#bad dating

[mixchronicles-futureboyfriend]

Dear Future Boyfriend – I Do… No Seriously, Forever I Do!!!

Some girls grow up dreaming about their wedding day. The white dress, the perfect groom, the Coming to America rose pedal walk way. “She’s Your Queen To Beeeee”… yeah, I am not some girls. Not that I don’t like cute dresses, handsome men and beautiful flowers.  It’s just I kinda never thought I’d get married (don’t worry neither did my mother).  While other girls made wedding collages and fantasized about their perfect day, I cringed on the inside and faked it on the outside. Yes, yes, I cannot wait to be stuffed into an oversize Cinderella dress, with a 10-foot train and a 20 lb. veil for 5 to 10 excruciating hours while my feet throb and my face hurt from flashing a 32 teeth megawatt grimace… I mean smile.  Definitely sounds like a dream, hosted by Freddy Krueger.  Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t cynical because I didn’t think I was marriage material.  I absolutely am. Actually, I’m the finest, most exquisite… the Vicuña of marriage material. It’s just I didn’t really see the point.  Well… that’s not true. I did understand the importance of having one sole emergency contact and not rotating it amongst your three best girlfriends depending on who’s in town. I also understood the possibility of dying alone in one’s home only to have your corpse eaten away by your 12 disloyal cats. No, the reason I never thought I’d get married is because I didn’t make marriage a priority.  When I visualized my life, marriage just didn’t matter.  Of course, I dated and even thought I was in love a time or ten, but I could never see me with that person long term. I was emotionally nearsighted. Actually, I might have been legally blind.  Well, that was until 2020.  When the world was on lockdown and people were fighting in their local Walmart over toilet paper, I was at home snugging with my doggie and wine, ready to ride out the wave of the pandemic.  But as the weeks passed, my wine ran low (kidding it never ran low) and the waves continued, it was actually a check-in call from my 70-year-old dentist that changed my perspective.  One evening, this kind man took a break from a family game of Scrabble to give me a call.  While laughing with his loved ones he grew concerned because he knew I was somewhere alone and single (and probably drunk).  At first, I thought, “Aweee that’s so sweet,” but then instantly I became troubled. As a single woman I could never clear the dinner dishes and enjoy a friendly game of Scrabble with my family.  Mainly because my family consisted of one small dog, but mostly because I’m a horrendous speller (yes Google helped me with that word) and my dog refused to play with me.  It was at that very point, Future (Current) Boyfriend, I knew it was time to find you. 

So how does one find their soulmate or at least someone to go enough of the distance with to qualify for a tax break?  Not sure, but at that point I knew it was time to try.  If the world was coming to an end, I decided I wanted mine to end with a special someone.  Finally, it was time to take dating seriously.  So, I did what any serious dater would do… I updated my Bumble profile.  It had been a while since I’d last been on the site so I needed to refresh my pictures and suspend my disbelief that only unemployed mactors (model/actor – both words used loosely) looking for a part-time relationship and a full-time crash pad, were the only men left on the site.  It was time to get back into the depressing dating cesspool pool of La La Land.  With an open mind and very low expectations I began swiping and to my surprise it took less than a week for me to be sitting across from you, Future (Current) Boyfriend.  Maybe it was your smile (when you dropped your mask), or your laugh, or the way you looked at me, or looked out for me, or perhaps it was your Midwestern roots and the way you stood up when I stood up, or that you asked about my wants, or shared your intentions, or when you suggested I try the bread, or when you ordered me another glass of wine (which is my love language btw), or when you walked closest to the street so I didn’t get mowed down by a truck or a car or a drunk kid cruising the PCH on a scooter, or maybe it was the conversation we shared overlooking the ocean, or the call to your aunt to tell her about me, or when you took my hand and said, “you have old lady hands” and then I laughed and you laughed and we laughed until the sun went down and the moon came up...  Actually, I’m not sure when or why or how and honestly, I don’t care because what I do know is that somewhere in that epic 6-hour first date, despite a pandemic and freezing weather (thank you global warming), I decided I didn’t want this to end.  And thankfully neither did you.  So we kept dating… and dating… and dating until we were both madly in love. And for the first time in my life I thought, “I want to get married.”  Well no, actually that’s not true. What I really thought was, “I want to get married to THIS man!”

