#does charles like to be surrounded by men who are so unattractive that he (charles) will look Even More Beautiful than usual?? hmm

[singsweetmelodies]

thats charles' trainer, andrea ferrari w him on the pic ;) but yea the caption is ON POINT omg :D

oh my god i'm so sorry bahahahaha 🤣🤣🤣😭 i keep forgetting who in charles' entourage is who, bcs to be perfectly honest with you, they all look a bit the same (not as pretty as charles 😔)

[pinkoptics]

AU-gust 2021 Prompts

3. Hipsters / 16. Hippies

Erik detests hipsters and hippies and, to be honest, isn’t even sure what the difference is, nor does he particularly care. The things he will do for Charles…

Modern AU. Still have powers. Grumpy Erik. Adorable Charles. Meet Cute. Silliness.

3392 Words

*

Erik hated everything about this place.

Absolutely everything.

He could write a dissertation on its failings, which were abundant.

Its first sin was being directly across from his apartment building. When he looked out his window, he saw it. When he stepped out of the lobby doors, he saw it. When he pulled his car out of the parking garage, he saw it. It was an unavoidable part of every single day of his life.

Its second sin was what it had replaced. Previously, there had been a diner. A kosher diner. A diner that had tasted like his childhood. It had been a hole in the wall, never looked quite clean, but the coffee had been strong enough to caffeinate an elephant and the food almost as good as his mama’s. Most people had passed it by. Just another slightly dingy New York eatery that you didn’t give a second thought. Quiet. A refuge for those in the know. Then came the hipster gentrification, ruining not only his precious diner, but the neighbourhood in general.

Its third sin was its name. Plant. In and of itself the name ‘Plant’ was harmless, inoffensive. Just a word. It conjured images of a vegan eatery, bistro, restaurant, or maybe if taken 100% literally, a store that sold plants. All of which would have been fine. He had nothing against plants and, sure, he ate meat (kosher meat), but happily ate vegetarian dishes as well. But no, it was not a plant store or even a vegan eatery, it was a vegan coffeehouse. Coffee came from plants, Erik knew this, so the name passed on that technicality, but it did not scream ‘coffee.’ Why not ‘Bean’ if it needed to conform to the trendy one-word-naming that had for reasons unknown come with the gentrification. It was couched between ‘Table’ (a restaurant) and ‘Sweat’ (a boutique gym). Plant did not equal coffee, and that knowledge crawled under his skin every time he saw the stylized lettering.

Its fourth sin was the coffee. Erik wasn’t particularly picky about his brew, whether at home or out. Cheap diner swill, the finest Italian espresso, the Keurig at the office, the ridiculously expensive machine that produced the perfect cappuccino at Emma’s apartment, whatever. Plant’s beans were fine as beans went, the roast satisfactory, but then ruined with its accompaniments. They carried a variety of ‘mylks.’ Yes, with a ‘y’. He preferred lattes, and would have been fine with oat or almond— if only it was spelled with a fucking ‘i’. Every time he saw the pretentious letter, he felt the urge to take a sharpie and commit as many acts of misdemeanour graffiti as necessary until all the ‘y’s were gone.

Its fifth sin was its staff. He could have tolerated their always sunny dispositions (even if it were literally impossible for any customer service employee to be that happy all the time). He could have tolerated their ridiculous hipster (or was it hippy?) apparel, moustaches, beards and hairstyles (what was even the difference between the two?). What he could not handle was the way they called him ‘friend.’ Every. Single. Time. He could count his friends on one hand and none of them worked at Plant. Their ‘peace, love and joy’ vibe made him grind his teeth and wish he had a mutation that would allow him to send them back to the 1960s.

And yet…

“Good morning friend! Amazing day, right?” It was, in fact, pouring so hard the streets were borderline flooding. “Usual? Or do you want to try—”

Erik had long ago learned to immediately tune out the suggestions, but was sure he caught the word ‘sage.’ Who in their right fucking mind wanted sage in their coffee? Yes, he was inside the loathed establishment wasting precious brain cells wondering why anyone felt the need to mess with the simple perfection that was coffee and milk. Yes, he was there often enough that the employees knew him on sight. Yes, he had a usual order.

It wasn’t his fault.

It really wasn’t.

