#YOU’RE COMPARING A 8 MONTH GAP TO OVER 6 FUCKING YEARS?1?1?1

[quiverpaw]

there is NO WAY PEOPLE ARE COMPARING TIGERDOVE TO SPOTTEDTHISTLE

[mrsluttystark]

Repeat After Me

Tony was growing tired of his life, the never ending routine he’d tied himself down to.  Even with a fiancee, a stable job, and a comfortable life, there was hardly a time where he didn’t think about the past to escape the present.  He could never have guessed a simple friend request and a pretty Peter Parker would be his undoing as well as his sanctuary. 18+

Part 1 | Part 2

Tags: nff, age difference, former teacher/student

Word count: 3.1k

Read below the cut

Peter hadn’t been on Facebook in years...technically.  Maybe every so often just to update his profile picture so people knew he didn’t still look like a 15 year old with a face riddled with baby fat.  Sure, he could just delete his account, but he’ll admit he likes knowing what his high school classmates are up to.  It was interesting to see how some people he’s known since elementary school turned out now that they were all college graduates.  He’s never interacted in those times, just lurked and scrolled for a few minutes before he came across a corny meme or a factually incorrect post that looks like it was screenshotted a million times and had to exit.

He was extra bored tonight, though.  Peter tried not to think about how quiet it was now that he lived in his own apartment.  Aunt May had moved in with her boyfriend after Peter graduated and landed a job at Oscorp. It came with a starting bonus and a large paycheck that allowed Peter to live comfortably on his own while he worked in the R & D department. A compromise made with Norman Osborn instead of selling him the rights to the web fluid he created in college.  Peter wanted to continue to develop it front and center; find every possible application for it. So much so, that he didn’t get to go out much. Ned was in DC at his NASA internship, living out his “guy in a chair” dreams.  MJ was somewhere in Asia, backpacking with her girlfriend.  The friends he made at Columbia went their separate ways.

So this was his life now. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep. Alone.

After getting home from work around 6 pm, Peter went for an hour long run, ate dinner, and showered.  8 pm found him sitting on his living room sofa, flipping aimlessly between different streaming services unable to find anything interesting to watch.  He went through Instagram, Twitter, and even Tumblr a few times before the last “you’re all caught up!” notification popped up on his phone. So, with a heavy sigh, he propped two pillows against the wall for him to lean on, flopped down on his bed, and opened Facebook.

The first post Peter saw was a life event update from Flash Thompson, his high school nuisance, (“bully” would be giving him too much credit) “In a Relationship with Brad Davis”. Peter huffed out a breath, not really surprised with how much Flash used to tease him about being openly bisexual. Penis Parker. How original.

A memory appeared at the top of his feed from 7 years ago, today.  It was a picture of him and Ned when they finished building his Lego Death Star.  Peter smiled at that, Ned was holding it above his head with a beaming smile plastered on his face.  His younger self had both scrawny arms thrown in the air looking triumphant as ever, curls unruly, and rectangular metal glasses falling halfway down his nose.

Peter was glad he filled out a bit since he was 15 and traded in wearing glasses daily for contacts.  His curls were still nice and floppy, the tips of them tickling his ears, but he liked it that way.  Plus, he could tame them when he wanted to.

He scrolled for a while longer, watched a few videos of cats being adorable assholes and one-pot recipes, went on Marketplace to see what people in his area were selling.  He even went through his old pictures and deleted the incredibly embarrassing ones, and updated his profile picture to his most recent selfie.  

This Facebook arc was coming to a quick end, he could feel the boredom seeping back in. He looked to his right, the bright red digital numbers on his clock read 10:05 pm. Good enough.  He can turn in for the night without feeling inept.

Thumb poised, ready to swipe the App closed, his eyes caught on a name in the “People You May Know” section.  Tony Stark. As in, Mr. Stark, his Sophomore Chemistry teacher. AKA his most inappropriate high school crush.  Despite being alone, Peter could feel the tips of his ears heat up.

Wow, he hadn’t thought of Mr. Stark in years.

Alright, that’s not true.  Peter thinks about him every time he wonders why he has an affinity for older men. Besides the point, he’s taken back to Midtown, sitting front row, head balanced on his palm watching dreamily as Mr. Stark explained how atoms and molecules join together through ionic and covalent bonding (which Peter already knew, so it was fine that he was zoning out).  The man’s voice was like honey, words oozing smooth and sweet, rumbling deeply in his chest.  Peter remembers every time he caught his eye while he scanned the room during lectures.  Mr. Stark was 30 then, it was his first year teaching, and a 15 year age gap seemed like a canyon.  

Peter tapped on his name to go to his profile so he can get a better look at his picture. His heart was racing, despite a few sporadic grey hairs at his temples, some crows feet wrinkling at the corner of his eyes, and deeper smile lines, he looked the absolute same.  Fucking hot. If anything, all those things made him look even sexier.  Licking his lips, Peter tried to go through his profile to see more photos of the man, unfortunately he had a lot of his privacy settings on so there wasn’t much to see but his last profile picture update and location.  He still lived in New York, so that was a plus, but Peter wanted - needed to see more.

His thumb hovered over the Add Friend button.  It wouldn’t be weird, would it? He was Facebook friends with other teachers from Midtown.  He graduated over four years ago, and he wasn’t a lovesick kid with a school boy crush anymore.  Fuck it, right? The worst he can do is deny the friend request.

Tap.

“Add Friend” turned into “Cancel Request”, and Peter blew out a large breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Alright, Peter.  Time to turn in. He said to himself as he threw his phone onto his bed and got up to brush his teeth.  No use waiting around, he wasn’t going to accept it tonight or any time soon for that matter.  When he got back from the bathroom, he didn’t even bother looking at his phone.  He plugged it in, placed it face down on his nightstand, and drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, the man’s phone lit up with a Facebook notification, unbeknownst to a slumbering Peter Parker.

-

Tony’s daily routine had been rather monotonous lately, to say the least.  Since he’d made his way up the proverbial ladder of life and moved on from being a teacher to becoming a senior engineer at a major tech conglomerate, you’d think his day-to-day life of overseeing technical advancement projects wouldn’t be so boring.

The paycheck was substantially bigger than when he was a high school teacher and the amount of technology he had access to was more than the idle body walking the street could ever dream of, but…he missed teaching.  He missed the kids.  The pure unadulterated joy they displayed whenever Tony praised them on their science projects.  He watched over brilliant men and women every day but nothing compared to the ambition of those kids.  

Tony often found himself dreading going to work each day, and coming home to an empty house and take-out food his fiancée left for him that night.

Pepper was a great woman.  Fierce and reliable.  She was there when Tony’s parents died.  She even stuck through all the years of Tony trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life. So, naturally, Tony proposed to her when he graduated from college. As a “thank you” and as a promise.  That once he had enough money he would make an honest woman out of her.  Of course, she already was an honest woman.   It was Tony who needed the support, she was all he had left besides Rhodey, but he decided to join the Air Force and shipped off right after graduation.  Tony sees him every couple of months, if even that.