We were together less than a year in when you, Future (Current) Boyfriend suggested we take a trip to Hawaii for my birthday.  Despite only a few months of dating, I just KNEW you were going to propose.  According to LA standards, 3 months is equivalent to a decade in relationships. People marry divorce and remarry in less time than our courtship, and I was growing impatient. You have to understand, after writing well over 100 SOS messages to My Future Boyfriend, I’d finally found him. I knew this was the real deal and I was ready for us to begin our happily ever after together. Before leaving, I’d spend weeks shopping online. I wanted The Perfect Outfit to go with My Perfect Proposal from My Perfect Boyfriend.  And as expected, you did not disappoint. After a spa day filled with pampering, you whisked me away to the most luxurious hotel, with an ocean view and tiny mints on our pillows. As we stood on the balcony to enjoy yet another sunset my heart quickened, “Omg it this is just like our first date. He’s gonna pop the question right here.  Damn, I really should have moisturized these old lady hands…” Instead, you cut my fantasy short, reminding me we had dinner reservations in 30 mins.  No worries, I’d been preparing for this moment for months. Faster than a Beyoncé costume change on the Renaissance tour, I was ready to go. Fully glammed in 5-inch heels, with a white summer dress, sporting a subtle (not subtle) train, I hopped in an Uber with My Perfect Boyfriend and headed to a Perfect Dinner for My Perfect Proposal.  But there was no proposal at dinner. Actually, there was no proposal that night at all. The food at that 5-star restaurant was so horrible a homeless man turned his nose up at it. Our after dinner stroll was abruptly interrupted by a downpour of humid island rain. And my beautiful white summer dress was quickly tied into a knot (by prince charming himself) to keep the subtle (not so subtle) train from dragging down the muddy streets. As I sat in a plastic chair replacing my 5-inch impractical heels for hot pink plastic sandals the vision of my Perfect Proposal began melting away, alongside my eyelash glue.  Did I make this all up?  You suggested a simple birthday trip and here I transformed it into some Hallmark proposal.  And now I was left soggy and disappointed with no ring or fiancé.  But you know what I love about you Future (Current) Boyfriend?  It’s that you are your own man. You sniffed me out way before the dinner and decided if you were going to propose to me, but it would be on your terms. And that’s exactly what you did.  A couple days later with no fancy, horrible dinner, no heels or trains, no eyelashes or gimmicks, we took a hike to a waterfall. We held hands and laughed, we picked flowers and shared a lunch, you made fun of my old knees and my inability to swim, and then you asked if I would be your forever best friend… and just like that first date I fell in love with you all over again.  So Future Boyfriend, Current Boyfriend, Fiancé, Husband, Forever Best Friend thank you for FINALLY showing up and allowing me to close this chapter. But more importantly, thank you for the new one that I get to begin with you.

xo,

Mix

[pangur-and-grim]

one thing that took me embarrassingly long to learn is "sometimes when people say things, they will not be true."

I used to tell people about this revelation and they'd be like yeah.....duh.....but like, why wouldn't my base assumption be that you're communicating to me in a straightforward manner. anyway, I get scammed a lot.

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[blondie-drawings]

mama a Body behind you 😰 // pt1/pt2/pt3

[vizthedatum]

I think, after every birthday of mine, I am full of desperation and I chase desperation.

Every single adult birthday when I haven’t been monogamous, I end up letting go of my standards when it comes to dating and/or hooking up.

It sucks. It’s not really any of those other people’s faults (except for my ex-spouse - fuck them, and I don’t care if they thought they loved me - I really don’t care).

I just want to feel wanted, and I do feel wanted for a very short amount of time. And it disappoints me IMMENSELY every single time.

And I never learn my lesson.

Anyway.

Next year, I hope I do better.

[lgbtlunaverse]

Obsessed with characters who portray themselves as worse than they are. Who are lying to everyone including themselves about it. People generally assume if someone's lying about themselves they're trying to look better but sometimes they're trying to look worse. They attribute agency to where they had none, add intent to accidents, try to convince everyone that this is something they did instead of something that happened to them.

[gojoest]

nanami kento tries so hard not to fuck you on your first date, it makes him feel like a terrible man. he’s not like this, usually. you just frustrate every single cell in him, sexually — he can’t believe this is happening to him, honestly.

it’s a pain, he acts cold and distant — he’s simply trying to hide his boner half of the time. he zones out while you speak — your lips are distracting, he can’t hear a single word you speak. he can only think of the many ways your lips would shape and shift when you moan and whimper his name the deeper he sinks his cock in you. also, can you fit all of him down your throat? oh, can you—

fuck…

his cock gets hard under the table, forcing a sense of panic in him while he ponders whether he’s visibly leaked and stained his slacks or not. terrified to look down, because he knows. he’s so fucked.

he needs to wait a bit before you leave the restaurant, to cool off a bit, calm down. but it only gets worse from there.

he drives you back home, but doesn’t leave the car to walk you to your doorstep. his cock is hard again, aching so bad it limits his movements. besides if he steps out and stands tall before you — you will see, this time you definitely will. he’s embarrassed. and on top of that, he feels like an ass, the lowest of the lowest, for treating you so poorly.

the entire car ride was torturous to him, courtesy of your scent so close to him in the passenger seat, along with the way you tucked your hands between your thighs every now and then — perhaps the awkward silence got you nervous. he wondered all the way to your house how you smelled and tasted, down there.

you think the whole date was a disaster, and that he’ll never call you again but little did you know, the first thing he did when he went back home was jerk off — not once, not twice, but three fucking times, thinking about you. furiously.

later, he texts you. you blink a few times in utter disbelief.

dinner tomorrow? i’ll cook

dinner — at his place, that is. he’ll change the bedsheets in the morning with freshly washed ones, because this time — he’ll fuck you.

[fanaticalthings]

the muskification of twitter except it's lex luthor instead of elon lol

<- Prev Masterlist Next ->

[asterronomical]

Just two demons. hangin out....... this is what the inside of my brain looks like if ur wondering

[jabesa0]

🤍🤍🤍🤍

[recny]

jacob anderson #1 lesdaughter enthusiast confirmed

[serapheseraphim]

People really need to stop talking about aromantic people in such a way to suggest we need to, like, make up for our lack of romantic attraction? This ties into the whole "aromantic people can still date" and "aromantic people can have qprs" and "aromantic people still feel strong platonic love" pattern I keep seeing where it's as if people are trying to say "don't worry, they can still be mostly normal" and it is so frustrating to me as a non-partnering aromantic person and is likely even worse for aplatonic and loveless aros.

[blondie-drawings]

Good lord this tomb is full of shitposts 😳😳 pt 1/pt 2

[nhyhu]

idk when this progress shot is from lol

[sketchy-tour]

Redrew some of my old daycare attendant doodles as stress relief today