#your an asshole if you just completely ghost the friendship with no explanation

[death-and-the-codein-scene]

Worst criticisms of Conflict is not Abuse are the ones that deliberately misinterpret it and claim that she’s trying to invalidate peoples feelings of getting hurt

[auspicious-manner]

hey!!

i love ur writing!! is there any chance you could do a riff x fem!shorter!bisexual! reader in a modern au? maybe where riff and the reader are friends and their little group is the jets? reader and the jets have a movie night, and riff and the reader get all cuddly as the night progesses?

i hopw this is okay!

wait i actually love this idea sm. i’ve always wanted to write a modern au! thank you for supporting my stories :)

female reader x riff

modern au

warnings: none

Ghosts

•

“Y/N, your friend is here!” Y/N’s mom yelled.

“coming!” Y/N yelled back from upstairs. she finished clipping her hair back and ran down the stairs with her school back pack looped around her shoulders.

she quickly said goodbye to her mom and grabbed a package of pop tarts for the road. she walked out of her front door and saw her best friend riff’s car.

she opened the passenger side and saw a smiling riff.

“it’s about time you got out here,” he said playfully, reversing the car to get out of her driveway.

“do you want me to share my pop tart with you or not?” Y/N asked, resulting in riff frowning before muttering a small “fine” and taking a pop tart from his friend.

every morning before school, riff picked Y/N up. if it weren’t for him, she would have to walk across town to school every day, and he didn’t like to see her walking alone through all types of weather.

the two became friends right from the moment they met in kindergarten. Y/N was playing with blocks when riff came over and, being his typical self, knocked them down. she cried, and riff instantly felt bad. he offered to help her set them up again, amd from then on, they were inseparable.

as the pair reached puberty, riff noticed his feelings for Y/N were beyond just friendship. although he had an undeniable crush on his best friend, he never acted on it. he was happy to simply be her friend, and he didn’t want to ruin that. besides, Y/N always seemed to have her mind set on someone else.

“how are you and… what was her name? nadia?” riff asked as he drove the familiar route to school.

Y/N cringed. “oh, me and nadia? yeah… it’s not going to work.”

riff sighed. “dammit Y/N, i’m sorry,” he replied sadly. “what happened?”

Y/N bit her lip. “i thought it was going well, i really did. we got along well, she liked me, i liked her, and then she ghosted me. out of the blue, with no explanation,” she avoided riff’s concerned glares. “it sucks because i really liked this girl.”

“that’s awful,” he replied back softly. “you didn’t deserve that.”

“i know, tell me about it.”

riff went silent for a moment. “you know what, i have an idea. to cheer you up, lets get together with the guys for a movie night tonight. we can come to my house and eat snacks and binge all of your favorite movies. deal?”

Y/N laughed. “you always know how to make me feel better.”

they arrived at school, and met up with their group in their usual hang out spot, which was in the cafeteria. they found ice, mouthpiece, a-rab, baby john, and tiger waiting for them.

“it’s about time youse showed up!” mouthpiece exclaimed in his thick new york accent.

“we were taking our sweet time,” riff said back, approaching the boys. “and, we had to make a plan for tonight. the girl Y/N was talking to ended up being a grade-A asshole who completely ghosted her, and to make her feel better, we’re having a movie night at my place.”

Y/N felt like crawling into a hole and disappearing. she didn’t want to make more people pity her. “riff, what the hell!” she frantically stated, hiding her face that was turning bright red.

“wait, you got ghosted?” baby john asked sweetly.

“that’s awful,” ice added in the same tone.

“that’s what i said,” riff started, turning to ice. “so, you in fellas?”

they all agreed to the movie night, and although Y/N was excited and thankful for the boys, she couldn’t tell them the real reason her and nadia stopped talking. sure, nadia did ghost her. but a part of her almost felt relieved it didn’t work, because there was someone else she had her eye on. someone she could see herself with more.

the day absolutely flew by, and before she knew it, school was let out and riff was driving her to the store to pick up her favorite snacks.

“what are you thinkin’?” riff asked as they browsed the various snacks.

“hmm… popcorn? and how about gummy bears? we should probably get some chips too, mouthpiece always manages to choke on the popcorn every time he eats it,” Y/N said, mostly talking to herself as she searched the aisles. eventually, she bought all of that and picked out some cookies as well.

they drove back to riff’s, and the boys met them there. riff’s house wasn’t necessarily small, but it wasn’t grand either. it was an average one story home with a two car garage. his parents were almost never home, which gave him more freedom to do what he pleased around the house.

“so, Y/N, why did nadia ghost you?” a-rab asked after they had all gathered around riff’s tv in his living room.

“that’s the whole point of ghosting. they don’t give you a reason why they leave, they just do,” Y/N replied.

a-rab rolled his eyes. Y/N situated herself next to riff on the couch, and the rest of the boys filled in the empty spots around them.

“so, what should we watch first?” tiger asked. riff pulled up netflix on his tv, and turned to Y/N.

“Y/N, what do you think?”

she thought about her options. “how about… oh, i know. let’s watch spider-man.”

the boys turned to look at her. “spider-man? really?” ice asked.

Y/N frowned. “you guys asked me what i wanted to watch!”

“pick something else,” tiger suggested.

“fine. let’s watch mean girls.”

riff laughed. “that’s more like it.”

he turned the movie on, and the group of friends laughed and quoted the movie as it went on. when it finished, the winter sun was setting early at about five o’clock.

“can i choose the next movie?” riff asked. Y/N nodded, and he browsed his options.

“since it’s getting dark, how about a scary movie?” riff asked the group. the boys nodded and made sounds of agreement, and Y/N sighed.

“you know i don’t like scary movies,” she told him.

“don’t worry about it, i’ll protect you if anything scary happens,” riff said nonchalantly. the boys held their breath, mentally applauding riff for being so bold. Y/N blushed at his remark.

after much discussion, the group finally decided on a movie: the conjuring. while the boys couldn’t wait, Y/N knew she wouldn’t exactly enjoy this movie. scary movies weren’t her thing, but she hoped that her fears would be eased if riff was by her side to comfort her.

riff turned it on, and the group got comfy in their spots with their various snacks. only ten minutes into the movie, riff already saw that Y/N was tense, and he slowly reached his arm around her shoulders. she felt surprised by his touch at first, but needed the comfort.

the movie went on, and the first jump scare appeared on screen. mouthpiece screamed at the top of his lungs, baby john accidentally spit out his drink, and tiger held onto a-rab, which a-rab wasn’t fond of.

when Y/N jumped, her first instinct was to attach herself closer to riff. she made a small whimper at the jump, and riff held her close.

“you okay?” riff asked her quietly.

she released the pent up tension in her body. “yeah, i think i’m okay.”

“don’t let a horror movie scare you. it’s all fake,” riff said. Y/N raised her head to look at him.

“you say that like i don’t already know that.”

ice turned around from his spot on the floor. “are you two lovebirds going to watch the movie or keep chattin’ through it?”

the pair stared ice down. “lovebirds?”

“you heard me.”

after trying to ignore ice’s comment, the movie went on, and there was a scene that was one scary thing after another. Y/N buried her head into riff’s shoulder, and he securely wrapped his arms around her.

“i can’t watch!” Y/N uneasily said. despite the scary movie, riff was smiling. he had wanted to have Y/N in his arms for a long time now, and now she was finally there.

the scary part passed, and Y/N kept her head on riff’s shoulder. “it’s done now,” riff whispered. she lifted her head up, but kept her body pressed closely to his. she was happy riff wasn’t weirded out by her sudden closeness. after being ghosted, she realized the one she wanted to get closer with was right in front of her. and now, her opportunity had arrived.

after two long hours of constantly burying her head into riff’s side and lifting her head up only to bury it again at another scary part, the movie had ended.

“i can’t believe you guys actually enjoyed watching that,” Y/N said after getting up to get some water.

“you enjoyed it alright,” a-rab fired back.

“did you see me? i kept my head down the entire time!” she replied.

“yeah, but that gave you an opportunity to get closer to riff, didn’t it?”

the room went silent, and riff and Y/N exchanged knowing glares. the boys watched this exchange and smiled to themselves.

“ah, that’s what we thought,” mouthpiece started. “we’ll leave you two to talk it out, make out, solve your obvious sexual tension, i don’t know. if you need us, we’ll be searchin’ through riff’s valuables in his room.”

riff stared at the boys with his jaw dropped as they walked towards riff’s room. “if you dicks steal anything i’ll kill you!” he yelled.

the two were left alone, and the air was thick with tension.

“is there something you need to tell me?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to the couch riff was still sitting on.

he avoided eye contact. “i was secretly happy when you and nadia didn’t work. i wanted you for myself, because i like you. i always have, i just didn’t want to ruin the friendship we had already built.”

Y/N lightly smiled. “you’ll be glad to hear that i was also secretly happy when we didn’t work. i had other people i wanted to spend my time with.”

riff’s grin spanned across his face. “is that person me?”

with the smile still present on her face, she sat down across from riff on the couch. “no, not at all. i was actually going after a-rab all this time,” she replied sarcastically.

riff laughed and rolled his eyes. he took Y/N’s arm and dragged her to his chest, and she gladly got comfy under his arm.

“you make me so happy,” riff told her, kissing her head.

“you make me happy too.”

after a few glorious minutes of just the two of them finally basking in their love, Y/N broke the silence.

“we should call the boys back in, right?”

riff thought about it. “no, i like it just the two of us.”

Y/N giggled. “fair enough.”

they sat in that position for longer than they even knew, feeling like they’ve both finally found what it means to be in love.

[justatiredghost]

Living for the Moment Ch21 A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other? Read More AO3

Klaus was pacing, too much energy and nothing to do with it, all too aware that he hadn’t had a hit in much too long. He wasn’t sure if the nausea or shakes were because of the withdrawal or panic, but it was only going to get worse, especially once the ghosts started showing up. He crossed his arms tightly, feeling like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. He never had been very good at waiting.

And this was the worst place he could think of to have to wait around in. He hated being back at the Academy. It brought up too many memories, making him feel like a kid again, useless and miserable. Then again, not much had changed there. He was proud of how useless he’d remained.

Even though he knew Grace had said no one else was home, he still kept glancing at doors, listening for telltale footsteps, anything to indicate Reginald was on his way. It had always seemed like Dad had a sixth sense dedicated just to knowing when to show up to make his life a living hell.

He should steal something from the old bastard. For old time’s sake.

When the door opened, it startled him out of his thoughts and he half expected Reginald to be standing there. He wasn’t sure if Grace, her usual smile replaced with a look of trepidation, was actually better. It felt like his stomach dropped, like he was falling, and whenever he hit the ground, it would probably be more painful than anything he’d ever experienced.

“Your friend is resting now,” she said, which, so far so good, Klaus supposed. “But we won’t know the extent of the damage until he wakes up. I just want you to understand, he lost a lot of blood.”

Klaus knew there was an unspoken, ‘if,’ there. ‘If he wakes up.’ And his mind was all too helpful in providing plenty of horrible outcomes, from permanent organ damage to a coma. What were they supposed to do then?

‘They.’

The realization that he really, truly, meant that hit him hard. He wouldn’t leave Dave to face this alone, whatever happened. It was stupid, this was exactly what he’d worked all his life to avoid. He was a useless fuckup and this could only end horribly for the both of them. And yet, for some reason, he still wanted to try. Whatever the cost to himself.

It was strange, remembering that only a few hours ago he hadn’t been able to decide if he should meet Dave or not. But this was different. He could live with, for once, putting aside his selfishness so Dave could live a happy life without him fucking it all up. But now? He wouldn’t abandon him like this.

“Why don’t you go see him?” Grace said, reminding him that they didn’t have all the information yet. He didn’t even know if Dave would survive the night. She put a comforting hand on Klaus’ shoulder and smiled encouragingly for whatever it was worth.

“Thanks, Mom.”

He felt shaky and detached as he made his way to the infirmary, like this was just a dream. Until he actually saw Dave, that is. Seeing his too-pale form lying there snapped him back to reality and the weight and terror of it all hit him hard. As he sat beside him, he couldn’t help but watch Dave carefully, counting every rise and fall of his chest as he breathed; proof he was alive.

He shivered as he sat there, feeling completely drained, emotionally and physically. He thought about raiding the liquor cabinet, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Dave’s side. There wasn’t anything he could do, now, but he’d come so close to losing him and right now, all he wanted was to be near him.

“Don’t you die on me,” Klaus said, even though he knew he couldn’t hear him. “Not now.”

The idea of losing Dave, after everything, made him want to laugh in a horrible sort of way that he was afraid might turn into something else. He didn’t want to even think about it. About how much he’d changed because of Dave, despite himself; about the glimpses of what his life could be, things he never thought possible, things he didn’t even believe in that suddenly felt like they could be true.

He was this whirlwind that had come into his life and shaken everything up, making him care about something other than himself for once. Making him want more than the oblivion he had spent his life searching for. It wasn’t fair. Dave was good, actually genuinely good, this couldn’t be how he ended up. Klaus deserved this kind of end, but not him.

He could feel exhaustion weighing on him after the day he’d had, but instead of giving in, he started pacing again. He didn’t know what else to do.

-

Klaus did fall asleep eventually. He’d slept poorly the previous night, so he’d been running on hardly any sleep even before everything happened, so he wasn’t all that surprised to find himself slumped over in an armchair near Dave’s bed. Grace’s heels clicking across the floor had likely been what roused him, and when he glanced over, he was met with the sight of Dave, awake and alive, and he was pretty sure it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Grace was in the process of taking his blood pressure, so it took a moment before Dave saw he was awake as well, so at least he’d managed to get his facial expressions under control by then. He wasn’t sure what Dave would have seen otherwise.

“Hey,” Dave said with a smile. He still looked pale and weak, and he didn’t seem strong enough to sit up, but it was just so good to hear his voice.

“I turn my back for a second,” Klaus joked, but something like guilt flashed across Dave’s face, although he wasn’t sure why.

“I’ll need to monitor you for a bit. Try to get some rest,” Grace said, reaching over to ruffle Klaus’ hair before leaving.

Klaus had never really felt awkward around Dave. He had no shame anymore, so he rarely felt awkward around anyone. But Dave especially, they just got along too well, he had always felt completely comfortable around him. Right now, though, he felt awkward, mostly because of the revelation of how far he’d go to help Dave, and what that meant. Maybe there was something wrong with him. So he did what he always did and avoided the topic. Besides, there were other things they needed to talk about first.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened, or what?” he asked, scooting his chair over so he could lean on the edge of the narrow bed.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Dave said, bringing a hand up to rub tiredly at his face.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure most people would consider getting stabbed a big deal, but you’re lucky I’m not most people,” Klaus joked, trying to get him to stop looking so upset. “I am pissed that a fight went down and I wasn’t even invited, though.”

“I guess I do owe you an explanation,” Dave sighed. “I just mouthed off to the wrong people, it was bound to happen eventually, I guess.”

“Mr Katz, are you telling me you actually picked a fight?” Klaus said with exaggerated shock, hand over heart. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but then, I never claimed to be smart,” Dave tried to shrug but seemed to think better of it.

“Come on, don’t be stingy with the details,” Klaus prompted.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much more information for you,” Dave admitted. “I don’t even know who they were.”

“Wow,” Klaus said, struggling to think of a time Dave had actually seemed genuinely angry. Especially with strangers, he was usually the type just to ignore assholes and move on. It occurred to him that tbe two other fights he’d gotten into had been because of Klaus. Maybe he was a bad influence on him. “What did they even do to push your buttons that much?

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Dave said, sarcasm tingeing his words. “But I’m not exactly what people think of when they imagine the ideal soldier. I mean, they’re not supposed to be gay, or critical of the military, and they certainly don’t relapse six times in the last month alone.”

“Oh,” was all Klaus could say, because he hadn’t known, how could he? He and Dave had hardly spent any time together. But Dave always did seem so strong and confident, Klaus couldn’t help but assume sobriety was going well for him. Obviously he had his own struggles and Klaus mentally kicked himself for not paying better attention.

