arrangements by me

2

do you ever just get hit with a truckload of inspiration from reading a fic because????? i have

this is a gift for @adreamingsongbird!! THANK YOU FOR WRITING SUCH A BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING FIC!! and for answering my questions about their clothes lmaoo  

(you could read this beautiful fic here!! that’s right read it >>here<< and you should definitely read it right now at this moment because it’s great and i’m in love and did i mention that it’s beautiful???

Harvey Weinsten sexually Harassed Lupita Nyong’o

Lupita: “I have been following the news and reading the accounts of women coming forward to talk about being assaulted by Harvey Weinstein and others. I had shelved my experience with Harvey far in the recesses of my mind, joining in the conspiracy of silence that has allowed this predator to prowl for so many years. I had felt very much alone when these things happened, and I had blamed myself for a lot of it, quite like many of the other women who have shared their stories.

But now that this is being discussed openly, I have not been able to avoid the memories resurfacing. I have felt sick in the pit of my stomach. I have felt such a flare of rage that the experience I recount below was not a unique incident with me, but rather part of a sinister pattern of behavior.

I met Harvey Weinstein in 2011 at an awards ceremony in Berlin, while I was still a student at the Yale School of Drama. An intermediary introduced him to me as “the most powerful producer in Hollywood.” As an aspiring actress, I was of course eager to meet people in the industry but cautious about strangers, and the intentions of men in general. So I tried to vet this famous producer by asking my dinner-table companions what they knew of him. A woman who was a producer herself cautiously advised me to “keep Harvey in your corner.” She said: “He is a good man to know in the business, but just be careful around him. He can be a bully.” And so I exchanged contacts with him in the hopes that I would be of consideration for one of his projects. I wanted to keep things professional, so I made a point of referring to him as “Mr. Weinstein.” But he insisted that I call him by his first name. In this first encounter, I found him to be very direct and authoritative, but also charming. He didn’t quite put me at ease, but he didn’t alarm me, either.

Not long after we met in Berlin, Harvey wrote to me inviting me to attend a screening of a film — a competitor’s film similar to one he had produced. He said we would be watching it with his family at his home in Westport, Conn., which was not far away from New Haven, where I was living at the time. He would send a car to pick me up. I accepted the invitation.

The driver and I met Harvey in the little town of Westport, where he informed me that we would be having lunch at a restaurant before getting to his home. I did not think much of this. It was a busy restaurant, and as soon as we sat down he ordered a vodka and diet soda for himself. I asked for a juice. Harvey was unimpressed with my choice and told the waiter to bring me a vodka and diet soda instead. I declined and said I wanted the juice. We went back and forth until finally he turned to the waiter and said, “Get her what I tell you to get her. I’m the one paying the bill.” I smiled and remained silent. The waiter left and returned with a vodka and diet soda for me. He placed it on the table beside my water. I drank the water. Harvey told me that I needed to drink the vodka and diet soda. I informed him that I would not.

“Why not?” I remember him asking. “Because I don’t like vodka, and I don’t like diet soda, and I don’t like them together,” I said. “You are going to drink that,” he insisted. I smiled again and said that I wouldn’t. He gave up and called me stubborn. I said, “I know.” And the meal proceeded without much further ado. In this second encounter with Harvey, I found him to be pushy and idiosyncratic more than anything.

We got to his home after lunch and I met his domestic staff and his young children. He took me on a brief tour of the house before he rounded us all up in the screening room to watch the film. He had just produced a similar film of his own, but everyone was raving about this rival version.

I settled in for the film, but about 15 minutes in, Harvey came for me, saying he wanted to show me something. I protested that I wanted to finish the film first, but he insisted I go with him, laying down the law as though I too was one of his children. I did not want another back-and-forth in front of his kids, so I complied and left the room with him. I explained that I really wanted to see the film. He said we’d go back shortly.

Harvey led me into a bedroom — his bedroom — and announced that he wanted to give me a massage. I thought he was joking at first. He was not. For the first time since I met him, I felt unsafe. I panicked a little and thought quickly to offer to give him one instead: It would allow me to be in control physically, to know exactly where his hands were at all times.

Part of our drama school curriculum at Yale included body work, using massage techniques on one another to understand the connection between body, mind and emotion, and so I felt I could rationalize giving him one and keep a semblance of professionalism in spite of the bizarre circumstance. He agreed to this and lay on the bed. I began to massage his back to buy myself time to figure out how to extricate myself from this undesirable situation. Before long he said he wanted to take off his pants. I told him not to do that and informed him that it would make me extremely uncomfortable. He got up anyway to do so and I headed for the door, saying that I was not at all comfortable with that. “If we’re not going to watch the film, I really should head back to school,” I said.

I opened the door and stood by the frame. He put his shirt on and again mentioned how stubborn I was. I agreed with an easy laugh, trying to get myself out of the situation safely. I was after all on his premises, and the members of his household, the potential witnesses, were all (strategically, it seems to me now) in a soundproof room.

Earlier Harvey had sent the driver to the store to buy a boxed collection of “The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency,” an HBO show that he had produced. This was the project he thought I would be right for, he said. (I later found out that the show had not been on the air for some time.) As I prepared to leave his home, he presented it to me. He wanted me to check it out and let him know what I thought. He would be in touch about it. I left for New Haven with his driver.

I didn’t quite know how to process the massage incident. I reasoned that it had been inappropriate and uncalled-for, but not overtly sexual. I was entering into a business where the intimate is often professional and so the lines are blurred. I was in an educational program where I was giving massages to my classmates and colleagues every day. Though the incident with Harvey had made me uncomfortable, I was able to explain and justify it to myself, and shelve it as an awkward moment. His offer to me to be a part of the HBO show was a very attractive one and I was excited about it, especially as I would be graduating in another year. I didn’t know how to proceed without jeopardizing my future. But I knew I would not be accepting any more visits to private spaces with Harvey Weinstein.

