#whether they’re boyfriends or girlfriends is up to the individual

[wintergreenoreo]

The Aston Martin & Mercedes safety cars are in love with each other and are in a gay relationship. Send post.

[banyanas]

Okay there is no Way this is gonna fit in the fic wordcount limit (and a lot of it is background understanding to all my other fics too lmao) so who wants to talk about fiddly somewhat mundane toad-centric worldbuilding in regards to Imperial Amphibia -> Caste System Implementation time period??? And even if you don't want to I'm showing it to you anyway.

The 4 tower lords (Cardinal Lords used as an older title when I write) as participants and vassals to the Newtopian military is... pretty new. Especially because toad clans didn't really have a formal military in the first place (and still don't- toad army we see is an arm/branch of the overall Newtopian/specifically Leviathan-ruled Amphibian military). Previously, of course everyone paid fealty (and taxes but we will get to those) to the crown, expected to follow the laws of the united empire under the Leviathan dynasty, but toad clanheads and lords acting in a formal military position in direct vassalage to another army is... definitely new. As far as 'new' goes for a place with an implied-lengthy history as Amphibia does.

Nowadays becoming a Cardinal Lord means becoming an officer- if said lord wasn't already one in the first place. It's a more concrete requirement in the modern era, but before that, hey, remember what I said about taxes? It's relevant just stick with me a bit pls.

So, with the Me-Brand toadbuilding, toads were traditionally nomadic, and likely a more pastoralist society (tarantula cheese...). This did include very few permanent communities toad caravans cycled through, usually as a place of trade/commerce and cultural significance (specifically cairns and mass gravesites) for individual and allied clans. And from there, the majority of toads split into a bunch of much smaller semi-mobile camps that joined and split, in accordance to whatever understanding or trade agreement or alliance or rivalry their clan might have with other clans. These towns are still around despite how vastly different they are, and three of them are in the territory of a Tower- South Tower is the exception to this, since the southern toad population used to be so heavily intermixed with frogs they lived pretty equally spread inside the same township. Which oof, way to show how things change for the worst in a thousand years.

Pre-Andrias, taxes could be paid in both currency and bulk goods or productions- and they could make that work, because of the seemingly-infinite power source music box battery maintaining all their tech and infrastructure. Frequently, this was how toads paid their taxes- a bit harder to do pure currency payments, as well as y'know not rlly paying property taxes due to not privately owning much land.

(It was also, I want to note, supplemented by raiding rival or enemy clans, because they’re still a martial society- they aren’t peaceful nomads before Andrias fucked up everything, they’re violent and there’s inherent problems with gatekeeping someone from community aspects on the basis of whether or not they've killed something/own a weapon. Which we will get to the owning a weapon thing Also in a bit).

Buttttt after the box was stolen, there were a few policy changes. Taxes were required as coppers- ostensibly to bolster restructuring efforts and stabilize the economy now that the Calamity tech that was the fulcrum for their ENTIRE INFRASTRUCTURE was burglarized. Coppers which they don’t have much use for and thus don't have much circulating… yeah. But hey, specifically military service can be offered instead of coppers for taxes, at least for toads and some newts. Doesn't hurt that offering an out from taxes via military enlistment keeps toads and some newts from kicking up a very bloody, very messy fuss while the whole 'I invented speciesism and an oppressive caste system because I'm mad at my girlfriend and boyfriend' thing was being pushed through to law. Between breaking the law with all the severe risk of a nasty punishment/heavy fine that entails, or military service with some Perks of Power for an already highly combative culture? Yeah, no-brainer for why we barely see any non-military toads on screen. (This entire thing is a pretty damn slick move when it comes to enforcing ranks and systems. And admittedly less hamfisted than what we see in modern canon because frankly I think Andrias stopped caring about being careful with his enforcement of it once it became more self-sustaining)

The very messy, very bloody messes did happen, btw. After the last rebellion early into Andrias's reign (mostly made up of toads and frogs working together. Man this just makes it even more depressing to see the state of things in modern eras), only toads that were either in training, currently enlisted, or veterans were allowed to own and carry weapons. Which, beyond the practical problems of 'Amphibia is a dangerous place with lots of things that want to kill, eat, and/or poison you', when toad rites of passage and traditions, up to and including standards for being considered and allowed to act as a legal adult, rely on the use, ownership, or exchange of weaponry and blades... hm. Oh dear.

It's even worse for the frogs btw. Unless a frog somehow ended up actively serving a military term (which they are discouraged to), frogs were disallowed weapons at all. Because de-fanging and controlling who is allowed to be armed is kinda one of the first steps to suppressing and controlling groups of people, with one of the OTHER steps being financially suppressing and controlling (see the taxes thing, upward movement being nearly impossible for frogs and toads). Also contributes to casualties for frogs being way higher than they used to, since if they're a law-abiding citizen and get caught by a hungry predator, or bandits on the road, or any number of things they cant just drive off with pitchforks and slingshots, they're kinda screwed! It's messed up! And it's usually disregarded by newts and toads, because frogs are light on their feet, quite springy, they can just run, yeah?