“Yeah,” Dave said, staring up at the ceiling. “My uncle is more like what people expect, which, fair enough. I don’t think these assholes were associated with the VA, I think they just happened to be passing by, but who knows. They’re not exactly above prejudice.”

“So, they started spewing bullshit, and you snapped?” Klaus asked skeptically.

“Not exactly,” Dave said. “I wanted to just ignore them, but then they started hassling a kid I’d seen around the VA, and that was when I snapped. Security chases us all off before a fight could break out, but they must have followed me.”

“We have got to get you better at spotting a tail.”

“Yeah, probably,” Dave said with an exhausted chuckle. “I don’t think they meant for this to go so far. One of them pulled out a switchblade he’d clearly never used before, and as soon as they saw blood, they all freaked out and ran away.”

“Not even gonna be professionals about this,” Klaus said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Well, hopefully they got it out of their system and won’t be doing any more stabbing for a while. Maybe we should—”

“I’m sorry, can we talk about this later?” Dave said, closing his eyes. “I’m really tired.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Klaus said, taken by surprise. It had just been so nice to hear Dave’s voice again, he had to remind himself of the trauma he’d just survived. He shouldn’t be pushing him like this.

“Thanks,” Dave said, eyes still closed. “For everything.”

“Whatever,” Klaus said, waving a hand dismissively as he got up and headed for the door. “You’ve already bailed me out of a few tight spots, so we’ll call it even.”

On the other side of the door, he had to take a moment just to breathe. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. He wasn’t used to going through so many emotions in one night and he still felt shaky. Then again, maybe that was withdrawal. Good thing he still had a stash in his room.

While he was here, Klaus figured he might as well take advantage of the situation. He’d apparently slept through most of the day, and he spent the rest of it enjoying a ridiculously long bath. Then, he went to raid the kitchen. He had his head in the refrigerator with a drumstick in his mouth as he piled more food into his arms. But when he turned to spread his spoils out on the table, he heard the floorboards creak.

He froze guiltily, ready for his dad or Luther to storm in to tell him off, but after a moment, it became clear that no one was heading this way. And, whoever it was, they weren’t all that steady on their feet, walking slowly. Klaus abandoned the drumstick and went to peek around the corner to find Dave, back turned to him, making his way to the front door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Klaus said. “If you pull a stitch, Mom’s gonna be really disappointed in you, and no one wants that.”

Dave actually cursed under his breath at that, leaning heavily against the back of a chair. “You know,” he said, his voice artificially light. “I was trying to make this easier on the both of us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not continually forcing myself back into your life on purpose,” Dave said, turning to look at him. He looked utterly exhausted, barely keeping his feet under him. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at his curls in frustration. “I know you’d rather move on and you’ve already done a lot for me, you don't have to--”

“Whoa, no, no,” Klaus interrupted. “I tried to meet you. I mean, I was there, but then I got arrested.”

“Arrested?” Dave asked skeptically.

“Yeah! That’s why I found you, I’d only just gotten out and was hoping you’d stuck around. Very, very late, I know, but--”

“You don’t have to do this just to be nice.” Dave crossed his arms across his chest, looking more like he was holding himself, and Klaus didn’t think he’d ever looked so small.

“Hey, this is me, remember? When do I ever do anything just to be nice?” He walked over to Dave, placing a hand on his arm, just wanting him to know he was serious. Dave leaned into the touch, still not quite meeting his eyes as he took a deep shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I can lay it on pretty thick sometimes, and I think barging into your life like I did and punching that guy certainly counts. I was afraid of losing you, but I wasn’t thinking about what you wanted, and that isn’t fair of me.”

Klaus just stared at him for a moment, before he remembered he was supposed to say something. Usually, Klaus was the one being accused of being too much. No one had ever wanted him in their life like this, and no one had ever been so concerned with what he wanted.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” was all he could really think to say.

“And I have a stab wound,” Dave chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Promise you’re not just here because you feel like you have to be? I know I’ve been laying on sob story after sob story lately, I didn’t really want to get into all this, you shouldn’t have to worry about my crap. And I definitely don’t want you to feel like I’m twisting your arm”

“It’s cute you think you could possibly manipulate me, of all people,” Klaus said, patting his cheek. “I’m immune to sob stories.”

“That’s not—” Dave started, but trailed off, clearly frustrated and unsure how to get across what he was trying to say, so Klaus continued.

“Besides,” Klaus continued quickly. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been dealing with my crap for a while now, isn’t that what friends are supposed to do? That’s a genuine question, by the way, I have no idea.”

“I guess,” Dave said with an uncertain shrug.

“Well, don’t worry, this is completely selfish on my part. If I were a better person, I would have let you leave.”

“I’m selfish too because I’m glad you didn’t,” Dave admitted.

“I’m still not really sure how this is supposed to work, but—“ Klaus hesitated, so close to saying how completely he trusted Dave. Instead, he shifted direction. “Hey, maybe we deserve to be a little selfish.”

“If you’re willing to put up with the disaster I’ve made of my life, I think we can figure something out.”

“You’re a disaster? Have you met me?” Klaus said, gesturing to himself.

“I’ve just really been struggling,” Dave admitted, looking so completely hopeless and worn out. “I already told you about relapsing. Everything is just so hard and I’ve let it isolate me. I even let it pull me away from my best friend.” Here he gestured at Klaus, to his surprise. “I can’t live like this anymore. Something has to change.”

“What does that mean?” Klaus asked. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

“No,” Dave said with a heavy sigh. “I just have to figure it out, but right now I just feel helpless.”

Klaus didn't really know how he was supposed to reassure him when he didn’t even believe things were going to work out. He’d learned a long time ago not to hope for the best, so he couldn’t advise him, and he certainly couldn’t comfort him. At least he could help him back to bed before he started bleeding again. It was all he could do at this point.

“Come here,” Klaus said, reaching out to take Dave’s arm so he could help support him back to bed.

Apparently Dave misunderstood, though, because the next thing he knew, Klaus was being pulled into a hug. It took him completely by surprise and he froze up before remembering he was supposed to hug him back. Dave leaned into him slightly, a comfortable weight as Klaus helped support him and he hated how much he liked it. It felt safe and warm, completely surrounded by Dave, overwhelming all of his senses.

“Wait,” Dave said after a moment, and now he was the one freezing up. “You weren’t going in for a hug, were you?”

“No, I was going to help you back to bed, but this works too.”

“Wow,” Dave said, but he didn’t actually release him. “Well, this is awkward.”

“You’re such a dork,” Klaus chuckled. “Come on, give me your arm.”

“I think I’d rather sink into the floor,” Dave said, but he finally let him go, letting himself be led along, his face bright red. Klaus wasn’t sure if he was slouched, ducking his head slightly, from embarrassment or just the pain.

“You can do that later when you’ll actually be able to get back up again. You do that now and you’ll probably be stuck there.”

“That’s fine,” Dave said. “I think I’ll just live in a hole in the ground. Any chance you’d be willing to never mention this again?”

“Are you kidding? I’m gonna hold this over you every chance I get.”

It was so nice, getting back to their usual banter. He’d missed Dave, of course he had, but being with him was always so much better than he had remembered. He was just so much more fun, so much kinder and softer, more adventurous and so, so strong.

Klaus cleared his throat and forced himself to focus on something else. There he was, getting carried away again. He had no idea what to do with himself. Maybe there was no saving either of them in the end.

[bisluthq]

*WARNING Domestic violence topic* Could you explain to me why seven could sound queer?, Like I can see how many Taylor songs can be interpreted in a queer way, but with seven I can't see it, like for me it's clearly about domestic violence and the only possible queer thing I can hear it's the closet part...but in this particular case I do not think it refers to sexuality but to literally hiding form your abusive parents. Sorry if this was asked before or if it's disrespectful to ask.

So firstly let me just say that victims of abuse who hear that in the song are so valid. And I’m not here to “take away” a song that speaks to that experience. If it brings you comfort and relief, that’s amazing.

Do I think Taylor meant it as a song about domestic violence or escaping from that? Honestly, no. Because she described herself in LPSS as longing for that time in her life and talked about how she misses being able to throw tantrums and feel more freely and without judgement; in her head she’s thinking about this period in her life very fondly. Now, this is one of those death of the author moments because if you’re an abuse survivor who found comfort in this you... shouldn’t care wtf Taylor meant by it, what matters is what it means to you. Same as how if betty speaks to your sapphic teenage love triangle, it shouldn’t matter that Taylor imagined James as a boy.

But yeah, so for Taylor it was not meant to be about abuse. It was about feeling stuff more freely. And let’s take a look and examine at why it feels so fucking gay to... like... basically every queer woman.

Please picture me

In the trees

I hit my peak at seven

Okay so Taylor is setting up a narrator - presumably herself. Especially in the context of her hyperconfessional marketing and the LPSS explanation we’re literally meant to picture Tay. But tbh that doesn’t matter so much - it could be any little girl. This little girl is “in the trees”... which isn’t really where little girls are supposed to be. In these very first lines Tay is setting up a little tomboy character.... and then she says “I hit my peak at seven” - ergo this rugrat period of abandon, where I was free to play in the trees, is “my peak”. It was the best time in “my” life.

Lots of people feel that, it’s not inherently gay, but for queer women - I don’t know about other shades of queer but suspect yes - childhood often represents even greater freedom than to hets because it’s before we felt deviant. There was nothing to compare ourselves to. Sure, we might’ve played families in het couples like heteronormativity is felt by children too, but that kind of thing was largely asexual and we didn’t know yet that other people felt differently about it all.

Like I only realized I was different in late middle school and I didn’t have the word for it for ages tbh. Like I just knew I didn’t get the fuss about boys. When I was a little kid? I didn’t know what the fuss was really. It was a kind of “peak” so yeah, I feel that in my bones.

Feet

In the swing

Over the creek

I was too scared to jump in, but I, I was high

In the sky

Here we have her playing, once again with reckless abandon - she’s standing on a swing (naughty!) and swinging high over a creek. But she’s slightly nervous. I relate to that too, it’s not a gay thought it’s a little kid thought I think - because while she’s enjoying her freedom and the chance to play, there’s an awareness of the risk. That’s a lot of childhood and what makes her such a greater songwriter is how she’s able to capture these feelings we’ve all had before, in this case the rumbunctious nature of free play paired with the cautious nervousness of knowing you can fall.

With Pennsylvania under me

I mean this simple makes it more autobiographical for her, like if we didn’t know her was her that was the me , now we really do.

Are there still beautiful things?

This is speaks to her nostalgia for this time period and serves to highlight how much she misses it. She wishes she was young and innocent and had that freedom of playing in the trees and above the creek and feeling like she’s flying just because she’s standing upright on the swing. This is meant to be her “peak”.

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross your heart, won't tell no other

The first line is setting up mood again, it’s innocence and suburbia and freedom and the hot days of summer vacation. The second is a common English phrase - for the ESL folks - that means “let’s keep a secret”. It’s extremely common for little girls especially to have secrets with each other. “You’re my best friend and I’ll tell you something I haven’t told anyone else before but cross your heart you won’t tell anyone else” is the kind of thing that has probably happened at a sleepover for every woman (gay or straight). So Tay’s whispering and telling secrets to her best friend aged seven in the heat of the summer and the neat rhymes kinda remind me of those clapping games you play as a kid.

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

Again, I think this isn’t specific to gay kids necessarily - it’s that idea of having lifelong affection for your first best friend even when you don’t know where they are, can’t imagine them in adulthood, maybe can’t even remember their surname and frankly don’t really want to or care... but you still have warm feelings towards them.

Your braids like a pattern

Love you to the moon and to Saturn

So the friend is a girl. And here’s where the non wlw readers will have to work with me a little bit because as I’ve explained before a very common, enteral part of the queer female experience is obsession with other girls’ femininities. We notice things like hair and clothes and makeup on girls far more than straight girls seem to and waaay more than het guys do. A friend of mine who is v butch noticed like minor shit that any of us change in our appearance. Describing in detail a girl’s appearance feels - on a gut level - pretty gay. Now this isn’t a detailed description, but she links this physical trait - this pretty, braided hair her friend has - to loving her.

Now, she is a child in this story. This isn’t a sexual kind of thing in the child’s mind. She’s obviously not “in love” with her friend aged seven. But she is saying her deep, overwhelming love for her friend is inextricably linked - via rhyme scheme - to her feminine appearance.

This incredibly close, quasi homoerotic friendship is a near universal wlw experience and I’m sorry but it differs from straight girls’ close friendships because it’s... a lot. It is “love you to the moon and to Saturn” and obsessing over her clothes and hair and little habits.

And there’s no vocab for this, nothing to prepare you for it and nobody bats an eye because little girls are supposed to be friends with one another but like... you’re way overinvested and often that other girl isn’t and starts to drift away because she isn’t having this language free connection and it’s legit heartbreaking.

Passed down like folk songs

The love lasts so long

This childhood friendship becomes an anecdote, a moment of folkloric storytelling, but it never completely fades away and tapping into this first - not quite sexual but very sapphic - experience is super easy.

And I've been meaning to tell you

I think your house is haunted

Your dad is always mad and that must be why

And I think you should come live with

Me and we can be pirates

This sets up the narrative some people - I understand where y’all are coming from and I am here for it - hear of domestic abuse. The thing is, it’s not Tay’s character who is getting abused. Tay is a small child - and she’s envious of and nostalgic for that era of her life, when she thought that her best best best friend’s asshole dad was simply reacting to ghosts. It speaks to an innocence her character has which may not be shared by her friend, the girl with the braids.

But Tay is innocent and she says “come with me” and run away so we can be pirates together. Now, on a very basic and superficial pop culture level it’s worth noting Keira Knightley in POTC is pretty fundamental to any queer millennial woman’s sexual awakening. However, that’s not what Tay’s referencing here. She’s saying, at least on some level, let’s run away and be gender nonconforming. Again, she’s a small child. She doesn’t know why she wants that. But she doesn’t tell her friend “let’s run away and be princesses” - she wants to be a pirate. It links to the first scene in the song of her being a tomboy in the trees and on the swing, honestly. There were also a number of cross dressing female pirates, many of whom were gay back in the day so it’s a subtle nod to how a lot of childhood fantasies actually are rooted in possible historical fact.

But also come on, every queer girl wanted to be a pirate idk why really we just did. Like I say I can explain it as a desire not to conform to gender norms but it’s also just... another weirdly common fantasy that she’s tapping into.

Like idk this song is so fucking gay and it’s not trying to be but every line is just... felt in my bones. Like little me is seen by this song.

Then you won't have to cry

Or hide in the closet

This is obvi the line people go on about and look. The friend’s dad is clearly an asshole like that’s established. But the line has a double meaning. She’s saying if you run away with me to be a pirate on the high seas you won’t have to cry anymore and you won’t hide in the closet. It’s an innocent thought but it’s also a double meaning, right? You won’t be abused, you won’t be sad. And you’ll be with me out of the closet. It could’ve been “hide under the bed” or “behind the curtains”. But she picked closet. And that word gives this verse a second meaning, which is particularly palpable given as I say this is a very gay song from a thematic standpoint.

And just like a folk song

Our love will be passed on

Again, this is a deeeeep love. This is someone she wants to run away with. And she probably doesn’t know why, she probably doesn’t have the words. She’s a little kid. But this friend of hers is the person she wants to rescue and run away with and be together with even though she - Tay - is pretty content otherwise. In fact, she longs for this time in her life. It was full of beautiful things. And yet despite being happy, she was willing to drop it all for her little female friend she was clearly preoccupied with.

Please picture me

In the weeds

Before I learned civility

I used to scream

Ferociously

Any time I wanted

I, I

Again, this reiterates she is nostalgic for this time period. It was a good time in Taylor’s life. It was a time when she could be herself, before she had learned civility and what was expected from her by society. Which ties back to that thing I said right in the beginning, about how this first quasi sapphic friendship is cherished by queer women because we didn’t know it was weird. We hadn’t “learned civility” yet. We could scream, we could run around and climb trees, and we could ask our friends to run away with us not knowing those thoughts didn’t occur to them with the same intensity.

