRAGIC BADASS FOUND FAMILY.

Shiro and Allura get close because it turns out they work well together as a fighting pair: he as a warrior, she as a mage. Even with only one arm, Shiro can at least protect Allura as she takes shit out. They’re quickly a unit, just the two of them, always sent out together. It’s no wonder it starts to blossom into love.

But Allura sees that Shiro wants to do more than just protect and shield bash, so she starts trying to figure out how to make him a prosthetic: one worthy of a Grey Warden. One... worthy of him.

There are different schools of magic: Creation is the healing branch, and it seems natural to try to work with that some, but in the end, Allura has to also dip into a forbidden school: Blood Magic. Blood Magic has the reputation of being evil because you’re using people’s blood - people’s life forces - to power your spells. After growing up in the Tower, she’s understandably nervous about using it.

But she talks about it with Shiro, and although he might otherwise be scared of Blood Magic, she tells him she doesn’t need a lot of it, it won’t kill him, and... well, it’s her. He trusts her. And she works hard to be worthy of that trust, she goes over this spell she’s created several times. It should work to attach the arm - made of silverite, a very powerful and durable metal - to him so he can use it.

She just forgot about the darkspawn taint coursing through him. His blood is not normal. And there are some... side effects from messing with it.

I do recommend reading this post (it’s kinda 1/2 meta, 1/2 fic) but if you don’t want to, the short version is that Shiro has trouble controlling his arm at first and so he pushes Allura away because he’s afraid of hurting her. She takes that as a well-deserved rebuke because she did this to him.

Eventually they scream it all out at each other: he loves her, he was afraid for her, she feels guilty and is so afraid he’ll leave her, etc. They settle down and start working together on figuring out how Shiro can better control this thing. At the beginning of this fic, he’s gotten the hang of it now.

I’ll put up pictures of their uniforms when I can, and other than that, you should be good to go! I know this was long, sorry. Here, have some pretty @mitzoco art:

#DA Shallura #Dragon Age 101 for Shallura fans

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i-stan-nct-and-satan · 4 years

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Not Broken (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Not Broken Masterlist

Jaehyun X Reader

Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?

Reasons to read this story: Ten's a cross-dressing madam so..... yeah read it ya freaks.

Trigger warning for this chapter: mentions of non-consensual touching.

Bold means it’s being said in English

A/N: This story will be released in several parts and each part released will have its own trigger warnings. It’s a slow burn story but there will be smut in later parts. Jaehyun won’t actually be introduced in the first two parts, but I hope you’ll read anyway. This story is actually inspired by my year preforming as a burlesque dancer in Seoul. The burlesque group was actually an inclusive group that frequently featured drag kings and queens.

"Kakao!"

I opened my eyes and groaned as I looked at my phone.

8:37pm. I'm late.

"Fuck"

Kakao alert from Jungwoo: "Dude, where are you? The Madam is gonna be here soon. If you're late again, she's not gonna let you preform."

I grabbed at my aching head as I read the message.

Why does it hurt so bad?

I looked over at my nightstand and saw the answer in the form of several empty bottles of soju. I could barely remember anything from the previous night, but from the looks of my bedroom, I seemed to have been by myself. I stood up to grab some water, ignoring the message from Jungwoo. Apparently he must have seen that I read it since my phone soon started vibrating and spewing out kakao talk notifications at an irritatingly fast pace.

After chugging a full bottle of water in an attempt to sooth my throbbing head, I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and washed my face. In the mirror I saw that I hadn’t even attempted to wash the eyeliner from the yesterday off before passing out. What was originally a subtle thin black line had now smudged over the entirety of my lid and the concave of my under eyes. I looked trashed, no, dead was a better way to put it.

I roughly rubbed the smudged mess off my face with a washcloth. I didn’t bother applying a new face of makeup since I knew that I'd be expected to put it on at the venue anyway.

I quickly gathered up my make up supplies and shoved them into my backpack. I grabbed the tote bag containing my costume along with my phone and left the trashed one-bedroom apartment, not bothering to change out of the black sweatshirt and torn jeans I woke up in. It wasn't unusual for me to fall asleep or "pass out" in my day clothes.

It wasn't that I didn't have any pajamas to change into, it was more an issue of being too drunk to care. Right now, my reasons for not putting on a new outfit was that I was too hungover not to mention the fact that I was very late.

I walked down the halls of my building, choosing to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Although anyone who stepped foot into my room would believe that I must have lived in the ghetto, my building was actually quite nice. I just happened to be a very messy person and it must show in how I present myself because my neighbors often go out of their ways to avoid me. The only person in the building who I'm actually close with is the doorman.

"Goodmorning Hyuck." I say as I grabbed my headphones out of my bag.

"Hello, Miss Y/LN." He greeted me as he held the door open for an elderly couple as they exited the building.

I chuckled at his formality. As the elderly couple walked out of sight, I turned to the short male.

"How do you do?" I said mockingly to the uniformed doorman.

Donghyuck looked up at me and rolled his eyes.

"You know that I have to keep up appearances when I'm on the clock,” He scowled.

“Hey, do you have a show tonight?" He asked.

"How can you tell?"

"Well you said good morning to me and it's nighttime so... I just assumed that means you're planning on staying up."

I looked at him sheepishly. Donghyuck knew about my nighttime activities, yet he still treated me with the same respect he gave to all the other people living in the building. That didn't mean that he didn't use casual language with me every chance he got. His reasoning being that we've drank together so many times that it shouldn't matter that he's a few years younger than me. I don't mind, in fact, I think it would be weird if he spoke politely to me since I've never been polite to him a day in my life.

My eyes buldged slightly due to the sudden realization that I only had an hour to get from Hongdae to Ittaewon.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later DongFuck!" I yelled as I ran out the door.

"HEY!!!" He screamed back at me.

I ran to Hongik exit 9 and into the sea of people trying to get to where they needed to begin their own nighttime activities. As I stepped onto the subway, I noticed that some people were already drunk. I spotted some drunk ajushi's yelling at this blonde girl asking if she's a Russian prostitute. I roll my eyes and walked over to her.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up at me and nodded. The old men started directing their comments at me instead of her.

It's better that they act this way towards me. They're comments will be justified if they talk about me.

The girl snuck away without giving me another glance and I started to feel relieved until a hand landed on my shoulder. I kept still but my eyes glanced at the screen displaying the stops.

Only 3 more stops. I just have to cope for 3 more stops.

The hand moved toward my chest and I continued to stay still.

If I move away, they'll just keep doing it to the other girl.

The hand felt slimy, coated with a thick layer of sweat. It was disgusting. I tried to brush the hand away to prevent it from sliding further south, but my attempts were futile as the man continued to touch me.

It wasn't until the old man caressing me grabbed at my necklace that I turned to face him and pulled my fist back.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I ran out of the subway gripping on to my broken necklace and bags. When I had punched the stranger he fell back taking my necklace with him, breaking its clasp in the process. The only thought in my mind was to get as far away from the subway exit as possible. It was my fourth year living in Seoul and I knew how things worked. The man could have had his dick out, but there was no way that the police would believe a foreigner like me over him.

After arriving at the venue, I greeted the girls at the door and quickly found the bathroom to collect myself. My hair was sticking out of my ponytail and slicked to my face with sweat. I checked to make sure I still had all my things, most importantly, the necklace.

I looked down at the green emerald pendant. It was about a 3 centimeters long circle wrapped in a gold-plated setting, strung on a matching gold chain. Everything about the necklace was beautiful except for the broken clasp.

"Oh my god Y/N! You are so late."

I jumped at the sudden voice.

"Sorry Snoopy."

It was Jungwoo. I hadn't noticed him come in despite the loud clacking of his heels.

"I guess it's no big deal. To be honest, I'm pretty sure that the Madam hasn't even noticed that you weren't here earlier. She was just going crazy backstage looking for her wig. You should have seen her. It was so funny."

Jungwoo started speaking in a high pitched voice trying to imitate the madam.

"Where's my hair? Where's my hair?"

We both started cracking up at the impersonation.

"Come one!" Jungwoo said as he grabbed my hand, still laughing.

"You're the only one who’s not even close to being done with makeup," He continued.

As he walked me out of the bathroom and towards the dressing rooms, I examined his costume. He wore a long burgundy red velvet dress with long white sleeves. On his head, he adorned a long brunette wig. It seemed to be a very cheap wig as it was already starting to knot into a rat’s nest. Overall, it was a very modest outfit compared to the blue latex mini skirt with neon green tassel pasties he wore during our last show.

"What's your act tonight?" I asked.

"Wonho and I are doing a titanic theme tonight. You would know this if you actually came to our last practice."

Jungwoo was one of the burlesque queens. There were many in the group as they made up almost half of the dancers. Since Ittaewon was filled with foreigners, the queer scene was thriving here and it really showed in our burlesque group.

"What happened to your necklace?"

"Oh I broke it on the subway." I replied hoping Jungwoo wouldn't inquire further.

Luckily for me, he didn't.

"Want me to fix it for you?" He said as he examined the jewelry in my hands.

"It's just a broken clasp right?"

"You would fix it for me?" I asked as I hand the necklace to the feminine male.

"Yeah of course! My costume jewelry breaks all the time. Damn the heavy things. This should only take a few minutes. I'll go get my tools."

Without another word, Jungwoo left, allowing me to get started on my makeup. Tonight I was supposed to be the final act, as per usual, which meant that my costume was the most extravagant.

For my makeup, I applied gold lipstick along with gold eyeliner, and a glitter highlight. The theme of my act was, you guessed it, gold. Even my costume was brimming with gold detailing. All fake of course, but it was still dripping with elegance. I quickly wrapped my hair into a hairnet and put on my white-blonde wig.

I had been preforming for around two years now. I found the group through a friend who had ended up leaving Korea. I quickly proved myself to be one of the best dancers in the group although some people liked to focus on my lack of attendance even though my acts often recieved the most praise out of every show.

