Tag Archives: Sex

The Guysexual’s Brutally Honest Review Of Planet Romeo

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We’ve grinded at clubs with Grindr, scratched away at Scruff’s rough surface and had a tryst with ’90s style dating with Hinge. But what do you do when your needs are more carnal and less ‘Can-we-have-another-spectacular-date-again?’

Look at that app skulking away in the corner? It’s Planet Romeo.

What it is: Planet Romeo is the bane of homosexual existence, but such a necessary evil. A German-based networking portal for LGBT ‘singles who are looking to mingle’, Romeo can rightly be called the deeper end of the online dating pool — don’t get me wrong, I’ve found a handful of interesting people there, but it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. For every interesting person you connect with, you have to sieve through a hundred hopefuls of ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Hello’s’, all with ‘a place’, or worse, a bed. It’s the Yahoo chat room of the new millennium.

Only this isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

How it works: Frankly, Planet Romeo is an online directory of men to sleep with — page after page full of profiles of horny men, looking for everything from ‘Now’ to ‘Why not now?’

As a veteran, you feel an odd adrenaline rush every time you log in: the ta-da-ding message alert syncs with your heartbeat (or your libido) and urges you to open the app every 30 minutes (which you will).

Then, as you browse the lists for men you might be sexually interested in, you can decide whether you want to send them a ‘footprint’ (great butt, hot c*ck, fun guy, handsome face, you get the gist), and leave them as souvenirs for the boys you want to keep as souvenirs. Once thoughts (and sexual preferences) match, people exchange numbers, and bodily fluids. Sex has never been so simple.

Since Planet Romeo can get so addictive, most gay men spend a major part of their formative years on it. An anonymous friend has multiple profiles up — one is faceless, asking for ‘discreet M2M fun’, another hides behind a tantalising picture of Ranbir Kapoor. A third, a close up of his excruciatingly well-defined torso seeks immediate sexual gratification, while the fourth shows his face in all its glory, dimples et al — that’s when he’s looking for something serious, but he’s never had to use it yet.

‘I needed to find myself,’ he says to me — and on his way, he found Rajiv, Faiz, Rishi, Kabir and half a dozen other gay men. He likes the variety, he tells me later, as he meets me for a coffee between two dates. ‘Sometimes, if you are lucky, you even get a callback for a threesome’. That’s what he hopes the second one would be, as he gulps down his coffee to boost his sex drive all over again. He’s got the first boy waiting on speed dial.

I have nothing to say, so I simply sip at my iced tea. Rampant sex aside, what’s the plus point of Planet Romeo?

You don’t have to audition to get into anyone’s bed. Unless you want to role-play.

When do you use it: to feed your weekly (or daily, no judging) case of post-midnight blues (or blue balls).

What I like about it: flapping d*cks and a patchwork quilt of sculpted abs aside; Planet Romeo really is very nonchalant about its chief purpose. In so many ways, it’s like your cool aunt who knows about your sexual history, but makes sure she buys you a pack of condoms before you step out for your hot date — Planet Romeo’s info zone shares free (and reliable, unlike WebMD) information about STDs — emphasising the importance of safe sex and condoms.

The fact that it has the largest user base makes this that much more important.

What I don’t like about it: Cluttered with virtual ads, pop up windows and profiles of boys-who’d-rather-pick-your-bodies-than-your-brains, Planet Romeo is as confusing to navigate as your quarterly Zara Sale (sans the clothes, obviously).

But that’s not all. One of the other downsides of Planet Romeo is how NSFW it is for any place apart from the dark confines of your bedroom. Work? Definitely not. Gym? If you don’t want to be deadlifted.  Your daily train rides? Unless embarrassment is the last stop.

