💅
hear me out: you’re out with your girls dancing. the dudes that take up valuable space on the dancefloor to hold their drinks and vaguely nod their heads are long gone, driven out by the fervor. A man twirls his way into your group.
He smells good and his hair is in beautifully oiled ringlets. He has the vaguely sad look of an Eastern European gay porn star. He calls you “girly” and cheers you on. You allow him to lovingly feed you a starburst that he seems to produce out of thin air, his fingers almost in your mouth. He passes you a colorful little vial, and you gratefully go to town.
This, you feel as the poppers make the blood rush to your head, is the beginning of something beautiful.
Outside, during the collective smoke break, someone jokingly refers to the group as girls and gays. “Oh,” this beautiful man says in a clear, lilting voice, “I’m not gay but I WISH I was.” Then he asks one of your friends if she wants to go home with him.
Ladies, has this happened to you? 😔💔
Apr 7, 2024
Related Recs
👯
Last year, I made a new acquaintance at a house show & learned that she DJ'd on the side! She invited me to a party that she was DJ'ing a few weeks (?) later, so I drove to the address. Apparently it was a random warehouse space in downtown Orlando. There was a huge skateboard ramp in there and t-shirt printing supplies in the back, I think? Watching her play was really fun. At one point she even hooked up a Nintendo D.S. and made a beat on one of the games!!
The parking situation downtown is confusing, so I ended up parking my car in front of the church next door while their nighttime service was going on. The parking lot was full of other cars and there was no signage for towing, so I figured it was fine. There was also a fence around the parking lot, but I didn't notice the gate until I came out of the party and found my car sitting alone there, locked inside. I called the church and the nice guy on the other end said I could pick it up in the morning, so I Uber'd home. The next day, I came to pick up my car and had to wait about half an hour for the church man to get there.
As I was standing there, wearing an outfit that was hardly goth at all, this random guy on the street told me: "I just gotta say, I love your gothic style. I ain't gonna lie, baby, you're gorgeous. I'm sure you got a girlfriend though, right? Okay, well, remember me!" Somehow he clocked me as queer and hit on me at the same time. I decided to wait indoors after that. Eventually I did get my car back, but everything that happened in those 12 hours felt so random.
Mar 25, 2025
👨
i was raised in a highly religious household where i was taught that dating was for marriage. middle school romances, then, were frowned upon and seen as fickle because they “just lead to unnecessary heartbreak“. as fucked up as this logic was, it made sense to me at the time and little me became an expert at suppressing any and all romantic urges, knowing that one day, when i was old enough, my time would come. brainwashing runs deep though, and this sense of being too young for a serious relationship never left me.
time passes, and one day i find myself at 18 years old sitting in the most romantic gazebo in a forest with this girl i felt i really liked at the time. i tell her how much i like her. she says she feels the same. my heart is pounding like never before. yet, terrified of commitment, feeling ashamed of having feelings, and having the sense that im going to have to marry this girl if things went any further, the moment came and went and we never kissed.
we end up moving away from each other. i spend my next years at college feeling heartbroken but also wracking my brain over why things never truly felt right with her. i do shrooms, my religiosity unravels, and i finally accept that im gay. internal crises ensue and i spend a good couple years “doing they work”, as they say.
flash forward to 23. i‘ve moved to the city and have my own apartment. i’ve just come out two months prior. i decide i want to start dating (big because i had never actually dated anyone, esp men). i meet someone online and we go out a few times. i’m absolutely charmed and he tells me how bad he wants to kiss me but i have to decline because i still feel like i barely know him and i don’t want to regret it. i explain my lore to give reason for my apprehension. like, the stakes are now HIGH - my brain is way too developed at this point for me to waste my first kiss on just anyone.