She has had all these years to focus on her own career as well while Tony worked menial jobs and then became a teacher.  When Tony finally got the Mechanical Engineer job, she was so relieved to not have to be the only one taking care of the bills.  Though she never said it, Tony knew. Pepper is the head of HR at Oscorp as well as Norman Osborn’s personal assistant.  Operating at the same routine for seven years now and she doesn’t seem to be bored, but that’s Pepper - reliable.

It’s been nine years since Tony asked her to marry him, and he’s been financially capable of paying for an adequate wedding for two of them.  The truth is, Pepper has become a part of the monotony that Tony is so tired of.

Tony opened the door to their apartment, the main hall light illuminating the dark wood flooring and the entry table he tossed his keys down on. Toeing off his shoes, he could already smell the Thai food Pepper had eaten and left for him.  He flipped the lights on and made his way to the kitchen, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons in the process.  Rounding the large white marble island at the center, Tony reached into the bottom cabinet, pulled out a bottle of scotch, and poured himself a finger before throwing the left-overs in the microwave to heat up.  

A little white card with Pepper’s uniform handwriting sat on the table next to the take-out bag: Emergency at work. Don’t wait up. Love you, Pep x.  Tony took a sip of his drink, unaffected, it’s been happening more as of late with Oscorp’s new launch around the corner.

“JARVIS, could ya turn on the TV for me? Oh, and heat up my food.” Tony spoke into the open space.  He’d been working on his own Artificial Intelligence software in his spare time and recently implemented it-him into their apartment’s security and electrical.  Pepper was wary at first, seeing Tony put up cameras in every single room. Even the bathroom, Tony?  He assured her that it was unhackable, bet it on his life.

“Certainly, sir.”  A disembodied british voice replied.  Sure enough, the TV powered on and the microwave came to life.  

“Thanks, J.”  Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of himself.  He’d been drawing up the specs for JARVIS since he was in high school, now he finally had the means to develop him.

When the microwave turned off, Tony gathered up his plate and went to sit on the black leather sectional in the living room.  Shoveling a mouth full of pad thai with his chopsticks, he kicked up his feet to rest them on the ottoman in front of him. He very well knows he could just pull out his phone and look, but he wanted to give JARVIS a little workout.

“Got anything new for me?”

“An email from Mr. Justin Hammer about a job offer, would you like me to read it aloud to you, sir?” Tony waved his hand dismissively with a sour expression.  Justin Hammer, a sad excuse for a tech mogul, cutting corners for a bigger pay off.

“Delete it, will ya?”

As Tony scrapes the rest of his plate clean, he rises off the couch and stretches his arms and body.  The pain in his lower back calls for a hot shower to soothe his aching muscles.  Earlier today he’d been bent over his lab table working on an advanced prosthesis that can form to any amputee with ease and give them full range of motion like it was theirs, not just a placeholder.  He was grateful his employer seemed to actually care about the greater good.

Tony went to pour himself another finger before retreating to the bedroom to take that shower his body was craving.  He undressed slowly, watching himself in the full length mirror opposite the foot of his California King bed. The tie went first, falling lightly to the carpeted floor.  He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket along with his slacks.  Olive skin pulled taut against the small yet defined muscles of his stomach, chest, and arms littered with various burns and scars from working with robotics and chemicals.  

Tony definitely wasn’t 21 anymore but he knew he looked good for 37. He could only thank his genes for that and the still full head of hair despite his greying temples that he never bothered to dye.

“JARVIS, shower?” He heard the water splash against the tile of the shower floor and waited until he could see the steam bellow out into the hall to down the rest of his glass and make his way to the bathroom.

The hot spray connecting with his cool skin made him jump a little until he got used to the heat enough to relax.  The buzz he was feeling from the scotch aiding the water in loosening his muscles.  After washing his hair, Tony decided to stand beneath the spray for a while longer, reveling in the gentle caress of the water.

He then grabbed his mesh loofah ball, poured some body wash on it, and started scrubbing his body.  Washing away the trials and tribulations of the day, along with some oil and grease.  He worked over his arms, chest, and back.  Bent over to wash his legs and feet, then dragged the loofah over his ass and stomach before he lightly grazed his cock, making it twitch in response.

God, he was so wound up, he and Pepper hadn’t had sex in over two months.  Always so busy, always just missing each other.  When they did happen to be home at the same time, they were too tired to do anything.

He wrapped a soapy hand around his shaft and stroked lazily to work himself to full hardness, which didn’t take very long.  Tony tried thinking about Pepper but he couldn’t quite imagine her face and her body, the scotch must be making his mind hazy.  He chuckled softly at the thought, not even believing it himself.

Searching through his brain for something to get him there, Tony grunted in annoyance that nothing was coming to him.  

He thought harder, until a body started to form in his mind.  Smooth pale skin over a lithe, hard body.  The V at the bottom of the abdomen pointing to a skinny dick with a pretty pink head.  Tony had a fondness toward pretty twinks in college, the one he was imagining mirrored the ones he fucked before he met Pepper.

His hand began stroking faster as his thoughts got more detailed.  In his mind, he stretched the young man open with his fingers before seating his newly opened hole on Tony’s larger, thicker cock.  He braced himself with one arm against the shower wall while his other hand tightened around his shaft.  Hunched over, eyes closed, he saw a pert little ass bouncing up and down, swallowing every inch of him.  He moaned loudly, keenly aware that he was home alone, imagining high whimpers and whines thrumming in his ears as the boy in his mind came.  Tony came in spurts down the drain soon after with a choked off groan.

Rinsing himself again, he got out of the shower, quickly toweled off his body and hair before wrapping it around his waist and making his way out into the bedroom once again.  His body definitely felt looser than it had been when he arrived home from work.  Pulling out another of the same bottle of scotch from the small bar cart he had in his room, he poured himself another drink.

“Have a good shower, sir?”  If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d think JARVIS was taunting him.

Tony scowled and raised an eyebrow at the ceiling.

“I don’t remember programming you to be nosy.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Actually, sir. You designed me to do exactly that.”

“Or to give me lip.” No response.

“You did receive a new notification in your absence.  Would you like to know what it is?” He took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, sure.”

“You received a Facebook friend request from a Mr. Peter Parker.”

Peter Parker? Why did that seem familiar?

“Throw it up on the screen for me, J.”  The flatscreen lit up, displaying Peter’s profile.

The first thing Tony noticed was the sharp, angular jawline coupled with high cheekbones.  A stark contrast to the delicate chestnut curls pushed back into a nice cowlick wave.  His smile was bright, pure, and genuine, like the photo had been snapped right as he finished laughing.

It wasn’t until Tony looked at his eyes did he realize who this was.  The soft brown eyes were identical to a lanky teenage boy that sat in the front row of his Chemistry class when he taught at Midtown High.  Even behind his wiry glasses back then, Tony could tell that his eyes radiated a wholesome energy - just like they did now.  That had been...what? Seven years ago?  Peter was one of his most brilliant students.  Hardly paid attention in class but knew the material like the back of his hand.

