#one more year at least and I can go to all the other gay clubs/bars in boston

[octuscle]

I have always wanted to try some gay bars around my area, yet I have never managed to actually go to one, I don't think I will fit in at all. Yesterday I received a flyer from a local leather bar popular with the older guys about some kind of party tonight. I'm thinking about going but can't manage the courage, is there any way you could help ?

From my own experience, the biggest problem when visiting a leather and fetish club for the first time is not your outfit. You can even come in a pink tooth fairy costume if your attitude is right. Are you unhappy with your body? No problem, if you're still bursting with self-confidence. Once you've got to the point where you're lying in a sling or fucking someone who's lying in a sling, it doesn't really matter what you look like.

Don't worry, I'll make sure you make a grand entrance. It is now 5pm. You're currently 23 years old and haven't really had much experience with rough sex. We'll change that. I'll make you five years older within the next five hours. Five years in which you have had fun every weekend in the relevant bars. Online dating? Cybersex? For you, that's for sissies. You want to feel and smell your partner's sweat during sex. And for you, shooting your semen into a tissue is a waste. It should end up in someone else's face or ass. And if you get fucked yourself, at least on your chest or in your face.

Do you notice how you change? How your self-confidence grows. How you look at the people around you in the underground. And how you yourself attract more and more glances. You are an alpha stallion. Let me adjust a few things. Three times a week to the gym. You have a career at work. You're an alpha. That gives you the money to invest in leather. These things aren't cheap. But you love the smell. Army? Rubber? Skinhead? All hot fetishes. But you need the feeling of black leather on your skin.

When you get off the underground, you grab the crotch of the hot guy opposite you with your leather gloves as a farewell. And then you head for the toilet of the underground station with your heavy boots. Totally filthy place. But with glory holes. And sure enough, there's someone waiting on the stall next to you. You haven't had sex for two days. And you gratefully get a blowjob before dinner.

In the burger restaurant you stand right at the entrance. A couple of guys think you're the bouncer. With your black bomber jacket and short-cropped hair, that's not far-fetched. What if your colleagues saw you now? No one would recognise you without your tailor-made suits. At least not at first glance.

After the burger, you go out for a beer or two. You're already wearing the full outfit. Leather jeans. Leather shirt. People gawk and drool. But you only have eyes for guys in leather. Too bad, there are none in the gay bar today. More like young party people. So it's better to move straight on to the leather bar.

On the street, at the stairs down to the bar in the basement, there are a few really hot guys smoking cigarettes. Beginners. You put a fat Dominco Presidente in your mouth. And exchange glances with the bearded leather master standing on the railing of the basement stairs. He stubs out his cigarette, takes the cigar from your mouth and grabs your chin with his other leather-gloved hand. Wouldn't you like to put something else big in your mouth?

After a few minutes, the two of you are the attraction in the dark room. This is a promising start to a horny weekend. Make the most of it!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age progression #leather tf #male transformation #muscle transformation

[davidkarofskyindie]

dcrkcrwns (Jacob/Artemis)

@dcrkcrwns continued from (x)

artemis was quite nervous to go out to a big gay party like this. this was actually his first pride since he had come out this year. and when he came out, his friends were so happy for him. but he didn’t have any queer friends so it was nice that his older sibling introduced him to one of his closest gay friend. when that friend invited artemis to go to a pool party, he wasn’t expecting all of this. the amount of shirtless men, some even–– nude. the boy was a little uncomfortable, but he promised himself he’d make at least one friend, no matter the age. he went to get a drink by the little tiki bar outside and he turned to the person that started speaking to him. a soft smile spread across his face. “ this is actually my first time, ” he said. “ didn’t realize a lot of people attend these kind of things. i swear it just feels like the club but during the day, ” he stated. “ no, of course, the piña coladas are actually really good, ” he laughed awkwardly.

jacob couldn't help but take a quick second just to check out the young man in front of him, his eyes trailing up and down that flawless body in one quick motion when he looked away. it was a little obvious that this young man was a bit nervous so he was happy to play the ambassador role and try to make him feel at home, especially because he knew a guy that hot should be in the middle of the party being worshipped as a god. "yeah these parties can be pretty popular, and not just because of the piña coladas. honestly i like these more than the club cos a club tends to feel kind of cramped, the more room to move the more places to have fun in" he said happily as he gestured for the guy tending bar and getting a drink for them both. he casually offered his hand to the other man to shake "by the way, i'm jacob... so, for a first timer, how many guys have offered their faces up as your chair for the night? I've heard like 4 guys use that line already so i'm sure you have to have been offered" he spoke with a little chuckle, trying to be as easy going as possible.

#dcrkcrwns #queueded

[ace-sailor-uranus]

i want a st fic where steve starts doing porn and then maybe eventually blue mags bc he's strapped for cash and, like, he knows he's hot, he's regularly told he's hot, he absolutely has that sweet-boy-next-door vibe and also hunky-jock can-pick-you-up-and-fuck-you-against-the-wall kinda thing. And, like, why not. He's good at it (he's regularly told that's all he's been good for) and it pays...well, decently enough, at least, even if it's not excellent. Quickly becomes fairly popular, because he's kind of just an every-man that every man wants to be, y'know?

Current mental debate is if I want this to be modern or time-accurate, bc both if them have their pros and cons. Modern!AU then we get this fancy thing called the internet where he could maybe start as an 'amature' solo channel, y'know? but also we could do time accurate and have it be where after vecna is destroyed eddie (and wayne) get whisked away by the government bc hawkins is still out for blood or whatever, and steve had to FIGHT to get him his phone number. anyway, steve and robin go to Indianapolis, so robin can go to school and steve finds a job at a (gay) bar that he doesn't realize at first is a gay bar, and one night he thinks he's getting hit on but actually he's getting a job offer (for porn)

actually i take my first sentence back, i want him to do blue mags first (it's an easier jump in. he's used to pictures, being still and looking pretty and empty-headed is one of the few things his mother ever praised him for) and at first he does, like, the 'normal' stuff but then he branches out into the easy kinkier stuff like lace and leather and collars and chains

his most famous photoshoot (the one that eddie finds, bc listen, he's still basically a teenager, and he knows what he likes, and he's talked to steve on the phone at least once a week for a year, traded shitty polaroids that traveled halfway across the country ((they got settled into Portland, OR maybe? idk yet) anyway most famous photo shirt is generally categorized as 'The Club' pics, and he's wearing smeared red lipstick and running mascara and glitter in the chest hair over his tits. Tight little red lace panty and bra set that match the color of his lipstick, and a cropped leather jacket. (eddie basically implodes, bc holy shit did janky polaroids not prepare him for THAT) the photos look almost like paparazzi shots, taken with a bright flash to highlight the glitter and the sweat. in one of them he's got his head thrown back, taking a shot (it's just apple juice. steve doesn't drink. hasn't done anything more intense than the occasional joint since the russians)

robin convinces him to move to san francisco after the kids graduate and scatter (she doesn't have to convince that hard, tbh) (besides, he hasn't seen the ocean since he was really little, and his grandparents were still alive) (this is where he starts doing porn?)

(eddie still hasn't told steve that he knows) ((it's not that steve's ashamed or anything, but, well, he knows the stereotypes and he knows exactly what kind of risque stuff he does))

idk how else it would go, other than eddie and steve get together and eddie...becomes an artist? i think that'd be fun. (don't get him wrong, music will always be his first true love, but once upon a time he played a one-man-band performance that kinda helped save the world, and he still gets shaky hands if he thinks about it) or maybe also steve's primary photographer?

anyway. steve does porn, there's feels about it.

#rayn's flat #stranger things fic #steddie #steve harrington hc #shit. now i have to write this.

[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen!

Im 20y and a lesbian that loves lesbian history and im just wondering about that Era that you lived as a lesbian: the 80's and e the 70's.

There was so many lesbian magazines, zines, activism....i spend hours of my days reading online the Lavender Menace magazine and Sinister Wisdom, its just so amazing to me that lesbians created a fundation of their our culture, language and lifestyle at the time. So my question is, how was it back then compared to today since we dont have the same kind of community, we have barely 5 lesbian bars in the whole US and our activism is fragmented almost non existent? Especially since lesbophobia or oppresion on homossexuals did not end and we still face it.

Thanks, and I love your blog.

I was lucky enough to come out in a place, Iowa City, where lesbians were well organized and active. Iowa City was the home of a Women's Press printing group that formed under the idea that "We coudn't get it printed so we learned how to print". That press was disbanded in 1985 but it's legacy lived on. My lesbian community was broad and diverse and welcoming. They had a history of working together even if they weren't old enough or active in the political side of things in the early 80's. The foundation of lesbians (women) working together was built and we stood on that solid ground. 

I was never a big reader of lesbian history. I preferred to experience it in life, to hear the stories from the other lesbians in my community or at festival or wherever I could corner some woman to tell her about her life. But sometimes now I read over the older pamphlets and news letters and every time it renews my passion to pass on lesbian culuture and positivity to others. I see the importance of keeping papers and not relying on computer documents and only oral, unrecorded stories. 

What used to be the University of Iowa Lesbian archives is now housed under the LGBTQIA archives but you can still seach “lesbian” and they curators/volunteers (at least one of which is a butch lesbians ;) )are happy to email you images to read. You can look for entire collections and almost all are digitized or in the process. Through that archive you aill find new places to search. They have   tiktok as well. 

https://lgbtqiowa.org/history-by-letter/history-by-letter-1-iowa-city-womens-press/

Most universities have some sort of lesbian archive in their special collections. They are a great place to start for local lesbian history. And they are more than happy to share. Some even offer free lectures if you want to organize the space (public library) and do some advertising. 

www.LConline.org is Lesbian Connection. You can subscribe for about 35.00 or free to lesbians is you can’t afford to pay. They often sell back issues. 

Now that you have some new sources. Heres how it was for me when I came out in 1993, just out of college to years and living in Iowa City which was often called the Gayest town in Iowa. A sort of gay and lesbian bubble in a state not known for diversity. 