It's not that I thought I was better than my fellow dancers. It's just that I happened to do quite well for myself as a dancer. Through dancing alone, I've been able to pay for my apartment in Hongdae, pay off my student loans, and my other debts, all while being able to afford a few luxuries here and there.

I began to take off my day clothes before I was interrupted when a familiar face entered the dressing room.

The Madam.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I sneered at the short figure that approached me.

"Haven't you ever heard of coming on time?" The figure snarkily replied, taking a drag from her cigarette.

The Madam, or Madam Ten, as some of us called her, was the leader of the group. She directed the show, organized it, taught choreography, and had final call on every detail of our preformances.

The thing about The Madam, was that she wasn't exactly a madam. Like Jungwoo, she was a drag queen, but she committed to the role more. None of us had ever actually seen the older out of drag. Some assumed that she may have identified as a woman, since anytime anyone said differently, she would scoff and often would reply with the same two answers.

When it was a woman addressing her as a man, she would say something like,

"Darling. When you refer to me as a he, you are merely pointing out the sad truth that even a man can easily be prettier than you."

When it was a man, she would walk up to the poor soul and say something vulgar, such as "You won't be calling me a he when you are screaming my name later."

Madam Ten was roughly in her 50's yet she was still dripping in womanly charm and beauty. Her face was wrinkled from all the years of smoking cigarettes, but she had more knowledge about seduction than all of us, so her age rarely mattered to the men around her.

She wore her hair in a sort pixie cut. Her red dress draped to the floor. She had an array of colorful scarves wrapped around her neck and shoulders. Heavy jewelry adorned her fingers and neck. Her ruby lips wrapped around the long black straw that was encasing the end of her cigarette.

"On a normal night, I would have given your act to Eunwoo as punishment for your... tardiness."

I raised my eyebrows.

"But...?" I questioned anticipating her to continue her explanation.

"But despite Eunwoo's ability being equal to yours, in my opinion even better..." She continued, snarkily mumbling the last part.

"He's lacking your certain assets, which I believe our special audience members would prefer tonight." She cooed, not even trying to be subtle about staring at my undressed body.

"Special audience members?" I asked as I turned away to find my costume.

"It seems as though our venue has been...reserved for a private party this evening."

"The whole venue?" I gasped.

"Yes. And it seems as though I've had to make some last-minute changes to the show tonight in order to appeal to our audience's specific tastes."

"What kinds of changes?" I inquired, continuing to dress myself.

"Sadly, tonight is going to focus on the more traditionally feminine tonight. It's such a shame that men nowadays are still so afraid to explore their sexualities." She rested her hand on her face as if she were genuinely contemplating something.

I started zipping up my costume before I realized what she was implying.

"Jungwoo's not going to be allowed to perform tonight is he?"

Madam Ten walked up behind me and pulled the zipper of my costume up the remainder of my back.

"We are all expected to make sacrifices sometimes."

This wasn't fair. Jungwoo worked harder than me at everything he did. It wasn't fair that I should get to preform while he's expected to roll over just because some last-minute guests didn’t want to see a drag queen preform burlesque.

And what about the Madam? Madam Ten would never change the line-up for a show just to appease the preferences of some rich snooty straight assholes. In the past, whenever an audience member complained about the less conventional dancers, it would end with her having the source of the complaint swiftly thrown to the curb. The Madam often referred to these men as lacking taste or ability to appreciate the real artistry of burlesque, but tonight she's acting as if her submission isn't even something to be questioned.

Whoever could afford to rent out the whole venue must have a lot of both money and power to cause the Madam to act this way. Who could these guests be in order for the Madam to choose to compromise the show's integrity?

"I should go talk to Jungwoo." I commented as I turned to leave the room, but Madam Ten stops me, grabbing my hand.

"I already sent him home." She explained reaching into the pocket of her dress.

"But he did leave me this to give to you."

She turned me so that I was facing the full length mirror and wraps my newly fixed necklace around my neck. I was unable to examine the fixed clasp, but it's ability to stay on my neck reassured me of it's functionality.

Madam Ten started walking out of the dressing room, motioning for me to follow. She walked towards the backstage curtains. Once we arrived Madam Ten slung her arms gently around my shoulders and brought her lips closer to my ears.

"Tell me Y/N, are you familiar with NCT 127?"

My eyes bulged upon hearing the name. NCT 127 was one of the most infamous Mafia gangs in Seoul. Specializing in drug trade and weapon imports, NCT 127 was known for it's ties with the police, making it the gang untouchable. Besides that, most people don't know very much about the group. People know that it exists, but most of the group's actions completed with such secrecy that no one outside of the group is completely sure about the how far their reach is. Some have specified that they have so much power in Seoul that even the president had been accused of being in the leader's pocket.

I turned to face the Madam.

"It seems as though they will be making up our audience this evening."

Madam Ten lifted back the curtain ever so slightly revealing the faces within the crowd. Missing, were the familiar faces of our loyal regulars, only to be replaced with more intimidating facades. Tough looking men wearing dashing suits littered the tables and bar areas. Many were sitting down in an organized manor, but even more were standing in small groups, wondering around, probably to get a drink, or worse, to harass the waitresses.

It was in this moment that I felt somewhat relieved that Jungwoo was sent home. I couldn't even imagine how these men would treat a man in drag if this was how they treated the female staff.

Cat calls made up most of the noise in the room, yet it seemed as though they were all coming from a small group of men seated at the main table.

It was normal for us to seat astonished guests at the table closest to center stage. This way, whoever was deemed important enough to be seated there, could have the best view of the performers. Also, since the stage wasn't elevated, the performers would often walk into the crowd attempting to raise audience participation. Sometimes it would be asking an audience member to help remove an article of clothing. Other times it could be a full-on lap dance, depending on how wild or trustworthy the audience was that particular night. Either way, audience participation was always centered around this table.

Seated at/surrounding the table were five men. They all looked to be in their early or late twenties. Although everyone else in the room seemed intimidating in the conventional "thug" way, these men were intimidating in different way.

"Handsome, aren't they?" Madam Ten cooed almost as if these men were celebrities' whose presence should be appreciated, instead of ruthless mafia members who intimidated their ways into the audience, but I couldn't disagree.

Each of the men varied greatly in image, yet to say that any of them were less that godly would be a obvious lie.

Two men were standing up at their seats trying to control their obviously drunk colleague who kept making passes at the waitresses as they walked by. The drunk one was short but still very handsome with his golden bleached blonde hair and charming laugh. It seemed as though he would have no trouble picking up women if it weren’t for his brazenly drunk behavior.

As a waitress went to check on their table, the blonde man had slapped the poor girl's ass as he spoke to her in English.

"What do you say me and you get out of this overpriced bar and get ourselves a real drink?" He said as he put his hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. The poor girl let out a small shriek.

I recognized her as one of the new girls on staff. Really innocent and sweet, but she normally did well when dealing with drunk costumers when they got out of line, but this time our customers were irregular compared to what she was used to.

The girl froze.

"Come on baby. Don't you wanna have a little fun? What's wrong?" The blonde asshole continued.

"Mark, Stop making a fool of yourself and it down." A tall brunette grabbed him and plopped the blonde back into his seat as if he weighed nothing. "She probably doesn't even speak English." He continued as he whispers something into the waitress's ear and hands her what appeared to be four 50,000won bills. As she quickly moved away, I put two and two together and figure that he was probably asking her to forget about his friend's indiscretions.

"I wasn't even...hiccup...speaking English Johnny." The blonde drunkenly continued mumbling in English as he tried to get up to follow the girl, only to be set back down again by the third standing party.

This third party stayed silent but nodded at the tall brunette previously referred to as Johnny.

Huh. It seemed like maybe this guy is either the strong silent type or he doesn't speak English. Whereas the other two seemed to be American like me. I noticed how the two spoke English in an accent very similar to my own along with the mentioning of their English names.

"Maybe when you were working with the Dreamies in the Canadian unit, getting drunk and harassing waitresses was acceptable, but now that you're working for the big boss, you have to keep up appearances. Okay Newbie?" Johnny lectured.

I started mentally cursing myself for assuming that the two English speakers were from America, not even considering the option that they could be from Canada, only to have my thoughts interrupted by the Madam.

"They might have used their power to influence the program of tonight's show, but I cannot tolerate any ruckus they make." Madam Ten gestured toward Mark.

Madam Ten started walking towards the doors leading out to the audience, but before leaving, she glanced at me and raised one ring covered index finger towards me, as if queuing me to stay put while she dealt with the unruly audience member. Then without waiting for me to confirm that I understand her silent request, she started to approach the three men, hips swaying ever so seductively.

Even though Madam Ten may have let the Mafia gang intimidate her into going with whatever changes to the show that were demanded by the irregular guests, I was relieved to hear that she still wouldn't tolerate disruptions within the audience.

I lifted the curtain up again and watched as Madam Ten made her way to the bar where the noisy blonde and his silent colleague had wondered off to.

"Hello boys," The Madam greeted the two suited men in a strict yet somehow still flirtatious manner.

Both men raised their eyes to meet the Madam's.

Stressing a smile, she continued. "It seems as though you are making my staff feel uncomfortable."

Madam Ten placed a hand on the lapel of the silent man's jacket hoping to incite a response.

"When young boys don't know how to play nicely, that's when they get placed in time out."

Mark looked up at the hand places on his hyung's chest and scoffed, further proving that the comparison of him to a toddle might not be that far of a stretch.

The third man looked at the madam with kind eyes and smiled. For a split second I was relieved that the situation didn't seem hostile. That was, until the third opened his mouth.

"Well what happens to old bats when they don't know when to fucking shut their traps?"

I couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

The third man had black hair with vibrant blue highlights. Despite the obvious fact that he was a member of the most ruthless gang/mafia in Seoul, he had somehow been born with an extremely innocent looking face. One could even allude his facial features to that of a baby rabbit. Yet he spit out his response like venom proving that one shouldn’t judge a bunny by it's adorable features, but by how hard it bites.

Madam Ten's jaw dropped, her confident facade having been completely shattered. Anger visibly erupted from her foundation covered pores. I watched her as her hand balled up into a fist, but before she could raise it even an inch, Johnny inserted himself in between the madam and his formerly silent colleague.

