#going to the mall after school and dicking around with their friends and not necessarily buying anything is good for teens' health

[puppyluver256]

I don't know how else to explain it, but every time I hear about or see direct evidence of malls instating anti-teenager policies (ie. "everyone under the age of 18 must be accompanied by a parent/guardian"), it feels like someone going into the forest and forcibly relocating all of the bears.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Tod Waggner

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(So sorry this took so long!)

- You and Tod met after being seated next to each other in class. Since you literally sat side by side, when it was time for your teacher to assign partners for classwork, you usually ended up working with him.

- When you and Tod met, neither of you were really thinking of each other in a romantic way. Tod acknowledged; in his head, that you were pretty but for a while, his thoughts never moved past that. He was more preoccupied with Christa and Blake.

- Then one day, he’d told you some stupid joke and you’d laughed, touching his arm for a split second and his heart just went …boom. He had butterflies, he was sweating, he couldn’t speak; he was a mess. After that, you were all he could really think about. 

- Tod isn’t shy but he does tend to strategize when it comes to girls. He can’t just ask them out, he has to ease into things, test the waters and make sure that they like him back. He’s not gonna jump into things just to get rejected on the first try, he’s gonna worm his way into your heart nice and slow. But taking things nice and slow is a dangerous game.

- There’s a noticeable shift in his behavior towards you but you just chalk it up to him deciding to get friendly since you’re always working together. Is is sort of strange that he’s now constantly greeting you and following you around like a lost puppy but you try not to assume anything, not wanting to jump to conclusions and wind up feeling stupid.

- A few months into his attempts and he’s preparing to ask you out. The two of you had been hanging out together when he asked if you liked him, saying it nonchalantly and joking enough that you hadn’t suspected anything by it. It was then that you dropped the bombshell on him.

“...Yeah? I wouldn’t be friends with you if I didn’t?” You’d laughed. Friends with him. Friends. He couldn’t even think of a good way to respond to that.

“Yeah, well uh, ...yeah. Just making sure, haha.” He quickly excused himself, rubbing a hand down his face as he hurried away, internally losing his mind.

- What has he done? He laid awake in bed that night contemplating whether or not he should kill himself.

- Sure, having you like him enough to be his friend was all fine and dandy, but he had not artfully flirted with you for the past few months to just be your friend. He saw now that he really had to ask you out and soon too, before you only saw him as a friend and considered other options.

“What’s your favorite food?” He’d asked you pretty much out nowhere as the two of you sat together after school one day. You gave him a bit of a quizzical look but replied to his question.

“Really? Mine too. It’s eerie how much we have in common.” He joked and you laughed, shaking your head a little as you went back to what you were doing.

“Well... you know, since it’s your favorite, and it’s my favorite, why don’t we go eat some …together?” He said a bit nervously though his voice was laced with flirtation.

- He’s still a little surprised that you agreed, even though he was almost sure that you would.

- So the two of you have your first date at a restaurant that serves said food. He may or may not have pretended to like said food just to ask you out and was stuck having to eat it because he wasn’t prepared to admit that he lied.

- You shared your first kiss on your third date. He’d taken you bowling and teasingly made a bet that if he could knock down all the pins in one shot, he could get a kiss in return. Spoiler alert: he failed, but you still generously allowed him to after he playfully persuaded you that he deserved “at least a little one”.

- And with that kiss, he’d successfully made himself a forever home in your heart.

- Lots of pda. He wants everyone to know that you’re his girlfriend; he’s very proud.

- Hugs from behind. He likes to nuzzle into you and press a kiss to the top of your head before he lets go.

- Gentle kisses. You usually lean in, expecting to pull away just as quickly, then wind up spending a full minute with your lips locked. You don’t know how he does it, but he manages to do it every time. 

- Whenever the two of you are making out; which is quite often if we’re being honest here, he’ll always chase your lips when you move to pull away. He does not make not kissing him easy. 

- Babe, baby, darling, angel, sweetheart, love of my life. And said in that exact order when you aren’t paying attention to him. He always smiles amusedly when you finally turn to him and/or realize that he’s talking to you; his grin always just gets bigger the longer it takes. 

- Does he ever stop smiling? It’s like a happy grin is his default face, and you saying that he looks adorable only makes him smile wider. 

- Cheek kisses! It doesn’t even matter if he’s giving or receiving, he just loves them.

- Want a puppy for a boyfriend? He’s always smiling big whenever you touch or call his name. You swear that if he had a tail, he’d be wagging it every time he saw you.

- Stealing his clothes, usually just to wear at his house.

- He’s a sucker for cuddling; he can never get enough of it. He’s usually the big spoon but he also really likes when you baby him, wrapping your arms around him and playing with his hair while he nuzzles his face into your chest/stomach.

- He rests his hand on your boob a lot. It’s not even a conscious decision; his hand just always ends up on your chest whenever he has his arm around you. It’s just so soft and warm, he can’t help it.

- He definitely calls himself “daddy”, like “listen to daddy” and “can daddy have a kiss”. He likes seeing the expression on your face whenever he says it.

- Getting close to George and Alex. If he’s not with you, he’s with them so you’ll see them a lot; if only just to find out where your boyfriend is.

- Study dates. He pays attention all of ten minutes before he starts to try and distract you.

- Kid and comedy movie marathons.

- Hanging out at the mall together.

- He’s pretty much up for anything date-wise. If you have an idea then he’s more than happy to do it. He just likes adventures, no matter how big or how small.

- Day trips. The two of you will just up and go do something whenever it pops into your heads, usually with little to no planning.

- Knickknack gifts. They’re oftentimes cheap and slightly tacky but you think that they’re cute nonetheless. 

- He’s probably written you; surprisingly good, romantic poetry but would literally die if you showed any of them to anyone.

- You’re always the first person he looks at whenever something funny happens. You’re also always the first person he wants to tell a story to; that is, if you aren’t around to see it happen. 

- The two of you talk on the phone practically every night, even though you pretty much see each other every day.

- You’re sort of inseparable most of the time. He isn’t a fan of doing things alone; in general, so whenever he can have you by his side, he’ll eagerly accept the company. 

- He definitely brags about you, like constantly. With a girlfriend like you, why wouldn’t he? 

- He’s somewhat obnoxious but in a cute way. You can never be too annoyed or bothered by him, especially after he gives you an adoring look whenever you call his name to tell him to shut up/stop doing something.

- He’s sort of a sissy when it comes to pain but he does tend to exaggerate his reactions just to tease you, repeatedly complaining like you just punted him into next Tuesday whenever you gently hit or push him. 

- Kissing his injuries. He swoons every time.

- He likes to mess with you. He thinks your reactions are hilarious. 

- Teasing each other. You both make small dick jokes about him because you both know it isn't really true, and he’s more than willing to remind you of that fact whenever you ask. ;)

- I feel like he likes getting hickeys more than he likes giving them. Perhaps he shaves his barely there stubble so that you can devour his neck like a vampire with the munchies at any given time of day?

- He’s weirdly meticulous about some parts of his grooming; especially after you get together. He wants to look his best for you so he always agonizes over whether or not he’s in tip top shape or if he has to add something else to his nightly/morning routine.

- He isn’t very observant so don’t expect him to be able to see when you’re uncomfortable. He won’t notice until you’re very blatant about it or finally just tell him. While he isn’t very attentive at first, he immediately tries to do something to make up for it, feeling bad for not noticing. 

- He takes care of you, doing whatever has to be done that will make you feel better and safer. Maybe calling your parents or just anxiously sitting next to and watching you, holding you loosely and/or patting your shoulder. Seeing you work yourself into a fit really spooks him so rest assured, he’s gonna keep checking up on you every other minute. 

- He doesn't accept your self depreciation whether they’re jokes or not. He’ll refuse your comments in a joking manner but the sentiment remains the same. You’re perfect, shut up.

- Whenever it rains, he’ll hold his jacket over your head so that you can stay dry, letting himself get soaked in the process. Being cold and wet is worth the kisses that you give him for his chivalry. 

- He’s sort of scared that you’ll fall for his brother. He doesn’t necessarily think of himself as a downgrade but he can’t help but acknowledge that his older brother is much more popular and sought after than he is. 

- Whenever he gets jealous, he’ll usually watch from afar, his jaw set while he fights off the urge to completely scowl. He’ll give you that typical “who was that” routine when you’re alone together again, dwelling on the matter for far longer than he really needs to.

- He’s a bit self conscious so he always appreciates it whenever you compliment and/or reassure him that you love him.

- He doesn’t consider himself to be a protective person but when push comes to shove, he’s the first one to insult or lunge at whoever is being aggressive/rude to you. He quite literally has to be held back from fighting someone in your honor.

- Things can get a little heated when the two of you get into a fight. He’s usually fairly good at keeping his emotions at bay but if you rile him up enough; or if someone else does, then he does have a tendency to curse and raise his voice.

- One of you is going to walk out at some point, either him after throwing in an “I’m not doing this” or you. If you’re the one leaving then he’ll ask where you’re going, maybe adding in an “oh yeah, sure, just walk out” as you flip him off. Pretty much as soon as you leave, his breathing evens out and his shoulders slump and he’s left just feeling really shitty.

- When it comes to apologies, you’re probably the one to cave first; even after his brother tries to talk some sense into him. The two of you will go somewhere at the same time and take turns glancing at each other for a little while before you finally speak; it’s usually you because he doesn’t want to cause more trouble. After you make the first move, he’ll apologize and admit that he’s missed you.

- Lots of “I love you’s”. They’re mainly said playfully but occasionally he’ll say one seriously, making complete heart eyes at you while he does so.

- He’s sort of planning his future around yours. You’re going to x college? How crazy, he was thinking of that one too! Hey, maybe you should move in together. I mean, just cause it’s convenient, ya know?

[mel-at-dusk]

SEX, LIES AND CHEAP COLOGNE: AN ORAL HISTORY OF ABERCROMBIE & FITCH’S SOFTCORE PORN MAG

The story of how an oversexed, strangely intellectual magazine by a polo shirt brand completed the improbable task of changing the course of sexuality in America’s malls, homes and moose-print boxers

Abercrombie & Fitch CEO Mike Jeffries was a shrewd businessman, but he didn’t always make the best decisions. Between the blatantly racist T-shirts he signed off on, the child thongs he called “cute” and the series of public statements he made admitting that his brand intentionally excluded anyone who wasn’t “cool” and “good-looking” with “great attitudes and a lot of friends,” it’s no wonder that he spent the majority of his reign at Abercrombie in hot water. (For the uninitiated, Abercrombie made what fashion writer Natasha Stagg calls “sexy versions of the clothes kids already wore to school: T-shirts and jeans, stuff you could toss a football in or throw on the grass if everyone decided to go skinny-dipping.” More importantly, as she writes in her book Sleeveless, it was “for those who were casually peaking in high school.” It, meanwhile, peaked in the 1990s.)

An exception to Jeffries’ questionable CEO-ing would be A&F Quarterly, the glorious, controversial and questionably pornographic “magalog” he created at the height of the brand’s popularity in 1997 in order to connect “youth and sex” to its image. Woven in amongst surprisingly thoughtful interviews with A-list humans like Spike Lee, Bret Easton Ellis, Rudy Guiliani and Lil’ Kim was a cascade of naked photos from photographer Bruce Weber which showed nubile youngs in various states of undress. They were frolicking, they were caressing and they were deep in the throes of experimenting with types of sex that — at the time — had never been portrayed by mainstream brands.

With issue titles such as “XXX,” “The Pleasure Principle” and “Naughty and Nice,” the Quarterly dove headfirst into the risque. During its 25-issue run between 1997 and 2003, it printed interviews with porn star Jenna Jameson, offered sex advice on how to “go down” in public and suggested — on multiple occasions — that its readers dabble in group sex. One issue published an article on how to be a “Web exhibitionist,” another featured a Slovenian philosopher barking orders to “learn sex” at school and big-dick Ron Jeremy even stopped by to talk about performing oral sex on himself and using a cast made from his own penis.

The actual Abercrombie clothing being modeled in the magalog was an afterthought, appearing in Weber’s photos as more of an impediment to nudity than an actual, purchasable item. The whole thing was, as journalist Harris Sockel put it in an Human Parts essay, “20 percent merch, 20 percent talk and 100 percent soft-core aspirational porn.���

None of this would have been vexing had a more adult-oriented brand been the ones hawking it, but Abercrombie & Fitch was — and still is — marketed toward suspiciously toned teenage field hockey players named Brett. Though he might have looked like a man in his big salmon-pink polo, Brett was but a child. Abercrombie was fond of saying its clothing was for college-aged clientele, but we all knew where its real haute runway took place — inside the crowded halls of every middle school in Ohio.

The Quarterly, too, was intended for college kids, and to prove it, Abercrombie shrink-wrapped it in plastic and sold only to those over 18 for $6 a pop. You could buy it as a subscription, of course, but it was more commonly found in-store, nestled alongside A&F’s cargo shorts and “thongs for 10-year-olds,” a questionable placement that prompted concerned parents, conservatives and Christians to accuse Abercrombie of sullying their children’s minds with impure thoughts.

As such, the Quarterly became the subject of a mounting number of boycotts, protests and controversies that some believe were responsible for its eventual demise. By the time circulation peaked at 1.2 million in 2003, it had been denounced by organizations like the National Coalition for the Protection of Children and Families, Mothers Against Drunk Driving, the American Decency Association, Focus on the Family, the National Organization for Women and, of course, the Catholic League.

Yet the outrage against the Quarterly was matched — if not exceeded — by its cult following, who found its frank portrayal of sexuality to be transcendent. Journalists, artists and the teens whose hands it fell into adored the magazine, and its rarity — plus its utter absurdity — makes it a sought-after collector’s item to this day.

At the same time, few people know about the Quarterly and even fewer realize what it meant to the generations of young people discovering themselves and their sexualities through the unlikely lens of branded content. As journalist Emily Lever puts it, “There’s no weirder way to learn about sex than to pick up a magazine by Abercrombie & Fitch — a brand for hot, mean mostly white kids who shoved you into lockers — but, I guess I’ll take it?”

This is the story of how an oversexed and strangely intellectual magazine by a polo shirt brand completed the improbable task of changing the course of sexuality in America’s malls, homes and moose-print boxers.

AND IN THE BEGINNING, THERE WAS ASS

The first issue A&F Quarterly debuted in June 1997. With 70-ish pages of full-color hard bodies, it was relatively tame compared to later editions, but it quickly became popular when Abercrombie’s nubile clientele realized it was a paper-backed portal into an adult world of sex, nudity and the kind of unbridled sensory hedonism their parents warned them about. As rumors of its legend began to spread, people began to wonder: What the hell is A&F Quarterly, and why is it printing ass for teens?

Emily Lever, journalist and chronicler of the Quarterly’s absurdist philosophical leanings: A&F Quarterly was an in-house magazine put together by Abercrombie & Fitch that published a who’s who of literati to accompany their images of young adult and teen bodies in order to hawk expensive distressed jeans and polo shirts to kids who would shove you inside a locker.

Alissa Quart, author of Branded: The Buying and Selling of Teenagers and director of the Economic Hardship Reporting Project: From what I recall, it had a Bruce Weber-y vibe — gorgeous young men and teens unapologetically objectified, a leering retro pin-up element, also sort of like the highly stylized, sexed-up, nostalgic 1980s and 1990s black-and-white Guess ads. Men — boys, really — were photographed without their shirts, elaborately muscled abs, sometimes naked.

Harris Sockel, in his Human Parts essay: [It was] Playboy crossed with Fratmen.com and a bit of Field & Stream. The Quarterly made my hormones do a kick line across my frontal lobe. I wanted to nibble the soy ink for snack until sunrise. To absorb it so deeply I sweat grey drops onto my pillow. To rip a page from that issue and fold it into a paper flower and stick it all the way up my ass until it came out my mouth.

Lever: Yeah, it was hot. But it was also extraordinarily literary. It featured big-time thinkers, writers and philosophers — stuff that was supposedly intended to expand your mind. It was way too high-brow for the average Abercrombie teen, and its existence made almost no sense given what the brand represented.

