Every minute in the pitt my man robinavitch is trying to take a piss and someone is standing in his way. won't somebody please think of his prostate? I NEVER stop thinking about his prostate and how i could contribute to the health thereof
Start disappointing people and not backing out of it when they are upset, reject feeling ashamed of everything including of yourself, start saying No to things you do not want to do not just things you're scared of, do more of those things you're scared of but wish you could do, make your own plans and execute them, decide to do or not do something without basing it on who will Dislike it.
Free Will takes practice, and the chance of making someone somewhere Slightly or even Very Disappointed In You. But you're an adult and you can't be made to stand in a corner anymore.
It has been over a year. I did not know what Bluey was before I made this post. I am not going to watch Bluey because of responses on this post. Also, I wanted to let all you guys know that Bob the Builder teaches us all lessons about construction equipment in a way no other show does, making it far more meaningful and important than what 99% of vapid adult programming has to offer. Can we fix it? “Yes we can,” says Bob the Builder - an inspiring message and one far more meaningful for our times than any tragedy (ew) Shakespeare could ever write.
rabbot grindr au - inspired by @roobydoos 's post :))
summary: robby, in a phase of what he considers insanity, downloads grindr and ends up meeting a man that is everything his dreams are made of. turns out the man in question means more to him than he thinks, and the "stranger" knew the whole time.
warnings: mature content
If you asked Robby how he got here, he'd tell you he has no fucking clue, which he really doesn't.
Maybe it's due to middle aged desperation, loneliness, many years of struggling with commitment, what have you. But here he is, staring at the Grindr logo on his phone, and he can already feel the regret seeping into his bones.
It somehow got even more embarrassing when he had to make a profile and input his information.
Michael Robinavitch
Male (He/Him/His)
55 years old
6'1"
195 Ibs
White
Then it asked for his preferred position, which again made it glaringly obvious that this app is for hookups. He grimaced and put it in.
Switch
He can't remember the last time he's been fucked, but if he was against it, he would've gone to the local strip club and picked up a woman instead.
He put himself in as negative for HIV, thank you very much. He knew he was far too committed to this whenever he got an STD panel done on himself a week ago. The amount of time it's been since he's gotten laid is so long you may as well consider him abstinent. His patience has worn thin, clearly.
The description was very short and sweet "Looking for a good time."
He pressed post on his account and waited.
∆
The first week was interesting. Most of his messages were from men almost half his age and very "manhandle-able" as they liked to describe themselves to him as if that was some type of unavoidable temptation. Good for them, but not exactly what he's interested in.
One night when he was incredibly bored and needed a distraction, he opened up the app just to look. And the men he actually wanted pulled up more than once. The muscular ones, the life-worn ones with bodies he could lose himself in. But he would never be the first one to say something, which is probably a major failure on his part. Something about this still makes him feel avoidant, nervous. Like if he put himself in it too much it would wound his pride. So he turned off his phone and rolled over.
In the next few days, a miracle was bestowed upon him.
He was putting together a quick dinner after a fucking exhausting shift. He felt like a little bit of his soul was forcefully tugged out of him and he was way too tired to try to fight for it back. So when he felt his phone vibrate in his scrub pocket, he was more irritated than anything else.
He pulled the device out with a sigh and glanced at the description of notification he received.
Jonathan messaged you.
The one night he's not interested in reading some DM from a 30 year old wanting to get their dick sucked. Of course. But he felt called to look at it anyways, so he did.
Hey handsome.
He presses on the profile and holy fuck. 50 years old, 5'9", 215 lbs, and every corner of him made up of muscles. Broad shoulders, large biceps, a temptingly large chest (the something he could lose himself in), abs, and a smattering of freckles everywhere. The dusting of a gray happy trail made his mouth water like a teenager. This might be what he needs to wash himself clean of tonight's nightmare.
Hello
First time someone not young enough to be my child has messaged me.
Ha
We might be the only old dudes in all of pittsburgh on this godforsaken app.
Lucky us.
He didn't even check how far he was. Now looking back at it, 6 miles away, a blush starts heating up at his ears.
What's brought you here tonight?
Boredom
Now you
Right to the point huh
If that was the case, l'd be asking you for nudes already
But l'm a gentleman
Is that what this app attracts?