It was the fault of a pair of the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

This shouldn’t have been the case. The whole thing was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. The entire story more at home on the W Network or Hallmark, than in his very real, not-a-rom-com, life. And yet, here he was, having his 24th latte with mylk in a row and questioning his very sanity.

It had all started, just over a month ago, directly in front of Plant. To this day, Erik wasn’t sure whose fault it had been. He’d been on his phone, eviscerating a junior partner for a monstrous fuck up, and so livid that he was not at all paying attention to his surroundings. The blue-eyed man he’d run into, however, had claimed equal distraction, so perhaps the blame rested on both of their shoulders.

They had crashed into each other— papers flew, his phone flipped through the air and they ended up in a heap on the sidewalk, Erik atop the smaller frame beneath him. Already late for work, already pissed off with the junior partner beyond reason, Erik had been ready to re-direct his anger and tear whoever it was a new one, when the aforementioned blue eyes had arrested the words in his throat. He had admitted this to no one. Hell, he barely admitted it in the sanctity of his own mind because he was not a 12 year old girl, but a senior partner in one of the most prestigious architecture firms in New York. He did not go soft over a pair of gorgeous eyes (except, apparently, that he did), particularly when he hadn’t even seen the face that went with the eyes, which could have been grotesquely unattractive (it wasn’t).

The mouth that went with the eyes was absurdly red and absurdly kissable. The face angelic. To his eternal, internal embarrassment he had thought that exact word— angelic. He wished he could have blamed his temporary insanity on hitting his head, but having fallen on top, he couldn’t. If anyone had a concussion it was the ocean-eyed, ruby-lipped angel man. The ruby lips had spluttered apologies in a gorgeous British accent (not something Erik had until now found to be a turn on) as they scrambled off each other, righting clothes and belongings.

“Your phone!” the man had moaned. “Is it all right?”

The screen did appear to have a crack, but in another moment of lunacy, Erik pocketed it before the Angel could see and muttered something about it being fine. Instead, Erik helped him to collect the papers that had fluttered every which way, including the road, where they were already being demolished by a steady stream of vehicles.

“I hope those weren’t important.”

The man laughed, it was a very nice sound. “Not as such, no. I’m sure my students will be delighted to hear that their papers were torn asunder. They already mock me for printing them at all. I could mark them on my laptop like a proper 21st century individual, but there’s something about the feel of paper and pen that I just cannot let go of. It’s— and, as I go on and see your expression, I realize a simple ‘no’ likely would have sufficed.”

What did he see in Erik’s expression? A man besotted? Enamoured? Smitten? Any other number of words he had never used in regard to himself or anyone else in his entire life? Fuck. Erik tried to school has face into its usual disdain for the world and ninety-nine percent of the people in it, but if he was as in control of his facial muscles as he was of his thoughts, he knew he was failing miserably.

Erik handed him the last of the papers they could possibly retrieve. “I agree— about the pen and paper, I mean.” He did. As incredible as design software was these days, he always started on paper. The precision needed to draw the perfect straight lines and angles of a new building gave him a feeling of immense satisfaction in a way little else did.

“Oh, well, glad I’m not the only one who hasn’t forsaken the old ways.”

His smile.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Erik cleared his throat. “Let me buy you a coffee.”

Had he just said that?

Traitorous voice.

Was he gesturing at Plant?

Traitorous body.

He’d never been inside. On principle. Apparently, principle flew out the window for charming British men with cornflower (cornflower?!) blue eyes. The man blinked those eyes, as though not expecting the kindness.

Erik gestured at the papers. “I’ve clearly set your work back and I’ve ruined your—” cardigan. Erik blinked as his clothes came into focus. The man he was suddenly, desperately, attracted to was wearing a baggy, grandpa cardigan. Erik began to wonder if he had never woken up that morning. Maybe he was still in bed, across the street. Maybe this was a fever dream.

“Oh! I’ve dozens more just like it. It’s nothing.” He swatted ineffectually at the dirt covering one sleeve.

“Please.”

The man cocked his head. “Well… all right.”

So Erik had. In the end it had been a tea, not coffee. Earl grey with mylk. The interaction had ended there, awkwardly. Most likely his own fault. He didn’t do flirting with random strangers he’d just plowed into on the street. He didn’t generally do flirting at all. Moreover, he was now very late and had the junior partner’s fuck ups to fix before this afternoon’s meeting with their client. So, he’d left, stumbling over his goodbyes.