Savas Abadsidis, editor-in-chief, 1997-2003: There was nothing else like it. We were the first mainstream brand to combine playful, irreverent, intellectual content with sex and youth in this beautiful, high-art magazine format. Was it controversial? Sure. But it made the entire country take notice.

What they didn’t necessarily see, however, was what was going on behind the scenes. Not only were we the first brand to do this kind of advertising, we were also the first big brand to normalize gay culture for a mainstream audience, expose America’s youth to some of the era’s most progressive thinkers and use our platform to address sexuality in a useful, hands-on way. And you wouldn’t necessarily expect that from Abercrombie. That’s what made it so cool.

It all began in 1996. I was 22 and working at a temp job for a prominent New York architect who happened to be friends with Sam Shahid, a big-time creative director for Calvin Klein, Banana Republic and later, Abercrombie & Fitch. He was looking for an assistant. I had taken a deferment to go to law school and was looking for a job for that interim year, so I applied. I got in.

It was a horrible gig at first. Just awful, Devil Wears Prada-type stuff. I left crying many nights. But I had two things going for me. The first was that Abercrombie had a really small office in the West Village. Mike Jeffries, the president and CEO of Abercrombie, used to come in. He wore flip flops, had a desk made out of a surfboard and began each sentence with the word “Dude.”

Mike Jeffries, ex-CEO of Abercrombie & Fitch, speaking to Salon in 2006: Dude, I’m not an old fart who wears his jeans up at his shoulders.

Abadsidis: I didn’t know it at the time, but Mike was gay (I wouldn’t find out until much later). I think that was part of the reason why he and Sam — who was also gay — took me under their wing. They actually didn’t realize that I was, too — it’s not like we all sat around a bonfire at Fire Island and talked about how us gay guys were infiltrating Abercrombie — but that dynamic dovetailed nicely with Bruce’s photography for both the brand and the Quarterly, and it certainly set the tone for what was to come. I was grateful to get what amounted to an unofficial apprenticeship from both Mike and Sam, and eventually, they had me doing much more involved tasks than I was hired to do.

One of them was sitting in on important meetings. At the time, Mike was inviting all these different editors from magazines like Interview, Men’s Journal and Rolling Stone to come in and brainstorm ideas for what the Quarterly could be, but their ideas were flat. They felt like ideas coming from 45-year-olds writing for college kids, and I could tell Mike was getting frustrated by how little they seemed to grasp what he wanted.

One day in a meeting, one of the magazine editors threw out an idea. Without even acknowledging him, Mike turned to me. “Savas,” he asked. “What do you think about that?”

My mind raced — I could tell he was testing me. If I flubbed the answer, I’d be done. I briefly considered censoring myself, but then I thought better. What did I have to lose? I was young. Surely, I’d find another summer job. “I don’t think it’s a great idea,” I told him.

Apparently, that was the right answer. Mike practically threw the guy out of the room.

After that, I started to think more about what I’d want to see out of a magazine. I was just out of college as a French comparative literature major at Vassar, and I was super into that sort of 1950s-style Esquire journalism with the dapper closing essay. I was deep into The New Yorker, Interview Magazine, 1990s-era Details, MAD Magazine and 1980s pop star mags like Tiger Beat, too — those were all an influence. I also loved philosophy, social theory and comics. And graphic novels. You know — college stuff. Then it hit me: If the magazine was for people like me, why not get actual college kids — not 50-year-olds — to create our content?

I suspected my ideas were what they were looking for and knew they’d look fresh compared to what other editors were throwing out, so I decided to take a risk. I got up at 2 a.m. and typed out a 20-page proposal for what I thought the Quarterly should be. The next morning, I faxed a copy to Mike. I left another on Sam’s desk.

About a (very anxious) week later, Sam called me into his office and told me to pick up his phone. Mike was on the other line. As I reached for the receiver, he leaned over to me and said, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

I didn’t even have time to comprehend what that meant before Mike’s voice was in my ear. “Congratulations, kid,” he told me. “You get one shot.”

Shortly thereafter, I was promoted from Sam’s assistant to the completely green, 23-year-old editor-in-chief of the Quarterly. It was a Jerry Maguire moment. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time.

They gave me a month to put together a staff and get the first issue out. Bruce Weber was named as its exclusive photographer — he’d already been shooting ads and campaigns for Abercrombie — and Sam was the creative director. As for me, I knew I’d need an editorial staff, and stat.

HOLY SHIT, THERE ARE NO LIMITS

Abadsidis quickly throws together a team composed of two college buddies, Patrick Carone and Gary Kon, who he describes as “pretty funny and stuff.” Carone became the only straight guy on the editorial side. Kon is Jewish and gay. The three of them vow to stay as true to the idealized college experience as possible with their content — even if it means chasing white whales.

Abadsidis: I can’t remember the exact starting budget, but it was upwards of a few million, probably much larger than most magazines get for their first issue! But our budget was also Bruce’s budget. He was getting advertising money, so we were well taken care of in that regard.

We weren’t really expected to turn a profit, though. That was never the point. Come to think of it, I don’t even think we tracked how much the magazine impacted clothing sales, although from what I can remember, clothing sales bumped up double digits every quarter after we launched (for a while, at least). [This statement is unverified.] But that didn’t matter: Our mission was just to set the brand image and make people aware of us. That was our version of success. We were also our only advertiser for a while, so we could get away with a lot of stuff that other publications couldn’t.

Gary Kon, managing editor, 1997-2003: When Savas offered me the job, I jumped at the opportunity. I’d already interned for Sam, and I’d have to scan hundreds of Bruce Weber images that he shot for Abercrombie as part of the job. And I fell in love with his work. It was the visual connection that seduced me. Weber’s photos were like a new Greek mythology; the men and women depicted in the photos were both idealized and sexualized. As a gay kid, who was pretty comfortable by that time in my own skin, I had no problem recognizing the eroticism in his work.

Abadsidis: Me, Gary and Patrick was definitely something special. I don’t think I’ll ever have an opportunity to create anything like that again. I was a huge comic book fan. If I had to describe it, it’s the closest thing I’ll ever come to Stan Lee’s Marvel comics bullpen. Pretty much everyone I hired was super unique. We weren’t all gay (maybe half of us were) but few of us really adhered to the Abercrombie image.

I think Sean came on in 2001.

Sean T. Collins, managing editor, 2001-2003: I was a little skittish about it at first because Abercrombie & Fitch represented everything I was not. They marketed, almost exclusively, to the lacrosse players that called me names I cannot repeat. It was very preppy, and that was not me at all.

I was alternative, maaan. I was a big fan of Nine Inch Nails. I wore a lot of black. A&F was everything I wasn’t, and in a way, everything that had tormented me as a kid. The irony of me working for them was palpable, but what I learned very quickly was that at the Quarterly, you could do anything that you wanted.

One of my first articles was an interview with Clive Barker, the writer and director of Hellraiser (he also wrote Candyman). Now, if you’ve seen Hellraiser, you can imagine just how far of a departure a sadomasochistic horror film was from Abercrombie & Fitch, but getting him to sign on was easy. He’s gay, and at the time, he was super ripped. I think he appreciated the extravagant gayness of the Weber stuff in particular. He was also a photographer, and his husband was, too. I think he recognized what was going on with the photography.

We had an unlimited expense budget, so I took him out for drinks at the Four Seasons. I talked to him for hours, and then he invited me to go back to his house and hang out and see his art studio. He had three mansions in a row on Sunset in Los Angeles, up in the hills. One for his office, one for his actual domicile and one that was a painting studio. I got to see that. I was just a 23-year-old kid. This was my first job out of college, and I felt like Cameron Crowe from Almost Famous. After that, I was like, “Holy shit, there are no limits.”

Kon: I have to credit Savas with pushing us to work without limitations. We were very lucky. At some point during my tenure, I realized that as long as we worked within our (sizable) budget, we had almost full autonomy. We could plan trips to Hollywood to shoot our favorite actors. We could travel to Thailand to reenact our version of The Beach. We could tag along to London or Rome or wherever Bruce was shooting the catalog. We could stroll into the office at 11 a.m. and work until 11 p.m.

Collins: If I wanted to talk to Bettie Page, the pinup model from the 1950s, they’d be like, “Okay, sure.” If I wanted to feature Underworld, my favorite electronic music band, it was, “Sure, go ahead.” It was total editorial freedom, which was so strange knowing how specific of a person the “Abercrombie type was.” I’ve been writing for two decades now, and I’ve never experienced anything like it since.

Abadsidis: Everyone wanted to be in it, too. At first, it was just indie musicians. But then, in the second issue, we snagged Lil’ Kim. That’s when I knew we’d made it big. She was into it — she loved everything about the Quarterly. A lot of people did. The whole high-brow/low-brow thing was really appealing, and the idea of going to college, reading good books, getting drunk and having sex felt uniquely nostalgic and fresh in the context of America back then. Clinton was getting impeached for getting a blow job. It was just a weird, puritanical time, and the Quarterly gave people a national platform to let their freak flag fly.

We had Rudy Guiliani, early Britney Spears, Paula Abdul. There was the New York issue where we talked about the Harlem Renaissance. Spike Lee — one of my idols — asked me if he could be in it. He’d done advertising, you know? I remember him being like, “Yo, this is the deal. I’ve got to give you mad props. This is the dopest thing out right now, advertising-wise.”

We had big-time philosophers and literary figures, too. They were great. We wanted to mimic the experience of being in college and having your mind expanded, so we got writers like Bret Easton Ellis and Michael Cunningham on board. There was a whole Sex Ed issue plastered with musings from Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Žižek, a friend of a professor’s from college. I believe Jonathan Franzen was in there, too.

Jonathan Franzen, award-winning novelist and essayist: I gave hundreds of interviews between 1997 and 2003, almost all of them at the request of various publishers. One of them must have thought it was a good idea to talk to A&F. The fact that I apparently did (I don’t remember it) signifies nothing except that I felt grateful to my publishers.

Collins: We got a lot of weirdos, too. John Edward, the guy who talked to dead people. Chuck Palahniuk, who wrote Fight Club. At the time, it didn’t have the meathead reputation that it does now. It was legitimately looked at as this piece of anti-corporate, anti-capitalist art, the irony of which was just delightful given that we were a capitalist brand trying to sell polo shirts and $90 ripped jeans.

Abadsidis: The only guy who refused an interview was Donald Trump! I have a feeling his 90-year-old secretary had something to do with it. Though we were technically a magalog and did belong to the brand, our stuff was just really visionary. David Keeps, who was the editor of Details at the time, always defended the Quarterly as a real magazine and publicly said that we were doing more innovative stories than most “real” magazines at a time.

ASPIRATIONAL HOMOEROTICS

It’s no secret that the photography and creative direction of Weber and Shahid contained homoerotic undertones. Irreverent, minimal and moody, it was suggestive without being literal, spinning entire storylines into a single frame. At the same time, it was too idealized to be “real.” The queerness that their photos showed was, as Collins puts it, “aspirational,” meaning that like the mostly white, ab-riddled models instructed to sell cargo shorts by taking them off, they didn’t necessarily represent the full reality of what queerness actually was.

Still, the photos that the Quarterly published during its seven-year run did more to normalize and represent queerness and non-monogamy than any other mainstream brand at the time — weird, considering that Abercrombie’s target market was hegemonic suburbanites whose parents bred genetically pure golden retrievers and had cabins in Vail. Without these photos, the Quarterly might have read more as a minor-league Esquire or Ivy League MAD Magazine, but with them, it became one of the least-discussed, most under-appreciated items queer history.

Collins: Our editorial content — which almost functioned as a parody of so-called “Abercrombie people” — was always accompanied by this extremely beautiful photography that was also extremely queer. But it was never explicitly so. It was all this nudge, nudge, wink, wink stuff. I don’t know how you could miss it, though. The homoeroticism was so overt.

Abadsidis: You’d have had to have been blind not to consider the imagery homoerotic (though, it was really in the eye of the beholder). We had the Carlson twins posing on the cover and riding a motorcycle. We had a drag queen named Candis Cayne. There was a lesbian couple kissing at a wedding.

Kon: David Sedaris, Gus Van Sant, Gregg Araki, Avenue Q, Stan Lee, Peaches, Fischerspooner… you could teach a queer theory class with everyone we featured.

Abadsidis: At the same time, we never labeled anything as “gay” or “lesbian” or “queer.” We never came out and said, “Welcome to our gay magazine!” and we never had a meeting where we were like, “Okay, guys, let’s figure out how to make this thing gay.” It was more nonchalant. The imagery implied it without saying it.

Hampton Carney, A&F Quarterly spokesperson, 1999-2003: The message we were sending was clear: “You do you, whatever that is. Have fun!”

Abadsidis: That was a very 1990s thing.

Collins: There was a specific brand of Abercrombie gayness that got shown, though. The word that they always used to describe Abercrombie as a brand was “aspirational.” They didn’t want to make it like an everyday, normal-people brand. They wanted it to be associated with money, glamour and that WASP-y aesthetic. So all the gay raunch of it was presented within the context of what appeared to be a very square, nuclear family: white, wealthy and secure.

At the same time, that was really when same-sex marriage was kicking off as a political issue. I think you can see a commonality in how Abercrombie was essentially making an argument that you could be a normie and also be gay. That was a newish thing at the time (though I’m barely an expert as I’m not gay myself). Still, I can’t help but see a resonance between coming up with this clandestine content that normalized being gay at the same time this big political fight that was brewing.

Maybe being more forward about it would have come across as “too political.”

Abadsidis: Part of me wishes we’d gone a little further with being more outwardly queer, but I don’t think the time was right. Maybe with a braver CEO — no one at the time was brave enough to take on queerness or gay rights as a mainstream brand, including us — and that’s why few people remember the Quarterly as the sort of transcendent queer thing that it was.

Kon: It’s never been credited as such, but the Quarterly is really an item of gay history. I don’t think we were pushing a “gay” or “metrosexual” lifestyle on people as much as we were showing that it already existed, even out in Middle America. Perhaps that’s what made people uncomfortable. We took that thread of counterculture and taboo that ran through the imagery and continued it into the editorial content. We dealt with topics like drinking, drugs, religion, politics and sex. Again, these are issues young people dealt with daily, but were rarely editorialized.

At Vassar, there was a yearly party called The Homo Hop. It was one of the biggest parties of the year and leaned on Vassar’s history as a women’s college. I bring this up because, on the night of my freshman Homo Hop, I was instructed that each student had to do something sexually that they had never done, and one drug that they had never done. It wasn’t that you had to be gay, but you had to experience something that was new and different. I think that translated well into the Quarterly. Yes, there were a bunch of gay guys writing and shooting and drawing images. But we were simply trying to expose Cargo Short Brett to ideas, images, artists, books, writers and directors that he may have never heard of before. Our shared experiences would become his.

Collins: It was culture jamming, really.

Abadsidis: It was also very “college” to be fluid or experimental without labeling it. I think it’s safe to say that college is one of the gayest places there is in life, maybe not sexually, but definitely in terms of having your mind expanded about different types of people.

Carney: I was in a frat. I’d see fraternity brothers streaking across campus together. It was never a big deal. There are a lot more people in the middle of either extreme of sexuality than people talk about. We’re not one and 10 — we’re one through 10, if you will. That kind of stuff has always happened on college campuses, and that’s the kind of mentality we had around sex. We just happened to editorialize it really beautifully.

Collins: There’s a Barbara Kruger print that reminds me of the mood we were trying to capture: It reads: “You construct intricate rituals which allow you to touch the skin of other men.” That’s basically what Abercrombie & Fitch was. It was an intricate ritual that allowed sunkissed lacrosse players to metaphorically touch the skin of other men.

Carney: You know what’s funny, though? It was never the gay stuff people had a problem with. It was everything else.