Fun fact tho, this makes the Plantar basement stash SUPER illegal for some spicy revolutionary reasons. Hell yes good for them.

[theloveexpert]

Relationship Myths That Singles Greatly Believe

Did you know that there are salient relationship myths that most singles greatly believe into? Before entering a relationship, you should ask yourself whether you’re ready to face certain relationship challenges and problems. As what I have mentioned on my previous articles, an individual is taking a huge risk when he finally decides to be in a relationship with someone. You should know that a relationship isn’t full of joy but it is also filled with sadness and problems. If you’re hearing lots of positive things from other couples then, you should remember that all relationships are imperfect.

On the other hand, are the beliefs that you always heard from toxic people. They didn’t know the real reason behind our decision. They should know that selecting a mate is the single most important decision in our life. This choice has the power to make all of our carefully made choices be fulfilling, healthy, and joyful or to make the same choices a part of a living hell. Yet, this prominent decision is one that the vast majority of us know nothing about and most of us get wrong almost every time which resulted in well-known consequences.

So, what are those biggest relationship myths that you should know? To know more about this, here’s an ideal guide for you. Check this one.

They say that it is wrong to confidently convey your feelings to a man.

One should know that there’s nothing wrong in expressing your true feelings to a man. When you can grasp your emotions and impart them to a man in plain language and in a way that doesn't fault or scrutinize him, a true man will definitely understand you. Finally, he has met a lady who can identify him without letting her feelings control her! Additionally, you're keeping the communication open, and this prompts a closer, more secured relationship in the future. I just found this website https://lesbianhookups.org/w4m/ which might help you find the one for you.

“You’re just attracted to him. You don’t love him.”

Being in a long term romantic interrelation with someone it is easy enough for you to tell whether you truly love your partner for who he/she truly is. Getting engaged doesn’t magically, instantly change your boyfriend or girlfriend into a dream like human, and with all of the added stress of wedding planning, you might seem some ugly sides come out. Add on adjusting to a married life, and really respecting and adoring someone becomes that much more important.  You must love all his/her beauty and his/her flaws as well.

“You like him because he’s making you happy. As I’ve said you can be happy without a man.”

As what I have mentioned above, if you’re getting married to someone it means that you would live with this person for the rest of your life. So, it is important also to ask yourself whether you greatly enjoy his/her company. Like being with him/her makes you happy and exciting. In addition, you’re okay with just being together sometimes, even while running errands or doing chores. You would rather wake up to them when they’re sick and cranky than to any other person. That’s where ‘liking’ becomes as important as ‘loving’

[baya-ni]

The Queer Appeal of Sk8

Recently @mulberrymelancholy reblogged a post of mine with a truly galaxy brain take about how Sk8 “is a show made for queer fans” and generally how sports anime often depicts love and relationships in a way that’s more accessible and relatable to ace/arospec people than other mainstream media does.

Just, *chef’s kiss* fucking brilliant. I urge you to read their post here (note I’m referring to the reblog not the actual post).

And basically, it got me thinking about this concept of Sk8 as a Queer Show, and the kinds of stories and dynamics that tend to attract queer audiences in droves, regardless of whether its queerness is made explicit or hell, whether that queerness was intended.

And that’s what I’ve been pondering: What are the cues, markers, or coding, in Sk8 that set off the community’s collective gaydar?

I obviously can’t speak for the community. So here’s what aspects of the show intrigued me and what, for me, marks Sk8 as a Queer Show beyond the subtextual queer romances: a punk/alternative aesthetic, Found Family, Shadow as a drag persona, and The Hands.

1.) The Punk Aesthetic

All three of the above screenshots are taken from Ep 1, and every single one of them depicts background characters. They’re nameless and ultimately unimportant characters, yet each of them designed so distinctly and so unique from one another, one could mistake each of them for the main character(s) of another story.

Of what little I know about Punk subculture, I do know this: that the ethos of Punk is heavily built around a celebration of individuality and non-conformity. Sk8 seems to have incorporated this ethos into the very fabric its worldbuilding, and the aesthetics and culture upon which it takes inspiration appeals specifically to a queer audience.

I don’t really need to explain why Punk has such deep ties with the queer community. For decades, queer people have found community and acceptance within punk spaces, and punk ideology is something that I think is just ingrained in the queer consciousness as both lived experience and a survival tactic.

Therefore, a show that adopts punk aesthetics is, by association, already paying homage to Queer culture, intentional or not.

Queer fans notice this- like recognizes like.

2.) Found Family

This also needs little explanation.

Too often, queer individuals cannot rely on their “born into” families for support and acceptance. Too often, we are abused, neglected, and abandoned by those who we were taught would “always be there for us.”