 Bonus feature: The upgraded 2018 version of Planet Romeo is full of bonus features (and hopefully, no STDs):

  • Ask Mother: Just like how mothers help nurture a baby, this section offers relationship tips and advice for gay men to nurture their relationships. Unlike your mother, it also tells you to use the app.
  • “G-rated” Version: PlanetRomeo allows nude photos and adult content on their website. However, members who wish to screen out sexual content can choose this option. Think of this like ‘Netflix for Kids’, but secretly hope there aren’t any underage-children here.
  • Automatic Logout: If you are inactive for a period of 10 minutes, you will be automatically logged out of PlanetRomeo. No more catfishing by your colleagues (or your slightly devious friends).
  • Happy Friday: Most of the PlanetRomeoplus features are available for free on Fridays to all its members — Happy Hours for everyone!
  • Planet Radio: When you are browsing through thousands of profiles on PlanetRomeo you can choose to play your favorite internet radio station. Why should musicians have all the fun?

Who is it for: Anyone who’s looking for pure, uninhibited, unadulterated sex. Carry a condom.

Guysexual’s Grade-o-meter:

Hookability: 10/10

Compatibility: 4/10

Usability: 5/10

Downloadability: 9/10

The Milestones Of Falling In And Out of Love

 

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Falling in love is a lot like running a marathon. Based on how well you are prepared, you either give up midway or sprint through the finish line of long-term bliss. If you are happy, you start of fresh, and end up raring to go all over again.

But whether your romance is a race, a haiku poem, a star-studded musical, an epic trilogy or a game of chess, here are the ten milestones you’ll cross in every relationship:

Hello

Congratulations! You have a new match!

Whether you found your recent paramour on Tinder, Grindr or Bro, there’s no denying that he has something that the other torsos (infesting the dating app of your choice) don’t. You giggle over puns, gush over the fact that both of you love yoga (after organic tea) and secretly screenshot his volunteering pictures from his time last year with Habitat for Humanity. You spend nights flirting over Grindr, lighting up with every beep.

At some point, you realise it makes sense to take it to the next level. You exchange your digits, because it’s too early to exchange rings.

Text-dancing

You’ll soon play a Ping-Pong game of texts, sending sweet nothings to each other that sometimes really mean nothing at all. It’s a dance — sometimes it’s the rumba, sometimes it’s the salsa, sometimes it’s a good ol’ fashioned waltz. It’s a constant struggle of who messages first: will he? Won’t he? Will he? Won’t he?

It feels hopeless.

After many sleepless nights spent waiting for a text so you don’t seem desperate by sending two in a row (until you eventually mesh into a mash of texts, photos, memes and plans to meet for coffee), you’ll reach the point where you don’t care who’s supposed to message next.

And you’ll send him one yourself.

First kiss

The kiss is the universal shorthand for intimacy. One minute you are smiling and stumbling your way into each other’s arms, and just like that, you are there — even before you can stop and ask for directions. It hits your core, and tingles all the way down to your Vitamin D deficient toes. The first kiss is a relationship milestone that usually makes its way to long-forgotten journals and recycled rom-coms, so make sure it counts.

Side note: Brownie points if he makes the first move. Even more brownie points if you make the first move.

Sex

You’ve bought the fresh new sheets. You’ve bought the condoms. You’ve bought the oils. And if you’re feeling fancy, you’ve even bought some aromatherapy candles. You’ve huffed and puffed and planned to blow the house down. Your romp lasts the entire duration of the La La Landsoundtrack, and feels like it too.

You might have liked it. You might have not. You might have clawed at his chest. You might have clawed at his back. You might have come. You might have not. Irrespective of whether you’ve orgasmed or not (because you like him enough to ignore the average sex for a while), you race your libido to the next stage.

The Honeymoon

Drool all over each other, and store your love in pictures on your phone and empty condom wrappers. Go on a date. Go on two. Go on a dozen. Go on a gazillion dates. Seize the moment, and capture as much of this phase as you can, because you are going to need it when you are old and withered.

Meeting the friends

You slowly permeate into his inner circle, while secretly hating each and every one of his friends. You courtesy and smile your way through the gang, answering the same questions over and over again till your smile freeze frames into a Polaroid picture. You guffaw with them about his exes (even though you don’t want to) and tell them the heartwarming tale of how you met (even though they don’t want to). Everyone knows you are a breakup away from never seeing each other ever again

As you repeat anecdote after anecdote, he tilts back his head and gives you a reassuring nod. You smile back because you can’t wait for him to do the same.