Tony almost felt guilty about finding him attractive. Almost.

He accepted the request without another thought.  Peter would be 22 by now, nothing weird about that, right?  He scrolled through his basic info.  Still lives in New York.  Graduated from Columbia.  Single.  Interested in men and women.  He doesn’t ever really post anything, then again neither did Tony.  The only things on his page were happy birthday posts and tagged photos from his Aunt May.  Tony remembered parent/teacher conferences with her, he guessed being smokin�� hot ran in the family.

Tony couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about potentially lusting over this kid.  He’d always been faithful to Pepper, but something was missing.  Tony craved excitement and some inkling of control over his life.  Besides, he could look, as long as he didn’t touch.  This is just a Facebook friendship after all.

He pulled the Facebook app up on his phone and tapped on the “Message” icon.  When the screen pulled up the chat box, Tony gulped down the rest of his scotch, feeling just on the right side of drunk, and typed out two words.

Hey, Kid.

-

tags: @sweetqueen449, @slut-for-starker, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerhowlter, @sthefystarkersworld, @crazycocococonut, @bris-sins, @delicateavenuenacho, @problemchildnoonewanted (I’ll def be implementing some of your points in future chapters!)

[storiesbymads]

SHE’S A WORKING GIRL NOW ¹ ( the internship . )

Y/N just got an internship at her childhood best friend’s brother’s company. The same brother who has no idea they’ve even met before.

general warnings: smut, age gap (about 8 years), angst

add yourself to the taglist + series masterlist

You had known JJ Maybank since the first day of first grade. Funny how a teacher’s random seating chart had affected pretty much your whole life. If it hadn't been for said seating chart, you were absolutely, 100% sure that your life would’ve been on a completely different course than the one it was on now. 

JJ had been your absolute best friend for as long as you could remember. Hell, for most of your life the two of you had shared everything--including a birthday party since your birthdays were three days apart. He had been there for every scraped knee, every failed test, every breakup. The two of you graduated high school attached at the hip and started college the same way that fall. 

By the time junior year rolled around, you had both moved into a small apartment on the far side of town which, thankfully, meant no more student housing for either of you. Dorm life had been hell for you. Your roommate never seemed to fail at bringing someone new home every Friday night and would often kick you out leaving you to fend for yourself in the hallway. In all actuality, you stomped over to JJ’s dorm downstairs with your duvet wrapped around your shoulders and a scowl on your face when 2am rolled around and she still wasn’t done. 

“Good morning to you to sunshine,” he would say after you vigorously knocked on the tacky, brick colored door. You would simply push past him into the room and throw yourself onto his twin bed while his own roommate remained fast asleep. Aaron--you ended up learning his name about six months after you started regularly crashing in their dorm-- was one of the loudest snorers you think you’d ever met but at least you had a bed. 

“We’re so moving into our own place next year,” you would say as he shuffled into the bed, his feet situated where your head was and vice versa. Of course, it took you both another whole year to actually accomplish this dream but, somehow, you managed it. 

Now, it was the summer before what was supposed to be your senior year--JJ was sure he wasn’t going to be graduating this year due to the fact that he’d failed more than a couple classes and you already knew you were going stay here as long as he was--and you were days away from starting an internship at Maybank Industries. 

When you had originally applied for the internship, you had no idea it was JJ’s older brother who ran the company. You both thought it was just some funny coincidence. The fact that it was called Maybank Industries was what made JJ so adamant on you applying in the first place. Now, less than a week before your first day, you were forced to come to terms with the fact that you’d be working under the same Jesse Maybank you’d known since grade school. 

Jesse had been in high school by the time you and JJ had really gotten close. He’d already seemingly maxed out his height at 6’4 and his blond hair was shaggy and often stuck to his forehead when he got home lacrosse practice. He was the first boy you’d ever had a crush on. The 8 year age gap didn’t really phase second grade you. 

“I’m going to shoot myself on Monday. My sleep schedule is so fucked,” you groaned as you shuffled out of your bedroom to see JJ sprawled out on the love seat in your living room with a half eaten bowl of Frosted Flakes on the coffee table in front of him. You squinted as you read the digital clock on the microwave. 1:17 blinked back at you in bright red numerals. 

“Morning, sunshine,” JJ said. You didn’t know how or when it had happened but he had managed to develop healthier sleeping habits than you. Waking up before noon sounded like hell to you and he’d done it three times this week. 

“Fuck off,” you said, moving his feet so that you could sit down before setting them back on your lap. He grabbed the bowl of soggy cereal and took a bite. A shudder ran through your body as you faked a gag. 

“Oh don’t be like that. It’s not my fault I don’t shovel my Frosted Flakes down my throat at hyper speed,” he said before setting it back down. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this argument and you were sure it wasn’t going to be the last. 

“It’s how they’re supposed to be consumed. It should be considered a war crime to let them get all…” another fake gag. “Soggy.”

“Whatever. You’re just jealous because I’m able to retain the quality crunch the entire time,” you said. You focused your gaze on the small flat screen mounted to the wall to see that JJ had put on some crime drama. Probably Law & Order. 

“So, who’s the killer?” you asked after a few moments of silence passed. The rest of the day passed like this; you and JJ managed to get through 6 episodes of SVU before you decided it was probably time to get up and do something productive. And by something productive you meant get dressed enough and go out to grab take out. 

By the time your Monday morning alarm rolled around, you realized you should have attempted to regulate your sleep schedule a hell of a lot sooner than two nights before you were forced to get up at 5am. You flicked on your overhead light with a groan before starting your morning routine--well, some semblance of a morning routine since you really hadn’t done one since school ended. 

The drive to Downtown Chapel Hill wasn’t long. Well, it shouldn’t have been long but for some reason it felt like everyone and their mother was out on the interstate this morning. You were just desperately hoping you weren’t late on your first day as you tried to push your car past 25 mph. 

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to Jesse as you found yourself in a standstill on the roadway once again. You knew he wasn’t going to look like the boy you remembered but deep down you wish he was. Nothing could ever replace the 19 year old boy in your mind with his crystalline blue eyes and a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees.

A horn sounded behind you, pulling you from your day dream, “Fuck, sorry!”

At least you were going the posted speed limit now. 

By the time you saw the Maybank Industries building coming into view, you were ten minutes away from being on time, eleven from being late. You could feel your anxiety rising in the back of your throat as you glanced back and forth from the road to the digital clock in your car. 

“Mr. Maybank?” you asked tentatively through the frosted glass of his office door fifteen minutes later. You couldn’t help but picture that 19 year old opening the door and pulling you into a hug. That was if he even remembered you enough to pull you into a hug. And if he wasn’t pissed about his new intern being late. 

“Come in,” he said. Wow, his voice was a lot deeper than you remember it being. And raspier. 

You took in his whole office as you pushed open the door. The first thing you noticed was the gold plated nameplate with ‘Jesse Maybank’ engraved in bold letters with ‘CEO Maybank Industries’ in a finer print beneath it. Next you took in the view of downtown Chapel Hill out of the floor to ceiling windows behind his desk. 