The day that followed hadn’t afforded much opportunity to think on the chance encounter. Not with employees to castrate and clients to placate. It wasn’t until he was home, looking out the bank of front windows at Plant that his thoughts drifted back to Blue Eyes. Which was, unfortunately, what he had christened him in his head because he’d never gotten the man’s name. Erik had gone to bed, mind clouded with thoughts, dreamt of him, and woken up with those same thoughts. Emma had always said his was one of the most disciplined minds she had ever encountered.

So much for that.

It was only a complete loss of that discipline that could possibly explain why he’d unnecessarily crossed the street the next morning and entered the obnoxious establishment for a second time, without even a moment’s hesitation. His eyes had immediately scanned for a mop of just overlong brown hair (yes, he’d noted that too, as well as just how much he wanted to run his hands through it). When they’d landed upon said hair, curling delightfully upon Blue Eyes’ forehead, Erik had been genuinely surprised. This clearly made the man a Plant regular, which should have been a point against him �� a massive point — yet here Erik was, seeking him out regardless. Blue Eyes had looked up at him then, gifting him with a smile and acknowledging him with a nod, before returning to a set of what Erik had to guess were re-printed term papers.

Such was the story of how Erik had become a regular customer with a regular order.

Most days Blue Eyes was there before he came in, sometimes working on laptop or in a notebook, other times reading a book or a journal. Erik had caught a title once — The Oxford Journal of Genetics — which led him to conclude, that along with clearly being a professor, this proved the man must have a brain to back up the looks. Another point in his favour, as Erik had no patience for stupidity, no matter how pretty a package it came in.

Erik’s day was such that he usually needed to take his order to go. The few days where he could scrape together a few extra minutes, he grabbed his own table. He hadn’t once attempted to kid himself that it was because he enjoyed the ambience— that level of denial would have been absurd. No, it was clearly so he could spend a few extra minutes trying to stare, in a way that wasn’t blatantly obvious, at his… crush. Crush. He might as well think the word because that’s what it was. Only days after meeting him, Erik had caught himself, pen poised, about to doodle hearts on his notepad at a meeting. The mental pinch and knowing look Emma had sent his way had made him extra testy for the rest of the day. The wide berth everyone but Emma had given him was a testament to that.

And yet…

He never approached Blue Eyes. They exchanged nods, occasional hellos, but never anything more. Out of all of his out of character behaviour — and there was a lot of it at this point — this rattled him most. Erik had a reputation in professional and personal circles. He was confident, forbidding, occasionally arrogant, and brazen in pursuing designs no one else thought possible to execute. Erik went after what he wanted in life with borderline fanaticism.

He did not sit and observe from afar, mentally warring with himself, while also berating himself, for not having the balls to ask to join him, or buy him another tea, or inquire as to what he was reading. There were any number of conversational openings, but 24th latte in, he still hadn’t taken any of them. With each passing day the side of him that decided against it (or ‘chickened out’ as the nastier part of his mind supplied) became stronger and stronger. Blue Eyes hadn’t engaged with him either. Maybe he wasn’t gay. Maybe Erik wasn’t his type. Maybe he was already in a relationship. The chances that he was being just as melodramatic as Erik was being in his own head seemed slim. So, Erik continued to act foolish — alternately wondering how long he would continue to do so and how good a kisser Blue Eyes might be with lips like that.

It was on latte #26 that everything changed— no thanks to Erik.

He had decided to sit at a table that day and engage in his usual ‘I’m staring but I’m not staring’ routine. He was in the ‘not-staring’ portion, scrolling through his emails without really paying attention to any of them, when he was startled out of it by the chair across from him suddenly becoming occupied.

Blue Eyes.

“I can’t take it anymore.”

“Wha—”

“You come in here every day. Every day. Sometimes you stay, sometimes you don’t. It’s baffling because there is one thing I know for certain— you hate it here. No, you loathe it. And, there are literally dozens of other coffee houses within walking distance. You clearly don’t belong—” Blue Eyes gestured up and down at what was likely Erik’s three piece suit, then at Plant in general, where there wasn’t a single person so much as sporting dress pants. Erik counted at least two man buns, one head of dreadlocks and a form of baggy pants Erik didn’t even have a name for. “—and I am fascinated by things that don’t belong. Things that don’t make sense. Puzzles. You don’t make sense. There is no way the coffee is that good. And yet, here you are. Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Charles.”