For men as compelling as you, I'll be anything you want
Don't know if l've ever been described as compelling before
I can call you a lot more if you're willing
God, he's run into a smooth talker. He should not be as thrown off as he is by a random man with no face on his profile on the internet; he could be getting cat fished right now. But the idea that he actually exists is enough to get him hot under the collar.
Too much?
He now realizes he's been quiet for too long
No
Long shift, that's all
Understood
What do you do for work?
I think that'll have to wait until at least the second date
He does not like the sound of that
Don't tell me you re a murderer or some other crazy shit
And if I was?
Funny.
∆
The next day he goes into work a little bleary-eyed. And the reason why is shocking.
He stayed up talking to Jonathan. A man. On a sex app that's fronted as a dating app to straight people. He also unfortunately does not regret it as much as he should. Especially as he makes a run to the bathroom after hand off with Jack and receives a message.
Thought you could use a pick me up for your shift doctor 😉
(see attachment)
Fuck him sideways. Actually, please. He almost forgot he told him what he does for work, regardless of his reluctance to share his own profession, in light of the very tasteful nude he's received.
His dick isn't fully in the picture, he may have shared too much about his affinity for the man's muscles earlier so they are the focus, but he can see how full it is in between his legs and he hasn't wanted to blow someone this bad since med school. He finds himself wanting to lick a line between every sun kissed centimeter of his skin. Wanting to get a hand on every bulging part of him.
God man
You make me feel tempted to reciprocate
I wouldn't be mad
Actually l'd beg, I'm sure that body of yours is insane.
Insane is definitely a word for it. But it almost makes him feel bad if he just walks away now. So he's getting half nude in a PTMC single bathroom. What is happening to him?
(see attachment)
Fuck look at you
All that hair
And that stomach
I could eat you fucking whole
He cannot be getting hard at work. He can't. Point blank. He needs to collect himself, this is already getting out of hand.
-
He should be ashamed. Embarrassed. A "I need to kill myself" kind of sinfully guilty. But he's not, not even a little bit.
Seeing Robby's face pull up on his feed was a shocker to say the least. But the underlying pining he's had for his best friend for the past few years came roaring into his brain...and his dick, and he was messaging the man before he knew it.
Jack almost told him it was himself, he honestly did. He intentionally has his full legal name and a photo of himself with no face in it because he was worried about this exact thing - a person he knows seeing him on this app. But then Robby kept responding to his texts. And he couldn't do it. He knew with astounding confidence that he would cut the whole ordeal off if he knew it was his long time best friend at the other end. So he stayed in the shadows like the disgusting pervert he is.
But this pervert is having way too much fun. He is trying to quell his now boner in the parking lot of both of their jobs at the picture that Robby just sent him.
The image itself is knee weakening alone, don't get him wrong. But just the idea of Robby in the bathroom, pulling his scrubs up, and snapping a picture to send to Jack is enough to get him groaning in the not so privacy of his car.
He is not letting the possibilities of this opportunity slip through his fingers now.
∆
The first time he sent Jonathan a full nude, he felt awkward and misplaced. He was laying on his bed, post shift, in the dim light of his lamp, talking to this man like he's a virgin or something, feeling weird as all hell trying to get a picture of himself that didn't make him seeth, it was bad. But he did it. The send button was already pressed. No going back.
(see attachment)
for your generosity
Lord knows he's gotten a plethora of variously angled photos from this hunk of a man in this past week. The one who seems perfectly content to not have fucked, or be fucked by, him yet. A fact that is getting increasingly harder to ignore. This is turning into a lot less "let's have sex once and move on" and a lot more "I like you as a person, can I have your phone number?"
He didn't get a response until the next morning this time. Which admittedly made him a little suspicious. But the response he got was enough to quell his anxiety this one time, especially with a long shift ahead of him.
I think I just came
Or I'm about to
What the fuck
You're everything
I need to see you lose your mind with pleasure and I need to be the one to do it.
What a way to start his day.
What a way to also remind him, as aforementioned, that he hasn't had this man yet. Not like he's desperate to end this nice back and forth they have, but he did download this app for a very specific reason.
I don't think I can play this game anymore
You're driving me insane
Don't like me anymore?