LET THE CONTROVERSIES BEGIN

For almost every moment of its seven-year life, The Quarterly was a controversial publication. Parents, politicians and conservative-types didn’t appreciate its no-holds-barred approach to rampant fucking, and they could not, for the life of them, understand how such an adult magazine was making its way into the hands of their precious teens (who were probably jacking off to dad’s Playboys long before the Quarterly came along, but I digress). There was approximately one year — 1997 — where the amount of people it pissed off stayed below a critical mass, but after a certain somebody published a story that vaguely suggested underage kids drink, it was off to the races.

Abadsidis: We got in our fair share of trouble with Christian groups and concerned parents right off the bat. Let’s take one of the earlier issues — I believe it was Summer of 1998. It was my story. Basically, I suggested that people could do better than beer and that they should “indulge in some creative drinking.” There was one drink I made up called the “Brain Hemorrhage” and a few others you could play a drinking game with. We also included a spinner insert people could cut out.

None of it had anything to do with driving, of course, but the issue was called “On the Road.” It was a sort of beat-focused, Jack Kerouac thing, so some people interpreted that as us promoting drunk driving (though we did nothing of the sort). Also, the kid on the cover was underage. He was 16, if I remember correctly. Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) didn’t like that.

Karolyn Nunnallee, vice president of public policy for MADD: We had been really focused on underage drinking and had been instrumental in getting the country’s legal drinking age raised to 21. Then Abercrombie & Fitch comes out with this weird magazine that basically said, “Don’t go back to college drinking the usual beer. We’re going to show you a new way to drink.”

Not only did they have this drinking game, but they had recipes for these mixed drinks for young people to partake in. I was like, “Abercrombie & Fitch? Aren’t they in the clothing business?” What in the world were they doing? I mean, they were a high-end brand, not Walmart. Why would they take their focus off of clothing and put it toward alcohol? Were their clothes not good enough that year or something?

Needless to say, we weren’t happy with them. Curse words were handed out. We sent a letter to them and started a whole media campaign about it. We went on as many news media outlets as we possibly could with the story of how incensed we were.

Abadsidis: I was sure I was going to get fired over that. We had to remove the page with the spinner out of every single issue across the country. We apologized, of course, but it ended up backfiring against the protesters — that incident gave us so much publicity. It put us on the map. It also made us a target for conservative types. They hated us. After MADD, boycotts of Abercrombie started flaring up all over the place. That’s around the time we hired Hampton to do PR.

Carney: It was my job, at the time, to defend the brand. I’d go on talk shows like Entertainment Tonight or Today Show and explain away our latest controversy (there were a lot). It wasn’t hard, actually; each time, I’d give them what was more or less my go-to response: “It’s a beautiful publication intended for college-aged kids.” And that was the truth! It was way ahead of its time and was absolutely meant for people 18 and up.

Though not everyone saw it that way. The sex and nudity really got to people. A lot of them definitely thought we were making porn. That was the constant complaint: We were deliberately putting porn in the hands of young kids.

Lever: The Quarterly featured about the same level of nudity as a European yogurt commercial. Which is to say, a lot. It was a “clothing catalog” with almost no clothing. Of course [American] people thought it was pornographic!

Carney: Okay, sure — there were photos of like, six girls in bed with one guy and more than a few spreads that enthusiastically suggested naked non-monogamy — but it wasn’t porn. It was tasteful. And let me tell you — nothing we had in there was surprising to kids.

Abadsidis: The models ranged from 16 to 20. It was erotic. It was art. I don’t think there’s anything pornographic about the Quarterly unless you think that nudity, in and of itself, is pornographic.

Illinois Lieutenant Governor Corinne Wood did, apparently. In 1999, she called for a boycott of Abercrombie & Fitch because its “Naughty or Nice” holiday issue “contained nudity” and “even an interview with a porn star.” That porn star was none other than Jenna Jameson, who at the time was well on her way to becoming a household name. A so-called “child prodigy” occupied the neighboring page, sparking accusations that the Quarterly somehow intended to connect children to porn.

A cartoon of Mr. and Mrs. Claus experimenting with S&M across from the statement “Sometimes it’s good to be bad” didn’t help, nor did the “sexpert” who offered advice on “sex for three” and told readers that going down on each other in a movie theater was acceptable “just so long as you do not disturb those around you.”

The Illinois Coalition of Sexual Assault joined Wood’s boycott. Later that year, Michigan attorney general (and eventual governor) Jennifer Granholm sent a letter to Abercrombie complaining that the “Naughty or Nice” issue contained sexual material that couldn’t be distributed to minors under state law.

Carney: There were four states that tried to ban us after that. I remember Granholm. She was my arch-nemesis at the time — we really got into it. I respected where she was coming from, of course, but our whole thing was that we weren’t showing anything that wasn’t actually happening on college campuses. And I’d already made it pretty clear to the press that the magazine wasn’t for minors.

Also, it’s not like we were the only magazine talking about or showing sex. You could find all the exact same stuff in Cosmo or Playboy — it’s just that we were a clothing brand, and one whose major customer base just so happened to be teens and young adults. No one expected that from us. Brands weren’t “supposed” to be talking about sex period, let alone to teens and young adults. But we took it upon ourselves to pioneer a more open, honest view of it. That’s the wrinkle that made it so interesting.

We did come to an agreement with Granholm. We decided to wrap the magazine in plastic and make it available for purchase only to those over 18, that way, it’d be even more clear that we weren’t “selling porn to the underage.”

Kon: I believe it was one of the few times the company acquiesced.

Collins: Other than that, don’t remember getting any instruction from Savas, Mike or Sam to tone it down. It was kind of mutually assumed that we weren’t going to apologize for the sexual nature of our content. We knew we had to keep things sexy, as it were — that was our whole thing.

We weren’t deliberately trying to piss off people, but we were trying to push the envelope, and there was definitely an element of deliberate trolling of conservatives and Christian groups. It was a good thing if we pissed them off. It created the controversy that made the brand seem edgy and dangerous, which is what you want if you’re trying to appeal to young people.

Carney: We were also just showing real things that happened at college. And as anyone who’s been to college knows, it’s not just about reading and writing papers. It’s also about sex. Not only that, of course, but we’re sexual beings. We respond to images that are sexual. We were trying to take the stigma away from that and acknowledge that it’s not a bad thing to do.

But no matter how clear we made it, our stance on sex polarized people more and more. I could tell, because almost as soon as I started speaking on behalf of the magazine, strange things started to happen to me. I got stalkers. People left me messages saying I was going to hell and I’d have no afterlife. I got hate mail to my house. One person left a package containing their dirty, stained underwear at the front door of my apartment with a note saying they’d be “coming by later” to “talk to me about it.” I had to call the police on that one.

I was the face of the publication, so I got the vast majority of the harassment. But I didn’t mind. It was my job to take the fall, and I heard and respected every single person’s complaint and talked to them about it. Plus, for every message I got banishing me to hell, I got another from a journalist or a fan begging me to save a copy for them. People collected them. They really loved it, precisely because it was so sexual.

Abadsidis: Mike didn’t flinch about any of this stuff. He wanted to defend it because he could see it was working. We weren’t about to tone anything down (at the time).

Flash-forward to June 2001. The Twin Towers are still standing tall, tips are being frosted and Apple has just unleashed iTunes onto an unsuspecting populace. A&F Quarterly, now in its fourth year, is in hot water once again. Having survived a number of boycotts, lawsuits and controversies since its inception, it’s now in the midst of weathering another minor national conniption over its use of nudity.

Jeannine Stein, describing the Summer 2001 issue in an excerpt from a Los Angeles Times article called “Nudity? A&F Quarterly Has It Covered”: [It’s] explicit in ways that most catalogs and fashion magazines are not, and its use of male nudity is uncommon among general-interest publications. It features 280 pages of young, attractive men and women alone and together, in serious, romantic, sexual and party modes, wearing lots of A&F clothes, some A&F clothes and sometimes no clothes at all. Among the coffee-table book-ish photos by Bruce Weber is a man, covered only by a towel, surrounded by five women; a woman at the beach reclining body-to-body with three men; a back view of a naked man getting into a helicopter (we haven’t quite figured that one out yet); and a few topless females.

There are many naked butts and breasts.

Abadsidis: We also had photos of nude women in a fountain — which were inspired by Katharine Hepburn skinny-dipping at Bryn Mawr College — and a whole set dedicated to the Berkeley student that spent a day naked in class. It was par for the course for us, but even though we’d done the whole shrink-wrap and over-18 thing, people still felt it was too sexual for branded content.

In response, an unexpected alliance formed between cultural conservatives and anti-porn feminists to boycott Abercrombie & Fitch over the Summer 2001 issue of A&F Quarterly. According to Wikipedia, the offending issue included “photographs of naked or near-naked young people frolicking on the beach,” “top-naked young women and rear-naked young men on top of each other” and an “interview with porn star Ron Jeremy, who discussed performing oral sex on himself and using a dildo cast from his own penis.” Once again, Wood was at the helm.

David Crary, journalist, excerpt from a 2001 Associated Press article: Illinois Lt. Gov. Corinne Wood — a Republican who has been sparring with A&F since 1999 — announced the boycott campaign last week in Chicago. She has recruited a diverse mix of supporters more familiar with facing off against each other than with working together.

Wood, writing on her website in 2001: A&F is glamorizing indiscriminate sexual behavior that unsophisticated teenagers are not possibly equipped to weigh against the dangers of date rape, unplanned pregnancies and sexually transmitted disease.

Michelle Dewlen, president of the Chicago chapter of the National Organization for Women, speaking at one of Woods’ press conferences in 2001: It’s not a catalog. It’s a soft porn magazine.

Rev. Bob Vanden Bosch, head of Concerned Christian Americans, as quoted by the AP: It’s very important for people to get involved. The exploitation of sex and young people in A&F’s catalog isn’t only atrocious but also a psychological molestation of their teenage customers.

Quart: It was predatory in a few ways, really. One was that it confused the corporate identity of Abercrombie and the advertising with the editorial. It preyed on young consumers not understanding the difference between editorial content and sales content. Back then it led, I saw, to a way that girls were objectifying themselves and commodifying themselves. It ultimately led to boys also objectifying themselves and commodifying themselves — not to the same extent, but far more than they were when I started reporting Branded a little more than two decades ago.

I have the stats on the male body image dysmorphia at the time in Branded (which has only worsened). Then, male body shaming and “manorexia” was on the rise, for the first time on a mass scale. It couldn’t help for the most popular brand at the time to have a dedicated giant glossy magazine filled with pictures of male teenagers with zero body fat half undressed.

Abadsidis: I mean, sure, as much as any advertising does. It wasn’t like we were leading that charge. Any effect on self-image was certainly unintentional, but I do think it did make people want to be athletic. You definitely saw a lot of guys trying to look like that during that period, especially as time went on. If you look at the first few issues, the guys aren’t that built. Ashton Kutcher was actually in the second one — that was his first big break — and they get increasingly more cut from there. That whole era is when men’s body issues started to come out.

Lever: I’d also submit that all this was controversial because it was pre-internet. The internet mainstreamed sexual content in a way that makes A&F or other “scandalous” ad campaigns (like the 2003 Gucci ad with the model’s pubes shaved into the shape of a G) seem quaint, even obsolete. Like, do you remember that Eckhaus Latta ad a few years ago that scandalized people for five minutes because it showed people having real (albeit pixelated) sex? Neither does anyone else.

SLAVOJ ŽIŽEK TEACHES SEX ED

Always filled with philosophy, social theory and intellectually minded topics that likely soared over the heads of most Abercrombie consumers, the Quarterly outdid itself in the Fall of 2003 with its penultimate issue. A gorgeous romp of summer-spirited abandon accompanied by some delightfully incoherent, Dada-like musings from Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Žižek, it connected a “back-to-school” theme with a pretty clear directive to fuck. Yet, the information it presented was actually rather safe and tame, a reality which confused and irritated Quarterly staff. Their content was legit, so why was everyone up in arms?

Abadsidis: The “Sex Ed” issue was the second to last one that we did. It got some of the most criticism, and was supposedly the reason everything was finished. I literally had stuff in there cited straight from the University of Michigan’s freshman student handbook on sexual conduct, and it still pissed people off! Then, of course, there was Žižek.

Lever: Žižek identifies as a radical leftist. He’s very famous for his work on cultural theory and critical theory. He analyzes all kinds of topics in his signature, impenetrable — but also approachable — style. And when I think of him, I think of his very distinctive manner of speaking, that some people have described as being on cocaine constantly. But he’s definitely kind of a cult figure, a favorite of people who consider themselves highbrow, but also fun.

He’s really touted as the greatest anti-capitalist of our time, and yet, here he was, “sexually educating” the mean girls and boys of your high school, in a brand catalog whose entire goal was to ensnare young people for the purpose of selling them distressed jeans.

According to the magazine’s foreword, the editor wrote to Žižek and said this: “Dear Slavoj, enclosed please find the images for our back to school issue. We’ve never had a philosopher write the text for our images before, so write what you like. We’re looking for that Karl Marx meets Groucho Marx thing you do so well. Thanks, Savas.”

Abadsidis: I love Slavoj. He was friends with one of my professors from school. He only had 24 hours to write this, so we actually sent someone to London where he was to drop off the images we wanted him to write text for. They hung out for a day and then flew back with what he’d written.

Lever: It was basically a series of insane, absurdist ramblings pasted over really hot naked people.

Žižek, excerpt from A&F Quarterly’s 2003 Sex Ed issue: Back to school thus means forget the stupid spontaneous pleasures of summer sports, of reading books, watching movies and listening to music. Pull yourself together and learn sex.

Lever: I mean, that’s like the first episode of every teen TV show, where these three nerdy boys start high school and they’re like, “Okay, we’re going to be cool this year guys. We’re going to lose our virginities.” It’s very formulaic. But there’s more.

Žižek: The only successful sexual relationship occurs when the fantasies of the two partners overlap. If the man fantasizes that making love is like riding a bike and the woman wants to be penetrated by a stud, then what truly goes on while they make love is that a horse is riding a bike… with a fantasy like that, who needs a personality?

Lever: The “go learn sex at school” part really struck a nerve with conservatives. But I don’t think it was that transgressive. Fourteen-year-olds are receiving messages to have sex all the time — what did it matter if some Eastern European anti-capitalist was hitting them over the head with it through the pages of a polo shirt advert?

Abadsidis: Fox News got involved, if I remember correctly. That was one of the few times I actually got pissed off about how an issue was being covered. I mean, the information in there was handed out to students by an actual university. Half the issue was quotes from this really influential philosopher. But for some reason, people really took offense to the language of it. That whole year [2003] was just a bad one for us.

THE LAST HORNY CHRISTMAS

For its final trick, the Quarterly released a holiday issue featuring 280 pages of “moose, ice hockey, chivalry, group sex and more.” It had oral sex, group sex, sex in a river, Christmas sex and pretty much every other type of sex you could think of, all which followed an earnest letter from Abadsidis which read: “We don’t want much this year, but in keeping with the spirit, we’d like to ask forgiveness from some of the people we’ve offended over the years. If you’d be so kind, please offer our apologies to the following: the Catholic League, former Lt. Governor Corrine Wood of Illinois, the Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund, the Stanford University Asian American Association, N.O.W.”

But the issue didn’t really hit. By fall 2003, Abercrombie was involved in a number of lawsuits and protests related to exclusion and discrimination, which left people cold despite the inviting warmth of a crackling, fireside circle jerk (a Weber offering which, I’m told, can be found on page 88 of the final issue).

Cole Kazdin, journalist, writing in a 2003 Slate article called “Have Yourself a Horny Little Christmas”: The challenge for me, when masturbating with my friends to the nubile nudies in the Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, is trying not to think about serious things like racial diversity; it tends to kill the mood. But because most of the models in the catalog are white and because a lawsuit has been filed against the clothing retailer for allegedly discriminating against a Black woman who applied for a job at the store, it’s hard for the issue not to rear its nonsexy head. [In 2004, Abercrombie also agreed to pay $40 million to settle a lawsuit that accused the company of promoting whites over Latino, Black, Asian-American and female applicants.]