"Doyoung! How could you say that to such a beautiful young lady?" Although he was speaking to Doyoung, he didn't break eye contact with the Madam for even a second.

"Don't you realize that we are guests in this lovely establishment and should be thankful that we are blessed to have such a beautiful hostess?"

Johnny grabbed the Madam's hand melting away her fist as he planted a kiss on her ring covered fingers.

"Normally, I like to kiss a woman's hand without being obstructed by the presence of rings." Johnny looked up at the Madam while Doyoung rolled his eyes at his colleague's over the top mannerisms.

"Do any of these rings signify that I should address you as Mrs. instead of Miss?" Johnny slightly inquired as he winked at the Madam.

Ugh Barf. There is no way that the Madam is buying this.

An annoyingly long string of giggles escaped from Madam Ten's mouth.

"You can refer to me as Madam Ten, and no, there is no Mr. Ten." She responded as she wrapped Johnny's arm around hers.

"Instead of playing with such immature young boys, you should accompany me for some drinks in my private room before the show," Madam ten stated shooting a glare toward Mark and Doyoung.

Before Johnny could even respond, the Madam started leading him to her private quarters backstage. Realizing that he may have laid on the charm a little too strong, Johnny glanced towards his colleagues giving them a desperate "Help me out of this" look, only for it to be returned with a smirk from Doyoung and an empty concerned look from Mark.

Once Madam Ten and her new boytoy left my vision, my eyes followed the two men as they returned to their original table.

Still sitting at the table were two other men.

Both men were wearing navy blue pin striped suits, and both were sitting silently, but that was about the only thing they had in common visually. One was leaning so far back in his chair it seemed as if sliding down one more inch would end in him slipping onto the floor, yet he seemed perfectly relaxed in his posture as he rested his left foot on top of his left knee. The other man was sitting up so straight that physical therapists could use a picture of him as a guide for perfect posture.

His hair was styled in a side swept undercut. A style that suited the man's angular face. He was handsome, but he didn't have any strange features that stood out. No piercings, no crazy colored hair, no flashy jewelry except for a Gucci watch on his left wrist. Even though the watch was flashy in of itself, it still would have probably been considered to have been one of the plainer Gucci watch designs.

He was dressed like an accountant. The most attractive accountant in the world, but still it was hard to describe how little he stood out. Which is almost sad because when examined, some would probably place him above the rest of his colleagues in terms of visuals.

Upon closer inspection, I was able to make out that the slouching mean's hair was a dark shade of purple that looked almost black under the dark lighting of the room. Two small loop piercings adorned the ear that I could see, and bold purple eye makeup was smudged around both his eyes. Well, at least I thought it was makeup. With how dark the room is before showtime, it's possible that he had two black eyes, but it doesn't seem likely that a man can look so mesmerizingly gorgeous with two black eyes.

Compared to his striped suit seat neighbor, he looked like a rebellious teen. In fact, he looked the most like a gang member out of all of them.

God, I wonder how I didn’t notice him before.

The way they dressed was so professional looking that it would be understandable to forget that these were horrid men that committed violent crimes on the regular.

I looked up at a clock on the wall and realized that it was almost showtime. I started heading back to my dressing room for a drink before the show, but as soon as I passed by the Madam's personal quarters I heard muffled voices. After realizing that nothing too adult was taking place, I couldn't help but press my ear against the door hoping to eavesdrop on the unlikely duo.

"Ummm I..I.. Umm don't you think that we should get back before the show starts?"

The confident flirt that I watched shamelessly flirt with the Madam earlier had dissipated and been replaced by a scared baby deer being hunted by a hungry lion.

"Come one lover boy, this won't take long at all."

Eck! I could almost hear her wink through the door.

My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden voice.

"Isn't it considered rude to eavesdrop?"

I suddenly jumped back and let out a small shriek. I turned towards the voice only to see the purple haired an from earlier leaning on the wall right next to me with his arms crossed,

"Oof," He said as he brought a finger to his ear as if responding to my scream.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He took a step closer towards me before resting an arm on the wall above my head.

"I heard that one of my colleagues needed to be collected from backstage, but that doesn't explain why you are here....Unless....Perhaps you were hoping to hear something besides conversation."

He looked down at me and smirked causing my face to flush. Even in heavy stage makeup I could tell that he noticed the new blush on my cheeks. I just stared at him, terrified, or maybe mesmerized, probably both.

"Okay so I guess you aren't actually as perverted as I originally suspected. It's okay though. I like good girls, but judging from your getup, you must have a bit wild side."

I looked down at the floor and realize that I was wearing my burlesque costume. Even though I have worn much more revealing clothing in front of hundreds of audience members, there was something about this guy that made me feel like I was naked in the most uncomfortable way. His eyes burned holes into my body.

"Yuta, did you find the boss?" The man with the undercut hairstyle from before walked around the corner and stopped when he saw us.

Yuta rolled his eyes before taking his arm off of the wall and turned to face the man.

"Always one to pop up during the most inconvenient times. Right, Taeil?"

Taeil looked at me with visible concern showing on his face.

"Leave the poor girl alone. I swear to god, sometimes you're worse than Mark."

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream arose from behind the door and Taeil hurriedly opened it while Yuta merely let out a bored yawn.

My body stressed with worry for the Madam.

This Johnny bastard could have just left the room if he didn't want to do anything with the Madam. He didn’t have to hurt her.

I looked inside the room expecting a bloodied Madam only to be struck with the sudden realization....Ten wasn't the one who screamed.

Johnny was lying on the bed, face covered with heavy lipstick marks, and the Madam on top of him.

You could tell that Johnny was not having as much fun as the Madam was, but she was as oblivious as always.

Having noticed his colleagues had come to his rescue, Johnny sat up. The Madam lifted herself up off of the bed and in turn, off Johnny.

"Johnny... Umm" Taeil stuttered.

Yuta entered the room and tossed a handkerchief to the lipstick covered man.

"Clean yourself off. The boss will be here any minute." Yuta stated calmly. The smirk on his face even more prominent than before.

There are more of them?

"What a shame it is to have such a..." Ten looked at us, "unfortunate interruption," she continued.

"Don't worry Madam. We'll bring him back to you after the show," Yuta winked and Johnny, who was wiping his face freezes in fear, making me feel almost sorry for him.

Sadly, due to the power dynamics in gender roles, Madam Ten's lack of consent was being played off as a joke by his friend, instead of an actual close call for a possibly traumatic event. A kind of event I almost went through myself.

"I should probably go to greet the young man." The madam fixed her wig.

"I should at least see the man responsible for tonight's sudden change in theme."

#Nct jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #wayv #nct smut #nct mafia #nct mafia au #wayv au #wayv mafia #wayv mafia au #jaehyun #nct 127 mafia #nct dream #kpop mafia au

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monstersslut · 3 years

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Parent Problems #4

As usual, just when I start to think things could be looking up for my relationship with my mom, especially since she's started therapy, not only did she call me annoying yesterday just because I wanted to tell her about my day, when she wanted her topic to come first about her jewelry that just came in, but then almost made me get out of the car today and WALK HOME, JUST for calling her out for going into her la la land today to purposefully ignore me.

That's because when her toxic friend (who I don't like and wish she'd fucking cut off already,) made it seem like she was wanting my mom to buy her food from the cafe we were going to, when we got to the joint party they both were hosting for their businesses. So I was annoyed that she was choosing this bitch over her own daughter to feed.

When she already has a narcissistic mindset on buying me fucking food in general nowadays already, so yeah, of course I'mma get a bit mad that she'll willingly submit to this imposing bitch's wishes, cuz she's too much of a people pleaser to tell her no.

But yet can pull the car over just to try and make her own fucking daughter walk all the way back home, in a GHETTO area, allllll over her daughter calling her out for purposely ignoring her.

My mom REALLLYYY has noo fucking idea of how much SHIT I fucking take from her entitled, narcissistic ass, and I honestly don't know how much longer I can soak up before I burst from being done and overwhelmed.

Oh, and did I mention that she decided to halt our arguing "before she said something she'll regret LATER?" Not in the moment like a normally sane person, but fucking. Later.

That alone just tells you right then and there how ignorant she truly is of her toxicity. And how narcissistic she really is as well.

Cuzzz I'm pretty sure normal people realize when they went too far with something they said, like idk, right after it leaves their mouths?

Oh, and in case y'all didn't know, she screamed at me the other week that she was the Queen Bee, not me, that she lives here too, and to not ever tell her to go to her room again.

Over me just suggesting it when she started to fuss about how she couldn't hear her stupid training videos over my video game, just because a loud scene came on, and verbally expressed her wish for a solution, so all I did was suggest going to her room to watch her videos, since I've been doing my thing for a while, and the bitch blew up at me, like I just randomly name-called her or something.

I swear sometimes this bitch doesn't actually love me, or if she does, she has a fucked way of showing it.

#vents #personal #rants #venting #parental problems #parenting problems #toxic parents #toxic moms #narcissism #narcissistic parents #toxic mother #send helpppp #I really cant take much more of this #pls pray for me

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inmyarmswrappedin · 3 years

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Episode 13! Yes, I’m aware I have missed several days’ worth of recaps, I will try to go back and do them all before this season is over. For now, enjoy Aisha getting into even more trouble.

So, aside from not having access to my PC for a couple days, one reason I haven’t yet written recaps for the other episodes is because I was so incredibly disappointed with Aisha. Specifically what she told Chanel at the party she and Liya hosted. In my mind, I was the Tyra Banks “we were all rooting for you” meme lol. Up until that point, I had more or less seen where Aisha was coming from, but it felt so unfair for Aisha to attack Chanel like that, when Chanel has done Aisha so many favors.

It’s not that I thought it was out of character for Aisha to say that, but I also hadn’t thought Aisha saw Chanel like that. So I needed to stew in my feelings and, before I knew it, I missed a couple more days lol.