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross my heart, won't tell no other

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

We’ve discussed this already. It’s still queer coded to me.

Pack your dolls and a sweater

We'll move to India forever

Passed down like folk songs

Our love lasts so long

So she’s once again cementing the fact that this is a little female friend with the dolls, and again suggests running away together and says even though none of that happened and she grew up and realized this... was actually a fairly specific experience not a universal universal one and she learned civility and heteronormativity but this foundational, pure, innocent gay love... will always remain in its complete innocuous harmlessness but immense power.

And so, yeah. This song is probably Taylor’s gayest shortly followed by Treacherous.

But if it means something else to you, I’m by no means taking it away. Anyone can enjoy her music in any way they like.

It’s just weird that most queer women feel their childhood selves are completely seen by this song if it was a complete accident 🤷🏻‍♀️

[luke-o-lophus]

Coming Back to Life Pt.2

Part 1 can be found here

Part 3 is up now!

Sam Wilson , Indian/Desi Reader , Bucky Friendship

“But I want a shower, not a bath”, you whine while Sam half supports half drags you to his bathroom.

“You can barely stand”, Sam says with a roll of his eyes.

“Then how do you know I won’t drown in your goddamn tub if I’m so outta it?”

He mutters curses at that comment and shoves the door open with his shoulder,”I’m gonna get grey hair soon and it’ll be on you.”

You slump heavily on the toilet while he starts running the bath. You drag your toes in little lines on the tiles, leaving small trails of mud. Normally Sam would scream at that, but now he was just glad you had the energy to do something useless. A tap on your shoulder makes you look up and raise your arms above you slowly. Sam wordlessly takes off the jacket, tosses it into a bucket nearby. He raises his brows at the blouse you’re wearing underneath. “That jacket’s too big on you and this is not your mission gear”, he points out, but you just hum in response. Of course this shimmery gold blouse isn’t your mission attire. Sam just sighs hard. This was unusual, really unusual, and it was eating at him. But he knew better than to probe right now. Anyhow, you could go only so long without spilling all the beans to him, or Bucky. If that man didn’t look out for you as much as he did, Sam would’ve wiped off his face the smug grin he got every time you shared something with him first.

Sam returns to the job at hand, testing the water with his fingertips and turning the tap off. You were half asleep where you were seated; he shakes you awake gently. A groan and squint of your eyes, waving your hand at the light he’d turned on. He flicks it off immediately and pulls you to a standing position. A little fumbling with the buttons of your jeans then he kneels to help you pull them off. “I need to keep extra underwear at your place”, you mutter absently.

“I’ll get a shirt for now”, he offers, helping you into the tub and lowering you  into the warm water. “And I’ll tell Barnes to bring over a few sets of your stuff. You’re staying here for a bit.”

Normally, you would’ve argued on that just for the heck of it. Today you just nod and dip further into the water, eyes shut. Sam considers leaving, but another look at you makes him sigh and pull the stool to sit by the tub.

“This is like raising a teenager”, he mutters in mock annoyance and your lips curl to a smile. “I got a headache”, you mumble back and Sam snorts. “Once you’re cleaned up pretty sure we’ll see more than just a headache. Were those rope burns on your arms or what?”, he asks almost casually. You hum again and scoot closer to him, resting your back on the tub's side. Sam knows the drill, this ain’t the first time you’d shown up with well, injuries. But he could swear he’d never seen you so out of it in your headspace. Nevertheless, not the time to bring it up. So instead, he focuses on wetting your hair and squeezing out some shampoo. Lathering up, he starts carding fingers through your locks again, the aromatic foam smoothening the matted hair. It gets hard to keep the fond smile off his face when you relax back almost immediately. Bucky had remembered that shampooing his little sister’s hair used to calm her down. He then tried it that one time he’d found you in the midst of a panic attack. Turns out, you were a sucker for it too.

“I’ll tell you in the afternoon, ‘kay? Tell Buck to wait, please?”, you suddenly pipe up in a small voice when he’s done washing your hair. Sam kisses the top of your head before getting up,”Sure, anything for princess.”

You splutter in indigation at that while he leaves to get clothes, shooting a knowing grin your way. And finally you feel awake enough to process your surroundings.

“Your shorts...almost fit me”, you note with surprise when he’s helping you to his guestroom. “That’s ‘cause they’re not mine. That’s Captain Little Ass’s shorts.”, he chuckles and you giggle at his nickname for Steve. “I really should keep some of my stuff here, everyone else seems to have theirs.” you say. Sam glares at you as he hoists you up onto the bed. “Yeah ‘cause when I bring ladies home what they’ll wanna see is a pair of lacy underwear just hanging around on some chair”, he grumbles and you laugh loudly at that, clutching your side. Your laughs are broken by groans, twinges shooting up from your lip and sides. Sam shakes his head in exasperation and just leaves to get his medi kit. You smile at his retreating figure, wondering what you’d done to deserve him. Turning to a side, there's a glass of milk and a plate with toast and a banana sitting on the bedside table. Seriously, when did he get the time to do that?

“You should just hang up a sign...Free Food and Lodging for Secret Service Personnel in Crisis”, you tease him when he’s back. You’re still sipping the cold milk slowly, cradling the cold glass to your lips. “It’s not like you people give me much of a choice”, he grunts, starting to wrap the ankle you’re limping on with a crepe bandage. “Sure, sure”, you say with a playful twinkle in your eye.

Eating is painful, but Sam doesn’t give in to your puppy eyes. “Not later, now”, he says firmly.

“You just enjoy being a mother hen”, you shoot back. He smirks at that, the cheeky bastard,”Y’know what, maybe I do.”

Bucky is at least two shades paler when he’s knocking at Sam’s door. “Where’s she?”, he demands as soon as the door swings ajar. Sam takes in his sleep tousled hair, bag on one arm and helmet tucked under another. “Good morning to you too”, he grumbles, moving aside for the man to enter. “Don’t fuck with me, Wilson”, he hisses as he almost storms inside. “Jeez man, she’s just sleeping, chill out”, Sam whispers and Bucky almost slumps in relief. He places the things on the table and quietly makes his way to the guestroom, Sam close behind. Bucky leans against the door frame, taking in your form curled up under the sheets and wet dark hair fanning out on the pillow. His eyes narrow on the lines of blackish discoloration on the arm that's not hidden by the blanket. They certainly look like rope burns and he turns to Sam for an explanation. The man shrugs and shakes his head. "She told you to wait up. I'm making coffee...If you drink that sorta thing." He gives the metal shoulder a pat and walks away.

Bucky walks in, frown deepening as he took in the purple swelling of your lip and a cut on the same side of your face. With a deep sigh, he gives your head a small comforting stroke and retreats to the kitchen.

"You're an asshole", he mutters to the Falcon. "Who the fuck texts her name and emergency in all caps and a 'come over with her clothes'?"

"Hey I had my share of scare when she turned up. You didn't have to see how she was then. You deserved that message." Sam takes a sip of the strong black coffee.

"Did she tell you she had a mission?", Bucky purses his lips, cup forgotten in his hands.

"I thought she told you.", Sam shrugs.

"How bad are the injuries?", There's a grimace to that line when spoken.

Sam shakes his head,"She's confident nothing's broken. An ankle sprain, nothing too bad. But likely there'll be more bruises with time. She...keeps wincing whereas there aren't much marks yet."

Bucky rubs the ghost of a headache from his temples,"I feel like there's a 'but' to this, Wilson."

"Well, she was completely zoned out when she came. Sort of a daze? Didn't want to snap out of ..I don't know..'mission mode'?"

Long moments of silence pass while Bucky quietly sips his coffee and weighs the various possibilities. Finally he spoke up.

"She reminds me of Becca", he says, looking out of the window at the world waking up to a new day.

Sam cocks his head,"Man I've never seen your sister but I'm darn sure she looks nothing like Rebecca"

Bucky rolls his eyes, pushing off the seat and going to the sink to wash his cup. "You know what I mean", He says, not unkindly.

It's then that in goodness knows how long, Sam doesn't argue with him.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 12: Pharaoh, a Well Known Magician of Darkness, Swears he Has Never Done That.

I just had the most disappointing cheesecake cup of my entire life, so lets talk about Yugioh. From weird dessert to weird desert. ha.

I mean OK. Sure. I mean they gotta do something while they look for Yugi in a desert that isn’t really known for it’s off-roading, but it also isn’t known for it’s card game scene so...

But then the show decided to fill even more empty time with Rebecca sharing this piece of info when I least expected it. Now. In S4.

Y’all I was SO surprised.

I know that the show is doing this for the people just tuning into Yugioh for the first time but...Man, I’m having flashbacks to that time Yugi didn’t tell anyone that Bakura freakin died for over 40 episodes until Marik had to do it for him.

Yugi never told the girl he gave the friendship card to, that his best friend is ACTUALLY a 4000 yo ghost that haunts his every move. (5000 yo? I forget how old he is)

Tea just patiently reveals all of Yugi’s deepest darkest terrifying occult secrets to Rebecca with a smile on her face the entire time.

That’s girl talk. Can affirm--this is what girl talk looks like.

(read more Girl Talk under the cut)

Her explanation on the show actually did not point out that there is a separate entity with a completely different personality, so I think that people watching the show for the first time would still be hella confused. Instead it was more “this is Yugi’s strong and handsome side which I clearly like WAY MORE, and this is the other one”

Like she kinda left out the part where one is a ghost.

So this scene basically takes away any tension that a 4-way love square would have brought to the table.

And that’s fine. I really didn’t need a love square that involves both a 12 year old and a ghost. For me, as a person who is immune to shipping, it just seemed wildly too complicated for the same writing team who have been trying to bury Kaiba and his relationship with that that paper card since they brought it up in S2.

But apparently no one in this square cares they all kinda like the same person and that this particular person is two people. And as they go on about what they like about Yugi, it’s clear that both girls have made kind of a perfect dream Yugi who...just doesn’t exist at all. Maybe if either of them actually went on more than one date with the boy, they would separate the dream from the reality and realize fully that, in actuality, Yugi and Pharaoh both are a human version of that “hang in there!” poster with the struggling kitten on it.

TBH I think the women in this show forgot they like Yugi, it was a very friendzoning style of conversation.

Meanwhile, Rafael’s giant arms only continue to grow even more muscular with every scene as he tell us the vague deep lore behind this necklace. It’s sort of like watching a webcomic written by a teenager. The muscles keep growing, and growing, but the characters have to keep getting distracted by lore, and then midway the lore drop, the writer goes on a hiatus because of finals and just never comes back so it feels like you’re stuck in lore limbo forever.

I do like that Pharaoh’s like “your necklace is evil, take that off” when he has also been wearing the Oricalchos necklace the entire time.

Maybe because it was just waaay too tempting for Yugi to look at that jewelry and NOT wear that jewelry? Yugi has kind of a magpie problem with accessories, as we all know, and I can’t believe this magpie problem has put him into mortal peril so many times.

And then the show finally does us the favor of explaining why some people go cray when they wear haunted jewelry, and others do not.

Which does not bode well for Ryou. Not like we ever hang out with Ryou enough to find out his personal balance between being a meek little Brishish(ish?) kid that likes to eat cookies and his demon form that likes to stab things. Like seriously, would have liked to know more about Ryou ever at all, but since Season 1 ended, he’s only Ryou for like...2 minutes at a time before he’s back to being wonderful, scene shredding, serial murderer asshole Bakura.

Also, unrelated note, WHAT THE HELL, ART TEAM.

Is that turtleneck just spray painted on??? Why does this guy ever bother with cards? He can just do some punches and probably accomplish the same damn thing and a lot quicker. This man is larger than...any other human that has been on this show.

And so it’s at this point that Rafael’s decided like “ahaha my master plan, I will make Pharaoh doubt himself” and it’s like...

...you actually don't need to give Pharaoh a push, he and Yugi doubt themselves so often they’d list it as one of their hobbies on their edgy Livejournals (because they would keep two)

This fight with Rafael was kinda frustrating, because while most villains make points where it’s like “oh, you were tortured underground your whole life because of something I did in my past life, yeah that checks out.” all of Rafael’s points had so little to do with Pharaoh and were...so easy to debunk...

Like I made the joke about Flat Earther’s the last recap but you know what? I can see Rafael being a Flat Earther. Straight up. You can tell him the sky is blue and he’ll start going off about how all of humanity needs to die because the sky is actually made of Meyer lemons.

Darts even decided to say this line.

Which I thought was mostly funny because Pharaoh still has no idea that thing around his neck can shoot lasers, but also funny because the only reason Yugi has friends is because he initially cursed them to like him in Season Zero. And that wasn’t even Pharaoh, that was YUGI. Rafael is just SO very late to this party.

So, he decides to give Pharaoh an Oricalchos card, and like...

And I don’t believed I capped this part of the last episode, but before they even started this game, Rafael was like “yeah I let Arthur go.”

So...there’s no reason for Yugi to be here anymore other than the bridge is out. There are NO stakes in this game. Other than...Pharaoh’s pride?

I guess it’s one of the problems of sharing a soul with a King who we’re 90% sure did some pretty effed up stuff at some point because he’s a King. That’s just what they DO, I’ve played Fire Emblem, I know how Kings work.

Like we could just sit down and make a list of things that Pharaoh and Yugi did that ended up really screwing him over. (And hearing that nitroglycerin air hockey happens somewhere in the manga does make me want to take a peek at it eventually but I have too much on my to do list)

Like for instance, there was that time he took a fireball for Mai thinking she was a decent person and she ended up killing over 20 people with a gas station and is now a Mad Max Style serial murderer racing down the 101, and actively trying to kill him and more specifically Joey Wheeler.

Or that time he took the ultimate bullet and died but left his tomb to the most asshole tombkeeper family cult known to man who like to carve tattoos onto children with old ass hot butcher knives for thousands of years.

Or that time he thought Namu wasn’t Marik when Marik had insane tattooed eyeliner and a millennium item sticking like 8 inches out of his back pocket the entire time. Could’ve saved him like...2 seasons of content if he just yoinked that item right then and there.

Or that time he actually tried to murder Seto Kaiba. Like actually tried to push his own classmate off of a steep ledge and would have done it if Tea hadn’t intervened.

Or that time he did...a lot of the things that Yugi did in Season Zero and the Manga.

I just feel like...this is our boy. He’s meant to be this gray area protagonist who is trying to do the right thing but at the same time does enjoy his dark tendency towards revenge. Yami is sort of like having the best of both worlds where you can be both villain and hero. He doesn’t need to be a polarizing force like Superman or something.

And...it feels a little bit like the narrative is trying to say he has finally stepped over the line of gray area and it’s like...he’s been here kind of a while, bud. But honestly, if it makes Pharaoh go a little Zero I’m here for it. Why not? It’s been a while, I want to see him go nuts again.

And I mean Yugi hasn’t had a meltdown in kind of a while, we were overdue. I assume that’s all of next episode is just Yugi freaking the hell out.

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to take you to the first episode where you can then read the entire epic in chrono order.

[crowmero]

Meme taken from summer-grace16 I hope you don’t mind (:

Names of otome games you play:

Games where I’m active right now:

Midnight Cinderella.

Wizardess Heart.

Corazón de Melón / My Candy Love.

Games were I log from time to time:

Ikemen Sengoku.

Eldarya.

Blood in Roses.

Love Tangle.

Lost Alice.

Love tangle in Niflheim.

Ikemen Vampire.

Mystic Messenger.

Ghost Love.

EPHEMERAL: Mini Garden.

Obey Me.

PC Games:

Cute Demon Crashers.

Lost in Secular Love.

From the otome games you play, list your top 5 favorite characters. Meaning take your favorite characters from the game and list them.