Collins: As a brand, Abercrombie did a lot of things that were quite gross. I’m sure you remember when they came out with these T-shirts with these racist stereotype characters on them. You would just see it in the catalog and just be like, “Jesus Christ.” It was awful and stupid and self-defeating, just tone deaf. And we just couldn’t figure out how no one at the company saw the problem with it.

Stagg, excerpt from Sleeveless: Kids in my high school wore shirts that read, “Wok-n-Bowl” and “Wong Brothers Laundry Service: Two Wongs Can Make It White,” accompanied by cross-eyed propaganda-style cartoons. If you weren’t part of the in-crowd (and white), A&F was oppressive. Non-jocks made their own anti-A&F T-shirts, using the brand as a catchall for exclusionary, competitive behavior and old-fashioned bullying.

Carney: That stuff was indefensible, really. Those were the darkest days of my job — listening to calls and reading letters about how offensive those shirts were. Even though the Quarterly was quite separate from the brand and we had no influence over what they did or what clothes they designed, we did still have to print their stuff at the back of the magazine. It was pretty uncomfortable.

Stagg: By 2006, Mike Jeffries’ most controversial public statement on sex appeal was really just saying what we were all thinking: “Are we exclusionary? Absolutely.” Those remarks were followed by lawsuit after lawsuit, mostly involving staffing discrimination. An announcement about the store refusing to carry anything over a size 10 reportedly marked a noticeable decrease in sales.

Abadsidis: There were a lot of underlying problems at the company. The amount of negative press Abercrombie was getting was getting silly. No matter what we did, we’d end up in the news, especially if it was related to the Quarterly. After so many bad news incidents, it just felt done, like its moment had passed. It was bound to crash at some point.

Gina Piccalo, excerpt from the Los Angeles Times: Clothing retailer Abercrombie & Fitch has pulled its controversial in-store catalogs after outraged parents, conservative Christian groups and child advocates threatened a boycott over material they said was pornographic. However, a company spokesman said the move had nothing to do with the public outcry. The catalogs were pulled to make room near cash registers for a new Abercrombie & Fitch fragrance.

Abadsidis: People like to think that the boycotts and Christian protests had something to do with it, but that wasn’t the case at all. By 2003, Abercrombie’s stock was low — something to do with ordering too much denim. The store was having negative sales for the first time. There was the line in the New York Times, who covered our demise, that Mike was “bored” with it.

Collins: We had no warning. We were all there one day, and the next, we were gone.

Lever: The Quarterly was a relic of a different time. I feel like it could never have been made after 2008 for so many reasons — economic, and cultural and political. It would just never fly. It was made before feminism pervaded everything, at a time where you could be completely flagrant about gross patriarchal shit and still get away with it.

It was kind of like this last gasp of a certain conception of what’s desirable — a very hegemonic coolness exemplified by white Ivy League frat kids who got fucked up the night before their philosophy class. That doesn’t have much currency anymore. Abercrombie kept that image on life support until its last gasp.

Now, 20 years later, what’s cool is not that. What’s cool is to have depression and ADD. The ideal is out. The real is in. And the Quarterly, having always existed in the liminal space between, is neither here nor there.

EPILOGUE

In 2008, Abercrombie resurrected the Quarterly in the U.K. for a limited-run special edition to celebrate the success of its European stores. The original team was reunited — Abadsidis, Shahid and Weber — with the hopes that Britain’s more “open-minded approach to culture and creativity” would provide a welcoming substrate on which to re-grow their original ideas of sexual liberation. The issue, “Return to Paradise,” was “more mature” than its American cousin. It was well-received — aside from the usual protests about sex and nudity — but it wasn’t continued.

Two years later, in 2010, the Quarterly was revived again, this time as a promotional element for Abercrombie’s Back-to-School 2010 marketing campaign, which bore the unfortunate title of “Screen Test.” The lead story Abercrombie put out on its website sounded like a cross between American Idol and a gay porn shot: “The staff of A&F Studios opens up to editorial to explain the steps the division takes to find new, young, hot boys. The cattle-call approach to herd young talent ends with the best of the beefcake earning a screen test that ‘could be the flint to spark the trip to the star.’”

Bruce Weber would be shooting, of course. This would become especially ominous after he was accused of a series of casting-couch style sexual assaults by 15 male models beginning in 2017. According to the accusations, he subjected them to sexually manipulative “breathing exercises” and inappropriate touching, insinuating that he could help their careers if they complied.

Arick Fudali, a lawyer at the Bloom Firm, which represents five of Weber’s alleged victims, declined to confirm or deny whether any of the alleged assaults happened on a Quarterly shoot. If they did, they’re not prosecutable as sexual assaults in New York. Because the states’s statute of limitations on reporting rape is only three years, anything that happened during the Quarterly’s run wouldn’t count toward a sexual assault charge (unless a minor was involved, which Fudali also declined to confirm).

No one I spoke with for this story remembers seeing, hearing or experiencing anything like what the allegations against Weber describe, but some expressed concern over how they might affect the legacy the Quarterly leaves behind. “The accusations are pretty grim,” Collins told me. “You feel for the people who are put in that position. People had power over them. It just makes you think, ‘Was any of this worth it?’ Not really, if people were getting hurt.”

As such, it’s difficult to conclude with definitive sign-off about the Quarterly’s legacy. Either it was a bastion of progressive and transversive sexuality that simultaneously trolled and nourished the very audience it sought to mine, or it was the product of darkness and pain. Either way, Sockel sums it up just right: “The Quarterly was discontinued in 2003, after the American Decency Association boycotted photos of doe-eyed bare-assed jocks in prairies and glens,” he wrote in his recollection. “It was nice while it lasted.”

[hunnywrites]

Arcade Dreams: Chapter Fifteen

Summary: There’s a new girl working at the Palace Arcade and Hawkins’ Family Video. Billy can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual. No matter what everyone else seems to think.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: This is a little bit of a filler plot, but there is some more ground work being laid out for a future plot line. I told you guys Teddi’s dad would be important! And in about three more chapters some big stuff is gonna be happening. Enjoy!

It was late. Teddi had come home from the arcade a few hours ago and she was trying her damndest to sleep. There was just too much on her mind. Even more so now. When she had come home her parents had been awake and waiting for her. Immediately she started panicking that she was in trouble. That they had found out that she’d snuck out on New Year’s, or that she had had Billy over or that she’d gotten detention. But her mom seemed too happy. Which was almost even more confusing. 

Apparently with her father’s new promotion to the mayor’s office came a big raise. And so now her parents wanted to move to the nicer side of Hawkins. Three doors down from the Harrington’s, in fact. It wasn’t much of a discussion either. They were moving and that was that. Teddi shouldn’t have been that surprised. This had happened before in New York. Her dad had his shitty construction job, he’d gotten his promotion, and he moved the family into this flashy house upstate. But the fact that this was happening again and so soon really weirded Teddi out. There was something going on, she just couldn’t figure out what. 

Then there was also the Billy situation. Walking in on him and Cheryl. She really didn’t like to think about it. Anytime she did she got that weird fluttery feeling in her stomach that she hated. Eventually she realized that she also felt a little jealous. It was impossible not to have a crush on Billy. Even with his bad attitude. She’d had one since the moment he’d walked into the video store for the first time almost a month ago. Had it really only been a month? It almost felt like she’d been hanging out with Billy for years. 

Teddi let out a huff, turning over in bed and staring up at the little glow in the dark stars that she’d stuck to her ceiling. Billy. There was probably some alternate universe out there where everything was different the two of them were dating. There was a chemistry there. She felt comfortable around him. She knew her cheeks got all warm any time he would flirt with her. But that was the thing. Billy flirted with everyone. And he didn’t date. And Teddi wasn’t really up for random hookups in the girl’s locker room with someone she wasn’t dating. It was like all of the puzzle pieces were there, but they couldn’t seem to make them fit together. 

She felt badly about avoiding him. It was the same thing that he was constantly doing that drove her crazy. But she just didn’t want to deal with that problem right now. Not with everything else going on. So she skipped her last period all together so she could avoid a run in with him in the parking lot after school. And when she was at work and she heard the rumble of the Camaro’s engine she ran to hide in the break room and told Keith to cover for her (which he had gotten a big kick out of). But now with the news her parents had dropped on her, Billy was the only person she wanted to talk to. 

The red numbers of her alarm clock were flashing 12:26 AM. It was a Friday night. There was a chance that he was home and still awake. Or out at the lake, probably with Cheryl. Teddi let out a sigh. She threw her covers aside and grabbed her boots and her puffy coat and gracefully slid her window open and out and into the snow. Billy’s house was about a two minute walk from hers. Shorter if she hurried like she was tonight to get out of the cold. 

There was a light on in his bedroom. Thank god. It was dim, but Teddi took it as a good sign. She felt a little badly for dropping in unannounced. But at least he was alone. Teddi peered into his window to see Billy lounged out on his bed with a Playboy in hand. She rolled her eyes and knocked on the window. Billy jumped slightly, his eyes widening a little when he spotted Teddi. He tossed the magazine aside and crawled over to the window before opening it for her. 

“Reading the articles?” she asked.

Billy rolled his eyes. “The hell are you doing here?” okay, so he seemed a little annoyed with her. She could understand that. But he was letting her in. That’s what mattered. Teddi expertly crawled into his room, much more easily than she had when she had been drunk, and plopped down onto his bed. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” she said simply. Billy moved back to his original spot on his bed and crossed his arms. If this had been any other day this situation would feel totally normal. Hanging out in Billy’s room while they listened to music, Neil and Susan none the wiser. But now Teddi was super aware that she was alone with Billy on his bed. And all she could think about was walking in on him kissing Cheryl Burns.

Billy watched Teddi fidgeting nervously at the end of the bed. So much so that it was starting to make him feel nervous. He scratched the back of his neck. “...Is everything okay?” he asked her warily. 

“I’m moving.” she all but blurted out. 

Billy’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Moving? Back to New York? Teddi had only been in Hawkins for a couple of months and now suddenly they were up and leaving? “...What do you mean you’re moving? Where are you moving to?” he asked with a frown. He felt that anger bubbling back. Like when Neil and Susan had announced they were moving to Hawkins. That one shred of happiness was being ripped away from him yet again. 

Teddi fiddled with the end of the t-shirt she’d been wearing to bed. “Apparently Steve and I are gonna be neighbors.” 

Billy let out a soft, relieved laugh. “Jesus. Is that all, Weird Girl? I thought something bad was happening.” he was pretty sure Teddi was the only person that could think moving to the yuppie side of town could be a bad thing. 

Teddi let out a groan and fell backwards onto the bed. “You don’t get it,” she huffed. “There’s something weird going on here with my dad. This is exactly what happened in New York when I was little. The construction job, the promotion, getting all cozy with the mayor. It’s all too similar to be a coincidence, you know?” she paused. “...You think maybe he’s doing something illegal?” she asked, looking over at Billy.

“Are you asking me if I think there’s some sorta secret mob activity going on in that tacky ass mall they’re building? I’m gonna have to say no,” Teddi only pursed her lips. Billy chuckled. “I think you’re just being a little too paranoid there, Nancy Drew.” he teased. And he was probably right. Teddi had read one too many mystery novels growing up and if was starting to get to her. That was all. 

The two fell into a somewhat comfortable silence before Billy finally spoke up. “How come you’ve been avoiding me all day?” and just like earlier today, Teddi was back to avoiding eye contact with him. She hadn’t really been expecting him to bring it up honestly. When she didn’t answer Billy let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I know that I said I’d stop messing around with Cheryl-”

Teddi shook her head and turned to face him. “No, no. Look, you’re a big boy. You’re allowed to date or whatever with whoever you want, okay? I just want you to be with someone that makes you happy. And Cheryl only seems to make you happy for...you know...a couple of minutes.” she said with a small giggle. 

Billy had to admit he felt a little disappointed by her answer. He’d sort of been hoping Teddi would admit the whole thing had made her feel just a little jealous or something. If she initiated things between him it didn’t make him pathetic or weak, right? Instead he smirked down at her. “Oh trust me, it’s a lot longer than a couple of minutes.” 

Teddi felt her cheeks grow hot as she smiled, biting down on her lip. “Whatever, Hargrove. You know what I mean,” Billy couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of Teddi’s giggle. “...What do you think you’re gonna do after school?” she suddenly asked, propping her head up on her hand. 

“What, you mean like college?” Billy asked with a scoff. College definitely wasn’t for him. He hadn’t put enough effort into his school work to get into any decent school on top of the fact that the idea was completely unappealing aside from the parties. 

“Not necessarily,” Teddi shrugged. “Like...in a perfect world, if you could do anything you wanted once you graduate, what would you do?” 

He didn’t even need to think about it. “I’d go back to California.” 

“Really?” she asked. “Even if you could go anywhere in the whole world?”

“In a heartbeat,” he nodded. “I’d give anything to go back.” Teddi didn’t miss the longing look in Billy’s eyes as he thought of home. She was a little jealous. Sure, she missed New York and the city, but it was clear she didn’t miss it anywhere near as much as Billy missed California. You could see the home sickness all over his face. 

Teddi smiled softly at him. “What do you think you miss the most?” she asked. 

“The beach,” it was clear there was no contest. “I used to spend all my time down there. Me and my friends would have bonfires. Real ones. Not like the ones they have here in that shitty steel mill. I had this spot under the boardwalk where I’d bring girls,” he smirked. Teddi smiled and rolled her eyes. “And I’d go surfing. There was always something to do back home. Even if my dad was being a dick and locked my car in the garage. It’s not like here.”

Teddi sat up. “You went surfing? Big, bad Billy Hargrove?” part of her could picture it. She could see that California surfer boy hidden under all the winter clothes. She could picture his hair a few shades lighter from the sun. She could notice the slowly fading tan. But at the same time, Billy Hargrove on a surfboard might have been something that she needed to see to believe.

“I was the best,” that signature cocky grin of his was back. He leaned back against the wall and smiled. “I can’t wait ‘til I get to see the ocean again. Once I leave Hawkins I’m never coming back.” 

“Maybe I’ll go to California one day,” Teddi mused. “I’ve never even seen the ocean.”

“Wait, what?” Billy’s eyes widened and he shook his head almost like he head misheard her. “How is that even fucking possible?” 

Teddi laughed softly. “I lived upstate! It was practically just...yuppie Hawkins. I’ve actually only ever been to New York and Hawkins. We never took family vacations or anything.” There had been a lake a few miles from her house that had what was probably the closest thing to a beach she’d ever been to. It had really small patches of sand and a dock that all the kids liked to jump off of. But she knew it wasn’t anything close to a real beach. 

Billy scoffed again. “You’re definitely going to California.”

“Oh, so we’re going together now?” 

“It’s not like you have anything else planned.” on the surface it sounded like some other sassy comment of his. But the fact that Billy was offering to take Teddi back to San Diego, to the place he clearly loved most on Earth, spoke volumes for how far they had come. Teddi almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure this wasn’t all just a dream. 

“...Do you believe in fate?” Teddi asked after a small moment of silence. 

Billy rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go…”

Teddi playfully slapped his leg. “I’m serious. Do you?”

Billy was quiet, mulling the question over for a bit before he finally shook his head. “No. ‘Cause life’s way too fucking depressing.” he muttered. He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his pack of cigarettes. 

“I mean...true,” Teddi said with a sigh. “But don’t you think you and I becoming friends is like...weird? Like the universe meddling in our lives sort of weird?” Billy only raised an eyebrow as he took a drag of his cigarette. Teddi turned to face him, crossing her legs and holding up her hands. “Okay like listen, aside from the...depressing similarities in our lives. We’re totally different people, you know? Like, I wonder if there’s some sort of cosmic reason behind all of this.” 

Billy watched Teddi with an amused look. Sure, it was unusual that he’d ever become friends with someone like Teddi. She liked all of that nerdy shit that Max and her friends liked and he hated. But it wasn’t that weird.

“How can it be so weird if we’re sister signs?” he asked with a grin.

Teddi blinked wildly. “Wha- how do you know we’re sister signs?”

“You told me when you were drunk.”

She grumbled. “...That sounds like something I’d do.”