I think a part of this season has to do with Aisha stretching her wings a bit. In episode 1, Emrah tells Aisha she has to live life. And every time Aisha tries to do that, someone ends up seeing her and snitching to her brother. I feel like Aisha really does admire Chanel, despite what she said. She liked Chanel’s earrings, and when Chanel gave them to her, Aisha wore them to a date with Emrah. Aisha was clearly disappointed when Emrah didn’t care for the decor at Chanel’s flat. And right before she was an ass to Chanel, Aisha was telling Emilio about how much she liked them. I think Aisha is struggling with wanting more autonomy, being denied that autonomy, and feeling like she couldn’t be like Chanel even if she tried (because of Emilio’s rejection).

But anyway.

Aisha goes to work, and runs into Chanel. Chanel appears to be chill with Aisha, which tbh, scares me more than if she were mad. Is she faking being chill and plans to get even with Aisha later? I really hope not. Anyway, Chanel says Aisha didn’t need to switch shifts to avoid her. Aisha then stutters through an apology, says she didn’t mean to call Chanel a [gendered slur], she was very drunk and annoyed with Yusuf.

Chanel’s like, cool, but adds that she really dislikes the way people just throw that word around. I want to cry lol, Chanel is the best character on this show. Like I honestly can’t tell if she’s really just let bygones be bygones, but at any rate, she’s 100% right. In luv with her.

Someone calls the smoothie shop. It’s Emrah, increasingly running out of apps to contact Aisha from and becoming more desperate to do so. He tells Aisha he didn’t lie about working at a Kiwi (a Scandinavian supermarket chain) and Aisha can see for herself right now. Son... Don’t call people at work, that’s a stalker thing.

Aisha actually does go to the Kiwi in question, and Emrah is indeed there stocking shelves with a co-worker who quickly assesses the situation and realizes he’s not wanted there. Aisha, not unreasonably, tells Emrah to quit calling her at work. Emrah says he hasn’t explained everything yet. I’m like, we’re running on day 3 of Emrah saying Aisha has to let him explain. Like at this point we’re not going to hear the whole story until the last couple episodes, I bet.

Aisha essentially tells him there’s nothing to explain, because Emrah is a ghetto rat from Stovner and that’s all he’s ever going to be. He doesn’t have a diploma, and he’s only ever going to end up in jail again and again and again. And like, outside of everything else, that’s such a horrible thing to say, and to decide about someone, that no matter what they do they’ll never amount to anything. And when it comes to Emrah specifically, it’s heartbreaking because we know that Emrah has a ton of potential, he’s both smart and clever. I haven’t watched 18, so Idk how he got involved with Bigmac, but someone shouldn’t have his entire life derailed because of a fuckup when they were a teen.

Emrah asks Aisha if she’s done telling him off, because after that, he’s done with her. And Aisha’s like, “good!” But even as she’s leaving, you can see she’s regretting what she’s said. This is hard for Aisha too of course, because she’s clearly in love with Emrah, but she feels she can’t commit to him because of what her family and friends will do or say, as well as because of her own expectations for herself.

Back at home, Aisha is checking insta and she notices Jamilah posted something sad and captioned it 💔. I’m going to guess she broke up with her bf, most likely because as a result of Aisha’s outburst. Gotta love when shit piles up on the main as a consequence of their own actions lol.

Yusuf chooses that moment to burst in, and he’s all, “now people are saying they saw you kissing a dude in Stovner!” Like, for me it’s clear that Yusuf doesn’t necessarily want to control his sister, but dudes in his circle think he should and are giving him grief about it. The answer is that he should tell people to mind their own business, but I realize this is way more easily said than done.

Aisha asks why she can’t be kissing a boy if she wants to, and Yusuf says that she shouldn’t if she’s not serious about the relationship. So, of course, Aisha says the relationship is serious. The relationship that she just broke off. GIRL... Yusuf says if it’s serious, then he wants to meet the guy. No, you don’t want to meet the guy, Yusuf, lol. Aisha says she’s still grounded. (It’s really funny recapping this after having skipped a few episodes, so I haven’t covered why Aisha is grounded yet lol.) Yusuf says he’ll work it out with their mom, so Aisha is allowed to go out and Yusuf can meet this boy. He leaves, and Aisha’s like, “girl...” at herself.

#17 nrk

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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There are three kinds of dissidents: (a) anons, (b) pundits who still care what people think, and (c) outsiders who DGAF. All these groups are great; real greatness can be achieved in any of them; and good friends I have in each. But each has its problems.

…

The problem with (b) is that you are always policing yourself. Not only do your readers never really know what you really believe—you never really know yourself. In practice, it is much easier to police your own thoughts than your own words. When choosing between two ideas, the temptation to prefer the safer one is almost irresistible. This is a source of cognitive distortion which the anons and outsiders do not experience. (Though anons do suffer something of the opposite, a reflex to provoke.)

As a pundit, you sense this stress in every bone of your body; you can never show it to your readers. This creates a deep dishonesty in the parasocial relationship between writer and reader—like a marriage that can never escape some foolish first-date fib. The falsity, like the blue in blue cheese, flows through and flavors every particle of your content. Neither you nor your readers can ever be sure whether you are speaking the truth, lying to them, or lying to yourself—but you are constantly doing all three. You may still be very entertaining—enlightening, even. All your work is ephemeral, and once you die only your relatives will remember you. And it’s not even your fault.

…

From my perspective, both the anonymous and official dissidents exhibit a kind of unserious frivolity, but a very different kind. The frivolity of the anon is imaginative, surreal and playful at best, merely puerile at worst. The frivolity of the pundit has no upside; in every paragraph he is breaking Koestler’s rule, and he knows it; the best he can do is to shut up selectively about the things he cannot write about.

And his mens rea, too, is awful. He is selling hope. He is selling answers. Pity the man whose life has brought him to the position of selling answers in which he does not believe, or which he is forced to believe, or which he must force himself to believe. However sophisticated and erudite he may be, he is just a high-end grifter. His little magazine is a Macedonian troll-farm with a PhD. He is lucky if his eloquent essays about the common good don’t appear above a popup bar peddling penis pills—and in fact, I know more than one brilliant scholar in precisely this bathetic position. The frame defines the picture; the context sets the price of the text. Sad!

Worst still must be the reality that bad punditry is worse than useless—since useless strategies for escaping from a real problem are traps. When you lead your readers toward an attractive but ineffective solution, you lead them away from the opposite.

You got into this business to change the world for the better. You cannot avoid the realization that you are changing it for the worse—because your objective function is that of Chaim Rumkowski, the Lodz Ghetto’s “King of the Jews.”

You exist to convince your own followers that they neither can nor should do anything effective. The easiest way to do this is to convince them that ineffective strategies are effective. And this, as we’ll see, is exactly what you cannot avoid doing, dear pundit.

Moreover, from our present position of profound unreality, where the official narrative shared and studied by all normal intelligent people and all prestigious institutions can only be described as a state of venomous delirium, the opportunities to play Judas goat are almost unlimited. Cows, remember: there does not have to be only one Judas goat.

…

A particular favorite of the pundit is the error that AI philosophers call the “first-step fallacy.” It turns out that the first monkey to climb to the top of a tree was taking the first step toward landing on the moon:

First-step thinking has the idea of a successful last step built in. Limited early success, however, is not a valid basis for predicting the ultimate success of one’s project. Climbing a hill should not give one any assurance that if he keeps going he will reach the sky.

When a vendor sells you the moon and ships you a rope-ladder, you’ve been defrauded. Time for that one-star review.

…

Today we’ll chart the edges of the legitimate possible by looking at three recent pundit essays which have done a fine job of exploring those edges, and maybe even expanding them: Richard Hanania’s “Why is Everything Liberal?”, Scott Alexander’s “The New Sultan”, and Tanner Greer’s “The Problem of the New Right.”

…

After reading Hanania’s essay, a fourth pundit (who is out as a radical conservative) asked me: why does the right always lose? “Narcissistic delusions,” I replied.

Which was far from what he expected to hear, or what most readers will take from the essay. All three of these essays are good and true; but their inability to go far enough leaves them pointing their audience in precisely the wrong direction.

Most readers will emerge feeling that conservatives need more and better narcissistic delusions. Indeed, both pundit and politician are right there with just such a product. This meretricious frivolity, posing as seriousness, is too egregious to leave unmocked; yet the right reason to mock it is to challenge it to assume its final, truly-serious form.

Richard Hanania and the loser right

Hanania’s true point—backed up with a ream of unnecessary, PhD-worthy evidence—is that the libs always win because they just care more:

…

Since the rebirth of conservatism after the revolutionary monoculture of World War II, all conservative punditry has consisted of attempts to create more excitement around policies and values which effectively resist the power of the prestigious institutions—giving “normal people” as much to care about as their fanatical, aristocratic enemies.

Sensibly, this tends to involve raising “issues” which actually seem to affect their lives, but which also run counter to aristocratic power. Over decades, the substance of these issues changes and even reverses; the opposite stance becomes the useful stance; and “conservative values” have no choice but to change to reflect this. (If this seems like a liberal way to rag on conservatives—the cons learned it from the libs.)

…

“New Right” is not Greer’s term, but as a label I can barely imagine a worse self-own. It promises something ephemeral and irrelevant. So far as I can tell, this same cursed label has been used in every generation of conservatism to mean something different. When it inevitably fails and dies, people forget about it, and the next generation, stuck in the eternal present of a Korsakoff-syndrome movement, can reinvent it.

Who reads the conservative pundits of the ‘80s? Even those who remember them have to throw them under the bus. Every generation of National Review twinks, solemnly intoning what they conceive to be the immortal philosophy of our hallowed founders, is horrified by its predecessor, and horrifies its successor—a truly bathetic spectacle. And of course, each such generation would utterly horrify the actual founders.