We have a gay club, in every major city. Des Moines with several, Iowa City, Cedar Rapids, the Qaud Cities and Waterloo/Cedar Falls. We have an unofficial lesbian club ( a bar owned by lesbians, close enough) in Iowa City. We were all in our early to late 20′s and so going out and dancing/drinking was sort of a go to for us. We had lesbian pool, dart. softball, volleyball (my favorite) and kickball leagues. Only lesbians. There were gay men leagues as well and we sometimes played each other for fun. There were also mixed groups for those who wanted to play on multiple nights or wanted that space. We had a BLAST!  After (and often during games) we shared beer and laughter, meals and snacks. 

The bars that hosted us were mostly straight and we brought income and activitiy so we had no push back and were often invited to new ones. The volleyball and softball fields gave us equpment to use and sometimes a business, like a bar or restaurant would give us t shirts. If we wore those shirts around we sometimes got discounts. What a grand time we had! 

As we got older going out or playing sports and practicing 2 or 3 nights a week became more difficult. Jobs, kids, home ownership and priorities shifted. Instead my friend group had monthly potlucks or meeting at a restaurant. The lesbian bar burned down and was not rebuilt so we took to camp fires at each others homes or meals at diners on Saturday morning. 

Women’s Festivals became an important part of my life and that of my lesbian friends. I started going in 1994 when introduced by my first girlfriend and friend group. In the later years, when we were not as active locally due to life being busy, we would spend time planning and prepping for that 7 to 10 day camping in a state 7 hours away. We would gather with a purpose and eat and drink and talk about memories and what fun we will have on vacation.  Those 7 days camping at a women’s festival gave us the down time to hang out and renew our friendships. Time to talk and laugh and dance and catch up without the world in the way. Without that women’s festival being the steady, predictable place for us to meet I am not sure our friend group would still be strong like it is. 

Now we meet to talk about the “old days” over food or campfires. We zoomed over covid realizing how much we missed each other and how life had gotten in the way. Since then we try harder to make time. We are getting back to festivals and bring new, young lesbians on board to experience what was life changing to us. To ME.  We work together (my boss and her wife and my first ex are all friends from my coming out days). We MAKE time to eat out or camp or just sit in lawn chairs in back yards. 

This is my lesbian experience. And I wish all lesbians could land in the lap of such a strong group of women like I did. NOT that there was not drama LOL. Of course there were exes and breakups and disagreements but when someone needed time she knew she could take it and we would keep inviting. No one was shamed for “never coming” because we all knew not joining in now did not mean she would not want to come back in the future. 

When the world gets too much and i look in my DM’s or on line and see younger or newly out older lesbians suffering from distress caused by isolation or the current political envirnonment or lack of lesbian role models I go to my friends and talk and listen and get hugs. They ultimately give me hope and I take that out into the world. 

We are finding each other and the key is to translate on line community to in person community. Three lesbians getting coffee and forming a friendship is better than 20 lesbians meeting on line although both are better than no lesbians connecting. The adivice I always give and stand firm on is get to a womens or lesbian festvial. You will not regret it. It will change your life and give you life long friendships. 

#lesbian #80's and 90's #lesbian community

[mariacallous]

This week, President Biden signed the Respect for Marriage Act into law—an important step toward advancing protections for same-sex marriages. But the legislation comes near the end of a year in which hundreds of anti-L.G.B.T.Q. bills were proposed across the country, queer literature was the target of bans in schools, protests and violence against drag shows rose, a queer night club in Colorado Springs was attacked, and at least thirty-four trans people were killed. As Bryan Washington writes in a new essay, in this “ghoulish year for queer folks,” spaces for gathering have become more essential than ever, serving as “focal points of connection and as portals for sharing information.” Reflecting on his time at gay bars everywhere from Houston to Bangkok throughout 2022, Washington offers snapshots of the connection, support, sadness, joy, and visibility he found in them. “And perhaps this is one function of queer spaces,” Washington writes. “To give what is deemed unworthy—by white supremacy, by stigma, by capitalism—its brightness, even if only for a few hours.” The essay is a wonderful reminder of the gift of having companions to help you process a year’s worth of heartbreaking lows and euphoric highs.

In January, near the queer bars lining Houston’s Montrose Boulevard, some white guy stood with a bullhorn. Wearing a button-down shirt under a tidy jacket, he screamed at foot traffic for hours. Sodomites wrought the end of civilization! We were all going to hell! Vaping on a patio across the street, I asked a buddy whether this was strange, and he confirmed that it was, before we flopped into Crocker to the tune of Toni Braxton.

A week later, around the same spot, a gaggle of folks stood with more microphones. They wore matching T-shirts, blasting fire-and-damnation into the humidity. From time to time, they’d flag down passersby to remind us of our pending eternity in flames. A handful of folks engaged with the homophobes while walking along the busted concrete, but few offered more than a brief, tired Girl.

At Ripcord, a bartender—a bearish ginger draped in leather—told me that the agitators had been more visible lately.

They’re feeling themselves, he said. But it’s fucking gross out there? They should drink some water instead.

Some porn played on the screen behind us. Patti LaBelle sang from the speakers. This was a perfect space, and I ordered more drinks to take to my friends on the patio.

All in all, 2022 has been a ghoulish year for queer folks in the United States. Lawmakers have proposed more than two hundred and fifty anti-L.G.B.T.Q. bills, more than a hundred and eighty of them directed at trans folks. Nearly half of book bannings this year have focussed on queer content. There have been more than a hundred and twenty threats, protests, and attacks against drag shows. At least thirty-four trans folks have been killed, and states across the country have revelled in targeting trans kids.

But queer spaces have been more essential than ever. They’ve served as focal points of connection and as portals for sharing information. Yet another year into the pandemic, they’ve been places to just enjoy others for a fucking minute. Or maybe play bingo. Or catch a drag show, or catch up with friends, or spin the wheel on a date. They’ve offered a way to spend time with people whom you can wear a little less armor around, who might actually be invested in your feeling O.K.

In February, I flew to Los Angeles to pretend to finish a novel, but mostly I ended up drowning myself in seolleongtang. The majority of the queer bars I haunted stood in Silver Lake, sporting a little less sheen than the WeHo circuit farther down Santa Monica Boulevard. One night, I passed through the Eagle, where a Latinx guy working at the hotel I’d been staying in flagged me down by the pool table.

He, too, was from Texas, but he’d recently relocated. He asked how things were back home, and I told him that they were suboptimal.

It’s sad, he said. Because there’s so much potential, you know? The numbers are there. My people are there. But what can you even do? Kids can’t even pull up the fucking Trevor Project at school, he added, referring to a district policy that prevents queer students from accessing resources including the suicide-prevention hotline.

We ordered another round of vodka sodas. A group of gays across the bar began to cheer for their friend, who had either just gotten married or divorced. Eventually, we joined in, too.

I thought of my new friend, in September, when a church just outside Houston hosted a drag bingo night as a fund-raiser for young trans folks, only to be descended upon by a group of neo-Nazis and Proud Boys. Protesters and counter-protesters clashed along a road leading to the house of worship. Local police formed a line on the median. Afterward, despite everything, a pastor at the church deemed the event a success.

At a queer bar that weekend, about thirty miles away, my boyfriend, L, and I watched the usual assortment of karaoke singers cross a stage. Spectating was our tiny ritual. (I can confidently sing only songs by BLACKPINK.) Some familiar faces were perched in their corners. We smiled and nodded and touched one another’s elbows and shoulders. Eventually, a straight couple took the stage. They announced that they’d just gotten engaged, and dedicated their performance to the queer folks in attendance, swearing that “it gets better” before immediately launching into Selena’s mournful “No Me Queda Más.”

Behind us, someone asked, What the fuck?

Back in L.A. a few weeks later, I was sitting with two friends on the curb of Akbar, a gay cocktail bar, when a car swerved toward our intersection. A white guy leaned out of his window, yelling, Go get fucked, faggots.

The car honked as it passed us, nearly running the light. The three of us continued to tap at our phones. Then one friend looked up, sighed, and said, Babe, I wish.

The next month, after the fabulous collapse of a years-long project, I was feeling a little frantic, and L suggested that we take advantage of remote work. We ended up in Bangkok for a month. Our hotel, in the Silom area, sat a short walk from the subway line. A slightly longer walk brought us to a strip of queer bars tucked down an alleyway, beside an all-night American-style diner whose tuna salad made me see God.

On our first night out, we met a bespectacled guy at a drag bar. He was a local engineer, and he’d recently come out. A month beforehand, Bangkok had celebrated its first Pride march in years—which was also his first Pride march ever. So we bought him a drink to celebrate, and when I asked how he liked the city’s queer scene he grinned. If you were just looking to cruise, he said, waving at some older white guys ogling a pair of twinks wrapped in Gucci, then the bars were great. But the pandemic hadn’t been kind to many of the city’s queer establishments.

A lot of folks just hang out at home, he said. Tourist life and local queerness are different.

Another club I frequented underlined this dynamic. Tucked away on the upper floor of a nearby shopping mall, it was basically a local bear bar. The vibe felt worlds away from the evening strip’s sheen. Its clientele lounged in beach chairs. The occasional expat sipped beer from a straw. A dubbed version of the third “Transformers” movie played on a tiny television by a Jacuzzi.

One guy I met came from Indonesia. He asked whether I was Thai-Muslim (I’m not), and, when I told him I lived in the States, he asked how many of them I’d visited. He’d spent the last two years in Jakarta by himself. But he wasn’t out to his family. Indonesia was a tough place to be queer, and Bangkok was a reprieve.

I can let my guard down, he said. I can’t even tell you what that’s like.

By the time we returned to Houston, mpox—the disease often called by the harmful name “monkeypox”—had been declared a global health emergency. The epidemic had spread throughout the country, while testing remained virtually impossible. One buddy picked it up from a hookup. Another’s partner had a brush with it after an orgy. The vaccine requirements were constantly shifting: you could possibly, maybe receive one, but only if you were deemed sufficiently high-risk, and then only if you were “a man who had sex with men,” a wildly inadequate qualifier. The most accurate information I received came not from the government but by way of gay bars, sex clubs, and other queer-forward spaces hastily fortifying informal networks.