“Good Morning,” you said in a shaky voice. Sure, he’d been good looking when he left for college all those years ago but nothing could compare to how he looked right now. His shoulders had broadened significantly since he was nineteen and he filled out the white dress shirt he had rolled up to his elbows nicely. You were sure that if you hadn’t been leaning up against the door frame your knees would’ve caved in by now. 

He hummed as he looked up from his laptop, finally making eye contact with you, “You must be my new intern.”

“Yes,” you nodded as you shifted your weight onto your other foot. He raised his eyebrows slightly, standing up to walk around the wooden desk and lean against the front of it. You couldn’t help but watch the sleeves of his shirt bulge slightly as he crossed his arms. “Oh, right. I’m Y/N.”

“You seem nervous, Y/N…” he trailed off, obviously expecting a continuation of your name. Surely, he hadn’t forgotten about you completely. You knew you looked different than when you were eleven but the name alone should’ve sparked something. 

“Y/L,” you said. At least now you could tell JJ you hadn’t been accepted in his brother’s internship program just because you were his best friend. 

“Well, Miss Y/L/C,” he said. “There’s a stack of files on my desk that need to be sorted by lunch today.”

“O-Okay,” you stuttered, slowly pulling yourself off the door frame to pick up the files. You mentally cursed yourself for choosing to wear the tallest heels in your closet this morning. At least they made your legs look good. 

“I expect them on my desk before you leave,” he said. You were praising God and anyone else that was up there that you made it back to the door without tripping. 

“Yes sir,” you said as you struggled to close the door with the stack of files in your arms. You watched his frame through the frosted glass shuffle around his desk to sit down again. How the fuck were you going to make it through the summer if your heart almost fell out of your ass after one conversation?

The rest of the day passed by interminably slowly. The rest of the interns who had seemingly been at the company for a few years at this point--you didn’t understand why they chose to intern at the same company every summer if they never seemed to get a job out of it--and you felt incredibly out of the loop already. One of the interns, though, was kind enough to bring you a cup of coffee an hour or so after you had gotten there. Scout--you were sure you would forget her name in twenty minutes but she’d been nice enough to introduce herself--had apparently been with the company for the past three years with hope to become a paid intern come next month. 

“Thank you. I really needed this,” you had said with a smile. She waved it off with a smile of her own before getting situated at her desk across the small room. 

Other than that, though, the day had been boring to say the least. You didn’t know what you were expecting with this internship but sitting at a desk in an office with three other interns doing seemingly nothing for most of the day was not it. After you finished everything you’d needed to do with the files--with a lot a bit of help from the boy sitting next to you--you were forced to just sit at your desk and look like you were doing something productive. 

You only had about an hour left in the work day but the coffee Scout had brought you that morning had worn off way past the point of you just being a little sleepy. Another small cup wouldn’t hurt anything. Especially since you’d caught yourself nodding off at your desk three times already. You pushed yourself up from the semi-comfortable desk chair to go look for the break room. 

Thankfully, it was only a few doors down from the office you’d been working in all day and the door had been propped open with a door jamb. It only took you a second to realize Jesse was also in the small room. He was leaned up against one of the counter tops, stirring what you guessed was coffee in a stark white mug. 

“Looks like you had the same idea as me,” you said softly, picking up a matching mug off the tray as well as one of the many Keurig pods next to it. 

“Great minds think alike.” He lifted his mug in greeting before dropping the spoon into the sink. The low ceiling of the kitchen made him look even taller than usual. 

It was silent for a few moments while your cup brewed in the machine. You fiddled with your thumbs to pass the time. It didn’t help that you could feel Jesse’s eyes on you the whole time. You didn’t know why he was still in the room, to be honest. 

“You know,” he cleared his throat. “I can see your… uh…” 

“My what?” you asked, dropping your hands and looking down your body. You were sure you’d worn the right bra this morning. You’d even gotten JJ to check before you walked out the door. 

“Your garter belt,” he said. Sure enough, you glanced down at your pencil skirt which was hiked up to your mid thigh, a good two inches of the garter belt on your right leg on display. A rush of embarrassment flooded over you as you turned around, tugging the skirt down your legs. 

“I’m so sorry, sir. Won’t happen again,” you sputtered out as you attempted to busy yourself with the tray of mugs. It would only be a few more seconds before your coffee finished and you’d be able to run back to your office. 

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. You felt your chest tighten at the sound. He exhaled slightly before you heard the rustling of him moving around behind you. You suddenly became hyper aware of just how narrow the kitchen was. His hand was pressed against your waist as he shuffled past you. The size of his hand made sense, he was an incredibly large man, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that the width of his hand spanning half of your torso sent shivers down your spine. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, sir?” you asked once he was fully out the door. He made a half-turn in the door frame, giving you a two finger salute in response. 

“See you in the morning, Miss Y/L/N,” he said. You muttered something incoherent as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shaking your head, you grabbed the coffee that had been finished brewing for a solid minute before making your way back to your office. 

tagging: @ptersparkers​ @digniteas​ @kiarascarreras​ @letsgofullkook​ @kirikaelak​ @haute-shawn​ @obx-baby​ @httpstarkey​ @x-lulu​ @obbx-tings​ @poguestyleskye​ @erraaxh​ @sunwardsss​ @katrynec​

[nofacenocaseblog]

𝗡𝗢 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗡𝗢 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗘 - 𝗗𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 2: Marseille: the New French Connection

“Arrive déjà la 4ème identité Marseillaise” (1)

More than 2600 years ago, Greeks founded Marseille (then Massalia).  Since then, immigration has been the backbone of the city. Here, the term melting pot takes its real meaning.  Throughout the centuries, Greeks , Italians, Armenians, Algerians, Tunisians, Moroccans, Comorians...called it home.  Here you’re “Marseillais” before being “Français”.  

Born and bread in Marseille (in 1981), I saw the city getting divided before my eyes.  By the end of the 70’s, the french government parked an entire generation of immigrants from the Maghreb (who help rebuild France after WW2 and fought FOR France during the Algerian independence war) in an endless sea of buildings on the outskirt of Marseille (in)famously known as “Les Quartiers Nords”. Those white concrete structures were built in the mid 60’s, when “Corbusian” (2) architects applied their utopian visions on people’s lives.  The result: drugs, poverty, alienation, isolation, anger… Rage!

I left Marseille in 2004 to move to New York.  Back then, the gap between white “french” people and the 2nd generation of immigrant (100% French but some people tend to forget) was already increasing, the city was fractured.  

The French Connection

Once upon a time, Marseille was the mecca when it came to the processing and exportation of heroin.  Everybody remembers the French Connection: a 30-year heroin operation between Marseille and the US. A traffic worth more than $40 millions a year back then.  Orchestrated by Lucky Luciano, the French Connection provided up to 80% of the US heroin consumption during the 60’s / 70’s.  The morphine base from Turkey and Asia was shipped to the Marseille harbor, unloaded on the docks and processed in one of the many clandestine laboratories hidden in the Provence’s countryside to be transformed in the purest heroin ever manufactured (off medical diamorphine): La Marseillaise, as they called it, was 98% pure.