Billy chuckled and shook his head. “You wanna know what I think?” he asked.

Teddi gave him an unamused look. “That I watch too many movies?” she asked.

He grinned. “Bingo,” Teddi visibly deflated at his comment. “Alright, alright. Let’s say for argument's sake that you’re right. What would the big cosmic reason be?” he asked.

Teddi thought for a moment. “...I don’t know,” she huffed. Billy let out a snort. “What if we’re supposed to figure out whatever shady business my dad’s been up to or something?”

“What are we, the Scooby Gang now?” he asked with a laugh.

“I have the van already,” Teddi grinned. “All we need is a dog.”

“Not sure if I’m committed enough for a dog just yet.” he joked. He held out his cigarette in offering to Tedd. She shook her head. 

“Can’t. My dad shit a fit the other night. My mom told him I came home smelling like smoke.” she said with an eye roll. 

Billy knew that whatever happened hadn’t been as casual as she was trying to convey. She had told him that things had calmed down at home ever since her dad’s promotion. But Billy also knew that guys like their dads could still be unpredictable. Teddi had told him that Chief Hopper had come into the video store about a week before to ask her if things were okay at home. He got why she lied, really he did. But he wished that she would fess up. She seemed pretty sure that a guy like Hopper would actually help. And the world wouldn’t really be missing out if a guy like Greg Larsson was locked up. 

But he wouldn’t pry. Neither of them ever pried. “...Everything okay?” he asked.

Teddi shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Just the same usual shit. Nothing I can’t handle.” and that was that. They would drop the subject. 

“You workin’ tomorrow?” he asked, putting his cigarette out in the nearly full ashtray on his nightstand. 

Teddi shot him a knowing look. “What do you think?” 

Billy pulled a face. “I mean at the arcade. Neil and Susan are going off for some work conference of his or something and I’m stuck with Max. She wanted to rent some movies and have that El girl over again and I am not dealing with a sleepover on my own.”

“So are you asking me to come over and help you control girl’s night?” she asked with a pleased looking smile. 

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Teddi. You in?” 

She smiled and nodded. “I’m in. It’s my night off from the arcade, but I gotta work at the pool tomorrow afternoon. I’ll call you after my shift. I should probably go though and at least try to sleep,” she grumbled. She crawled over to the window, glaring back at Billy. “And no staring at my ass while I climb out.”

Billy smirked, placing his hands behind his head. “I make no promises, Larsson.” 

Teddi rolled her eyes and muttered out an “ass” before crawling out the window (Billy definitely checked out her ass) and quietly sliding it shut behind her. Billy’s smirk faded a little. Christ was he in deep. 

[subloganrights]

A list of prompts...

...from the asks of my old sanders sides smut blog that I will never get around to writing for one reason or another, so, feel free to take them and use them in whatever way you want. (And feel free to tag me too)

[Sorry if any of these prompts are yours, yes some are very old, but I’ve either had no inspiration for them, dislike the ship for it now (in the case of prinxiety prompts), I simply have been unable to write them, or I’ve got something very similar already in the works]

prompt: patton x virgil with a daddy kink and some spanking? maybe patton punishing him for being bad or talking back-- or for teasing him to much. (i love the headcanons where patton is secretly kinky and that his entire personality changes in bed--) this is my first time asking for a prompt on a smut blog so sorry if its to kinky (or not kinky enough-- )

Prompt: Virgil taking care of Patton, not necessarily because Patton needs it, but because Virgil wants to. Virgil kissing, cuddling, praising, and loving on Patton (NSFW). Maybe body worship?

Prompt: Virgil accidentally bursting out to Roman: "I just had the weirdest dream about you and now i can’t stop imagining what you’d look like naked"

“Tie my jacket around your waist? Gross-! Just because you couldn’t hold it doesn’t mean I have to get my clothes soiled, too.” Virgil is the one who pissed himself, he washing his jacket or something already so he asked for Roman's jacket.

Prompt: “If you hadn’t drank so much everytime we go somewhere, you wouldn’t have had this problem…” if you’re up for it maybe Princiety? Thank you! I love your writing so much ❤️

Prompt: Sugardaddy au, Moxiety - Virgil is an art major at college and he wants to become an art teacher, but it's really hard for him because of his anxiety. He has a job that doesn't pay too well, but it's okay and he does art commissions for money, but he doesn't sleep or eat enough and is constantly stressed. So when he meets Patton and they get to know each other, Patton offers to be his Sugardaddy, but Virgil refuses. He always has been always will be. Patton continues to insist.

oneshot: virgil goes to see roman in a show and roman sneaks him backstage and dresses him in a costume and fucks virgil in it and makes him cum multiple times

Prompt: so Idk if you've looked at the omorashi tag recently put there us a post ralking about 'voodoo bladder control' and I was wondering if you could write a fic witg roman controlling virgil's bladder all day and V just losing it because "oh my God roman pleaseeee" but he can't do anything cause the group is spending time together and virgil is so embarrassed. I hope this makes sense, also love your blog btw it's amazing💙💙

Prompt: Three of the Sides tied down, vibrating cock rings on each of them. The one Side not tied up is dominating them all, teasing them further and further till all of them are begging messes. Each one tied down trying to please the dom the most so that they could finally cum.

Plz write a fic (or hc you choose fam) of the dom pat wanting sub Virge to scream for him. I beg💜

Fic prompt: strong Patton and needy verge. Virgil's a jittery mess and he needs something but getting off alone isn't helping. Que Pat walking in on the writhing whining mess that is virgil on the bed and just instantly picks him up. Of course this causes him to wrap his legs around the elder side. Long story short pat fucking him hard up against the wall is exactly what he needs 💜

Prompt: Remy and a side of your choosing indulging in some mild bondage and somnopholia

Prompt anon here sorry I haven't been online until now. I'm used to people /wanting/ vague prompts so I'm sorry for that. Maybe some moxiety with Virgil asking/begging Patton to do something and getting told to do it himself. (I.e., wanting to be fucked and ending up riding Patton and doing the work etc)

Prinxiety Prompt: "You look so helpless. How does it feel not having the upper hand?" When Virgil decides that he's gonna top Roman, and Roman talks a big game about how Virgil don't break him but uhh...... He breaks

Hello again! I’m the somnophilia Logince anon. Okay so maybe Logan and Roman are cuddling and then Roman ‘falls asleep’ and somehow tells (maybe Morse code or something) Logan that he wants to do this so Logan just sucks roman off and whispering ‘please don’t wake up’

Can you do a fic where Patton makes Virgil wear a vibrator and has a control for it and loves to set it off at random times?... Sometimes even in public. He does it when he doesn't listen to him. Virgil tries not to be turned on or react buuuut it doesn't work.

OH OKAY basically Logan and Roman are arguing about who can do things better and it goes from “i can make decisions better than you” to “at least I’m better at kissing” and then all the way to “i ride dick better than anyone” and it’s very sexually and frustration charged but ends happily post orgasms

prompt: Patton taking Virgil's virginity and it just being really soft and sweet 💕

Then could you do some logince knifeplay? Like power bottom Logan riding Roman who’s tied up and he’s using the (dull sided) knife and saying stuff like “Be still, we wouldn’t want to cut up that pretty face of yours.” And “How defenseless you look, a daring prince in the face of danger, moaning and whining for more.”

Omo prinx anon - I just really like the idea of Virgil flipping it around on usually dom roman, both of them surprised at how much they enjoy it. I’m new to omo? So I’m not sure. But maybe some light restraints? Praise/degradation? Roman being the bigger stronger one but Virgil is still completely in control?

Virgil and Patton go out to the mall, and Virgil waits too long to go to the bathroom, and the nearest one is out of order.

Fic: Patton making Virgil his pretty kitty, complete with a tail, ears, and a collar.

Prompt: Logan stressed out by school/finals/homework that one of the others fuck him to relax him enough to sleep.

Hcs or Prompt. Roman and Vergil sharing ice cream. Vergil flicks a spoonful of ice cream on Roman's shirt. say "Guess we gotta remove that shirt." Roman then smears a spoonful of ice cream down Vergil's cheek and across his shoulder. He then licks and sucks his way back up to vergil's mouth.

Yee! A few I have: Virgil gets scared/anxious and doesn’t realize it but he wets himself out of fear? (Could also work for Patton too) Or, on a lighter note, Roman or Patton giggling so hard they wet themselves. :3 (I blame my friend for that last one). Do with them what you wish my pal. -DA

If requests are open, is it possible for you to write a fake-rape prinxiety fic? Consensual non consent or whatever, with dom Virgil? ~ 💛

So um I'm not a fan of omo but prompt: Patton reminding everyone to stay hydrated and when they don't listen, Patton going all Dom on them forcing them to drink water and then things get messy and omo ensues

Logince and some accidental bondage + some sleepy sex (waking up to a blowjob and being so tangled in the sheets that they're technically restrained)

I'd die for some Remy getting recked, probably by Roman after he was done of the other's pettiness. Basically the prince trying to tame the brat (?) - Cal

when you have a chance could you do something with virgil getting wrecked, maybe by deciet and sleep, maybe have him cry alittle? Thanks you

Prompt: Roman and Logan deciding to shop online and the first thing to pop up on Romans computer is porn. Graphic porn. They decide to... recreate it - new ask sender whom you can call Louise

roman having a collar that says property of virgil or summin, and virgil finds it and ro is embarrassed but virge loves it!! also like. us petplay enthused fanders are having a field week

Prompt: Roman in a skirt in a train, Logan is with him. Ends up fucking him in public while on the train with a few people here and there in the car.

It's slightly odd but like, reverse daddy kink where Virgil is the one who likes being called "Daddy", along with bondage and a Pat being very loud and whimpery. You can choose the situation

[queerlyglittering]

LETTER BOY UPDATE

ok! This is long overdue lmao. but until the other day I was feeling a bit mopey and sad and also just generally tired and didn’t wanna talk about it BUT THEN  E X T R E M E L Y  LONG POST AHEAD

so lemme see where I last left off re: Letter Boy.... ok so like, to recap: there for a while we’d barely been talking. He didn’t have time to write to me most of the time, and then half the time when we did write to each other our letters kept getting lost in the mail, etc etc. I know I’d been like pretty obsessive over the whole letter-writing thing for a while so I thought I’d been pushing him away and like at one point I wrote him a goodbye letter? Like I was really out here like “I’m so sorry for bothering you so much, I’ll leave you alone now” like what sort of passive-aggressive bitchy monster lmao. And then eventually I was like nah fuck that, that’s not ok and I’m not leaving things like that, so I wrote him an apology and we kinda got back to talking a bit. And then he finally wrote me back! And his letter was deeply personal and emotional and I cried! He came out as ace! He told me he loved me! The absolute drama of it all! (Which it turns out, at that point he didn’t mean it in terms of like, romantic love, just like... he really cared about me as a person and was glad that he felt comfortable to write about his experiences re: being ace to me and it was sort of cathartic. BUT THEN!) So I wrote back almost immediately, telling him that I loved him too and that he was valid and shit lmao. That was all back in late May/early June I think... tbh I don’t remember what happened over the summer, lemme go back and reread our messages? b/c I know neither of us has physically written to the other since then.  Ok so we messaged a bit about potentially meeting up at a Pride festival, either there in Houston or up in Dallas, but the timing just generally didn’t work out in our favor for either event, so we wound up not going. And then we kinda sporadically messaged each other here and there, usually when he was stressed with school or I was stressed with work, etc, but we barely talked off and on for a couple months. Then I started my current job, and my sleep cycle got outta whack for a few weeks, and that’s when things started to get interesting again lmao

ok so sometime near the end of August, he had like a minor depressive episode or something in the middle of the night and messaged me at like 4 am saying he felt “gross and sad” and I slept through that because it was Saturday but I wound up waking up at like 6:30 out of habit from getting up for work, and I ended up calling him and we talked for a while and I vented about some stuff in my life too and then we both went back to sleep lmao. And after that things got a little more active in terms of communication; like y’all know me, I’m a Needy Bitch, so of course I wound up messaging him like once every couple days or so whenever I started to miss him and needed Attention. Like it kinda started with a tarot reading I got, just a standard past/present/future 3-card reading, but she pulled the Lovers for my present, so I mean.... and basically she said something about there being a person in my life whom I had feelings for, and who reciprocated those feelings, but there was a communications disconnect, and the relationship was getting to a point where it could begin to go stale, and that we shouldn’t block ourselves off from progress. After that reading I reached out and messaged him again, and we ended up literally speaking every day for a week. Like I think I’d made a post about that on here about not messaging him for the 8th day in a row and thought I was exaggerating but then I went back and counted and IT ACTUALLY WAS THE 8TH DAY, WOW AUDREY, YOU’RE OFFICIALLY ANNOYING. So I tried to get better about leaving him alone lmao but I started messaging him a bunch of stuff about my singing, because my old community had a brief resurgence in September. and he said he wanted to sing something with me someday and I’m 🥰🥰

So then at one point I had mentioned coming down to Houston for the weekend of the SFA/Sam Houston State game (which was last weekend, 10/5-6) with my friend, and ditching the game to hang out with him instead. I kinda let the subject drop for a couple weeks because at that point it was almost a month out and I wasn’t 100% sure I was gonna be able to go so I didn’t want to get both our hopes up. But then work started being really shitty and dicking me around about my schedule change that was supposed to have happened once I got out of training, and my home life wasn’t gr8 either, so I kinda latched onto that weekend trip as like a bright spot, or something to hope for. Something to keep me going. And he’d basically forgotten about it, which is fine, except I wound up springing it back on him at the last minute lmao. But then my friend who I was supposed to go with (because I can’t drive so she was gonna drive us down there) was like ‘nah I’m not going to the game, I have no money for tickets.’ So I was like well shit, there goes my happy thing. And I talked to her about it and basically begged her to just go down to Houston for the weekend anyway, I’d get us a hotel and everything, because I needed this. So she was like ‘alright, look at hotels.’ But then HER friend got very sick, like in-the-hospital having-mysterious-seizures sick, and she went to go stay with her in the hospital for a few days because the girl’s husband was being a dick about it (it turned out to just be an infection from a contact lens that got stuck in her eye and like melted??? idk. but it was BAD AND SCARY). But that was like Wednesday-Friday of the week we were supposed to go to Houston on that weekend and I wasn’t sure she’d be up to going. So I asked last minute if she still wanted to go or if I should cancel the hotel (not realizing that it was too late to cancel it anyway lmao RIP) and she said ‘ok sure but I wanna bring my kid, since I’ve been away from her for 3 whole days.’ I was like that’s fine, I already thought you were gonna bring her lol. So we wound up going down there on Saturday but we left a bit later than we’d meant to, and by the time we got to town, Letter Boy was already at work. So I missed him that day. The three of us (me, friend & kiddo) wound up swimming in the hotel pool and then ordering Chinese takeout for dinner so that was pretty fun. 