one evening shortly after, we’re chatting on the couch in my apartment and that pre-kiss feeling is in the air. he asks again if he can kiss me and i say yes. he leans in, does the deed, i kiss back, and we make out for close to three hours (needed to make up for 23 years of nothing). one of the best nights of my life. it took years of self-work and un-conditioning to get to that place in my life where i could experience/enjoy a moment like that and im so proud of myself for it<3
epilogue: we continued to go out but ended up doing the whole anxious/avoidant situationship dance which nearly destroyed me in the end (i still think about him every day). but we had some good times lol
Oct 17, 2024
⭐
In 2014 I went with my buddy and my girlfriend of the time (now best friend) to see Danny Brown. I hadn’t slept the night before, and we were in a bit of a low key tweaker phase, fitting for seeing the self described Adderall Admiral, and I think between me and GF we honked up easily 300mg of adderall and drank a 12 pack and a pint, before the show. The show was so fucking lit. He passed blunts around the crowd the whole time, it ripped, my heart rate was like a Venetian Snares song, I wanted to swallow the crowd with the force of my body. Later me and girlfriend had a horrendous fight that kept going on in cycles all night in the hotel room that we shared between the three of us. We were too drunk to consistently remember what it was we were fighting about, and my homegirl in the other bed had to keep getting up and running interference, deftly explaining to each of us what we as well as the other person are doing wrong, probably less out of pure kindness and more out of at least a bit of rational calculation like “if I can socially engineer the fighting out of these two fuckheads I love but can’t stand right now, I can finally sleep.” The girlfriend and I probably broke up with each other ten times throughout the night. We slept gloriously eventually and the next day in New York was beautiful and it was truly as though nothing ever happened even though three times she tried to “take a bath” in a hotel shower that was not remotely a bathtub.
Five years later I’m in grad school dating a tiny smokeshow gothy hipster nerd stripper — I don’t know how I managed it ever, really, I was bald as fuck by then and a skinnyfat overstressed drunk — but it was fabulous, we didn’t have a whole lot in common background wise or anything but it was, for a while, a sublime dynamic. The show was Tommy Wright III, and like all ratchet-chic girls, she correctly loved the horror-tinged blown out grit of Memphis style rap. It was at the spot where I met the lady, a sort of quasi-speakeasy hole in the wall club in DC that doesn’t exist anymore, but where I’d ended up, alone in a new city on Halloween when I sidled up next to the alluring aforementioned, who chided me for not wearing a costume. “I live in a closet, I don’t have costume stuff, what are you?” “I’m a slut for Halloween,” she said, wry and earnest. I invited her to my closet of an $800/month room and she stayed for four straight days, smoking weed and reading manga while I put off the mountains of grown up homework I had. Anyway, like two weeks into dating this show comes up, and she wears basically the same little red silky Nothing shirt thing and I’m in a black beret and leather jacket and jump boots. They can’t tell that I’m not *actually* Cool, I assured myself. It had been months of total isolation and School, policy and philosophy, no culture no parties. Tommy’s set was short and a blast. After the show was the more memorable part. She wanted to talk to Tommy but at the same time, I was on a mission to the ATM several blocks away to purchase cocaine for us to inhale. I get back and they’re still talking, her and Tommy Wright, the legend, with the goofy perm hair still. Apparently he’d asked if she’d go with him to his truck and smoke a blunt and she told him no, she had a boyfriend — fuck, I could have hardly blamed her if she took him up on it. But then we hung out with Tommy, mellow and normal and tired seeming. Forgot to mention her friend was there too. Tommy politely declines doing coke with us. The three of us evacuate the baggy of terrible cocaine seemingly in one instant. Girlfriend’s friend wanted to fuck us both, she whispered to girlfriend. I declined.
Not sure this answers the prompt but it scratched an itch
3d ago
Top Recs from @nunjournal
If you've ever wanted to start reading theory (or simply read more of it) but feel overwhelmed with where to begin, check out this handy dandy Google drive chock full of readings and resources. And remember that autodidacts reign supreme!
Mar 28, 2025
✍️
my predictions and manifestations, based entirely on vibes.
out:
— American work ethic
— learning French
— situationships
— low fat versions of foods
— slur discourse
in:
— siesta
— herbed yogurt
— working hardest in the morning and leaving the evening for leisure
— writing postcards to your long-distance friends, exclusively in cursive (if you weren’t taught to write in cursive, the time to learn will be now)
— big boobs (cultural Catholicism will prevail again baby)
May 3, 2024
🦟
this is the summer of treating mosquito bites as mere affirmations of your desirability 🩸
May 20, 2024