The network was dismantled, and after the 90’s pick, the heroin disappeared from the streets of Marseille (but this is another story...).  Today, the few die-hard junkies remaining shoot up Subotex (3) with benzos to “spice it up”… a deadly cocktail. But another traffic emerged: Cannabis and Cocaine.

“Ici on est à Marseille mon frère, Sortis tout droit du conteneur Le produit qui t’met à l'envers”(4)

Here cannabis is embedded in our culture, quality is high and price low.  Good Cocaine, on the other hand, was hard to come by, but now you can get dime bag of high purity cocaine quite easily.  Without the presence of organized crime (”le milieu”, as they call it here knew his golden age with the French connection but was dismantled by the early 2000), the city was left in the hands of gangsters (called “bandits” in Marseille) fighting each other to death in a turf war that caused 34 homicides in 2016 (5).  A heaven you’ll say compare to the 786 homicides the same year in Chicago, but in a country where firearms are illegal, it gave Marseille the title of “France Murder Capital” and the mainstream media did what they do best: spread the fear, pointing the finger to the common enemy:  “Les banlieues” (Ghetto in French) and their inhabitants… The dialogue was broken and the city split in two, the North and its “bandits” versus the South with La Canebiere (Marseille most famous street in the city center) as “unofficial” border.

“Rick James said cocaine's a hell of a drug Who else could put the hipsters with felons and thugs And paint a perfect picture of what sellin' it does? This is for the critics, who doubted the chemistry Two different worlds, same symmetry” (6)

I used to come back to my hometown once or twice a year for few days, a couple of weeks at the most. In 2019, I decided to stay over a month. The homicide number that year dropped to 9, I went to the “allegedly” worst ghettos in town: La Busserine, Les Oliviers, Brassens, La Castellane etc… Les Quartiers Nords.

Where no there was no illegal activities , everything was quiet and relax, not once my wife and I felt “in danger”.  Where drugs were being sold, everything was even more quiet… Don’t forget, murder and violence is bad for business... and business, in Marseille, is good: at La Busserine alone, the sales of cannabis and cocaine add up to 15,000€/day during the week and up to 25,000€ on weekends with over 500 clients daily.  The narcotics sale amounts to 70 millions €/year in Marseille (7), spent and laundered (re-invested) in the city.  After some violent years, violence went down and sales went up.

Like any other ghetto, you’ll find here the usual set up: look-out kids (called Chouf, in Marseille slang, translates “look” in arabic) “chilling” on the side of the  road and on top of buildings , hidden stashes in apartments, empty lots and  garages, dozens of "read-to-sell” bags concealed in pipes and cars’ bumpers, ‘menu’ openly written on wall, obvious selling points (yet distant from the main hang-out spot where kids are playing) and a clientele in and out in less than a minute.

A Les Oliviers, the line of customers almost goes around the block on Saturday nights.  Security is insured by the local “muscles” to avoid any “dispute”. Kids from the neighborhood point customers to the right building and tell them where to park their car.  The operation is seamless.  People are lining up, waiting to buy some hash or weed, a bag of coke for the evening, some K and possibly a couple of ecstasies and MDMA. Choice is broad at Les Olivers, one of the most profitable “cites” (another name for ghetto in France) in town with La Busserine (where the choice is lesser but the quality higher). 

Nothing exceptional you’ll say, just another drug traffic… but look closer and you’ll see something I’ve never witnessed in 25 years living in Marseille (and spending lots of time in those “ghetto” as I was boxing in one of their local gym):

I saw white kids hanging out in the "hood” -to buy drugs, I know... but still- with no fear, feeling welcome,  joking with locals, even getting drinks at the corner bistro. 

Something unthinkable 10 years ago. Something hidden by the media. Something politicians don’t want you to know, to not lose the “fear of the other” they spent so much time to insinuate in our heads. 

Let the people believe that only dirty, nasty junkies are going to those dangerous places to buy their dose of dope, whereas it’s their sons, daughters or even colleagues, who are going to get their weed, some pills and maybe a beer before going back to the “right side of the track” to hang out in the trendy and cool bars and restaurants of the “Corniche” and “La Pointe Rouge”

The French Connection is still alive but deeply changed in nature… french people are now actually connected.  They’re bounding around something they have in common: drugs. Good or bad, I’m not here to judge, all I know is that as long as there is demand, there will be offer…

In one of the the countries in Europe with the toughest laws on narcotics, French politicians keep on playing Sisyphus (8) with their “war on drugs”…Decriminalization and comprehension healthcare solutions remains the only efficient -and proven- solution to fight drugs… 

In the meantime, in the South of France, the new generation is getting together and making its own New French Connection.

============

NOTES

(1) Translate: “Already here, the 4th identity from Marseille” Kenny Arkana refereeing to the 4th generation of MCs but also the 4th generation born in France from immigrant descend (2)  Le Corbusier philosophy : his vision for residential architecture included a great deal of services, business and activities to have the building self-sufficient and sustainable. He dreamed of "cleaning and purging" the city, bringing "a calm and powerful architecture"—referring to steel, plate glass, and reinforced concrete... This utopian vision has then been applied to low income building ending up in the creation of actual ghettos. (3) Subotex is the brand name for buprenorphine, a drug used to get off heroin (like methadone, yet completely different in its use). If shot, it will get you high, add benzodiazepines such as Xanax or Rivotril (Marseille’s favorite) and you risk the cardiac arrest as it greatly slows down your heartbeat. (4) Translate: “Straight outta the container, the product that’ll fuck your brain up” Fonky Family - Le Retour du Shit Squat (5) https://www.20minutes.fr/marseille/1988379-20170102-marseille-34-tues-balles-lors-reglements-compte-2016-inexact-repond-prefet-police (6) Pusha T - Trouble On My Mind (7) From the show “L’heure des Pros” sur France on August 28th 2020 (8) In Greek mythology Sisyphus or Sisyphos was the king of Ephyra. He was punished by being forced to roll an immense boulder up a hill only for it to roll down every time it neared the top, repeating this action for eternity. 

[vote-for-eggman]

#Manuary Masterpost: Why I support Manuary.

I’ve already seen the hate for Manuary, and I’m already over it. Also, if you use Manuary to shit on women, you’re awful. Below, there may be some moments where it appears I am, but I am only dispelling myths about both men and women. 

For those of you who are unaware, Manuary is a little trend going around in support for Men’s Rights/Issues and the like. Think of it like Movember but broader.

Manuary is not for exclusively one group/ideology. If you don’t like a certain group is celebrating Manuary, be the change you wish to see. I don’t care whether you are MRA, MGTOW, Feminist, Anti-Feminist, Egalitarian, etc. If you care about Men’s Issues, please do your part in supporting Manuary.

Manuary is, to me, mainly about men’s rights. I know people do “male positivity” posts, and good on them, but I tend to feel a bit infantilized with male positivity posts. I’m going to be staying away from those below.