L and I spent a long Tuesday on the phone, flailing for an available shot. Two weeks later, pulling up for our appointments, we found that we were the only non-white folks in line at a predominantly Black neighborhood’s community center in South Houston. As it turned out, the government had sat on hundreds of thousands of doses. In the following month, supply strains would exacerbate racial disparities in vaccine access and medical disenfranchisement among queer folks of color.

But, at the end of July, Beyoncé released “Renaissance.” I started the album in my car the morning after its release and simply never stopped playing it. That same weekend, ducking through Houston’s queer circuit, I heard a d.j. in a packed bar start one song from the record (“Heated”) before slipping into another (“Virgo’s Groove”) and then a third (“Pure/Honey”) as the room worked itself into a pulsing huff of steam. When I finally stepped outside for air, I was enfolded into a group of folks still running through the lyrics, clapping each other on our shoulders and backs, nearly tearful, deeply euphoric.

In August, realizing that I’d either have to finish my novel or simply walk into the Gulf of Mexico, I holed up in a Vancouver studio overlooking the downtown skyline. Most mornings, I ambled down to the Vietnamese diner stationed by the building’s garage, until the matron started heading instinctively toward the coffee machine whenever I squeezed through the door. One evening, I passed through a restaurant for katsu curry and noticed that an Indian guy was the only other person eating alone. We exchanged polite smiles. A few hours later, nursing a drink at a queer bar, I spotted the same guy.

He was visiting with his family. He’d been hoping for a fun vacation, but mpox had him wary. He said that he’d just graduated university. I congratulated him, and he asked whether he could have a hug. When I gave him one, I could feel his entire body relax. He said that he’d only recently started going to the bars by himself, because he wasn’t entirely out. I told him it wasn’t a race, and he laughed.

That’s what everyone keeps saying, he added. But first there was COVID? It feels like a raw deal, like it’s all one risk after another.

A few weeks later, back in the Bay Area, I stood vaping with some folks outside a queer bar when a gray S.U.V. settled beside us. Its driver unrolled the window, unstrapped himself from a seatbelt, and yelled that he was fine with a queer bar in his neighborhood, but that we needed to keep our fag shit in the building.

He asked whether we understood. Four other smokers and I blinked at one another. None of us said anything. There were too many uncertain variables. Finally, the oldest person standing among us, a bearded Filipino guy, said, Sure, honey, and the car rolled away.

We stood in silence for another beat, puffing away, a little rattled. Then another person, a Black individual in overalls, the smallest one among us, said, He looked like his breath fucking stank.

In November, sleepwalking toward a manuscript deadline, I visited Amsterdam. The city unfurled in a moody way, guided by canals and folks meandering on bikes along brick-laden roads. Every few streets, a rain-worn building sported the Progress Pride flag.

As far as I know there’s only one gay sauna in Amsterdam. On a weekday, it was hardly populated. I ended up sitting in a hot tub between two guys, one of whom said that he was from Spain, and in the way of queers everywhere we started in on our recent grievances. The Spanish guy said that he was living in London for work. This was the first trip he’d taken since relocating. He grew up in a small town, and adolescence had been tough on him. London had been an education, and now he was furthering it.

The other guy was white and younger than both of us. We’d taken him for a local. But when we asked where he was from, he said Kyiv, and the reality of his situation—the war across the continent—sent a chill through the water.

Holy fuck, we said.

It’s all right, the guy replied. I’d never been to a gay bar. I’ve never been to a place like this, he said. I’m trying new things— hoping for the best, you know?

We nodded. But how could we possibly know?

The week before Thanksgiving, L and I lounged on the patio of our local leather spot, because I’d just finished copy edits on my novel and it was time to celebrate. Then, starting at one end of Montrose, we careened from bar to bar. I managed to stay afloat until two in the morning. A crisp chill hung over the patios. Folks huddled together as they passed, cheering on strangers, imploring them to stay safe. A few hours later, we woke up to news of the Club Q shooting in Colorado Springs. A shooter had killed five people in the queer nightclub and wounded at least nineteen more.

It all felt like—and it all is—entirely too much. A country that prides itself on queer progressiveness on an international stage refuses to provide safety and human rights for its residents. This month, the Respect for Marriage Act has become law, but what is the privilege of marriage to communities without the baseline necessities, who face regular violence in their attempts to secure them?

On Thanksgiving evening, after making the rounds of our assorted found families, we made our way back to the queer bars, settling into JR.’s. The atmosphere was muted. Looks of recognition passed from patron to patron. But, as the evening progressed, the room turned more crowded—never packed, but lively—until it felt like being present for each other was a gift in itself.

On the karaoke stage, a drag queen lamented the shootings. She said that things were taking a turn for the worse. But then she asked whether anyone in the room had something for us to champion. One woman noted that she’d just left a ten-year marriage. Another guy spoke about his new gig. A couple announced that they’d opened up their relationship, drawing a scattering of cheers, because this, too, was touching: to see things normally rendered invisible allowed visibility within this shared space.

And perhaps this is one function of queer spaces: to give what is deemed unworthy—by white supremacy, by stigma, by capitalism—its brightness, even if only for a few hours. Flirting at the bar is holy. Biding time on a hookup app by the pool table is holy. A sleepy evening sipping lukewarm beer with found family is holy. Chatting with the muscle-cub bartender is holy. A midnight drag show on a week night is holy. Sucking dick in a dark room is holy, and so is waiting until you’ve gotten home, and so is opting out of the meat market entirely for a lazy pecan waffle with eggs at the all-you-can-eat diner once the bars have closed. Coming out incessantly is holy. Coming together is holy. A hastily organized orgy is holy. And mundanity is holy—perhaps even the holiest, because it is worth everything to insure that the most disenfranchised among us receive the same ordinary benefit of the doubt.

With the queen’s interlude over, karaoke began again. An older Black dude sang Luther Vandross. Some Latinx folks followed with Selena Gomez. A Black woman sang Jill Scott with her white friend. And then an Asian guy took the stage for an astoundingly beautiful rendition of “Rocket Man,” which felt like the appropriate note to depart on. We finished our beers and slipped out into the rain, taking care not to trip on the concrete.  ♦

[soberqueerinthewild]

okay i am not the young lesbian who submitted to jamie's blog BUT i saw you reblog and i am just desperate for an older queer woman to give me just like. any advice about dating as a lesbian. like i'm in college and i've had one short-term relationship (met on a dating app) and i just don't know what the good ways to meet people are... any tips?

Hi! Happy to give advice though one side effect of being old is that all of my dating advice is like…12 years out of date lol! But my best advice is to find other queer people to hang out with, even ones you don’t want to date because queer people know other queer people you maybe can date and will go out with you places you might meet queer people (and also queer friends are the best).

Does your college have any queer clubs? A general lgbtq group or like a queer outdoors club? Or if you’re sporty, queer adjacent things like rugby or roller derby. I met my wife at a dyke night at a bar a few years out of college (results may vary on that one) but I went to the bar that night with my best platonic queer friend that I met in my college’s rainbow alliance.

As an adult I’ve built queer community by risking seeming lame/desperate and literally going up to other queer people and being like “I’m queer, you seem queer, want to be friends?” and exchanging numbers. There was a queer hiking club near me where I met some other friends. When I have done the scary, potentially embarrassing thing by putting myself out there to make friends, I have often found that the other people super grateful because they wouldn’t have done it but would’ve wanted to.

I also have developed queer friendships in online spaces like tumblr (hi friends!!) but in terms of helping you date it can be harder if they live far from you.

My other advice around this is, not every queer person or queer group is gonna be a good fit for you and that’s ok. I struggled a bit right out of college and joined a gay basketball league and everyone in it was kind of cliquey and made me feel kinda uncool and bad about myself and like, with time and distance I realized those just weren’t my people and I wish I’d spent less time trying to get them to like me and more time figuring out if I actually liked them.

And apps are fine too! I am old and thus only ever did ok Cupid because tinder didn’t exist when I was dating. I didn’t have great luck but do have a story from an ok Cupid date that’s hilariously awful that I still tell to 13 years later and always gets laughs so, you know I got that out of it at least! I did not have a great time but have a friend who met her wife on a dating app so it definitely can work!

I have a bunch of lovely queer mutuals who may have some great advice for you too!!

#queer community #asks #random rambling

[pcrfectstorms]

okay, so i want to talk a little about eddie munson’s relationship to sex and his sexuality, since i haven’t really addressed it beyond his obvious queerness. tw for SA mention && general nsfw

given the time period, ‘queer’ in the way we use it today wasn’t super commonly used, the reclamation of the word was pretty much in its infancy, and for the most part was still largely used as a slur, so while eddie will crack jokes to those he’s close too and trust about being a queer, it’s not really how he’d self identify his sexuality. he is pansexual, but while pansexual was used in the 80′s wasn’t super commonly used, and more so used within the kink and leather communities. so eddie, if pushed would shrug and tell you he’s gay or whatever, he likes both, doesn’t discriminate, likes to keep his options open --you get the idea. he’s more a vibes over gender type person, but definitely has more crushes on boys.

so what you gotta know is hawkins eddie, and Indianapolis eddie is two very different persona’s, in the city he is much more confident and flirty, and openly queer (in safe spaces), he can put on his persona and be the very best version he wishes he could always, but eddie is a flirt naturally, so while he is more sure of himself in indy, boy will flirt regardless.

most of what he’s learned about sex, has been with the men he met in gay clubs in indianapolisis, he got a fake ID when he was 16, as soon as he could drive and started going into the city, at first it was dive bars and punk scene type venues, and eventually he learned about club 21, and stated to explore the gay scene as a baby queer who had limited experience with men or women. most of his experience were with much older men, who sweet talked him, and took advantage of naivety pushing his limits beyond what he was comfortable with. Almost all of his sexual experiences with older men haven’t been favourable, and the consent has been questionable at best, and down right absent in other cases.

eddie is vers, however given his bad experience in the past, he will say he’s a top, in order to protect himself and avoid getting hurt again, if he’s the one calling the shots it has to go in his favour, right? he does have an interest in kink and BDSM, although he isn’t super well versed on things, since his limited experience comes from older ‘dominant’ tops, and while he has had at least one good experience with a guy who was only 4 years his senior, who taught him all about safe words, and traffic light code, and even taught him some shirbari, which he is super fascinated by.

he is vaguely aware of hanky code, and queer flagging, he knows as much in that wearing it in his back pocket signals to fellow queers he is queer, but not so much in the in depth knowledge that wearing a black one in his left pocket means he’s flagging as an S&M top, however close to the truth that may be, it’s purely coincidental. but when someone points that out to him in indy, he goes along with it, and finds it a little funny since, he’s only really bottomed at this point.

as far as his gender presentation and identity goes, he’s cis-ish, but very much gender non-conforming, metalhead fashion has a lot of cross over with queer fashion and i think that’s super important to take note of, w.a.s.p which, eddie has a pin of so clearly is a fan’s style was very much gender nonconforming, and then you have the lead singer of Judas Priest, Rob Halford,  an openly gay man (although closeted at the time in ‘86) who had HUGE influence on metal fashion and pushing the boundaries of gender fuckery in fashion, eddie is absolutely influenced by him, by bowie, by elements of hair metal style and punk too, all of which have an over arching theme of gender nonconformity, so to eddie, call him a boy, a girl, anything in between and he literally wouldn’t give a shit, he’s an any pronouns kinda bitch and i love that for him.