Blue Eyes — no, Charles — extended his hand across the table and, reflexively, Erik took it, shaking it gingerly.

Charles laughed. “I don’t bite. I entirely talk too much, ask anyone, but I don’t bite.”

Erik rather wished that he did.

“How did you— my suit?”

Thankfully, Charles seemed to follow his meaning. “Oh no, the suit is only corroborating evidence. As is the way you look down your nose at everything in here. It’s your mind.” Charles tapped his temple. “Telepath. I swear to you I haven’t dug any deeper than the surface swirl of utter distaste for this establishment. Then I’d know, wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t be here asking.”

Telepath. Blue E— Charles was a mutant. Erik was fairly certain his knees went a little weak. Good thing they were sitting. However… what on earth could he say? ‘I’ve essentially been stalking you’ hardly seemed like an opener that was going to get him where he wanted to be. Erik cleared his throat, buying time, as those keen eyes continued to look at him expectantly. While Erik wasn’t verbose, he also never found himself at a loss for words, except for here and now, where the truth was exceptionally embarrassing.

His pause, it seemed, went on too long because Charles jumped back into the fray. “Good lord, I’ve ambushed you, haven’t I? Clearly, you don’t have to answer the mad man who mowed you down on the sidewalk and then ambushed the peaceful solitude of your morning coffee. I apologize and will bugger right off if you tell me to. However, if it helps any, I don’t like it here either. It’s trying too bloody hard to be ‘on trend,’ isn’t it? For a cultural subset who pride themselves on not being pretentious they’ve entirely failed, haven’t they? And, I’m English, I know pretentious.” He laughed self-depreciatingly at that.

A beat for his mind to catch up to the second verbal barrage and Erik finally had a response. “If you like it as little as I do, then why are you here?”

Charles’ mouth formed a perfect little ‘o’ of surprise. He scratched the back of his neck and, for a moment, looked everywhere but Erik. “Blast. I’m caught, aren’t I?”

His cheeks reddened adorably. Since when did Erik find anything adorable? Since now, apparently. This man broke all of his rules.

Charles gave an adorable (christ) little shrug of his shoulders. “I suppose I best come clean.” He looked Erik squarely in the eye. “You’re gorgeous. You bought me tea. I came back thinking I’d ask you out. But you’re so… I lost my nerve. Have been doing the same daily ever since.”

“I’m so… ?”

The cheeks reddened further.

“Entirely too gorgeous for me.” Charles gestured at today’s grandfatherly cardigan. “Besides that—”

“You’re perfect.”

Fucking hell. When had his mind decided to say things without his permission?

It produced another, adorable, surprised little ‘o’. “I’m sorry— What?”

In for a penny…

“I had never set foot in Plant before we crashed into each other. Never would have because I do hate everything about it. Everything except you, who I thought were a regular—”

“I thought you were a regular.”

“— and wanted to ask you out.”

“I’d never been here before ei— you wanted to ask me out?”

They stopped, collective words sinking into respective minds.

Charles threw his head back, laughing. “If I didn’t know better—“ He tapped his temple again. “— I’d think you’re having me on.”

His laughter was infectious and Erik found he was smiling despite himself. He gave his own little shrug. “I don’t lie.”

“No, you don’t, do you? I can’t believe we both—”

“Me either.”

“This is too much. Wait… Why are we still here?”

“I’m sorry?”

Charles leaned forward and plucked Erik’s latte with oat mylk from his hand. “Can I buy you a coffee? A real coffee? Where they know how to spell the word milk? At the cafe I actually frequented before I began co-starring with you in a romcom so terrible my sister wouldn’t even watch it?”

He was already standing up, as if assured Erik would say yes, which every single bone in his body was blaring loudly for him to do. It didn’t seem to matter to any part of him that he would be blowing off work, a thought he discarded as quickly as it appeared. Just another out of character thing to add to the list. He followed. “I’m Erik, by the way.”

Charles looked back, as he collected his belongings, and grinned sheepishly. “I know.”