Like you too much
Too much pent up energy
Me too baby
But nothing was sent after that. Interesting. He's not interested in fighting for him. He's not a chaser for random men on apps, never ever. But he might lose his mind if they don't fuck. Cause at this point, who the hell else can capture his attention like this motherfucking silver fox has?
...He knows the answer
Nobody.
∆
Jack was not reluctant because of a lack of interest. He's been wanting to get in that man's pants for a long time. But the moment he pulls up at his apartment, which he already has the address for, or vice versa, this perfectly built fantasy world will collapse like a tower of cards. And he can't have that quite yet. It's going to take a little bit more of a push on his restraint first.
He unfortunately did get that sooner than he'd like.
Robby came into work early one day after a night of borderline sexting. If Jack got off from just that conversation alone in a bathroom when he should be out working, that's between him, his dick, and the walls. But that's besides the point, the point is that he sent him a message of appreciation when he finally had the time to after a long stint spent in a trauma room working on an MVA patient.
just wanted to let you know how much this shit is affecting me
how much you're affecting me
Too much vulnerability? Maybe. But it's too late to regret it now. Too late to find the regret when he finished hand off with the same man he sent that to, stayed overtime to chat with Dana a bit, and thus watches the exact moment Robby finally reads the DM.
The man smiles softly, and Jack can feel the vibration of his phone whenever he sends his response.
Tell me about it
(see video)
Shit, he's never gotten a video before. But Robby's dick is full and leaking in just the preview, and he needs to go home immediately.
His eyes track the man as he follows one of the students to South and he knows he also needs to get the truth out because he just watched his unknowing coworker/long time friend send him a personal porno at the beginning of his shift.
He has the night off, he's doing this.
-
Right as soon as his shift ends, he gets a response from Jonathan.
what if I come over tonight
finally
you absolutely can
I'll send you my address
don't need it.
what?
He gets no response after that. It leaves him on edge, much like some of the other things this man does that he couldn't explain. What is this guy really on about, what is he about?
The questions spiral and the annoyance increases until he gets a knock on his door. Here goes nothing. He walks up, opens it, and. And it's Jack.
"Oh, hey brother, you didn't tell me you wanted to come over today."
"Yes I did."
With significant effort, he has to quell the way Jack's tone pisses him off. It's not his fault he's in a bad mood.
"What are you talking about?", he says with an incredulous laugh.
He pulls out his phone, scrolls a bit, and faces the screen towards him.
And his stomach fucking drops.
"Wha-"
"I know. It's horrible of me and I'm a horrible person and you can hate my fucking guts all you want. But I couldn't be honest with you because I knew that you never would want me like this-"
"-Jack"
"I will leave right know if you want me to, in fact I should've never come-"
"-Jack"
"Dude I'm really so-"
"Jack! Shut the fuck up."
He does. Okay.
"It's been you the whole time?"
He just nods.
Robby stands there and grapples with that information. The pictures. The videos. The very inappropriate texts. Those have all been to Jack. And he's readily returned it all. His incredibly attractive best friend he's been trying to ignore his feelings for has been pretending like they don't know each other so he can sext him on a gay hook up app.
"Do you need me to go."
"No. I need you to get your ass in here and do exactly what you DM'ed for."
Jack's heart stopped. But his brain went into overdrive. And he's never been a man to hesitate.
To be quite honest with you all I do think that aro/ace-spectrum fans in fandoms where people are desperately inventing crossover ships and humanizing non-human characters in order to have a conventionally attractive guy to ship the main character with, instead of possibly having to enjoy a story with no romance in it, have the right to refer to everyone else as cowards.
Is that Project Angel Food video very recent? Cuz oh gosh they really heard all our prayers HIS BEARD, THAT HAIR LENGTH??? HELLO DOCTOR MICHAEL RO-BEAR ROBINAVTICHHH??? *wails*
"Oh," Jack said, once he'd peeled back the brown paper wrapping. "Well, it's, uh. It's woollen. Got good thermal resistance. Thanks, Robby."
Jack's ma had raised him to be specific and prompt in his thanks for any gift received, but the unforeseen flaw with that life advice, Jack now realised, was that you had to be able to tell what the gift was.
"Yeah?" Robby looked shockingly bashful for a grown-ass man whom Jack had seen just this past shift float a transvenous pacer as deft and as calm as you like, with all the authority in his voice that came from years of experience. What a difference a couple of hours and sitting down with a cup of coffee in Jack's kitchen could make. "I mean, if you don't like it that's fine, I know I still have a lot to learn. But I thought that yarn was a good blue, it'd go with those cargo pants you wear all the time."