#❛ so you think you know me ❜ [ headcanons ; eddie munson ] #tw implied sa

[regretsofalifeandlovelost]

Dazed and Confused

I am on my second drink at the bar by the time he shows up. I am filled with guilt towards my sister and my partner, but I don't know where my partner is. It dawns on me that he has probably been doing the same thing with someone else. It dawns on me that my sister is probably doing the same. It doesn't help me feel any less guilty. The flooding of emotions roller coasting between guilt and fuck that was mind blowing was really messing with my head. I ordered a third drink before I finally spoke to him. All I can say is "wow and what the fuck". He asks me in a surprised voice what do you mean?. I tell him that was the first time I had ever had an orgasm EVER. I tell him that is the first time I have been fucked like that. It's the first time I've ever had anyone see my naked like that. He's obviously shocked. My partner arrives with "Jessica" and "Dan".. She tells me that my partner loved sucking "Dans" cock while she rode him. I am shocked, my partner then makes a statement to the effect of "So you guys just enjoyed the bar".. still in shock I responded "something like that"… I was still shocked at the gay dick sucking thing that he had been doing. He had always come across as being homophobic. Maybe that was why he showed so little interest in satisfying me sexually.. My mind raced. We left when I finished the drink leaving "Jessica" and "Dan" with my sisters husband.

On the way home my mind raced, darting between my partner of over 20 years being gay or at least bisexual and how I was going to break the news that I had fucked my sisters husband to my partner and her. I didn't sleep at all that night, I lay there in bed thinking sexual thoughts and guilt. My fingers found their way down to my clitoris and played with it briefly a few times, each time feeling more comfortable and enjoyable. I was rather tender down there from all the hard work it had done. I lay there thinking of a time where I had sex or any sexual activity more than once in a 24 hour and can only think of one night with my second boyfriend. I must have dozed off because I woke to my partner making breakfast. I walk out feeling hung over, my muscles sore and very dazed. We sit on the bar stools and I ask him how he felt about last night. It was like a weight had been lifted off our shoulders and we chatted openly for hours. Not once did he mention or ask how my night was so I refrained from telling him. I tell him that I am going to shower and that it would be advisable for him to come and join me. He looks eager as we head to the bathroom. We shower and caress each other before moving to the bedroom. I start giving him a blow job and then move to try and replicate the previous night. I am tender and I just can't seem to get his cock to find the right spot. Instead I ride him in big strokes awkwardly letting him cum inside me. In a first for our relationship he starts to go down on me, licking his own cum up from my pussy, awkwardly trying to use his tongue. I tell him to focus in different areas and then eventually he gets there. Holding his head between my legs and thrusting my hips he helps me orgasm for the first time in our relationship. He comes up and asks was that something that I learnt the previous night.. I have to be honest and tell him not exactly. I tell him what happened. He seems hurt and at the same time aroused, I can see his cock is hard as a rock again. I give him a blow job, he ejaculates quickly. As he lay there he starts to ask me questions, all of them centred around penis size, shape, was it good etc. I feel that I can not really be honest with him as I know it would hurt his feelings. He then asks me who it was with, I change the question and ask him about how "Jessica" and "Dan" were, he starts to tell me everything in minute detail, how Dan had a massive cock, Jessica was a fitness instructor/Personal trainer, they liked MMF threesomes. They had swapped numbers to meet again away from the club. I told him that was great news.

The next few days went by as a blur. All that I could think of was sex, how could I tell my sister and when we could go back to the club. My partner and I had rejuvenated our sex life but it was still a case of the blind leading the blind. It had got to Wednesday and I asked if we should invite "Jessica" and "Dan" over for drinks and some exploration on Friday night. I said I wanted to watch how others fucked so I could learn. Friday came and we had a few drinks, the kids had gone to bed and we started to fool around. It became immediately obvious that Dan was only interested in my partner and Jessica was a willing participant. I wasn't going to learn much but I watched anyway. It was arousing to see Dan's huge cock in my partners mouth, to see how hot Jessica's body was, all her muscles ripple in the candle light. Her body completely hair free, It made me wonder if I should get hair removal. While I was watching I was thinking of my sisters husband and for the first time picked up my phone and sent him a message "how you doing?"…

[swiftstigmata]

Sorry if this is an intrusive question but you’re the only person I know who lives in Brighton lol. I’m looking at university courses and I was wondering what it’s like living there?

Hi! This isn’t intrusive at all, this has been sat in my drafts because I was trying to give you a good reply.

Firstly I wanna say (and I think this is the same as anyone in a big city) I absolutely live in a little bubble in Brighton and I’m sure plenty of other people have different experiences and impressions etc. BUT I think my demographic is probably gonna be similar to yours (baristas! uni students! the gay and mentally ill!). I also lived in London on and off for 4 years so the comparison is at the back of my mind at all times and that paints how I view the place!

I’m also a post grad which changes my experience of the university hugely. I never lived in halls - I’m probably not the best person to ask if that’s your goal though some of this will apply!

So. Brighton university is great (I’m doing my MA there) and very supportive in my experience. The city itself is fairly small and very easy to get around, the buses are brilliant but also the center is in walking distance from everywhere pretty much. Rent is high - not quite London but above average for anywhere else, especially the north, around £1k for a 1 bed anywhere in the city itself unless you’re very lucky - but in my experience cost of living is the same as anywhere. There’s lots of Lidls.

In terms of my bubble - 20-35, mostly hospitality workers who are studying or are musicians/artists - everyone is gay, I think I’ve met about 3 straight people in the last 2 years and one of them lives with me. The rumours are true. The gay scene is more aimed at cis gay men to an extent but is always developing and moving forward and in my humble opinion there’s no city where you can be as yourself as Brighton. To the point where the mullet-moustache-Lucy & Yak look is totally dominant and going back to London was like reverse culture shock for me. Alternative fashion is the mainstream. It’s super indie almost to the point of being pretentious and annoying and falls into that trap of everyone looking the same because they’re trying to look different, but tbh I love that. Even if you’re just a visitor the Lanes are such a great place to come and shop and find clothes and whole new looks and also sit in one of the 100000 indie coffee shops that are everywhere (except mine is the best).

The going out scene (again! In my bubble!) is pretty different to a lot of uni towns I think - the clubs are almost totally based around the gay scene and there’s a big culture of pubs, grubby bars and gigs as opposed to the pre-drinking, cocktails, club pipeline (which tended to be the London vibe when I lived there). Live music is a huge thing, open mic nights are everywhere (a classic conversation when you go somewhere new is “was it ‘very Brighton’” “well it was open mic night” ) and gigs are generally cheap. The most popular (in my bubble! I’m so biased here all my friends/colleagues are a certain type of musician) are probably Green Door, the Hope & Ruin, then Revenge (the biggest gay club in Brighton). The music scene is pretty famous and the music schools here are some of the best in the country so you WILL spend most of your time listening to people talk about their music. Take that however you want.

I think much more than London Brighton is a less lonely city - I don’t know if this is because I was so unwell when I lived there, and my time of life has changed (im old now) but making friends and a community has been soooo much easier. To a large extent everyone knows each other and you’re usually only one connection away from everyone else (in the musician scene at least). My absolute top tip would be (if you can) to get a job in hospitality - bar work, waitressing, coffee shops - as the easiest way to make friends, more so than the university. Again. Post-grad.

I could write a whole essay on the history of Brighton and the things to do Museum wise because that’s literally my degree so if you want to know anything else please just ask!! I don’t mind replying to messages either. I can give more info on what it’s like studying in London too if you’re torn (short answer: don’t) or direct you to resources. MWAH

#.txt #answered #i don’t know if this is what you wanted but it’s been a little while so I thought I would just post!!! #if you live in Brighton please don’t stalk me thanks xx

[ruralbi]

You know what's really sad? I'm 31 I'm slowly entering the end of my twink years. But that's not the sad part, as I'm planning to do a graceful transition to a beautiful otter, probably around 40yo. On God I'll get proper hairy one day.

(aparté, as a younger man I used to bemoan the end of my twink years at like 23 but I was sorely mistaken. Now I realize every day as I stand next to regular degular men that I am..... still a fucking twink. Now distinguished by less MDMA and more face lines, but still very obviously different than the just some guys next to me.) (I call this the Wilson life stage) like idk I got older but the older guys I'm into got older as well so in comparison with them I'm still twinkish? Drug addicted club slut is the burgeoning stage of twink life and now I'm blossoming into a beautiful bitch who listens to eurodance at Sunday brunch. Before if I did a huge scene bc whoever I was dating didn't pay me enough attention it was bc I had too much coke, now it's because I'm just a melodramatic brat like that. And that's growth baby. Find out who you are and do it on purpose.)

Anyway the sad part is the abysmal bear prospects in my area.