Then the next day, Sunday! Letter Boy called as we were checking out of the hotel to try and figure out what the plan was, where we could meet up, etc. We decided to meet at the mall nearby, since it was an easy landmark for all parties, and we could find each other pretty easily there. He took me (and my friend and her kid, though apparently that wasn’t the plan, and he would’ve preferred to spend time with just me; she even gave me the option to not have the two of them meet us at the restaurant and I decided not to take it because i was a nervous anxious coward lmao) out to lunch at this Korean place in town, where he loves to eat. We played a few rounds of a card game and talked and ate and it was great fun. Then he had to bail and go to work, and we had an interesting goodbye because I’d been out here trying to respect his personal space and all because from what he’d said in his coming-out letter, it sounded very much like he was touch-averse - but then he hugged me goodbye? and kept coming back for more hugs?! like “one more? ok just one more? and one more?” like nonstop for a good five minutes lmao. I was a bit confused but I loved it (my primary love language is physical touch; hugs are my kryptonite. And he gives AMAZING hugs. like I may have even actually dreamed about his hugs before I ever got to experience one, but that’s whole other post lol). Anyway so after that my friend and I went to hang out at her brother’s in-laws’ place because they lived in the area lol. Letter Boy had asked me to message him once I got there, so I did. I told him I wished I could’ve spent more time with him one-on-one, and he said “well if you’re still in town maybe you can sneak away when I get my break later” So I basically said hell yes, just tell me where to meet you, lol. We wound up meeting up at Starbucks and getting coffee and continuing to talk and hang out for the half hour of his break, and he really didn’t want to leave when it was time for him to go. Like he actually contemplated kidnapping me and bringing me to work with him lmao. If my ride hadn’t already been on her way, I would’ve gone with him in a heartbeat. I didn’t want to leave either. And he told me he loved me again!  🥰🥰🥰 It was sappy and sweet and just aghhhh <3

So that was a week ago today! And there’s been some interesting developments since then too. Starting off with that Sunday night when I got home, I’d had too much coffee (starbucks messed up my order and had to remake it so I ended up drinking both lmao, big mistake). So I was over-caffeinated and v emotional and couldn’t sleep so I started writing out all my anxious confused feelings in letter form, and wound up just linking Letter Boy to the Google Doc I’d been writing in. This was at almost 2 AM. Apparently I woke him up and he read it and replied to me over messenger and basically we talked about how like. when he first said he loved me in the letter, he didn’t necessarily mean it in a romantic context but it was definitely more than just platonic and he wasn’t sure how to quantify that. But now that we’d met in person, and got to spend some actual time together, he felt a little differently and that he was “not 100% sure but WAAAY more than 50% sure” that he loved me romantically, because partially because he’s ace, he’s just kinda unsure about romantic relationships in general and he’s reluctant to commit to them because the sex thing always becomes an issue. I reassured him that I completely understand and respect his orientation and would never ask him to change that aspect of himself or do anything that would make him uncomfortable, and he seemed immensely relieved. At this point I’m honestly not even sure how much of his feelings are genuinely for/about me, and how much of them are just some sort of general euphoria at having someone basically validate his orientation and his existence, because he’d spent so long being mocked and tormented by friends and lovers alike, and basically just feeling broken and worthless. And I completely understand that reaction. I’m not even sure I care if that’s all this is, if it comes down to it; I’m happy to be here to love and support him and make sure he never feels less than whole and valid again, no matter my context in his life. I just want him to be happy. I’d love to be the one who makes him happy, but if ultimately that is not my part in his life, then so be it. I’m at peace with it.

Anyway so that was Sunday night, we talked a little bit on Monday and Tuesday and then like,, nothing at all for a few days? And so of course my immediate instinct is that I came on too strong and pushed him away, just because he doesn’t want to talk to me every day?? so I got all mopey and sad and weird, because I thought I’d scared him off and lost him and idk. Also I was in a funk b/c my hormones are being wacky this week; I don’t really get periods per se with my IUD, but sometimes I’ll get phantom cramps and/or mood swings, etc. but this past week i’ve been spotting and cramping AND moody af, so that’s been fun. So I’d been all weird and sad and shit, and thinking he didn’t want to talk to me = he didn’t want me, and I was so paranoid and afraid because I still think this whole thing is too good to be true and I can’t trust it. I know it’s silly and far too early to be serious and it’ll never last and probably won’t end well. I know that it’s fun and easy and idealistic and won’t stand up to reality or practicality, when it eventually has to face them. So I’ve been bracing myself for that ending ever since it began. And I know three days isn’t very long, but after having a whole conversation about how we love each other, and how we love each other, it felt like an eternity. BUT THEN!!!!!!!!!

So ok, we did talk briefly on Friday, in passing. but it was a very short little conversation; the only major thing to come out of it was a further confirmation that yes, he’s serious about coming up here to see me. BUT THEN Saturday night (10/12), he got home from seeing Eric Andre perform live, and he was hanging out with his sister and drinking and generally being a goof, and he messaged me! UPDATE: It’s now sunday 10/20 and I’m still writing this. idk it’s been a lot, everything else in my life has been rough lately, idk. im not feeling as positively about this as i was before, but i’ll keep writing the update. I’ve written too much

SO! Anyway. he came home from the comedy show thing, and he was hanging out with his sister watching some Japanese reality show and drinking, and he messaged me out of the blue. Funny thing I’ve noticed is that he doesn’t generally reach out to me first and he’s not too expressive generally but whenever he’s intoxicated in some way, be it alcohol or pot or even benadryl, he gets really effusively, gushily mushy and sweet. So on this occasion he was drunk, or at least tipsy, and that means he was being extra affectionate and dumb lmao. He started out telling me about his night and then hit me with the “I wish you were heeeerrrrreeeeeeee” lol. And he said something about how one day when he graduates, we should get a place together, where we can “be non-binary and own our dreams” (the second time he’s mentioned possibly being nonbinary to me - or possibly third time, he said something in passing about being confused about gender roles, in a context that implied ‘in relation to himself.’ meanwhile I haven’t actually said anything at all to him about me being nonbinary, he just kinda assumed b/c i have a rly butch-y looking haircut rn lmao. but like.. he ain’t wrong tho 😂 so that’s a conversation that we need to actually have sometime.) He was like “it’s sorta romantic that you live up there and I live down here and we’re so far apart and we have to just kinda pine after each other basically” and i was like oh good, I’m not the only one pining lmao. But then he asked me to come with him when he moves to Japan to teach English there, sometime after he finishes his degree. Which like, I wish I could go with him, and I know that if we’re still talking at that point/especially if we actually get together, it’s gonna be hard to be that far away from him and I’m gonna miss him. But it’s just eminently not practical. I don’t have any college degree and I don’t speak a lick of Japanese, there’s no way I can teach English with him; and there aren’t many other jobs there for Americans. And he won’t be making enough to support both of us on a teacher’s salary, i know that much. So that’s where I start to get a bit disillusioned. Like I know it was just a drunk suggestion out of a desperation to not be apart anymore, and despite the fact that a drunk mouth often speaks sober thoughts, I know better than to assume that either of those offers to live together were any kind of a promise, and I have no intention to hold him to either of them. But in the moment I very much got my hopes up and I let myself get really excited and I regret that now lmao because like I knew even then that it wasn’t real. and now i’m just sorta disappointed because I’ve had to confront the fact that he’s very much a daydreamer and I, for all my delusional fantasizing, am at heart more practical than that. I don’t like to hope for things that I know can’t happen, because it’s just setting myself up for future devastation. And he just wants to hope and wish for everything, and maybe some of it will come true and maybe some of it won’t, and he just sort of seems unbothered by either outcome. For all my hopeless romanticism and my overemotional nature, I can’t bring myself to do that, to hope without expectation. I don’t know how. it’s so antithetical to my understanding of the world. And it just serves to highlight another of the many ways in which we are almost complete opposites - which isn’t a bad thing! but it can make some things harder. like handling distance, or hoping for the future, or just communication in general.

but anyway! back to drunken happiness lmao. he started saying really sappy shit like how he wants to be there for me when I’m feeling down, and he wants to have big dumb fights with me just so he can make it up to me with a big grand gesture like flowers or edible arrangements or something. and then he wrote me a drunken limerick and it was actually surprisingly good and really cute lmao. and he said he wanted to cuddle me. and then we got into a mini-fight over which one of us was cuter lmao. and he called me queen and said that he just wants to like. make me food and take care of me and stuff lol. and that he doesn’t even HAVE a type but somehow I am exactly his type? which is still fucking me up, that’s the sweetest shit i’ve ever heard. (because i know what he means, he’s dated around quite a bit with different types and genders of people and stuff because he didn’t really know how to handle his asexuality and of course the myth is that you just haven’t found the right person yet, so he just kept trying and feeling broken and then here I am, the first person he’s found to be accepting and understanding of that part of him, and still want him and care for him and be all lovey-dovey and shit with him, and he just wants me to be happy in return.) meanwhile I of course have several types, including different types for girls and guys etc, but he’s hitting all my boxes - tall, handsome in a kind of adorkable way, smart, funny, sarcastic, sweet, patient, sensitive, similar tastes in media and similar political alignments, queer. plus he’s just cute as fuck. like out of my league cute lmao but again, that’s exactly my type OTL so like I told him that, and that I just wanna like. hold him and be with him and help him be successful in whatever he wants in life. and he freaked out and was like ugh you should just come here rn i’ll hide you under my bed if i have to and i was like i wish i could :( and he was like THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH AUDREY COME HERE and i was like OK IM LEAVING ON FOOT SEE U IN 3 DAYS and it was funny. and we flung a bunch of heart emojis at each other. and then he made a passing reference to his mood swings and i kinda ended up ignoring it because i sent a message at the same time but in my head i was like boy have you even MET me, 1. the swings have always been my favorite piece of playground equipment, 2. i’ve got mood swings down to a fine art, and 3. i’m more worried about whether you can handle mine. i’m pretty sure i can take yours in stride lmao. and then there was more talk of cuddling, and HE STARTED HEART REACTING ALL MY MESSAGES and i’m just like WTF STOP IT THAT IS THE CUTEST SHIT <3333 and then he sent me a dollar by accident? and I sent him the “i love you bitch, i ain’t never gonna stop loving you bitch” vine lmao

and apparently this whole time he was still sitting around with his sister? lmao because he said she told him she approved of me after i sent that vine 😂 and she apparently likes my hair! which is good lol (reminder I need to post some pics of it on here, I posted selfies to fb but i don’t think i’ve posted on here yet). his sister is also bi lmao and seems cool in general (and also from what i’ve seen creeping her fb, she’s REALLY GORGEOUS, like it runs in the family, these fuckers should be models, it’s ridiculous really) so having her approval is v nice. like at least one member of his family approves of me! now to work on the rest 😂😂 and then he was talking about he was gonna get high also (despite being already drunk) and i was joking with him about bogarting the weed and he was like “when we live together I’ll share my weed with you” lmao but he said it with such certainty, like it was just a given. not an if, but a when. which threw me for enough of a loop. But then he started in on this fantasy scenario where like it’s late at night and we can’t sleep so he makes me sushi by hand, and we feed each other with our chopsticks (he was impressed that I already knew how to use them lmao) and we sit on the couch arm in arm watching reruns of cheers and laughing way too loudly and fall asleep in each other’s arms as the sun comes up outside but we don’t have anything to do the next day so it’s ok. and it was the sweetest most romantic shit I’ve literally ever heard in my LIFE, like it sounds like actual heaven and i was crying happy tears at this point lmao. just 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 like in that moment i felt so fucking loved i couldn’t even speak and y’all know i’m never speechless, i literally can’t fucking shut up most of the time lmao. and like at that point his phone was dying so he went to plug it in and go to bed and I did the same because it was like 2:30 in the morning but i was just giddy with affection and couldn’t sleep. 

anyway so the next day (sunday) i had a party thing to go to that was really fun but i’m socially awkward so i texted him a lot as a crutch. and then the next day (monday) he had given me “permission to bug the crap out of him” so i messaged him a lot throughout my work day because it was an unusually crappy day anyway. and the day after that (tuesday) we messaged about the democratic debates and stuff. and then i kinda tried to give him some space, because i felt like i was smothering him, and i made it all the way to friday evening before i caved in and messaged him again. like i don’t wanna bother him by messaging him every day, i know he’s busy. whenever he doesn’t actively have class, he’s got homework or he’s working (which usually means he’s driving and can’t talk). but i’m like so addicted to the affection i get from him, it’s bad. my anxiety just keeps building and getting worse if i try to avoid messaging him and I don’t make it very far before i end up giving in and messaging him for a hit of that good ol’ dopamine. so we ended up catching each other up on the events of the latter part of our week, and talking about sushi preferences. and he apparently has never had eel?? like that was probably the 2nd or 3rd thing i tried lmao 😂 but then to be fair I had a boyfriend at the time who was very interested in making sure i tried new things, and who had been stationed briefly in japan so he knew a lot about sushi and wanted to show off. anyway Letter Boy is like me, he prefers salmon by a wide margin. and we talked about how he’d tried squid and did not enjoy it, and that turned into a mini battle to see who could post the weirdest squid-themed gif lmao. and then i sent him the playlist but he still hasn’t listened to it yet I don’t think. but he also wants me to write him a poem lmao so that’s something i should start working on i guess. but idk i’m not feeling it rn but that’s not his fault. 

and then today happened and i had another incident with my mother and her narcissistic bullshit and i was feeling like shit so i reached out to my best friend to kinda get some validation that i’m not actually the narcissistic one (which felt shitty and manipulative, like if i have to ask i’m probably at least a LITTLE narcissistic. but then again if i actually was narcissistic i guess i wouldn’t even have that doubt? like i would just be certain that i wasn’t and not second-guess it because i wouldn’t care? and like making their victims believe that THEY are the narcissistic ones and the abuser isn’t, is a classic hallmark of gaslighting and narcissistic abuse? but i still felt like shit about it idk). And I also reached out to Letter Boy because while I love my best friend more than words can say, like she’s my sister-from-another-mother, Letter Boy has kind of become my comfort person. like i always used to write letters to him whenever I was going through a rough spot, as a distraction. and usually I’ll message him whenever I’m starting to feel anxious or sad, but lately it’s gotten to where I’ll start to feel anxious and sad whenever I don’t message him regularly. like i’ve said, it’s getting bad and i’m worried about it. like that’s not a good sign of a healthy relationship. and it’s nice to have some positivity in my life, especially given all the negative shit i’m constantly surrounded by. but that doesn’t mean this relationship is healthy or good for either of us. so that’s yet another thing on my list of shit that’s making me anxious lol. but anyway he tried to be supportive when i told him about what i’m dealing with in re: my mother, and encouraged me to get out, but he just seemed kinda generally lost. like he didn’t know how to deal with it. and if that’s because he’s been fortunate enough that in his life, that kind of behaviour is not something he’s experienced, then I’m happy for him. but he said some stuff about not really believing in labels, but specifically in regards to mental health issues? which like. that’s all fine and good in terms of gender and sexuality, but with mental health, that’s a medical issue. you kind of have to have names for things in that context so that you can treat them. and i get that he was kinda trying to be encouraging to me, to not let my mother make me think of myself as a narcissist, and to not feel so shitty about myself in terms of like my depression and anxiety and stuff. but it just felt like it was sort of coming from a place of very neurotypical privilege and misunderstanding, and it was sort of unintentionally invalidating. and then he brought up the idea of us living together again, once he graduates, but he said it in a slightly more realistic way which i should have been happier with but that only wound up disappointing me. he said “maybe when i graduate we can get a place...” instead of like his certainty from earlier. and i said i wish, and he said that he wishes too and we should both hope for it and maybe it’ll happen. and i’m just like... hope is a dangerous thing for my emotional health, i don’t want to hope for something that isn’t going to happen. and he basically said that i need to learn to hope without expectation, and set small goals as baby steps toward that bigger dream, and i’m just like. i don’t understand but thank you lmao. and that’s where we left off this evening. and i’ve been crying, about shit with my mom and my life in general and worrying about all this bullshit with letter boy and how like a week ago we were blissfully happy with each other and now things are feeling increasingly less certain and i have this burning feeling in the back of my mind that he’s not gonna actually show up for the Syrup Festival in 3 weeks - which again, i’ve pinned all my hopes to, it’s the light at the end of my newest tunnel. and i’m so nervous because i want to show him everything and let him get a feel for where i live (and why i feel trapped here lmao) and yet at the same time i don’t know how to handle it because i don’t think he’ll feel the same way about it as i do. and i’m still not sure he’ll even come. because despite him telling me repeatedly that he wants to come, i can’t help but feel that either something will come between us within that time, or he’ll just end up having to work, or something, and he won’t actually come. i’m so terrified he won’t want to come. I’m terrified i’m pushing him away. because this whole thing, ever since we started writing letters, has felt mostly one-sided, like i’m out here sharing everything with him and flinging my love and attention at him, and getting scraps in return, just enough to keep me coming back for more. and i don’t know if he’s stringing me along or if he’s serious. he is a bit flighty. I don’t want him to fly away. but i don’t want to hold him down, either.

i don’t know.

[fantasysuiteleague]

Finale Recap: Oh...Canada...