I’m also going to try and keep my “antifeminist” views out of this, but unfortunately many of these myths are perpetuated by feminists and many of the people against Manuary are feminists. I am not trying to take the piss out of feminism or women with this, and I’m going to make effort to stick as closely to facts without providing bias as I can. Nor am I trying to blame women over men in ANY way. 

I will freely say that I do let it slip in there a few times but my position towards feminism doesn’t shake the sources I provide. So, I ask you keep an open mind towards this if you are against Manuary or just unsure of whether or not to care or, hell, if you don’t even know what it is.

Myths About Men and Men’s Rights:

Myth Number 1:

Male abuse rates are nowhere close to female abuse rates. Men are more likely to be domestic abusers.

This, to put it bluntly, is false. This finds that women and men are equally as likely to commit domestic violence, average together roughly 200 studies. Keep in mind, if you look at the table provided, it is only twelve examples. “Equal” is used loosely, however.

Another, posted on The Guardian, finds that over 40% of Domestic Violence Victims are male. Definitely close to equal rates.

Women are actually 70% of all perpetrators of domestic violence within NONRECIPROCAL abusive relationships (i.e. where only one partner is violent). This number is accounting for both lesbian and heterosexual relationships. Even where the violence was reciprocal, men were slightly more likely to be injured compared to women’s rates in one-sided abusive cases.

Despite these numbers, there are next to no male-exclusive violence shelters in America. In fact, the first only opened THIS YEAR. In Canada, someone opened a Men’s Shelter but received MASSIVE backlash by some... frankly awful feminists. It was shut down due to lack of funding, more than likely because of the negative feedback it was receiving. More reading on this here.

And when men do call the police for assistance? Many get arrested themselves while their abuser is not!

“The men in the survey who called the police found them to be “very helpful” in only 19% of cases, and “not at all helpful” in 50% of cases. More importantly, when an abused man called the police, the police were more likely to arrest him than to arrest his abusive female partner. The men who called the police were arrested in 26% of cases, whereas their abusive partners were arrested in only 17%. Half the time the police arrested nobody, despite the abuse, and in 8% of the cases they arrested both the abuser and the victim. In those cases where the police did identify the abused man’s female partner as the aggressor, in 29% of cases, they refused to arrest the abusive woman. In 39% of these cases they said that there was nothing they could do and left.”

Found here

Lastly, the Duluth Model, what is pushed to follow when comes to domestic abuse, blames men and is genuinely a disgusting way to handle domestic abuse. Please read this for more information. 

Seriously. It’s all kinds of fucked.

Myth Number 2:

Men glorify raping women.

Forgive me for not fact-bombing the crap out of this, but to put it simply, the only place I’ve ever seen this in my life occur is in movies. Rape is a serious crime. Nobody likes real-deal rape. Those who do are insane.

Though... you want to know what’s interesting? Even a CDC’s report on rape numbers showed imminent bias against men, making a distinction between “rape” and “being forced to penetrate.” Men who were “forced to penetrate” rather than “being raped” were not included in the statistic on rape, rather, the “other acts of sexual violence.”

In the UK, women legally do not rape men. It’s similarly classified as men being “forced to penetrate.” Hmmmmm. Suspicious.

Male-on-female rape is also under-reported. This is a SERIOUS ISSUE.

Myth Number 3:

Men have systematic privilege. 

I know this is definitely dancing on the line between feminism and antifeminism, so I’m going to try and approach this situation as best I can. I’ll be avoiding things such as “wage gap” and so on, however, this post is a great read if you want to see such things about the wage gap and so on disproven. That’s going to be all of the antifeminism mention I’ll have for this point and I will only just relay statistics of “female privilege” that is actually systematic and found on that post.

Hispanic/Latino and Black men, actually, ALL men, are more likely to be committed of a crime and have harsher sentences over women.

Judges told to be less stringent and more lenient towards sentencing female criminals.

Prostate cancer has half as much money in federal funding for its research compared to breast cancer despite it nearly having the same about of deaths as breast cancer. (Yes, I am aware men can be victims of breast cancer. However, this still doesn’t change the near-equal numbers of deaths so that point is irrelevant.)

Child custody rates between men and women are abysmal. 11million women hold custody of children while only 2 million men do.

Men are forced to sign up for the draft, women aren’t. Women also only make up .001% of deaths in the American military since 1950.

97% of women receive alimony. 3% of men do. The article linked is slightly biased, but the numbers do not lie.

False rape is a very real threat towards men. Also a slightly biased argument, but once again, numbers do not lie.

Societal privilege?

While perhaps anecdotal, I’d suggest reading “Self-Made Man” written by Norah Vincent. She is a feminist.

She was a woman who dressed and posed as a man for 6 months.

She then proceeded to have a mental breakdown. By the end of the experiment, she said she was happy to be a woman over a man.

Men are not systematically oppressive either, at least in the western world. Everyone has their basic human rights and are treated as human under the law. Don’t water down the definition of oppressive for an argument. It’s just insulting to those who are oppressed such as the women in the Middle-East or the people of North Korea/China.

Myth Number 4:

MRA’s do not care about men, especially ________ men

I’m honestly sick of the villainization of MRA’s. I’m sure a good 85% of the people who crap on them cannot even name an MRA platform, major figure, and so on.

And no Roosh V and Return of Kings are not Men’s Rights Activists.

If anyone says “MRA’s do not care about men, blah blah blah,” please take a look at the Men’s Rights Reddit. Regardless of how you feel about their position as Men’s Rights Activists, to say that these people do not care truly about men is just vile and disgusting and a lie. I will wholeheartedly admit, many of them are antifeminists, but I’d suggest reading what many of them have to say before making false blanket statements against them. Maybe you’ll learn about WHY they identify as antifeminists. 

And you can find resources for both gay men and trans men on there. I’m a gay male, so I can give a personal testimony here. I believe they do care about me.

Another group, known as “The Honey Badgers” have repeatedly made efforts for Men’s Rights. Currently, they are trying to open up another Men’s Shelter in Canada. If you care about Men’s Rights, regardless of your position, please support them. Their podcast, “Honey Badger Radio,” also features a majority of FEMALE Men’s Rights Activists.

You should also check out “The Red Pill,” a documentary showing a feminist’s journey into the Men’s Rights Movement. As she delves further on, she starts to question her beliefs about men, women, and the mainstream push for gender equality. It should soon be on DVD and I believe even Netflix, last I heard.

Basically, I wouldn’t suggest making a stance against an ideology you know next to nothing about, to anyone who perpetuates this myth in particular.

(Yes, I was a feminist. I was a VERY active feminist, too, so please do not call me a hypocrite.)

Myth Number 5:

Misandry isn’t real.

Go away. You’re beyond hope. I honestly don’t care about what you have to say if you say this. Prejudice is real, no matter what anyone says. Hatred is real. Collective hatred is never justified, never rational, and hardly ever productive.

Myth Number 6:

________ is the true ideology for equality.

Yes, this means you, too, Egalitarians.

There’s no one true ideology for equality. Yes, there are feminists who are for gender equality. There are MRAs who are for gender equality. And, yes, there are egalitarians for gender equality. Feminism and MRAs are part of a movement for gender equality, while egalitarianism isn’t so much of a movement, rather, an ideology. 