There's the mason who calls me beautiful and loves to talk about what he would do to me if he were ten years younger, but I've become friends with his wife.

There's the farmer who asked me to go to the sauna with him but he's friends with my parents AND his son is my age. (Tbh I'm kinda convinced I fumbled that one and should've gone for it, but the SAUNA as a FIRST DATE??? I do need substance abuse for that one chief, at least do the bar bathroom so I can have a drink beforehand I beg you) I could've gotten railed in the normal very much not gay sauna with like the third grade history teacher and my coworker's mother wondering what the hell is that noise in the next room, what a miss. I still buy his milk, it's a small comfort to me. He pretends he never invited me to the sauna and jokes about women ay what can you do! with my dad.

(moment of silence for the builder bottom who ended up threatening my housemate (his coworker) and almost hit me when I intervened about it. A Chihuahua can still bite bitch, I hope I never see him again BUT he was hot and a proper bear)

Best prospect currently is a local radio announcer but he's possibly not fat enough idk I need to see him naked, ideally in a jockstrap... to really make up my mind. And unlike all the others he's not propositioned me already, so I'm doing the eyes with force of a thousand suns. My resolution is to invite him to the bar in two weeks and if he says yes I'll see what he does in the bathroom.

And yes the current obsession with older bears is because I'm still holding to my word to not fuck my toxic ex (who was a young bear, unbecoming of myself really).

I haven't been touched in SO long like I seriously need to hold hands while watching telly but I would settle for cocksucking at this stage. local radio host please call me.

I hold hope bc we had several conversations where I batted my eyelashes and he told me that he's old, poor and okay with trans people. I'm like bitch me too! We have so much in common, let me suck your dick about it.

[290896]

Happy Birthday! This letter is meant to be read in chunks, like while you are on the crapper or something. Don't go through it all at once!

--

Do you have a gay bestie? Cause if you don’t i’d like to volunteer for the position. I can start today. 🙋🏻‍♂️

Every it girl needs a gay best friend bro c’mon.

—

한승주

One thing I appreciate so much about you is that even though we've only met in person no more than 2 or 3 times, you treat me like someone you've known forever. I mean you made time to meet me even though you were sick, even though you were swamped with work. You gave me the nicest hug even though I told you not to cause I was sweaty. Not only that but you didn't even let me pay for anything, and you were about ready to hop a cab over to Parnas due to a mistake that I MADE in communication. You and your drip IV'd ass said you "felt bad" that I, a military man mind you, had to walk less than a kilometer through a bit of heat to come see you.

I can only imagine how well you must treat your actual, longtime friends.

--

김치

Kimchi is storing something good away, in hopes that something great might come of it later. - JY Park, circa 2016

--

You and I have been chatting since 2014 or so. And to be honest I've always wanted to hangout with you back then, but never really felt right doing so. I think I was intimidated to be honest. You being this cool, interesting Northwestern gal. And me being a lump of coal who just went to Columbia. So almost on purpose, I kept my distance in college, then throughout the years, only making sure to check in every now and then so that we don't lose touch.

I'm quite glad I did though.

People say it's harder to make friends the older you get. I don't agree. I think finding GOOD friends becomes much harder though. All you start to want as you get older are people who you can fully be yourself with, and who will bring you up instead of drag you down.

I can tell that you are someone who fits that criteria for your friends.

For myself at least, I'm glad I can be myself with you without being judged. You've never inquired as to my background, my gender, or anything much really and yet you do show signs of care and concern, offering to send me care packages multiple times throughout the years. You've also listened and replied to my rants when I have been at my lowest points. Thank you for that by the way.

As I mentioned last time, you are one of the very few people in my life whom I wish I could swap lives with for a bit. And I don't say that out of a place of envy or anything but rather I know that If I were to follow in your footsteps so to speak, that I'd inevitably be successful one day.

That might be a roundabout way of saying that I know YOU are going to be successful.

I admire your work ethic. I admire the fact that you've worked for most everything you have the past half decade. We joke about you needing a sugar daddy but something tells me that even if you had one, you wouldn't be happy for long. You're too driven to just lie around all day. No sooner than later you'd be coming up with a business plan for a pilates club or juice bar. (I could be wrong though)

--

Lowkey I'm kinda glad I never took you up on goin out to Sound Bar or anything. I'm glad we never formally hung out in college. Sorta like 김치 (aha, you were wondering what the heck that was about) I think it's more fitting that we get to know eachother a bit more now that we're more mature and kinda know who we are.

I don't know about you but for me this is one of the most unconventional friendships I've had, period. In constant communication for almost a decade, only having met twice or thrice, and not really knowing too much about eachother but still having a sense of care for one another. Going from being an hour-ish apart from one continent to being an hour-ish apart on this continent. We're like modern day pen pals and I think that's pretty cool.

--

Before I left the other day the last thing you said to me was to check in with you alot now that I'm here. I'll try. Like I said at our age, you start to only care about having a few good people rather than alot of average people.

And you are definitely good people.

You lumped me in with Sara which I thought I really haven't deserved yet. Cause I haven't really done much for you honestly. Though now that I'm here I look forward to being able to do more and to actually be a friend rather than a pen pal.

I'm thankful that in the little time we had you were able to share some stuff with me. I learned a lot about you in that little timeframe believe it or not. In the coming year I hope I get to learn alot more. And if you ever wanna know anything about me, just ask. I'm an open book.

--

Some of my favorite things about you so far : love your gummy smile, it's the best. Love how direct and straightforward you are. It's almost uncomfortably blunt at times but definitely preferred. Love how considerate and courteous you are.

Some things I'm curious about: What's something you can talk about and never get bored of? What do your tattoos mean, if anything? What brands fill your closet the most? How many best friends do you have? What makes them your best friend?

--

Lookit I wish every good thing happens for you. I hope you make partner, and achieve every career goal you set. I hope you find the guy of your dreams who checks all of your boxes without compromise. I hope your health miraculously gets better. I hope your family are all happy and healthy. Literally I just want you to be happy, and I want you to not ever have to feel like happiness awaits in the future. Ya know what I mean? Not when you've got the position or the house or the car or the man but now. And if you ever struggle with that, do let someone know. Let me know.

I hope you have a wonderful birthday. I am honored to have been able to have wished you in person, even if a bit early. Glad I got to finally get you something other than autoshipped flowers. I look forward to spending more time with you this year! Im thinking your next birthday, for our 10 year frienniversary we could probably do something special if you wanted. Maybe a trip to a resort island or something, anything! My treat of course

--

PS

was not kidding about the gay best friend part

[castle-dominion]

Half of one. 4x8 heartbreak hotel.

Castle??? Castle has been to this bar 20 years ago & is still kicked out my guess.

Poor depressed alexis. No murder teaser today The 80s are so right

Where is atlantic city? Heavy? oh gun Six Still aSleep Cylinder (Ooh ryan's outfit today hhh except the stripes, espt is wearing pyjamas again tho) Come on captions, let me hear The Gambler being quoted! CASTLE: Well, you gotta know when to hold ‘em. And know when to fold ‘em. ESPOSITO: Know when to walk away, and know when to run. At least the transcript has it [Lanie glares at Esposito.] LP: Detective Esposito, a little respect please? I mean, there is a dead body here. JE: What’d I do? [Lanie turns away with a saucy/annoyed tilt of her head.] RC: You broke up with her. JE: We broke up with each -other. That’s different. RC: Yeah, you think it’d be different, but no. JE: (to Beckett)What’d you tell him? KB: No, I told you I’m staying out of this one.

JE: Women. You sure you want to spend the rest of your life with one? KR: Uh, yeah. !! Mine likes me. RC: (chuckles) Ooh! Speaking of Atlantic City… perfect place for a bachelor party. KR: JE: Ooh, that’s what I’m talking about, bro. KR: JE: We could rent one of these right here, hit the casino, maybe the club. KR: Uh, I was thinking more along the lines of…camping trip. [Castle bursts out laughing, but Ryan looks serious.] RC: Oh, you were…oh. JE: Uh, first of all, no. Second, it’s not up to you. The bachelor party is strictly best man territory. And, by the way, your big date is what? Like, two months away? So, you need to officially tell the guy so that he can start planning something. KR: I still got some time. Um, I--I’m gonna go check on those cameras. [Ryan leaves.] JE: What the f--? Did you see that? He just sidestepped me. What’s that about? RC: It’s almost as though the thought of marriage fills him with an impending sense of doom. (chuckles) Oh, no, wait, that’s me. You know, having a best man is just So Gay. You're proposing to another man to be by your side at a wedding.

RS: We don’t really get along anymore. Me: Well yeah, that's why u got a divorce I'm beginning to remember this episode. There is some intense stuff & I don't understand it. Good thing I'm watching twice & care more about the characters than the mystery. I suddenly figured out why people like writing high school AUs.

Rick trails off as soon as gates looks at him

VG: Go to atlantic city. KR: *Checks his watch twice over* That's true, I thought she meant all the boys but then castle isn't one of the boys he's some tagalong but then she DID want him to go with them & it's good bc then she gets to see becks working w/o castle. She's going to be frustrated & angry without his comic relief & coffee taxiing.

[Castle stops the elevator from closing, he looks all silly & squished.] JE: What are you doing? RC: What does it look like? Did you think I was gonna pass up a road trip to the Boardwalk Empire? (Wow he really is 6'2") The east coast epicenter of dancing, gambling, showgirls, and sin? KR: You do realize we’re going there to investigate a murder, don’t you? RC: Gentlemen, *puts arms around them* JE: *looks at castle's arm around him in discomfort* RC: if I have learned one thing, it’s to not let a little thing like murder get in the way of having a good time. *espt shakes his head, ryan frowns* Oh, and also…shotgun.

Poor ryan, espt always drives & castle, the non-cop, somehow had them respect his call for shotgun "Love you bai!" He loves his daughter sm.