I can’t say I was all that excited for this finale. Part of this may be due to my 3 week absence, but I think most of it is due to Nick’s limp dick, tears, and inability to think of anyone but himself. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Hey! Nick doesn’t have a limp dick! Raven said he’s “good at what he does.” But don’t let that gross and overstaged post-coitus montage fool you: no man who dresses like this can give a woman an orgasm. 

It quickly became apparent that I wasn’t the only one struggling to get hype for Nick’s finale. For example, Chris Harrison spent an equal amount of time mentioning Rachel and the “historic moment” later to come on ATFR as he did Nick’s “desperate search for love.” When Harrison asked the audience who Nick would end up with, the option of “no one” got the biggest round of applause. But why? Well, first of all, both of these women can do and deserve much better than a whiny man-child with no job. Additionally, even though it’s really gross because it happens so often, people enjoy watching Nick cry. Except his parents.... 

They are equally as desperate for him to find someone, or just join Match.com, and Bella just wants to go back to middle school. Unfortunately for all parties involved--including Bachelor Nation--Nick signed a contract and has to drag this thing out until the very end (or until we get so bored that they just start the next season of The Bachelorette during the finale). 

Family Time

To ease his emotionally exhausted parents into the last week of Nick’s journey, the producers have the “safe/easy choice” come in to meet them first. In addition to Raven having already kind of met Nick’s parents at Bella’ soccer game, she’s the girl who would blindly and willingly accept a proposal from a man wearing a Livestrong band, no matter how embarrassing his lisp was. She’s meant to reassure his parents that at least one girl is interested in being their son’s wife. Raven is as charming as we expected, and the editors did a great job of reinforcing the overarching theme of Raven being the “no brainer” choice. Nick’s mom is still guarded, however, explaining that she has a certain emptiness in her heart (aka shame) due to all the devastation Nick has suffered at the hands of ABC. Nick’s dad, a sleepy garden gnome, seems more optimistic because Nick (unlike his dad) is finally in control “so maybe he won’t get slapped down.” 

*Enter Vanessa* Per the editing, Vanessa comes in HOT, telling his mom that she’s not 100% sure she wants to get engaged to Nick and making his dad cry. His parents are understandably incredibly concerned that Vanessa is the same type of girl he always goes for (a brunette alpha), and seeing as it’s never EVER worked out before, this is probably going to end in heartache once again. Seeing as Nick, much like his dad, is clearly a beta, I don’t think his pairing with an alpha female is necessarily a bad thing. His parents make it work--hell, even my parents make it work (sorry mom, but everyone knows you’re the boss, not Ralph). The problem with Nick, however, is that he weaseled his way onto a franchise that consistently recruits women who are just flat out out of his league. He’s not good-looking enough, he has no job, he’s SO insecure, he can’t stop crying, he has a lisp, he wears turtlenecks...you get the point. So it makes sense for his parents to be worried that whatever hot alpha female he chooses is probably not going to stay with him...because she won’t.

Last Dates

Nick’s final date with Vanessa is wack AF. First of all, the last person I want to meet while on a date with my potential future fiance is Finland Santa Claus. Not only that, but I certainly would NOT be interested in hanging out with this man in a small candle-lit shack. Mall Santas in the US already depress me because they’re just lonely fat men. But “real” Santa speaking Finnish and living in a shack with no electricity is some next-level shit. Hard. Pass. After escaping Santa’s rape shack, Nick and Vanessa spend the remainder of the date crying into each others arms. Vanessa wants some reassurance from Nick, but he won’t give it to her because that’s not how this show works. Vanessa’s hesitance is understandable, but also this is a fucking fantasy. Do your homework and watch a full season so you know what you’re doing before you come on and make demands of a man with no dick. 

Sticking with the theme of “light and easy,” Raven’s date consists of yet another opportunity for Nick to show of his skating abilities without much substance. Nothing serious is discussed and there’s not much of a takeaway other than “Raven will say yes.” I personally would have preferred more on-camera time for the puppies in lieu of their fireside chat. While the absence of any serious conversation is meant to suggest things are easy with Raven, to me it comes off more as both parties knowing they aren’t going to end up with one another. If you’re supposed to be getting engaged THE NEXT DAY, wouldn’t you want to talk about where you’re going to live, your friends and family, and all that important life shit that exists outside this fantasy world? Obviously the answer is yes, which is why it seems clear to me that they’re just going through the motions at this point. Then again, aren’t we all?

The Proposal

By the time Neil Lane makes his standard cameo I’m barely paying attention. Nick looks at some gaudy rings that you would only accept if you were getting it for free, eventually picking the biggest one because who cares, he’s not paying for it. There’s something very gross and fake about a man picking out an engagement ring on the day he actually proposes. Then again, he also picked his fiance on the day he proposed. To no one’s surprise, Raven is the first out of the limo and the one to get dumped. But not before Nick let’s her give one last speech about how she loves him and is ready to be his pretend wife. Nick shockingly starts to cry as he gives the standard “I love you, but I’m not IN love with you” breakup line. I don’t buy that Raven’s stoic face was due to shock, as she claimed on ATFR.  If you’re Raven you’re thinking “phew, I made it to the top 2 and got to travel around the world, I’ll be on Paradise, and MOST IMPORTANTLY...I’m not stuck being engaged to Nick Viall.” 

She’s the real winner in this story. And if the lack of gaudy ring on her finger doesn’t prove it, her response of “I know you will” to Nick’s pathetic claim that he’ll miss her seals the deal. Even though she walked away the winner, she still deserved a coat to wear back to the limo. Even though the show tried really hard to make it seem like Vanessa may not accept his proposal and make this whole episode more dramatic than it really was, I don’t think anyone was convinced. As soon as Vanessa walked into the room Nick broke down and launched into a speech about how he had been falling in love with her since the beginning but was scared she didn’t feel the same (despite her repeatedly telling him she did). For all the huffing and puffing Vanessa had done about not necessarily wanting to get engaged, she immediately said yes to Nick’s proposal, disappointing everyone but Nick’s parents. Hooray for “love.”

After the Final Rose

Okay first of all, I have a very hard time understanding why anyone would want to dress up and go to a 3+ hour live watch party of the Bachelor. Some of those women were decked out. Like, watch with your friends in sweatpants? Anyway, the best part of the ATFR was how fucking incredible Raven looked. She had that glow of someone who dodged a Nick Viall bullet and I couldn’t be happier for her and all the kissing/fingering she’s going to do on Paradise this summer. The second best part of ATFR was how MISERABLE Vanessa looked. 

That is NOT the face of a woman excited to be engaged. In fact, it’s not even clear if Vanessa knows what it means to be engaged. When Chris Harrison asked if they were going to get married, Vanessa said “we’re taking baby steps.” Ummmm there’s no such thing as “baby steps” on The Bachelor. Also, what do you call the last few months? If anything, that response just confirms that there is no way she is going to marry this walking box of kleenex. And if that answer didn’t convince you, then surely the words used to describe their relationship such as “struggles” and “ never easy” and “I’m a realist” underscores that this “relationship” will last just as long as Nick will on DWTS. The entire interview is so uncomfortable and so clearly filled with tension that ABC had already planned in advance to use the last third of the program to focus on the first ever Blachelorette. Rachel, sporting a new expensive set of extensions, is brought out and *surprised* by being given the opportunity to meet a few of the guys from her season. This “historic” moment that Chris Harrison kept chirping about all night was almost as uncomfortable as Vanessa and Nick’s interview. All in all, the entire finale fell flatter than Nick’s limp dick because no matter how hard he or ABC tries, it’s nearly impossible to find someone willing to marry this manboy.

[lovemesomesurveys]

When you were young, what did you dream of being when you grew up? When I was a kid, I wanted to be a teacher. In middle school I knew I liked helping people, and when I got to high school freshmen were required to take a health and intro to psychology course. It was then I decided I wanted to get into psychology.

Are you young at heart, or an old soul? I think I’m a kid at heart.

What makes someone a best friend? It’s just a different kind of bond and connection. You feel closer to that person, and feel like you can trust them and tell them anything. They’re usually someone who knows you very well and vice versa.

Name one physical feature that you like about yourself, and one you dislike. I like my hair when it’s freshly dyed and looks nice. That’s not the case currently, I’m months overdo. :/ As for what I dislike... everything else. Because I’m months overdo I don’t even like my hair right now either. 

Would you like to reconnect with any friends you’ve lost contact with? I’ve drifted apart from everyone over the past couple years. This past year, especially. I’ve been so distant and withdrawn, which in turn has made me a bad friend. I haven’t been there for them like they deserve. I know I’m not the only one with problems, but I’ve just been so wrapped up in my own shit. I’ve been selfish. I don’t know what’s going on with anyone anymore, and that’s horrible. I’d like to be able to reconnect with them and be there for them, but I’m just so messed up.

What’s more important in a relationship: physical attraction or emotional connection? Emotional connection to me. That’s what really is the root of the relationship and what keeps it going in my opinion. It’s deeper than looks. Not to say physical attraction doesn’t play a role at all, but it’s not the most important because it goes beyond that.

Name a movie that you knew would be terrible just from reading the title. I know I’ve been guilty of judging a movie by its title, but of course I can’t think of a specific example right now.

What holiday do you most look forward to? Christmas.

How is the relationship between you and your parents? Very good. My mom and I are especially close, she’s my rock. I am very fortunate to have two supportive, loving parents in my life.

Name a song that never fails to make you happy. I can name songs that make me sad, but I can’t really think of one that makes me feel happy. Like, songs that are upbeat and catchy are fun and nice and all, but they don’t really make me happy.

You know at least one person named Michael. Tell me about him. Actually, I don’t.

Have you ever read the “missed connections” on Craigslist? Have you ever posted one, or wanted to? No. I’ve never even been on Craigslist.

If you could pick anywhere to live the rest of your life, where would it be? I’m not sure. I like my state, but my hate my city. So, maybe just another city in my state, or another state entirely. I’d have to travel and experience a few places to get more of an idea.

Can money buy happiness? It could certainly help with some things that are stressful. It’d also allow me to travel and get things that would benefit my family and I. All of that would be nice. However, it wouldn’t get rid of my chronic health issues, both physically and mentally. It wouldn’t fill certain voids. It would be nice, don’t get me wrong, and it would certainly help out a lot, but some things it just can’t buy.

Do you drink? Smoke? Do drugs? Why, or why not? I don’t drink anymore and haven’t for about four years. I don’t have a desire to as of now. It just wasn’t enjoyable for me, and I was over it. It also wouldn’t mix well with my medications. I haven’t smoked weed in about three years, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. The opportunity just hasn’t presented itself. I don’t do any drugs, and I have no desire to.

Where was your favorite place to go when you were a little kid? Hmm. I really just liked playing Barbies for hours on end lol.

Have you ever spent a night in the hospital? I’ve spent months in the hospital.

Do you enjoy being with only one or two friends, or with a large group of people? It depends. Being with a group can be fun.

Do you like the type of music your parents listen to? Do your parents like the type of music you listen to? Yeah, some. My mom and I listen to a lot of the same. She likes current stuff and music from throughout the 2000s, some 90s stuff, 80s stuff, oldies, and classic rock. I like all that as well.  My dad likes some current stuff, but mostly country and classic rock, which again I like all that as well.

Have you ever been bullied? Have you ever bullied anyone else? No and no.

If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? Hmm. I don’t know. I tire of even my most favorite foods if I have it too often close together. If I had to eat only one thing for the rest of my life...

If your partner wanted to wait until marriage before having sex, would you stay in that relationship? I’d be fine with that.

Do you believe in a god? Yes.

Would you call yourself/your family “middle class?” Yes.

Name a TV series you didn’t enjoy until after it ended: Well, it’s more that I didn’t see them until after they already ended. Especially like, I Love Lucy and The Dick Van Dyke Show that ended waaay before my time. I also like The Golden Girls and Roseanne, which ended before I got into them.

Have you ever bought a product from an infomercial? Nope.

If you could give up your car and never have to drive again, would you? I already don’t drive or own a car. <<<< Same.

If you go back to one point in time to give advice to yourself, when would you go and what would you say? Oh man. That’s tough. Maybe middle school or around then.

What’s your “quirkiest” habit? I don’t know.

What is “normal?” Are you normal? Exactly, what is normal?

Someone close to you is dying. You have the choice to let this person live for 10 more years, but if you do, you cause the death of 10 strangers. You don’t have to see them die. Do you take the offer? That’s horrible.

Would you rather be in a relationship after the honeymoon period ends, or be single? I mean, I’ve heard of the honeymoon stage ending as they say, but I didn’t think it was necessarily a bad thing. Like, that doesn’t mean they’re not in love or not happy. I just thought it meant that it might not be so lovey dovey all the time. Ha, I don’t know. It’s probably best that I’m single.

Is it possible for guys and girls to be just friends? Yes...

Where do you and your friends go to hang out? It’d usually be like Starbucks or somewhere with food. Or the mall.

What is the best TV theme song ever? Hmm. I don’t know.

When you’re alone in your own home, do you walk around naked? Nope. I don’t feel comfortable being naked. I don’t know, it feels weird to me. I also don’t like my body so even if no one else would see me, I’d see me. I just prefer wearing clothes.

What gets you out of bed in the morning? Coffee.

Do you want to have more friends than you have right now? No. I suck at maintaining friendships with the two I do have.

What part of the past year sticks out in your mind? Probably towards the end of the year.

You win a scratch-off lottery game that gives you $2000 a week for the rest of your life. Do you keep your job? I don’t have a job, sooo.

What is your favorite sport? I don’t like sports.

What has been troubling you lately? Health related stuff.

Did you enjoy your high school prom? If you haven’t gotten there yet, do you look forward to it? If you didn’t go, why not? I didn’t want to go initially, but my best friend convinced me to go. I ended up having fun. The best part was that the guy I was crushing on had came up and danced with me. I died. lol.

What do you use more often: your intuition or logical reasoning? Logical reasoning.

Tell me about the last book you read. The main character was running away from her troubled life and started anew somewhere else with a different look and identity. She worked on a ranch where she also lived, and they rented cabins to the public. This author guy books one of the cabins, and she and the author get to know each other. He’s a game changer for her. She always pushed people away before it got too serious, but he was different. Anyway, her past starts to catch up with her. He reveals some stuff to her and she learns the truth about some things. She also ends up having to go back to where she ran away from six years prior. Crazy stuff happens. Ha, I suck at summarizing. The books is called, He Found Me by Whitney Barbetti.

What is the nicest compliment you’ve ever been given? Hmm. I don’t know what the nicest would be. All of them are nice. To receive any at all is nice.

Who was your first crush? This kid who was like two grades higher than me when I was in 3rd grade.

Predict what your life will look like a year from now. I don’t know, I can’t think that far ahead. I have to take it day by day.

Often, people will ask how your last relationship ended, I want to know how it began: We were introduced through a mutual friend and just hit it off. He expressed interest in me from the start. He was like really flirty and all that. I’m shy and awkward, so it took me a bit. I was like wth someone is actually really interested in me? Things just kind of took off and thus began three years of ups and downs and something, whatever it was between us. I fell for him hard.

Where is your favorite place to go out and eat? Just really depends on what I’m in the mood for.

Early bird or night owl? I’m really not either one. I used to be such a night owl, but literally I’m just so tired all day.

Are there any childhood possessions you still hold on to? I still have my Barbies and a lot of stuffed animals packed away in the garage.

Give me an unpopular opinion you have. Pineapples do NOT belong on pizza! End of discussion.

Where do you live? Be as general or specific as you want. In California.

Do you believe in giving kids medals and trophies for participation? That’s tough. I think it’s good to encourage the members and congratulate them. It is a team effort, after all. They worked hard. However, it is nice to be recognized for your achievements. Some work harder, or go beyond, and they deserve something for that. That could also encourage the others to try harder, too. Gah, I don’t know. I’m not making sense. I feel like that sounds bad. Basically, the whole team should be congratulated and encouraged. They can get something to showcase that and/or throw a party for the team or something like a lot of teams do at the end of the season. I just don’t know if everyone should be awarded a trophy for participating. That seems like something that is earned for doing something above and beyond or a special skill, ya know?

