#that said it serves as a great way to weed through your dating pool when you are a gay nerdy sort

[namira]

Cold take I know but the Steven Universe discourse on this site was so insane to behold. Idk I never really watched through the show I just saw a few episodes and a lot of gifsets and my takeaway was that it's a cute kid's show about the power of love and friendship etc with some fun music. And people were sending each other death threats about it.

[beatleszeppelin]

You're A … Inexperienced

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol' time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 2.1k

Chapter 1: Truth

The night was off to a slow start since you and Daryl had taken watch. The sound of the chain link fence rattling in the wind served as a pendulum in the back of your mind. A chill in the late summer air made the concrete you used as a backrest cool to the touch. Both of you sat against the base of the watchtower on lookout, since the two with the regular shift were on a run.

“Know any games to play to stay awake?” You asked, slumped against a wall, and turning to look at Daryl, who was sitting cross legged, head rested in his hands.

“No,” he replied, “should get some cards or somethin’.”

“Yeah, next time we go into town.”

The night had become dark, no moonlight deciphered the sky from the inside of your eyelids. Time ticked on and before you knew it both of you had fallen asleep.

The rattle of the fence shocked you out of your sleep, and you saw an arm reaching through the fence trying to grab at you. Although a decent distance away, you could still see it’s skin peeled back up to it’s bicep; raw meat dangling behind the wires, so it could fit the exposed bone deeper through the fence.

The growling must have woken Daryl up, because by the time you were standing to go and kill the bloody thing, he had handed you his knife to use. You took it graciously and tiredly walked over to kill it, looking much like a zombie yourself.

Stabbing it through the eye, you could feel the pop of penetration to the skull, and with that it fell to the ground dead, fully dead. With all of its weight moving downwards, the force must have been too much, causing it’s limb to stay on the side of the fence opposite to it’s corpse. You hoped backwards as the appendage reached for your ankle, then shriveled up like the rest of its body.

Returning to your space adjacent to Daryl, you handed his knife back, and sat down breathing heavily.

“You rest, I won’t go back to sleep,” he said leaning on his hip to pull his red rag out from his back pocket. The knife you had used was laying on the ground next to him, beaded with blood.

“No way I’m getting back to sleep, I can hear my blood pounding in my ears.”

“Tell me if you need ta though, ‘cause I’m good,” He said, reassuring you.

You just shook your head and leaned against the wall, propping yourself up with a gun by your side.

You rolled your shoulders back every once in a while to stretch your back. Daryl mindlessly fiddled with a rock that he picked up off the ground. The sky was now dark and all of the stars in the night could be seen. Nothing like this would have ever been possible before. As the stars moved and passed with the coming hours, your tiredness from before seemed to return.

Neither of you had spoken in quite some time, which wasn't weird for you now that you have been taking shifts with Daryl for sometime. At first it was weird doing nothing with him, it was like he wasn't comfortable enough with you to converse, but now you know it's quite the opposite. You guys can communicate by means other than just talking. However, silence needed to be broken if you were going to keep him company until sunrise.

“I miss coffee,” you broke silence, plucking some grass and throwing it past your outstretched feet.

“Huh,” he snickered.

"I don't think I appreciated it before, I don't even remember drinking it that often."

"Don't even remember the last time I had it." He said and spun the little shiny rock he had in his grasp.

“I do,” you said.

He readjusted his position to be facing you holding his knees up to his chest with his chin rested on top. His head tilted down, but his eyes looked up at you to continue.

"Was a date, or not a date, but a meeting. I was out at a cafe, with the TA, for the psych class I was in. And he ordered for us, and after I explicitly told him to get almond milk, he didn't."

"Why?" Daryl asked with conviction.

"Because I'm lactose intolerant and I had to kick him out that night because my stomach hurt so bad." You picked a few sticks up from the ground and broke them into tiny pieces. The stick sprinkled across the ground, and disappeared in the surrounding weeds.

"Didn't mean why are you lactose intolerant, I meant why didn’t he get ya what ya wanted?" He furrowed his brow for a second.

“I don’t know, never thought about it, maybe he’d just forgotten or something. Doesn’t matter, he wasn’t even that good in bed.”

Daryl threw his special rock in the air and caught it swiftly. For just a second it had sparkled in the air, before he held it in his fist like he would never let it go.