KR: Ah… I’m starting to understand why you ditched Beckett. A--and for the record, the one guy in this car who’s not a real cop is not allowed to call shotgun! RC: Called it fair and square. *KR shakes head* JE: Maybe Castle’s right. I mean, since we’re gonna be there, we might as well consider The Sapphire as a potential bachelor party venue. *smirks slightly to castle* RC: I’m so happy you said that, because there are a number of establishments down there that cater to bachelor party events. I think maybe we should take a little sampling. KR: No, no, no. We are not “sampling” any clubs. JE: What? *looks at him in the rear-view* Come on, bro. Why are you stallin’ us on this? KR: Look, Javier, (he doesn't tap the r, & pronounces it with three syllables instead of two) I— I… (sigh) I've got some bad news. I had to ask Jenny’s half-brother, Nelson, to be my best man. JE: *face falls* RC: *turns to look out the window* JE: Nelson? KR: *looking sadly down* JE: That guy I met at your birthday party? (I'd like to see that. Someone write a fanfic.) Sixteen with braces? Couldn’t stop talking about being a mathlete? KR: It was a family thing. I--I didn’t have a choice. JE: Yeah, you did. RC: No, actually, when it comes to weddings, uh, (chuckling) you don’t. Trust me, you do not want to start a marriage with a family feud. JE: RC: *looks back out the window* JE: This sucks. >:( KR: I know, JE: And I was gonna give you an awesome sendoff, bro. KR: Ugh, I know! RC: Well, boys, I’m sorry. I’m sorry it had to come to this. I didn’t want it to, but it looks like we have no choice. There is no other way. I.B.P.W.O.C. Me: what (also, we should start saying "wed" not "double-yu" RC: Impromptu Bachelor Party While On Case! *holds up for a high five which nobody takes*

I am quoting too much Nice music lol CASTLE: Ah…smell that? That is the smell of hopes, dreams, and endless opportunities. RYAN: Not to be confused with cigarette smoke, day drinking, and desperation.

Love her hair RC: Who's playing? KR: (poor guy looks so uncomfy)

Beckett is wearing PJs this time. Maybe she WAS dressing for castle like he says in s5

This tony fellow. Card counting is legal as long as you can remember it. Btw Dan Sullivan looks like a half-brother mathlete nelson Ryan: sitting straigh Espt: Sitting normal Castle: Standing Is that... slang for sexual favours? Or is it for good luck? Is the good luck smth you only ask your girl for?

Well that's loud, & also I love the little old lady there

LT, one of the two cops I know have names! Along with Velasquez I swear to god AND MY MOTHER I respect this guy.

rystlesito is great lol I know I'm trans & folk catholic but I want to try burlesque. RC: *excited* JE: *pleased* KR: *uncomfy* that is a LOT of cams

Castle: *grabs a chair & rolls over* What about me? DS: Disorderly conduct, resisting arrest in 2003 and, uh…wow. Apparently the last time you were at The Sapphire you accidentally set a mattress on fire and the drapes were covered in.. jam. KR: JE:

I love how gates is beckett's partner here *calls espt rather than ryan or castle* Love ryan's voice: No bloody lip yet. Let it play, please.

Ryan *casually puts hands in pockets, revealing his sexy waistcoat & badge* Haymaker not hook I think but idk He was On The Floor when that happened? CT: And now it’s today and my friend is dead and the money’s still gone. Oof

KB: ... Actually, that’s something that Castle’s pretty good at. VG: *eyebrow* KB: Taking a look at what we have and then helping to find that piece.

This gal looks like someone I know, a mix of several ppl I know. She also does not look like a SW but yk don't judge a book. RC: Well, what with mobile devices being so small and slim, perhaps he had it in his hand. KR: *gestures to castle meaning "yeah what he said"* Amber: His hands were otherwise occupied. RC: *waiting* Amber: KR: *squinting* JE: *looks at rystle* KR+RC: *faces immediately change* RC: OH. JE: *looks back to amber like "my friends are so dumb"* RC: OH, *laughing* I get it. THAT KIND OF MASSAGE. *looks her down*

Gates & beckett are talking to Ryan here. Castle is there too & espt is off somewhere else.

WOAH OK THAT WAS INSANE (also the way espt turns around with his arms out. so cut but the muzzle control is not making me happy)

Mum paused the show to tell us about the time she accidentally threw a party very similar to this. Mum was the goody two shoes kid like alexis & accidentally threw a party like alexis. She was also a wild child sometimes like castle & needs me to parent her, like castle.

CT seems like he is not the guy tbh. Love the music design there with them getting phsyically thrown out XD & the rolling & falling is so good. You can tell that they are actors but idc bc it is great

KB: (on cell) Okay, sit tight. I’m driving down. RC: (on speakerphone) No, no…! KR: (on speakerphone) Beckett, we-- you don’t have to do that. We have – JE: No! We’ve got-- no, we really-- RC: …we got it. KR: Yeah, she’s gone.

Poor alexis, accidentally started a party. Really is like my mom. Cut to RC: This is the worst Impromptu Bachelor Party While On Case ever. JE: This is humiliating. We’re homicide detectives with the NYPD. KR: Unfortunately, we’re in New Jersey. At least we’re not on a ticking clock because a woman’s been kidnapped. *hits espt on chest* Oh! Wait. *espt looks at where ryan touched him* We are. There’s got to be some other way we can get in. *Castle sees a bellhop push some costumes into the casino, leans way over, & smirks.* I HAVE SEEN IMAGES FROM THIS & I AM SO EXCITED. Except facial recognition measures the points between your face doesn't it? distance between the eyes? eye to the tip of the nose?

I need to stop I need to not I can't do this this is too good i will die i have work in an hour (well what I mean is I need to leave for work in an hour & a third & then I actually start my shift in nearly 3 hours but it is not a short bus ride & I need to be there early enough to change but that means I need to take the earlier bus instead of the bus that gets me there only 5 minutes on-time rather than 15 minutes early ugh I forgot to take my anti-depressants yesterday & so I'm hella angry rn. I don't like having a job. The horrors. Maybe if it was an easier commute, I didn't have to iron clothes, & it was JUST line cooking, no prep, or JUST prep & no line cooking, & I actually understood what I was doing, & I didn't have to take a long bus ride in the heat, & I actually passed for male, & I understood whom I'm supposed to confirm my breaks with, & I only had to work 5 hours instead of anything more like the horrific 8, I would be ok. But sadly that is not the case. I should take my anti-anxieties.)

Ok I pressed play & it only lasted for a few seconds. I love the way the two of them are wearing the same outfit but castle in the middle is not. Also daaaang I love seeing ryan's I-have-hip-problems walk with that shirt undone so far, & then even castle's walk is good, & tbh espt is doing p good himself. Can you believe I went through a phase I thought I was a lesbian?

[The boys enter the casino as Elvis impersonators. Castle passes a showgirl and they catch each other's eye. She inspects his outfit.] SHOWGIRL: Very nice. RC: (Elvis voice) Thank you. Thank you very much. [Castle turns back around.] JE: How do you know she wasn’t talking to me? RC: (chuckles) Well… [Castle indicates his costume.] JE: What? Elvis can’t be brown? I’m Elvez. (XD XD XD I LOVE IT F YEAH NATIVE BOY) [Esposito turns around and struts off. He nods to some strangers nearby.] JE: Hey! How you doing? [The boys pass security personelle.]

I need a fic of castle pitching the idea now

In some way I'm all for holding 10mil hostage to get out of sleeping with him. [The bouncers find them.] JE: Oh, hey, guys. Uh, we were just leaving. KR: This isn’t the ballroom. Huh. [Ryan and Esposito exit, but the bouncers stop Castle from leaving.] This is the 16 hours previous, isn't it? It might have been 6am, now it is midnight, that's 16 hours. Long day of work huh. You know, legally you can only have someone work up to 16 hours & not longer than that.

Oh no the piano Oh no the gizmos too! Castle would be mad but proud. AC: Now everybody: OUT! Cut to rysposito getting thrown out KR: Really? JE: Really? If it wasn’t illegal I’d kick your ass. (tho I can't tell if espt said both "really"s or if one was from each like the transcript claims.)

Love how castle is just letting his feet hang yk it took me a second in the beginning to realize it was castle. The cutting for the intro was, interesting Wait illuminati? I like the card playing analogies.

Beckett: *walking out* *stops when she sees her boys looking like elvis & elvez* [Beckett arrives to find Ryan and Esposito in their Elvis costumes.] JE: Oh… KR: Um… funny story? KB: JE: We, uh… Look, this is… We can explain. KB: No, I’m not even sure I want to know. KR+JE: It was Castle’s idea. [Castle exits the casino.] RC: And it worked. I know who killed Sam. All three: Who?

Love the way ryan points that little sneer castle does lol

Oh thank goodness they are back to normal. I really like dan. You said you'd let her go. & just stares down the mobster. *leaves the laptop up* That was ryan not charlie... TM: Come on. If I killed Sam, you’d think you would ever have found the body? The guy you’re looking for ain’t me. He's right He's right again, u can't get money from a dead guy He forged her signature. When her laawyer found out the layer killed sam.

Oh yay back in NY, finally they got some sleep.

Oh wait I was wrong it was not a forgery or a lawyer. Girl u should have burned it. RS: So, when he told me that someone wanted him dead, I thought, “Here’s my chance.” Wait americans can just do that? Don't you need a license to own a gun? You need a license to carry & a license for concealed carry, right? Gosh that's scary. We should get rid of guns. If you want to fight someone, do it right.

I like gates. I like her jelly beans VG: You mean Castle. KB: You said it, not me. [Beckett takes some candy.] VG: He’s not a cop. KB: Yeah, but that’s what makes him so good. VG: (scoffs)Well, speaking of which, where are they? KB: I gave them the afternoon off. Apparently, Ryan got stuck with an underage best man, so the boys are giving him the unofficial bachelor party. VG: I trust you’ll edit their side of the investigation in the report.

Poor alexis, but I love the music Took castle a long time to open the door. Becks gave them the afternoon off tho, why is he back so early? & why does he seem SO hungover? RC: Where’s the, um… where’s the little silver dog statue that’s usually on the back of the couch? AC: Oh, I think Gram said she needed it for set dressing for her play. casually blames gram XD Alexis should have also leaned her head back on the couch like rick. Would have been a good ending.