Klaus Goldstein (Wizardess Heart)

Albert Burckhardt (Midnight Cinderella)

Lysandro Ainsworth (My Candy Love)

Sigurd Curtis (Wizardess Heart)

Priya (My Candy Love)

Special Mention: Skeletiano (The Niflheim) because is the best and most sweet skeleton in the whole world.

What was the first otome game you ever played?

Corazón de Melón (My Candy Love).

What made you fall for your number one favorite character?

The only reason why Klaus is there is because I really liked him for a very long time and right after playing his route when I started playing Wizardess Heart, but pretty much the other four deserve spotlight too, is kinda hard to put one over the others.

Klaus Goldstein

(Here is where Klaus haters get a good laugh about me)

I actually don’t know why I fall in love with him because he is a asshole (maybe I’m really into meanie fictional guys) but I love him so much. Klaus is the very indiscutible king of Wizardess Heart and the number one character of the game, you hate it or you love it, or you ignore him completely.

Klaus is almost perfect: He is handsome, he is rich, he has status, he is smart, capable, he has everything to win and conquer the world. The reason why many people is not into him, is because he has a really dreadful and sadistic character from the start. I guess because he was still a student in his first story, his immaturity shows, so he treats MC really poorly and for him, she is a idiot and a nuisance. Right off the bat he call her “Bunnyhead”. Talking with other friends, we agree that the only reason why he took the personal challenge of help MC to improve her grades and abilities is because his grades were in jeopardy too and because he gets the opportunity of fullifying his personal wish of be a teacher and help people (YES! surprisingly he has a very humanitarian way of think).

We learn that Klaus is not really good at showing or admitting his true feelings (he is not very sincere and he gets really embarrassed of showing his good side, like he things showing his true feelings is some kind of weakness). You kinda get it, since Klaus have to grow in a very fake environment since he is nobility, you have to pretend and people would try to get close to you, just to get something from you. So that’s why Klaus looks and acts really cold at the start.

Klaus is actually a very passionate, compasive and very caring person and he really cares for his family and close friends. I know some of his takes (speacily with his brothers) were not good, so I really hope he could work to make things better for them.

The romance is good! The MC gets teased a ton, but I loved that he would never cross the line if you don’t want to, something I really appreciated, but I do really enjoyed all the romantic moments with him. I think the only thing I really craved was having a wedding or something like that in his story, but my guess is that probably is not Klaus style at all.

I think I get over the top with this explanation (really?) I think I really need to talk more loud about my characters.

Are you waiting for a new otome game that is coming out this year? If so, which one and when is it coming out? Chou No Doku! 

IS ALREADY OUT!

I don’t know you people, but I was really intrigued with this game since I read the review, and also is a porn game with twisted bad endings, but the art of the illustrations are great!!! and I have a mighty need to experience the game myself. The three bad sides: I don’t have a phone right now to play and the other is that the company releasing the game is know for buggy/poorly done games and since is a portable, probably they cut the pornografic content. Also, looks like the game is more expensive in this version than the original -sigh-

Out of the otome games you play, which game you would recommend the most and why? (Note: You can pick top 3 if you want but I would also love to see the number one game you play the most.)

WIZARDESS HEART

For the time I started writing this meme, the sad news about this game were not announced yet, but still I want to talk about how great this game is.

I understand this game is silly and a total ripoff of Harry Potter and also could sit like a bit childish for some players, and while I laughed this things at the start, this game become really meaningful to me in the long run.

There is a ton of LI’s in this game (over +20) so there is really options to all the players, there is good and bad but is really entertaining to discover every story and point of view of every character of this game. I totally love everyone, even the bad guys.

There is a bunch of trivia, you get to learn a lot about the magical world and the universe where this characters live so taking classes never gets boring.

You don’t only get to get romance and lovey dovey moments, you also get to resolve a mystery in every route, so at least if you’re not much of the romantic part, you would like to learn more about the general mysteries of the game.

Something I really loved too was that when the universe expanded more and more with the new characters, the interactions between them developed too and was really sweet to know how some of the LI’s formed bonds of friendship and seeing this interactions and slice of life moments really enriched my experience on this game as a player looking for some fun and comfort.

You get to get a ton of illustrations for free in every route, something I really appreciate because in other games you hardly get illustrations, or you have to pick the right answer or you have to paid for it, you don’t need to worry about it playing this game, just enjoy the story.

There is no NSFW content of this game (and this could be good or bad depending of your preferences) but there could be some sexual undertones depending of the route (especially with the most older LI’s) and of course there is some fanservice but nothing too crazy.

This is the game I recommended to my close friends so while not everyone's got full into it because the language barrier, more of least they tried to taste the experience and I enjoyed the years I spended talking about this game and every route I played so far.

I take this meme just for my own entertainment (probably I was really busy with work) so everyone who wants to respond this feel free to do it and tag me if you want to. 

Use the tag #cuteotometag.

[likesolastalgia]

In which I have felt endless feelings about Grantaire and Marius’s west end friendship (lookin’ at you, Adam Filipe) and also just endless feelings in general. 

ft. bromance, complaining about relationships, the usual

-

It happens more often than it should.

Maybe if they were dramatic teenagers, or characters in a sitcom, or if they existed in any form of larger-than-life media where it was acceptable to place the entirety of your dwindling self-worth into the hands of someone who actively disliked you, that’swhen it would have made sense. But as it is, when it comes to Enjolras, Grantaire just keeps fucking up: over and over.

It’s cooler outside than he expects, after the heat of too many bodies in the too small space of Courfeyrac and Marius’s apartment. Maybe it’s that he’s too hot too, worked up almost to a state of panic. And sure, he shouldn’t have run away from the situation, cowardly, as always, but he can’t imagine that anyone there was too pleased with the mood dampener of the same argument that his every interaction with Enjolras seemed to turn into. He can’t imagine that he could have stood much more of that interaction in the first place.

So, as usual, he ran.

He’s hoping for some kind of solitude, the kind where he can fume silently, cling to some sort of outdated constructs of masculinity while he pretends he’s not on the verge of crying over a boy, and then return to the party to get as drunk as he possibly can. As plans go, he thinks it’s a pretty good one.

His plans are thwarted, however, when he rounds a corner of the building and sees someone already sitting on the bench by the street. The person turns at the sound of footsetps, waving him over, and his heart sinks. Marius. He’s not sure he can deal with this right now.

He sits down on the edge of the bench, nods a greeting in Marius’s direction. For a moment, neither of them speak.

“So, what are you doing out here?” Grantaire asks, finally.

“I’m not a big fan of crowds,” Marius responds, which Grantaire guesses is probably true, but it strikes him as only half an explanation.

“Yet you live with the most social member of our friend group.”

Marius doesn’t respond to that, just watches as Grantaire fumbles lighting a cigarette, then he throws his question back to him. “Why are you here?”

“I’m not a fan of harsh judgement.” God, why was Enjolras even here? Grantaire would have thought he hated parties. “Or being shouted at about political theory, or just in general.”

“Did something happen between you guys?” Marius asks tentatively.

Grantaire laughs, loud and unamused. “Something happen between me and Enjolras? Fuck no. Whatwould give you that idea?” He recognizes that he’s being harsh, too loud, too belligerent, too drunk. Enjolras’s words thrown back in his face.

He takes a deep breath and then another, followed by a drag of his cigarette. “I’m sorry,” he says, finally.

Marius breaks his stunned silence, “No I’m sorry!”

“I’m an asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole,” Marius responds immediately, and something about the sincerity in his tone makes Grantaire’s throat tighten.

He hunches his shoulders, wants nothing more than to curl into himself completely. He feels Marius’s eyes on him, concerned, and he can still hear Enjolras’s words ringing in his ears, can feel the silence that followed: deafening in its loudness. He has to leave, he decides. He knows Courfeyrac will be annoyed at him for going early and knows for sure that Joly will chew him out later for his, well, every action that night, but right now, the only thought on his mind is that he has to go.

And anyway, he knows that if he stays here any longer, with the sounds of the party still drifting down the street from the brightly lit balcony like a constant reminder of his failure, he’s almost definitely going to cry, and he can’t do that to Marius. The kid is already so awkward, Grantaire can only imagine how much worse he would make things by bringing even more unwarranted emotion to the situation than he has already.

“Do you really want to know why I left?” Marius asks quietly and Grantaire has to admit, it’s unexpected.

He shrugs, realizes he’s still being an asshole and nods instead, into the hand he’s dropped his face into.

“Well, she’s here. You know, the girl?” The Girl, Grantaire knows the one. He nods again. “She introduced herself to me and we talked, sort of. She’s so nice and so cool. It was like she knew every person there and I, well,” Marius falters and Grantaire wipes his face on his sleeve before turning to face him. He’s wearing a kind of pained expression and he’s not looking at Grantaire anymore, is staring down at his hands instead which are clenched tightly in his lap.

“So, your girlfriend has some friends, and?” Grantaire hopes his voice doesn’t sound as strained out loud as it does in his own head.

“It’s not that she has friends,” Marius continues. “It’s that she has so many. She belongs here so perfectly, it’s like she seems to belong everywhere. She’s charming and sweet and she always knows the right thing to say and I - I’m - she deserves better.”

Oh. Oh.

Part of Grantaire wants to take Marius by the shoulders and shake sense into him. Another part of him just wantsto cry again.

“Pontmercy, did you physically ghost a girl who was actively flirting with you because, and I quote, she deserves better?”

Marius bites his lip. Anyone else would have argued with him, or at the very least taken offence at his aggressive tone, but Marius just sighs and then very quietly, as if he’s afraid that speaking the words too loudly might make them true, says, “I don’t even think she was flirting with me.”

He looks so small, tucked into a corner of the bench, staring at nothing, and picking at his cuticles. Grantaire scoots closer to him until their shoulders are almost touching.

“Look at us,” Grantaire says, with a bitter kind of exhaustion that he usually tries not to give into until much later in the night, when he’s alone, curled up in bed, preferbaly drunk enough to ignore anything that could possibly manifest into a feeling. “We’re going to be alone forever.”

Marius barely acknowledges him, and Grantaire immediately feels a pang of guilt. Marius doesn’t deserve any of this, the self-hatred and shame that never seems to hit him harder than when he’s been around Enjolras, the fear of rejection pricking at his temples like the start of a headache.

Grantaire flicks the end of his ciegarette onto the ground, watches the red glow of its tip burn down into nothing.

He doesn’t think he can stand much more of this.

He leans sideways until his head rests against Marius’s shoulder, squeezes his eyes shut. For a moment, Marius tenses and Grantaire is worried that once again, he’s fucked up, ruined the situation by injecting it with his own desperate need for comfort, but then Marius shifts beside him, bringing his arm up around Grantaire’s shoulders.

“Is it like that with him too?” Marius asks, simply, and not for the first time, Grantaire thinks that he’s more perceptive than any of them give him credit for.

He can’t bring himself to talk about it, barely even wants to think too hard, so he just nods once into Marius’s jacket, feels the arm around him tighen briefly.

“It’s ok,” Marius says, knowing and gentle, and Grantaire needs him to stop being such a good person, stop putting the situation together so perfeclty in his head because this sort of understanding makes him feel inexplicably worse in the face of his own self-hatred. “It’ll be ok.”

Neither of them talks for a while. Grantaire takes deep breaths through his nose and Marius pats his shoulder every now and then and the vicious spinning of the world around them slows gradually until everything comes back into a sort of dim focus: normality, Grantaire thinks.

“Can I have a cigarette?” Marius asks, after a moment, and Grantaire gives a snort that’s maybe a laugh as he pulls away.

“Yeah, sure.”

Marius smiles.

[ldaoec]

Bad Friend.

You told me it goes both ways. If I thought you were ghosting, I could’ve reached out. And, I would just like some congratulations, a little acknowledgement of the self-restraint I showed when I didn’t reply with, “Fuck you.” Actually, I did. “Fuck you.” “Fuck off.” “…This asshole.” Those were my responses when your texts would come in, but I, I was working towards reconciliation. I was being kind. I was hearing you out, giving you a chance. Because, here’s the thing, asshole— I wanted it to work out. I missed you. But, you did the damage. You did the breaking. You broke us, and me, and you did it twice. You cheated on me. “I read the poems. I know you felt that way, I just didn’t understand why.” Like, that’s a difficult one? “I don’t understand why you felt like I cheated,” is one of the stupidest things you’ve ever said, and that is saying something. You read the poetry. You studied it, analyzed it, memorized it, and that was me. That was my reality. You didn’t have to agree, but that was where I was. You broke me. You cheated. You ruined a friendship that I can see, in hindsight, was not worth all that much. I cannot understand or fathom the audacity, the selfishness to think you should be able to reach out with anything less than a groveling, hands-and-knees apology for what you did. Because, the poetry is my reality. That’s where I am at, and you are not allowed to argue with that. Your options were to come back into my life on my terms, or stay in whatever evolutionary slime you’ve, thus far, failed to evolve from, and you chose to come into my life— … Three months after writing that line, I come back to a poem I couldn’t finish. Because, my brain was too loud, and every poem I started got tangled up in my throat, in my mind, in my fingers, on their ways across my keys, and I never finished. I never completed the thought, because anger is a different language, and I did not know the translation. It’s been three months since I started this poem, and I think I can explain it simply: You reached out to me. You knew I was in pain, knew you could hurt me, and you took that risk. So, the responsibility of making it work, of not doing any more damage, rested entirely on you. Despite that, I spent two weeks clearing out a room for you, in my brain. I dusted off the boxes, laid out the war plans, “I know it says to decimate on site, but, actually, this was planned by the part of my brain that is scared of being left. See? That’s her handwriting.” I was trying to make it work. I did more than my due diligence, and you ghosted on the three anniversary of the day you said, “Goodbye, Sam.” I gave you a full explanation of the trauma responses I only just figured out. So, when you ghosted, no. It didn’t go both ways. Because, I had more than proven what I was willing to do to make it work. I told you how much I loved you. I showed you how hard I was willing to work to make a good foundation to build a friendship on. Not go back to the one we had, before. Build a new one, two adults with a lot of history, a lot of hurt, but who’s souls seemed, still, a little connected. You are the one who hurt me. You are the one who got the email — closure, a full explanation, it wasn’t you, it was me … except, it was you. It was you who went away with another girl, it was you who reached out, over, and over, and over, and it was you who needed to prove you wanted friendship, like you said, not closure, like I gave you. It was you who needed to prove that, after reading that email, you were going to stick around. You were going to try and make it work. Instead, you ghosted. One, two, three days, and it wasn’t ghosting. Not really. It was your text, not coming through, and so me, not responding to dead-end text. “I didn’t really give you lead on in the conversation,” you told me. Not now. Not now that you had your closure. Three years, and you reach out, and you are still not making an effort. Dead end texts, the kind of texts I’ve gotten from other boys, and ignored, because I am not a dancing monkey, and while I am clever enough to carry a conversation for two, I have too much self respect to do it. So, I ask you if you still want to be friends. “This is beginning to wear on me,” you say, and I don’t tell you that you reaching out has devastated and decimated my mental health, that I have not been sleeping, that I am crying, most nights, having panic attacks in the kitchen that leave me feeling nauseated, like I might pass out, and this is a direct result of you reaching out to me, when you didn’t have the time or the inclination to make it work, setting off a grenade in the ruins of the rectory, the same church that has seen your attacks time and time again. I do not tell you that you feeling ‘weary’ is not more important than me, who was minding her own business, trying to fucking heal, feeling decimated. I should’ve told you feeling worn wasn’t my responsibility. That’s what you did. “I’m not responsible for your feelings,” you said. “I shouldn’t still have this sway on you,” you said. In essence, you flipped. From wanting to be friends to condemning me, blaming me, because of the bare minimum I was asking of you. I more than proved to you that I loved you, and that I was willing to make this work. That this friendship was worth building up from the ashes. You were the one who had something to prove. You were the one who’s words and actions didn’t match up. You are the one who ghosted. And you are the one who stopped making an effort once he got his closure. Three months after I started this poem, and it turns out it was very simple to summarize. I just needed a little time, a little distance, and some perspective, so that I can put into words — for a second time, because I was perfectly clear to you, the first— that this was never my responsibility to fix.