“I bet you’ve been on bad dates, too.”

“Nah,” He said and threw his rock across the land and wrapped both his arms around his legs.

“What!? Okay, I guess your fucking perfect,” you said scoffing in a half joking manner.

“No, just didn’t go with too many people.” He mumbled.

“And all of them just happened to be great?” You questioned.

“Never said that,” He tucked his chin under his arms, that still rested on his knees, “I never went on any good ones neither.”

“It’s kinda hard to believe you didn’t date much, I mean, look at you,” you joked, but also couldn’t deny the genuine admiration that he evoked from the people that surrounded him.

“Nah, forget I ever said anythin’. Let’s just go back to sittin’ here.” He turned his head to the side in which the sun would eventually rise.

“No, please, I just came up with a game idea,” you begged.

“Hmm?” He glanced over.

“Truth or dare!” You exclaimed, failing your attempt of hiding your excitement.

“Nuh uh. Not subjecting myself to that shit,” he said tersely.

“Come on, I wanna know about these dates you didn’t go on, and you could dare me to do stupid shit in the mean time,” you said with your shoulders sagging.

“Ain’t gonna ask you nothin’,” he said stubbornly.

“Okay, then it’ll be one-sided truth.” You had as much enthusiasm as a little girl at a sleepover as you asked, “Truth or da…”

“Fine.”

“Okay, when was the last time you got drunk?” you started him off easy.

“Uh… CDC.”

“Wait, the CDC? Like the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta? How have I not heard about this before?” You asked. If this was the easy question,then this game may be more fun than you had previously thought.

“Yeah, stopped there, it’s gone now though,” he said nonchalantly.

“It’s gone? You would think it’d be better guarded or something.” You were astonished by the first question, and immediately got excited for the night to come.

“Blew up. My turn,” he said and pondered for a second, resting his chin on his palms like a winsome child. “What was his name?”

“Who’s name?” You wondered if this was what he was wasting his first question on.

“Coffee date guy,” he raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

“I don’t remember,” you shrugged.

“That ain’t how this game works,” he argued back with a pout.

“Okay fine, I think his name was Bryce,” you gave up.

“‘S a douchey name.”

“He was a douche… probably dead now.” You looked down at the weeds growing, plucking a few and tying them together, waiting for someone to speak. You looked over at Daryl, who was patiently waiting for his question. He actually looked like he wasn't completely hating this game.

You thought for a minute, wondering how you could crack the boy in front of you. After some thought you said, “What was your first date like?” It was the perfect question, because really you could not imagine what he’d say.

“I told you, never did that type of thing.” He brought his thumb up to his mouth and started rubbing his lip as he talked.

“Okay then, who was the first person you ever did anything romantic with?” you asked.

“‘S not romantic, but there was this one girl that Merle’d bring out drinking with us sometimes. Name was Candy or something.” He mumbled around his thumb.

“Aww, little 20 something Daryl going out with a girl named Candy,” you teased.

“Wasn’t 20, I musta been ‘bout 13 or 14,” he recalled.

“I thought you said you’d go out drinking together?”

“Yeah, we’d go to this bowling alley, ‘cause they don’t card, and they had a pool table and a back room, I used to pay Merle t’ get me drinks.”

“He have to buy her drinks too?” You questioned.

“Nah, she was ‘bout his age I think, and he’d never buy something for someone else,'' he looked off.

“Wait, she was his age, and they let you drink when you were just a kid?” You tried not to chide.

“Hey, ain’t it supposed to be my turn?”

“Sorry,” you stopped.

“You said you were in a psych class, was that what you were gonna be?” He looked interested, as he inquired, studying your face as he awaited your response.

You explained “That’s what I went to school for, but who knows, I minored in fine arts. Truth is I hated psychology, but my parents needed me to make money for myself, otherwise I could have lived happily as a broke artist. Doesn’t really matter now though,” you trailed off. “Speaking of, what were your parents like?”

“Mean, drunk, dead.” He put it bluntly.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t know. How old were you?"

"With my mom, I’s 9. I was out playing with kids from around where I lived. They were all on bikes and wanted to chase this fire engine trying to see somethin’ exciting. I ran behind, and when I caught up I realized it was my house that was on fire. My mom had been smoking in bed."