I decided to invite Harvey to come to a production I was in at school. Perhaps that way he would really see what I had to offer, and he would see my colleagues, too. He accepted the invitation, but the night of the production, he sent a message saying he had been caught up in New York and would be unable to attend. He would make it up to me. So when I received an official invitation to a staged reading of his new Broadway show, “Finding Neverland,” I was not surprised. I was still debating whether I should accept his invitation, and so I responded saying I was not certain that I could make it because of my school schedule. He responded with exactly the words I needed to hear: Come with whomever you want to come with. And so I invited two of my trusted male friends.

We attended the reading, and afterward Harvey invited us all to a restaurant for dinner with his comrades and collaborators. He sat me next to him, and another actress sat across from me. He had my friends sit at a different table. The talk was shop the whole time and Harvey held court with ease. He was charming and funny once more, and I felt confused about the discomfort I had previously experienced. I looked at the actress who I was informed had just worked with him on a project, searching her face for any sort of indication that she too had been made to feel uncomfortable by this powerful man, but of course I saw nothing. We did not stay very long because we had to catch a train back to New Haven. My friends had been equally charmed by Harvey. He knew when to turn it on if he wanted something. He was definitely a bully, but he could be really charming, which was disarming and confusing. I left feeling that perhaps he had learned my boundaries and was going to respect them.

A couple of months later, I received an email from Harvey, inviting me again to New York for a screening of “W.E.” After the screening, we would have drinks in TriBeCa. I then received a phone call from one of his male assistants to arrange my transportation. Feeling more confident about the new sense of boundaries that we had established in our last meeting, I attended the screening on my own this time. Afterward, as planned, his male assistant arranged for me to get to the Tribeca Grill, where Harvey would be joining us. I met a female assistant when I arrived there. I was expecting that it would be a group of us, as it had been for the reading, but she informed me it would just be Mr. Weinstein. She would sit with me until he arrived. She seemed on edge, but I could only imagine how stressful it was to work for a man who had so much going on.

Harvey arrived and the assistant immediately disappeared. We ordered drinks and starters. Again he was offended by my nonalcoholic beverage choice but he didn’t fight me on it as hard. Before the starters arrived, he announced: “Let’s cut to the chase. I have a private room upstairs where we can have the rest of our meal.” I was stunned. I told him I preferred to eat in the restaurant. He told me not to be so naïve. If I wanted to be an actress, then I had to be willing to do this sort of thing. He said he had dated Famous Actress X and Y and look where that had gotten them.

I was silent for a while before I mustered up the courage to politely decline his offer. “You have no idea what you are passing up,” he said. “With all due respect, I would not be able to sleep at night if I did what you are asking, so I must pass,” I replied.

His whole demeanor changed at that point. “Then I guess we are two ships passing in the night.” I had never heard that saying before, so I remember asking him what it meant. “It means just that,” he said. “We are two ships going in two different directions.”

“Yes, I guess we are.”

“So we are done here,” he said. “You can leave.”

We got up, having not eaten anything, and he led me out of the restaurant. My heart was beating very fast. A cab was hailed for me. I said I would take the subway (I could not afford a cab at the time), but he handed me some money and told me not to be silly, take the cab. Before I got in, I needed to make sure that I had not awakened a beast that would go on to ruin my name and destroy my chances in the business even before I got there.

“I just want to know that we are good,” I said.

“I don’t know about your career, but you’ll be fine,” he said. It felt like both a threat and a reassurance at the same time; of what, I couldn’t be sure.

I did not see Harvey again until September 2013 when I was in Toronto for the premiere of “12 Years a Slave,” the first feature film I was in. At an after-party, he found me and evicted whoever was sitting next to me to sit beside me. He said he couldn’t believe how fast I had gotten to where I was, and that he had treated me so badly in the past. He was ashamed of his actions and he promised to respect me moving forward. I said thank you and left it at that. But I made a quiet promise to myself to never ever work with Harvey Weinstein.

Not long after I won the Academy Award in 2014, I received an offer to play a role in one of the Weinstein Company’s forthcoming films. I knew I would not do it simply because it was the Weinstein Company, but I did not feel comfortable telling this to anybody. I turned down the role, but Harvey would not take no for an answer. While at Cannes, he insisted on meeting with me in person. I agreed to do it only because my agent would be present. In the meeting, he was honest about intending to persuade me to do his movie. I told him I simply did not feel it was a role I needed to play. He said he was open to making it bigger, more significant, maybe they could add a love scene. He said if I did this one for him, he would do another one for me — basically guaranteeing backing a star-vehicle film for me. I ran out of ways of politely saying no and so did my agent. I was so exasperated by the end that I just kept quiet. Harvey finally accepted my position and expressed that he still wanted to work with me at some point. “Thank you, I hope so,” I lied.

And that was the last of my personal encounters with Harvey Weinstein. I share all of this now because I know now what I did not know then. I was part of a growing community of women who were secretly dealing with harassment by Harvey Weinstein. But I also did not know that there was a world in which anybody would care about my experience with him. You see, I was entering into a community that Harvey Weinstein had been in, and even shaped, long before I got there. He was one of the first people I met in the industry, and he told me, “This is the way it is.” And wherever I looked, everyone seemed to be bracing themselves and dealing with him, unchallenged. I did not know that things could change. I did not know that anybody wanted things to change. So my survival plan was to avoid Harvey and men like him at all costs, and I did not know that I had allies in this.

Fortunately for me, I have not dealt with any such incidents in the business since. And I think it is because all the projects I have been a part of have had women in positions of power, along with men who are feminists in their own right who have not abused their power. What I am most interested in now is combating the shame we go through that keeps us isolated and allows for harm to continue to be done. I wish I had known that there were women in the business I could have talked to. I wish I had known that there were ears to hear me. That justice could be served. There is clearly power in numbers. I thank the women who have spoken up and given me the strength to revisit this unfortunate moment in my past.

