#also these children need to get the fuck off grindr.

[zenaidamacrouras1]

Heyo! For the wrapped ask, number 13? Stucky?

Also just wanted to say you’re one of my favourite fic authors I’ve found in a while ❤️ I often anticipate the smutty stuff the most but in your fics I enjoy the in-betweens so much! The way your write children is simultaneously the most warm yet hilarious prose and it always feels so much more lifelike than I often read? Having kids probably helps lol. Sorry I’m just rambling on but you’ve brought me a lot of comfort in the past few months and I appreciate you a lot

Hope you have a good one!!! :)

Thank you for the amazingly kind sweet words - so encouraging - flattery will get you everywhere, so here is a 2500 word smutty fic inspired by this wistful little love song, and yes, I wrote this whole fucking thing last night laying in bed and edited it today in between work calls because I have ADHD, we've talked about this, my brain is very good at doing exactly what it wants and sometimes our interests align and things like this happen.

I listened to this album (So Jealous) on repeat when writing the sad chapters of my fic Tension and Tonic, so not surprised this song ended up in my top songs nor in the direction this story took.

Tegan and Sarah - Take Me Anywhere

Warning this is smutty with graphic sexytimes.

“Stop making me laugh. I'm trying to be sexy," Steve laughs. 

"If you can't laugh and be sexy what are you even doing, sweetheart," Bucky drawls back and that's probably when Steve fell in love with Bucky. Unfortunately it was also during their first hook up. It was decent enough - mutual blow jobs. Bucky clearly knew what he was doing. On the surface nothing too different than Steve’s normal routine of finding a guy and blowing off some steam, but there were a lot of subtle red flags that should have warned Steve to run like hell.

Like how entranced Steve was when it was his turn to make Bucky feel good. Bucky, with his dancer's grace, with the asymmetry of his missing arm making the lines of him more perfect somehow, his long hair falling loose into his face, framing his perfect jawline, the pink O of his mouth, the dark smudge of his eyelashes. The way his elegant fingers fluttered so tenderly along Steve's cheek when he sucked in. It was. Lovely. Bucky is lovely. Lovable. It's a problem. 

That first time Bucky had sort of folded Steve into his body after, pulling him up onto the couch and burying his face in Steve's hair in a way that normally would have made Steve bristle because he is small but he's not a fucking stuffed animal. But Bucky hummed and sighed in this contented way. Bucky is all bones and muscular and yet fluid and it feels powerful to be held so desperately by someone like that. 

"Sorry I’m a cuddler, just shove me off when you get sick of me," Bucky hums, and laughs after a minute, and lets Steve go. "Don't make fun of me, I can't have sex with out snuggling, I should have warned you in the Grindr chat," and Bucky is easy and lax and happy and Steve could have maybe stayed longer without it being weird, but by then, he kind of wanted to stay forever so he definitely needed to go right away. 

Bucky is a former ballet dancer. Well, he still dances actually, but he was a principal with the New York City Ballet till he lost his arm, a story he shrugs off easily. "My ma always said I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached and turns out it's the same for my arm? I called the Coney Island lost and found, but it wasn't there? Just kidding, it was a car accident, just glad I'm alive." He's the assistant director of fundraising for the ballet now, and does some choreography too, Steve's not sure how it all works, but Bucky is happy and charming and Steve would definitely hand over all his money to fund the ballet if Bucky had asked him. But. Bucky's never asked him to donate to the ballet. They don't talk about work stuff beyond the minimum. Steve’s just happy they talk at all.  

The next week Steve's phone pings and it's Bucky on Grindr again, and apparently Bucky had a shit day and wants to get fucked, and he likes Steve's dick so, well, does Steve top? Steve saves his work, stops his time tracker, and that's all the graphics that are getting designed for today. He changes out of his work from home sweats and puts on his date jeans, and heads over to Bucky's place to take them back off again. Bucky's wearing a suit, his hair slicked back, and the arm of the suit neatly tailored up. He looks amazing, his tie just a little loose around his neck, his eyes lazy and suggestive, moving right into Steve's space and dipping his head down for a kiss before Steve can even say hello. 

Steve can work with that, he pushes Bucky into the wall and spreads Bucky’s legs enough so that they're the same height and untucks Bucky's shirt so he can feel up his slim frame. Steve moves Bucky through his apartment and into his bed, and climbs on top of Bucky, and Bucky reaches into the bedtime table for lube and condoms and it's good, it's so good, and Steve can't recommend fucking a ballerina or whatever a guy ballet dancer is any higher, especially when Bucky bites hard into Steve's shoulder and keens desperately and more and more until Steve's ready to last forever if Bucky needs him to, except then Bucky's shaking apart with his one hand in Steve's hair and kissing him messily all teeth and heaving breath and that's fine. Steve loves Bucky's teeth. 

After, Steve's forcibly cuddled by Bucky again, which is fine because Steve's legs are kind of rubbery because he's not as athletic as Bucky - then again, who is. 

Steve cuddles with Bucky and listens to him ramble on about nothing in particular before sliding back into his date jeans and letting himself out. In his head tells himself this is a business transaction more or less. Steve is a consultant who knows how to do authentic and meaningful work for his clients and move on. A skillshare of sorts. 

It sort of becomes a Friday night thing. Most Friday nights Bucky seems to have some kind of high end fundraiser related to his work at the ballet. It makes sense that Bucky can’t be hunting for a hookup while representing his work, so it’s perfectly logical that he’d touch base with Steve after for a bit of no strings attached fun. Steve doesn’t see any need to tell Bucky that he’s not seeing anyone else and also that he’d love to be Bucky’s boyfriend because, haha, what? Why would he say that? 

Honestly, they barely know each other beyond Steve having every inch of Bucky’s flexible, lovely body memorized. Steve’s favorite parts are the imperfections, the freckles, the scars, the cowlick that makes his hair stick up funny if he doesn’t slather product in it. He doesn’t mention it, because what kind of asshole would mention it, but he’s transfixed by the way Bucky adapts to having one arm, because it’s just so fucking beautiful. It draws the eye, the way his liquid grace casually defies gravity. It often seems his momentum should go one way, but it seamlessly flows another, and Steve wants to draw Bucky or at least take a picture of him. But they don’t do that. 

"I looked up your art," Bucky murmurs into Steve's hair one evening during their post coital cling session that maybe gets a little longer every week. Steve kind of freezes because what? He didn’t realize Bucky even knew his last name?  "It's good. You're pretty badass. It's impressive. I can't draw for shit, so I was curious what kind of art you do. Maybe we could commission you at the ballet, you like drawing ballet shoes and legs and shit?"

"Oh," Steve says because, like, seriously, Bucky, do you not know what a hookup is? Steve should be getting dressed right now, not letting Bucky lazily slide his hand up and down Steve's back while talking about his art.

"It's dynamic, lots of movement, reminded me of dancing. Maybe I have a dancing brain. Everything reminds me of dancing," Bucky laughs, and his breath is hot into Steve's hair, and Steve laughs too, because laughter is the appropriate response and also dear oh dear. Yeah. Bucky Barnes is lovable. 

"You had heart surgery?" Bucky asks in a sudden subject change. And Steve wonders for a minute how Bucky knows that. In his defense, he's drunk on sex endorphins and being stroked like a kitten and practically purring. 

"Yeah, couple of em," Steve says. It's such an enormous scar. Obviously Bucky noticed the damn thing, they’ve been naked together close to a dozen times. 

"It's all ticking away alright now though?" Bucky says softly, and Steve huffs a yes and pulls back before he falls asleep. "Should I not have asked? I feel like I have no filter about scars and shit since I got de-armed. It's like, I dunno. My injury is the first thing everyone sees. You're probably as bored as I am of talking about it."

"Did you ever have a filter?" Steve teases, and Bucky laughs hard, his head thrown back with joy, and that feels good. "Yeah, Buck, I'm pretty healthy these days."

Steve manages to escape a little while later. He looks up videos of Bucky dancing. It's only fair if Bucky's been looking up Steve's art. What he does next in the privacy of his own home when he sees Bucky's thighs in those ballet tights is his own business. All of the videos are from before the car accident. Bucky looks strange with two arms, off balance and overloaded, which makes absolutely no sense, but Steve’s just so used to Bucky’s body how it is now. 

They meet up the next week, and Bucky’s freshly showered from a dance performance, which, Steve didn’t realize Bucky was performing anymore, let alone today. Bucky’s full of adrenaline and way pushier than normal, taking Steve’s mouth and getting Steve up against the wall. Usually Steve doesn’t like to be pushed around, but he trusts Bucky by now. He’s really a super nice guy. Steve couldn’t be luckier in having such a convenient sex arrangement with such a beautiful, kind, sexually compatible person. This is a thought he has briefly before Bucky grabs him by the crotch and presses their shoulders together hard, slamming Steve into the wall, and Steve’s mind kind of whites out. 

After they’re laying on the floor in the hallway of Bucky’s apartment, huffing and limp and half dressed. Steve reaches into his jacket pocket, (how convenient they are still right there by the door) and takes a puff of his inhaler. 

“Shit, you ok?” Bucky asks in surprise. 

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m cat-sitting for a friend, got my allergies up, and you know, I know that wasn’t enough exertion to get your heart rate up, but some of us mere mortals have physical limits.” 

Bucky laughs dryly. “My heart rate was up Steve. Before the physical exertion started, actually though,” he adds softly. And what is that supposed to mean? 

Steve lays in bed awake half the night trying to decide if he should go to Bucky’s dance performance the next night. It’s in a massive hall, there’s no way Bucky would know. Is it too intimate? Is it too stalkery? Does he mention it after if he goes? Is it weirder if he goes and doesn’t mention it? That would be weird if he doesn’t mention it, so okay he has to mention it but does he mention it before or after he goes? The tickets are expensive too, so then it’s weird like, does he seem like he’s trying to score free tickets if he mentions it before? But then Bucky seems like the type to be annoyed if Steve pays when Bucky has free tickets on offer. Ugh. 

In the end, Steve goes, and he buys the ticket and doesn’t tell Bucky, and he cries because Bucky’s dancing is amazing, and breathtaking, and every adjective, and Steve could draw only Bucky for the rest of his life and not have captured the lines, the strength of him, the defiance. He wants to explain to the person next to him that he’s not crying because he’s like inspired that Bucky is disabled, but because he’s in love with Bucky, and it’s one thing to suspect the guy you’ve been fucking with no strings attached every Friday night for months is perfect, but it’s another thing to have it proven. 

Steve doesn’t mention to Bucky that he went to his performance, but he tries to put it into the way he touches Bucky the next week. Reverent. He spends close to an hour opening Bucky up with his mouth and fingers, and the sounds Bucky makes when Steve finally enters him, kissing him gently down his neck, the way Bucky’s out of athletic moves to try and wow Steve with, but just transcendently arching up, helpless with pleasure, that’s how Steve lets Bucky know he saw him dance, and he loved it, and he loves Bucky. 

That night, Bucky asks him to stay the night, and Steve actually has an early Saturday meeting with a client, he’s not making it up, he even shows Bucky the calendar note, and Bucky laughs happily, and says it isn’t a big deal. But. It seems like a big deal. Steve makes sure not to schedule anything the next Saturday, in case Bucky asks again, but Bucky doesn’t ask again. Which is fine. 

Then something strange happens. Steve’s locking up Wanda’s apartment from checking on her cat, and his phone pings, and it’s Bucky via Grindr, asking for Steve’s phone number. It’s actually super weird they haven’t done the phone number thing yet, honestly, Steve doesn’t even use Grindr except to confirm his weekly dates with Bucky. Steve sends his number over as he’s walking to the subway to head back home, it’s only one stop, but it’s cold. 

Bucky texts him right away, asking him what he’s doing Friday. Steve says he’s open, because, duh? At this point, Steve would turn down the presidential medal of freedom if the ceremony was on a Friday night between 10 pm and midnight. 

Bucky asks him what he’s doing at 6 pm on Friday, and that’s new. They almost never hang out before 10 pm, or whenever Bucky’s fundraising events wrap up. Steve’s not doing anything in particular, and says as much. Bucky asks if he’d hate wearing a suit and getting free wine? And Steve does not, in fact, hate free wine. He also has a decent suit, he thinks it’s pretty stylish still, he had it tailored a few years ago, but men’s styles don’t change as fast as women’s, which is a relief when you are not a standard human male size and have to have all your clothes custom fit to make sure you don’t look like a child wearing their dad’s dress up clothes. 

Bucky asks if Steve would want to meet up with him at his fundraiser on Friday, it’s at an art gallery, and the art reminded him of Steve. Steve feels his heart pound. 

S: I like free wine, wearing suits, and art galleries. Sure. 

B: Another question. 

S: I also like answering questions 

B: Do you like holding hands? 

S: Depends on the hand. 

B: I mean, I only have the one. 

Steve feels dizzy. 

S: Yes, I would like holding your hand. One is sufficient for my needs. 

B: And you would like holding my hand and going somewhere with me on a date? 

S: You could take me anywhere.

#spotify wrapped writing challenge #spotify wrapped ficlet #spotify wrapped fic #this is 2500 words #it's a damn fic #I'll clean it up and post it to ao3 at some point too #stucky au #stucky fanfic #ballet Bucky #Catching feelings #is my weakness. #smut

[bittersweetyrn]

fun reactions my mom had to good omens 2

we watched the first season together back in november when i wrote a big communications paper on it, so i had to remind her of stuff. I tried to make these as close to verbatim as possible bc she is very silly and forgetful too <3

spoilers ahoy under the cut!

"That's entirely my fault for not collecting the rent!" mom: gonna tell our landlord about this

Gabriel is naked in the streets mom: is he naked?

mom: literally gets jump scared by Crowley's scream of Gabriel

"I thought I'd put the books in alphabetical order...what's author?" mom: oh no "I was shelving the books by the first letter of the first sentence." mom: OH NO

mom: why do these crows sound all fucked up? mom: ohhhh....haha

"Was Eve a baby?" "No, they can arrive at any size." mom: *literally losing her mind laughing*

"You have my word as an angel." mom: *gasp* and he wasn't struck down???? oooooooh.... mom: wait were job's children really killed in the Bible???

"You said it wasn't lonely." "I'm a demon..." mom: ....I lied. *looks at me like this* 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

"I always say the best part of a cupperty is looking at it." mom: awww, a nice angel!! they're cute

Aziraphale's custom job of the Bentley mom: cute, it changes depending on who's driving it :3

Sean Biggerstaff: appears mom, nearly yelling: who is that!!!! who is he!!! I know him!!! what's he on!!!!

discussion of selling bodies for anatomy lessons mom: oh yeah this was an episode of Sawbones

Crowley makes a big hole mom: oh my god he just sent them to hell?????

Elspeth pours a glass of laudanum mom: she's gonna kill Aziraphale

crowley loopy off poison mom: he reminds me of Jim Carrey

"I mostly use it for Twitter. And Grindr." mom: what's Grindr? me: I literally can't do this right now

"You know I can't cross the threshold." mom: what is happening, vampires now??

mom: (about Furfur) that's the Neo of Sporin guy

nazi-zombie burps out the drunk guy's song mom: just like iZombie...

"Oh, well! Sometimes you meet a stubborn turnip." mom: he is so embarrassing

the entire bullet catch scene mom: I'm chewing all my cuticles off im so nervous

Furfur gives Crowley the evidence packet mom: ooh I bet the picture isn't even gonna show up, that'll save them. somehow.....oh. never mind.

Nina walks into the bookshop for the ball mom: what has he done to everyone??? wow, aziraphale doesn't know anything, huh mom: also Jim looks like he's wearing the suit from Dumb and Dumber

mom: *cracks up at every instance of the Jim/James/Gabriel goof*

"You are unloved and unlovable." mom: jesus that's pretty harsh

"You wanna come in here and say that to my face?" mom: HONEY NO

Heaven's security footage of Gabriel as he leaves mom: okay, hohoho, now all the pieces are coming together.

fly climbs into Jim's eye mom: aueghhgheohh??

"No need to ever meet again, is there?" "None whatsoever." mom: pfft, they're in love

"No one's ever given me anything before." mom: now I'm sad :(

Metatron buying coffee mom: who's that? is he important? me: you saw him like 15 minutes ago. earlier in the episode mom: really? when?

metatron scowls at crowley mom: whoa why'd he scuzz him so hard?