Moving in

You’ve made all the right moves till now, and you’ve officially reached move day.

Your toothbrush joins his, and your painkillers find their own little sweet spot in his shower cabinet. Your socks tangle with his, your underwear finds its own intimate drawer, you even find your side of the bed (the one that doesn’t face the window). You are just moments away from getting matching towels.

As you unpack and spread your life all over his, applaud. This is where the rollercoaster begins.

First fight

It starts off with something small. An unanswered phone call. An unfed cat. A vague remark on their weight that may or may not have coincided with their birthday. You begin with a few well-placed jabs — a passive aggressive joke here, an eye roll there, it’s all in good humour. And then before you know it, the riptide of witty banter transforms into verbal blows — Why? How? What? When?

As you bombard each other with words, stares, rolls of clothes and love bites, you have an epiphany. You are in your first official fight, but you’ll make peace with it — a scar that heals, but never fades. You’ll walk out of your cocoon into the next one.

Congratulations! You’ve moved on to the next level.

Moving away

This is when it gets tricky. Bags are packed, kisses are exchanged, but feelings are not. He’s going to leave a boyfriend-sized hole in your heart, and it sucks at your soul as if it were the last sip of Coca Cola. One of you is moving away. To a different school. To a different neighbourhood. To a different city. A different state. A different country. A different continent.

You survive, as long as it’s not a different person.

Settling In

You’ve reached that point when you can function without needing each other all the time. There’s love; but it’s hidden behind boxes of Chinese takeout and IOU’s on the fridge. You wake up, and kiss him without worrying about morning breath. Sometimes, you don’t even take a shower before dinner. You aren’t a jigsaw puzzle anymore, but you occasionally solve one on Sundays.

This might take weeks, it might take months, and sometimes, it might even take years. But when it does, take solace in the fact that you’ve reached the white noise. Enjoy the complacency.

You’ve reached end game.

Every Man’s Guide to Surviving A Breakup

 

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It’s happened.

So you’ve just gone through (what you feel is) the worst breakup of your life. You’re standing all alone in your apartment, with your now-no-longer-jointly-owned cat, half of your belongings, and half of your heart. You’re single and stressing out over waking up to an empty bed, and an emptier life.

But I’ll tell you a secret.

You’re obviously going to get through it. All you need are a few essentials to start over before you get back in the game. So how about you prep your house (and your heart) with this essential Post-Breakup Bachelor Pad Survival Kit?

1. Crisp white sheets

Nothing screams the single life than brand new white sheets, completely devoid of the stains and smells of your monstrous ex.

It makes your dull, depressing apartment (and you) appear larger and brighter, and is the perfect background for the various vacation flings you’ll bring back home over the weeks to come.

2. A super-sized box of condoms

All the vacation flings that you bring back home aren’t going to cover themselves.

3. Instant noodles

You’ll need packets and packets of instant noodles, because you won’t feel like cooking anything more complicated. It’s your 4 am friend and you can douse it with everything you’ve got — the spare bit of ricotta cheese, some tomato ketchup, a little smidgeon of Tabasco, oregano that you painstakingly collected over years of pizza deliveries, a healthy drizzle of soy sauce and the dozen expletives you didn’t use in your goodbye email.

And as you wait the quintessential two minutes for the water to boil, you can cry. Because that’s enough time to cry your heart out.

4. A tub of your favourite ice cream flavour in the fridge

Ice cream solves what retail therapy can’t. Enough said.

5. A strong resolve

Every once in a while, you’ll have this sudden urge. It will hit you in the middle of the night as you toss in bed, or when you are answering emails at work. It might even hit you when you’re writing out a birthday card for the best friend. This is the urge to get back in touch with your ex, and ask him to take you back. You’ll beg, you’ll plead, you’ll reason, and you’ll hate.

For those tough moments, you’ll need a tough heart.