That was the last time Erik set foot in Plant until exactly a year later. He ordered latte #27 with Blue-Eyed Charles on his arm, after having crossed the street from their apartment, to celebrate their first anniversary. As Charles smiled at him over his Earl Gray with mylk, Erik found he couldn’t quite hate the damned coffee shop as much as he had before.

[simplysnipes]

Considerations for Black Men

Improve Your Self-Image

How Many of Us Do Not Achieve More, Because We Believe We Deserve Less? How Many of Us Do Not Ask For That Raise or Managerial Position We Deserve Because We Are Worried That We Will Fail. How Many of Us Do Not Get Out of That Bad Relationship Because We Do Not Think We Can’t Attract The Women We Want. How Many of Us Do Not Stand Up For Ourselves When We Are Aware of Situations & People That Use Our Talents But Do Not Reciprocate Equally.

All of Us.

Let’s Start To Reprogram The Ideas That We Have of Ourselves. The Limits We Subconsciously Place On Ourselves. Destroy The Thoughts of People In The Past That Discouraged You or That Girl Who Called You Ugly In Middle School [FCUK YOU MEGAN!!]. Or The Society That Tells You Because You Are A “Black Male,” You Are Prone To Criminality, High Blood Pressure, Laziness & Toxic Masculinity.

Let’s Destroy It All. Because “The Enemy” Wins If We Destroy Ourselves For Them.

Say Less

“You Have Two Ears & One Mouth. Use Them Proportionately”

You Will Be Amazed At What You Learn When You Sit Back & Observe When You Are Interacting With People. Next Time You Are In A Conversation, Don’t Wait For Your Turn To Speak. Ingest What The Other Person Is Actually Saying. Refrain From Dominating The Talking Space. Allow Others To Voice Their Opinions First & Then Retort.

Find Your Purpose

Are You Dissatisfied? Do You Have A Feeling of Stagnation In Your Life? Do You Constantly Feel Stressed, Lost, Confused & Depressed? Would You Like A Different Job? More Money? A Better Physique or A Lover That You Feel Complements You? Finding Your Life‘s Purpose Will Solve All of That And More.

Since We Live In A Capitalist System That Requires You To Slave.. I Mean Work To Live. Your Purpose Should Consist of What You Love. It Can Also Be A Thing That You Would Like To Monetize. The Reason Why You Should Create An Industry Based On What You Love Instead of What You Would Tolerate As A Career Is Because The Average Person Spends About 2,000 Hours Per Year At A Job They Hate. But If You Love What You Do. Most Days It Will Be Pleasure To Work Than A Pain. And Where Love Resides. Money, Creativity, Wonderful Experiences & Amazing People Will Be Waiting.

Simplify Your Life

A Lot of Us Have Too Many Things That Require Our Attention. The More Things That Your Mind Is Attached Too. The Less You Will Be Able To Think Clearly & Be At Peace. The Key Is To Prioritize Things By Importance: [1] What Is Adding Value To My Life/ Happiness. [2] What Detracts Value From My Life/ Happiness.

Live With Purpose

No More Meandering Around Aimlessly Throughout Life, Allowing Things To Happen To You, Instead of For You. In Order To Create An Existence Full of Substance. It Is Great Idea To Move, Act And Think In An Organized Fashion. The Change Does Not Have To Be Radical. It Can Be As Simple As Writing A Short List of Things You Would Like To Achieve. Then Writing Small Daily Goals That Are Needed For Its Attainment.

Acquiring A Harmonious Masculine Spirit

A Man With A Harmonious Masculine Spirit Believes In Justice. This Is A Man Who Is In Harmony With Himself, His Environment, His Woman & Other Men In His Tribe. A Man With A Harmonious Spirit Will Not Start Unnecessary Turmoil With People But Will Have The Courage To Stand Up For His Ideals And Come To Blows If Necessary. A Man With A Harmonious Spirits Uses Logic To Solve His Issues & Is Not Easily Influenced By The Opinions of Others. 

A Man With A Harmonious Spirit Does Not Make Excuses, But Does Whatever He Can To Provide & Protect His Family At All Costs. A Man With A Harmonious Spirit Will Seek Council With His Feminine Counterpart. Though He May Not Take Her Advice. He Will Let Her Know That Her Thoughts And Contributions Are Valuable To Him. A Man Was A Harmonious Spirit Will Not Bring Shame To Himself His Family Name And Especially His Woman.