The Argument mom: MY CUTICLES!! *keeps looking over at me nervously*

"I forgive you." mom: oh no he didn't

mom: is there gonna be another season?

me: if people watch it enough, but it's also up to amazon

mom: we should write a letter to amazon

#good omens spoilers #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens #“the angels not recognizing the metatron is a plothole” #me: actually my mom didn't recognize him in the literal same episode he appeared in soooo #writing a letter to amazon is such a gen-x thing lol #this was very fun watching with her #of course I will keep rewatching it/having it play in the background at all hours of the day #but my mom doesn't have to know how mentally ill I am #text #long post

[jiminsfault]

❥ pairing: Jungkook x reader

❥ genre: non-idol!au, nc17 / fluff, the tiniest amount of smut, a bit of crack, romance

❥ word count: 7.5k

❥ summary: Jimin wanted to play matchmaker and you fell right into his love trap.

❥ warnings: a lot of sexual comments, Reader has a fixation on hygiene?, Jimin is gay, side Yoonmin (it’s not really much but present), sexual tension, Jungkook probably has a Noona kink, use of korean honorifics (only a bit), Reader is super awkward, Jungkook is gonna steal your heart, more sexual tension, Jungkook knows tiktok, making out, kisses, it gets heated a bit, a lot of love, shy boy!Jungkook, more love

❥ thank you for this great header heathy! @shadowsremedy​ uwu

“Hey, uhm. Could you…,” Jimin started his sentence next to you, lying on your couch, “would you go on a date with me?”

You just sipped on your glass of coke, hearing this, you almost spat it out. With wide eyes you turned towards him and couldn’t keep your mouth closed, once you gulped the drink down. “No?” He asked, seeing your reaction. His tone was questioning and he had eyes just as big as you had.

“No. What the fuck, Jimin? Why would I go on a date with you? Like, ever,” you rolled your eyes, looking at him with disgust. Not to misunderstand, Jimin was handsome and funny, always there for you when you needed him. He encouraged you to go out and meet people and sat through movies with you, when you needed to cry about the boy who broke your heart.

But that’s exactly why you wouldn’t ever go on a date with him. Jimin was your best friend ever since high school, when he sat down next to you, a new student from Busan and just moved to seoul. He didn’t know anybody but when he sat down next to you, you smiled at him and explained to him what the class was about. Ever since then, you both were like paper and glue, sticking together for whatever troubles you had. You know too much about the guy, couldn’t ever see him in a romantic way. Plus, he’s gay, so.

Jimin rolled his eyes, too, sitting up and throwing all the crumbs from his chips onto your couch. He’s going to be cleaning this. “No you dummy, not like that. Just accompany me out with two guys and-”

“I will not have a foursome with you and some random dudes you found on Grindr!” You screeched, holding your pointer finger up and successfully stopping him from speaking.

“Can you shut up for a second? I don’t ever wanna see you when you get down and dirty with someone. You can keep that for yourself, I already had to find your vibrator,” shaking his head, he shuddered at the memory, “that was enough trauma.”

“I’m trying to tell you, it’s kind of like a double date. Except, the two dudes don’t know that yet. I really wanna fuck this one guy but he didn’t get the memo so he invited his friend when I said we could meet up sometime.” Another eye roll while he threw a chip up in the air and caught it with his mouth. He continued to speak, while chewing, making you cringe at his disgusting behavior. “His name’s Jungkook, the friend of his. You’re gonna come with and distract him from me and my snack. I just want some alone time to make him my sl-”

You held your hand up again, looking away. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “Fine, okay. If I come along, what’s in it for me? I have to spend my evening with some rando, getting him away from his friend? What if that dude doesn’t want to be alone with you?” Your face gave your doubt away, looking Jimin up and down.

“That’s the thing, Y/N. He doesn’t know that he wants to be alone with me yet. After that evening, when he realized what good of a catch I am, he definitely won’t get enough of some good alone time.” You scoffed, when he wiggled his eyebrows up and down. Reaching forward, you snatched the bag of chips from him and ate some yourself. “And what’s in it for you, my sweet darling? Jungkook’s fucking hot, too. I’d want to bite his ass, but he’s straight as an arrow.”

He fake pouted, shortly after his devilish smirk came out because he could tell that you were considering it. “Do you have a picture? I’m not gonna let you trick me like last time,” the trust you once had in him to hook you up with someone was long gone after he told you he’d found the man of your dreams, until the guy turned out to look like he drank beer for fifty years and hadn’t showered for much longer.

“No, but I can describe him?” You tsked, standing up from the couch and going to the bathroom. Jimin could lie to you all he wants, you’re not gonna waste your time with this. “C’mon! Help me get some ass! Please!”

You snickered as he wailed in the living room, already having decided to help your friend out a little. But he didn’t need to know that just yet, teasing Jimin was too much fun.

“So you’re sure this guy won’t be a creep?” You checked back in with Jimin for the nth time. He could never be trusted when he was trying to get into some dude’s pants.

“Yes, Y/N. I’m a hundred percent sure and if I’m lying, you can absolutely cut off my balls and serve them for breakfast, yeah?” It was laced with humor and he side eyed you from the passenger's seat in your car. Breathing out, heavy with annoyance, you nodded.

This couldn’t be the worst, you supposed. “What happens if you and your twinky hit off and y’all wanna leave? Am I supposed to stay with this Jungkook guy?” 

“He’s not a twink, Y/N. You’ll see, Yoongi is really nice!” His voice reached high ends and you scrunched up your nose. Even though you dressed up in a deep blue dress that was bordering on mid thigh, with your favorite heels, comfortable but still chic, you were full of doubts. Yes, a movie with Jimin and additional possible friends would be nice, but the risk of an unhygienic or rude date is still present.

“I can smell your worries,” Jimin said. You looked at him quickly and saw that he was watching you intently. “Jungkook really is a nice guy. He’s younger than you but he got his manners. And he’s a smart one,” he went on about your date for the rest of the way to the cinema and once you parked the car, he finally stopped talking.

“If you’re lying, prepare your balls,” you threatened, looking at him with sharp eyes. He nodded with a smirk and jumped out of your car.

You followed him, linking your arm with his after he waited for you and together you walked towards the entrance of the cinema. Inside, the entrance hall was bustling with people buying tickets and snacks, walking to the assigned rooms to watch movies. Children were running around and groups of teenagers filled the ticket box office.

Jimin already went to complain about how long they’d have to wait but then a guy approached. He had black hair, was about the same size as Jimin but had a bit of a smaller frame. His face was feline like and he seemed to know exactly who to talk to. “Jimin?” His voice sounded when he was only a few steps away and with a happy noise, your friend let go of your arm and fell into the arms of the man.

“Yoongi! How are you, where’s Jungkook?” He blabbered quickly, laying his arm around this Yoongi’s shoulders. Now that you thought about it, you never asked how Jimin met this guy. When they were closer to you, you smiled at Yoongi and introduced yourself. He seemed a bit shy, shrinking into Jimin’s frame when he greeted you. It was cute and suddenly you knew exactly why Jimin was so keen on meeting him. 

“Jungkook is getting us popcorn, one sweet, one salty because we didn’t know what you guys preferred. Also drinks, I hope coke is fine?”

Jimin and you both agreed and once the both of them started conversation, you started to look around more. They seemed to get along well, why were you even here? And where is this Jungkook? The snack checkout was still full with people and considering the lack of knowledge you had about his looks except ‘he’s handsome’, your searching was hopeless.

You decided to grab your phone out of your small purse, checking the time only to see that the movie should start in about ten minutes. “Guys, why don’t we buy the tickets? We’ll miss the start if we wait longer,” you trailed while you still looked at your phone, overlooking the messages a group chat sent.

“Already taken care of,” a smooth voice announced from behind you. It caught you off guard, so you shrieked a bit and clutched your hands to your chest. A giggle was heard and shortly after, the person to the voice stood next to you, hands full with popcorn and drinks. The two men across you, still in conversation, took a drink each, Jimin holding a popcorn bag as well. “You must be Y/N, yeah? I’m Jungkook,” he said. Once you finally looked at his face, he was quite tall so you had to look high up, you saw a very handsome face.

He had perky and cute lips that seemed strawberry pink, a small mole underneath and his smile was cheeky and adorable. With his smile came bunched up cheeks and his eyes seemed to carry his happiness. The light brown hair was partly over his forehead, a small gap let you see a bit of his eyebrows, strong and dark. His frame was wide, muscly it seemed. He was wearing a jeans jacket with a white shirt underneath and ripped pants that hugged his wonderfully thick thighs. Was he a god or something?

Everyone noticed your quietness and to cover the awkward pause in conversation, Jimin laughed and went in to hug Jungkook. “Nice to see you! Yoongi told me a bunch about you. This here is Y/N, she can be a bit shy around new people,” he made show to hold your shoulders and make you look at him. Your cheeks glowed up with heat and an embarrassed laugh made it out from between your lips.

“It’s fine, I’m sure we can get used to each other inside,” Jungkook said with a friendly tone and you were glad that this was all that was needed for the small group to get moving. Jimin trailed in front with an arm draped around Yoongi’s waist and he looked back to wink at you. “C’mon, don’t wanna miss the ads, huh?”

This Jungkook really had an effect on you like no one else did. For god’s sake, you were older than this guy and you acted like a schoolgirl. Get a grip, Y/N!

With a heavy intake of breath, packing your phone back into your purse, you walked towards the three that were already a bit up the stairs. Arriving next to your date for the evening, you looked at his side profile. “Should I take something from that?” Pointing to the drinks and the bag of popcorn in his arms, you kept looking at him, between glancing down to make sure you didn’t miss the final step and walked behind Jimin and Yoongi. Did they even know which room the movie was playing?

“I got it, thanks,” he said, smiling down at you. Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “You’re a year older than me, right?” His question confused you a bit, after not much conversation he brought up age in an awfully weird way.

“Uhm… yeah, I think so? Jimin said I’m older than you, so,” you shrugged your shoulders and looked in front of you, walking through the doors of hall D. You saw your friend and his company walking up towards line 47 and they sat down on seat 4 and 5. “Do I go past them or do we sit here?”

You pointed at the seats 2 and 3 and looked at Jungkook. He scrunched his nose and you could see his eyes smile again. Nodding his head to the seats you were pointing at, he sat down shortly after you did too. He sat next to Yoongi, which made you be the furthest from your friend and slightly on edge. Jimin said he’d be with you until you were comfortable, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to be on your own with Jungkook.

The room was already dimmed down, the ads weren’t playing yet, so it was still relatively bright for a cinema. “Which popcorn do guys have?” Jimin asked from the end of your small row. Jungkook grabbed one popcorn and held it in front of you, looking at you with a grin.

“Find it out?” You gulped, raising your hand to grab the flake, but Jungkook held it closer to your mouth, making you open your mouth and taking it from his fingers with your lips. They touched the tips of his fingers briefly and you felt a spark of warmth in your belly, as well as your face. He still looked at you closely and didn’t waver from your face, meanwhile you looked sideways towards the screen to avoid his eyes. You munched the popped kernel and licked your lips.

“Salt,” you stated, shyly looking at the still smiling man who now nodded. Jimin could’ve just tried his own popcorn to find out that they had the sweet one. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at your lap. Why did he tell you to dress up? Jungkook was only wearing a jeans jacket and Jimin himself wasn’t that dolled up either.

Gnawing on your lip, you blended their voices out, only to be poked at your shoulder. You looked over, noticing that Jungkook probably tried to talk to you. “Is salt fine with you?” You nodded, calming yourself down. Right when he put your drink in front of you to have it, the lights got turned off.

“Oh no, now I can’t see the holder,” you murmured more to yourself. You clumsily tried to place your drink into the round plastic on your seat to your left but almost dropped the cup. Hissing out a curse, you tried again but failed. Suddenly you saw through your peripheral vision that Jungkook moving next to you, leaning across your body and taking your cup from your hold, finding the holder and sitting back into his seat. Stunned, you were glued to your place. Your breath was quick, Jungkook smelled nice and the way he leaned over you and completely covered you made you a bit unconcentrated. The advertisements started blaring out of the speakers but people were still talking, chewing their snacks and slurping their drinks.

“Noona,” Jungkook suddenly murmured right next to your ear. You felt his breath on your cheek and his presence was so hard to ignore. “Are you fine? You seem uncomfortable,” he continued, voice laced with obvious worry.

You looked to your side, making his face out with the light of the screen in front. It was close but he kept his distance once you faced him. “I’m a little nervous,” you whispered honestly. “And I’m overdressed.”

He giggled cutely, looking at the screen for a moment, where a movie trailer was now playing, but turned back to you. “Maybe a bit,” he admitted. He paused, seeming to think about his words. “But you look really pretty, Noona.”

He turned his head slightly to the side and smiled at you, fumbling around with your purse in your lap and avoiding his gaze. The cinema filled even more up and before the advertisements were fully over, there sat a man right in your viewpoint. A very tall man. You huffed, going left and right to see over his head, but to really see something, you’d have to lean over Jungkook. Taking a glance at him, he was casually talking with Yoongi and Jimin, they had picked a conversation up while you were busy. Munching a bit on the popcorn and sipping from his drink, he looked almost cute, wouldn’t he be so attractive that you couldn’t cope. His jeans jacket was still on and he spread his legs, slouching a bit in the seat to get comfortable. You usually hated it when men took up space like this. Jimin constantly did it to get on your nerves and if you would have half a mind, you’d see that he’s doing it tonight as well. Something about the way Jungkook made it look like changed your mind. It was suddenly not as gross, you’d rather get a personal feel for the meaty legs and the man was so attractive, you were sure his body had to be as well.

With a quick look to his side, he noticed you stopped squirming. But when he looked at the head in front of you, he could tell that it still very much blocked your view. Rasping his throat to prepare, he leaned over to you and came close, “do you want us to switch seats? I can probably look over him.” You jumped, slouching into your form and when you looked to your right, you saw that Jungkook was ready to stand up. 

“No, it’s fine,” you whispered, laying a hand on his wrist that was nearest to you. He looked at the contact and you spluttered, realising your touch. He looked up, the dim lighting making it hard to really read his expression. With an audible sigh, he gave up the advance of switching seats, but still wanted to help you.

“Excuse me, Sir?” He leaned forwards a bit. The man in front of you turned over and looked at him, demanding what was the problem. “My girlfriend can’t really see with you in the view, would you mind scooting up the row two seats? It doesn’t seem like more people will come.”

You covered your face, wanting to disappear. Jungkook couldn’t just talk to a stranger like this, calling you his girlfriend. But to your surprise, the man nodded, smiling friendly and saying that he figured it should be alright, switching seats and then checking back that everyone could see. With gaping eyes, you looked to your seat neighbor and shook your head slowly. He grinned at you and leaned back, starting a conversation over how great he is, sarcasm obvious in his tone, but you still agreed wholeheartedly.

The movie started, the lights got even lower and you finally could lean back and relax. Until you realized one crucial thing, Jimin lied to you once again. The little fucker would get some nice bruises once you were done with him, he picked out a horror movie without telling you. In fact, you thought you were here to watch a family friendly animated movie, not something about dead dolls. He probably just wants his twink to be scared and hide in his arms and yet you have to suffer through it.

You tried to hold in your screams and whimpers at the first scary scenes, but Jungkook still noticed the stiffening of your posture and the small shrieks you let out. Without you even really noticing, he pulled you close and whispered in your ear, “you scared?” Nodding, you looked at him with terror in your eyes and he chuckled deep in his chest. You felt it through his jacket, your shoulder at his front. At the opportunity, you looked at the men next to Jungkook. Yoongi was laying in Jimin’s arms, hiding his face in his neck when the screen gave away jump scares and shrill noises.

“You can hold onto me, if it helps?” Jungkook suggested. At this point, you were willing to try anything. So you clutched onto Jungkook’s upper arm, pulling him a bit in front of you to hide behind his shoulder when the music started to build up.