What was the longest car ride you’ve ever taken? From California to Idaho.

Would you ever use an online dating service? It’s not something I’m interested in.

If you earn minimum wage doing what you love, would you? Sometimes that just doesn’t work financially, unfortunately. That’s how some people end up doing something they hate because it pays better.

Would you rather be alone doing something you enjoy, or doing something you don’t like with your best friends? Alone doing something I enjoy. I’ve found myself in the second situation many times, and truthfully I just wanted to be back at home. :| Those situations are just uncomfortable and unpleasant. I’d feel very out of place. In those cases, I’d rather be comfortable at home doing something I actually want to do.

Do you practice what you preach? Not always. I could certainly follow my own advice sometimes.

Are you hard-headed? I can definitely be stubborn at times.

Have you ever laughed uncontrollably when it was socially inappropriate? Not that I can recall.

Do you often skip breakfast? All I have in the morning is a cup of coffee and a couple muffins or a donut. It’s pretty rare that I eat anything big before noon.

How do you express your creativity? I enjoy coloring.

Describe your neighborhood. Not much to say? It’s pretty quiet and chill.

Name something you only liked because it was popular. Hmm.  I am sure there are examples of this from when I was younger, but I can’t think of any right now.

Give me the story of your life in six words. It’s a series of unfortunate events. Haaa.

[brooklyn-penny-blog]

Me too.

I was 13 when I met him. I was in the 8th grade, my best friend Jessica was a freshman in high school and was dating a sophomore who sang in a pop punk band called Harper's Drive. He wasn't a good singer, even by pop-punk standards, but the mere fact that he was in a band upped his cool factor to about a 9. Harpers Drive was performing in a benefit concert for the high school's marching band, and Jess had invited me along. The show took place in the high school's performing arts center and while it wasn't the first rock show I'd been to, I was in a position where any band performing live might as well have been Green Day.

I don't remember much of the concert, but I do remember that Jess and I were able to go backstage, a fantasy of just about any young girl. I met a lot of local musicians (who may as well have been rock stars to be honest), but one in particular stood out to me. He was just about my height, had spiked up, faded orange hair and I assumed he was about 16 years old. We were in a high school, after all.

Boys didn't pay too much attention to me. I was thicker and curvier than most of the girls in my grade. I had developed early, and while I wasn't overweight, my body appeared to be more of a full-grown woman than a middle school student. I struggled with body-image issues, was bullied over my weight and the fact that I chose a "goth" or "punk" aesthetic rather than the more American Eagle brand of many of my peers. I chose deliberately to be an outcast, and I liked it that way.

He paid attention to me. He commented on my outfit and accessories. I remember I was wearing dickies brand slacks, a thrift store tee, and a rubber wrist cuff with fake rubber spikes. He ran his fingers over them and referred to them as "safety spikes". I didn't necessarily know what it was like to be flirted with, but it seemed to me that he was coming on to me-- and as sad as it sounds, in that moment I felt alive and valid and mature. It was thrilling.

I found out shortly after that he was the drummer for the headlining act. This sent my heart into a tailspin- because this musician, this rock star, had paid attention to me. I could swear that he was making eyes at me from behind his drum kit. This was also the first time I had ever heard ska music. My life was changing that night-- and the entire evening felt... monumental.

Jess and I had been giggling the entire time and after some convincing and a rather impassioned pep-talk, I worked up the courage to rush the stage with a group of fellow squealing teenagers and at the end of their final song I leaned down and kissed the drummer boy on the cheek.

Before the evening ended we had exchanged AIM screen names and I went home, my heart all a-flutter because I had met a boy who was cool, funny, talented, cute, and totally into me.

The following day, I logged on and he wrote to me. We chatted for a moment before he mentioned he was at work. I was confused because normally, after-school jobs for high schoolers didn't lend themselves to being behind a computer screen. Not in 2003 anyway. And that's when I found out that he was not 16, or even in high school. He was 21, and he was at his regular job where he cared for teenagers with disabilities.

He admitted to me that he thought I was 16 (in hindsight, this doesn't make the tale any less squeamish) and when I told him that I was 13 and in the eighth grade he was disappointed because he thought I was "really sexy". To which I replied that I felt the same, and we decided that it was only appropriate that our friendship remain platonic.

There was not one single part of me at this point in my life that realized that any sort of relationship with a grown man in his twenties who had any sort of sexual desire for me, a thirteen year old girl, was safe or appropriate in any possible way. Before I go further, I feel it is imperative to note that 1) at 21, no one should be attempting to have physical, sexual, relationships with 16 year old children and 2) even if this was the case, the moment he discovered I was 13 years old, he should have blocked my username and pretended he never met me. Whatever heartache I may have felt I could easily overcome.

We agreed to remain platonic friends. The two of us often chatting when I got home from school and logged on. After a few weeks, he invited me to help him flyer for his band's next show the following weekend. I felt very cool, being asked by the drummer of my (now) favorite band, to help him promote his upcoming show. I invited Jess and her boyfriend along (the boyfriend had a car) and we all met at the local mall to hand out flyers to the other "cool" kids. After a few hours of passing out flyers, he invited the three of us back to his house which was nearby. The band had built a recording studio in the living room and he wanted to show us. I can't begin to tell you how much this excited me. I felt like I was getting a glimpse into a world where I didn't belong.

I was teased and bullied and felt like a troll at school, but that day I felt like a fun, fearless, beautiful young woman with an all-access backstage pass. The three of us went over to his house, he showed us around, gave us each a beer and invited me back to his room alone.

Jess and her boyfriend were anxious to be alone. The pair had a vibrant sexual chemistry, the kind that can only occur between two enthusiastically hormonal teenagers in young love. And I do not at all hold either of them at fault for the (however tame) indiscretions that followed.

I went to his room. He kissed me, like I had never been kissed before. He lay me down on the bed, lifted my shirt, fondled and kissed my breasts. He stopped himself, told me that it wasn't right and that if we wanted to fool around we had to wait until I was older. Ashamed and embarrassed, I put my bra back on and went back to my friends.

I didn't see him for a while after that, but we stayed in contact via instant messenger. At some point between this and the second offense, I received threatening IM's from his girlfriend at the time (who I didn't yet know existed. She comes back into this later). He assured me she was his ex and that because he and I were "platonic" friends, I had nothing to worry about.

I spent most of that summer visiting my dad in Oklahoma. At the suggestion of the drummer, I went to check out another ska band at a show in Norman. It was there that I met a trombone player named Thom. With an h. Really that's how he spelled it. I don't know how old Thom was, but he was tall, and classically handsome. We flirted and made plans to go on a date a few days later. My sister agreed to help cover for me. We told our dad that we were seeing a movie with her boyfriend so she could drop me off with Thom, and she would come back to get me a few hours later. I was now 14.

The night before the date I was chatting online with the drummer. I confided in him that I was nervous because I really liked Thom and I had never been on a date before. The drummer asked me if I was going to suck Thom's dick. I admitted that I had never done that before, the drummer offered to teach me how to do it. He then went into graphic detail about how to properly give a blow job, continuously referencing his own cock, mentioning casually how he wished he were there with me so he could teach me in person.

The following night I went out with Thom, we went and got slushes, pulled into a parking lot. I sucked his dick. He brought me back to my sister who took me home and I never heard from Thom again. Which was fine. This story isn't about him.

My first month of my freshman year of high school I caught wind that the band was having another benefit concert, and my drummer's band was once again headlining (it turned out the trombone player for that band had a daughter in my school's marching band). Jess and I once again got dolled up and joined the fun. But this time, rather than rushing the stage to give (what I thought was) a 16 year old boy a kiss on the cheek, I wound up backstage giving a (now) 22 year old man a blow job.

A few months after this incident, I was newly single from my first ever high school "boyfriend" (the term is in quotes because really we never made it official, but i loved him, spent the majority of my time with him, and gave him lots of head-- all of which went unreciprocated-- which is beside the point) I found myself always going back to him for validation. Whenever I felt down or like I was worthless or boys didn't like me and never would, I'd find myself chatting with him online. He'd say something complimentary (predatory) and I'd feel better.

Jess and I kept going to his band's shows. We had both grown to truly love ska music, it both lifted us up and made our young hearts soar. But at nearly every show, I would find a dark corner to lure him to so I could suck his dick.

A few months later I received another IM from the girlfriend who had threatened me a year before. She was apologetic and admitted to feeling "crazy" and jealous. She wanted to make things right and knew that I meant a lot to him, so she wanted to get to know me. I thought she was the epitome of cool. She had funky colored hair and an eccentric, pin-up sense of style that I admired and adored. I wanted to be her. She was younger than him, but still much older than me. She was 19.

She invited me over to the apartment that they shared. I told my mom I was going over to another (age-appropriate) friend's house and she picked me up in her silver Volkswagen bug and took me to their apartment on the Westside. We drank beer and played Nintendo as the two of them told me about their non-traditional relationship. The two of them were "open", a brand new concept to me. I had only known about monogamous relationships and could hardly wrap my head around the idea that two people could be together and also be with other people.

After a few drinks, she kissed me. And the two of us made out for quite some time while he watched. They got riled up and led me to their bedroom where they proceeded to have sex with each other while I lay next to them. Occasionally one of their hands would reach over and touch my breasts, a mouth would meet my mouth. At some point I slipped out and waited on the balcony for them to finish. I was still a virgin.

I was curious, because for the past year he had been the only constant. Something about this man made me feel important, and valuable. I believed that I had genuine feelings for him.

I was informed (not asked) that I was the girlfriend of both of them by her in a text message. I had told her that I was so happy we were friends now, and she responded "we are more than friends, you're a girl I'm seeing". I said "what am I to him?" She said "you're a girl he's seeing". "So I'm dating both of you?" "Yes".

I am, at this point in the story, now 15. I have known this man and been intimate with this man for two years. He is now 22. I have just been told by his girlfriend that, even though I considered myself to be heterosexual and had never touched a woman further than kissing that I am currently in a polyamorous relationship with two adults. And I just... went along with it.

Because I was a deliberate outcast, and I suddenly felt cool and special and different and valid and important. I couldn't see what I see now, that I was a strange pawn in their hebephilic sex games. I don't think I was special- I think I was 15 and willing.

I went back over to their apartment a few more times for a few other parties. Occasionally I'd bring a friend with me so as to not completely lie to my mother. Every time I went there I'd wind up participating in kissing and fondling with either or both of them.

The last time I went over there alone, I told my mother I was sleeping over at a different friend's house. The three of us had some drinks and put a movie on. I made the first move on him, kissing him. She became jealous and left in a huff. He tore my clothes off and lead me to their guest bedroom. He took off his underwear and said "are you sure?" And I said "yep".

It didn't hurt. I don't remember if I liked it. When we were done he tucked me in, kissed me on the forehead and went to his bedroom. She came home later, said goodnight, kissed me on the forehead and went to their bedroom.

The following morning she drove me home. I didn't call, text, or reach out to either of them for two months. She texted me a few weeks later and told me she knew he had taken my virginity and asked me why I didn't tell her. That I should always feel comfortable telling her secrets. I told her that I didn't want to date them anymore.

A few months later, we had all decided just to be friends. Their house became the party house for me and my high school friend group. Me, Jess, and three boys would all go over to their house every Friday. He'd buy us all booze. We'd play drinking games and usually all wind up naked, but we'd always be home by curfew.

I slept with him a few more times. Eventually I'd have other boyfriends, and they eventually broke up. He'd still have us over, I'd bring over new friends, younger friends that he would either sleep with or try to sleep with. I felt possessive of him, and would be angry when he wanted to touch other high school girls who weren't me. He once yelled at me and accused me of not wanting him to fuck anyone but me.

I started college and saw him infrequently. He still had parties, there were still teenage girls all over him. We were in contact until he was about 26/27. Eventually it tapered off. I was busy with my life, a live-in boyfriend, school, work at camp. He wasn't a priority for me anymore.

The last major significant interaction I had with him I was 21 years old and was drinking legally in a bar downtown. We ran into each other. It was like two old friends meeting up after "all this time". He was shocked because he'd known me for so long

"Man this is crazy! You're 21 now!"

"I know, right?"

"I've known you for so long, how long has it been?"

"I was 13 when we met so... 8 years?"

"Damn... damn... hey listen, I am so sorry. For everything. The way I treated you was really shitty."

"You know what, its fine. I forgive you"

But... it wasn't until he apologized that I realized he had something to apologize for. And suddenly it all came rushing back. He picked me up when I was 13 years old, fondled me, groomed me, he owned me. And when I reacted in a negative way, he attempted to gaslight me, called me crazy and hysterical and possessive. He took my virginity over beers when I was 15 years old, in braces, after a rousing session of Mario Kart on his fucking GameCube. And I, in the process, was taught that I was only valuable, cool, important, beautiful, worthy, interesting, special- if I was the object of someone's sexual desire.

This has affected me throughout my twenties. It wasn't until two years ago, at 26 that I experienced sexual desire on my end. I had lots of sex between when I lost my virginity until then, but never because I really, truly wanted to. I had sex because I wanted them to like me. I wanted them to value me. I wanted to be important to them. I thought that if I gave them what they wanted, that they would reciprocate with love and affection. That was not the case, so when I was rejected (which was often) I punished and blamed myself. I did horrible things to my body (mostly restricting and purging my food).

On some level I take responsibility for the role I played in these five years of my life. I kept going back to him, I never told him I was uncomfortable or had any inclination that what was happening was wrong. But, I was a kid. I was young, vulnerable, and he was the adult. He should have stopped it before it even began. He took advantage of my naivety, my innocence, my insecurities and used them to take my virginity and continue to commit statutory rape over and over again until I wasn't an option for him anymore.

I am now 28 years old. I remember when I was 21, 22, 23 thinking if I would ever consider someone as young as 13,14, or 15 an option as a sexual partner. The mere thought of it turned my stomach. It felt icky and wrong. I worked with kids that age at the camp in the summer, I was responsible for their well-being. I wondered what kind of sick and twisted shit would have to go wrong in my life for me to do the kinds of things that he did to me. I cannot even fathom.

In recent years I've been involved on and off with group chats with my old buddies from high school. They've said his name. Most of them are still friends with him and see him from time to time. I've asked that when I come home for visits that he not be invited to hang out with us. None of them (the boys, Jessica gets it) understand why. "He didn't rape you." "We were all there, you wanted it!"

I was hesitant to post "me too" because even now, after writing this- I still feel that it is my fault. I feel like I am somehow to blame and that what happened to me "doesn't count".

Let's assume that it doesn't. Let's also assume that catcalls, or being followed home in the rain from the subway by a guy begging me for my phone number doesn't count. I'll tell a much shorter story:

Two years ago I went on a date with a man who I knew was trouble. He was clearly unstable and had reached out to me after years of radio silence after our first date (we drunkenly made out for hours but didn't sleep together) and left me countless drunken voicemails about how I was the one who got away. I agreed to meet up with him, had one drink and felt drunker than I'd ever felt. The majority of the night I remember in vague, hazy vignettes. I totally blacked out as we got into a cab and I came to in someone's front yard with my tights and panties around my ankles. He was pulling on his pants. I told him I needed to get home. He told me I was home. I told him I lived in Brooklyn. He told me we were in Brooklyn and kept trying to convince me that we were at my house. I finally managed to tell him my address and he helped me get in a cab and take me to my actual home. He helped me up the stairs, kissed me goodnight and left. The next morning he told me that we had sex and it was my idea, he couldn't have said no if he wanted to and that he hopes I remember it next time. I have no evidence of whether or not there was something in the one drink I had before the world started spinning. I know I had at least two more drinks that night. But I do know that I was in no position to consent to any sexual contact that night. I blocked his number and social media channels. I stopped dating.

Whenever I start to think that mine don't count, I have to think seriously-- would it matter if it happened to Jessica? To my sister? My mother? My colleagues or clients? Of course it would. So why should it not matter that it happened to me?

So yeah, I guess, me too.