Stop Making Excuses

“Action Cures Insecurity”

There Is Nothing More Unattractive Than A Man Who Constantly Creates Excuses For Why His Life Is A Certain Way. With The Availability of Resources, Information And Relatively Inexpensive Labor. A Man Can Achieve Anything He So Desires If He Is Brave Enough To Risk It All To Achieve It.

The God Force Does Not Bless Those Who Will Not Help Themselves. Making Excuses & Complaining About Where You Are Disrupts Your Internal Light & Sends Negative Signals To Your Subconscious Mind That You Are In Fact A Loser And Not A Warrior. That Mentality Sabotages Good Things From Coming To You And Also Good People From Wanting To Collaborate With You.

Save Time, Money & Resources

“Man Makes The Money. Money Does Not Make The Man”

Money Is Not Real. Money Does Not Define You. Money Cannot Make You Happy. Money Is Essentially A Tool For Survival. And With That Knowledge You Can Assess Your Attachment To It And Choose To Either Chase It In A Hectic Fashion. Or Earn It Wisely And Let It Chase You.

“A Man Who Dares To Waste One Hour of Time Has Not Discovered The Value of Life.” - Charles Darwin

Time Is Significant Because It Only Goes In One Direction. Forward. Time In Relation To Man Is Important Because We Will Not Live Forever. So We Must Make Great Use of The Time That We Have. We May Feel As Though There Is Not Enough Hours In A Day To Get What We Need Accomplished. But Guess What!! Everyone Has The Same 24 Hours To Operate In. So It Is Imperative That We Use Our Time Wisely. If You Track Your Daily Habits Hour To Hour. Within A Week I Guarantee You Can Find At Least 20 Hours of Dead Space Where You Are Not Occupying It With Any Meaningful Acts.

“There Is Nothing You Need That You Do Not Already Have” - James Baldwin

A Debilitating Mentality That A Lot of Us Men Have Adopted Is Waiting For Someone or Something Outside of Our Own Ability To Aid Us Before We Take Any Action Toward A Goal. Let’s Take Fitness For Example. I Know You Have Probably Heard (Or Said) “I Wish I Had A Car, Or Lived Close To A Gym. Because Then I Would Be In Shape.” Fitness First Starts In The Mind. A Lack of Resources Is Rarely The Problem. A Strong Creative Mind Could Create Opportunities To Figure Out Ways To Get What You Desire. “The Ultimate Resource Is Resourcefulness.”

Work With What You Already Have

When A Man Is In A Righteous State of Mind. He Is Hellbent On Self-Improvement & The Improvement of His Surroundings. But As We Are Improving. We Tend To Look At The Achievements of “Better Men” And We Make Unfair Comparisons of Where We Are In Life.

This Act Is Unfair And Counterproductive Is Because Not Every Man Gets The Same Breaks. The Lord Blesses Each One of Us With A Specific Skill, Attribute, And Set of Circumstances That Is Unique To Our Spirit. With The Intent of It Growing Us In Ways That Will Help Our Family And Our Environment At Large.

So Instead of Looking Externally At What Others Are Great In & Where You “Think” You Are Lacking. Pay Attention To What You Are Blessed With And Improve Upon Those Strengths.

Refrain From Dealing With Toxic Women

“No Man Hath It In Gis Power To Over-Rule The Deceitfulness of A Women” -Marguerite of Navarre

We All Have Personally Experienced or Know The Story of A Brother Well On His Way To Success But Was Derailed Because He Selected The Wrong Companion In His Life. And The Key Is He! Selected The Wrong Companion. On The Road To Enlightenment, Self-Preservation & Self-Healing Adding A Woman Who Is A Liability And Not An Asset Can Cause Irreparable Damage To Your Life, Your Finance, Business & Your Reputation.

When A Righteous Man Selects A Woman. He Is A Essentially Bringing Her Into His World. Into His Lifestyle. As Men, We Are Natural Fixers. We Function As Problem Solvers And We Live To Protect Our Women From Harm. If A Woman Has A Lot of Reoccurring Negative Issues That She Brings Into The Courtship. It’s Going To Be YOUR Issue. And Your Life’s Purpose Will Be Derailed Because The Time You Should Be Spending On Your Purpose. You Will Divert It To The Problems of The Said Woman.