Once more, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to bring up feminism. One can make arguments that the feminist movement does or doesn’t care for men’s rights. In fact, there are feminists who say they are or aren’t for men’s rights. I’m not going to say anything more than that on the topic of feminism. Though, I’m sure one will bring up that “the definition of feminism” argument, but actions speak louder than words. While 80% of Americans believe in gender equality, only about 20% self-identify as feminists. Take with that what you will.

In short, no one owns the definition of gender equality. No one owns the definition of men’s rights. 

Myth Number 7:

“Male tears”

Please stop saying this, for a number of reasons:

People who say this also often say that they care about men’s feelings and that they should show their emotion. Making fun of male sorrow really doesn’t look like you do.

Seriously, someone who makes fun of a man doesn’t look like they care about men.

It provides no argument and, from a person who would be completely non biased to an argument, only weakens your case.

It literally means semen. Stop saying you bathe or drink it. It means semen. 

Myth Number 8:

Manuary is just about men but the supporters of it don’t care about women, are misogynists, etc.

I’m sure that there are misogynist supporters of it. Hell, I’m sure there is a misogynist reading this! I’ll be honest, I find some of the supporters of Manuary a bit... obnoxious about it, too.

However, if you’ve looked, people have also suggested “Fembruary” to talk about women’s issues. I don’t think the idea has caught on as quickly, but hopefully supporters of Manuary are aware of it now ;P

And yes, I can and will make a similar post to this about Women’s Rights come Fembruary. However, similar to this post, I will be dispelling myths on women's issues. But, I promise not to talk about supposed issues that are actually non-issues. 

As I said at the beginning of the post, if you support the concept of Manuary but don’t like those who support it, either be the change you wish to see or stop talking. Or, as the saying goes, “put up or shut up.”

If you care about men it shouldn’t matter whether or not you agree with them on certain issues! Otherwise you are just a sucky person! And a misandrist! *clapping emojis*

Okay, hopefully I didn’t come off as TOO biased. I’m not here to argue so don’t even bother. I’m just dispelling some myths and showing why Manuary is a thing. 

Please help as best you can with bonus sources and peer-reviewing this.  I’ll admit I am definitely one who gets things wrong, so I need all the help I can get. 

Why do you support Manuary? What issues have you as a men faced because of your gender? What issues have you witnessed happen because of someone being a man?

[lesbians-beach-love]

I know people are supposed to inbox you numbers but no one likes me. So.

Question Time! p: 1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now? I am confused why no one wants to hire me and pay me the amount of money I'm worth. 2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone? If my girlfriend and I aren't together I get them from her. 3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care? She does. And I don't. I wish I still did. 4: Do you find it easy to trust others? Depends. I'm more of a listener than a truster. I wait until I think it's okay to share myself. 5: What were you doing at 11PM last night? Trying to leave work on time. 6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you? My girlfriend. Or my best friend Alyssa. 7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on? Work it out. I think there is a big difference between physical attraction and genuine love. 8: Are you close with your dad? Not really. Haven't really been ever. We get along awkwardly. 9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right? My girlfriend was already passed out when I got home. But she woke up with a nose bleed and after that she kissed me 😂 10: What are you listening to? Certainty by the Temples. 11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it? Water. I love water. 12: Do you like hickeys? I like to give rather than receive 😉 13: What time do you go to bed? Anywhere between 2 and 6am 14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down? My coworkers. 15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both? No. Who can?! 16: Do you always answer your texts? Does anyone? I answer my girlfriend and I kind of check and forget until I'm called out on it. 17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for? No because she's mine now. 18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? Tonight. Like an hour ago. They are probably all drunk now. 19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them? My best friend. I should probably say my girlfriend, but I know my best friend I get so hype to see. 20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? "Please let me dream about being bffs with Shannon Beveridge again!" It didn't happen. 21: Is anyone else in the room with you? No. I'm at work trying to leave but Lorraine is missing. 22: Do you believe what goes around comes around? Yes. Karma is a bitch. But karma can also be so nice. 23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now? No. I was poor. I'm still poor. And I'd have to go through winter all over again and not get any snow. 24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with? My dad's family. There's just so much drama and fakeness it's just best to avoid. 25: In the past week, have you cried? Oh definitely. I cry at the stupidest shit. 26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing? Black. Like my soul. 27: Do people ever call you by your last name? Coaches that knew my brother and sister did and then my sorority sisters did for some reason. 28: Is anyone ignoring you right now? Not that I know of. 29: Do you have a best friend? Yes. Her name is alyssa. She's the funniest person I've ever met. 30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed? Yes... my girlfriend shouldn't be kissing anyone. 31: Who was your last call from? My mom... 32: Are you mad at anyone? My annoying coworkers. 33: Have you ever kissed someone older than you? Yes. Almost everyone I've been with has been older than me. 34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? Twenty seven. So old. I don't want to turn 26. 35: How many more days until your birthday? Forty days. 36: Do you have any summer plans yet? Beaching and working. 37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex? Many! 38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now? Not anything that they would care about. 39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone? I'm sure we all have one. 40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Yes. 41: Do you think age matters in relationships? I think when you approach a larger gap it does. 42: Are you available? Nope. 43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended? One person. I mean I guess 3, but looking back no one compares to my gf now. 44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get? I kind of hate piercings. Maybe my eyebrow. 45: Do you believe exes can be friends? I think so. You reach a point of this disconnect that you just don't see them in that way anymore. 46: Do you regret anything? Opening fucking credit cards. 47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now? Being poor. Seriously. All I think about. 48: Did you ever lose a best friend? Yeah. Kind of my fault though. Or does this mean like dead? Because no then. 49: Was your last kiss a mistake? No. 50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? Because I'm already in love wth her. 51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? So many times. 52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed? Yeah. Kind of dating her. 53: What was the last thing you ate? Moe's earmuffs bowl 😂 54: Did you get any compliments today? My parents said I look like I lost weight... so. That was nice. 55: Where are you going on your next vacation? The poconos to my old job for wizarding Weekend! 56: Do you own anything from other countries? A hat from Canada. 57: Are most of your friend guys or girls? Girls. But I have a decent amount of guy friends. 58: Where have you lived most of your life? The Lehigh Valley in Pennsylvania. 59: When was the last time you took a long drive? It's been a while. 60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? Yes. Which resulted in me getting mono. 61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house? Yes. My brother cracked my cousins tooth... 62: Who do you text the most? My girlfriend. 63: What was the last movie you saw? Moana!!!! 64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex? Well her ex is a guy she hasn't talked to in a long time. Like ten years. So. Yeah. That. 65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2010? I had two. Because that's he Year I started dating my gf now. 66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you? Nope. 67: Do you curse around your parents? If I'm overly passionate about something. 68: Are you happy with where you live? I do love the beach. 69: Do you collect anything? Vinyl records. 70: What’s your favourite colour? Tie dye! 71: Does the last song you listened to remind you of anyone? Well the song I'm listening to now is dickhead. Which reminds me of my sisters husband. 72: Has anyone ever cheated on you? Yes. Ugh. Fuck her man. 73: What are your plans for tomorrow? Work :/ 74: Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one? Yes. All three are actually over 30. 75: Does your last ex have a job? I would hope so. 76: What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship? She is... I'm happy for her! Seriously. 77: Where is your cellphone? In my hand. 78: What colour is your cellphone? Black. Again like my soul. 79: What did you dream of last night? Camping. Lol! 80: Are you atheist? Nah. I am Christian. 81: Will you change your name when you get married? I think my gf is taking my name? 82: Are you ready for autumn weather? NO I WANT SUMMER. 83: Have you had any big storms recently? Kind of. Everywhere else it snowed. There was wind here. That's it. 84: What kind of bottoms are you wearing? Black work pants.