Kiwi Foster © 10/3/21

I certainly hope past me did a good job editing that. Because, I’m not about to read it, again.

[ghost-avalyn]

After many hours of deliberation I came up with some answers to a questionnaire for Denver. <3 Questions can be found here! Some of the answers have dialogue, some have no dialogue, some are both.

Answers and stuff under the cut.

1.) What is your guardian’s name? What does it mean? What inspired you to choose that name for them?

Denver. No real reason, thought it was cute and when a name strikes me I usually stick with it because I'm chronically bad at naming.

2.) What did your guardian name their ghost? What does it mean? What inspired them to choose that name?

Her name is Avalyn. It means “beautiful breath of life”. The name is fairly self-explanatory. Mostly, he calls her Av.

“Heh, funny story. I was rezzed in a bookstore... I can't read. Av deciphers things for me, so it's not really worth it to learn. Anyways. I asked her what I could call her before I even figured out my own name. She took my request seriously and I helped her by turning the pages of some old-ass books. She found the name Avalyn. She seemed to like it, and she deserves a name she likes. So we kept it.”

3.) What is your guardians favorite weapon of choice? What mod do they use for it? Do they have a masterwork on it and if so, how many enemies have they killed with that weapon?

“Crimson looks pretty sweet with the gold studs. But I don't care about guns too much. Next question.”

4.) Do they participate in the Crucible often or do they just go to complete the daily challenges?

He likes participating in the Crucible to be immersed in the energy of battle and to screw around. He can't bring himself to care much about actually competing. He has an exposition kink so he's all about showing off his flips 'n shit.

“There are challenges? Man, that's news. I like showing off my flips, running around the maps, fucking around with the guardians. They're fun. They take things so seriously.”

5.) If your guardian had to choose to be another class, what class would they pick? Or would they stay the same?

He'd probably stay the same. The idea of being a big strong titan might appeal to him briefly, but only if his size were to change and I don't think it works that way.

“Oh! Would I get taller if I became a Titan? Unless it'd make me a bigger, beefier version of myself, no dice. I'd make a pretty lame Warlock, too.”

6.) What is their favorite subclass within their own class?

He's an Arcstrider, he knows no other life. Arc energy flows naturally for him, as if it chose him. The body movement with Arc Staff suits his innate connection to his center of gravity.  

“Arcstrider for sure. If I was smarter, maybe I could figure out how to use different energy. Maybe I'm just lazy, I don't know. I needed Arc energy more than the others and it kinda came to me naturally. I'm not the Avatar over here.”

7.) What is their favorite subclass in a different class?

I wanted to go with something other than Striker, but, he has a strong affinity for Arc and can't help but admire the amount of force and energy that super utilizes.

“Strikers are sexy.”

8.) Would they rather receive a titan kiss ( a hard ass headbutt that mostly results in death ), asking a warlock a question that might result in a long explanation, or deciding to play the knife game with hunter and bet at high stakes?

“That's a tough one. But uh, probably go with the knife-game, it sounds fun.”

9.) Would they prank other guardians or just their close friends? What kind of pranks would they pull?

He'd be fairly cordial with any guardian that hadn't already pranked him in some way – that would be the green light. Except Dutch, he will forever be [attempting to] push him off ledges to get a rise out of that exo.

“I won't mess with a guardian I don't know. Unless, you know, they prank me first. But then we officially know each other, and it's fair game. With Dutch, I'm always trying to pull a fast one on him and somehow the fucker is always one step ahead of me. Do Exos have literal eyes on the back of their heads?”

10.) Which vanguard member to they like to hang out with the most?

He likes chilling with Cayde. He wants to learn more about Exos, and even if Cayde doesn't offer much in the way of knowledge, it's a nice breather to visit him every once in a while as he's a total opposite to Dutch personality-wise.

“Cayde is my bro. The other Vanguard members seem kinda... high strung for me. They don't like me very much anyways. Cayde doesn't mind when I show up unannounced, he's always up for company, and sometimes I need a break from Dutch's seriousness.”

11.) Who would they fmk out of Skolas, Ghaul, and Calus?

“I'd fuck the Fallen guy, marry the rich guy, and kill the asshole. Is there any other way to answer this question?”

12.) What kind of hobbies do they do in their free time? Are there any particular skills they have that help them with this hobby(s)?

“People watching, clubbing, dancing... Just hanging out.”

13.) What is their favorite armor set and what shader do they use for it?

Kairos armor set with Shinobu's vow, and Omolon Meteor Gloss.

14.) Do they prefer silence or are they unbothered in loud areas?

Denver is not a fan of silence. He didn't really think much about this until he started his life at The Tower and felt quite at home with the relative amount of chaos.

“I like loud areas with a lot of different things to pay attention to. Silence is boring.”

15.) Are they afraid of storms? If so, is there a specific reason why?

Nope, he loves them. The white noise calms him, the thunder claps excite him, and he absorbs arc energy considerably better in this kind of weather.

“Stormy weather is my favorite. I've been struck by lightning a few times. I'm pretty sure that's what happened. I was able to run off that energy and power my town for days without stopping.”

16.) Who were they before their ghost revived them? Do they know about this and if so how or what did they use to learn about themselves?

Denver grew up with his mother in a group of ten or so refugees far from any new-age civilization. They stuck together in a small pack, doing a lot of foraging to meet their basic needs. The group didn't get involved in war/political affairs and mainly kept to themselves.

“I dunno, but I don't think about the past much even when it's something I do remember.”

17.) How close are your guardian and their ghost? If they are not close, would your guardian kill their ghost and choose to answer the darkness’ calls?

They are best friends, partners in [sorta] crime. Avalyn calls Denver out on any of his bullshit but follows him loyally wherever they go.

“I love Av. We do everything together. She helps me out so much, and she makes a lot of good points about life-stuff.”

18.) Would your guardian engage in a romantic relationship with Fallen, Cabal, Hive, etc? If so, what do they find attractive about the species?

I don't know that he's ever considered it.

“Hm, Fallen are pretty good-looking. But romance? There's a bit of a language barrier there.”

19.) Who is their favorite lore hero? Example, Jolder, Saint-14, Andal Brask, etc. Why is this person their favorite and in what ways do they inspire your guardian? What would your guardian say if they were face to face with them?

He's heard some stories about Andal through his relationship with Cayde-6, he admires the strength of their friendship and wishes he was able to know the guy in person.

20.) Does your guardian like plants? If so, what kinds? Do they prefer flowers or trees or shrubs? Would they start a garden?

“Trees are nice, I guess. Especially those huge ones on Nessus.”

21.) If your guardian became obsessed with something, what would it be?

“Why do the exos get reset??? Does it shift them farther away from who they really are, is it convenient, and if it is convenient, to who?”

22.) Do they like reading books or watching movies or both? What genres are their favorites? Does their fireteam have the same taste?

Denver prefers watching movies because it can be a co-op experience. He can absorb the information with someone else and bounce it off of them, figuring out how his experience aligns with others'.

“Movies are cool with friends. I don't read. If I really wanted to, I could have Av help me read something, but I dunno. I'd rather have a conversation with someone who knows what they're talking about.”

23.) What kind of music do they like? Do they dance around anybody in any situation or in the privacy of their quarters? What would their favorite song from the Golden Age be?

He prefers future bass like “Exhale Therapy” by Conrank, or psychedelic pop, see “Feel it Still” by Portugal. The Man. But anything with a good beat is accepted.

“Hell yeah! I'll dance anywhere, everywhere, for anyone who's willing to watch. ;)”

24.) What does their living space look like? Are there a bunch of pictures around or do Knick knacks cover the shelves? Do they enjoy bright, neutral, or dark colors? Would they purchase a fur rug?

“My living space? Oh right. I have a bunk, but I don't spend much time there. Dutch's house is way nicer.”

IMO Denver lives in a shared living quarters with several other lower-ranked Guardians. He spends many more nights with Dutch-9 in his swank-ass modern-looking house, or Cayde's living quarters. He doesn't settle in one particular area, he can even be found couch surfing in the city. As far as personal belongings such as clothing, he does fancy bright, obnoxious coloring and is sometimes known to collect knick-knacks to adorn Avalyn's shell [with her approval] or just to collect dust in his bag/vault.

25.) Do they travel around the city often? If so, what are their favorite places to go and who do they go with? Are the civilians ever excited to see them or do they give them a look because of precious mishaps that resulted in property damage?

He does travel the city often. He likes anything that can be done in tandem with other people. Rather than dragging friends along, he tends to insert himself into groups easily, usually at bars/clubs, making tons of acquaintances and not many close friends. He likes to feel like he “knows people” and makes conversation with the owners of the buildings, yearning for a sense of belonging. Since his found-family from the refugee town was taken in by the city, he also visits them often to check on how city life is treating them and helps them out any way he can. He definitely has done some damage to local venues but does everything in his power to make it right when that happens.

26.) Are they good with kids? If not, how do they react when a child tries to talk to them? If they are good with kids, what kind of things do they do to entertain them?

“Kids are awesome. They're just... authentic, you know? I want to hear about their perspective on things. But I'll show them Arc-staff tricks if they're not into telling me their ideas about the world.”

27.) Are they in love with Shaxx?

“He's a great hype-man. I dig his enthusiasm. In love? Nah, but I have a normal amount of love for him.”

28.) When your guardian sleeps, are they stiff and stay in one spot or wild and kick off the sheets? Do they have nightmares often and if so, about what? How often do they sleep?

He's a bed hog, sprawling out his limbs and tossing and turning frequently. Sometimes known to react violently to being prodded if his partner wants to grab some of the blanket.

“Yeah, I've been told I'm a restless sleeper. I disagree, I'm a heavy sleeper. But... I guess I do take up more than my side of the bed. I love sleeping. Can I add that to my hobbies?”

29.) Do they enjoy coffee, tea, soda, or water? Would they mix all of these together and drink the liquid on a dare?

“Leaf water and mud water is nasty. I'll drink soda all day, but Av reminds it's not great for my stomach. Oh, a dare? Definitely.”

30.) What about their personality attracts other guardians to them? What is it about other guardians that attracts your guardian to them?

“My personality? I'm mostly nice, so maybe that's why I have an easy time making friends. And other guardians... Well, everyone has a story. I like to find out their side of things. See what makes them tick. It works out well, because everyone loves talking about themselves... Almost.”

[reddeadredemptiontrash]

Also cute dude needs to pull his fucking head innnn. Interested in an update with what co-worker has to say on Monday but also I hope this goes well for you and doesn't make you seems desperate. There's a chance cute dude could go full asshole and make you out to be crazy so he doesn't look bad for all the horrible things he's done/essentially ghosting you. I just hope you're prepared for that outcome. Co-worker could potentially start avoiding you as well without explanation after their chat.

An update as to what happen is dude didn’t stop in, which I worked an early shift and he usually doesn’t come in after the evenings when they all go home for the day.

And yes, I’m perpared, but these two coworkers are good friends with one of my other friends and my brother in law, and they both look out for me due to it. When I started talking to cute dude, I asked.... let’s call him Larry (not the one I asked him about last week) if he was a good guy and should I stay clear and he was like “you don’t have to worry, *cute dude* is a good guy, a bit of a loser (said it jokingly) but he’s a good dude.

Cute dude hasn’t opened my message where I kind of exploded on him, about him ghosting me and I’ve just kind of lost hope.🤷🏻‍♀️

My co-worker who was super excited when we started talking because she’s friends with his mom and saw him as he grew up is even annoyed. I told her that if his coworker stops in while I’m not there (I work 3rd tonight and I’m off until middle of next week for vacation) to ask for me, because she knows everything about the situation and she told me she’d text me or call me and let me know if he knows anything.

It just really sucks. He still views all of my Snapchat stories and stuff I post and it just pisses me off even more because I KNOW he sees that he has that notification of an unopened message from me. I’m trying to just stay away from him altogether but it sucks when I see his car going to and from work, I see him outside his work usually when I leave from mine, every time I see a yellow car I get real shook and think it’s him, I have to pass by his house to go to town.

I don’t want to forget him, which sounds super sad but I promise I’m over the sad phase of it. I’m just angry and annoyed.

One of my other coworkers got super mad at me and scolded me for trying to give him a chance to explain. She was like “you don’t NEED an explanation, you want one and what’s it going to do? Tell him to fuck off because you’re mentally fucking yourself with everything and he fucked you over. He’s an asshole.”

And the problem I have with that is he wasn’t an asshole, he never showed any signs of doing something like this. I mean fuck, the last conversation we had face to face at his house he told me he was lucky to have someone like me (keep in mind, neither of us had made ANY moves. We never did anything sexual ((not to be a tmi)) and the closest we got is semi cuddling on the couch and had our legs together, but I don’t even consider that and hugging when we left each other) and that he hated it because I didn’t have to be supportive over his problems because they didn’t involve me and I told him I was there and supportive him because I understood he was only trying to do the right thing and I understood things were complicated and I wouldn’t leave him unless he wanted me to, and he was like “nononono, I don’t want you to leave. I like having you here, your presence is nice.”

Yes, I know I don’t NEED an explanation, yes I WANT one. My anxiety wants one, because right now, every single fucking day that goes by I create all these scenarios in my head of what could have happened, and I can’t control it. If you have high functioning anxiety, then you’ll understand when I say that I can’t physically help my mind running like it does. Even things that aren’t related to him, I overthink. Everything in my life I overthink all the possibly scenarios that could happen/could have happened. It would give me some closure or clarification at least, as to what happened. But right now it doesn’t make sense. I know it wasn’t me, and I’m like 99% sure it has to do with his toxic ex, but I don’t want to jump down his throat and assume things when there’s chances are that it IS just him.

To completely shut me out so suddenly is strange to me, because even after a few days when we started talking, we ended up clicking so well that he had told me about his ex, I told him about the last dude I talked to, how bad we both got hurt, how we shared similar views and opinions on relationships and such, and things were okay.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t messaged me after that one time he came into the store. If I hadn’t made the first move and started talking to me. If I hadn’t hung out with him that night we drove around in his car all night. If I hadn’t started a friendship with him. I wouldn’t be in the situation I am now.

I’m mad at myself for still giving him the benefit of doubt, that I don’t hate him, I don’t want to tell him to fuck off because I feel like that’s childish. I want to sit down with him, face to face and talk through things because we’re both adults and it feels like the right thing to do, in my head and gut feeling.

I know I probably won’t get that, but I just want to keep hoping that there’s a chance he’ll message me or I’ll run into him and we can talk things out.

I generally miss him as a friend, pushing all the crush stuff aside. He was there for me during a really rough time, helped me through it, I considered him a really good friend, and I get he was going through a lot of personal stuff too a couple weeks ago, I was as well and he’s told me many times that when things go wrong, he tends to shut himself out from everyone, not talk to anyone, not tell anyone what’s wrong because he wasn’t good about talking about his feelings and emotions and that people usually leave him because of it. It added up, his mom and I talked about him as a teenager and she said and told me things that matched up, so I don’t think he ever lied to me about that or his life. It just sucks going from talking to someone every day to not at all so suddenly and quickly. I miss our good morning texts to each other, asking each other about our days, getting those “if you work today I’ll see by and see you” texts. Just small things.

I just don’t want to give up on him, if something is wrong, you know? But I want to tell him “completely ignoring and avoiding someone isn’t the same as pushing them away” I used to push people away, I still do sometimes not intentionally because of my anxiety and depression because I don’t want to burden people with my problems and I’m afraid that they won’t understand the thoughts that go on in my head, especially because so many people label me as a very happy person when 90% of the time I’m not.