"I'm really sorry about that, I didn't know about your mom or anything." You looked at him genuinely, giving a sympathetic smile.

"Was a long time ago,” he shrugged off. “Now for you. What art did you do?"

“I drew, painted, took pictures, everything really.” You added kindly.

He tilted his head back until it hit the wall, he stretched out his legs, and looked up at the stars as he said, “I’ll have to see that sometime.” “It’s not like I still have any of them,” you said, perplexed at his interest.

“Oooh, who was your celebrity crush as a kid,” you asked, “like who did you have posters of above your bed?” “Ya’ know Blondie,” he looked over to get your reaction. As he saw you nod, he said “Yeah, had a Debbie Harry poster, ripped out from a magazine.”

You laughed, and the questions continued; some questions resulted in stories others sat in stillness. The morning was short to come as the warm glow of the sun peered over the trees, and chirping birds made themselves present.

“Okay, what was your first time like?” you pestered.

You were met with a second of awkward silence, before he stumbled over the phrases “ I never, I mean… I did, it wasn’t like that though.” He brought his thumb up to his mouth again.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’re a…” he dipped his head down, and looked up at you through his hair. A sickly puppy could make your heart hurt any more, so you danced around your initial wording and asked “uhh, inexperienced?”

“Morning!” sang through the fields, and Daryl had been saved by the bell. Carol stood alongside Carl to take over for the morning shift, and relieve Daryl of his painted flush. She extended her hand out first to you, helping you up. Then to Daryl, letting the hand holding linger as she instructed for you guys to go get some rest.

The walk up was silent, but just before parting you joked with him “If you ever need some more experience, you know where my cell is.” You had said it quiet enough where he could ignore it, but you knew he heard it, because he silently split, seconds after you said it.

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

In shidduchim how important was it for you to find someone who shared the same political opinions as you? Were there certain opinions you considered deal breakers? What side of the political spectrum did the majority of men you dated fall on? Did you make any changes to your shidduch resume to weed out people with certain beliefs or people who on extreme ends of the spectrum.

Some of political opinions fall on the conservative side of the spectrum and some fall on the liberal side of the spectrum. However, most of the the men I’m being set up with fall on the conservative side. Some are what I would refer to as right wingers. They are pro-Trump, anti-mask mandates, anti-vax (the anti-vax person is in the medical field), etc. (I know some of these things are less about politics and more about public health/safety.)

Is there any way to weed these individuals out from my dating pool?

I didn’t need to go through a detailed checklist to make sure we were on the same page for every single possible view or anything like that, but I did want to feel like we were somewhere in the same headspace. My parents had similar political views when they got married, but my father has become more and more staunchly conservative by the year starting roughly when I was in maybe middle/early high school, while my mother has remained fairly liberal as before. It has been a big strain on their marriage at times and I would never intentionally put myself in a situation like that from the get-go.

All of those things would've been dealbreakers for me (albeit the covid-specific aspects didn't exist when I was dating, from 2014-2018), but I never put anything in my shidduch resume intentionally targeting political views and also don't really ever remember being set up with people whose views were an issue in that regard (or at least, if I did get set up with such people, other things made the match not work out before politics came to light). I just looked back at my resume to see if there was anything in there that might have filtered out Trumpers, etc. unwittingly, but really the only thing I can see maybe potentially doing that in some way was a line about wanting the person I was looking for to feel comfortable interacting with people different from him. 🤷🏻‍♀️

That said, you ARE having this issue, so there's probably something to try to address it at least somewhat.

A few ideas:

You can totally just state it blatantly in your shidduch resume if you want to. That's a great way to allow matches to self-filter, and I did do that with certain other issues. I probably would have done it with politics had I been having issues with the people I was getting set up with in that regard. You could either go the route of explaining what you don't want in a match's political views, or the route of mentioning what your own views are (the former is probably a somewhat stronger filter but the latter probably comes across less harshly; depends on what you want to do).

Make sure that even if it's not written in your resume, the shadchanim, friends, family, etc. who tend to set you up are aware of your preferences in this regard.

Ask references and do some internet sleuthing of potential dates before you decide whether or not to go out. People with extreme political/public health stances one direction or the other don't particularly tend to be quiet/subtle about it on social media or with their offline social circle, so even if you get the suggestion despite the above, this last step can serve as an additional filter before you waste your time meeting the person.