6. An emptier smartphone

Delete the texts, the pictures from your vacation last year, the bill receipts from your dates, the sexts you sent each other on your anniversary and the screenshots you saved to use in a fight later (and did). Delete it all. Cleanse your phone, and then use it to call a friend over. Call all your friends over.  Share your ice cream and your instant noodles with all of them. Repeat till you are happy.

7. A Netflix account with high speed Internet

The only remedy to the perfect post-breakup life is HD quality television, free of commercial breaks (and moments to linger back to your vile ex.)

Good luck binge watching through three seasons of Black Mirror as you try your best to chew on your lukewarm instant noodles from last night.

8. A bottle (or crate) of Cabernet Sauvignon stacked away in the closet

There’s nothing like some Bordeaux loving to get you out of your slump, and into bed with the cute writer you’ve been flirting with all of last week.

9. A yoga mat

At some point, you’d open the blinds and want to lose all the ice-cream induced weight. You’d want to get back in the dating game. You’d want to look like the best version of yourself.

On that day, you’ll buy yourself a yoga mat (because deep down you know you’ll never stick to a gym membership right till the very end). You’d effectively end up using the mat as a background for your next Grindr picture.

10. Optimism

One day, after an hour’s worth of Pilates on your new yoga mat, you’ll sit up straighter than before and tell yourself that this isn’t the worst moment of your life. You’ll throw out the leftover ice cream and drink the last bottle of wine. You’ll wash the noodle-stained vessels and put them away. You’ll tell yourself that you’ll be OK.

You’ll eventually start believing it. Because you will be OK.

Dear Gay Men, Are You Addicted to Grindr?

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‘Are you a Grindrophile?’

If you’ve already been asked this question and are reading this column, purging through dating hacks and lists, the answer is probably yes. Which brings us to question number two — if Grindr was a boy, would you date him?

Don’t bother checking out his profile, there’s only one way to find out.  Every point you rack up on this super special-edition Grindr Bucket List Game brings you one step closer to having an epiphany — the same one that begs you to end it once and for all, and delete the beauty that Grindr is.

Continue reading Dear Gay Men, Are You Addicted to Grindr?

Ask The Guysexual: Love And Other Drugs Vol III

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Gay men collect questions like they collect friends.

Want to pack up and move on to the next step of your relationship with your boyfriend? Is mauve better than lavender? Does love really not cost a thing? How soon is too soon to say those three words, eight letters? Am I really as cynical as I seem online? More importantly, do you think I am cynical?

Now find answers to all these questions and more in #AskGuysexual’s Love And Other Drugs: Vol. III:

Dear Guysexual,

I’ve been in a loving relationship the past few months, and my boyfriend wants us to move in together.  I really don’t mind, but his parents keep visiting every few months and I am not sure whether I am ready for that kind of intensity in the relationship.  What should I do?

— BoomMate

Dear BoomMate,

Moving in with the boyfriend is the boss level at the end of every video game — your toothbrush joins his, and your antidepressants find their own little sweet spot in his shower cabinet. Your socks tangle in a passionate mess, your underwear finds its own intimate drawer, you even find your side of the bed (the one that doesn’t face the window). You are officially just moments away from getting matching towels. As you unpack and spread your life all over his, applaud. This is where the rollercoaster begins.

But it’s not necessarily where it ends either. When living with your parents can be quite the task, living with a set that belongs to someone else can be trickier — this is the bonus level where you fight a new big bad for brownie points. Firstly, you’ll have to deal with the following questions:

Do you say hello at breakfast just hours after you’ve done the nasty with their son?

How much small talk do you make as you ask them to pass the salt?

Are you supposed to make small talk as you ask them to pass the salt?

Most importantly, is it even polite to ask them to pass the salt?

It can go either way — you might be tugging at their heartstrings with heartwarming stories of your day at work, or playing tug of war for your boyfriend’s attention instead. It’s a risk everyone has to take at some point in his or her life, but is it one you want to take?

Like I said, you’ll be asking a lot of questions before you choose to pack those boxes up — just make sure you have the answers to them before you decide to split the rent (and the time with his parents).