But I don’t completely stop talking to everyone. I don’t avoid seeing my friends. I don’t skip over the “we need to talk about something important” part of conversations and... that’s what he does.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on a rant there, but I think the main thing that’s killing me most is just how sudden and strange everything happened, and I guess I’m worried that if I keep trying, even just sending a “I hope you’re okay” message it’s going to come off as clingy and annoying, and I’m not trying to make it seem like that, I’m just generally concerned that somethings really wrong and he’s playing it up like everything’s okay when it’s not.

I don’t know.

I think this is one of the first times I’ve had time to properly type out my exact thoughts and word it the way I want. The other time is a letter that I wrote to give to him, but I don’t want to do that. I’d much rather stick to my “talk in person” plan, but in the last message I sent him, I was like “I won’t message you anymore if something has happened or you don’t want to talk to me anymore. I don’t really understand why, but I’ll understand and leave you alone if so, but you need to talk to me and tell me instead of whatever this is. I could send you what I’m currently thinking and feeling right here over messages, but I’d really prefer to talk in person if you could.”

[dadvans]

the ghost ship that didn’t carry us

egobang :: m :: game grumps :: arin wakes up in a parallel universe where he married dan instead of suzy. 

(i’ve had a number of requests to repost this, since i pulled it from ao3 a few months ago!  it was originally posted last april, and have been really heartened to hear how many people enjoyed it since it was taken down.  so in honor of april fool’s day, my take on Wake Up Married: 

It’s not like Arin’s never thought about it--him, Dan.  Arin’s had a few dozen thousand very gay thoughts about Dan, because Dan is Dan.  Dan’s not just unconventionally attractive, he’s hot, he’s scorching to such a degree that Arin would worry that if Dan actually got his mouth on Arin’s junk that all the ball hair would be singed off by sheer proximity. If Arin hadn’t met his soulmate at age fourteen, eyes locking across the crowded hall of an anime convention, he’d be the first to admit without any hesitation that Dan would probably have turned him totally, completely into a brunch-loving, pastel-wearing cock sucker.  Dan would have full dibs on his butthole, and there’s no shame in knowing it.  

But there’s a difference between Arin knowing he’d go ass over teakettle gay for Dan and actually doing the do.  For one, he’s married.  For two, well--well, he’s happily married.  There isn’t really a three, except maybe Arin wouldn’t be willing to risk his two best friendships with his wife and his Danny just to see if he likes the taste of dick in his mouth or the feel of Dan’s curls between his fingers.  He’s lucky enough to have what he has in life, and it would be beyond greedy to ask for anything more.

Which is why it is more than a little confusing when he wakes up naked in Dan’s bed.

“Dan?  The fuck?” he says, taking in the naked tangle of their limbs and torsos and Dan’s morning wood heavy with piss rubbing against his thigh, before repeating with what Dan will later describe as grave vehemence, “the fuck!”

“Whassa matter?” Dan mumbles, rolling graciously away from him to paw at his nightstand for his phone.  He turns it on to see the time and slams it back down with a side, pushing his face into his pillow.  “Oh my God, Arin, it’s eight in the morning, go back to sleep.”

“Dude!” is all Arin can say, because dude, go back to sleep?  Go back to nakedly being Dan’s little spoon with Dan’s dick snug against his asshole like a friendly neighbor stopping by to say hello?  

“What?” Dan replies, voice still muffled as he looks up from his pillow.  Arin winces as Dan puts a hand around wrist, touch too tender and genuine.  “You’re freaking me out, dude, are you okay?”

“Dan,” Arin says very quietly, very serious, “we’re naked right now.”

Dan just continues to stare at him very concerned.  “Did you hit your head? Are you brain damaged?”

“No, I--what?”

“You’re acting super weird,” Dan says, pushing himself up on an elbow.  The hand that was encircling Arin’s wrist comes up so Dan can turn his face to look at him, thumb on his cheek, fingertips in his sideburns, the cool, sharp edge of a ring smooth against Arin’s jaw.  And that’s something else that doesn’t seem right, as comforting as it feels.

“When did you get married?” Arin asks, nudging Dan’s hand away with his face to get a closer look at the ring, which is definitely a wedding band.  Dan’s face contorts into something unreadable, and he shuts up as Arin holds his hand and traces over the thick silver of the ring.  It looks so similar to his own.  “Dan?”

“Uh, last year,” Dan replies, looking like Arin hit him, “to you, douchebag.”

And huh.  Arin stares at him dumbly, not sure what else to say, and Dan rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s been a real wild ride for me too, baby,” Dan says, and then he leans forward and kisses the corner of Arin’s mouth and drops his hand and rolls back over into his pillow, the naked stretch of his shoulders facing Arin.

“But I can’t be married to you,” Arin thinks out loud, getting more and more confused by the second.  Dan visibly tenses in front of him.  “I mean, not that I would mind, I would totally be gay married to you if I wasn’t already married.”

“Okay, Arin, what the shit,” Dan says, rolling back over.  “You’re really freaking me the fuck out right now.”  

“You?  You’re freaking me the fuck out!  Is this some kind of weird prank?  Look, man, you know I love you, you know if I went gay for anyone, it would be you, you would get me where I need to go.  But this is really weird.”

“Went gay?” Dan repeats.  “Arin, baby, you are like, the gayest gay I know.  Do I need to take you to a hospital?  Are you concussed?”

“No!” Arin says, feeling ridiculous trying to argue with his everything exposed, the sheets of Dan’s bed pooled around his thighs.  

“Okay,” Dan says slowly.  “Let’s try this: what year is it?”

“Twenty-sixteen,” Arin says, and Dan lets out a sigh.

“So far, so good. Uh--what’s my name?”

“Dan,” Arin replies, but it’s more exasperation than answer. “And my name’s Arin, and we are best friends, but in a heterosexual life partners kind of way, because I am married to a woman, dude.  Suzy would not appreciate this.”

“I hate to break this to you, but there is nothing heterosexual about this,” Dan says, pushing a few stray locks of his awful bedhead out of his eyes and brushing them back too tight with stress.  “And the state of California recognizes me as your only spouse.”

Arin’s had enough at this point.  Dan is acting like a goddamn pod person, and the worst part is that the prank shouldn’t be malicious, because Arin really does love Dan in the only way he can, and he’s just as much of a grounding force in Arin’s life as Suzy is, and if things were different, well, Arin’s spent a few nights lying awake thinking what if, what if, what if.  But it feels malicious, it feels like Dan’s trying to punish himself or the both of them, and he’s taking it uncomfortably far.  

He shakes his head and shoves himself off the bed.  “I need to get the fuck out of here.  Where are my clothes?”  

Dan’s quiet for a second.  “In your dresser,” he says eventually.  

Arin frowns at him, and then he takes another look around the room.  It’s definitely Dan’s room, but there are subtle differences--Arin’s dresser, the one he’s had since he moved out of his parent’s house, is tucked in the corner with Dan’s, there’s a rug he doesn’t recognize under the bed against the hardwood, and a handful of photos featuring the two of them from nights that Arin remembers, but doesn’t remember happening like that are artfully hung and propped up in mismatched bookshelves that Arin recognizes as belonging to both of them.  

“What,” he says, his voice weak with disbelief, “is going on.”

“Man, I’m just as confused as you,” Dan groans, burying his face in his hands. He’s never been a great actor, and changing the entire interior of his bedroom is taking a prank way, way, way too far, but Arin has no other explanation for it.  He keeps waiting for Dan to crack, tell him, you win, I’m sorry, you should have seen your face, fucker, but Dan looks legitimately as lost as he is, and it feels like the floor is dropping out from under Arin’s feet.  

“I need to get out of here,” Arin decides out loud, stumbling over to his dresser.  When he opens the drawer he recognizes some of his clothes, but not everything.  He blindly just pulls out the first of everything he can find, some graphic tee and boxers and well-worn pair of jeans, nearly tripping over himself out the room as he puts them on.  “I need to wake up.”

Suzy finds Arin curled around an Iced Kyoto at Demitasse a little over an hour later.  She rolls her eyes, putting her purse down at an empty chair near his table, and pulling out the one in front of him loudly to take a seat.  

She looks different.  Not in a bad way, just in an unfamiliar way; her body language isn’t necessarily wrong, it just doesn’t suggest the intimacy that he’s so used to sharing with her.  He doesn’t know what to make of it.  

“I haven’t had coffee yet,” she says, and she slips the drink out of his hand to take a sip.  

“Well, we are in a coffee shop,” Arin says, looking over her shoulder suggestively at the coffee bar where she could, you know, order her own drink.  

“Yeah, and I’m out of bed before noon on my day off, because Dan called me losing his shit, jerkass, so you’re buying me a drink.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, and hands her a wad of cash he found in the pocket of some well worn jeans that were in his size on the bedroom floor.

She doesn’t even buy coffee.  She buys a hot chocolate with lavender in it with extra whip on the lid that she licks off.  It’s cute when she does it, but he would sneer at anyone else.  

“How’d you find me?” he asks her.  He couldn’t find his phone before he left Dan’s, and he didn’t want to stick around long enough, too afraid some ugly truth would find him if he stayed there long enough.

“You always come here when you’re freaking out,” she says matter of factly, fastening the lid back onto the cup. “Anyway, Dan tells me you think we’re married.”

“Please,” he says, no, pleads, “don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she replies, meticulous eyebrow raised, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.  

“C’mon,” he tries, “babe.”

“You’re acting weird,” she says.  She’s smiling, but it’s the kind of smile that she has when Ross says something that shits over the line. “Are you and Dan fucking with me?”

“What?” It comes out like a laugh, a weak one, because he’s barely been awake for an hour but he feels exhausted already.  She’s still smiling at him like she’s waiting for a punchline, so he wipes at his eye and rests his forehead against his knuckles.  “No, I swear, you two are fucking with me.  Just--how much did he pay you?  Everyone?  I’m assuming like, Barry and Ross and Brian are in on this too.  Did you guys like, roofie me and move all our furniture to Barry and Dan’s while I was out?”

“Arin, I’m legit worried for you,” she says.  She puts down her drink, and that’s how he knows that she’s serious.  “Like?  Barry and Dan’s?  Why would my roommate live with your husband?  Are you on something?  Did you start drinking?”

“No,” he whines, and he realizes he sounds all of five years old when it comes out of his mouth.  “I just--God, I swear, maybe I am going crazy.  We met when I was fourteen, right?”

“Yeah,” she says.  

“I asked you out.”

“Right,” she says.  “We dated, and then you realized you were boy crazy like, eight months in, and we’ve been best friends ever since.  Well, okay, there was like, that one month I wouldn’t talk to you, because we were in high school, and it was drama, but you know.”

He doesn’t.  He doesn’t know.  He doesn’t know any of this and it’s terrifying and jarring and awful.  

“That’s not,” he tries, stops himself.  “Suze, that’s not how I remember it.  And it feels like a big fucking prank that you guys are hidden camera-ing me into, trying to make me believe--” he’s gesturing with his hands now, looking at the ceiling like the words he’s trying to find are written up there when Suzy sticks a phone in front of his face.  

“You sent this to me the night you got married,” she says.  On the small screen is a saved snapchat photo, taken somewhere dimly lit; Arin recognizes himself and Dan, open-mouthed smiles taking up half their pink, pixelated faces, looking off in different directions.  They’re cupping their own faces like they’re silently shrieking, and Arin can see why--they’re showing off two identical wedding bands.  Underneath in the grey window of text it says ELOPED MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!

“Shopped,” he says, even though the quality is so consistently bad, he’s not sure how.  Suzy rolls her eyes.  

“What do you want me to show you?” she says, pulling her phone back to her chest and flipping through it.  “Your facebook?  My facebook?  Almost five years of Youtube videos where you slowly, disgustingly describe your and Dan’s love affair blossoming in TMI detail?”

“Yes!” he says, getting a few looks from other patrons of the coffee shop for being too loud and maybe making too many erratic gestures with his hands.  He lowers his voice to a stage whisper and says again, “yes,” because everyone on their team is crazy but no one is possibly crazy enough to recreate every piece of content they’ve ever made.

“Fine,” she says, sliding the phone back over to him, “here.”

The screen is face up and paused toward the end of an old video of theirs: Banjo Kazooie. He bites the inside of his cheek and presses play.

“So I went on a date last night,” he hears himself say.  He doesn’t rewatch his own videos too much, and this one is old, but he’s sure he never had this conversation before.  And yet.

“Ooh,” replies Jon.  “You gonna tell us about him .”

“No, ” he hears himself reply.  “Okay yes.  But no.  He’s famous. ”

“Okay wait,” Jon says, “I know him and he’s not really famous.  Only you think he’s famous.”

“No, dude, he’s totally famous, and totally hot--spoiler alert, totally giving it away right now--but I want to respect his privacy.  Anyway, we went out to this karaoke place with his equally famous friend--"

“Equally not-so-famous,” Jon corrects, “and is it really a date if his friend is like, what, there to chaperone you?  Are you twelve ?”

Arin presses pause.

“I don’t remember this,” he says, pushing the phone back to Suzy.  “I mean, I do, but not like this.”

“Here, let me get another one,” she says.  And she does.  She pulls up multiple videos, pictures, things that would take days and days of editing and work they don’t have time for, and still wouldn’t necessarily be feasible to exist without Arin’s participation.  There are pictures of him and Dan kissing, laughing into each other’s mouths, fingers clumsily locked together; every video that Suzy shows him from Game Grumps he remembers making, but they’re all wrong--Suzy is Not So Grump and Dan only shows up regularly on Steam Train, and, and, and,

“I’m going crazy,” Arin says, staring at the title screen for Date Grumps featuring him and Dan playing Super Mario Bros. 2 for a one-off episode.  “You have to believe me, I remember this happening, but not in this order, or this way, it was--wasn’t like this.  What the fuck is happening to me?”

He puts her phone down more delicately than he realized he was capable of and scrubs at his face with both hands, groaning.  She takes her phone back and drags her chair around to his side of the table and wraps an arm around his shoulder.  He leans into her instinctively, taking comfort in the way she still traces random patterns into his skin with her nails even in this bizarro universe.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she says.  She’s telling the truth.

“You’re supposed to say I’m dreaming,” he jokes.  “You’re supposed to tell me I’m going to wake up any second now.  I’m gonna wake up and you’re going to be there to comfort me and I’ll say I had this weird dream where I was married to Dan, and you’ll laugh and say ‘well, aren’t you?’  Because you make fun of us all the time for acting like it.  You’re supposed to say ‘just kidding,’ because this is all a way too elaborate joke.”

“It’s not,” she says.  “It scares me that you think it is.  It scares Danny.”

“Babe,” he says again, and it means nothing because she’s not his Suzy, and he knows that.  He pulls away from her to look at her, and she looks back.  He’ll never get tired of looking at her. Not when she’s eighty.  Not when she’s a thouand.  “Suzy.  What the fuck do I do?”

“I don’t know,” she replies.  “Maybe get you to a doctor?”

“Fuck,” he says. “Yeah.”

Suzy drives him in his car to the hospital.  Danny meets them in the emergency room lobby.

“I’ll take it from here,” he says, pulling Suzy into a huge hug, but not taking his eyes off of Arin.

“I don’t know,” Suzy says into his shoulder.  

“I can hear you guys,” Arin says, pushing his hair behind his ears a little irritated.  “Even if I’m brain damaged, I’m not like, a vegetable.”

They break apart and their mouths slant sideways in a similar unreadable look that probably comes from trying to smile and fail.  Even if he doesn’t know this Dan and this Suzy, he still knows them at their core, knows how they forecast worries and fears even when they don’t realize they’re doing so.  

“So you know,” he continues awkwardly, “maybe like, don’t talk like I’m not here.  Whatever.  Suzy if you want to go, you can take my car.  We’ll get yours picked up later.”

“You sure?” she asks, and he nods, taking his keys out of his pocket and pressing them into her hand.  She pulls him in and kisses him on the cheek, and turns to Danny to squeeze his hand before leaving.  

That leaves Arin and Dan by themselves in the emergency room.  Danny curls into himself, arms folding over his chest and hands under his armpits like he’s protecting something, no doubt himself.