So I have to go to work in half an hour & I want to punch smth. I'm usually fine once I get there but it's just... starting out is difficult. I can feel my face getting red as I type this from the anxiety. idk what to do for the first part of my shift. idk who to talk to. idk where to get instruction from. The sous chef & the chef are both busy af so I shouldn't talk to them but idk who the shift leader is. I hate doing prep when idk what I'm doing, I hate the cramped space there, I wish I was skinny not necessarily for aesthetic purposes but for mobility purposes. I wish I had a better memory I wish I had better communication I wish we had a 4 hour work day with a four day work week. Except that's full-time, I wish I personally got a 3 day work week. Edit: I'm content with my two day work week. I might be happier with a 3 day work week if I didn't have 8h shifts

So wish me luck. I love you all. I'll be sure to work on my fanfics on the bus ride there.

#castle 4x8 #castle 4x8 spoilers #castle 4x8 quote #the elvis episode

[paintbrushyy]

I’m worried. about something, I shouldn’t be worried about. and it’s so fucking stressful. 

#it's about a girl #and I'm nervous #because if what i'm worried about is true then like it might be a deal breaker #and then like #I've gotta start my process all over again #should I just give up on dating #myabe I should do like my roommate and find a girl at the club #cause it seemed to work out for her #i'm not sure #one more year at least and I can go to all the other gay clubs/bars in boston #cause i'm almost 21 #maybe that'll be my moment #I just want to have a girlfriend already #yall have no idea how hard it's been #7 girls #20 dates #all leading no where #cause either they're not my type #i'm too chickenshit #or they're not ready #like hot damn lord just give me one butch lesbian who will kiss me and hold my hand and'll want to love me #I want that sweet sweet affection #but no #I'm stuck #pining #for everyone #and not getting anywhere #fuck #i'm just rambeling #ugh

[storiesforallfandoms]

when they wrongfully accuse you of cheating ~ misfits

request?: yes!

“Hello, can you do please do post about Misfits when they wrongly accuses reader of cheating? Have a nice day❤”

warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, angst

masterlist (one, two)

FITZ:

After his not so great run in with She Who Shall Not be Names (Katerino), Cameron’s trust levels were not very high. When he started dating you, he tried to push those concerns to the back of his mind. You had a similar experience with an ex as he had with Kate, so he felt the likeliness of you cheating on him was very slim. But then he met a friend of yours, a friend that happened to be a guy, a guy friend that Cameron felt was getting a little too close to you. This, unfortunately, resulted in a fight that lasted nearly an entire hour. “(Y/F/N) is just a friend, Cam! There’s nothing between us!” “You spend so much more time with him than you do with me, though. You’re always out together, you always want to hang out with him, you were even out with him the other night when you told me you were going out for a girl’s night!” You scoffed and handed the final blow of the argument, “If you fucking listened to me for one second you’d let me explain that (Y/F/N) is fucking gay!” You slammed the door behind you as you left Cameron’s apartment, leaving him speechless, heartbroken, and feeling like a complete fucking idiot.

~~~~~~

INOTORIOUS:

While Matt often did join in on the jokes at his expense with his friends, he couldn’t help but take them to heart too. He knew none of his friends meant anything by what they were saying, but he often found himself believing the playful insults they threw his way. This led to him believing he wasn’t good enough to be with you and worrying about the day when you’d realize you could do better and break up with him. All his fears and insecurities came to a head when he noticed how close of friends you and Cam were becoming. “I don’t like that you hang out with Cam so much.” You looked up at him over your laptop, raising an eyebrow. “Why not?” “I just...I don’t like it. I don’t mind that you’re friends with the guys, but you and Cam are...you’re different. I don’t like it.” You placed your laptop aside and sat up so you could directly walk to him. “What exactly is different about me and Cam?” “You just...you’re all touchy feely and you have inside jokes and you hang out alone together a lot...like...like a lot a lot.” “I don’t hang out with Cam alone at all. Usually one of the guys is there with us.” “You go out smoking weed with him.” “Yeah, and you can see us through the glass windows that lead out into the backyard, that’s hardly alone. What’s this really about, Matt?” He shuffled in his seat, not wanting to voice the concerns that he had. He was looking down at his hands, avoiding eye contact at all costs. This was enough of an answer for you. “You think I’m gonna fool around with Cam behind your back?” Matt started to shake his head, but then stopped. “Matt, you know I’d never do that to you. Cam is just my friend, I think of him as the big brother I never had.” “But he’s...he’s like...so much better than I am...” You stood up to hug Matt, bringing his head to your chest and cradling him as you ran your fingers through your hair. “Cam is far from better than you, Matt. You are the most amazing person I have ever met. I’d be crazy to let you go for anyone else, let alone Cam. You’re my one and only, okay? I love you.”

~~~~~~

MCCREAMY:

Long distance relationships sucked ass. Especially when the person you were dating was in a whole other country with a totally conflicting time zone. Having the times line up where you and Jay could call one another and talk for long periods of time very rarely ever lined up. It was hard, but the two of you tried your best. You texted each other at least once every day and tried to call when possible, and even posted cute little Instagram things just so you could tag one another in them. Jay saw one of these posts one day and his heart felt light with happiness. He wished he could just see you in person and finally be able to hold you and kiss you. He was about to continue scrolling when another post by you popped up, this time with another guy. It was a mirror selfie from a club of some kind. You were dressed in short shorts and a crop top and you were basically sitting in the guy’s lap. Jay felt himself becoming slightly angry at the post. Obviously you had meant to post it, there was a caption and the person was tagged, but had you meant for him to see it? He called you almost immediately, not caring if he was waking you or interrupting something. You answered on the second ring, sounding like you had been drifting off to sleep. “Jay? What’s up?” “Who is that in your latest Instagram picture?” You hummed in response, still out of it. “Didn’t I post one of the two of us?” “I meant before that.” You made another noise like you were thinking, before saying, “Oh, that’s (Y/F/N).” “Why were you sat on his lap in the picture?” “Jay, can we talk about this later? I can barley form a coherent thought right now so it feels like everything you’re saying it going over my head.” “No, I want you to tell me right now why you posted that picture with another guy.” There was some shuffling, then the sound of a light turning on. He could hear you yawn on the other end before you said, “Did you read the caption at all?” “A little.” He hadn’t. “Then you know that the picture is from years ago, before you and I even met. And that I was posting it to remember when (Y/F/N) and I met years ago in a bar when he photobombed a picture I was taking.” Jay was silent. He didn’t really know how to respond to that at all. He was starting to feel like an idiot, why didn’t he just read the caption? “I’m gonna go back to sleep,” you said, breaking the silence. “Call me at a reasonable time when you’re ready to apologize for whatever this was about.” Jay listened as you hung up, leaving him in shocked silence, feeling like a complete idiot.

~~~~~~

SWAGGERSOULS:

Despite his jokes online about his appearance, Swagger was actually pretty insecure about the way he looked. When the two of you had first started talking online, he refused to do video calls or to send you pictures for the first while because he was afraid you wouldn’t find him attractive. He build a small bit of confidence to finally start talking to you face to face and to actually meet you in person. But the insecurities regarding his looks were always there, and they led to your first fight as a couple when Swagger saw you dancing with a guy while you, the Misfits, and some of your girl friends were out together. “Why the fuck were you dancing with him?!” he called over the thumping club music. “I didn’t know I was dancing with him! I thought it was (Y/F/N)! We went out onto the dancefloor together and I thought she was still behind me. I didn’t know it was another guy until you came over.” Swagger scoffed and rolled his eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” “Nothing.” “No, tell me Swagger.” “I just have a hard time believing you didn’t know some guy was grinding up behind you and you really just thought it was your friend. Did you really think I wouldn’t see? That I wouldn’t do anything about it?” “I didn’t fucking know!” “Whatever, (Y/N). Enjoy your dancing!” He left you shocked as you watched him walk away. Your face was on fire from anger and confusion, meanwhile Swagger was downing the beer he had in his hand, hoping to forget the night entirely when he woke up the next morning.

~~~~~~

TOBYONTHETELE:

Toby prided herself on not being jealous or jumping to conclusions. She had a massive amount of trust in you, she always had. You had never given her a reason to believe otherwise. But when you started hiding your text messages from her, taking your phone with you every time you left the room instead of just leaving it there like you usually did, being vague about where you were and what you were doing, Toby couldn’t help but feel suspicious. You had never acted this way before, and she knew she shouldn’t jump to conclusions but she just couldn’t help it. All the signs pointed to one thing: you were seeing someone else. Toby worried over it for so long that she nearly made herself sick, and that’s when she finally snapped. She confronted you when you came home from one of your secret “errands” you went on. “If you’re cheating on me, just fucking break up with me and get it over with.” You were shocked. “What? Babe, I’m not cheating on you. Why would you think that?” “You’re so secretive and you hide your texts from me and your phone. You’re always so open with me, but lately you’ve been hiding something. The only logical thing is you’re seeing someone else.” You tried to hold back your laugh but it was nearly impossible. You started to giggle, which frustrated Toby even more. “Toby, I’m not seeing someone else. It’s going to ruin everything, but I was being secretive cause I was trying to plan this big surprise birthday party for you.” You laughed harder at her dumbfounded face as you hugged her and kissed her cheek. “You know I’d never cheat on you, babe. I love you too much.”

~~~~~~

ZUCKLES:

Mason loved to party. Literally everyone knew that, you included. You were more than fine with that, but what you weren’t fine with was him always leaving you alone when he went to parties. At first it was just nerve wracking considering the fact that you didn’t know anyone, but then it became downright frustrating for your boyfriend to leave your side the minute you walked through the doors of a house party or a club. It was even worst because it gave creepy drunk guys the opportunity to try and flirt with you because you were there all alone. The night that Mason finally caught some guy getting a little too close to you, you felt relief when he saved you. The relief quickly went away when Mason’s angry face turned to face you. “Who the fuck was that?” You scrunched up your nose at the stench of alcohol coming from him. “Some creep. Can we go home?” “Why was he getting close to you like that?” You scoffed. “Why are you getting so angry? He was flirting with me, not the other way around Mason.” “I don’t like finding my girlfriend getting close with some other dude when I’m not around. How many times has this happened?” You felt anger rising within you. How the fuck was he here getting angry with you when you were the one being hit on by some creep? “It’s happened nearly every time that you have left me alone when we go out, Mason. Which, newsflash, has been every time we go out! Don’t fucking stand here and get angry with me when you leave me alone for creepy drunk guys to try and hit on every time we go out! Also, the fact that you’d even think that I would hit on a guy when you’re not around is an extremely low fucking blow, Mason. I love you more than anything, I would never even think about flirting with someone else. The fact that you’re accusing me of anything right now and not listening to me is so fucking disgusting. I thought we had trust Mason!” When you started to walk away, Mason grabbed your arm. “Where are you going?” You yanked your arm free and responded, “Home! You make the decision if you trust me enough to believe me!”

#misfits #misfits imagine #goodguyfitz #inotorious #mccreamy #swaggersouls #tobyonthetele #zuckles #imagine #misfits preference #preference #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Hey. Thanks for answering my last ask. I did like Tom/Lily back at my day (lol as if I'm that old) but to be fair...any ship with Lily is better than Jilly.

One question. What you think of Hinny and Luna x Ginny? Cause nit gone lie I think Luna x Ginny has more potential than Hinny. But maybe is because I love the trope "pop falls for unpop"

... I’m not sure I’m supposed to feel as insulted as I do that I apparently barely cleared the very low bar that is Jily. 

Moving on.

I’ve given most of my thoughts on Ginny and shipping here.

Harry/Ginny

To sum up for what you’re asking though, I think Harry/Ginny is a complete disaster. Oh, Harry’s the only one she has eyes for but... it is not a good relationship.

Both of them are attracted to the idea of one another and barely seem to know who the other is.

In the case of Ginny, she tries to be someone who she thinks Harry will be attracted to. She takes note of what failed with his relationship with Cho and goes out of her way not to be that. All of her actions in the sixth book are geared towards desperately getting Harry’s attention. More, she projected this heroic persona onto Harry Potter that she never seems to see anything beneath it.

Harry for his own part... likes Ginny’s skin? His attraction to her in Halfblood Prince is one of the weirdest things I have ever read. He seems to lust after her, sort of, we get this green rage monster that throws a fit every time he sees Dean Thomas with Ginny. However, he really doesn’t know much about her and proceeds to barely spend any time with her even when they start dating. That he leaves her in Deathly Hallows is very telling, and very chilling to me. Not only is Ginny not a part of “the gang” and not invited to their club house, Harry is effectively leaving her to be taken hostage by Voldemort. This doesn’t bother him, at all, but then nothing really does.

I also think Harry’s gay (he spends a lot more time drooling after attractive men in canon then he does attractive women), he just doesn’t know it.

So, I think his and Ginny’s marriage is likely a disaster. Ginny has affairs all the time as nothing works out the way she thought it would but is too in love with the fame, the money, and the dream of being Harry Potter’s wife to ever leave. Harry’s utterly oblivious to his wife cheating on him and has to have it pointed out by James Sirius. Harry doesn’t believe him.

I’ll put it like this, their marriage is worse than Ron and Hermione’s. And that, my friend, is a low bar.

A Tangent: Ginny’s Not Popular

I’m actually going to argue that Ginny’s not at all popular. In fact, I imagine she’s actually severely disliked. Harry’s just too oblivious to notice.

So, first, Ginny is the youngest sister of the Weasley family. We see the hit this has on Ron, who has a massive inferiority complex, but we don’t see what it means to Ginny. What we can assume though, is that she’s known, and that the instant she walks into school she has a reputation that’s not necessarily good.

Percy, her brother, is that smarmy asshole prefect.

Fred and George are those assholes who constantly prank everyone. Some think this is hilarious, usually when they’re not the victims, others aren’t too keen on this.

Ron’s that guy who’s constantly getting into trouble with Harry Potter, is a known dumbass who doesn’t even have a working wand in his second year (wizards are elitist like this), and earns hundreds of house points at the end of the year for committing arson.

All of this will feed into how people perceive Ginny before even meeting her. For better or for worse, she is a Weasley, and that means people will see her a certain way.

And then Ginny has the worst first year imaginable.

She isolates herself and pours her heart and soul into a diary. Every second she’s spending talking to Tom Riddle is a second she’s not making friends. More, Ginny’s behavior becomes more and more erratic as Tom Riddle begins to possess her. She starts missing classes, acting strangely, etc.

And I think it’s damning that no one noticed.

No one is watching Ginny, no one is even around her, so if she disappears for a few hours and wakes up covered in blood in the bathroom, nobody knows. Had Tom not written a message informing the entire school that Ginny had been kidnapped, no one would have noticed, Ginny would have died down there in the chamber and it would have been days until someone, maybe, put it together.

Ginny in her first year has no friends.

And then it’s too late.

We see with Harry that people in Hogwarts form friendships fast and they rarely change. You get your clique in you first few weeks of Hogwarts, and if you’re unlucky like Hermione then it takes a few months and a troll nearly killing you to find your group, and then you stick with that group.

Ginny comes back second year, everyone already has their best friends, there’s no room for her. She tries to integrate into a group, they just give her weird looks, and more remember her as that sickly lunatic.

Because remember, that she was possessed is not known beyond a few people. It’s never publicized, and most probably think Harry or Hagrid was behind the Chamber of Secrets Fiasco II: Electric Boogaloo.

So, you get a bunch of kids who don’t want to hang out with Ginny. And, Hogwarts houses are so insular, that Ginny can’t really go and hang out with anyone else.

For all that Ginny joins the quidditch team, for all she joins the DA, I don’t think she ever really has friends. She’s just the youngest and weirdest Weasley.

And then comes her fifth year.

Ginny decides she’s going to date every guy in Hogwarts to get Harry’s attention. Now, good or bad, this is going to get Ginny a reputation, a very negative one. To the male Hogwarts population: Ginny’s an easy lay. To the female Hogwarts population: Ginny’s that bitch who will steal your boyfriend.

Halfblood Prince will not make Ginny any friends.

Ginny/Luna

It has more potential than Harry/Ginny but I personally don’t think it’s going to happen.

Like everyone else, Ginny looks down on Luna, which is a bit hilarious as per the above I don’t think Ginny’s rolling in popularity either. Luna’s weirdness is tolerated at best in a sort of, “Oh, look how cute and nuts she is, let’s pat Luna on the head.”

More, as I explained in the Ginny shipping meta linked, Ginny only has eyes for Harry and I think it would take a lot for her to look in any other direction. And to go for Looney Lovegood instead?

Part of Harry’s appeal is that he’s Wizarding Jesus, he’s important, wonderful, charming, a prince in Ginny’s eyes. Luna’s that batty girl who lives down the street and has radishes in her ears.

I just don’t see Ginny ever going for it.

As for Luna, she’s hard to get a read on, but I believe she’s fully aware of what different people think of her. She’s a very kind and generous person who overlooks this for her friends, but in a romantic partner... I think Luna is waiting for someone who truly understands her or if not that then at least truly likes her.

I don’t think that will ever be Ginny.

#ask #anon #harry potter

[whoacanada]

Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU

Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.

A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.

“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”

It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.

“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”

“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”

As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.

“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”

Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”

“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“

Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”

“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”

“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”

“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”

Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.

“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.

Five Years Later

There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.

“Hey. Hi.”

Blondie spins around at Jack’s address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. “You interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.”

The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.

“Bitty.” The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. “You can call me Bitty.”

“Oh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,” Jack gives Bitty’s arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro who’s walked into the wrong club.

“If only I had the time,” Bitty placates wryly. “Is this place new?”

“Been here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ‘new’? In town, I mean.”

“Moved for work,” Bitty’s smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. “First year. Slowly learning the area.”

Jack doesn’t miss the way Bitty’s eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesn’t mention it, and Jack isn’t in the business of prying.

“Let me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.”

“I saw that outside, do you not have a name?”

“We weren’t creative. The owner didn’t realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called ‘The Bar’.”

“That’s actually pretty solid,” Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jack’s mood easily. “I’ll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.”

“What you aren’t interested at getting sloshed before noon?”

Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize he’s got a tiny bit of a crush.

______

True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jack’s early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.

That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. It’d taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but he’s acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.

(Doesn’t hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)

Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvist’s thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittle’s pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the man’s sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jack’s heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is ‘Bitty’, and Jack can’t help but cheer louder.

________

After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasn’t in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittle’s time in Columbus.

The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.

“On the house,” Jack says, setting down the glass gently. “Choice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.”

Bitty’s grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.

“What goal?” Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jack’s immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesn’t find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. He’s used to playing this game with guys who aren’t quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasn’t had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.

“You know, I must have been mistaken.”

“Happens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.” Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. It’s the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.

“I should have known,” Jack tries to recover. “You’ve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittle’s a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. I’d like to meet him someday.”

Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bitty’s cheeks flare pink at the compliment.

About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bitty’s exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.

________

“Anything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?”

Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing he’d taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. There’s still time — his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans — but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.

“New distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. We’re working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names I’m open,” Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. “And I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.”

“No shit? Beer-league?”

“NHL.” Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father won’t misinterpret. “Started coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.”

“Well, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?”

“He’s keeping to himself,” Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the bar’s Instagram. “Don’t go hunting.”

“Well, if he needs any help you let me know.”

“What could you do?”

“I don’t know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement.” Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.

“So.”

“Mmm?”

“Does this mean you’ve got a little boyfriend, again?”

Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, it’s Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight. 

“Working on it.” Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittle’s face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. “Think I might really have a shot at something.”

“Well, you know what Wayne always says.”

“I do,” Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.”

“ — You know, I’ve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who you’ve got the hots for. You have a specific type — ”

“Papa.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“But it’s the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isn’t it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones — ”

“Goodnight, Papa.”

#bar au #jack zimmermann #NHL!Bitty #zimbits #Zimmermann #retired Jack #zimbits fic #look I wrote a thing #it's only been forever #my fic #my stuff #omgcp #check please