Our business is complicated because intimacy is part and parcel of our profession; as actors we are paid to do very intimate things in public. That’s why someone can have the audacity to invite you to their home or hotel and you show up. Precisely because of this we must stay vigilant and ensure that the professional intimacy is not abused. I hope we are in a pivotal moment where a sisterhood — and brotherhood of allies — is being formed in our industry. I hope we can form a community where a woman can speak up about abuse and not suffer another abuse by not being believed and instead being ridiculed. That’s why we don’t speak up — for fear of suffering twice, and for fear of being labeled and characterized by our moment of powerlessness. Though we may have endured powerlessness at the hands of Harvey Weinstein, by speaking up, speaking out and speaking together, we regain that power. And we hopefully ensure that this kind of rampant predatory behavior as an accepted feature of our industry dies here and now.

Now that we are speaking, let us never shut up about this kind of thing. I speak up to make certain that this is not the kind of misconduct that deserves a second chance. I speak up to contribute to the end of the conspiracy of silence.”


I’m so happy Lupita shared her story and I have so much more respect for her and commend her for sticking by her morals. It’s disgusting that Harvey would even try something with her while his kids were in the other room, what a sick bastard

Tip for any girls newer to the SB/ escort life

Do NOT let a man make you feel guilty for “acting like a prostitute”, I.e demanding compensation upfront. Ive had 3 situations in my life where the man didn’t pay me upfront, in cash. Each time he has a bogus ass reason, I.e. it makes it feel less genuine, he doesn’t like how the girls act after he pays them, etc…EACH of these 3 times (note I see men multiple times a week over the last 2 years…so, LOTS of experience)…I was cheated!!

1. I was a senior in college. This man sent an electronic bank payment while we were at the hotel. The payment WAS sent, but never went through, I.e the bank denied it the next business day. He never paid up.
2. The man (stupid me, thought I could trust him), said he’ll pay me after. Well after he suggested we go to the bar, then have another round. We go downstairs. I turn for one second, this motherfucker RUNS away.
3. The man convinced me that he’d give me $ after, which he did, but during the act, made me feel like I had to succumb to doing things I didn’t wanna do, so that I’d get paid. He ends up NOT using a condom against my demands and I had to take a plan B and actually considered filing a lawsuit for a long time. FUCK him. Really. I wish the worst on him.

I recently met with a man off SA who just refused to give it to me upfront. We legit argued for 10 minutes. He tried to kiss me as if I was there to play with his saggy azz and give in, I pushed him away and left. Honestly just typing these stories makes my blood boil so Ima stop right there.

Moral is. Of my 100s of tricks I’ve turned, never has it gone well when he refuses to compensate you upon your arrival. Stay safe ladies. Don’t let these disgusting delusional trouts finesse you. Learn from my mistakes. Xo

Where Every Brown Sugar Baby Should Look for Her Next Sugar Daddy and Why

The more the game changes, the more it stays the same.

     Best friend, my first disappointment with sugaring came when I realized that sugaring sites were not for me. When I joined Tumblr, I was surrounded by stories of women who signed up for Seeking Arrangement and within an hour found their inbox full of messages from men willing to hand them the world or at least a pair of So Kate’s on the first date. When I joined Tumblr, I thought that I was going to command large allowances just because I existed, not because I did any work. I learned otherwise.

     My successes with sugaring came when I got very clear about what exactly it was that I was sugaring for. I realized that I couldn’t make myself care about designer goods. They’re pretty, and I loved looking at them on Instagram but dating a man so he could buy me luxury goods just did not seem like a lot of fun. But art supplies? Everything I needed to write a novel and maintain my blog? That sounded much more feasible. As soon as I committed to it, it happened. As soon as I got off the sugaring sites, it happened.  

     As an introvert, I did get off the sugaring sites, but it took me quite a while to get off the internet. I used Tinder to find the three gift daddies that I had. Last month, I went free styling for the first time.   

     There is a general horror around free styling that, trust me, I understand. If I didn’t have to leave my house, I wouldn’t. But I realized a few things. The sugar sites are not set up for you to succeed. We, as sugar babies, are the draw that is used to attract men with money and unrealistic dreams.  

     Do you want to have the perfect relationship? A young, beautiful, smart woman who will hang off your every word and, unlike escorts, will be with you and you alone for a fraction of the price that escorts are demanding? Sign up for a membership with our site at the low price of $39.99/month and become a sugar daddy tonight!

     While this might not be the exact language the sites are using, I guarantee if you go on any of the sugar sites you will see something similar being touted to men.  I also promise that the men that have the real potential to be amazing sugar daddies and give you things you didn’t believe that you could get aren’t on these sites.
     

     And, honey, maybe you haven’t noticed but online dating-sugar or vanilla- is not set up for black women to succeed. I’ll say it once more. You’re far more likely to find the man you’re looking for when you let go of the sugar sites.
So what happens next? Next, you change your mindset. There is one thing that needs adjustment, your attitude, in two different areas. The first is what a sugar daddy looks like. Maybe you don’t have this problem. But I do. I tend to find myself thinking that sugar daddies look a certain way. They’re white and in their 40’s-50’s. Most of them are married. But this isn’t what sugar daddies look like. They can be any age. They can be any race. They can be anywhere. When it’s time to free style, don’t think that if a Black man, an Asian man, a Martian, whatever, approaches you that because they don’t fit in with the idea of what you think an SD looks like you can’t pay any attention to them.

     There will be three types of men that you’ll meet when you go out: cheap men that would like your time and attention for free, men that will simply ask how much you want or make it known that they have no problem paying you, and men that are willing to spend money on you but need some type of connection with you first. Ugh, connection. Don’t you hate that word? Men should just hand us money because we asked for it right? We’re young, we’re beautiful, we’re smart. Just fork over the coins.