…

Greer then goes deep into David Hackett Fischer territory to explain the obvious, yet important, fact that this “New Right” consists of upper-class intellectuals (inherently the heirs of the Puritans, since America’s upper-class tradition is the Puritan tradition) trying to lead middle-class yokels (the heirs of the Scotch-Irish crackers, and (though Greer does not mention this) Irish, Slavs, and other post-Albionic “white ethnic” trash, today even including many Hispanics. He even gives us a clever historical bon mot:

Pity the Whig who wishes to lead the Jackson masses!

Uh, yeah, dude, that would be called “Abraham Lincoln.”

But the point stands. Not just the “New Right” with its new statist ideology, but the whole postwar American Right, is a weird army with a general staff of philosophers and a fighting infantry of ignorant yokels. How can this stay together? How can the philosophers bring forth a mythology that creates passionate intensity in the yokels?

…

There is wisdom in this madness, of course—the problem is caused by aristocrats whose minds are wholly given over to narcissistic delusions. Doesn’t it take fire to fight fire? Doesn’t it take passionate intensity? Isn’t passionate intensity generated only by myths, dreams, poems and religions, not autistic formulas for tax policy? So the answer is clear: we need more and better narcissistic delusions. Ie, shams.

After all, any “founding mythology” is a narcissistic delusion. The flintlock farmers and mechanic mobs of the 1770s, and the Plymouth Puritans of the 1620s, have one thing in common: none of these people even remotely resembles the megachurch grill-and-minivan conservative of the 2020s. None of them even remotely resembles you.

They did live in the same places, and speak sort of the same language. Otherwise you probably have more in common with the average Indonesian housewife—at least she watches the same superhero movies.

To Narcissus, everything is a mirror; in everything and everyone, he sees himself. No field is riper for narcissism than history, since the dead past cannot even laugh at the present’s appropriations of a human reality it could not even start to comprehend.

And fighting fire with fire is one thing, but fighting the shark in the water is another. For the aristocrat, transcending reality is a core competence. The essence of leftism—always and everywhere an aristocratic trope, however vast its ignorant serf-armies—is James Spader in Pretty in Pink: “If I cared about money, would I treat my father’s house this way?” Mere peasants can never develop this kind of wild energy: that’s the point.

Yet Hanania remains right about the amount of energy that a rational, Kantian agenda for productive collective action motivated by collective self-interest, or even collective self-defense, can generate. The grill-American suburbicon is like Maistre’s Frenchman under the late Jacobins: he has defined deviancy down to rock-bottom. “He feels that he is well-governed, so long as he himself is not being killed.”

O, what to do? When you are solving an engineering problem and see the answer at last, it hits you like a thunderbolt. The conservatives, the normal people, the grill-Americans, must accept their own low energy. They must cease their futile reaching for passionate intensity, whether achieved through Kantian collective realism or Jaffaite founding mythology. They must fight the shark on land.

Conservatives don’t care—at least not enough. Yet they want to matter. Yet they live in a political system where mattering is a function of caring—not just voting. Therefore, there are two potential solutions: (a) make them care more; (b) make systems that let them matter more, without caring more.

Conservatives have low energy. They want high impact—at this point, they need high impact. After all, once you yourself are being killed, it’s kind of too late. Any engineer would tell you that there are two paths to high impact: more energy, or more efficiency.

Conservatives vote but don’t care. If we don’t have a viable way to make conservatives care more—meaning orders of magnitude more—effective strategies and structures must generate power by voting, not caring. They must maximize power per vote.

…

Interference means voters who are on the same team are working against each other. Impedance means voters resist delegating their complete consent to the team.

Interference is like a bunch of ants pulling the breadcrumb in different directions. To eliminate interference, point all your votes at one structurally cohesive entity which never works against itself.

Impedance is like getting married for a limited trial period, so long as your wife stays hot and keeps liking the stuff you like. As Burke pointed out in his famous speech to the electors of Bristol, the fundamental nature of electoral consent is unconditional:

To deliver an opinion, is the right of all men; that of Constituents is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a Representative ought always to rejoice to hear; and which he ought always most seriously to consider.

But authoritative Instructions; Mandates issued, which the Member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote, and to argue for, though contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgement and conscience; these are things utterly unknown to the laws of this land, and which arise from a fundamental Mistake of the whole order and tenor of our Constitution.

The cause of electoral impedance in the modern world is the conventional concept of “agendas” or “platforms” or “issues.” When you vote not for a cohesive entity, but for a list of instructions you are giving to that entity, you are not voting your full power. You are voting for Burke’s opponent, who felt “his Will ought to be subservient to yours.” In effect, you are voting for yourself. Narcissism once again rears its ugly head.

When you vote an agenda, you are granting limited consent to your representative. You say: I vote for you, for a limited time, so long as you stay fit and cook tasty dinners. I am actually not voting for you! I am voting for “reforms for conservatives” (Hanania). I am voting for “a broad set of shared attitudes and policy prescriptions” (Greer). Dear, I am not marrying you. I am marrying hot sex, regular cleaning and delicious meals—till ten extra pounds, or maybe at most fifteen, do us part.

You implicitly withhold your consent for anything not on your jejune list of bullet points. Then, you wonder why your representatives have no power and are constantly mocked, disobeyed, tricked and destroyed by people who are legally their employees. This is not political sex. This is political masturbation. You voted for yourself. And instead of a baby, all you got was a wad of tissues. Nice way to “drain the swamp.”

Your vote does not work because you are not voting, delegating, or granting consent. You are like an archer with one arrow who, afraid of losing it, refuses to let go of it. Without releasing his dart, all he can do is run up to the enemy and try to stab.

So if conservatives want to maximize the impact of their votes, all they have to do is the opposite of what they’re doing. Instead of voting for the okonomi a-la-carte stupid little political menus of hundreds of unconnected candidates and their staffs, they can all vote for the omakase prix-fixe chef’s-choice of a single cohesive governing entity.

Such a power, elected, has the voters’ mandate not just to “govern,” but to rule. When no other private or public force enjoys any such consent, no other force can resist. We are certainly well beyond “rule of law” at this point! On the inaugural podium, the new President announces a state of emergency. He declares himself the Living Constitution. In six months no one will even remember “the swamp.”

Wow! What a simple, clear idea! The engineer, when he comes across so compelling and obvious a design, knows there’s a catch: he won’t get the patent. Someone else must have invented it before. People may be stupid—but they’re not that stupid.

Indeed we have just reasoned our way to reinventing the oldest, most common, and most successful form of government: monarchy. And we are setting it against the second most common form, the institutional rule of power-obsessed elites: oligarchy. And to install our monarchy, we are using the collective action of a large number of people who each perform one small act: democracy.

The alliance of monarchy and democracy (king and people) against oligarchy (church and/or nobles) is the oldest political strategy in the book. The suburban conservative, who just wants to grill, either has no idea this ancient and trivial solution exists, or regards it as the worst thing in the world—even worse, possibly, than his sixth-grader’s mandatory sex change.

And why? Ask your friendly local Judas goat, the pundit. Even the “new right” pundit—who only differs in his policies and issues. Which are, true, slightly less useless. As the top of the tree is slightly closer to the moon.

The 20th century even came up with a handy pejorative for a newborn monarchy. We call it fascism. No word on whether Cromwell, Caesar, or Charlemagne, let alone Louis XIV, Frederick II and Elizabeth I, were fascists.

But, to borrow Scott Alexander’s charming term, also not his own invention, they were certainly strongmen. TLDR: if you want to be strong, elect one strongman. If you prefer to be weak, elect a whole bunch of weakmen. Do you prefer to be weak? “If the rule you followed brought you to this place—of what use was the rule?”

The pundit reassures you that you don’t need a strongman to be strong—you’ll do fine with weakmen—so long as those weakmen have the right “shared attitudes and policy prescriptions.” By the way, here are some attitudes I’m happy to share with you. Click now to accept cookies. Did I mention that I have policy prescriptions, too? Skip ad in 5 seconds. Congratulations, you’ve been automatically subscribed! Check the box to opt out of most emails—void where prohibited by law—terms and conditions may apply…

…

An odd sort of pundit, who remains only nominally anonymous but has always very much GAF, Scott Alexander does not have Hanania’s cagey diplomatic noncommittal. As a “rationalist,” he is deeply committed to his own class status, and to oligarchy itself—which, like most, he misidentifies as “democracy.”

While the whole raison d’etre of the rationalist is the irrationality of our oligarchy, as displayed in genius moves like refusing to cancel regularly-scheduled airline flights to stop a Holocaust-tier pandemic, the rationalist’s dream is a rational oligarchy—using Bayes’ rule, which given infinite computing power will become infinitely intelligent—in Carlyle’s immortal phrase, “a government carried out by steam.”

Obviously, this is not just logical—it immunizes the rationalists from the scurrilous charge of “fascism,” or worse. And they were right about stopping the flights. So was my 9-year-old. Sadly, in a world of universal delusional delirium, rationality can get quite pleased with itself by clearing quite a low bar.

My view is that no government can be or ever has been carried out by steam—only by human beings—a species the same today as in the Old Kingdom of Egypt, if possibly a little dumber on average—and this will remain the case until some computational or genetic singularity occurs. For neither of which events will I hold my breath. This is why I find it easy to picture 21st-century America under the phronetic monarchy of an experienced and capable President-CEO, and almost hilariously impossible to picture it under a Bayesian bureaucracy of polyamorous smart-contracts.

Alexander disagrees. Here is his analysis—the same text that Hanania quotes. Let’s go through it thought by thought, and see if we can’t turn it into some delicious carnitas.

…

Let’s get back to those “elites.” Alexander conflates three quite orthogonal concepts in his use of the word “elite”: biology, institutions, and culture.

Elite biology is high IQ, which is genetic. Elite institutions are any centers of organized collective power—Harvard, the Komsomol, the Mafia, etc. Elite culture is whatever ideas flourish within elite institutions.

Destroying biology is genocide—specifically, aristocide. Destroying institutions is… paperwork. Who hasn’t worked for a company that went out of business? Same deal. And if the culture is the consequence of the institutions, different institutions (with the same human biology) will inevitably nurture different ideas.