As you left the movie hall, credits rolled and popcorn collected, you staggered out into the light and took in a big breath of air. You survived. Never in your life had you regretted meeting Jimin this much, the guy still had the nerve to laugh at you and mimic your shocked eyes. Yoongi giggled next to him, seemingly more attached than before the movie and you asked yourself if you really were needed to give them privacy.

“I think I’ll go to the bathroom, too. The ride home will be long,” Yoongi trailed, pointing behind him as he started walking backwards. Jimin nodded, waving cutely and turning back to you. Jungkook attended the bathroom as well, which made you wait on them now.

With a cheeky grin, Jimin looked at you expecting. “So? What do you think about Jungkook?” Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him, in search for the nearest chair to sit on. 

“Jimin, I have an assumption and if I’m right about it, I’ll kill you.” The seriousness in your tone made him press his lips together and look at you. “You and Yoongi know each other well enough already, yeah?”

Your friend tried to avoid looking at you, moving from foot to foot and laughing nervously. “Well,” he started, puffing his cheeks with air. “We do know each other, but we don’t fuck! Yet. He never took my flirting seriously, which is why he invited a friend when I asked him out.”

He looked at you with puppy eyes, making you sigh. “But there was more behind me joining tonight, right? This seems like a setup.” Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you looked behind Jimin to see when one of the others came back. Your friend bit his lip, slowly nodding.

“Y/N, I know Jungkook, so I know that he’s such a great guy for you. When Yoongi said he’ll bring a friend, I asked him to bring Jungkook,” he admitted. “Getting you out of your room has been hard enough for a few weeks now, but you rarely meet guys. You always cry about your ex and that you’d never find the right one, so…,” he trailed off.

“So you took it into your own hands and made me come here, dolled up like this? You chose a horror movie, how cliché of you. The seats?” The wild guesses made Jimin squirm, you catching his plan head on and exposing him.

“Give him a chance, Y/N. He saw pictures of you and I told him a bunch, he thinks you’re really cute and Yoongi probably listens to him swoon about you right now! Nobody takes this long for a wee.” You laughed weakly, not knowing what to think of this.

Exhaling, you looked at Jimin for a long, quiet pause. “He’s really cute,” you said with finality. He made a show of fist bumping the air and congratulating himself. “But you can’t just play matchmaker with me.” The guilty look was back on again, puppy eyes and wobbly lip.

“Y/N, but you like him, right? Will you see him again?” He said in his baby voice. You laughed at this, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “No, really, will you?”

You had to think about that. Jungkook was handsome, smelled good, his hair seemed washed. He looks like he’s hygienic and he was really nice to you as well. Funny, in his own way and he helped you out multiple times. He flirted with you, too. It was a good date, after the awkward beginnings you felt comfortable and he was ready to protect you from the scary figures on screen. While contemplating all this, you bit on your lip and looked at your feet, not noticing the arrival of your company.

“I think I will, actually,” you started, raising your head until you saw Yoongi next to Jimin and realized Jungkook’s presence next to you. For the nth time tonight, blush rose to your face and ears, averting your eyes.

Jimin, not getting enough of teasing you tonight, started to smirk at his newest plot against you. “Hey, why don’t I come back to yours?” He turned to Yoongi, wiggling his eyebrows twice and laying his hand on his date’s waist. He made a noise of thinking before checking in with Jungkook, agreeing to Jimin’s suggestion afterwards. With horror in your eyes, you saw Jimin wave at you and Jungkook, faking worry and playing his act of, “I hope it doesn’t bother you to drive with Y/N?”

Watching the two descend down the stairs, heads disappearing, you turned to look at Jungkook, who already watched you. “What do you think you will?” The question seemed like he waited the whole conversation out to ask and you couldn’t keep eye contact with his intense stare on you.

“Ah, just… Jimin asked if I’ll study tonight!” You exclaimed, moving to jump off the chair but Jungkook stood in front of you, blocking the way.

“Did you enjoy tonight enough to meet me again?” He asked, his voice a tone darker than it was before and when you looked up at him, you couldn’t focus on just one feature of his. His broad frame covered you completely once again and his smell invaded your senses. Feeling a bit dizzy, you put your hand on his biceps. He felt your apprehensiveness and held you by your waist to support you.

Being shy about this kind of thing, you looked down and nodded quickly. “Yeah, I…,” you started, looking up again and being assured with the way his eyes didn’t waver from your form, “I’d really like that.” He smiled, nodding slowly and helping you get down from the high chair.

“So, can I ask you for your number, then?” He was blushing a bit himself, touching his ear when he waited for you to tap your digits into his phone. He promised to text you soon, said he couldn’t wait to meet you again and asked you all kinds of questions to find out what date idea you liked most.

In the end, he had a few ideas that he wrote down and said he needed some more time to think about it. You giggled at his cute behavior, asking him to lead the way for his place, once you were in the car. He helped you navigate and thanked you for getting him home, wishing you a good night and a safe drive back to your place. You nodded and reminded him of texting you, hearing a ping only moments after he closed the car door to walk the driveway up.

Checking your phone, you chuckled when you saw a message by an unknown number, ‘how soon can you see me again?’

It turned out to be very soon, actually. Just the next week, Jungkook organized a date for the two of you, keeping it a secret where exactly he’ll be taking you. He told you to wear casual clothing, just a simple outfit and no heels. He teased you to not overdress again and you actually screamed. Getting your point across that it was Jimin’s fault was hard when Jungkook was cocky enough to assume you wanted to lure him in.

But on the same friday, Jungkook picked you up with his truck, greeting you with his bright smile and congratulating you on the fitting clothes. He received your famous eye roll and off you went, onto the road. 

The ride wasn’t long, Jungkook assured you that it’s around the city and that it’ll be fun. You decided to trust him, waiting to arrive wherever he takes you. Talking to him came easy, over the last week you texted a lot and got acquainted enough to be comfortable around him and tell stories to fill the car. His music taste was exceptional and he promised to make you a playlist soon.

When he turned the corner into a parking lot, you looked around. “Where are we?” You asked, confused because there was no obvious sign hung on the house you were in front.

“You’ll see,” he said, smile steady on his face as he left the car and walked towards the house, your steps close behind him. Jungkook rung a bell, next to it was a handwritten name but the door opened quickly, not giving you time to figure the letters out.

“Jungkook,” you said quietly, looking at him from where he stood three stairs above you. He looked down at you with a quizzed face, leaning his head to the side. “This isn’t some spooky stuff, right?” You furrowed your brows as you hesitated.

He let out an airy laugh, “no, don’t worry, Noona.” He winked at you, not very smooth since he ultimately blinked but it was cute, so you let it slide. Just opening your mouth to repeat the response to the title he used, that you had messaged him a few times now, he mocked in a high tone, “it’s just one year!”

You shook your head, following after him as he walked up two floors. “Pottery?” You asked confused once you saw a sign on the door you halted in front of. He didn’t include that in any of the ideas over the last week, so it took you off guard. Not pegging him for the type, you looked at him as he opened the door that was left open by whoever owned this.

“Yeah, pottery. Jimin told me you never tried it, so I figured we could learn something,” he trailed, walking inside the open room where a register stood with a woman behind and a few people walking around. “Hello, I called,” he greeted the woman behind the desk. “Jeon Jungkook?”

The receptionist nodded, making a noise of understanding as she scrolled through the computer in front of her. “Yes, there it is. Room 3, it’s right to the left once you lead the hallway.” He nodded, looking where she pointed and after you greeted the woman yourself, the both of you walked towards where she instructed.

“C’mere, you’re so slow,” Jungkook teased as he looked back at you and stood in the room. You grumbled something about your short legs, he couldn’t hear everything, but laughed his heart out at your grumpy face.

“Do we do this alone? Aren’t we getting instructions on what to do?” You threw into the almost empty room. There were stools and round tables, you figured they were where you could do the pottery. On the side of the room was a table with already made cups and bowls that were drying and next to them sat black plastic boxes. “What’s in these boxes?”

Before he could take a guess, you walked to them and opened one, seeing clay inside. “Ooh, so this,” you grabbed a clump, “is what we use?” He chuckled at your many questions as he sat on one of the stools in front of a table.

“Bring it here and let’s do this,” he grinned. Taking the clump, you dropped it on his table and went back to close the door, figuring that you really wouldn’t have an instructor. You sat down on the other stool, scooting it closer to Jungkook to watch what he was doing. “My knowledge about this is limited to tiktoks and youtube videos, I’m just saying,” he warned, serious look on his face until it cracked.

He dipped his hands in a water bowl that stood next to him on the floor, tapping the chunk of clay and applying pressure. When it worked, both your eyes were wide and you made a sound of amazement. After he made a high pole, he pressed it down and used his thumbs to make a hole and rounded his hands to cup the outside, bringing it into a circled form. “I’m making a cup!!”

You continued watching him for a bit and then decided to get working yourself, getting clay from the boxes and patting the mass, forming it up, pressing down but…, “my clump doesn’t like me.”

You looked over at Jungkook with a pout and presented the flat cake of wet clay, a small dent where your thumbs sat. He giggled, standing up and putting his chair next to yours, much closer than before. “Gimme your hands, let me lead,” he said, holding his hands, that were full of clay, in front of you and waiting for your smaller ones. “Now that I’m thinking of it, we should’ve covered our clothes with something,” he thought out loud. It broke the tension that started to build and let you laugh about him freely.

Now that he leaned over your shoulder and held your hands in his to help you form the clay, it seemed like the spinning mass was playing just a side character. His incredibly good scent rose up to your nose again, filling your thoughts of him and his much bigger frame. The way he leaned over you and you felt his hair tickle your ear, sometimes feeling his cold earring on your cheek when he leaned even more in, was intense for you. Thinking was hard when all your brain could process was him.

Just when he managed to archive the cup form, your thoughts stopped being foggy, brain clearing up a bit. “Look at us, we’re out here making cups! Look at this,” he almost roared, excitement clear. His arms were tight around you and he wiggled you with him, holding your hands in his, all full of clay. You cheered too, trying to turn your head to look at his smile. But suddenly, he seemed even closer, immediately looking into your eyes and you gulped, feeling the heat rise to your neck and face. You stuttered back, making him stand up and removing his arms from around you.

“We should uhm, wash our hands,” you said, stiff and shy. He nodded and added that the hour was almost over and you’d need to be out of the room anyway. “What about our cups?” You asked, puppy eyes on display and almost speaking in a high, watery tone. He chuckled, assuring you that he can get them once they call him. When you left the room, you not only found a washroom but the woman who owned this place. She greeted you and asked if you had a good time, mentioning that they will put your cups out to dry and can either pick them up or come and paint them too. With hopeful eyes you looked up at Jungkook and without even seeing your pleading face, he agreed that you definitely had to paint them.

Once she left to remove your cups from the tables and set them out to dry with small name tags in front of them, you and Jungkook left to wash your hands. The restroom wasn’t gender seperated, since the house was originally meant to be actual living place. So there you stood, both incessantly rubbing your hands to get rid of the clay.

Jungkook got done much quicker than you did, not in the mood to make your skin sensitive so you rubbed carefully along your skin. “I don’t think I can get it off,” you pouted. “My skin will hurt if I scrub them too harshly.”

He took your hands in his and started carefully smoothing off the partially dried clay on your fingers. Once he was sure that your hands were clean again, he turned off the water and dried both your hands with the towel, patting your skin rather than rubbing even more. You held back a coo, finding it incredibly adorable of him to take care of you this way. When he looked up from your hands, your eyes met and the tension from back in the pottery room was building again.

“Y/N, would you hate me if I said that I really want to kiss you right now?” His voice was held quiet, considering that other people could request the washroom as well. You shook your head twice and scooted closer to him. He wore a small smile and reached down, taking one of his hands from your still towel wrapped ones and holding the side of your face and neck with it. His thumb caressed your cheek and he switched from looking into your eyes, down to your lips.

After a final moment of giving you the chance of declining, he closed the distance and kissed you softly. There was barely any pressure for the first few seconds, until he moved back and licked his lips, kissing you again but much more determined.

You reciprocated the kiss immediately, filling all your senses with Jungkook and not getting enough of him. An eager, tiny moan slipped out from your lips when he pulled off for a short moment, turning yours and his own head a bit as not to clash noses. He chuckled breathily into the kiss and let his hand roam to the back of your nape, getting you closer to him. He let go of your hands completely, taking the other one and holding you softly by the waist. He took a step forwards, leading you blindly against the sink and the kiss grew desperate. Your breath turned heavy and you couldn’t hold back from pressing against his lips more. Laying the towel down behind you, you grabbed at Jungkook’s shirt around his waist and held onto him. A whine slipped past you when he tentatively licked against your bottom lip, asking for more but still taking it without thought right after.

You both flinched when somebody knocked against the door, calling, “could this be hurried up a bit?” Jungkook looked at your face with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, eyes wide for a moment before he broke out into his wide smile again. He held your face with one and your hip with the other hand still and leaned a bit back to give you space to breathe.

“We’ll be out in a minute!” He exclaimed loud enough to be heard outside and looked back at you. “You’re okay?” His eyes held something in them but you didn’t have time to analyze it, nodding and turning to hang the towel up where it’s supposed to be. He took your hand in his, surprising you and opening the door. A middle aged white woman stood in front of the door, giving you both a judging look before Jungkook said, “that clay sure is tough to get off, huh?”

After that you left, laughing about the woman’s face and praising each other for the cups you made. Jungkook suggested milkshakes and burgers after you drove for a little and happy with the idea, you agreed.

After the food, not definable if it was more lunch or dinner by the time you were eating, Jungkook dropped you off at your place, wishing you a good almost night and saying that he’ll text you when he’s home. You blushed as you asked him to close his eyes and went in to plant a kiss on his cheek. His eyebrow jumped up at the contact and when he opened his eyes again, he grinned. You waved after you closed his door and turned around to walk into your apartment complex, smiling widely.

“Did you guys fuck tho?” Jimin asked you, hand raised and flopped over when he stood in the doorway with his weight on one leg and his hip popped out. His lips were pursed and he raised his eyebrows in expectation. You laughed lightly, shaking your head.

“No, we just,” you bit your lip, “kissed.” It was clear he didn’t buy it but he let it slide. Nodding multiple times, he walked over to the couch and flopped down.

“So, I assume you fell for my little trap, huh,” he grinned. “I was right about thinking you guys would work out, he’s the right amount of gentleman for you.”

He was right about this, you did enjoy Jungkook’s company and you started regularly texting and meeting up, sometimes just casual without the whole pressure of a date around it. He stole some kisses from time to time, always grinning too cute to get scolded for it and secretly, you loved getting attacked with his smooches when you least expect it.

“When is he gonna ask you out? What’s he waiting for?” Your noisy best friend opened up his snacks, throwing some into his awaiting mouth and chewing obnoxiously. You shrugged your shoulders, walking from the kitchen isle to the couch and joining Jimin.

You snuggled into the couch, next to him, watching a movie, when the door bell ringed. “Did you invite someone?” You looked up at Jimin from where you rested your head on his shoulder. He shook his head, watching you as you got up to see who was at the door.

The peephole revealed that Jungkook was standing in front of your door and you never opened it this quickly. “Gukkie! What are you doing here?” You squealed, falling into his arms. You weren’t expecting him at all, haven’t seen him for a week now and missed him the most. He chuckled, putting his arms around you and kissing your head.

“Had to visit the baby,” he talked into your hair, beaming in the affection. Giggling, you looked up, chin on his chest and grinning. “Hyung?” He asked, wide eyes and pitched voice.

Jimin greeted Jungkook back and they fell into small talk, you taking the opportunity to get some drinks, you and Jungkook’s selfmade cups for each of your drinks and a store bought one for Jimin. 

The cups were painted white by your request and once they dried you and Jungkook were able to paint them as you liked, making it your fourth date at the time. You painted the cups for each other, making it a surprise but both ended up with an equally cute design. Jungkook painted your name in his squiggly handwriting and added a heart next to it, painting a smiley and flowers. On his cup you painted colorful swirls on one side and on the other one you painted two stick figures representing both of you.

Once you sat back on the couch, Jungkook between you and Jimin, the teasing started. “Cute show you guys gave me, is there gonna be more later?” Jimin’s eyes were glinting with mischief.