“So,” he says to the tiles of the emergency room floor, “this is serious.  You’re seriously--you don’t know--remember, fuck Arin, I don’t know what to say.  Are you okay?”

Arin’s thought about it a lot since Suzy slid her phone across the table the first time, let himself get lost in the reality of his now on the car ride from the coffee shop to the hospital.  He might be crazy, he thinks, or he might be stuck in a parallel timeline.  He’s starting to genuinely believe it might be the second option.

“I think I’m okay,” he says slowly.  “I think--okay, I didn’t want to say this when Suzy was here, because she thought I was going crazy, and I still think I’m going crazy, but maybe you’ll see where I’m coming from, or be able to suspend your belief: Dan, I think I’m from a parallel dimension.”

“What,” Dan says, “the fuck.”

“Yeah,” Arin says.  He doesn’t know what else he has to offer.

“Arin, I wouldn’t be surprised if they found a tumor the size of a beach ball in your brain, you asshole,” Dan says, not unkindly, but maybe with a sad, scared edge as he gestures at Arin’s skull. He looks like he wants to get a hand around Arin’s face but doesn’t know how, or maybe like he used to know how but forgot.  Arin can’t help but feel guilty.

“They might, but they won’t,” Arin protests, feeling weird about it.  Somewhere, deep down, he knows this isn’t him losing it, this isn’t him experiencing some irreparable damage;  it could be, very easily, but he’s convinced it isn’t.  He’s convinced last night he went to bed with Suzy’s feet snug between his thighs and now he’s in a different world with a different Suzy and a different Dan who maybe had his feet there instead.  

“Huh,” Dan says, his every inch trying not to hover around Arin. “You wanna tell me what they’re going to find?”

“I’ll be healthy,” Arin says, “and fine.  It’ll be infuriating.  You’re gonna leave with your head in your hands, man, and no explanation.  And neither will I.”

“So I’m the crazy one,” Dan says, exasperated.

“No,” Arin says, “you’re--Dan, Jesus.  Neither of us are crazy.  Let’s get out of here and go back to your place and fucking hunker down or some shit and figure out what’s going on.  I just guarantee we’re not going to figure out anything here.”

Dan still refuses to look at him. “Fine,” he says finally.  “Let’s go home.”

The drive home is weird.  It’s quiet, for one, and Dan reaches across the console almost immediately after starting the car to hold his hand without really thinking about it. Arin lets him.  It’s a strange comfort and feels like something that could be routine with them, something that isn’t forced.  But usually car rides with the two of them are louder, Arin in the passenger seat changing the song Dan’s got playing through his phone every forty-five seconds, Dan freestyling something dumb and awful over whatever lyrics are playing even when he doesn’t know the song at all.  Arin’s too afraid to let go of Dan or even look at him, see his mouth in an unfamiliar, frustrated white line.  The quiet lasts the entire ride.  

“I feel like I have to run around to your door and carry you inside,” Dan says when they get back to his place and park the car.

“Please don’t,” Arin says, “I’ll break you.”

Dan laughs and closes his eyes, chin tilted toward the roof of the car.  He gives Arin’s hand a squeeze before finally letting go.  “Yeah, I like, it just feels like you’re dying.”

“God, I hope I’m not,” Arin replies.  “That would make today suck a whole lot more.  Not that being married to you sucks.  It’s just, uh, unexpected.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” Dan says.  “That helps.”

“You’re welcome,” Arin says.  “So, where do we start?”

“I don’t know.  Where do you usually start when your husband wakes up with amnesia and a good decade of fake memories?”  Dan asks.  “Or, sorry, is a straight version of your husband from a parallel dimension.”

“Mostly straight,” Arin says.  “I always thought I would probably go gay for you.”

“If you’re trying to be comforting, Arin, you’re not doing a great job,” Dan says, and then he unbuckles his seatbelt and slides out of the car.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say, man!” Arin replies, following him.  Dan throws his hands up in an exasperated shrug and goes inside without saying anything else.  

Arin didn’t really take a look around earlier when he left to go get coffee and try to regain his wits, but when he walks back in he instantly sees how much is different.  Dan’s house has always looked like he got all his furniture from street corners under a cardboard sign labeled FREE in black sharpie, but now Arin is realizing the couch and table and entertainment center are all different and more cohesive.

“You got new furniture,” he says out loud.

“Like three years ago,” Dan replies.  He’s in the kitchen getting a can of seltzer water.  “When you moved in.  We spent a day playing house in IKEA until I thought they were going to kick us out for fornicating in one of the model bedrooms.  Man, I would kill for a beer right now.”

“No shit,” Arin says.  It sounds like something he and Dan would do if they were in fact together.  It sounds like something they might do anyway.  

“Yes shit,” Dan tells him.  “So clearly we don’t even live together in your universe.”

“Nope,” Arin says.  “I live with Suzy.  You still live here, but with Barry.  He’s your roommate.”

“I was worried you were going to say I was his boyfriend,” Dan says.  “Not that I don’t love him, but eugh.  Barry.”

“I would never let you do that to yourself.  I love you too much,” Arin says.  Dan laughs as he takes a sip of soda water, choking on it and getting the front of his shirt all wet.  “Smooth.”

“Yeah, well, I never thought I’d have to seduce you again.”  Dan wipes at his chest with a sigh.  “I’m a little rusty.  Tell me more.  What else is different where you’re from?”

“Uh, well, you’re Not So Grump, not Suzy.  I think your hair is a lot longer,” Arin says. He didn’t notice it with Dan’s bedhead this morning, but now he can see Dan’s hair is barely at his chin.

“You like it short,” Dan says.  

“Yeah,” Arin admits.  It’s like when Dan looks at him, he sees through him completely, and there’s something unsettling about it.  “I do.”

“What else?” Dan prompts him, taking another drink of water.  This time he doesn’t spill it all over himself.  “How’d we meet?”

“I sent you a really embarrassing e-mail after Ross showed me your Ninja Sex Party stuff,” Arin says.  He leans against the back of Dan’s couch, or Dan and his couch?  It’s a nice brown leather, not the well-worn scratchy plaid one that’s probably older than Arin that Arin remembers.  “You responded in kind.  You were coming to Los Angeles to stay with your uncle, so we met up and got sushi.”

“Huh,” Dan says.  “But I’m guessing in your universe you didn’t give me a blowjob in the sushi restaurant bathroom and keep me from getting to my uncle’s place for three days.”

“Wow, no I did not.  Did I do that here?” Arin asks.  “Man, gay me is kind of a slut.”

“Was a slut,” Dan corrects him, pushing himself out of the kitchen doorway and coming over to sit next to him.  “I tamed you.  You kind of tamed me too.  We tamed each other.”

“You still manage to make that sound very sexual,” Arin says.

“Good.” Dan smiles like he’s proud.  

“So that’s how we got together?  Bathroom blowie at a sushi place?”

“It was a great blowjob,” Dan says.  “Definitely in my Top Five.  One through four are also you, just other times.”

“Wow, I was really worried there for a second,” Arin says, rolling his eyes.  Dan elbows him in the side, and it feels good, it feels natural.  “I’ve never even given a blowjob.”

“I find that painfully hard to believe,” Dan tells him, so genuine it hurts.

“Well thank you?  I don’t know, I’ve just been with Suzy my whole life.  There hasn’t really been room to uh, experiment,” he says.  

“I don’t know what’s weirder,” Dan continues, “the fact that you, the beej king, have never given a blowjob, or that the longer we talk like this I’m actually starting to believe you’re a straight version of you from a parallel dimension.”

“Mostly straight,” Arin corrects again.  “Like I said, I’ve never really had the chance to test that out.”

“Happy marriage then?” Dan asks.  He doesn’t sound jealous, he just sounds like he wants to make sure Arin is okay, and something about that makes Arin’s chest feel tighter.  He grabs the can of soda water out of Dan’s hand and takes a big sip.

“Yeah, honestly,” he says.  “I don’t think I’d be human if I didn’t think of, you know, alternatives though.”

“Like what?” Dan asks, taking his water back.  He leans in, shoulder-to-shoulder with Arin, and it’s comforting.  “Like me?”

“Sure,” Arin says.  “Yeah.  Like you.”

“Well I gotta say, I’m proud that even in bizarro hetero you’s world, you would still probably go gay for me,” Dan says with a shit-eating grin.  

“Who knows,” Arin says.  “If I’m stuck here permanently it might actually happen.  Regain my title as ‘beej king.’”

“God, I’m just imagining like, some Rocky training montage of you sucking me off until you’ve done it, you’ve become the master,” Dan says, and Arin laughs, because it feels more like a riff than a come on.  

“Oh my God, with you singing Eye of the Tiger the entire time,” Arin replies through his laughter.

“ Yes ,” Dan says.  “How did you know that was my number one sexual fantasy?”

“Because I know you, dude,” Arin says, and for a second he forgets that this is a different place, and a different Dan, who has a different relationship with a different Arin.  “Even if you’re not my Dan, you know, I think I still know you.”

“God, you’re making this hard,” Dan says. “And weird.”

“What?” Arin asks.  He grabs Dan’s soda water again, but Dan grabs his wrist.

“You, you know, not being you-you.  I don’t know what to believe, I don’t know what’s real, so I don’t know what’s okay.  I don’t know if I can kiss you, or tell you how crazy you sound--and God, I just want to kiss all the crazy things coming out of your mouth away right now, you know?  And then, then there’s this part of me that’s like, well, he’s technically still your husband, so if he does blow you, is that cheating ?”

He lets Arin’s wrist go, but Arin still feels every inch of him like he’s branded himself there.  Neither of them are laughing anymore.  

“What if,” Arin says very suddenly, punctuating halfway through with a shaky sip of water, “what if this is God or something telling me I need to have a gay experience with you.  What if that’s why I’m here.  The multiverse needs me to have sex with you to maintain some kind of balance, but knows I can’t when I’m married to Suz.”

“Okay, Big Cat, you’re starting to sound kind of cuckoo bananas again,” Dan says firmly.  “I’m telling you the truth because I love you.”

“No, I think I’m onto something here,” Arin protests.

“Baby, I think you might be on something, not onto something,” Dan says, and that’s when Arin puts the soda water down and forcefully kisses him.  

The weird part is how easy it is.  He’s always thought Dan would be a good kisser, but he didn’t expect kissing Dan to come so easily.  He didn’t realize there was a difference between the two.  But it’s all more comfortable than he imagined in his distant, pushed away fantasies, the drag of Dan’s scruff against his own, the milky sweetness of Dan’s mouth tasting better than the best dessert Arin’s ever had.  

“Huh,” he says, pulling away.  “That was nice.”

“That was weird,” Dan says, and then they’re kissing again, but hungrier this time, open mouths sloppy against each other and Dan pulls him in and over the back of the couch with a practiced ease, long, skinny limbs wrapping around Arin’s waist and weighing him down.  “You don’t kiss like my husband, you kiss like a schoolboy.”

“Shut up,” Arin says, biting at his jaw.

“Make me,” Dan says with a laugh, kissing his temple.

“Fine,” Arin says and presses their mouths together again.  He feels like he’s been waiting for something his entire life and didn’t know it was this until it happened.  It feels good, and different, and wild.  Dan writhes underneath him, but everywhere he settles, he fits perfectly against Arin.  The sheer friction of him makes an honest to God moan slip out of Arin’s mouth.

“Easy tiger,” Dan says, mouth slipping away from his for second to speak. They’re both breathing heavily.  Arin’s got his hands everywhere, but they both move up to Dan’s face so he can brush some stray curls out of Dan’s eyes.  Dan’s got his fingers through the belt loops of Arin’s jeans in return, the only thing separating them and frankly keeping Arin from dry humping the fuck out of Dan.  

“Sorry,” Arin says, panting a little.  

“Don’t apologize, shit,” Dan replies, tilting his head to kiss the pad of Arin’s thumb on his face.  “I’m just worried like, the multiverse wants you to have a gay experience, not come in your pants like a teenager.”

“Dude,” Arin says.  “Wow.  Kind of hurts, bro.”

“Again, just being honest because I care about you and your well-being,” Dan tells him, rolling his hips up a little in a way that make Arin’s eyes roll back in his head.  “Don’t want you to be screwed by the multiverse because you didn’t have a complete gay experience.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Arin says.

“Yeah, a little bit,” Dan says.  “I just--look, this is weird.  Gotta use humor or else I’m going to go crazy actually believing you’re from another dimension and we have to bone to get you home.  The premise seems a little suspicious.”

“Are you complaining?” Arin asks, pushing himself up to rest back on his heels, still straddling Dan against the couch.

“Mm, no, come back,” Dan says, making grabby hands for him.  “Baby.  You just seem a little, uh, compliant, I guess?”

“Look, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it,” Arin says, which is true.  He’s seen Dan out of the corner of his eye a thousand and one times or more and thought, in a different life dot dot dot, let his thoughts trail off there and not entertained them further.  “It’s not like, a gay crisis or anything, it never had anything to do with me being gay or straight.  Just like, I knew if I had the opportunity with you, I probably would have taken it.  No shame in admitting it.”

“I’m flattered,” Dan says, “now come back down here.”

“I just poured my heart out to you, man.  Some real deep digging and you just want to make out more,” Arin replies, swatting at the hand Dan has curled in his t-shirt.

“I wanna do more than make out,” Dan says. “C’mere, let me show you.”

“God help me,” Arin says, and then he does.  He gets back down on his elbows and swoops in to kiss Dan again.

“No one can help you now,” Dan says into his mouth.  His hands leave Arin’s belt loops and travel up and under his shirt, fingers tracing patterns into the soft of his stomach, bitten down nails catching in the hair at his navel.  “You’re mine.”

“Yeah okay,” Arin concedes.  Dan knows exactly where to touch him, knows how to slowly build him up and tease him.  He almost feels guilty not knowing how to touch Dan in return.  He tells Dan.  He says, “it just seems unfair.”

“Nah,” Dan says, rocking against him again, feeling where he’s undeniably hard against Dan’s thigh.  “It’s fun.  Like the first time all over again.  Here, let me--”

He pushes against Arin’s chest, fingertips grazing Arin’s nipples as he coaxes him back until Arin is underneath him instead.

“Fuck,” Arin says as Dan drags a palm up the hard length of him, still sensitive through the denim and cotton.  

“Yeah?” Dan says, looking down at him, face asking a much more complicated question.

“Yeah,” Arin agrees, because he knows what Dan is asking, and it’s something he hasn’t let himself think about for years and years.  Dan smiles to himself like he’s won a prize and leans in to kiss Arin one more time while thumbing open the button of his jeans.  

“Promise me one thing,” Dan says, kissing away from his mouth, lips traveling down the side of Arin’s neck, the collar of his t-shirt, the meat of his chest.  “You’ll tell me when you’re getting close.”

Arin already feels close, but he doesn’t dare say so out loud.  He just nods, breathing shakily as Dan continues to work his way down.  Dan manages to get Arin’s jeans around his thighs in three rough tugs, Arin shimmying his hips a little to help.  When Dan tugs down his briefs, his dick springs out hard and eager.

“Hey there,” Dan greets his dick, which is so fucking surreal and wonderful, but then Dan is taking the head into his mouth, and it’s something altogether different.  Arin doesn’t have words for the way Dan feels or looks, eyes closed, nursing the tip of him.  

“Gnngh,” he tries, and fails.  Dan hums around his length pleased, and continues to suckle where Arin’s most sensitive until Arin feels like he’s unraveling from his balls and up.  He tries to ground himself by digging his fingers into Dan’s hair, lacing between his curls, but ends up just tugging at Dan rough and thrusting deep into his mouth.  “Fuck, Danny.”

Dan responds by lapping up his dick like a tide coming in, his tongue licking up the underside of him in hot, wet waves.  He looks so serious, eyes pinched shut, hand stroking Arin from the base up to greet his mouth, thick with spit.  Arin’s toes are curling and he realizes he’s still wearing his shoes, distantly.  