Or you just might have to move away with the same boxes you arrived with.

Dear Guysexual,

I met a really great guy close to two months ago, and our relationship has skyrocketed ever since. I met his friends, and he met mine — and everybody is gaga about each other. I read somewhere that when you meet the One, you just know, and I feel like he’s the One for me. Do you think it’s too soon to tell him I love him?

— LoveFool91

Dear LoveFool91,

Quick question. Do you know what New Year’s Eve, the microwave and the American Billboard Top 100 have in common?

They all have a ticker — a numerical countdown that trickles down to the grand prize as you watch with bated breath — in this case, the New Year (and a new you), hot food, and everyone’s favourite top-rated song that’s currently playing at all the clubs around the world.

That’s the thing about tickers — they make everything about the destination, and leave little for the journey — how often do you hear of people who made their resolutions at 11.57 pm, or jive to no. 9 on the Billboard Top 100?

Just about never. Fortunately, there’s no countdown when it comes to love — because no ticker can ever tell you if you are ready to tell someone how you feel about them. Yes, every little instance counts to the big moment — your first fight, your first kiss, the first time you went to buy groceries together, the first time you bickered while out on a weekend getaway, the first time you spilled your drink on his shirt, the first time you farted, but every little instance is also the big moment. There will be many firsts, just like there will be the first time you tell him you love him.

If you feel like he’s the One, make sure you tell him right away.

Just make sure you don’t do it while you are farting.

Dear Guysexual,

It’s amazing that you’ve been solving matters of the heart for everyone else, but I was wondering if there’s someone who does it for you — what’s your secret?

— ConcernedGuy4You

Dear ConcernedGuy4You,

Firstly, I am going to take that backhanded compliment and store it in my tiny jar of self-validation — it’s little things like these that make me hate myself a little less every morning.

Just kidding. I love myself.

And that’s my secret.

I learn, laugh, love and live. You’ve probably seen the same advice on a DIY Pinterest board, because that’s where I saw it as well. If people learned to appreciate themselves a wee bit more, I wouldn’t be paying my bills writing an advice column.

PS: Although when it comes to matters of the heart, I just consult The Gay Man’s Guide To Dating (out now on Juggernaut Books) by the Guysexual (yours truly). Shameless self-promotion aside, sometimes even the ‘self-help section’ of the library needs help, just like everyone else does.

Have questions that you still need answers to? Tweet them over to @theguysexual and get them answered in #AskGuysexual’s Love And Other Drugs: Volume IV next month!

 

The Guysexual’s Guide To Every Fuckboy In The World

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Kartik, 28 (my copywriter friend who gets a mention every few weeks) matched with Atul, a senior associate at a top legal firm, about two years ago. They bonded over their love for bad puns, great gin and the fact that they were both self-proclaimed Ravenclaws. What could I say?

Wit beyond measure led them to each other’s treasure trails.

For Kartik (as is usual), it was love at first swipe. Like most millennial love stories, it had its (mostly) highs and (many) lows. But something still seemed wrong — the dates were always at home, friends were never involved and future plans were never made. Their trysts started late, but Kartik was never invited to stay the night (including that one time when he puked all over the bathroom floor).

It seemed strange, but Kartik (being Kartik) decided not to second-guess things. He continued making bad puns, and drinking great gin. Why wouldn’t he?

Atul was a great many things. He was smart. He was handsome. He was successful. He was charming. He was a dipsomaniac.

Atul was also a F**kboy.

The quintessential f**kboy (just like Atul) is not always very easy to spot, considering his adaptive nature and ability to blend in. The F**kboy is everywhere (and more importantly, anywhere). Smiling behind you at the checkout aisle in the supermarket. Making googly eyes in the subway. At the library. In your poetry class. In the bus. At the local pub. In your untouched list of Tinder matches. Anyone who’s traversed through this giant desert of dating knows that finding a F**kboy is like finding a wild Rattata on Pokemon Go — it’s that common — which makes avoiding them that much more difficult. Want to know how to bypass the boys that most bad decisions are made of?