Instead of laughing like you did, Jungkook slapped Jimin on the back and grinned stiff, “you could also just leave?” They both laughed overly exaggerated at it and slept each others backs, until Jimin took Jungkook’s head underneath his arm and rubbed his hair quickly, creating heat.

“Respect your elders, Jungkook. But you’re right, I should go,” he looked up in thought, “Yoongi is probably missing me,” he swooned. After standing up and pushing Jungkook into the couch one last time, he hugged you and took his leave right after.

Jungkook took a sip of his drink and tsked at how Jimin left his untouched, smiling at his cup like he did every time he was over and you gave it to him.

“Ah, my plan worked well,” Jungkook smirked, placing the beverage back on the table in front of the couch, leaning back into the comfortable pillows and looking at you. “Let’s cuddle, c’mere.” His voice turned soft regarding you, opening his arms and inviting you with a wiggle to his brows.

“Why are you here, Guk?” You murmured after a short moment. He exhaled and sat up a little, rasping his throat.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” he said, very serious but the corner of his mouth moved up on his own. “Can we play Mario Kart?”

You blinked at him, bursting into laughter. “This is a very serious matter, Y/N. ” His face was stern, looking at you with no hint of humor.

“You made Jimin leave so we can play a video game?” The question wasn’t really in need of an answer, but Jungkook nodded anyway.

“You can be Peach and I’ll be Mario,” he said as he stood up and searched the drawers of the TV table for the remotes.

“Why do I have to be Peach? I always play Toad.” At this, Jungkook turned around abruptly and shook his head.

“No, that wouldn’t make sense,” he said. He was confusing you and your face made that clear but he was too busy with checking if the remotes had batteries in them, turning on the console and picking out the game of his desires.

“What are you trying to archive with this?” You giggled. “Why can’t I play my usual character?”

He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes up to think. “Okay, well… let me word it differently.” He walked towards you, still sitting on the couch, and placed the two remotes to his side. Sitting opposite of you with crossed legs, he bit his lip and looked as his fingers as he pulled on his sock. “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said timidly, looking up at you to catch your reaction.

You smiled, because it’s simply Jungkook. He could always act like the annoyingly confident guy but he’ll never hide how shy he really could be. 

Nodding, you breathed, “yeah,” and squealed when he took you into his lap with a smile. “But can I still be Toad?”

© 2020 @jiminsfault. All rights reserved.

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[theonlyblaisezabini]

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☆ ━━ 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 |  -- Blaise Dionysus Zabini ☆ ━━ 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 | @blaisezabini ☆ ━━ 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 |  -- August 3rd, Leo ☆ ━━ 𝐀𝐆𝐄 | -- 46 ☆ ━━ 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 | Florence, Italy ☆ ━━ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃-𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 | Pureblood ☆ ━━ 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 | bisexual ☆ ━━ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | 6'3 ☆ ━━ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑/𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 |  brown and brown ☆ ━━ 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 |  -- Slytherin ☆ ━━ FORMER 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁𝐒 |  --  Astronomy , Dueling , Potions (president), Inquistorial Squad, Slug Club and Keeper ☆ ━━ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃 | 9" Vine Wood, Thestral Tail Hair that is temperamental, intelligent and selfish. ☆ ━━ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 | -- Blaise is one of the best at potions, a skill inherited from his mother. He also has a gift in Divination, but he really just predicts a lot of people's deaths and the professor enjoys that. He has been practicing dueling for a bit and is skilled in it. ☆ ━━ 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | Neutral but has alliances with both THE WRAITHS & THE ARCHANGELS "We're not better because of our blood. We're better because we're Zabinis." ☆ ━━ 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 |  Idris Elba 𝕮𝖔𝖉𝖊 𝕹𝖆𝖒𝖊: 𝕬𝖘𝖒𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖚𝖘 & 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖚𝖒

QUICK HEADCANONS: 

BLAISE was raised by a single mother. His father is powerful African wizard and his mother knows who he is because of the circles they run in together but pretends she doesn't know who his father is and won't speak of the man. BLAISE stopped asking her a long time ago and doesn't care. He figures she thinks it's for the best and he trusts his mother unlike anyone else. 

BLAISE is a troublemaker but it ruins his day if someone actually wants to fight him. He can and will defend himself but he always gets a bit 'You really wanna fight?' because everything is one big joke to him. If his jokes offends the weak, that's on them and not him. 

BLAISE thinks he's better than everyone else. It's not necessarily his fault, his mother taught him that he was better than everyone because of who he is and the blood that runs through his veins. His family is the MINISTRY OF MAGIC in Italy and he truly believes everyone else is beneath him because they're just not a ZABINI.

BLAISE may have friends who are DEATH EATERS and most of the people and families he grew up with are, but his own political views aren't killing all the MUDBLOODS. He really could care less about them, he just knows how to label people in ways that also destroys them. But he would do that with anyone, any time. However, growing up as a person of color, he doesn't like people being called out for things they can't change. He won't mention it, he even plays into it when it helps him, but he doesn't like it. His mother is a goddess to him, regardless of his faults. Because of this, he is extra protective of the SLYTHERIN girls, even if they do not need it. He's the first to tease them, but no one else is allowed to demean or degrade any of them. He's often nicer to girls of color, cause it's a lot that they gotta put up with and he knows it. He knew that if things get too bad, his mother isn't going to make him stick around for a war between people fighting over blood status. He's more than happy to go back to his home in Italy and be waited on. However, he keeps that to himself, because he knows appearances mean everything. He's not going to let himself be ostracized for saying the wrong thing. BLAISE understands there is a delicate game to be played and if he has to appear sympathetic to a cause, then so be it.

BLAISE has never had an house elf at home. THE ZABINIS do not believe in the enslavement of anyone. They pay their maids and butler fair wages.

BLAISE DIONYSUS ZABINI was the only son born to APHRODITE ZABINI, a witch that is part veela and known for her remarkable beauty. She only had the one son but raised her twin brother’s son, ADONIS ZABINI. DIONYSUS died during the first war and his baby mother was never in the picture. Losing her brother to a war she hated made her incredibly protective of her boys. BLAISE’S father has never been specifically announced to him, there is whispers in the magical community about who it is. Despite APHRODITE’S attempts, the man knows his true lineage. BLAISE has always known about his mother and who his father really is. APHRODITE refuses to speak about the young man who got her pregnant and left and will deny knowing anything about him. But he went behind her back to do digging of his own when he noticed a few kids looked like him at a party they attended when deciding what school he would attend. He almost ended up at UAGADOU, but at the last minute (when the Potions teacher was introduced), his mother decided HOGWARTS was a better fit, even if everyone else disagreed. He's so close to his mother, he refuses to hurt her feelings or bring up painful memories, but he knows he is related to BABAJIDE AKINGBADE, as the resemblance is striking. However,  he knows if he confronts her, it'll destroy the image she's built for him. And in the end, it doesn't matter because he's a ZABINI but he does wonder what having a father might have been like. Even then, his mother spoiled him and ADONIS, but she protected them as well. 

APHRODITE couldn’t care less about the wars and everything being fought. She was a pureblood, Italian and most of all, she thought they was above it all. She was neutral, but seems to come off as Death Eater because of who their friends are. So when things got more intense, BLAISE & ADONIS were not allowed to take the mark or even try it. She had lost her better half due to the nonsense and she couldn’t lose her boys as well. So when his friends joined and BLAISE tried, his mother refused to let him join in. He absolutely tried and she read him the riot act: "We're not better because of our blood. We're better because we're Zabinis." She was not  afraid to let them know that before they died protecting something as unimportant as bloodlines, she would take them out. If your friends jump off a bridge, are you going to follow them too? Despite that, Blaise is still good friends with Nott and Malfoy during school. He does not enter the war however though he leans towards them. Both boys asked her opinion, both never asked again after they got thoroughly cussed out. Going to HOGWARTS was a chance to be free and BLAISE was a whore, proudly so and used sex as a way to avoid any connections with people. The person he wanted to be with was heads over heels in love with DRACO MALFOY, another friend of his. PANSY PARKINSON and him had a history, they slept together and that was all it was on her end. He was someone fun to fuck when she wasn’t chasing DRACO. He knew that often bothered THEODORE, who had to hear all of his stupid rambling about the girl. He never said out loud he was in love with her, but his best friend knew.

6TH YEAR changed a lot for the male, he spent most of the year trying to help DRACO, avoid trouble and making sure he appeared as sympathetic as possible to the cause that seemed to be at the heart for most Slytherins. BLAISE recognized how important appearances were. Even if his mother didn’t like it. She always told them no to stuff with the likes of Malfoy and other known death eater children, not afraid to let them why. While she attended the social events, the boys were with her and she kept a close eye on them. However in order to make sure that the families didn’t influence them or make the boys engage in behaviors she didn’t want, there were no sleepovers outside her home or allowing them to go to parties. Of course both boys snuck and did some things, but were respectful for the most part of her wishes, especially ADONIS, who seemed not to have the pull to the people APHRODITE didn’t want them around. BLAISE became stuck between a rock and a hard place when 7th year returned. His family was ITALIAN and he didn’t have to go to HOGWARTS. ADONIS had graduated 3 years ago and it wasn’t like his life in ITALY was boring. His family were deep into the MINISTRY OF MAGIC there and he could use that. However, he choose to return to school, not wanting to abandon DRACO, THEO & PANSY. Only he got there and found only 2 out of the 3 had returned. He busied himself trying to take care of the younger Slytherins by being fun BLAISE. However, he hated being there. He hated a war ripping everyone apart. He saw what it was doing to ASTORIA, someone he had had a sibling type relationship with, a gentle soul and there was nothing he could do. As things got worst, HE RAN. APHRODITE made an excuse and before the battle happened at school, he was back in ITALY.

After the war, he didn’t immediately return to the UNITED KINGDOM. Instead, he went to AMERICA. He kept in contact with his friends, but he was haunted by the movies of that place. He opened several adult clubs with the money given to him. APHRODITE married 10 times before she decided that marriage was a young people game and she decided to keep a string of lovers half her age and to run her own business. All her husbands died mysteriously but no one could prove if it was her or just the series of unfortunate accidents that seemed to meet them. Taking their family money, even if it wasn’t the MALFOY wealth, and adding on with the money she got from each husband, APHRODITE soon was one of the richest widows in the community. She put her money into her own business. It started off as a matchmaker service for the elite magical community and expanded to a phone application. Both are hugely successful, the app having both a magical and muggle base. Think Tindr and Grindr, aptly named WANDR. APHRODITE is the chairman of her company and keeps a hand in everything, even if she’s retired from the day to day. BLAISE is the CEO of the companies and the businesses. 

When BLAISE finally returned to the UK, he was married to his wife ZENIA. They had their son, DIONYSUS as well as a few more kids. However, he never really got over his first love. If PANSY has a problem, he went ti her. Even if his wife hated it, he always felt he had let her do and had to go to her. He was spending a lifetime making up for leaving her behind. He could have tried harder to get her to come with him, but he didn’t. He simply left her. There hasn’t been any sex between them, BLAISE is faithful to his wife physically. However emotionally, there’s a part of him that he can’t fully give to his wife. Not even if he wanted to, and he desperately wants to. He wants to give her everything, but he can’t and he knows that is his fatal flaw. He can spoil his kids, his wife and give them the world, but the one question reminds for him, WHAT IF SHE HAD LOVED ME LIKE I LOVED HER?

APPLICATION

❝ I remember I was 18. Money, pussy, parties, I was on the same thing. You gotta give a boy a chance to grow some. ❞ Merlin’s beard, what is ( BLAISE ZABINI ) doing out at this hour? For a ( PUREBLOOD ) who is ( 46 ) years old, ( HE ) really ought to know better. You know, I hear that they’re aligned with ( THE DOUBLE AGENTS ), but that could be just a rumor. I do know that they’re ( MALE ) and a ( SLYTHERIN ) alum who works as a ( CEO ) though. They’re very ( CHARMING ) and ( AMBITIOUS ) but also quite ( MANIPULATIVE  ) and ( PESSIMISTIC ), which could be why they remind of ( DARK WHISKEY POURED OVER ICE, ITALIAN SILK SUITS, BURNING FIRES AND GOLD FRAMED MIRRORS. FLASHING LIGHTS, NAKED WOMAN, CRUMPLED SHEETS. FANCY MEALS, CLASSICAL MUSIC MIXED WITH TUPAC, PAPERS SPILLED OVER HIS DESK. LATE NIGHT ARGUMENTS, THROWN PHONES AND GUILT GIFTS ). Some people say they’re the spitting image of ( IDRIS ELBA  ), but I’ve never heard of them. Word on the street is that they’re ( THE TEMPEST ) and their prophecy is ( PROPHECY 26 ), but only time will tell if that’s true or not. [ A, 28, SHE/HER, EST ]

#*( you ignore the sound of my voice all the time )* headcanons #rev intros

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Rebekahdarian93!

*****

Repentance To Reconciliation

The waiting room to Dr. Riley’s office is all cheap wood paneling and the original chairs from the nineteen-sixties when a real doctor graced the premise. The receptionist shakes her head before taking another drag of her cigarette. A haze develops on her plexiglass window.

“Mr.-” Stiles is used to the hesitation before someone butchers his name. He walks over to the nurse and she flashes the top of the file at him so he can read the name. It’s his.

“Just call me Stiles.”

“Alright, Stiles. We’ll just take your vitals then the doctor will see you.” The nurse is kind as she directs him to sit down. It almost feels like he’s in a real doctor’s office instead of a soul dealer.

“One. Two. Breath Out.” She pokes him with the butterfly needle but nothing comes out. “Hard poke?”

“Something like that.” In all reality, only phlebotomists from the bottom of the barrel programs are desperate enough for such seedy employment. “Try my wrist. Sometimes that works.” She unwraps a new needle.

“One. Two. Deep Breath.” The needle goes in and soon the blood is running through the tube. “Would you like to donate any while we have the needle in you.” Stiles is very queasy about his blood leaving his body and this conversation is not helping.

“Can’t do that. Ex-Boyfriend. Four months ago.” He can only say short sentences without puking.

“Oh. Our little secret? We both know those pesky laws are so outdated.” Stiles is not going to give to an illegal blood bank. (Even if it means an extra hundred bucks.)

“No. I just want the money I came here for.” Her demeanor suddenly changes. She rips the needle out a little to forcefully before applying a bandage making sure it stings.

“The doctor will be with you in a moment. We’ll send this into the database. Expect a call in about a week.” The door slams leaving him alone.

***

Thirty minutes later, Stiles leaves the clinic with a few hundred dollars in his pocket. Now to turn that money over to his landlord because he’s already a week late on rent.

When the technology to find your soulmate first came out it was seen as dignified and a small price to pay for ultimate happiness. That was years ago. As regulations became stricter “soul doctors” went underground. Now the practice is seen as trashy. You give up your identity and a little bit of blood and they give you results as to who your soulmate is and some money. Most people do it for the money, not the promise of happiness. That was Stiles’s reasoning. It’s tough being a college student. Especially after your much more financially stable fiancé breaks up with you.

Stiles puts in the code to the apartment building before taking the stairs two at a time. The heat gave out again. He can feel it in the air. As he unlocks the door to the apartment he shares with his best friend, Scott, he can hear the familiar sounds of his neighbor getting it on through the wall. Scott throws him a blanket and an extra pair of headphones before going back to the book he’s reading. “Thanks, but I’m going to clean up.” He digs out the money putting in on the coffee table before going to take a shower.

Wrapped in the blanket he sits on the counter waiting for the water to warm up as he listens to his ex-fiancé rhythmically fuck another dude. Yes, the annoying neighbor is Stiles’s ex, Derek.

It’s been four months since he called it quits out of the blue. The night before they were watching a movie. Everything seemed great.

***

Derek grips his coffee mug like it’s the only thing grounding him. When Stiles walks into the kitchen he’s none the wiser to his inner turmoil. That is until he sees his fiancés face.

“What’s wrong, Der.”

“I don’t think this is going to work. I think we should break this off.” 

The Hello Kitty mug formerly in Stiles hand breaks in two as it hits the hard linoleum floor.

“Shit. Why?” Stiles is only half paying attention as he tries to mop up the mess.

“I don’t want to go through with marrying someone who’s not my soulmate.”