Dan’s mouth pops off his dick with a slick noise and he kisses the soft patch of skin where Arin’s dick and balls meet.  “You always taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Jesus,” Arin says.  “That’s it, Dan, too much, you’re gonna make me--”

“Not yet,” Dan says, taking his hand off Arin’s junk and kissing lower, sucking a bruise into the inside of Arin’s thigh above the band of his jeans.  “Need you to come in me.”

“What,” Arin says, brain muddled with need.

“You heard me,” Dan says.  He crawls up Arin’s chest to kiss the corner of his mouth the same way he did when Arin woke up this morning.  “Need you to come in me.  Gotta have the full experience, right, babe?”

“Fuck.”  Arin can barely keep himself from coming messily all over the both of them right now.  “Sure.  Why not.”

“That’s the spirit,” Dan says.  Arin takes the brief pause, Dan pushing himself up to tower over him, to kick his shoes off at least.  

“You want me to fuck you here?” He’s proud he can even get the words out, it seems so unreal, too good.  

“I’m a little old-fashioned,” Dan replies, leaning back long enough to take his own shirt off and throw it to the floor. “I was thinking maybe we could move this to the bedroom, but you know, if we don’t make it that far it’s not like I’m going to complain.”

“Mm, that’s like fifty feet away,” Arin complains. “Which is fifty feet too far.”  

“I believe in you, Big Cat,” Dan says, sounding so fucking tender it guts him completely.  

“Fine,” he says, pushing himself up to press a kiss of his own to Dan’s collarbone, take an experimental bite at his nipple.  “Challenge accepted.”

“That’s my boy,” Dan says, clearly pleased, breath hitching a bit when Arin lets his tongue flick over the nipple caught between his teeth.  “If you keep doing that though, huh.”

“Sorry,” Arin mumbles, even though he’s not sorry in the slightest.  He’s blindly working at Dan’s zip now, fumbling to get his jeans down.  Dan helps him, but stops his hands when Arin tries to grab his junk.  

“What happened to moving this to the bedroom?” Dan doesn’t whine, but it’s close.  He pushes himself away from Arin and off the couch.  “Catch me if you can, motherfucker.”

It’s harder done than said, what with both of them sporting boners and Arin still with the elastic of his briefs and yoke of his jeans taut around his thighs.  He pulls his underwear up and jeans down and follows after Dan, catching him in the mouth of the hallway and pinning him against a wall.  

“Always wondered what this would be like,” he admits, hands on Dan’s bony waist, licking a stripe up the long curve of Dan’s neck.  “You, me, this.”

“As good as you imagined?” Dan asks hopefully.  He strokes back Arin’s bangs, nails rough against his scalp.

“Better,” Arin says, not willing to say he was never brave enough to imagine this out of fear he would want it too much.  Dan finally lets him cop a feel, hand cupping his balls and sliding up to experimentally feel him out.  “God, you’re big.”

“Fun story: the first time you blew me, you looked up at me in that bathroom and said, ‘my, what a big dick you have.’  I called you red riding hood for like, a year after,” Dan says, grin so big it looks like his face is about to split in half.  

“I didn’t,” Arin protests, unknowing, embarrassed for his other self.

“You totally did, and it was amazing,” Dan says.  Arin kisses him again because he can’t not, and starts dragging him down the hallway by his hips.  They stumble back into the bedroom and Dan pushes him off to throw himself on the bed.  “How do you want me?”

“Uh,” Arin says.  He has no idea.  The idea of fucking Dan face-to-face kind of scares him on an intimate level though, the reality of it, how undeniable it would be.  

“How about,” Dan says, rolling onto his stomach, “you get the lube out of the night stand while I stick my sweet, sweet ass in the air, and you take care of me however you see fit.”

It’s an easy out, and Arin takes it.  He smacks Dan’s ass and then gives the red handprint a kiss, before shifting over to the nightstand.  In his place with Suzy, they always keep the sex stuff in the top drawer, so that’s where he looks first.  

“Bingo,” he says, opening the drawer and finding the lube on the first try.  He uncaps it and greases up his dick with it, before taking a little more to slide up Dan’s taint to his hole, up in the air and inviting.  “You like it when I fuck you?”

“Like it?” Dan’s voice is muffled where his face is half pressed into the bedspread underneath him.  “Fucking love it, bro, love your dick, it’s like a complete breakfast, can’t start my day without it.”

“God,” Arin says, eyes rolling to the ceiling to ground himself as he slides his dick up and down the crease of Dan’s ass.  He plans on experimentally pushing in slow and shallow, but Dan is looser than he expects and he ends up balls deep in a handful of seconds.  “Fuck.  You’re a fucking slut, Dan.”

“I’m your fucking slut,” Dan corrects him.  “Now fuck me already.”

“I’m trying!” Arin says, and Dan laughs underneath him.

“Try harder, shithead,” and Arin pulls out to near the tip before snapping his hips back in, making Dan gasp and curl his fingers into the sheets.  “There we go, goddamn, fuck me, Arin, fuck me just like that.”  

Dan repeats the movement, slowly withdrawing and then fucking into him hard; he rolls out of Dan like molasses unfolding and then thrusts gut-punchingly hard and Dan lets out an animalistic noise with each movement.

“You fucking monster,” Dan says.  “Teasing me like this, you goddamn piece of shit, I can’t believe.”

“You love it,” Arin says, because he can tell.  Every inch of Dan is moving to get more of Arin inside him, to get more of Arin against him, and he’s still smiling up to his ears with a dick in his ass.  

“Yeah baby,” Dan says, so genuine and fond, “you know I do.”

It doesn’t take much more than that.  Arin speeds his thrusts up until he’s smashing his hips against Dan’s ass erratically, uncontrollably, desperately wanting to get off until he does.  Dan comes seconds after him, laughing.

“God,” Arin says, forehead pressed into the sweaty stretch of skin between Dan’s shoulderblades.  His dick is still pulsing out come as Dan’s muscles tighten around him, coming into the sheets.  “I needed that a lot more than I thought I did.”

“Felt good,” Dan agrees, sex dumb and unwound beneath him.  “So good.”

Arin pulls out of him and they both gasp at the point of disconnect, and Arin rolls next to him on the bed.  “That was stupid, how good that was.”  

“Another fuck well done,” Dan tells him, closing his eyes and snuggling in, nosing at his neck.  

“Good job us,” Arin says.  They lazily high five, naked legs sticky and tangling together.  

“That had like, the energy of first time sex and just got married sex all rolled into one,” Dan says.  “Jesus.”  

“Yeah,” Arin says.  “Apparently we got eloped?”

He’s been thinking about it since he saw the picture on Suzy’s phone: ELOPED MOTHERFUCKERS .  After proposing to Suzy it took two stressful years of planning their ceremony, figuring out every piece of the event down to the second.  He wouldn’t trade it for anything, as it was the best day of his life, and all the stress was worth it to have the most fun, flaw free wedding in the world.  But he still wonders about how it could have been different, how here it apparently was.

“We did get eloped,” Dan confirms, wriggling in closer and rolling around so Arin’s spooning him.  “We had a weekend off.  You looked at me, said ‘we should just fucking do it.’  I knew exactly what you meant.  We drove up to Vegas with Ross as our witness and did the whole Elvis Presley thing in a fifty dollar chapel.  You convinced me to spend a few extra hundred to get like, commemorative plates that we sent to our friends and family, and then we went on a bunch of rides on the stratosphere to try and get Ross to puke.”

“Did he?” Arin asks a little too excitedly.

“No,” Danny says, “you almost did though, Jesus.  The internet went crazy.  But we were too busy holding hands in a lazy river at the New York, New York to really give a fuck.  I think we stayed for a week.”

“That sounds--” Arin yawns, closes his eyes, and is this it?  “That sounds amazing.  Incredible.”

“It was,” Danny says.  “You were.  Are.”

“Gee bud,” Arin says, and he can’t help the way he’s smiling, the way he feels so complete knowing these things, this history that doesn’t necessarily belong to him, but he’s always wondered and assumed and now he knows.  “Thanks.  You’re not half bad yourself.”

“I know,” Dan says, and he rolls over to kiss Arin, slow and sweet, mouths dragging together, tongues lapping into each other like it’s the last time.  It probably is, Arin reflects sleepily.  

“Tell me another story,” he says, wanting to wear Dan’s voice like a blanket, a comfort over his entire body.  “About us.”

“Okay,” Dan says.  Arin falls asleep to the sound of his voice, the sound of his story about the two of them almost getting caught by hotel service on a trip up to Portland.  Dan has a way with words, he puts life in them, and for the last few seconds before Arin is dragged into sleep, he feels like he could have been there.  

“I’ll never know and neither will you of the life you don’t choose. We’ll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn’t carry us. There’s nothing to do but salute it from the shore.”

(post script)

Arin shoots up awake with a gasp.  His chest is heaving and his skin is covered in rivulets of cold sweat and he anxiously pats around the bed next to him in the dark, looking for the familiar form of--

“Dan,” he says, shaking Dan’s bony shoulder when he finds it, “ Dan .”

“Mzzzzuh?” Dan says, eyes still closed, burrowing his face into the meat of Arin’s hip.  “Shit, Arin, you can’t keep doing this, I swear to God, I need sleep.”

“Jesus Tits, Dan, Christ.  I’m sorry, I had the worst, uh, this weird dream that was so fucking vivid.”

Dan is quiet for a second, and Arin is pretty sure he’s already gone back to sleep, but then he pushes himself up and kisses Arin’s shoulder.  “Was it about you switching bodies with a mostly straight version of yourself?”

“Oh my God,” Arin says. “Yes.”

“Babe, that totally happened,” Dan says, scrubbing at his face.  “He was here.  It was super weird.  I may have given him a blowjob and let him fuck me for science.”

“Dan,” Arin says again, except this time it sounds like he might cry.

“You okay?”

“Dan, I ate puss.  In this parallel dimension, I was married to Suzy.  And I, I, I didn’t know what to do, I thought I was stuck there.  I got panicked, Danny, and I ate her out.”

Dan is quiet for another second, and the second feels like five million, it feels absolutely damning, but then Dan starts laughing uncontrollably.  He presses his brow against Arin’s collarbone where he fits perfectly and he shakes with laughter.  Arin can feel his tears against his chest.  

“Fuck,” Dan finally wheezes out, “I can’t believe you went muff diving.  That’s incredible.  How was it?”

“Wet,” Arin answers honestly.  “It was so wet and so terrifying, Dan, I was so fucking lost.  It was like someone gave me a map to a cave but all the directions were in Chinese and backwards, and it was so scary.”

“Ssh, baby, it’s okay,” Dan says, a little giggle still tickling the back of his throat when he speaks.  “You’re back home. Suzy’s vagina can’t hurt you anymore.  I’ll protect you.”

“You always do,” Arin says.

[russellthornton]

How to Tell a Girl You’re Not Interested in Her like a Gentleman

Wondering how to tell a girl you’re not interested in her? You don’t have to ghost her or be a complete asshole, just use these suggestions instead.

Listen, guys, it’s time to grow up. I’m saying this as a retired ghoster, it’s really not cool. You need to learn how to tell a girl you’re not interested in her. Don’t just ignore her.

I’ll be honest, I ghosted guys many times. It’s not like I really wanted to do it, but I was a pussy, plain and simple. I didn’t have the guts to tell them I wasn’t interested. Instead, I just ignored them. Is it nice? No. Does it show that I’m mature? Absolutely not.

Rather than just saying, hey, I didn’t really feel a connection or I’m not interested, I would drag these guys on for weeks as I developed the courage to reject them. Of course, that day never came so I ghosted instead. [Read: Prepare yourself for these consequences of ghosting]

How to tell a girl you’re not interested in her

Dating sucks. Okay, I actually love dating. But when you experience ghosting, it dampens your whole parade. You may have had an amazing date and spent a couple days texting, but now, someone new came along or you’re simply not that into her. Listen, that’s okay. These things happen. That’s why it’s called dating and not marriage.

Dating is all about meeting people and seeing who would be the best match for you when it comes to finding a partner. But the way you end a relationship is what truly shows the type of person you are. You know ghosting isn’t the way to do it, so learn how to tell a girl you’re not interested in her.

#1 You don’t have to like her. Here’s the thing, the whole reason why we ghost people is that we feel bad about hurting their feelings. We feel bad for them that we don’t like them. But you know that you have the right to not be interested in her and vice versa.

In essence, by ghosting her and emotionally dragging her on, you’re not giving her the closure that both of you deserve. Whether you’ve only gone on a couple of dates or hooked up a couple of times, you have the right to not be interested in her anymore. [Read: What is ghosting and how it affects you]

#2 Know that it’s over. Whatever it was that you had with her, you concluded that you no longer want that. Usually, we ghost people and those that we were kinda into, we text them again months later.

Don’t be that guy. Instead, know that you don’t want anything with her. By being firm in your beliefs, you can step up and tell her what you feel.

#3 Text her. Listen, you don’t need to go for a coffee in order to tell her you’re not interested in her. Now, if you were dating her for months, that might be a different story. But let’s be real, you don’t have to see her in person. You have an excellent alternative to ghosting, just send her a text instead. You don’t need to actually confront her, it’s just a quick message. Poof, it’s done. [Read: The worst things to say during a breakup]

#4 Make a clean break. Don’t have this prolonged dramatic saga of telling her you’re not interested. Listen, you don’t like her. That’s really all it is. And for the sake of everyone involved, it’s best if you do it as cleanly and quickly as possible. Treat it like ripping off a Bandaid. Sure, her ego will be hurt *maybe even her feelings* but dragging her along will only make this entire situation worse.

#5 Give a reason. Don’t give her an excuse as to why you’re not interested in her, give her a reason. Don’t tell her that your dog died or that it’s you and not them. Just give them a straight reason.

If you’re not interested in her, just tell her that you don’t feel the chemistry or connection that you need. You don’t need to be harsh, but be honest. No one can call you an asshole for being honest. Okay, she’ll still call you an asshole because her ego is shot, but you’re not an actual asshole.

#6 If she doesn’t understand, be clear. She may not understand what you mean when you say you don’t like her in that way. Maybe you weren’t straightforward enough or they may be too emotional. Listen, just be clear.

You don’t need to give her an hour explanation of what the difference between like and like is. Make it clear that you don’t feel the connection, and the best way to say this is by literally saying those words. [Read: How to not look like a dick when you break it off with a girl]

#7 Allow her to speak. You said what you needed to say, and let’s be honest, your opinion isn’t going to be changing any time soon. But that doesn’t mean she’s not allowed her opportunity to say what she needs to say.

Maybe she has nothing to say, but that’s not the point. Allow her the ability to express her feelings rather than just cutting her off straight away. Yes, you should be clean and quick with what you need to say, but she can respond and she probably will.

#8 Give her space. After that, give her space. She may be completely cool with it, and you’ll be able to carry on the conversation for a couple minutes until it dies off. Or, she may be really upset. Whichever happens, allow her the space she needs. Don’t try to suffocate her with apologies or hang around because you feel bad.

#9 Don’t text her. After you end the conversation, do not text her. Come on, just let her go. You already rejected her nicely. Don’t give her any idea the smallest hope of you liking her. You said what you needed to say, and now you need to allow her to move on. [Read: How to let a girl down easy without all the mess]

#10 Do you want friendship? Now, if you were friends and she told you how she felt, you’re obviously going to talk to her about it. But now the question remains, do you want to keep the friendship? This isn’t necessarily for you but rather for her.

She’s your friend, but she has feelings for you and that makes this messy. So, ask her what she’d like to do and then respect her wishes.

[Read: Legit reasons you’re not ready for a a relationship yet]

Come on, if you’re still ghosting then it’s clear you’re not mature enough for a relationship. It’s time to act your age and learn how tell a girl you’re not interested in her.

The post How to Tell a Girl You’re Not Interested in Her like a Gentleman is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.