The SS was anything but a low-IQ institution, yet it propagated a very different culture than Harvard. 21st-century Germany is anything but a low-IQ country, but the ideas of Kurt Eggers do not flourish in it. It seems that high-IQ institutions can be destroyed—and the new “elite culture” will be the culture of the institutions that replace them.

So the only target is the institutions. There is nothing “nasty” about closing an office. In the worst possible scenario, the police need to clear the building, lock the doors, and impound the servers. Such tasks are well within their core competence, and can be performed with calm professionalism. They will probably not even need their zip-ties.

…

For democracy to be effective in such a situation, it must know its own limitations. It can seize the reins—but only to hand them to some effective power. This power must have one of three forms: an existing oligarchy, a new monarchy, or a foreign power.

Also, there are three classes in an advanced society, not just two: nobles, commoners, and clients. Since clients support their patrons by definition, once nobles plus clients outnumber commoners, the commoners have permanently lost the numbers game. This is why importing client voters is a recipe for either civil war or eternal tyranny—if not both.

…

Yes. This is what happened in denazification, except with monarchy and oligarchy reversed. For example, all German media firms today are descendants of institutions created, or at least certified, by AMGOT. Nothing “organic” about it.

The essential problem with Alexander’s picture of this process is that, since like most smart people today he inhabits Cicero’s great quote about history and children, he simply cannot imagine replacing one kind of elite institution with another. Nor can he imagine high-IQ elites—human beings as smart as him—which are as loyal to a new sane monarchy as today’s elites are loyal, slavishly loyal, to our old insane oligarchy. Does he think that Elizabeth’s London had no elites? Caesar’s Rome?

If Alexander was analyzing the Soviet Union in the same way, he would conclude that elites are inherently devoted to building socialism for the workers and peasants. Since the present world he lives in is all of history for him, he cannot see the general theory which predicts this special case: elites like to get ahead. To genuinely change the world, change what it takes for elites to get ahead.

If the elites are poets and their only way to get ahead is to write interminable reams of “race opera,” as my late wife liked to put it, the floodgates of race opera will open. If the elites are poets and their only way to get ahead is to write interminable reams of Stalin hagiography, Stalin will be praised to the skies in beautiful and clever rhymes.

…

There are two big strawmen here. Let’s turn them into steelmen.

First, “the populace uses the government” is non-Burkean. The populace (not all of it, just the middle class) installs the government. Then it goes back to grilling. So long as the commoners have to be in charge of the regime, and the commoners are weak, the regime will be weak. They need to “fire and forget.” Otherwise, they just lose.

Second, Alexander has clearly never heard of the atelier movement. No, this is not the same thing as your grandma in front of the TV copying Bob Ross.

What happens is this: every (oligarchic) art school and art critic no longer exists. Not that they are killed, of course. Just that their employers are liquidated (not with a bullet in the neck, just with a letter from the bank). They exist physically, not professionally. They were already bureaucrats—they had careers, not passions. Who gets fired, but keeps doing his job just for fun? Certainly not a bureaucrat.

And every (oligarchic) artist no longer exists—not that they are killed, of course. Just that the rich socialites who used to buy their stuff got letters from the bank, too. Libs sometimes talk about a wealth tax—a one-time wealth cap, perhaps at a modest level like $20 mil, will concentrate the rich man’s mind wonderfully on actual necessities.

Elites like to get ahead. The people who got ahead in the oligarchic art scene can no longer get ahead by doing shitty, bureaucratic, 20th-century conceptual art. Because there were so many of them, and because the demand for this product has dropped by at least one order of magnitude if not two, elite ambition is replaced by elite revulsion.

The enormous supply-and-demand imbalance for both art and artists in 20th-century styles leaves these styles about as fashionable as disco in 1996. “Paintings” that used to sell for eight figures will be stacked next to the dumpster. “Artists” once celebrated in the Times will be teaching kindergarten, tying trout flies, or cooking delicious dinners.

Inevitably, some of these people have real artistic talent. (The first modern artists had real talent—Picasso was an excellent draftsman.) They can go to an atelier and learn to draw. They will—because now, acquiring real artistic skill is a way to get ahead in art. And again, elites like to get ahead.

…

There is nothing “normal” or “natural” or “organic” about oligarchy. Does Alexander think “uncured” bacon is “organic” because, instead of evil chemical nitrates, it uses healthy, natural celery powder? He sure is easy to fool. But who isn’t?

Culture and academia is already yoked to the will of government in a “heavy-handed manner”—yoked not by the positive pressure of power, but the negative attraction of power. When the formal government defers to institutions that are formally outside the government, it leaks power into them and makes them de facto state agencies.

Power leakage, like a pig lagoon spilling into an alpine lake, poisons the marketplace of ideas with delicious nutrients. Ideas that make the institutions more powerful grow wildly. Eventually these ideas evolve carnivory and learn to positively repress their competitors, which is how our free press and our independent universities have turned our regime into Czechoslovakia in 1971, and our conversation into a Hutu Power after-school special. PS: Black lives matter.

The paradox of “authoritarianism” is that a regime strong enough to implement Frederick the Great’s idea of “free speech”—“they say what they want, I do what I want”—can actually create a free and unbiased marketplace of ideas, which neither represses seditious ideas nor rewards carnivorous ideas. But it takes a lot of power to reach this level of strength—and it requires liquidating all competing powers.

I have never been able to explain this simple idea to anyone, even rationalists with 150+ IQs who can grok quantum computing before breakfast, who didn’t want to understand it. Ultimately it reduces to the painful realization that sovereignty is conserved—that the power of man over man is a human universal. (Also, we all die.)

No surprise that nerds who think of power as Chad shoving them into a locker can’t handle the truth. PS: I went to a public high school as a 12-year-old sophomore, was bullied every day for three years, and graduated college as a virgin. Whoever you are, dear reader, you are not beyond hope. You can handle the truth.

…

And yet: Alexander’s post is about Erdoğan—and his description of Erdoğan is spot on. It also is a perfect description of Orban in Hungary; it applies to Putin in Russia and Xi in China; and it is even pretty accurate for Hitler, Mussolini and friends.

What all these “strongmen” have in common is that they are provincial. Turkey is not exactly the center of the world. Even 20th-century Germany was nowhere near the center of the world, though it could at least imagine becoming that center. If Turkey just disappeared tomorrow, no one would have any reason to care except the Turks. Who needs Turkey for anything? What would collapse—the dried-apricot market?

Erdoğan’s problem is that he cannot vaporize the oligarchy, because the institutions that matter are not in Turkey. The provincial strongman has no choice but to follow the “populist” playbook that Alexander describes so well.

Orban can kick Soros’s university out of Hungary; he cannot do anything at all to Soros, let alone to the global institutions of which Soros is only a small part. He is indeed “arrayed against” these institutions, to which his Hungarian elites (who speak nearly-perfect English) will always be loyal. The contest is unequal and has only one possible winner, though it can last indefinitely long. Even Xi, whose country can quite easily imagine becoming the economic center of the world, is a provincial strongman—in fact, he sent his daughter to Harvard. Sad!

In a global century, the only way for these provincial strongmen to develop genuine local sovereignty is to go full juche. This is simply not possible for Hungary or Turkey, both of which are firmly attached to the cultural, economic, and military teat of the Global American Empire. Indeed it is barely possible for North Korea, a marsupial nation still in China’s pouch. So Alexander is right: these “strongmen” cannot win. Their regimes will all go the way of Franco’s. It’s impressive that they even survive.

Erdoğan simply has no way to attach his best citizens to his own regime. They are citizens of the world. Elites always like to get ahead. If you’re a world-class talent in anything, why would you try to get ahead in Istanbul? Suppose you want to make a name as the world’s greatest Turkish writer. Succeed in New York, then come home. Turkey is a province; provinces are provincial.

Yet I am not a Turk or a Hungarian, and neither is Scott Alexander. The greater any empire, the more essential that its fall begin at the center. The Soviet empire did not fall from the outside in; it was not brought down from Budapest or Prague; it fell from Moscow out.

And the American empire will fall from Washington out—though that may not happen in the lives of those now living. And although nature abhors a vacuum and no empire can be replaced by nothing—and oligarchy, in the modern world, can only be replaced by monarchy—the “strongman” of this monarchy will not look anything like these mere provincial dictators.

…

The result of Alexander’s perceptive calculations, which are only wrong because their only input data is the present, is simply that our present incompetent tyranny is and must be permanent. Of course, every sovereign regime defines itself as permanent. Yet when we look at the past and not just the present, we see that no empire is forever.

Some grim things are happening in America today. These grim things have a silver lining: they expose the gleaming steel jaws of the traps that the aristocracy sets for its commoners. They remind the cattle that a goat is not a cow and a baa is not a moo.

Every pundit is a Cicero. And amidst all the greatness of his rhetoric, Cicero could not imagine a world that had no use for Ciceros—a world governed by competence, not rhetoric. By the time Caesar crossed the Rubicon, nothing had failed more completely than the whole Roman idea of governance by rhetoric—an idea many centuries old, an idea whose execution had beaten all competitors to capture the whole civilized world, but an idea that was past its sell-by date. Rome herself was no longer suited to it. The republican aristocracy of Rome no longer meant Regulus and Scipio and Cincinnatus; it meant Milo and Clodius and Catiline. Its factional conflict was the choice between Hutu Power and Das Schwarze Korps. Caesar was not a disaster; Caesar was a miracle.

In the death of the American republic, every detail is different. The story is the same. The contrast in capacity between SpaceX and the Pentagon, Moderna and the CDC, Apple and Minneapolis—between our monarchical corporations, and our oligarchical institutions—is a dead ringer for the contrast between the legions and the Senate.

The sooner we stop pretending that this isn’t happening to us, the better results we can get. Wouldn’t it be nice to get to Caesar, Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, without passing through Sulla and Marius, Crassus and Spartacus? Alas, from here and now it seems unlikely. But I can’t see why every serious person wouldn’t want to try.