“Soulmates? What about soulmates?”

“We’re not. You’re not my soulmate.” 

That’s when it sinks in. This isn’t cold feet.

It’s a breakup.

“I’ll be leaving now. Fuck you I guess.”

***

A month after that Stiles and Scott started renting a new apartment for the next year of college seeming unaware that Derek was soon to move in next door in an attempt to find a new normal. Derek refused to move and Stiles and Scott were too poor to move.

Soon the parade of men started. It felt like practically a man a night. That’s not bad if one isn’t living next to their ex, yet Derek very much is.

Stiles sighs and hops in the shower. In a sick and twisted way, he finds comfort in the sounds because it means familiarity. A pathetic familiarity.

***

A week later Stiles drops by the clinic to get the final results. In exchange for some paperwork saying that they can do absolutely as they please with the part of his soul that they took, he’s given an envelope with the name and address of his soulmate.

When on the bus he opens the package.

Derek Hale

As soon as Stiles’s eyes drop to the name he feels sick. It can’t be the same person.

Sundale Apartments 1563 Cardon St. Apt. 2D It definitely is the same person.

His soulmate lives in the apartment beside him.

His soulmate is his ex.

Fuck.

***

After walking the block from the bus stop to the apartment building Stiles takes the stairs two at a time like every day but tonight seems more urgent in a way. Instead of opening 2E like every other day he knocks on 2D.

No answer.

He knocks again. “Open up, Derek. We need to talk.” Finally, there’s shuffling inside and the bolt lock being undone. When the door opens Derek is clothed in only a pair of sweatpants. A pair that Stiles bought him last year for Christmas.

“You better not have a Grindr hookup in here.” Derek only silently motions around to prove that he’s alone.

Stiles shoves the envelope in his face. “What-”

“Just read it.” Derek looks at all sides of the envelope before pulling the letter out.

“Looks like you finally got low enough on money to sell your soul.”

“Not all of us can have a cushy job and an inheritance from all their dead relatives.” Stiles wants to bite back the last part. “Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry. Why are you freaking out about this?”

“Because you lied to me, asshole. You broke off our engagement saying that we weren’t soulmates when we were.”

Derek sighs. “Come in. We need to talk.”

When Derek closes the door behind them Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s home. The thought leaves as quickly as it arrives. They sit down on the couch.

“Explain.” Stiles’s voice is cold and to the point.

“I was scared.”

“You should have talked to me.”

“I didn’t want to burden you.”

“So instead you broke my heart. Noted.”

Their volley of rebuttals could go on for hours.

“Stiles. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that but it’s in the past.” Derek reaches out to take his hand but Stiles pulls back.

“I’m reminded of it every single day. You’re a terror on my life.”

“You think I don’t think the same about you. I have to hide every time I almost bump into you in the mailroom. I only do my laundry at odd hours of the night because I know I won’t see you. Sometimes I miss your cute snoring so I just stay awake listening to you through the wall. You’re the only thing on my mind all the time and I hate it. I hate how I’m still desperately in love with you.” 

Stiles doesn’t protest as Derek leans forward capturing his lips. They fall back into how they were before the breakup. Years of practice pushing and pulling comes back to them.

That is until they hear Scott coming home next door. Stiles breaks the kiss.

“Fuck you. You can’t just kiss me and think everything will be cool between us.”

“Then what can I do?”

“I want to get back together, but we need to build this up from scratch. I’ll give you three weeks of us being a couple. We’ll go on three dates. One date a week. No fucking other guys. We’re completely committed to each other and If after those three weeks we realize we’re not in love we’ll never mention this soulmate thing and we’ll go our separate ways. If we realize we do love each other the engagement is back on.”

There’s absolutely no hesitation before Derek says one simple word. “Deal.”

Week One-The Repentance

*** Scott thinks Stiles is an absolute idiot. Just four months before he was supplying his best friend with Ben and Jerry’s after Derek shattered his heart, but now Scott is supposed to just let him hurt Stiles again with zero consequences? Stiles only rebuttal has been, “I’m fine.”

Stiles really is fine in a why-am-i-totally-not-fine kinda way. He should have never made that proposition to Derek but he was lonely and mad, and a little horny. It seemed right at the time. When he gets home from work he decided he’ll just tell Derek that he can’t do this. (Oh, the sweet irony.) That is until he opens up his apartment to put away his bag and see Derek in his kitchen. Stiles keeps enough composure to not drop his overpriced Starbucks on the ground but he’s still practically hyperventilating on the inside.

It’s not just Derek in his apartment or the fact that Scott lounges on the couch seemingly okay with this. It’s also the frilly pink apron Derek is wearing as he bops around listening to Britney Spears. “What are you doing?”

“Making cookies.”

“You never baked while we were together.”

“It’s a new hobby. Come here.” Stiles creeps forward unsure of what’s about to happen. Is this a trick?

Instead of doing anything vile Derek places a chaste kiss on his lips. “How was your day?”

“Terrible. A kid puked on me.” Derek looks him up and down. “I changed my clothes.”

“Oh. That’s what happens sometimes when working with children.” Stiles was going to school to be a preschool teacher. Most people thought it was weird but he enjoyed the little kids. That’s also what led him to get a part-time job at a daycare.

“Yeah, it is.” He takes a cookie from the cooling rack. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

Stiles proceeds to have a freakout while sitting on the ground in the shower for a solid hour.

Derek is being way too nice. He’s not normal.

***

Tonight is the night of their first date. Tuesdays always seemed like a weird day to go on a date but it’s one of the two days Stiles has off work. (The other being Sunday and it’s just weird to go on a date on a Sunday.)

It’s very much weird that Derek is “picking him up” for this date since they live next door to each other. Regardless Stiles pushes that out of his mind as he opens the door to Derek holding red roses. It’s exactly like the beginning to half of Stiles’s wet dreams.

“Thank you.” Stiles takes the bouquet and goes to find something to use as a vase. He settles on a taco bell cup. When he turns around, Derek is behind him. “Oh fuck. I forgot about your sneaking powers.” Derek laughs before kissing him. “We need to get going so we don’t miss our reservation.”

***

The restaurant that Derek has picked is nice. Like 80-dollar-lobster nice. It freaks Stiles out knowing that whatever he eats will be more than his weekly paycheck.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Of course. You deserve the most expensive meal in the world, my love.”

“Okay. If you insist.”

The rest of the night they catch up. Stiles finds out about Derek’s promotion he got about a month ago and Derek congratulates Stiles on passing his midterm in Educational Law. They’ve slipped back into the old way. Other than Derek’s chipper mood both could believe they had never broken up.

***

By Friday Stiles is ready to confront Derek. It’s not that he doesn’t like being treated like royalty but Derek has never been happy for the sake of being happy. He’s loving and kind but you’ll get your coffee with a frown and a kiss on the cheek. Not a full-blown smile.

He seems fake.

Derek had picked him up from work. Stiles breaks the air with a simple question.

“Why are you acting weird.”

“There’s nothing weird about me.”

“You’re not yourself. You’re smiling.”

“I can smile if I want.”

“We dated for three years and you were always grumpy. I expected it and I loved it.”

Derek sighs. “I just wanted you to like me.”

“And you’re plan was to freak the shit out of me. Noted.”

“I’m trying to make up for hurting you. The roses and cookies and Starbucks is just my way of trying to make it up to you.”

“Well, I like all that, but don’t smile. It’s weird.” Derek takes his hand squeezing it.

Week Two-The Familiar

***

Their second date is more simple. 

They go to the movies (and make out in the back) then go out for ice cream. While Stiles is intent on licking up all the melted ice cream before it drips on his hand Derek says in his very serious way, “So I have a work event next week and I want to take you as my date.”

“Are you sure about that?” Chocolate trickles down the soggy cone.

“Absolutely. We are dating?”

“Yeah, but two weeks ago you were single then you show up and are like, ‘Hey, meet my fiance. He’s also my soulmate. This totally isn’t weird.’”

“Well, I don’t care. They can judge if they want, but it’s our life.”

The rest of the week passes in sleepy mornings and takeout in the evenings. 

hat week was reminiscent of their last week together before. Week Three- Downfall and Reconciliation

***

Stiles suit feels weird and stuffy. He doesn’t even really know what constitutes such formal attire for a business party but he went with it when Derek told him to wear it. While Stiles looks like he’s still an awkward teenager Derek looks like a model with his suit tailored in all the right ways.

Instead of worrying, Stiles takes another champagne flute downing it like a shot. He’s not wine drunk. He’s fully drunk. Derek comes up to him and rubs his back in a gesture of im-so-very-sorry. “We’ll go soon. I just have to talk to someone first.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be right here.” Stiles reaches for another glass of wine when Derek stops him.

“You’ve had enough, babe. When we get home I’ll make you some pancakes to lessen your alcohol poisoning.” Stiles ignores the loving insult opting instead to focus on the fact that pancakes sound really good. Derek kisses his cheek before walking away.

As he’s leaning against a pillar observing the ballroom Stiles notices Derek talking to an equally as handsome man. The man leans in and whispers something in Derek’s ear causing him to crack a smile. Stiles takes a few steps closer out of curiosity.

“Come on Derry. Let’s skip this joint and get up to some fun.”

“Fuck off, Brad. I have a boyfriend. It’s over.”

“It doesn’t have to be. What he doesn’t know-”

“What he doesn’t know is none of your business. There’s two people in my relationship and you’re not one of them.”

“Maybe you should dump him then. You two might have history but we have chemistry.”

“I said no.”

“One night.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Great. You just tell me when.” Stiles is heartbroken as he retreats back so the pair doesn’t know he’s been listening.

Derek walks up to him. “You’re officially free from this boring party. We’ll go now.”

“I’m calling an Uber. You can go home alone.”

“We live right next to each other.” Derek laughs at the absurdity of Stiles’s insistence. “I’m more than capable of driving you home.”

“But do you really want to go home with me or would you prefer Brad.” He spits out the douchebag name like venom.”

“Fucking, god. He’s just some guy I had sex with once or twice.”

“Yet you told him you’d be down for another time.��� Stiles pulls out his phone. “Ordering my Uber right now. Leave.”

Derek bites his lip so he doesn’t say anything cruel yet he still does. “I can’t argue with you right now. You order your Uber and go ahead and overdraw your bank account because we both know you don’t have the money.”

“I’ll just sell my soul again. Maybe next time I’ll actually get someone who loves me.”

***

They don’t talk for three days. There’s also no strange Grindr hookups next door.

Everything is just silent.

Then on day four, Derek knocks on the door. Scott has the sense to know that maybe letting him in will end the mess, so he does.

When Derek appears in the doorframe of Stiles’s bedroom he gets a book thrown at him. He concludes that he deserves it.

“Can we talk?”

“Will it get you to go away faster?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll allow it.”

Derek gently perches on the edge of the bed careful as to not touch Stiles. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than that.”

“I know. I’m sorry about what you heard. I swear I was never going to take him up on his offer but it’s easier to let him have the upper hand than to stand there and argue all night.”

“Block him.”

“What? I need his number for work reasons.”

“You both should have thought of that before being horny dicks.” Derek knew that Stiles had a point. 

He pulls out his phone and starts thumbing through the contacts. “I want to do it.” Derek hands over his phone and Stiles blocks Brad’s number.

“Are we cool now?”

“No. We never addressed why you broke up with me in the first place.”

“I told you I was scared.”

“That could mean a million things.”

“Fine. I’ve always feared commitment. I’ve lost so many people that I love that I feel I’m a danger. Being around me is basically a death sentence.”

“Everyone dies. It’s better if you have someone to love.”

“Also I feel like marriage is a trap. Not that I’m going to be trapped but that I’m trapping you in a life you’ll hate.”

“I said yes to you for a reason. I wanted to take the risk.”

“I’m just scared of commitment because no one has been committed to me. I’m scared that soulmates are a scam and in twenty years we’ll both be miserable.”

“There’s no one else I want to be miserable with.”

“You’re really not going to say no.”

“I’m really not.”

As they kiss they realize that maybe soulmates are a scam but their love is real.

#Rebekahdarian93 #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

[ultraterrestrialstars]

personal post about social isolation, pay no attention

Isolation is difficult sometimes.  I live with my best friend, and he currently isn’t working, but he’s always here and I’m never truly alone on any day.  I also have 3 animals.  Yet lately, especially when he goes out of town -- as he is currently -- I struggle with the reality that I really have no one I can message or call to keep me company, talk to, or really interact with at all.  I didn’t even hear from my own mother today even though I sent her a message.  She just didn’t read it.  My dad is busy lately, getting himself into an M.C. honorably called Hell’s Our Home, and my sister is presumably just as busy as my little brother.  I’m really disconnected from everyone -- family and former friends.  Part of it started as me isolating myself because of depression and my bipolar disorder and C-PTSD but now that I can and try to reach out, there’s really no one left.  I try to do kind things, connect with people, but something always fails. 

I brought this nice gentleman I work with a necklace tonight -- it’s a necklace with the continent of Africa as a pendant but its’ colored red, yellow, and green for his home country.  He’s a direct immigrant - still has a very thick African accent.  The other night he asked me why it seemed like people don’t like him.  There were so many answers I could have given but I didn’t know how to.  How can I explain that outsiders anywhere in America are isolated by their peers, mistreated by microaggressive behaviors?  I am one of those outsiders.  I’ve spent my whole life being first “that d*ke” or “she, he, it, or whatever it is” and now “that f*ggot” because of the way I talk and I “pass” as a cis-male.  So even in this new skin of the man I am, I still get isolated and I look like any typical white Iowan guy.  The only difference is that I talk like an encyclopedia or not at all.  Anyway, I’m going off on a tangent -- tonight, when I brought him the necklace I promised to bring him, his whole spirit glowed.  He was so happy.  And he called me brother.  He also constantly affirms “what a nice man” I am when we work together.  That’s the kind of connection and kindness I want in the world.

It feels frustrating to desire connection, but to have no true friendships anymore.  My family loves me but as I have always been just outside both of my families, I’ve always been isolated by them. My mother loves me dearly, but spends a majority of her time watching/hanging out with my eight year old nephew or my sister.  My little brother actually got a great paying job -- better than anything I have -- and he’s living about 4 hours away. 

I’ve passed the age where video games and tv shows keep me satisfied or keep me company.  I’ve been throwing myself into creative work and my second job and just trying to find some connection to the world.  I never know if I am missing it by the width of a hair or if I’m just not paying attention.

I need friends, but sometimes I want to be alone, too.  I don’t have friends that respect boundaries or time or ... friends that seem to have any time to be a friend.  Everyone my age is having children or getting married and just trying to get by.  This social isolation becomes a puzzle I can’t put together, because there’s no solution to it.   We live in a society more isolated than it ever has been with the advent of some social media.  I want to get involved somewhere, in some community, but any time I try to, it feels superficial.  Like joining a Twitch stream or trying to embrace any creative online community feels performative.  I even tried some of those stupid dating apps just to meet people but I always delete it.  On Grindr all I get are 60 year old men and dick pics, and any other app I delete it because it’s really just consumed by spam bots and people I’m not really interested in getting to know.

As we get older, I feel we must be looking for deeper, truer connections, but what if you’ve been deprived of many of those connections your entire life?  I’ve spent 30 years as an outsider.  I have no fucking idea how to make friends, how to make friends that are meaningful. 

I suppose the solution is to grin and bare it, try to connect when I can, but nights like tonight, when I have no one to talk to, no one to even look forward to talking to, I realize the depth and solidity of my social isolation.

#personal #ftm #queer #social isolation

[theboywiththepurplesocks]

Hmmmm...we need more scenes like this mani-pedi scene.

#Love Victor #I was not prepared for the 9 inch dicks comment regardless of it's validity #also these children need to get the fuck off grindr.

[kiruuuuu]

More recruitverse in which Ivan is actually nice! (Rating T, nothing but fluff, ~2.2k words) - written for @nutbrain​ because you inspire, encourage and support all those around you 💙💙

.

Ivan Ivanovic has been called blind countless times throughout his life, sometimes a variation like deaf or stupid, usually in relation to perceived obliviousness. He’s neither of the three yet sees no trouble in letting others believe he is – after all, their assumptions about him reveal more about their personalities than his.