     But consider this. How often do you give money to complete strangers because they asked for it? How often have you walked up to an attractive or interesting looking person with $5 that you know you don’t need and said: “here this is for you just because you look cool or like you needed a little help”? Never right? If we were a society where that was the norm homelessness would not be an issue. No, we give our money to people we like, to people that have bettered our lives in some way, to people we trust. But, still. That word-connection. Months and months of dates. Maybe even putting out. That must be what I mean, right? Nope. Not what I mean at all. A connection can be made in 15 minutes or 15 months. It really just depends on how well your personality meshes with his.

     How do you tell these men apart? Let’s build a scenario, shall we? Let’s say you meet a man at a bar. You each talk a bit about who you are and what you do for a living. His job sounds promising. You don’t know exactly how much he makes but when you google it in the bathroom after touching up your lipstick you see that it’s an acceptable amount. He buys you a drink to continue the conversation you’ve already started, but when the night ends, he doesn’t pick up the tab you had started before he sat down. Splenda! Salt! That’s what Tumblr will tell you. I say wait. You spend some time texting. He says he wants to take you out. This is when we find out what kind of man he is by analyzing a few things:


  • Where does he want to meet? TGIFridays or one of the best restaurants/bars in the city. Look at where he wants to take you and why. If he asks you where you want to eat and then shoots it down because it’s overpriced or “just not his scene” you have two options: dig your heels in or run. My first meeting with Bentley took some time to plan because he shot down the restaurants that I chose as not being good enough for a first date. It was a good first sign. 
  • How and what do they order? We know what a man who doesn’t want to spend a lot of money looks like when he orders at a restaurant or bar. He asks if there are any discounts or deals. Asks what’s the best and cheapest drink or food item on the menu. Makes “jokes” about how expensive everything is. 
  • How do they look when you order? A man that asks if you want anything else after you’ve decided what you want is a keeper. A man that asks what you want scans the menu and then asks if you’re sure you want those things or if you’d be happy with something cheaper presents you with two options: to dig your heels in or run.
  • What are they talking to you about? A man that talks about sex as soon as he meets you only wants you for one thing and it ain’t playing cards. Now, if he’s willing to compensate you for that time in a way that you find acceptable, fine. Get your money girl. If you want a man that cares about you as an individual but he can’t stop talking about how well he’s doing on Viagra, you have two options. Dig in or run. I suggest you run, but this is your life, not mine
  • Do they listen when you speak? Do they remember what you said? I got my first laptop from a man who listened when I talked about wanting to write. I got my second laptop and art supplies from a man who listened to my business plan. If they can’t hear you, they can’t help you. 

     When the date is over, look at this man’s behavior. You’ll know if he’s the type of man that you can keep in your life. If he isn’t, let him go. LET HIM GO! Don’t, please friend, don’t hang on to a man because you don’t think that you’ll be able to get another. This game isn’t for the desperate that need quick cash because their life is falling apart. This is going to take time. You’ll find yourself getting dressed up and going out quite a few times before you find a man that you’re willing to stick with. If you understand this from the beginning, that reaching any goal is going to take time, you’ll be far less likely to fail.

     I’d like to give one piece of controversial advice. Do not ask for a gift or token or whatever you want to call it on the first date. Remember what we talked about earlier? About how we don’t give away our hard earned money to strangers or the undeserving? This applies here. And I know, I know. The posts of girls that say they asked for a gift and got one is so much more fun to read than what I’m saying, but here we are best friend, here we are.

     You do have one thing on your side. Men know that it is their responsibility to take care of the women in their lives. Vanilla men know this. They know. I’m going to say it one more time, best friend so it really sinks in. All men know that it is their responsibility to take care of the women in their lives. What’s more, they know that the younger and better looking a woman is, the more they will have to spend. Your job is not to convince a man to spend money on you. He already knows he should. Your job is to separate the men willing to spend from the men not willing to spend by opening up your mouth and talking about what you want. Talk about college and the class that you’re going to be taking, but god isn’t it crazy how expensive books are? Talk about how much you love to write, but your laptop broke. Talk about how you want to get into digital photography but don’t know what camera to get or if you can afford to buy one. Give it a couple weeks. The right man will show up with a laptop, or an iPad, or a book, or a camera or whatever it is you say you need. The wrong man won’t have made it past the first date.

Happy hunting, best friend.

Best friend, be honest, what did you think? Do you think you could ever get off the sugar sites? Go free styling? Do you think my approach makes any sense or is something that could work for you? Leave me a comment and let me know so we can talk about it.

askdjf im doing a request for Cosette’s wedding bouquet and I was like “hm fleur de lys is ‘flame or burning’ that could work” but then I remembered it’s a symbol of the French monarchy and I just pictured Enjolras’ ghost knocking the bouquet from Cosette’s hands cause “GODDAMMIT MARIUS WE TALKED ABOUT THIS”

The New Sugar List: 47 Songs to Inspire You

I created the sugar list out of need. I needed to songs to get ready to, to boost my confidence to, to remember why I had decided to go pro in the first place. Once I started the list, I found myself listening to and discovering new songs to add to the list. It’s an ever growing monster that I hope you enjoy. There are some songs that would be perfect on this playlist that I avoided because I had exhausted their appeal to me and others because I didn’t like the artist or the message they were providing. This list is just a jumping off point. Tweak it to your hearts content. 