[letmebecandid]

A Few Ground Rules

If you’re reading this, you may have peeked around some of my writings and wondered where I stand on certain issues. Specifically, because I don’t deny that I have conflicting desires, my faith and commitments are often incongruous with my feelings (hello, every male who is married whose eyesight also works). So I’m upfront about that because I think we all have belief systems or committments that don’t allow our desires to have their day in the sun—at least the way we’d want to. Why do we feel the need to pretend that our feelings always align with our belief systems or truth? Or maybe by the time you’re reading this, I have published a NYT bestseller and you want to find out more about the brilliantly humble author behind the book that made you weep, laugh, love God a little bit more, and punch a homophobic Christian man in his fat fucking face. Welcome, you belong here.

Below I’ve explained—sometimes beautifully, sometimes with reason full of holes—what I believe about God, faith, homosexuality, worldview and faithfulness to my family. 

What I believe about God I believe in God. I believe in Jesus and that he was the son of God. I have a relationship with God through Jesus and I believe that my relationship with him is what brings me joy, purpose and, ultimately, eternal life. I’m not big on theology (I got kicked out of Bible college in my junior year and it’s been downhill since—but it’s a great story that involves weed, shoplifting, and four meals in jail so stay tuned), so people who start saying things like “postmillennialism” or “the right theology” I usually tune out. I love Jesus, he’s saved and transformed my life. Boom. I like to keep it simple. That doesn’t mean that I don’t find different ways to look at spiritual living and learn from it. But from my experience, people who get really jazzed about theology and biblical interpretation are also dicks who judge people a lot.

What I believe about the bible and homosexuality To many people, this is really simple. “God says it’s wrong” [cites the dozen or so verses in the bible referencing this] and drops mic. Easy peasy. Other people I’ve met say that, while they believe what the bible says, the context in which the bible refers homosexuality is somewhat vague when you look at the original text and they have peace about interpreting it differently than what mainstream Christians do. Where I stand is somewhere in the middle. Most of my life I believed that if I acted on same-sex feelings or embraced a gay relationship (prior to marriage) that it would have been wrong for me. That has since been challenged as I have met gay and lesbian people who are in a relationship with Christ and genuinely exhibit evidence of the spirit in their relationships and marriage. I’ve struggled to admit that out loud (and have changed this portion of the post since its launch) because in my mind, it didn’t matter *what* I thought was permissible before, because I now have a wife and two kids and that is no longer an option for me. But I’m in the middle of accepting what it means to be fully committed to marriage with my wife, to parenting my two kids, and still fully accepting and living as a loved child of God without shame. 

No matter how you interpret scripture, I see no reason to hold anyone outside of the faith to the standard of the bible since it’s not something they’re trying to do themselves. 

What I believe about imprinting and sexuality Since I’m sharing my experiential thoughts and musings on life here in this blog, I’m not trying to convince you of anything. You’re a guest in my home, sitting on my couch and you’re going to drink the tea I serve you. However, as you’re reading you may say to yourself, I wonder what he believes about.... So I’ll lay that out. There are basically three camps of belief when it comes to sexual identity origin that I can see. They are:

Nature: This camp essentially believes that sexual orientation is purely genetic—that there is a yet undiscovered gene that says you are gay, lesbian, straight, bixual, transgender. In believing this, sexual and gender identity is not innately right or wrong—it just is. There’s no need to go to conversion therapy for having blue eyes because it’s just who you are. It can’t change. Often people raised in Judeo-Christian traditions don’t believe in this theory because “God would never MAKE someone gay”, because, you know, he hates them.

Nurture: The nurture camp believes that life experiences (usually in childhood) largely shape sexual and gender identity. People who might believe this will cite their or others’ sexual abuse as a child as a reason they became sexually attracted to the same sex when they hit puberty (or before). Another person might believe that their emotionally absent father and overbearing/emotionally attached mother shaped their identity. Paging Dr. Freud! This camp typically believes that sexual desire emerges from and seeks to meet unmet emotional or psychological needs from childhood. I have met openly gay people who believe this. I have met others who are offended by this idea and have said it’s an insult to insinuate that their sexual or gender identity has anything to do fulfilling an unmet need from their youth. It really depends on how you look at it (and who’s doing the looking). I have also, unfortunately, heard the stories of men and women who who experienced sexual abuse in their childhood and subsequent same-sex feelings. While I think it’s offensive to assume this is the cause of same-sex preference for most people (it’s not true for my personal experience and many people I know), it’s also something that falls in the ‘nurture’ category of sexual orientation and should be acknowledged. 