He learnt early on that some of the facts taught to children in good faith are nothing but propaganda, a desirable yet unattainable outcome, merely a way to try and manipulate them into ‘goodness’. He’s unable to help everyone so he doesn’t, reduces the situations in which he could help to a simple cost and reward deliberation: when he notices Shay (who quite clearly has his heart in the right place even if his head isn’t on straight) hanging around with the wrong people, he doesn’t interfere; when Jojo gets bullied for something over which he has no control, he stays away; when Valenti becomes a regular scapegoat since he wants to fit in so badly he’d rather take the blame, he doesn’t speak up; and when Gian is alienated and called elitist behind his back because he refuses to partake in activities he feels are unfair to others, he ignores it. None of these scenarios were worth his meddling.

But he also got told that others would come to his aid. That humanity is inherently good. And while he remains conflicted on this notion, he must secretly believe it true or else he wouldn’t be fighting for them. Even so, he remembers digging his own grave by allowing everyone around him to share his happiness, the life he was building with her, and in the process undermined his own credibility. Because when he started telling others of her worrying behaviour, they waved it off. She was so nice, wasn’t she? He was lucky to have her, who cared if she wanted to go through his phone? He shouldn’t have anything to hide, right? And if he did, it was his own fault. And so, eventually no help came. Because he’d been happy so far, hadn’t he? He knew what she was like, and he was probably exaggerating anyway. He shouldn’t throw away years of happiness after one off day, everyone has those, she’s been under a lot of stress recently, right? No? Well, there must’ve been a reason and the reason can’t have been anything other than him.

And then Jojo wouldn’t go away, and he brought three others with him. And Gian listened with more compassion than any of Ivan’s friends and family had done. And Shay treated him as if they’d known each other since they were kids. And Valenti, who normally doubted all his achievements and frequently demanded proof, defended him viciously the moment someone outside of their group did it.

Helping anyone became a lot easier with these four idiots as pay-off.

So no, Ivan isn’t blind. He’d even call himself unusually perceptive, though he doesn’t often act on it which, he assumes, is the reason why his awareness gets insulted, and he doesn’t act on it as it oftentimes requires him to go out of his way for someone who generally isn’t worth his time or effort. But sometimes, the opposite is true.

.

“I got propositioned just now!”, Jojo announces sarcastically proud as soon as he’s breezed into their room, hair still wet from his shower and already wearing clothes fit for sleep.

“Did you reactivate your Grindr account?”, Gian wants to know, being quite aware of the fact that Jojo proclaimed never to use the app ever again, but seeing as it was the third outburst he’s had over it since they’ve known each other, none of them took him seriously. Gian and Valenti only just came back as well from some form of punishment outside, meaning they’re both shivering and dancing on the spot to warm up faster.

Ivan’s arms remember the feel of the Frenchman’s body between them and remind him sharply. He regrets the hug they shared, the entire odd moment really because it leaves him no peace. He thinks back to it at least three times a day and has since tried to stay away from Valenti – and if his presence is unavoidable, then he at least hasn’t touched him again.

“Fuck no, I’d rather rim the devil than go back to that endless void of horny middle-aged creeps.”

“Sounds like you have solid target group at least”, Ivan offers as half-hearted comfort and gets shown a finger in return.

“Tell us, Jojo, who was dumb enough to hit on you while you’re in a mood this rotten?”, Valenti joins their conversation, trying to rub some feeling back into his hands.

“My mood was perfectly fine before that douchenozzle macho fuckboy opened his stupid mouth.”

“Please, your mood has been rotten for days now.”

“That’s not bloody true, why would -”

Wordlessly, they all glance at Shay who’s stretched out on his top bunk, phone in hand and texting away blissfully with a smile on his face. He hasn’t even welcomed Jojo back, let alone acknowledged any of them since he’s started talking to Brittany half an hour ago. By now, even Thatcher must be aware of what’s going on yet the Irishman in their middle remains unsuspecting. He would deserve to be called blind.

“Anyway”, Jojo continues and they all seem relieved at him picking up the thread of the conversation once more, “I ran into Jacob Griffin-Worthington, and as the laws of nature dictate, with a name like Jacob Griffin-Worthington, he had no choice but to be a giant arsehole. So there I was, minding my own business, when Jacob Griffin-Worthington appeared out of nowhere and wanted to know how my love life was going. And I told him it was fantastic, I literally can’t stop sucking dick every free minute I have, so Jacob Griffin-Worthington -”

“I swear, if you say his full name one more time I’m going to tell him you’re crushing on him”, Valenti groans, much to Ivan’s amusement. There’s no love lost between Jacob and any of them.

“- so he who shall not be named suggested I kiss his ass in case my mouth would ever become available again and I said before I voluntarily touch any part of his body, I’d rather -”

Shay produces an odd sound, almost like choking, and this time he notices holding all their attention, looking both flustered and thrilled. “What? It’s nothing. Keep talking.”

“Are you alright?”, Jojo asks, concerned, because as much as he’s pissed off with his best friend for everybody to see, they’re still best friends.

“Yeah, it’s just – Brit just -” He trails off, looks at his phone screen again briefly and cradles it against his chest once more. “No, it’s fine. What were you talking about?”

“Did she send a nude?” Valenti must’ve noticed Shay’s bright red ears.

“Well, not quite, but – almost. She’s so pretty.” Another glance. The red darkens. “Jojo, do you want to see? I’m only showing Jojo, before you ask, everything else would be weird.”

“It’s weird enough showing me”, Jojo murmurs and rolls his eyes, “but alright. Let’s see the goods.”

And while the two stick their heads together to marvel at Shay’s girlfriend at the one end of the room, Valenti and Gian exchange a few exasperated looks at the other. For the moment, Ivan returns to tapping away at his phone, learning all about castling while simultaneously keeping his ears open for fragments of conversations in case anything interesting comes up again.

“Did you not own a scarf?”, Gian addresses Valenti questioningly.

“Ah, curses, you’re right. If it’s gone, Bandit must’ve taken it. I’m telling you, we need to take him down, truce or not, he offered me another brownie the other day and I bet it wasn’t a normal one.”

“Perhaps we could try to endeavour not to instigate trouble for which we suffer the same consequences as Bandit does for his pranks.”

“So what you’re saying is: we shouldn’t get caught again.”

Gian’s deep sigh doesn’t cover up Shay’s quiet ‘you smell nice’ to Jojo and if Ivan wasn’t already busy googling something all of a sudden, he’d attempt to send Jojo some telepathic sympathy.

.

Getting away from the others isn’t difficult for Ivan, he merely needs to threaten with additional exercise and they drop out, and even on the occasions Valenti doesn’t, he can tire him out easily and then sneak away while the Frenchman is busy trying to breathe. He rarely makes use of this way to distance himself, yet sometimes needs a bit of time alone without having to justify himself and sometimes just so he can browse the shops in town. Wholly being in charge of his own income is a relatively new concept to him and so he makes a few purchases just because he can. He knows Valenti caught a look at some of his animal socks at some point and watching him struggle with himself about whether or not he should bring them up was extremely entertaining.

In this case, he makes a trip to buy something specific and then pretends to go for a late run that same evening, instead seeking out the only operator in Rainbow of whom he’s certain to receive assistance.

“You’re a recruit, no?”, Zofia asks him as soon as he’s gotten her attention.

“Yes. Ivan Ivanovic. I need your help.”

Admitting it to her is daunting. She possesses a strong presence as well as confidence and reminds him of two women in his life, none of whom he’d like to ever meet again. But where they abused their power over him, Zofia listens to his request willingly, asks a few questions and eventually agrees with a kind smile. Most operators neither have the time nor the patience to deal with any of the recruits’ problems, not even necessarily out of malice – Ivan understands it all too well and therefore doesn’t hold it against them, but it means he appreciates what Zofia’s doing even more. She wants to know why he came to her specifically and laughs when he reveals she just seems the right person for the job, like someone who has the skills he requires.

She goes out of her way to teach him, inspects his work readily and even meets with him secretly during the day for more encouragement. He vows to find out more about her interests so he can pay her back accordingly, but for the moment he’s busy with other things.

.

“Sounds like we’re meeting her tomorrow”, Jojo says over his shoulder as he enters and Ivan makes a conscious effort to arrange his expression into something neutral so he doesn’t give anything away. “Hey, Ivanko, have you heard? Shay wants us to meet his beautiful girlfriend with the differently-sized tits tomorrow.”

“Be nice to her”, Valenti warns him as they swarm out and gather a few supplies in preparation of going out again. “And for heaven’s sake, don’t mention her boobs.”

“Or what, Gian’s going to write me a very stern letter? If she’s a bitch, I’m gonna fling shit back at her. Not that Shay would ever be interested in a bitch, but just in case.”

“Well, he’s friends with you”, comes the mumbled answer which startles a chuckle out of Ivan. Valenti shoots him a quick smile before finally taking notice of the object lying on the blanket of his top bunk. “Oh, what is this?”

“The last fucking thread holding my patience together”, Jojo grumbles in response but looks over nonetheless, squints at the fabric Valenti picks up. Rich dark red is cascading over his hands and nearly reaches the floor on both sides, the material soft yet thick wool. “Looks like a scarf.”

“I recently lost mine, but – Ivan, was this here when you came in?”

He’s hesitant to make eye contact in case he gives himself away but needn’t have worried as Valenti’s attention is still focused on the cloth he’s holding. “Yes”, he says simply.

“Huh. Then I have no idea where it came from. You didn’t buy this for me, did you, Jojo?”

“I would’ve gotten you something more stylish and you know it. Maybe in purple.”

“But this is my favourite colour. I think only Gian knows it is, but I don’t think he can knit. It looks hand-made.”

“Yeah, whatever, just put it on and quit whining about the cold. Do we have everything? Ivanko, you want to watch us ruin our complexion by planting face-first in the snow with our improvised sleighs?”

“Always.” He closes the game app and gets up to put his jacket on, trying not to let his satisfaction show upon seeing Valenti wrapping himself in the scarf with a content expression.

“It’s really warm”, he announces and sinks deeper into the several layers, “and it smells good. Forget whoever might’ve lost it, it’s mine now. Let’s go.”

And while the two lead, rekindling the discussion about Shay’s girlfriend, Ivan follows them with a smile.

#rainbow six siege #recruitverse #ivan/valenti #even if it's light it's there! #fanfic #all the torture jojo has to go through #shay would probably ask him to help send a visual reply #iykwim #also valenti would never suspect ivan #he's not even on the list of suspects

[lifeofanadultsucks]

Fuck.

Hey there my nonexistent readers. I hope all is well in your world. I know I have been off the radar for a while, but I am back. My goal for 2019 is to post more, it is never too late to get started on a goal.

Okay, today’s topic is a topic that comes up quite often in conversations with my friends. The topic for today is DATING! Yup, good old fashion dating. Please do not get confused, this is not about love or relationships, this is about the search in finding that person.

Last week, I was having a conversation with a friend, who happens to be gay, and he said that dating as a gay man is difficult and that women have it easy in the dating. In this conversation, he argued that gay men that do not have the nicest body or this certain “look” then it is harder to find a man. Being gay and single by the time you are 30, just means you are going to end up alone. He is gay and he is 27, so he still has some years.  Keep in mind, my friend is not ugly, he has an average body, and in my eyes he is dateable. I understand his pain, and, trust, I know his frustration. I was about to sympathize until he said, “Women have it so much easier when it comes to dating.” 

That was my exact face followed by a “bitch what”. That comment alone got me thinking.

I have been single for the past 7 years. My last and only adult relationship happened and ended when I was 21. We were only together for roughly three months and kept in contact for about 6 months. Contact=sex.  I am not going to go into the logistics of why we broke up, just know I was really heartbroken when we called it quits. Listen, you cannot be with me and not tell me you have a wife and boyfriend...yeah...broke my damn heart. He was a class A asshole. Anyway, I have been single for quite some YEARS and the older you get, the harder it becomes to find someone.

There are numerous ways to meet people online, there is Tinder, OkCupid, Plenty of Fish, Zoosk, Match, Eharmony, FarmersOnly, Black People Meet, Christian Mingle, Grindr, and the list goes on. So you would think with all of these sites meeting someone would come easy right? WRONG!! It is so fucking hard to get a date, I am being dead ass serious. I meet guys online all the time, but our conversation never goes past the second or third day. I can’t even get a guy to go to dinner for conversation and drinks. Fuck dinner, I can't even get drinks. I have been in the dating game for 7 years, I have been on a handful of dates, majority bad, a few okay, and a great deal of no shows. I know all about being single and almost 30.

Let me say this before I proceed, there is nothing wrong with being single. There are times when I enjoy it. I love my freedom. I love just doing what I want when I want. I enjoy discovering who I am and I want I want both in and out of a relationship. I am not going to lie, being single has its perks. It is nice. I know some people in a relationship who loved to be single. I understand that 100%. I enjoy my time, but I wouldn't mind sharing my time with someone.

After that conversation with my male friend, I started talking to another friend of mine who happens to be on an online dating app called Hinge. I told her about the conversation I just had about dating. Like me, she agreed that dating for a female is also difficult. It wasn't until our conversation that I realized, “I am lonely as fuck.” I am serious. I have been single for 7 years. In that time frame, I have had friends have multiple relationships, have a relationship, get engaged, get married, and have children. No focusing on the order, the matter of the fact is they have accomplished. In my love life, I long list of one night stands and random hookups plus one shitty ass two-month relationship. And yeah, I am almost 30. In that area of my life, I have nothing to show for it but some wild stories that will make my mom disown me. I am sorry mom,  but thank for reading.

Let me see if I can explain this correctly- it always sounds so good in my mind.

There is this curve or this timeline in which things happen that shows that you are #winning a life. By the age of 25, I should have established a relationship, have my own place, graduated college with a 4-year degree, be supporting myself, working a good job, preparing to be a mom, or having a dream of being a mom. At 25, I accomplished none of those things. Okay, I might have one of those things: a 2-year instead of a 4-year.

By the time I am 30, I should be established in a career, a loving girlfriend or wife, have plans of marriage, have children or desire children, children should be somewhere in my future, have my own place, and support myself.

I am hoping to have at least one of those goals completed by the time I am 30. I cannot begin to tell you my frustration with this curve. I see people on Facebook or Instagram posting their happy relationships and their cute children, and it makes me miserable. I could be okay if I were just casually dating for fun or hell just dating. But I have none of that. I have no boyfriend, no one I am talking to, or hell a “friend” that is a nonsexual partner but there is mad chemistry between us. Hell, it would be easier if I had a strong friend group- I do not even have that.

Am I the only one that feels like this? 27 and lonely. I do not have guys texting me. Oh, and online gets weird as FUCK. I can’t even a guy to grab a drink with me. The act of trying to date is frustrating. I used to have this friend that would tell me, “girl, just play the game”. I would respond with a “no, this is bullshit. If I do not put out right away I am a prude, if I put out too early then I am a hoe.” Sometimes there is no pleasing these men. Wait...do not let me have an opinion and feel strongly about a subject, then I am a bitch who needs to tone it down. I had a female friend of mine tell me that. She told me that I am abrasive and I need to tone it down. If I recall, she is still single.

With all of this being said, I was just wondering if I was the only one feeling like this? Older adults ask me all the time if I am married or dating, and when I tell them no, they say things like, “why are you single, you’re so pretty.” BITCH, I DO NOT KNOW, YOU THINK I WANTED TO BE SINGLE FOR 7 YEARS. Oh, my favorite is the “you’re single, you don’t get it.” I wanted to slap the shit out of that old lady when she said that. Or the question of “where is your ring?”. Shit like that gets under my fucking skin.

You think I want to be single. Wake up alone. Sit around the weekends. Do you think I like going out alone all the time? NO. That shit gets annoying. It does. I would love to take cute couples pictures, go on vacations, or meet the family. Hell, I would like to get cute and go on a date.

See how social media works. People post a photo and it makes 800  people wish they had something of that nature. Oh, online dating does nothing for me. Absolutely nothing. It frustrates me. Dating in general frustrates. How dating is portrayed in movies and mainstream frustrates. No one is offering to hook me up. Or I am not falling for my best friend’s brother--I am taking applications for a best friend, DM for details. I am just saying. Dating is hard as fuck. It does not discriminate if you are gay, straight, or Bi. It does not matter.