  1. Whatever You Like- T.I.- Perhaps one of the first songs I ever heard that talked about sugaring. It’s still a dream. A man that will look me in the eye and say I can have whatever I like? Please, sugar gods, please. 
  2. 6 Inch- Beyonce- Walk in the club like nobody’s business….
  3. Pay Me- Miguel- …and tell them to pay you. 
  4. Normally I Get It-Lola Wolf- This song is SO me as a newbie. Improvising, taking advice I should have ignored, wondering how it all went wrong. It’s an excellent reminder of how far I’ve come and an opportunity to laugh at the past. 
  5. Lemme Get That- Rihanna- Her Excellency appears on this list five or six times. There’s a reason for that. This song in particular has always warmed my heart. There was a time when I was breaking up and making up over furniture.
  6. Bandz a Make Her Dance- Juicy J- Because, yes, bandz will make me do things that I wouldn’t do otherwise. Like pay attention to you. 
  7. Can’t Tell Me Nothing- Kanye West- This is my reminder that I’m not sugaring for accessories. I’m trying to better myself. To get certain things that will advance me towards my goal. To build a business that will get my money so right, I’ll only have men around for giggles. 
  8. Money Make Her Smile- Bruno Mars- Well, this isn’t a lie. 
  9. Work B**ch- Britney Spears- It’s my alarm to get up in the morning. It’s my reminder that this life isn’t easy
  10. Pour It Up- Rihanna- A reminder not to be afraid to get what I want. He could leave me tomorrow but I’ve still got these gifts and I know I can find someone to get me more.
  11. Glamorous- Fergie- If you aint got no money take your broke ass home. Thanks
  12. Maneater- Nelly Furtado- Because after some time spent fumbling, I’ve figured out what type of seducer I am. Men beware. 
  13. Raining Men- Rihanna- I could dwell on my failures or I could recognize that there’s more than one rich man out there and get another.
  14. Murder- Justin Timberlake- The self esteem boost I need when I can’t get my eyebrows right.
  15. Luxurious- Gwen Stefani- You worked so hard to get an SD and now you have. You worked so hard on your profile and gathered the courage to go on a POT date. Celebrate
  16. Love ‘Em All- K. Michelle- When my vanilla friends ask how I can go from man to man so quickly, this is the song that starts playing in my head
  17. Faithful- Drake- This song doesn’t really belong on this list but when I heard Amber Rose saying that she just liked really expensive shit, well I had to add it. 
  18. She Knows- Ne-Yo- I didn’t quite understand the concept of owning your sex appeal, of never apologizing for it. I get it now. 
  19. Throw Sum Mo- Rae Sremmurd- If you’ve got cash who or what should you be spending it on besides me? Throw some mo.
  20. Shawty is Da Sh*!- The- Dream- Yes, actually, I am. 
  21. All N My Grill- Missy Elliott- To the men who want to text and email and date the women they met on SD sites but don’t want to do the one thing that the site says they should be doing. Why aren’t they paying bills?
  22. She Wants to Move- N.E.R.D. - When it’s time for me to leave you, when it’s time for me to dance, you don’t need to come with me, daddy.
  23. Paper Planes- M.I.A. - All I want to do is take your money? Sounds accurate
  24. Got It- Marian Hill- My reminder that the things I have, the things I bring to the table can’t be bought or stolen by any man. There isn’t enough money in the world
  25. My Love is Like…Wo- Mya- This is not a lie. I will change your life. You will crawl back to me over and over again because of what I provided.
  26. Feeling Myself- Nicki Minaj- Because I am, I am feeling myself. It’s hard work but I’m successfully doing what I said I was going to do. 
  27. Bitch Better Have My Money- Rihanna- Does this honestly need an explanation? While I’ll never be posting allowance shots, I want what I was told I could have when I was told I would have it. 
  28. Plastic Bag- Drake & Future- I do deserve it, yes. 
  29. About the Money- T.I.- His second feature on this list and perhaps one of the more obvious songs. If it aint about the money, why are we speaking? What else could you possibly offer?
  30. Mascara- Jazmine Sullivan- Perhaps the song that speaks the most blatantly about life as a sugar baby on this list and the song that I think should be the sugar baby anthem, it’s a reminder to always stay well dressed, always stay ready for more. 
  31. The Boys- Nicki Minaj and Cassie- They’ll always spend money when they think there is love. 
  32. Guap- Big Sean- If you’ve ever gotten anon hate, dirty looks when you’re out in public, or patronizing conversations with friends that couldn’t begin to do what you do: I need you to blast this song. 
  33. Conceited (There’s Something About Remy)- Remy Ma- The attitude you need to have when they say you aren’t good enough and walk away, announce they don’t desire you, or try to lowball you. 
  34. Afford My Love-Dreezy-  The truth is, salty salts, you can’t afford me. This is not my problem.
  35. Money Over Love- Bilal- Money over love cause the best things in life aint free. 
  36. The Morning- The Weeknd- The money is the motive
  37. Spoiled- Wale- The song opens with Wale affectionately saying “with your spoiled ass”. I laughed. I am spoiled. Why shouldn’t I be?
  38. Anaconda- Nicki Minaj- A reminder that a man can want you for your body. Do you know what you want him for? Cause he buys you Balmain?
  39. Ex’s & Oh’s-Elle King- They always want to cum but they never want to leave (or pay).
  40. Sally-Bibi Bourelly- They don’t understand us. Hate, jealousy, and fear are better. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t dance. Let me see you rock little Sally.
  41. Back Up-Dej Loaf- Yeah, I made you feel good but…why are you blowing up my phone? Is there money? No? Back up off me. 
  42. Nun for Free-Zonnique- We don’t do nothing for free. Amen, amen.
  43. Nothing is Promised- Mike Will Made-It & Rihanna- You can lose it as quickly as you got it. Be smart
  44. Rich-K. Michelle- The only way to solve rich people problems? Get richer. Grind ladies
  45. Sex With Me- Rihanna- If I could play this song every time I’m asked if I’m a sexual person…the time I could save.
  46. No Scrubs-TLC- No explanation needed. They knew.
  47. Buy the World- Mike Will Made-It- What you think we out here hustling for? We’re just trying to buy the world and do the impossible.

What would you add to this list? Do you have any favorite songs that you get ready to take over the world (or a wallet) to?