[viralhottopics]

17 Things That Are Already Not Going Your Way In 2017

Even though pretty much everyone dubbed 2016 as “The Worst Year Ever”, we need to be real with ourselves for a second and admit 2017 hasn’t exactly gone as planned either. I mean, we’re barely two months in and we’re already tired as shit. In case you were wondering what has been going wrong, as if you needed a reminder, here are 17 things probably not going your way already in 2017.

1. The Weather

The South had weirdly hot weather and tornadoes. The West had excessive amounts of snow and rain, and now it’s fucking flooding. The East was doing pretty well until it decided to get up to 70 degrees one day, then blizzard the next. Winter sucks anyway, but let’s just all agree that this one has been a real stinker. Thanks a lot, La Nia.

2. Your Love Life

Apparently, the beginning of the year is generally the best time to fire up Tinder and Bumble and all the dating apps because everyone makes resolutions or some shit to find love. You probably were pretty optimistic at the beginning of the year that this was going to be “your year” when it comes to not being single AF. But here we are on Valentine’s Day, and the only male attention you’ve gotten was that dude who cat-called you on the street.

3. Your Hair

You can watch celebrity hair tutorials until your eyes bleed, but thanks to a combination of shitty weather (the need to wear a hat) and lack of motivation, your hair has probably seen better days. Maybe wait until you’re in a better mood/it’s sunny again to do anything drastic to your locks or you’ll be in a really bad place by the first day of spring.

4. The Inauguration

Yeah, basically the whole country thought we were getting punk’d when Trump won the election. I bet a lot of people were like, Then the inauguration happened and all of our worst fears were realized. What a weird day that was.

5. Politics In General

Basically everything that’s happened in Washington D.C. over the last month has been a major WTF moment. The Muslim Ban they aren’t calling a ban, repealing the Mexico City Policy, fucking up health care for people, you name it. Please, politicians, stop. Just stop.

6.

First of all, no one was very excited about Nick VileI mean, Viallbecoming the Bachelor. If you were excited, you can eat your words because this season has been pretty boring compared to past seasons. You can pretend like it’s just as good but you’re lying to yourself. Sure, some moments are entertaining, but do you really think any of those girls see Nick as the prize? No. The real prize is getting picked to be the Bachelorette

7. The Super Bowl

Tom Brady and The Patriots are like Corinne, and The Falcons are like every other girl on . Sure, one is pretty hot and usually makes the headlines, but the other was so lovable and we wanted them to win. It all came crashing down during the final minutes. Corinne is going to fucking win, isn’t she? Shit.

8. Dieting

Yeah, I’m sure you were really planning on hitting the gym and cutting some cals to drop those extra holiday pounds. Actually, though, the only thing you’ve been cutting is cake. You know spring is just around the corner, right? If you ever want to wear a swimsuit again you better reevaluate your prioritiespriorities that don’t include midnight runs to Taco Bell.

9. Awards Ceremonies

Am I the only one who has been woefully unimpressed by this year’s award shows? Apart from Meryl Streep dropping some truth bombs at The Golden Globes and a naked and preggo Beyonc getting robbed, everything else has been kind of meh. Kanye didn’t even show up to the Grammys, so what are we even supposed to talk about? C’mon Oscars, be interesting. We’re begging you.

10. Trying Not To Drink

A bunch of betches tried to do a dry month during January or February (because it’s the shortest month, obvi). Like, I get thinking that you need a cleanse after everything that happened in 2016, but avoiding vodka sodas probably won’t improve your life that much. Let’s be honest, if you made one of these goals and have been sticking to it, I don’t believe you anyway. There’s no way you can see what’s going on in the world right now and not need a drink. You’re just as much of a lush as you were last year. You know it. I know it. We all know it.

11. Sex

Even if your romantic life isn’t totally shitty, sex is not going to be as great in 2017. Why? Because women are stressed AF that birth control won’t be covered by their insurance anymore or Planned Parenthood will get defunded. It’s kind of like a dark cloud looming over your bedroom. Also, don’t try to argue that a new movie is going to motivate your boyfriend to get more adventurous. You know you’re going to have to take charge on that and that’s just more work for you. Eye roll.

12. Wedding Season

You’re probably like, wait, WTF?, we’re months away from wedding season. That is true, but you bet your ass the save-the-dates are piling up on your fridge. Going to the kitchen now is like a constant reminder that you’re going to have to spend so much fucking money to support your friends and their happiness. Just UGH.

13. Planning for Spring Break

Did you forget spring break was even on its way because the weather sucks so much? Yeah, I think everyone is kind of caught up in other things right now. Maybe we can all take a minute from protesting an evil dictatorship and plan some much needed R&R. Maybe just don’t plan a trip to Mexico though, because the wall might get put up and you’ll be stuck in Cabo for the rest of forever. Actually, that might not be such a bad thing….

14. Your Horoscope

We couldn’t really expect this year to be stellar because our horoscopes have been so crappy lately. We started the year with Mercury in Retrograde. You know that fucks shit up. And last Friday was a Full Moon, so everything was just a little bit off. Here’s to hoping the stars don’t continue to screw us over all year long.

15. The Internet

OK, so 2017 is trying really hard to produce internet gold. The Cash Me Ousside girl is kind of funny. The Salt Bae chef guy is just average. But can you really expect viral hits to be produced in an era when Joe Biden isn’t in the White House? And the evil Kermit thing will always be fire. I’m sorry but 2016 had some of the best memes of all time, of all time! Plus, all your socials are full of political nonsense and #FakeNews. Can we just get back to posting selfies and belfies and thigh gaps and all that ridiculous shit?

16. Work

Real talk. So far this year you have not found a rich sugar daddy to pay your bills and buy you a yacht. That being said, you probably still have to get up everyday and put some effort into pretending to work. It kind of makes you miss interning days when not fucking up a coffee order was your biggest responsibility.

17. Your New Year’s Resolution

It’s the middle of February and I’ll put money on the fact that your New Year’s resolution was garbage a week into 2017. It’s fine. No one is judging you for not sticking to it (we knew that would happen), we’re mostly just judging you for making one in the first place. You should know better. Resolutions are bullshit.

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from 17 Things That Are Already Not Going Your Way In 2017