Look no further, kids. Here are some telltale signs the guy you are hopelessly crushing on, only plans to crush your heart after:

The F**kboy only messages you post midnight.

He’ll never disappoint.

The one time he messages you at 8 pm, is simply because his flat mates are away.

He drinks his cold pressed juices straight out of the carton.

Just like he drinks his pre-mixed cocktails straight out of plastic bottles.

The f**kboy is an amalgamation of bad pick-up lines, expensive perfume and template text messages that he broadcasts to his little black book of men.

All three have high success rates.

He hoards up on all his used condom wrappers, because ‘how else will he know that he’s the supreme sex god that he claims to be?’

He addresses you as his bro. Even when he meets you in person.

And he doesn’t mean it in the endearing “I-am-so-comfortable-around-you-I-can-call-you-anything’ kind of way.

He’s always vague about his Friday night plans.

But he already has advance tickets for Tomorrowland 2019.

The F**kboy doesn’t snuggle. He prefers the post-coital smoke to the post-coital cuddle.

His idea of the perfect date includes drinks at a dive bar, and dessert back at his place. Dinner is usually not a part of the deal, unless you offer to eat it off him.

He wears his charm like he wears his signature perfume.

Bottles of it at a time.

He introduces you to his friends as a ‘friend from work that he bumped into’.

Eight months into knowing you. You never see them again.

Or all his friends know who you exactly are, but they act like they know something that you obviously don’t: that he’s seeing other people.

He’s always busy when it’s time to meet your friends.

Once it was his dog’s funeral. Twice it was a late night at the office.

And thrice, it was his mother’s birthday.

In the same year.

The F**kboy rolls up his shirtsleeves to just below his elbows, because he likes to live on the edge.

He likes to drive with his windows open, and uses styling mousse so that his hair doesn’t look ‘too windswept.’ Sometimes he doubles it up as lubricant.

He never lets you stay, and has an excuse ready every time you suggest pulling out your jammies. Sometimes it’s a early morning gym session at 5 am. Sometimes it’s an over inquisitive maid who can’t mind her own business. Sometimes it’s an Uber he booked for you when you were cleaning up in the bathroom.

He likes his boys just like he likes his chardonnay.

Free flowing, and out of his system the next morning.

He doesn’t see the point of crossword puzzles, middle school trigonometry or commitment.

He downloads Grindr Xtra just so he can get unlimited blocks.

And an unlimited pass into everyone’s pants.

At some point in your relationship, he’ll tell you that you are the One.

He’ll also tell the same thing to Rizwan. To Sam. To Kabir. To Nikhil. To Rahul. To Kiran. To Sameer. To Zishaan.

He breaks up with you eventually, because ‘he’s not good enough for you, and you deserve better,’ He doesn’t reply to your texts, phone calls (and that one long winding drunken email) after.

That’s the thing.

The F**kboy will only lead you to another one. And another one. And another one. He’ll lead you through a string of bad decisions, heartbreak and life-altering mistakes.

You’ll sigh every time, but you’ll never learn.

Now go message your Atul.

The Avengers of Online Dating: Six Super Liars To Stay Away From!

 

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Staggering amounts of people lie on their online dating profiles.

People lie about their age, they lie about their weight, they lie about what they do, and sometimes they even lie about ‘who they do’ (or don’t). We all like to pretend to be someone else once in a while, and we love doing so especially on our dating profiles — pulling on those masks of deceit, and becoming the best version of ourselves — if superheroes (and supervillains) like the Avengers can do it, why shouldn’t we?

While our favourite ensemble might be gathering troops and picking sides to fight the Infinity War in the recently released trailer, these are the six (Sc)Avengers (doing the rounds of the online dating world) that you definitely need to avoid giving your infinity stone to:

The Hulk

In all his glory, the Hulk is your bulked up Adonis, with a profile to match. With his bulging biceps and cheekbones that need to grace a GQ feature, he looks like the ultimate Men’s Health model. But while it’s common for all of us to fudge the details of our height and weight a little (adding an inch or two or subtracting a kilogram or two from our stats as we fill up our profiles and our egos), the Hulk takes it to a whole new level.