Arranged marriage AU starter sentences
  • “So you’re my future bride/groom? You’re not what I expected at all.”
  • “I know it doesn’t seem so, but I will take care of you.”
  • “Let’s get this straight, I’m only agreeing with this arrangement so my parents would shut up.”
  • “I…think I’m in love?”
  • “You don’t have to worry, I’m never going to touch you.”
  • “I look forward to getting to know you better.”
  • “Are you scared? Don’t be. ‘ll protect you from today onwards.”
  • “You are the reason why I can’t be happy.”
  • “I don’t want to marry you at all, the person I love is someone else.”
  • “We’ll make this work out.”
  • “Don’t run away from this, from me!”
  • “I can’t believe they’re making us get together.”
  • “It’s crazy, isn’t it? Two complete strangers who know nothing about each other being brought together like this.”
  • “The moment I saw you, I knew we were meant to be.”
  • “I know it’s already been arranged, but let me do this properly…Will you marry me?”
  • “All right, all right! If you’re so against it, then we can work together to sabotage our own wedding!”
  • “If I don’t win your heart in a month we can call off the wedding.”
  • “You are mine now. Don’t look at anyone else.”
  • “Don’t cry. I promise I will love you and protect you to the best of my ability, til death do we part.”
  • “I have loved the idea of you since before you were even born.”
  • “ have been eagerly awaiting the day I could finally meet you…and I am not disappointed. You are beautiful.”
  • “I don’t think this is going to work out. It’s a mistake to go through with this.”
Free Styling 101: Unexpected Suggestions for Where You Should Go and How You Should Dress if You’ve Never Free Styled Before

     We’ve done it, best friend. We have agreed that free styling is the way to go. But if you are anything like me, you’ve known that there was a good argument to free style. You’ve read the posts that say to put on the best clothes you have and to just go out there and do it. Men will knock you over if you just dress up and go to the best bar in town. If you’re anything like me, you read each of those posts and then hopped right back on SA after rolling your eyes. Go free style they say. But there has to be so much more to it right?

     There isn’t. Now, wait a minute. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I don’t like those posts that feel like they’re just trying to throw us to the wolves, but there are some things that they got right. The most important one? 


To learn how to do anything, you’ve got to get out there and do it. 


     Duh. Simple but challenging advice. I’m going to suggest that you free style in a new way. But before we address the new way of doing things, let’s address the problem. Why don’t we free style?

     I think the problem can be answered with one simple phrase: fear of the unknown. That’s silly. One of two things will happen. You’ll meet someone and exchange numbers or you won’t. But let’s get specific. I think we always wonder where we should go, what we should wear, and how we should act. 


Where should you go the first time you free style? Some place you’re already familiar with. 


     Odd advice, I know. But have you ever gone to a restaurant or bar or where ever and been so uncomfortable and felt so out of place that the only thing you could think about was how long it was going to take for someone to recognize you were a fraud and kick you out? How good were you at freestyling that night? 

     Go where you’re comfortable. I don’t care if it’s a local dive bar or college hang out or it’s TGIFridays. Actually, I’d love it if you did go to the TGIFridays in the sort of suburban kind of affluent part of your city. The most interesting people hang out there. 

    Why should you go to a familiar place? Because then you won’t have to stress about what to wear, who will be there, what you should order, how you should behave. You’ve been to this place dozens of times. There’s nothing to think about. Nothing to be nervous about. You can go in with confidence. 


What should you wear? Well, that’s the beauty of starting in your comfort zone. 


What do you usually wear to this place? I don’t care what you wear as long as it’s not ratty sweats and a tee, but even that’s a lie. You can make ratty sweats and a tee super cute with the right accessories. At least, that’s what I tell myself when I leave the house in them. The most important things are your hair and makeup. But Shea, I’m not good at doing my hair or makeup, you say. Well, best friend, that’s why the ancestors helped us create YouTube. The trick is to master the basics. Learn how to apply foundation, put on blush, and maybe some lipstick if you’re feeling fancy. Learn a 20-minute hairstyle that you can’t possibly mess up. The less you do, the less likely you are to look crazy. 


                                         How should you act?


Like yourself. I could point you towards the women who have taken the time to write, in great detail, what you should say to a man that approaches you. But I have several problems with these scripts. The first is these scripts work for them, but you aren’t them. The second is what if the unsuspecting man deviates from the script (which he will)? What will you do when the training wheels are off? What will you do if, in your nervousness, you forget what you’re supposed to say (you will forget)? The third and most important is that pretending to be anyone besides the gorgeous person you are is both an insult to yourself and a supreme waste of your time. Don’t do it. Be you. It is exhausting to be anyone else and will make you look stilted and awkward. Be you. Everyone else is taken. 


             What do you do if a man approaches you?


Unless he’s chocolate wasted or belligerent, you talk to him. He’ll say something to start the conversation. You’ll say something back to keep it going (can’t think of anything to say? check this out) and a conversation will begin. Do you need to be attracted to him? Does he need to be rich? Does he need to be SD potential? No. No. And no. This is target practice best friend. We are not at all invested in whether you meet your SD in a dive bar. In fact, we are already positive that it won’t happen. The point is to sharpen your skills, to get you used to going out with the sole intention of attracting and maintaining the attention of men for as long as you desire. If he approaches, talk to him. You’ll find out what he does for a living. He’ll discover the same about you. Blahblahblah. You get ready to leave. You give the man your sugar phone number.


                                                  Then what?


Then you text him. For a week. Some of you have started pouting. Best friend, I’m sorry. I know some Tumblr blog told you that you’re supposed to be making money on every date you go on every single time you leave your house. I used to think that too, pumpkin. I want you to leave that idea alone. I want you to remember that you’ve had training for every job you’ve ever done and it’s the reason why you could do that job with confidence. This is training. You have one week to get this man to ask you to dinner at a restaurant that you find acceptable given his income (which you should have googled. He did give you his occupation). If you can’t accomplish that, dump him and get back in the bars and find another victim to practice on. If he does agree to dinner in an appropriate location, remember that post on figuring out if he’s cheap? Time to practice that too. At the end of the date, you should know if he’s a cheap or not. 