Dating fucking sucks! It is the absolute worst. If there was someway to make it easier would be great. Seriously. This curve of accomplishment is bullshit. I mean fuck the system. But can how can you say fuck the system when you’re still lonely. Damn. I just have to know, am I the only one who feels this way? 

#dating #single #adulthood #gay #straight #bi #relationships #black girl #alone #lonely #reading #questions #interesting #friendship #goal #system #babies #marriage #7 years

[jusadode-blog]

Absolutely post your loneliness essay (if you haven't already and I just missed it) I'd love to read it!

Anon, sorry it took me like a day and a half to respond, but here’s the essay! It’s about three or four pages long single-spaced in 12pt font, so it’s probably closer to five pages in total.

It’s not a perfect paper, but like I had this major revelation in therapy while discussing gay loneliness and issues in the LGBT+ community as a whole versus strictly gay issues. I kind of bounce around a lot and repeat myself, but I think majority of the points get across.

Thanks for dropping in Anon, I hope you enjoy!

CW’S: Aids mention, E.D. mention, and a LOT of discussion of hyper sexuality.

Okay,so we always use the joke-term “useless lesbian” because it’sstereotyped that lesbians haven’t been socialized to recognizeflirting due to internalized lesbophobia and similar stuff, and yetlesbians are far more likely to be able to maintain longer, and ormore romantic relationships than gay men especially during youngeryears (20’s) due to the fact gay culture is more aligned withhyper sexuality thanks to the lack of romantic socialization andgeneral hyper-masculizing culture of gay men. If in a city, Lesbianscan find older lesbians in their community and sort of have aninspiration to look to, whereas gay men almost never have an elder tolook towards (thanks to AIDs) and if they are often at odds sinceelder gay men and young gay men often end up battling because thecultural differences. Elder gay men know the value of community aftersurviving the epidemic, whereas younger gay men often simply have“friend groups”, and one night stands, as younger gays havealmost no idea what a future, wedding, marriage, or even theirelderly life could be due to simply never seeing their selves in sucha position. Younger gays often also tend to pick more hypersexualizedplaces for their social needs and community, which furthers issuesespecially as they age out of their twenties and still have notdeveloped romantic socialization. This leads to the issue where mostgays end up focusing so heavily on being sexually attractive, thatthey end up trying to find forms of masculinity in it linked towardsheterosexual masculinity.

This is why you’ll see shit on grindr like “no fats, noflamers” and shit because gay male culture is so focused on tryingto pass as having some form of hetero-passing form of masculinity(generally the sexual aspects, but also many other things) that we’reforcing ourselves to dehumanize our partners (both real andphotographic) into their most basic sexual elements. This is why gayerotica (not porn, but generally sexual photos, pinups, or gif sets)often slices up a photo of a man to just be torso and thighs,whereas lesbian erotica (not made for straight people that is) oftenfocuses on kissing and caressing. It’s the “male eye” but gay,which has the side effect of causing high levels of body dysmorphiaand E.D’s. in gay men, as well as causes major prejudice,isolation, and sometimes blatantly develops into full-on internalizedhomophobia and even blatant homophobia at times. I shit you not I’veknown at least three gay men who were against gay marriage.  Theytried to claim that they didn’t need it and it was just ‘theiropinion’, and I’m sitting here like Dylan (fake name), look, Iget you just wanna blow strangers in the bathroom cause that’s yourkink, but when you just state that as a gay person you don’t wantgay marriage, the conservatives that would bluntly kill you thefirst chance they get will use you as a tool to attack the gays whowant to be married.

And sure, the lesbian community isn’t squeaky clean itself, butthe focus of lesbian loneliness is entirely different from gayloneliness. Lesbians are lonely because they fear reaching out topartners at all, often trying to carefully maneuver between womensspaces as a non-threatening person due to the heavy stereotype of the“predatory lesbian”, whereas gay men are lonely because we’reconstantly grasping at any individual who’ll have us for a night,fulfilling only momentary needs and ultimately hypersexualizingourselves for quick consumption. Gay men try to empower their selvesthrough their sexuality and their sexualism, but ultimately thisleads to them to being alone and separated from the rest of thecommunity who focus on more romantic or identity-based aspects oftheir sexuality (As well as gay empowerment through sexualism is aslippery slope to misogyny, transphobia, and frequently racist). Butthis shit ain’t even just white-gay culture, it’s a thing a shitton of gay men go through regardless of ethnicity [however, there areprobably major differences between white-gay hypersexualization andgay-poc hypersexualization, but I’m frankly not educated enough toreally speak on that]. This has larger issues than just within thegay community then, because it affects other sexual and genderidentities by making popular LGBT+ environments hypersexual, whichhas been especially notable for causing issues with LGBT+ youth whocannot begin to join the community due to such until they’re 21.Since gay men are the most visible to the straight community, thehypersexualization that gay males empower their selves with become astereotype for all the LGBT+ community, followed up by within the gaycommunity once someone is not sexual-enough they are often outcastedor questioned on their queerness.

The thing is though, it’s not wrong to be sexual, nor is itwrong to be empowered by your sexualism, but it leaves many menshallow to their partners, and feeling alone which is the problemwhich becomes a cycle. You’re lonely, you swipe, you fuck, youleave, and you’re lonely again so you swipe again. Luckily most gaymen develop social skills to make friends despite this, and caneventually learn to have proper healthy relationships and a healthyrelationship with sexualism, but in the age of social media andtechnology where already most friendships are diluted it’s going tobecome far more challenging for gay men to function as sociallycompetent individuals. We’re often suffering from a hellish mix oftoxic masculinity and the battle for gay pride, and both of thesethings are at constant odds with each other due to gay masculinityhaving entirely different behaviors associated with it than heteromasculinity. You can be a hetero masculine individual without beingtoxic( look at Terry Crews) whereas you can still be a gay masculineindividual while being incredibly toxic (Shane Dawson is the onlyperson I can think of right now with a lot of toxic gay masculinitytraits, but he’s bisexual so his experience isn’t entirely thesame, but he’s still a good point of reference.). There’s countless of gay men who aren’t toxic, but it seems like the only ones who make it on TV or as Youtube stars are.

And this leaves us both at constant odds with ourselves, and ourcommunity. Gay men develop depression, sex addiction, drugdependence, E.D’s, body dysmorphia, and tons of other horrible shitbecause we’re constantly trying to objectify ourselves while stillgrasping onto the very same masculinity which almost got us to killourselves in our childhoods. We want to be proud of who we are, andmost of the time we can be, but we also want to be recognized asmen™, and we have trouble accepting that those two things justcan’t work together. Most gay men end up able to deal with itenough to find a long-term partner, to get married, and othertraditional senses of a happy and healthy romantic relationship, butwe have it so much more delayed than lesbians due to our lack ofromantic socialization. Men in general, regardless of sexuality, haveterrible romantic socialization heavily linked to toxic masculinityand hypersexualism, but gay men end up affecting the whole queercommunity with this, despite often adopting GNC behaviors in one wayor another. Gay men experience gender and gender roles entirelydifferent than hetero men, but often still try to find means toaccommodate it. Lesbians who experience this weird dissonance oftencan speak out about their issues with gender related directly tobeing a lesbian, as womanhood is often so heavily bent on traditionalhetero women romantic developments, but for some gay men even whenwe’re in full drag and using a different set of pronouns we’reoften still battling for masculinity. Most drag queens use drag as amethod to break out from gender for a short bit and to just expresssome aspect of their self they enjoy, they often are truly empoweredby this and can find communities and friends though it, and that’sthe sort of weird difference between GNC lesbians and GNC gays. GNClesbians can always be GNC, whereas GNC men are expected to wipe offtheir face eventually (both metaphorically and literally).

It’s not hopeless though, as larger communities are built andgay men learn at younger ages they can find different forms ofmasculinity in healthier methods, as well as they don’t need tosexualize their self to be gay and proud. Movies such as Love Simonwill help future generations know some aspects of at leastdreaming of romance, which will allow them to speak up and allowtheir community to humor such dreams. This will allow them to developromantic languages earlier on, which will then help them findhappier, healthier relationships, and ultimately normalize queerromances in more visible methods. I live for the day that I see gaymen holding hands and kissing each other softly, rather than oneslapping the other on the ass and giving a wink, as even though thatis a pretty happy thought the romance there is not one most gay menwill be able to facilitate throughout their life. The constant needfor sexualism in gay romances is isolating to non hyper-sexual gays, andfor those trying to imagine a romantic future. Young gay childrenneed to see older gays in calm, tender moments, such as cuddling,caressing, and doing silly daily things such as cooking or eatingwithout the constant need of sexualism. I have never in my life seentwo gay men hold each others hands casually, and that really messesme up when I try to imagine my future.  It’s a sort of weirdsituation where it seems like most gay men are living a “die young”life style since they can’t envision a future and want to have asmuch fun as possible, but then then they get to the “future” it’ssomething similar to being lost, and it’s almost as if everyphysical action I’ve seen between a gay couple has to have sexualundertones, and that’s not healthy for young gays to see that asthe only means of a “romantic” future. You can’t build arelationship off sex alone, and that’s the thing that’s tearingapart a lot of the gay community as we’re just so alone and sodesperate but we just don’t have the ability to develop furtherrelationships. Some of us will be fine without that, sexualempowerment through sexualism is still a valid thing for many people,but it’s not the answer for all. We need gay romance, not gay porn.[I won’t even begin to start on bury your gays troupes]

Now for the record, this is not meant to completely explain orapply to more complex situations such as homoromantic asexuals orhomosexual aromantics, or trans/nonbinary individuals, as those comewith a lot more situations which arise. As a trans-gay man, myexperience with gay loneliness is even more complicated as I am evenfurther isolated from the community and have a higher-risk ofdeveloping toxic ideas of masculinity. This post does not even beginto touch on the issues of bisexuals, pansexuals, or aroaces, as theyhave different cultures than gay or lesbian cultures despiteoverlapping heavily on many parts. There are also no considerations for job-oriented dreams, or experience-related dreams (I.E. traveling the world, moving, etc.) There is no consideration for polyamorous individuals as that get’s WAY to complicated on all sides. This is also all my personalobservation and understanding from what I’ve seen in both real andonline communities (both LGBT+ in it’s entirety and gay), and whatI’ve heard from other guys in similar circumstances. My experienceis still different than this, but I can definitively feel gayloneliness as a separate aspect from trans loneliness or trans-mascgay loneliness. I can’t even imagine myself with a happy future ifI were a cis gay male, removing all my other issues such as trauma. Fortunately, I am able to recognize a lot of my dependence on sexualism but it’s so hard to imagine positive situations separated from sex. I’ve managed to foster some dreams thankfully, and I’m unlearning hyper sexualism, but for many other gay guys they can’t even do that. If you can’t imagine a perfect date without imagining sex attached to it, there’s something a bit concerning there.

Also a major thing: This is not meant to shame individuals for enjoying casual sex. Casual sex is fun and dandy, this is meant to raise awareness that the gay community is extremely focused on casual sex over romantic developments. The media, the culture, everything we’ve built seems to be with extreme emphasis on sex, which leaves young gays isolated from the community, and distorts our ability to function romantically in the future as adults.

#ask #asks #anon ask #anonymous ask #gay loneliness essay

[abeautifulblog]

My aesthetic: Joseph striking out

So I'd mentioned before that I think Joseph has almost definitely tried his luck with every dad on the block -- he certainly doesn't seem to have learned any sort of lesson, re: shitting where you eat, from the disaster with Robert, because he wastes no time coming onto the Dadsona when you roll up in the neighborhood. But I also think that -- for a variety of reasons -- he didn't actually manage to score with anyone on the cul-de-sac but Robert. So let's talk about some of those reasons.

(Again, this is setting aside the possibility that anyone just went "Nope, you're married, that ain't right" -- which any of the dads could well have done, because they're all decent human beings, but Joseph is very good at playing like his marriage is over, therefore it's not REEEEALLY cheating, right?)

Damien -- Already talked about this one in a previous post, but in short, Joseph is all about reshaping people please him, and Damien -- trans and dedicated goth -- has spent his whole gd life dealing with that shit, with people who want him to do what makes them happy rather than what makes him happy. I think it's fair to say that Damien is the dad with the most solid sense of self in the game -- the upshot of having had to work so hard for it. Joseph's schtick isn't going to hold the slightest bit of appeal for him.

Brian -- This is the one dad where I think Joseph would nope out first. Because Brian's whole thing is one-up-man-ship, and we find out later that it's his slightly clueless way of trying to impress you, but initially it feels like he's belittling *your* accomplishments -- and hoo boy, self-loving-sociopath Joseph is not going to be about that. Joseph is the guy who interrupts your conversation with Damien to make you tell him how great his party is. The guy who takes center stage so everyone can fawn over his mad grilling skills. The guy who brags in his dad-grindr profile about being "#1 youth minister five years running" and how he crushes his kids at Candy Land. The guy who expects you to be so impressed with his yacht that you fall right into bed with him. He is going to be aggravated as fuck that Brian, instead of being appropriately overawed by Joseph’s accomplishments and ~honored~ by his interest, blithely does everything Joseph does, and does it better.

(Not to mention that most of Brian's bragging is about his kid -- and none of Joseph's is. Joseph takes no apparent pride in his children, we only ever see him being chagrined by the twins and their creepy games, and that is not something that would sit well with Brian.)

Mat -- It comes down to Rosa. That he's still mourning her, and more to the point, he's still mourning her. He's lonely, but he doesn't want just someone, anyone who can make him feel less lonely (which is I think the key difference between his grief and Robert’s), he misses Rosa, specifically. Joseph probably stepped up to comfort Mat and give him a shoulder to lean on after Rosa's death, but there's a good chance Mat didn't even notice his ulterior motives, and if he did, that Joseph wouldn't have held any appeal when all he really wants is his wife back.

Craig -- Craig's on record as being very choosy in his romantic relationships for the sake of his daughters -- I believe it's on his very first date that he says he doesn't want to bring a stranger into their lives. And yeah, some of the softball moms are off-puttingly aggressive in their come-ons (*cough* JANET), but they can't all be. Craig has to have met some single women (or men) that he gets along with and who would have been happy to be a good co-parent for his kids -- but he's turned down all comers, including the single moms who stand to offer his kids a lot more than Joseph does. Even if Joseph were legitimately single, he would have been just one more in the crowd.

Hugo -- Hugo seems like the one who would be most receptive to Joseph under other circumstances. They're both actively involved in the community; Ernest goes to Joseph's church so it's safe to assume that Hugo does too, meaning they'd be religiously compatible; Hugo is newly single and the dad who seems most interested in dating and meeting new people. But he is also very conscious of his position of authority; that he's a high school teacher who needs to set a good example for his students and his son, and I think as soon as Joseph's flirting started to cross the line past "could plausibly just be friendliness," Hugo would explicitly shut it down, and give his reasons why. Like, "Maybe this is something we could explore after you and Mary are separated, but you and I both have responsibilities that make it something I refuse to pursue now."

Incidentally: my housemate and I agree that Joseph probably fucked Hugo's ex, before or during the breakup. Hugo doesn't know about it, but it happened.

*

And then poor Robert. He never stood a chance.

Ironically, I think Joseph now regrets the affair with Robert. Not because he has any remorse over how badly he fucked Robert up, but because Robert's very instability -- the instability that made him such an easy mark in the first place -- now makes him incredibly difficult to predict and control.

Robert fell for the initial seduction, but he didn't fall for the "oh you were my one-time mistake, I regret this so much, please never tell anyone" line afterward -- he thinks Joseph is an utter shitbag now. He stands to blow Joseph's secret wide open, and he's certainly not keeping his mouth shut to spare Joseph's reputation. He's already notoriously weird, so the social pressure to "not rock the boat" isn't something that's going to keep Robert in line. He's already halfway a pariah in the community, so it's not like he has that much to lose if he decides to tank his reputation the rest of the way and drag Joseph down with him. And he's unstable enough that just because he hasn't done it yet is no guarantee that he won't do it at any moment.