"It's a sock," Jack said, as realisation hit. He looked down at the woollen lump in his hands. He didn't know much about knitting, but he'd had as much general sock experience as the average person for the first 32 years of his life and he didn't think that socks generally had these, well, proportions. His heel didn't protrude that much; his foot had the standard factory-install number of toes. But this, apparently, was a sock. A sock with an incredible number of dropped stitches for something made by a man so good at suturing that Jack wouldn't bet against him being able to do so a perfect running suture on a wound with his eyes closed.
"The woman at the yarn store said that most people start with making squares because they're easier." Robby sounded faintly bemused, scratched at his cheek. "But I thought, sure, but then what would I do with a bunch of wool squares?"
"So you made me a sock," Jack said. Its appearance and the fact that it looked like it existed in several dimensions beyond the usual three aside, the sock was incredibly soft. It didn't feel at all like it was made from the kind of cheap acrylic stuff that his niece sometimes used, along with an abundance of glitter and glue sticks, in her grade-school crafting projects. Jack didn't think this was bargain bin stuff.
"My therapist told me I needed a hobby," Robby said with a shrug, and it was a testament to how much work he'd been putting in over the past few months that he could now say my therapist without looking like just the shape of the words on his tongue was going to make him puke. "Didn't say it couldn't be a useful hobby."
Of course, there was still lots of work to be done.
"You made me a sock," Jack realised.
Robby flushed. "I wasn't trying to be pointed, or a dick, or... Just, making that one took me a solid month so I thought I'd get feedback from you before I started the second one."
"Feedback?" Jack placed the lumpy quasi-sock down on the kitchen table in front of him, smoothed it out as much as he could with careful hands. He thought about how Robby had worked on this for weeks and weeks, for him. He cleared his throat. He said, "My, uh, my therapist has also been encouraging me to find alternative hobbies that aren't—"
"Being fucking shot at in the defence of a bunch of cut-price TVs?"
They were not having this argument again, so Jack said, "Only the thing is, I don't think I need a hobby right now. I think what I need is… Well."
"What?"
"Pete says that I'm possibly very service-oriented and my sense of duty is maybe a bit over-developed—"
Robby snorted.
"—so he gave me some homework to do on like, doing something because I want to for me." Jack paused and wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his thighs. "And, and it took me a few weeks but I realised that TEMS, all of that, I wasn't doing it because I was bored. I was doing it because I was lonely."
People knew what to do with grief better than they did when it came to loneliness. They'd bring you a casserole and tell you how sorry they were the week after a drunk ran a red light and killed your wife, but there was no script to follow for so you've never lived alone in your whole life before but boom, you've got a three-bedroom ranch all to yourself, the perfect size for the kids you'll never have now. His sister told him he had a standing invitation to come visit them in Oklahoma City for the holidays, but there was no one around that Jack felt would ever offer him the same thing for seven on any random Tuesday. Except—
"But you should know first," Jack said, "this isn't because I'm lonely in general. It's also not because of the sock, although it's not not because of the sock, it's about you and me, and—"
Robby squinted at him. "Jack."
"Fine, okay, whatever, fuck words," Jack said, and he stood, leaned across the kitchen table, and he kissed Robby. His best friend, his confidant, the voice he could orient by in the darkness, and it was weird to kiss someone with a beard but it was hot, too, turned Jack on even before Robby made that little noise in the back of his throat and kissed him back and oh, oh shit, Jack had fucking genius ideas that—
Robby pulled back, eyes heavy-lidded, and said, "Really?"
"Yes, really," Jack said, teetering on the edge of the rest of his life, "yes, you, totally."
Robby reached up and cradled Jack's cheek in one hand and such a simple gesture shouldn't make Jack's eyes sting, but it did. "Bedroom?"
Jack nodded fervently but said, "One condition."
"I'm listening," Robby said, but given that he was already standing, fisting Jack's t-shirt in one hand and towing him out of the kitchen, Jack was fairly sure the agreement here was a mere formality.
"All the socks come off first," Jack said, and Robby laughed, bright and delighted, and walked faster.
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