     What do you do with them when the date is over? That’s up to you. If you like him but still want to sugar you have two options. Keep dating him but don’t let it get so pressing that you lose sight of your sugaring goals. Or you can dump him and move on to the next victim (if you get caught up in love and relationships and feelings easily then this is how you want to go). Tell him you had an amazing time but you don’t think the two of you are the best fit for each other. Done. On to the next.


            What do you do if no one approaches you?


This may happen. The first time I free styled I sat at the bar and realized it was couples night. Great. I had two options. I could wallow in my sorrows, and my gin and tonic or I could pick my ass up and go somewhere else. I chose option two and met a very nice man whose family owned a local snack company. But there’s a chance that you’ll go to location two and no one will talk to you there either. There’s a chance. So you go home, and you restrategize. You figure out if it was you. Were you on your phone all night avoiding eye contact? Did you make eye contact and then quickly drop it thinking this made you look coy and cute (it doesn’t. if you make eye contact hold it for at least five seconds before looking away)? You figure out if it was the location or just an off night. These will happen. You’ll have a lot of them. I hope you have a lot of them. They will be how you learn. They will show you how badly you want this life or if you want it at all. I hope no one approaches you at first. If you give up at the first obstacle, you don’t deserve to win. It sounds mean, best friend, I know. But failure has been my best teacher. It has shown me what I really want and what I really like to talk about. Besides, this is just training remember? We didn’t expect to meet our future SD in TGIFridays.

Best friend, what do you think? Is this a free styling plan that you can get behind until you build your confidence or have I lost my natural mind? Tell me your thoughts and your plans. Let’s talk!

anonymous asked:

can you do 18 please? love your work xx

18. If you insist. 

Victor spun in slow circles on the ice, steel of his skates tearing lines through it. He should be focusing, but Victor found his mind constantly wandering to the weekend before. To the party. To Yuuri and his wide, dark eyes that haunted Victor’s sleep ever since that night.

Victor had been more than foolish; he’d apparently stepped right through the veil of insanity to say such a thing to Yuuri then. What had he been thinking? Victor had just been struck, so lost in the memory of when they had met first that he had lost all sense. Friedrich said himself that Yuuri’s beauty inspired transgression, but Victor was sure confessions of affection to his betrothed were outside the Tsarevich’s allowance.

After that night, Victor half-expected his door to be beaten down by the police. For him to be dragged through town, name with him, as Yuuri was bound to tell his betrothed of Victor’s audacity. But nothing had come, Friedrich bidding Victor fond goodbye from the party when Victor excused himself early after spending the rest of the evening watching Yuuri’s back retreat from him.

It seemed Yuuri was of a mind to simply dismiss Victor altogether as punishment and Victor was not entirely sure if that was better. He had tried to rid himself of the ache in his heart that burst on seeing Yuuri, the ghost of an emotion that skimmed the faded edges of grief for something Victor was never entitled to have to begin with. Not even the ice was any comfort.

‘Victor!’ Chris cried, sounding panicked and his voice echoing off the high ceiling of the rink. Victor turned to a stop, regarding his friend and pianist from the ice show with confusion. ‘Get off the ice, right now!’

‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Victor asked, skating up to the small gate off the ice. Chris looked wild behind his round spectacles, mouth hopping between a dazed grin and grimace, running a hand through his sandy hair.

‘The Tsarevich’s consort is here to see you,’ Chris said, sounding half-mad with it. Victor froze in where he was brushing ice from his steel, a swallowing swoop in his stomach. When Victor asked Chris to explain, Chris only shrugged; ‘He wouldn’t say why he’s here. Only that he wished to speak with you.’

‘Did he bring a guard?’ Victor asked, wondering if perhaps having Yuuri ignore him and not ending up in prison was really so unfortunate a situation, heartbreak or not. Chris frowned.

‘No, he’s escorted himself. Why? Does he need a guard?’ Chris asked, but Victor was already off the ice, walking as straight he could in his skates towards the foyer. 

Yuuri was there, dressed in the Vienna fashion this time. He was in a long coat of dark wool, large hood like a bell from where it was raised over Yuuri’s head. Had he not announced himself, Victor was sure Yuuri could’ve passed through the rink entirely unseen, with only the fine fabric of his coat giving away his status.

Yuuri turned, hands in front of him in perfect posture. The gloves he wore were fine leather, showing off his slim fingers and Victor found himself staring before he could stop himself, reminded of the large ones he’d gifted almost ten years ago. Suddenly feeling under-dressed in his loose shirt and plain trousers, Victor bent low in a bow.

‘Your grace,’ Victor said, wondering if he should wait until he was addressed before straightening up.

When Yuuri said nothing, Victor took a chance and looked up. Yuuri was regarding Victor from beneath his hood, a pair of modern spectacles sat on his nose. They were fetching, a blue veneer across their fine frames. Victor licked his lips, daring to speak.

‘Please forgive me for speaking out of turn,’ Victor said, watching Yuuri’s face indulgently. ‘I don’t know why you’re here, but I must tell you I am pleased to see you again.’

Yuuri visibly tensed at that, his hands balling into delicate fists. He regarded Victor carefully, like Yuuri were poised to take flight any moment. Victor felt like there was suddenly a string pulled taut between them, like a vector. Victor mentally berated himself for managing to offend so quickly. That had to be a new record.

‘I got your letter,’ Yuuri said brusquely, standing tall like he were to shake the tension off his shoulders. Victor was caught off guard by the lack of manners, but something like relief pooled. ‘You needn’t have apologised.’