(Yeah -- you should be afraid, motherfucker.)

I think Robert keeps the secret (1) because he's ashamed of his own role in it -- at having helped Joseph cheat on Mary, at having fallen for it -- and (2) because he's not certain anyone would believe him if he did tell them.

#robert #mat #damien #craig #hugo #brian #my headcanons #gremble talks about that gd affair #robert's hangups with sex #joseph the sociopath #dream daddy

[thequietoftheroom]

I need to start using this again. I’ve sort of been neglecting it and posting my personal information on Facebook and Twitter, probably because more people started responding. But if my mental breakdowns are on display, I’m doing everyone a disservice and editing myself to call for attention. This is supposed to be about therapy, about talking to myself via my blog. I don’t mind much on tumblr because people hardly read things anyway since most people have moved to tumblr mobile by now and anything resembling an essay scares them away.

I’ve definitely gotten myself together again since I last wrote here but I’m falling, and I need this. I need help. I’ve got so many things weighing on my mind lately. First of all, I still have not finished paying off my debt to Chase. Putting my faith in the wrong hands because I wanted so badly to have a job, cost me the entire past months of sanity, which was worth 3 thousand dollars. I only have 700 left to pay, and I’ll be paying off 600 of that come my tax returns. It’s taken such a huge hit on my because I’ve had to use Christmas money and every last cent of any job I’ve worked from August till now to pay it back, Bank Of America doesn’t treat its customers much better and I was told that all major banks pretty much have the same leaders in corporate so that if what happened to me at Chase happened to me in Bank Of America, I could be kicked out of all banks in the city. Full stop. It was a wake up call to how naive and immature I am. The cost of trying hard to find the silver lining in every situation. No good deed goes unpunished.

Then there’s the fact that I’ve started gaining weight again. This summer took an emotional toll on me that I haven’t fully recovered from and both my piano playing and my exercising took a hit. I escaped in games and in food and didn’t take advantage of my special shakes when I had them. Now that I’m ready to get back out there I don’t have them and I have to take care of all 3 meals and 2 snacks on my own and I neither have the money or the drive to do that. I ended up, this time around at the supermarket, buying large bottles of fruit shakes to use as my main meals. At least breakfast and lunch. I’ve also been drinking a lot of water and have gone running twice recently. I’ve also started playing piano more. I’m still behind on lessons but I’ve been substituting the lessons with tutorials on how to play some of the more complicated compositions I’m into. I’m starting to be able to write music just by hearing it and gain better hand independence. I even think my singing, which in all honesty belongs in the shower or drunk karaoke, has improved significantly. Because I’ve let myself go my self image is starting to shatter. In November I shaved my head to come face to face with my hair thinning. I’m not bald and my hair is growing long and fast, but it’s thin enough to notice many splotches of skin, a constant reminder that I’m not as young as I’d like to be. I’m almost 30.

I’m almost 30. This is the first time in my life i’ve been able to come up with a plan of some sort for what I’m doing with it for the next few years. The light at the end of the tunnel. I can’t fault my parents too much because they were raised with strict expectations and gender roles that they very clearly thought their children belonged to so they never explored my interests in the arts, minus guitar. I’ve always loved singing and writing. I used to play on toy pianos all the time and when my sister got a keyboard it was amazing. On the first night i played Joy To The World by ear. But my parents only ever gave her lessons because piano is a woman’s instrument. I tried to learn on my own and I had tried to get my sister to teach me, but I was always so eager to excel that I couldn’t concentrate. I still can’t to this day but since I’m my own teacher I let myself explore chords and harmonies and things beyond the lesson that I’m currently in because that’s a sign of passion. Of love. And my depression almost took that away from me. With music I always find my way back.

Except with Christmas. The little elves that once constantly and painstakingly (to others around me, at least) converted my heart into a Yule Hall have vacated the premises. I didn’t feel anything this Christmas. Not even happiness. I kept searching in all the songs, the films, and the decorations for hope, for my heart to grow as the Grinch’s did. But it never came. For the first time in my life this December was just that: December. i was terrified. Never has my mental illness destroyed or taken from me something that was so important and pure, something that was one of my defining characteristics. And now it’s just gone. So i’ve been living with the constant fear since then that maybe my love of music will be next, or my love of films. Or maybe I’ll wake up one day and someone I love entirely will mean absolutely nothing to me. Not hatred or contempt. Just... nothing.

Then I’ve also been dealing with “daddy issues”. I don’t like my father for one second. He’s problematic in the worst way and a conservative republican whom in parties boasts about all the gay men he’s beat up or killed (that part could be a lie because he’s a pathological liar who can’t stand the spotlight being away from him one second so he’s well known for embellishing his situations to make him look favourable). He’s always been a negative force in my life who has done nothing but abuse me both emotionally and physically. He’s the sort of man that has a very specific idea of what his son should be and if there is deviation from that ideal, there is no love. To be honest, he’s like that with most people. You have to be someone he likes and meet him at his level or you’re a lost cause. There is no compromise for the egotistic. Unfortunately I’ve picked some of that up in my willingness to protect myself from the world and my depression; something that I’m actively fighting to tear down. I thought my “daddy issues” meant that secretly I loved him and wanted him to love me so I fought them. But I know better know. As the song The Living Years says “I know that I’m a prisoner to all my father held so dear”, I’ve come to realize my issues stem from me realizing how much of myself I’ve screwed over and changed to avoid having problems with him. Similarly, to quote Simon/Lola, “I’m not my father’s son”. I’m me. Gavroche. And because I live aesthetically and have romanticised the nuclear family through years of family based media, I was longing for the ideal father. I’ve discussed this already but what I was longing for was that. A dad. And life has given me a few dads. They weren’t my father, but they treated me for me in a way that he never will. And I’ll have more dads in life. 

Just like I’ll have more moms. My mother stopped being a mom a long time ago. My sister is still battling to hold on to her relationship with her because of Gilmore Girls but shes’ struggling. My mother has always been cold and judgemental. I just always thought her critical sharp words were reserved for my sister and I. But they were used for everyone else. To her love, compassion, and empathy only extend to the people she knows, and fuck all to everyone else. That’s not love, and love doesn’t have conditions. For such a religious person she always fails to love her neighbor. And in her own way she thinks she’s doing right but every time my sister, or my aunt (her sister) try to call her out, she plays the victim and never listens. Because she doesn’t need to. She’s convinced herself she just needs to pray and that will solve everything. But prayer won’t make me love her again. Nothing will.

So I’m finally alone in my family. Sure, people try with good intentions but no one will truly love me for me. Ever. Not in this family at least. And I find myself searching for one desperately and I realize fully why people throw themselves to have children and get married so early. Just like men have mancaves to escape their wives, people make new families to escape their own. But I don’t have a place to start. I have close friends. However, most of them don’t live near me. With me. And that’s my fault. If I had applied myself better in school I could have colleagues and maybe even a friend group. I graduated with honors with nothing to show for it but for the fact that I could do it. No friends or connections. No place to call home. And so I’m drowning and trying to force myself  to do things I wouldn’t like downloading grindr to try and make friends in NYC or considering eharmony. I want a physical friend circle. I want to feel alive. To feel loved and wanted. Online friendships are real but they don’t fill you. They are mostly full of routine. I need an adventure. And that’s not to write off the numerous and wonderful friendships I’ve had but to say... I need more.

I’ve got all this and more weighing on my day by day. I haven’t even begun to discuss the unapologetic jealousy I’m filled with, married to the happiness that I wish I experienced more of, when I see my friends in relationships. I’ve learned it’s not bad to be jealous, that’s human. It’s bad to be petty. It’s bad to write off other people that you hold so dearly because they’ve finally found a happiness you can’t experience. That turns life into a competition and it’s not. Someone, some day, will love me. And that’s all I can hope for.

#personal #2018

[roidespd-blog]

Chapter Fourteen : G AS IN GAY

GAY… MEN ?

It is quite hard to tackle what gay is exactly as it looks simple enough but the specifics are way more complex. If I use it as an umbrella term, it covers men, women, trans men and trans women who happens to identify with this sexual orientation. Easy then. But the term “gay” was rejected by many lesbian women who wanted to forge an identity on their own aside from the shadows of homosexual men. So today, you can come out as a ‘gay woman’ but never use the word because it is still too broad and tight to people who are not exactly you and have more privileges. Also, and that’s the really interesting thing about it , the word gay has been favored by homosexual men most of all when describing their sexual orientation. And since I’m trying to cover everyone, I think it’s quite inevitable I begin dissecting what’s closest to one category. Consider this article about Gay Men — sorry, everyone else. You did or will get your due.

SEMANTICS

The word “Gay” is an english word which made its appearance in the 12th century. It comes from the very old french word “Gai”. “Gai” meant joyful, carefree or bright and showy. A meaning that was incorporated its english counterpart with the now famous Gay Nineties of late 19th century. Gay became a synonym of Homosexual in the 20th century. That’s when it got real sexual. Although to be fair, in certain circles, it was already the case, as someone gay could mean “addicted to pleasures and dissipations”.

One of my favorite movies of all time, Bringing Up Baby (1938) with the exquisite Katharine Hepburn, seems to be the first film to use “gay” in reference to homosexuality. Cary Grant is forced to wear a woman’s feather-trimmed robe when his clothes are sent to the cleaners. To that he says “I just went gay all of a sudden!”. And believe me, he was not in a carefree mood.

The earliest paper trail of the use of gay as homosexuals comes from Alfred A. Gross who said something so vile, I cannot NOT share it with you (as it shows how the world perceived, perceive and keep making us perceive ourselves) : “I have yet to meet a happy homosexual. They have a way of describing themselves as gay but the term is a misnomer. Those (…) are about the saddest people I’ve ever seen”.

If you really go into the specifics of what gay and straight mean, you see the world’s perspective of those “life choices”. Straight means seriousness, respectability, moral. Gay means uninhibited lifestyles and hedonistic values. And I’m not even gonna mention all the euphemisms that were created after the word gay. I already did in a previous article.

GAY AS AN IDENTITY

Gay as an “identity” is not something that is embraced by all. Some find it too clinical, focused more on the physical actions of one rather than his romantic feelings. Some rejects it because they see the undesirable cultural connotations and still-current negative slang usage of the word. Some loathes because it sounds too limited and box-like. I find it too broad and unfair to the rest of the community. Gay was for so long everyone in the community in the eyes of the general public. Because men were the most flamboyant and out there for so long, they overshadowed the rest of their brothers and sisters and appropriated the word for themselves, forcing the slow built of the acronym L G B T Q + (One letter at a time). As usual, men (as homosexual as they were) weren’t gonna let space for anyone else. Now, everything “gay” is a direct reference to homosexual men. A gay bar is mostly directed at bars with men. But let’s be real for a second. As GAY MEN, it is quite hard to forge ourself a proper “identity” with this word as its use has been turn so much against us.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -

“That’s so gay” This pejorative usage had its origins in the late 1970, as homosexuality was seen (ahah, “was”) as inferior or undesirable. it is still a common phrase for people nowadays. I honestly can’t stand it. EVEN gay people use it and I’m not even sure they grasp the irony of their words. It harms the community by using a common phrase that spreads casual homophobia. Don’t do that, it’s LAME (see, another way to say things. Isn’t it nice?)

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Gay is not an identity. If you are a gay man, or an homosexual man (whatever the term you want to call yourself), you are describing your sexual orientation. Though it is part of your identity, you have a lot more to publicly claim that your love for cock — and if you can only define yourself as a cocksucker, well you’re more narrow than my top, almost-never-bottomed asshole.

“HOW DID YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF GAY YOU WERE ?”

PINK TRIANGLE

It is commonly accepted that a gay man needs to walk a certain way (or “funny”), talk a certain way (or “girly”) and dress a certain way (or “colorful” which can also describe their personalities). As television and cinema were slowly opening up to the idea of homosexuality, it was shown that a man who loves other man had to show it in every way possible. Be gayer that gay. What’s the point of all your fuss if we, straight people, can’t even recognize you ? The truth is, as I’ve said earlier, gay is not an identity. If you happen to be a homosexual, you identity traits should not be affected by it. Unfortunately, we are a group in constant renewal as we are not born into our community but later join it (or not). And since the world has mostly denied us existence, the only basic structure we have is the simplistic binary heterosexual perception the world has of us. The colorful ones.

Matt Bomer is gay. Liberace was gay. Do you see any specific identity traits between the two of them, beside their sexuality ? 

That doesn’t mean you can’t cultivate your feminine traits, be flamboyant and fabulous. But just like everything else, you need to be sure that you have this inside of you because it is you, not because you adapted to the heterosexual gaze. And that’s just the idea of gayness that has been cultivated by society in general. I now want to talk about the idea of gayness inside the “gay community” (by that I mean gay men).

2. GAY TRIBES

As I was researching the different gay tribes that a gay man can belong to (I don’t know then all by heart since I refuse to adhere to them in any away — although as a younger man I described myself as a bear trapped in the body of a twink), I immediately landed on an article from Fast Company called “An Illustrated Guide to Recognizing Your Gay Stereotypes”. The article was talking about the work of illustrator Paul Tuller who was “reclaiming and celebrating” the archetypes of the gay community. That made my blood boil into supernova-like temperature.

Among those illustrations were the following clichés :

The Bear (a husky, large man with a lot of body hair) The Twink (a typically younger, thinner, gay man with little or no body hair) The Twunk (a young gay man who had the face of a twink and the physique of a hunk — jesus…) The Otter (a typically thinner, hairier gay man) The Drag Queen (that is a JOB. Do you even understand your community ? shut the fuck up)

There’s also : the Daddy (a man who is usually middle-aged and had a more dominant personality) the Jock (a gay man with an athletic build who typically enjoys sports) the Geek (a gay man with deep and enthusiastic knowledge of one or more hobbies, activities, professional fields or intellectual pursuits) the Poz (someone who is HIV positive… ) the Discreet (a gay man who is not out) the Clean-Cut (that’s a way of grooming!) the Rugged (that’s ALSO a way of grooming!) The Leather (it’s not an identity itself since it refers to a sexual fetish but whatever)

Those are terms that you can find to describe yourself on dating apps like Grindr (you can only choose one, three if you pay premium access).

Gay man, do you recognize yourself in these ? Off course you do. You can even associate those terms at will and make a comprehensive description of the image you have of yourself and/or the one you want others to have of you. Unfortunately, we are never going to advance as a community and a movement if we keep trying to put our own in little boxes. I do not want someone to come over to me and assume that because I look young and I’m somewhat thin, he gets to fantasize about me or be interest in talking to me because I’m a twink. I don’t want to put into the world that I’m in pursuit of a Daddy Bear with Leather interest ! That’s offensive and reductive. Why are you willing to do to ourselves what others do to us ? Don’t you see that the 50-year old cliché of the Fabulous Gay with pink feathers coming out of his ass is just the grandfather of “The Tale of the Bear and the Otter” ? (just made up that name, I need to make a children’s book out of this). I honestly think that tribes inside a tribe are the most counterproductive artifacts a person can face and it kills the individuality one can have. That’s just my opinion.

I haven’t even talked out the body issues that comes with the fact that you are gay.

This is what you’re supposed to look like :

That’s the picture perfect image most gay men are looking for on dating apps. To some, if you don’t look like that, you’re not even worth looking at. I mean, I already talked about racism on another article, but this is different. This is what a young 16 year-old think is supposed to be desirable. That’s the goal. Sweet boy, most people don’t look like that. I have fat. I have a little belly. I’m not okay with it but I can’t really fight it. I also believe that the gay community, NOT society, gave me the impression that my body was not enough to be considerable good looking. Sure, I’m cute. But hot ? Never felt that way. If I was a heterosexual man, I do believe that I would not be subjected to that much scrutiny from my sexual partners. And if I feel like that, I’m sure I’m not the only one.

So, “How did you know what kind of gay you were” ?

Young gay boy, you don’t need archetypes to define what kind of gay you are. You need to define what kind of human you are and the rest will follow. Don’t fit into a category put together by the community just like, previous to that situation, you decided not to fit into the category society wanted to put you in (aka straight). It took me years to know that. Build an independent spirit that is not polluted by pre-conceived notions of gayness. I hope you let yourself grab that opportunity too.