I’ll let you in on something.

The Hulk has lied about his high cheekbones. He has lied about his side obliques that can cut glass. He even lied about those buns of steel. In all probability, your modern day Bruce Banner is a gawky 17-year-old who’s voice is just breaking.

Just like your heart is right now.

The Black Widow

Raj was verbally abusive. Sam told him to go see a therapist. Danny would never call back. Kabir found it hard to commit. Rajeev never stopped calling. Shyam decided to tell his friends why they broke up. Tom called up his mom to tell her that her son is a psycho. Akbar called him a cheating scumbag. Ryan threatened to set his house on fire.

Do you see the pattern? You obviously do. The Black Widow spins a gossamer web of lies that’s built on douchebag exes, quivering voicemails and heartbreaking breakups.

But that’s the thing. If a boy spews venom about an ex or two, it’s fine — we all have relationships that sour out. But if he badmouths every boy he’s ever been with, the chances that you are next on his kill list are as just as likely.

The Hawkeye

The Hawkeye is always watching.

With his keen sense of intuition and the hours he’s spent lurking on your social media feed, (memorising your tweets and liking your brunch pictures on Instagram) he knows the virtual version (and shape) of you by heart.

He knows you like your matcha tea, reality television and Internet cat videos. He knows you prefer your coffee black and your boys brown. He knows the street you live on, and (if he’s good), he even knows your bank account details.

He’ll use all these details to woo you: crack a ‘Bachelor in Paradise’ joke that he probably picked up from the internet, share a Instagram photo of his matcha Frappuccino, or tag you in a viral cat meme — it’s like a meet-cute from a movie, but also it’s just as scripted. He’ll continue pursuing you with all his likes and lies till he steals your heart away.

And if things don’t work out, he’ll use his skills to steal all your money instead.

The Iron Man

The Iron Man seems like he’s the Tony Stark of the online dating world. He’s suave, charming and seems like a man who knows everyone who matters — he tells you he’s had breakfast with A-listers from Bollywood (he’ll tell you about how Ranveer Singh makes the best gluten-free pancakes), he went bowling with Rob Kardashian that one time he was in Los Angeles (before the whole Blac Chyna showdown, obviously) and exchanges daily texts with the crown prince of Saudi Arabia (where they talk about stock prices and women’s rights).

‘I know so many famous people, I don’t think of them as famous people any more’ he gushes to you, over text. When you do take the leap of faith and believe him, and casually ask to share pictures of him with all his red carpet buddies — he mysteriously disappears on you, and you never get the VIP Pass access to his pants.

The Thor

Your blue-eyed boy is perfect on paper — he’s sweet, good-natured and (also) a treat to look at, plus his profile is spiked with inspirational quotes that change your life. He’s so amazing; he could be your custom-made Prince Charming on steroids. Does that sound too good to be true?

Because he is too good to be true. Your god of thunder is all rumble, and no spark when you two actually do meet, which will only happen once you share a dick pic on Grindr — after which the transformation from demigod to douchebag is as certain as another Thor sequel (the real one).

PS: No points for guessing that he doesn’t come with Thor’s magic hammer either (in his pants, or otherwise).

The Captain America

Our Captain America is sitting miles and miles away — either in a leased apartment that is the size (and smell) of a matchbox, or a hostel dorm room dang in the middle of Nowheresville — but here you have your favourite dating app telling you he’s saying hello just from two blocks away.

The king of fake GPS, our resident globetrotter travels all over the world looking for that special someone. He spends breakfast scouting for boys in New York, wastes lunch looking for men in Paris and grabs dinner as he swipes through all the guys in Delhi — he might not have the money to tour the men around the globe, but he definitely has the APK tool kit on his smartphone to look at (and talk to) all of them. Chances are that as you read this sentence, he’s probably cosying up to dudes in Amsterdam, while he flicks channels in his flat in Ahmedabad.