Righteous Masculine Energy Is Hot. Fiery. It Leads. It Directs. It Protects. It Has A Will To Improve The Wellbeing of Itself & Environment Though Its Own Will. Righteous Feminine Energy Is Cool. It Is Passive. It’s Loving. It’s Nurturing. It Has A Creative Faculty. It Enhances The Masculine Imperative. Both Energy’s Have Their Strengths. But Were Essentially Made To Complement Each Other.

In Today’s Time Due To Social Engineering, Western Liberal Media, Soy Based Diets, The Absence of Righteous Masculine & Feminine Parents. Modern Men Will Encounter Women Who Have A Higher Than Normal Amount of Masculine Energy, As Well As An Addiction To Recreational Drugs. Lack of Financial Resources & Moderate To Extreme Mental Issues. This Energy Will Inhibit A Man’s Ability Need To Lead, Act As A Companion To The Woman Common or Feel As If He Has A Place In The Woman’s Life.

(Ways Of Identifying A Damaged Woman Coming Soon)

Learn Something New Weekly

As Quickly As Technology & Techniques To Live A Better Life Are Being Created. The Ability To Consume Information & Use It Toward A Meaningful Goal Is Power. If You Are Not Constantly Learning. Your Skills Are Declining And Like The Dinosaurs You Will Inevitably Become Extinct.

Fasting

The Most Common Definition For Fasting Is: “The Willing Abstinence or Reduction From Some or All Food, Drink, or Both, For A Period of Time.” Though Rapid Consumption of Food Is An Issue For Some. There Are Other Other Habits That We Practice That Can Have Destructive Effects When Done In Excess: Binge T.V. Watching, Daily Consumption of Alcohol, Casual Sex With Multiple Partners, Daily Use of Recreational Drugs, Excessive Use of Social Media, Impulse Spending & Pornography.

Excessive Exposure To These Low Vibratory Vices Are Dangerous To The Body, Spirit & Subconscious Mind. Place A Cap On Your Daily Intake. Or Go For Long Stretches Without The Use of Them To Ensure That These Things Are Not Influencing You In a Negative Way.

Lastly

Stop Thirsting After Women!!!!!!!

Fellas In 2019 We Really Need To Stop With The Thirst. There’s Nothing More Unattractive To Women (And Men) Than A Thirsty A$$ Dude. When People See A Man Who Can Not Control His Libido. That Shows A Lack of Self Control & Maturity. I See Too Many of Us Out In The World Being Controlled By The Organ That Is Between Our Legs. We Have Bastardized Sex Into Something As Insignificant As A Physical Act, When Sexual Energy Exchange Was Created For So Much More.

The Essence of Sex Is One of, If Not The Most Powerful Tool That We Have At Our Disposal. Expressing That Sex In Immature & Toxic Ways Can Only Lead To Your Destruction. The Transmutation of Sexual Energy Toward A Purposeful Goal Can Create Civilizations.

Signs Of Thirst

-Stalking

-Sliding In Dm Unwarranted

-Sending Unsolicited D!Ck Pics

-Aggressively Engaging Females That Don’t Want To Be Approached On The Street

-Lewd & Obscene Comments On A Woman’s Social Media Profile

-ETC

Validation/ Worship of The Female Body In Those Ways Creates The Monsters That We Do Not Like To Deal With: Conceded Women, Emotionally Guarded Women, IG Models Selling Flat Belly Tea & Gold-Diggers.

In Order To Attain The Women That You Want. It Does Not Require A Lot of Money, or Material Items. You Don’t Even Have To Look Like Idris Elba. All You Have To Have Is Confidence, Social Capital And A Mouthpiece Good Enough To Hold A Basic Conversation. And Both Are Not Hard To Attain.

If You Haven Yet Noticed F$ck Boys Are Messing It Up For All of Us. There’s A Correct Way And An It Incorrect Way To Get A Woman’s Attention. There’s Too Many of Us Not Playing The Game Correctly & Not Policing Our Brothers Who Are Going About It The Wrong Way

It’s Time To Level Up Fellas.

Peace And Be Well

Your Bruv Nes