Choice: People who believe sexual identity is a voluntary choice often think that gay people wake up one day and say “you know what? I’m bored. I think I’m going to try sleeping with a dude and see how it all shakes out”. Am I showing my bias against this theory? I do think it’s a ridiculous notion, and it’s often touted by unsympathetic preachy types of people who say things like “love the sinner, hate the sin!” Their interpretation of human sexuality is astonishingly simple and very binary. You’re born 100% heterosexual and one day wake up and start playing Tetris with your bathing suit areas out of sheer curiosity. I have asked people who believe it’s a choice if they themselves could foreseeably experiment with someone of the same sex. Shockingly, they could not. I have a lot of judgment for this way of thinking because, again, it is so simple and uncomplicated. I have never met someone who simply wanted to try same-sex sex and just plain ‘ole did and liked it. I have met people who lived and enjoyed heterosexuality and then had a same sex experience. Some of those people go back to heterosexual relationships happily while others discover that that experience uncovered a latent desire that was deeply met in their experience.

What I believe is quite simple My personal experience suggests that there’s some environmental component in the development of my sexuality. I grew up with overwhelming (and sometimes overbearing) female role models; my mom, two sisters, grandmother, aunts, female cousins, all of their girlfriends (and the Golden Girls). I played dress up with my sisters when I was a kid. My grandmother taught me a lot about antique costume jewelry because that’s what she was interested in. My mother relied on me emotionally to be The Man Of The House because my father was drunk, abusive, and then absent. Women were plentiful in my family and men were mysterious and brooding and left no breadcrumb trail to follow in their footsteps (which, in hindsight, was a beautiful intervention from God).

As I got older, my comfort level with women grew. When I was 15 years old, I went to my neighbor’s house to hang out. But my neighbor wasn’t some cool kid named Cody with a skateboard and a Bieber cut. She was a French Canadian in her 60’s named Doris Demers. She had Crones Disease, a wig and a swimming pool. Sometimes we’d watch the Golden Girls together, sometimes we’d play cards. I baked her an angel-shaped birthday cake for her birthday one year (we had the same birthday fifty years apart). I finally got let into her mahjongg circle when one of the ladies stopped coming (it’s possible the lady died but we never talked about it). So Doris, I, and two other old ladies in their 60s and 70s would play mahjongg and smoke Virginia Slims 100s. I’d go home smelling like smoke and I’d blame it on Doris’s friends if my mother asked. I felt like I belonged with these women. On our 16th/66th birthday, Doris and I went to go see Mother in the theater together. It was my first date with a woman. I’m shocked myself.

Motivations for belief I can’t talk about belief and imprinting and nature vs. nurture without also talking about the motivations for belief. We would all like to think that we’re open-minded and our belief systems are based on objective facts or observations that then informed our thinking—that we just so happened to stumble on the one worldview that is perfectly objective and truth-based. What’s more likely, however, is that our worldview informs our beliefs, not the other way around. If you’re a fundamentalist, conservative, evangelical Christian, you’re not likely going to believe that homosexuality is genetic. Because you can’t believe that. To you, homosexuality is wrong and God wouldn’t make someone imperfectly. You need to believe what you believe because anything else might threaten the foundation of your worldview.

Conversely, if you’re more liberal and/or if you are openly gay, then you’re less likely to believe that this comes from a flippant choice or a relational imbalance from childhood. I have met people who don’t fit this mold, but by and large, people who accept and believe living openly gay is acceptable believe that it is also purely or largely genetic. To do so would be a threat to the foundational belief of what is true.

Motivation is important, is all I’m saying.

This initial post is woefully incomplete and full of philosophical and logical holes, I’m sure. But hopefully, you’ve understood where I’m coming from and why I believe what I believe. If you seriously disagree with me or want to comment on this subject, please write. I by no means believe I have the corner on truth and am always growing and adapting my way of looking at the world.