Victor blinked, surprised. He had sent the letter the morning after the party, convinced to try and make up for what he had said. Victor had kept it deliberately oblique, so as not to incriminate himself or worse, insinuate towards Yuuri. Victor never expected a reply, he had just felt that he could not rest easy unless Yuuri knew that he was sorry. And now that letter had brought Yuuri all the way down from the visitor’s palace to Victor’s humble rink.

‘Forgive me, but that was not impression I got,’ Victor said, feeling daring though he knew it was improper. Yuuri frowned, mouth opening to retort. ‘After my indiscretion on the balcony, you gave me no chance to apologise and avoided me the whole evening like I were the plague.’

‘I was not in the mood to be teased,’ Yuuri said coldly and Victor looked away, ashamed. ‘I think that can be allowed given the extent you went to in trying to mock me.’

‘That was not my intention,’ Victor said firmly.

‘Pray tell me then, what was your intention?’ Yuuri asked, eyes fixed on Victor from behind his spectacles. ‘What else did you expect of such a joke?’

‘It was not a joke,’ Victor said, rising up to meet Yuuri eye to eye. Taking advantage of his height over Yuuri’s small build.

For a moment, Victor thought Yuuri might retreat from where he was standing, back down into demurity. But Yuuri only narrowed his eyes, pulling his gloves off in a manner of argument and looking resolute. Victor took advantage, as he clearly had Yuuri’s interest.

‘Not entirely, anyway. I only meant to tell you that I have thought of our meeting in Saint Petersburg often, perhaps even to the point of lovesickness as a young man. I did not mean to imply anything adverse. I just wished to humour you if I could, you were so despondent.’

‘Then you admit it was a tease,’ Yuuri said coolly and Victor flushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Of a sorts,’ Victor sighed, ashamed. He looked up to Yuuri, taking in the way Yuuri gripped his fine gloves so tight, Yuuri’s knuckles were pale. Victor must’ve caused great offence. ‘But I promise you, it was a jest at my own expense and not an attempt to discomfort you.’

‘So you are not in love with me?’ Yuuri asked, tone almost sarcastic if his manners would allow it. It gave Victor the impression he might be close to being forgiven.

‘No more than the rest of Russia, I’m sure,’ Victor said, heart leaping when Yuuri’s cheeks coloured. Victor tried to appear cool in response, but he’d never been able to manage such a thing when his heart was so treacherously light in his chest.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Yuuri said, bowing low like he had that evening at the ball. ‘Thank you for your apology, Mister Nikiforov. I’ll let you return to your practice.’

Yuuri went to leave and Victor panicked suddenly, not wanting Yuuri to go without the promise of seeing him again. He could not bear to lose him twice.

‘Allow me to make up for the transgression,’ Victor pleaded, desperation so clear in his voice it must’ve been what caused Yuuri to stop so suddenly.

Yuuri turned, looking at Victor with undisguised suspicion. When he spoke, his voice was carefully level; ‘How would you have me do that?’

‘Did you ever learn how to skate?’ Victor asked, pleased when Yuuri shook his head. Victor opened an arm behind himself, towards the rink entrance. ‘Then grant me the opportunity to teach you. If only once.’

Yuuri was remarkably well mannered, hiding his surprise well. But his cheeks coloured, eyes wide on Victor’s face that most endearingly gave him away.

‘You would teach me?’ Yuuri asked, eyes flirting down to take in the steel of Victor’s skates. ‘You would really do that?’

‘Without doubt.’

‘I don’t want you to feel obligated,’ Yuuri said, looking wary again. ‘I meant what I said that you are forgiven. You owe the crown nothing.’

‘I do not care so much for the Japanese court and even less for the Russian one, Your Grace,’ Victor said sincerely. ‘ I would not offer unless it was my own desire to do so.’

Victor walked up towards Yuuri, closing the space between them. Victor couldn’t help himself. There was a gravity around Yuuri that pulled at Victor, something more than just beauty lurking in his eyes. A spark of interest that had been there since childhood, Victor thought.

When Yuuri had still said nothing, Victor then offered a hand out for Yuuri to shake. A gentlemen’s agreement, if Yuuri would accept. Yuuri hesitated for a moment, eyes fixed on Victor’s outstretched hand. Then, slowly, Yuuri reached out and took it. His hand was warm and it had Victor’s skin tingling.

Yuuri looked away from Victor’s face, voice low and endearing in Victor’s ear; ‘I must tell you something, Mister Nikiforov.’

‘You have my full attention,’ Victor said honestly, instantly regretful when Yuuri pulled his hand away.

‘I’ve followed your career for years,’ Yuuri said quietly, eyes still downcast. ‘You were so impressive and I was- I am, so in awe of your talent. I saw your show Aria in Geneva, almost two years ago to the day now.’

‘You were in Geneva?’ Victor asked, surprised. Yuuri looked up, spectacles catching the light like coins. ‘I never saw you. You should’ve sent me a letter, I would’ve made sure we met.’

‘I was afraid you would not remember me,’ Yuuri said, twisting his gloves. ‘I did not want to impose myself upon you or have you feel any kind of obligation, just because of my association.’

‘Yuuri,’ Victor said gently, reaching out to touch Yuuri’s elbow. Yuuri started, blushing brightly from Victor’s use of his name no doubt. Victor had never been one for manners. ‘I would have been so happy to see you then. I’m only sorry that we’ve lost time together.’

Yuuri licked his lips and Victor’s heart stumbled over itself to try and commit the action to memory.

‘Please,’ Victor said earnestly, barely containing himself from reaching out again. ‘Let me not just make up for my words, but also up for the time we’ve lost these years.’

Yuuri’s eyes roamed over Victor’s face- perhaps wary of further teasing. But Victor had never meant anything as truly as he meant this offer.

Yuuri smiled, a shy thing that settled something warm in Victor’s stomach.

‘If you insist.’

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