#curtis yarvin #substack #long #moldbug #well worth the read #monarchy #oligarchy #scott alexander #richard hanania #tanner greer #those who just want to grill #strongman #pundits #i'm reminded at several points of jim donald's arguments about how holiness spirals are ended

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miss-lady-uhane · 3 years

Text

Off My Chest Pt.1

I don't see what's so hard about being in a relationship. You are born in to a group of relationships. Your parents, maybe siblings, aunts, uncles, or cousins?

Then immediately you're expected to create more relationships and this time it's with strangers. You're told at a you age to treat others how you want to be treated but who's to say that others will treat you the way you treat them. It's totally uncertain how a person will react to you since not everyone gets along even for the most simple of reasons.

When I was in elementary school I always had the weirdest time making friends and I think it's because no one else was going through what I was going through. At that time I was too young to connect those dots because I didn't even really know what I was going through. I always hung out with my cousin patsy when we weren't in school, mostly because my dad was working and she was also my only cousin who was my age. I think we got along well but we just had different views about things. We both grew up in a Jehovah Witness family, and by that I mean my grandparents were both heavily religious and had 13 kids where majority of them were also heavy in to the JW beliefs. The difference between us was that her dad didn't care about going to church and never let the rest of the family pressure him. My dad was always in the church as a young man but was also a troublemaker and actually was disfellowshiped which means no one in the JW congregation could talk to you because you've basically been banned and the only way to get that back is to do everything you're supposed to do in regards to being a good follower.

I don't exactly know how his obligations transferred to me but we always had to go to church until I was maybe 6-8? And I had to go alone. My older cousins would take me to bible study or come over and study the watch tower. At a young age I started to actually realize how hypocritical that was, why do I have to get dressed up and memorize the Bible when my dad just stays home every night? Boom. All at once I was a bad person even though I never did anything wrong.

As a kid I spent a lot of time with my dad who was really strict. My grandma got me a phone because he would refuse to answer her calls and that was both the best and worst gift. I could have some kind of social life and hang out with my friends but my dad would literally call me every 20 minutes and I'm not exaggerating. It got to the point where I would just turn my phone off even if I knew I would get in trouble.

The constant calling and over-protection along with my dad always being gone for work coupled with moving in to smaller and smaller housing situations started to change me inside. I started realizing that not everything was peachy-keen. My dads best friends who I would go over and hang out with their kids no longer wanted him around which meant I had less and less friends. I started to wonder why my dad was always so frantic and why these people he's known his whole life started to drift away from him. The final time we moved to Pa'anau village which was basically Kauai's section 8 housing changed everything. After a lot of drama and overhearing arguments I realized that we were poor. I was still to young to understand why that was but I wasn't really bothered by it because I still wore the same school uniform, I still saw my friends from school, I still went to the beach every day. The only thing that was different now was that my dad was unemployed because the union does massive layoffs all the time.

I was still in middle school at this time and things started to change a little, people wanted to come to my neck of the woods all the sudden and I could never think of an excuse to tell them why they couldn't. Because my dad is a hoarder? Because I live in the ghetto? Or what else? Because my dad refused to pick me up or drop me off because he was always asleep? I never questioned why my dad was the way he was. I always just thought he was sad and missed my mom. He would cry a lot and have nightmares where he would yell for her and I would go in and wake him up and he would just cry.

I learned a lot about growing up once we moved to pa'anau. I had to clean our apartment all the time or it would be a mess, I did my own laundry. I definitely got in a lot of trouble because of who I was hanging out with in the environment. Living there and going to school in the city really changed who I was as a person.

I never saw myself as a "hot girl" or let alone a "pretty island girl". When I was in chief was I remember being like wow I thought I was a tomboy before and now I don't even own a pair of short hollister jean shorts. Either way I made my own path, I had the typical "text" boyfriend that I never saw in my life. We'd look at each other after our friends would go tell them something we each sent them on a mission to relay. Never really cared for any of that because in reality I was still shooting my guy friends with airsoft guns on the weekends.

After a while I realized that I couldn't just hang out with my two guy friends (Curtis & Treydon) because they too were finding themselves in a whole new world. I started hanging out with girls.. I just always felt like I never fit in. Girls as a whole are hard to get close with because there is ALWAYS drama. I still managed to have a group of friends wether I was unsure of if they really liked me or not we all ate lunch and we all hung out every lunch and found each other in class.

In the 8th grade things started to go for a wild turn. I got in a lot of trouble since my after school friends were those in my neighborhood and most of the people who lived in Pa'anau Village have drug using parents or drug dealing parents. I ended up getting arrested for the first time when I was 11 years old. We were eating ice cream I. Old Koloa Town when one of our friends said hey that couple left their bag should we take it? I remember everyone being scared and not wanting to but before I knew it she grabbed it and everyone just started running so of course I ran. She started opening the bag once we got to a bush covered pond near by and I realized we fucked up. The bag had her cell phone, her engagement ring, wedding band, Movado watch, everything. When they caught us I didn't have anything in my possession but the only thing that linked me was a phone call to my cell phone from the stolen phone. That call was made by a friends boyfriend who thought it was funny.

I'm now an 11 year old on probation. Grounded for life, can't affiliate with those friends, not to mention that we all had a different version of what happened. After this I found out that not only those friends but also our mutual school friends also had it out for me. As some kind of joke while we were banned from seeing each other they made a fake MySpace page where they started flirting with all kinds of guys including my last friend left in the groups boyfriend.

At this point I pretty much gave up on everyone I knew. I didn't want to hang out with them and I knew that I could find better people to be with. 8th grade summer my cousin Levi who was for some reason two years older than me in the same grade invited me to hang out with his friends. They were all way older and looked at me crazy!

A 13 year old? Who brought her here. But I was a balmores and they knew my older cousins really well. This group wasn't easy to get in to but once again I found my way and stuck around.

This all leads me to what I wanna figure out. Why, do I consistently get shafted? My 9th grade year I met a boy, he was quiet and literally said nothing to me. We would pass at school and for the first time ever I was like wow who is that. Fast forward, I find out he's friends with my new older friends because he was a senior which would make sense why I never saw him before. We eventually had small interactions and then one day at a party we hooked up. Go figure. We danced and kissed and I was like holy shit I'm gonna get in so much trouble. After that he literally said nothing to me until months went by and it happened again and this time it went all the way. First of all as I'm writing this why the fuck would he be the one to choose? Fuckin guy didn't do anything. Anyway.

I'm 14 and I've lost my virginity to a senior who also lost his virginity to me. Everyone we knew found out and made fun of him for hooking up with such a young girl. Everyone was so mean to me and he never talked to me again not a single word. Later I find out he was too embarrassed, what a pussy.

Instead of being sad I got really mad and started partying more and being kind of a tease because I thought it was funny that guys would try to hook up with me and I could say no but a girl they knew for years would be trying to hook up with them and the guy wouldn't want to. My way of killing two birds with one stone, getting over a guy and pissing off girls who were being mean to me.

Eventually I had my first legit boyfriend and that was.. a first. Typical I threw away my whole world for him but it wasn't hard since we were in the same group, things continued pretty much as normal minus the fact that I always had a ride now.

A lot of things happened that would need an entire book to fill in order for me to explain my self enstated independence from my dad, moving in with a friend, moving in with my coupons, then ending up in Washington.

I spent the entire time in Washington flying back and forth to California partially to see my boyfriend and partially to stay with friends and party.

My boyfriend and I ended pretty bad. He had developed depression and became a legitimate alcoholic, was cheating on me with multiple girls who I was suspicious of, then finally he was a complete drunk monster and that was the end of that.

Once again I found my way. I stayed in Washington and completed high school where I also met a whole squad of female demons. But yet again I started dating someone I met at a party. I didn't know him at all just what I knew from parties and social media. I figured we would be good friends and have fun and it was one of those things where he just called me his girlfriend one day. This was the biggest mistake I could've ever made. This guy was abusive, mentally and physically. I've never dealt with anyone like that and found myself at my weakest point. He spat in my face, threw my belongings all over the place, cheated on me physically, cheated on me on social media, fought with me publicly and on social media. Ultimately he ended up hacking any kind of internet profile I owned and was trying to ruin my life and I had to go to his house get my stuff and tell his parents and threaten legal action. Worst person ever.

Then right before I move to college a friend of mine was really in to setting me up with someone and I told her sure but nothing official. I hung out with this guy and her a few times and started to like him just because he was a normal guy. Pretty basic, friends, family, a dog. Most of all worshipped the ground I walk on. Everything was pretty easy going he asked me to be his girlfriend and I didn't see why not so I said yes, we dated in Washington for 3 months. I moved to California and we were still together even though that wasn't the plan. While I was there the day before my first ever jiu jitsu tournament I get a call "Keanna I'm so sorry I should've never done that I feel so terrible" the voice was a girl but the number wasn't recognized. It was a friend of my boyfriend, she told me that they went to lunch and after went back to his place. I didn't care much about him hanging out with girls because he had a lot of girl friends and it just wasn't an issue. She said that she wanted to break up with her crazy boyfriend and she saw an opportunity (to cheat) and took it. They went back to his house after having a long talk about how they used to have feelings for each other. The stories after this don't really add up but what I gather is that they went up to his room to have sex or something and she started feeling guilty, because we were "friends" and told him she changed her mind to which he responded "can I touch your ass at least" and she pulled her pants down and he touched her ass. Doesn't make sense yeah? So anyway I'm not really trying to deal with this and I should've broken up with him but instead I call him and I said "what did you do?" He sounds confused so I ask again but this time louder. He panicks and says I don't know I don't know. He ended up telling me and flew down the weekend after because wanted to talk. While he was there I looked through his phone and saw some other conversations he was having and also saw that when we first were hanging out he had another option if I didn't go through. Another option who apparently was in his bed when they were making out and she got her period and bled on him she felt so inclined to apologize. After this I lost my shit and didn't trust him at all and I just wanted him to leave. He begged me to forgive him and promised nothing would ever happen again and like me, I go with it. We end up dating for a total of two years. After he said he wouldn't do anything he really didn't. I still let him do whatever he wanted if he wanted to go to Vegas with his friends or party or go to lunch with girls. I just didn't really care I guess, my friend told me "do what you want to do so I know what you'd rather do" so I kept that. Eventually I was tired of how dependent he was. I had to do everything for him aside from basic chores. I had to file papers for him (e.g work, school, gym) I felt like I was teaching him how to do things and I just got tired of it. I felt like everything was almost too good and too plain because I was carrying the relationship. I was better than him at everything. We broke up and he moved out which was a long process.

During that process I was working my first full time job, had a recently found new best friend, and was spending most of my time with someone from high school who didn't like me but we ended up liking our adult selfs. This person suggested that I start hanging out with a teammate, a guy I knew since the 6th grade, or at least knew who he was. She said she thought we would be cute together and people always made fun of us for being so close. Never in my mind did I think I would date him. I just didn't see him like that. We started hanging out and realized we have a lot more in common than we thought. Everything happened pretty fast and things were so different. For once I was open to the idea of having a "friends with benefits" because I knew this person for a while and knew he wasn't exactly the relationship type. I told him that this could work out as long as he didn't keep me in the dark and was honest with me. After 4 months of us being kind of exclusive kind of not he told me that he loved me more than anyone else and I felt the same way. We were officially official. I felt so close to him in ways I never felt with anyone else. Eventually we had our first issue. I had found out that he had been chatting with our old classmate who lived in a city near by, he was telling her all kinds of false nothings and she asked "aren't you dating Keanna?" To which he replied "ugh". I found out because we were sitting with each other that night and she messaged him, I said ew why are you talking to that girl? And he said they were talking because she lived near by. I messaged her "hey girl. Bryson told me you live in LA we should hang sometime" to which she responded something like "Keanna I'm so sorry I shouldn't have been talking to him I'm so sorry I did this to you" followed with screenshots of their conversation. I was hurt. I freaked out, he left, he came back and squeezed me tight after hours of us fighting and said he was sorry and it would never happen again. A few months go by and we're sort of living together mostly because I didn't want to hang out at his house anymore and my place was cuter. Every morning before he went to work he spent a huge amount of time in the bathroom and I was always kind of like wtf and I don't remember how I found this out but I found out that he was flirting with girls during those hours because some how one of the girls told me and sent me screenshots of their conversations. Once again I got mad and forgave him and months went by. I go away for thanksgiving break leaving him at our place/my place. I come back to beautiful flowers and more attention than I had before. He told me shortly after that break that he wasn't going to be hanging with his old friends because they were bad news and I was pretty surprised. I kind of agreed but I also think.. idk my friends are wild too. Either way things were good. One day he gets a FaceTime call and didn't want to answer it, I copied the number in to google and found a name of a girl I recognized from a while ago at my birthday. I was drunk and he let me send a Snapchat to a bunch of girls I told them "I will ruin your life" the only one who responded was this girl who said "I didn't even do anything" and I thought it was funny. I find out that while I was gone for thanksgiving he and his friend picked this girl up and her friend and brought them to my apartment and they stayed the night. They made a vlog about how they picked them up in my car and how they hung out at my place and slept so long that they missed their flight. The next morning there were videos of my boyfriend driving them back in my car. My heart stopped.

I've never felt so blind sided in my life. I hated him and I didn't want to see him again but somehow he convinced me that it was all a mistake and he already cut all these toxic people out of his life.

He suggested that we delete social media and I remember the exactly message "if you love me you'll do the same thing" and I was like wow, yeah let's do it. That was probably the most interesting time of my life. For once I didn't have social media and I had to answer to everyone as to why and tell them that I am okay and that I'm just taking time off. We ended up moving to LA to be closer to school. His friend moved in from Kauai and stayed only 6 months. Living in LA was an interesting change. We got to eat a lot and experience a different kind of the city.

Lots of little things happened while we were here, we fought a lot about social media. He would reactivate his Instagram without telling me which I felt like was kind of shady since we were doing this together and I didn't know there was that option on the table but I felt like life was better without it anyway. At one point I saw a call on his phone made from Snapchat to a random girl. I asked about it and it got no where but I became very suspicious. At this point my trust level was low as could be but I just thought that the goods were good and that bads were so stupid and avoidable. One day I just decided to look through his Venmo and the first name said "queenturtlee" I was like wtf kind of name is that so I look it up on google and see that it's connected to a Twitter account of a girl asking people to send her money. I reach out to her and ask why she's friends with my boyfriend to which she sends me screenshots of their conversations and once again I am frantic. I screenshot all of it and send it to him, we go through the apologies again. And yet again I believe that he was going to delete it. Half way through living in Palos Verdes, life at this point is a fucking rollercoaster. I haven't told anyone about anything thats happened I haven't opened up or really understand how I feel about it we just keep moving. One night after he was out with friends he was getting texts and calls from a Hawaii phone number which I thought was strange, I look it up on a google and I recognize the name. I start questioning it but I get deflected, it's nothing it's nothing. Once again we move on.

A few months go by and we're hit with an actual pandemic. We leave LA all together to go to Washington temporarily and it turned in to permanently after realizing that life in California just wasn't going to be sustainable. I graduated college virtually, we were living in my grandmas house for 3-4 months. Things were weird. We were managing to stay positive by doing all the things we possibly could to stay active and have a good summer.

Eventually we got our own place, moved all our belongings up, and got a puppy! Things were still locked down but at least we had all of our things and more importantly we had this little fluffy bear.

I've always struggled with birth control because I would get the worst symptoms so a friend told me about tracking ovulation and taking my basal body temperature in place of taking birth control. This method was risky but I felt like it was okay because she does it. One day I felt really sick and realized I didn't get my period, I took 5 pregnancy tests all faded positive negative. This led to me having to take a bunch of blood tests and ultrasounds to find out that I was exactly 3 weeks pregnant.

I wasn't ready and had no intention on having the baby but I had to wait until a fetus was visible to do anything about it. While I'm in this process I get a random message from a classmate I haven't talked to in years. They say "hey girl sorry to message you about this but I was at a family party and there were some girls talking about your boyfriend subscribing to her only fans" I immediately felt my heart drop lower than ever. The girl who was at the party messaged me, she told the girl with the only fans to message me and she did. She sent me everything and I remembered a time recently when I walked out late at night and saw him on Snapchat which is where the messages she showed me came from. So once again I confront him but this time it's different. I'm going through something that I never thought. I'm waiting weeks knowing I'm pregnant feeling nauseas, anxious, and scared. What am I supposed to do now.

After a huge fight, the solution was that he would delete it again and give me his password.

This was probably the worst it ever was. A couple nights I unlocked his phone and then got nervous and locked it again. I wanted to look but I was scared of what I would find. I couldn't sleep every night, I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't know if I could trust him anymore. Everything was so good how was I going to deal with a breakup, a puppy separation, all after moving to a new state. I thought to myself, if I don't look now I'll never know. So I do. I find messages that date back to a year. I find all the extra messages that no one sent me, I find money trails sent to females for nudes or sexual messages. Worst of all I find the girl that I saw calling him a year before when he came home late that one night. He had been talking to this girl the entire time, telling her stories about things we were doing. Worst of all is that he wrote the words "I love you".

I completely lost my shit. I woke him up in a rage showing him all the things I saw asking him how he could do this to me.

I never wanted to see him again I felt like I was going to throw up. I was crying so much I felt like the world knew.

He went to his moms house and I tried to stay out or away as much as possible without telling my family anything. At this point it hurt so much. I love him so much, everything outside of social media is a dream so why would he risk that? I felt insecure. A few days before my surgery he told me that he wanted to be there for me and that he was a changed person and realized how fucked up he was but he didn't want me to go through it alone. I didn't want to go through it alone either, I couldn't stop thinking about what I saw and all the names I read. I felt alone and like I was looking at a stranger.

He came back and we slowly tried to figure out how to be normal again. Since then we've moved on far but I think he moves much faster or at least it seems like it. He is my best friend and someone I care about differently than I've ever before. We make a great team, we support each other and know each other on a deep level. We can be our selves with each other. We know each other more than I've ever known any of my friends.

Today, we are still together. He is still my best friend. Our little fluffy bear is now a semi-huge German shepherd who is the cutest and most well behaved 9 month old ever. We've established ourselves in Washington and he actually got a really good job doing what he went to school for. In regards to loyalty things have been going well so far. It's taken me a lot to get to where I am now, I feel like I lost myself for a long time. I'm trying to work on myself lately and trying to stay focused on things that really matter. Our life is pretty much picture perfect but we're still growing up.

Our most constant argument is always social media, but now it's all over the place. It's me being crazy, it's him being careless. A constant circle of misunderstanding each other and breaking each other down emotionally. Sometimes I wish there was a way to forget everything. I wish social media was as it were before, simple. I wish communication wasn't so aggressive and that there was an easier way to mediate instead of getting a therapist. I don't know I wish there was a way to make the pain go away. To not think about what's made me who I am today.

I think it's hard being in your 20s. Everyone is at different stages of life. They have different priorities. People who you grew up with are now spread across the world and you may go years without seeing someone you consider your close friend.

One thing that's hard for me now is not knowing what's next. I feel as if I've given all of the emotional gas I have and if anything else makes my heart drop I think I'll completely give up.

I wish it was easier to get over a fear but some people including myself need extra support. Unfortunately for my boyfriend, not only does he get to deal with what we've been through but he has to deal with all that I've been through.

I always feel like no one I know actually knew what I went through growing up. Boyfriends or best friends are usually the ones who get to know you best and so far only one person who's not my family knows so much about me. Life has shown me how easy it's been for people to leave me or treat me badly. I know that I am not a perfect person but I do know that I don't deserve half the things I experienced. I blame myself for being too forgiving, I blame the church for teaching me that trait, I blame my dad for making me go and making me think life was different than it was.

At this point I have no one to blame but myself for how things have gone. All I can hope is that all that I have now stays afloat and keeps growing in the positive direction that it has. I can't control everything even though I want to.

#self care #relationships #mental health #exercise #diet #friends #making friends #switching schools

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