And so, a universal experience for queer people has been redefining the meaning of Family, having to build our families from scratch, finding brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers in people with whom we have no blood relation, and forming communities tied together by shared lived experience rather than shared genetics.

And this idea of Found Family is also built into Sk8′s narrative.

Like, for example, the way that Reki promises MIYA that he and Langa will “never disappear from [his] sight,” filling the void that MIYA felt after his friends abandoned him.

And in the way that JOE becomes a paternal figure for Reki, teaching him ways to improve in skateboarding, and ensuring that Reki doesn’t self isolate when he’s feeling insecure.

And in the whole Ep 6 business with Hiromi acting as babysitter to the Gang.

Hell, even ADAM (derogatory) is associated with this trope. Abused as a child, he finds solace in an underground skateboarding community and culture he helped create- his own found family (or some powertrippy version of it anyway).

Again, queer fans see themselves depicted in the show, but this time in the way that the show gives importance to Found Family relationships between its characters.

3.) Shadow and Drag

This is one that’s more of an association that I personally made. But I was intrigued by the way that Hiromi adopts his SHADOW persona. He wears SHADOW like a mask, and adopts a personality seemingly so opposite to his day-to-day behavior.

Further, the theatricality and general “gender fuckery” of his SHADOW persona, to me, just seemed so similar to a the characteristics of a drag persona (I don’t know a whole lot about drag but enough that I’m drawing superficial similarities).

There’s also this aspect of a “double life” that he, and actually all the other adult characters of the show, have to adopt, which is a way of living that I’m sure a lot of queer viewers see themselves reflected in.

4.) The Hands

Ohhhh the Hands.

One of the things I noticed very early on is the way the show constantly draws our attention to Reki’s hands, which I thought was a little strange for an anime about skating. After all, skating doesn’t really involve the hands, or at least the show doesn’t really draw attention to hands within the context of skating.

I count 3 times so far between Eps 1-9 in which hands are the focus of the frame.

First, when Reki teaches Langa how to fist pump after Langa lands his first ollie, second, when Reki and Langa make their Promise, and finally, when Langa saves Reki from falling off his board.

And you know what they say, twice is a coincidence but thrice is a motif (no one else actually says this I think I’m the only one who says this lol).

I’m not really certain why hands seem to be such a shared fixation among queer people (at least among those I interact with). All I know is that gay people are just fucking obsessed with them.

I have a Theory as to why, and at this point I’d love for other people to chime in and “compare notes” if you will, but I think it basically has to do with repression. And in the same way that queer people have had to redefine the meaning of family, we’ve also had to redefine intimacy.

Being overtly physically affectionate with someone of the same sex, even if they’re your significant other, or often specifically BECAUSE they’re your significant other, can still be dangerous, even now despite the “progression” of society. Queer people know this, this vigilant surveillance of our environment and ourselves, always asking ourselves, “Am I safe enough to be myself?”

Already, Western culture is pretty touch-averse. That is, it’s considered taboo to touch someone unless they’re a family member or a romantic partner. And to touch a person of the same sex in any way that could be misconstrued as romantic (which is most things tbh) is a big no no.

There’s just A Lot to unpack there.

But basically I think that queer people, by necessity, have had to learn to romanticize mundane or unconventional ways of being physically intimate so that we can continue to be romantic with one another without “being caught” so to speak.

Kissing and hugging is too obvious. But a handshake that lingers for just a second too long is much more likely to go unnoticed, braiding someone’s hair can easily be explained away as just lending a helping hand, touching palms to “compare hand sizes” is just good fun.

But for queer people, these brief and seemingly insignificant touches hold greater meaning, because it’s all we are allowed, and all we allow ourselves, to exchange with others.

God, I’ve gone off and rambled again. What’s my point? Basically that the way the show draws attention to Reki’s hands, and specifically how they’re so often framed with Langa’s hands, is one of the major reasons why I clocked Sk8 as a Queer. It’s just something that resonated with me and my own experience of queerness, and I know that I’m not the only one who noticed either.

~

So in conclusion, uhhhh yeah Sk8 the Infinity is just a super gay show, and it’s not even because of the homo-romantic subtext (that at this point is really just Text).

Because what’s important to understand is that Queerness isn’t just about same-sex romance.

Queer Love isn’t just shared between wives/girlfriends, husbands/boyfriends, and all their in-betweens. Queer Love can be two best friends who come out together, queer siblings who rely and support one another, a gay teacher who helps guide one of their questioning students, a queer community pitching in to help a struggling member.

And that all ties with another important thing to consider, that what we refer to as the “queer experience” or “queer culture” isn’t universal. In fact, it wrongly lumps together the unique experiences and struggles of queer BIPOC all under one umbrella that’s primary White and middle class.

So I think what drives a lot of my frustration about labeling a show like Sk8 as Queerbait is this very issue of considering queerness and queer representation within such narrow standards, and mandating that a show must pass a certain threshold of explicit queerness to be considered good representation.

I get that someone might only feel represented by an indisputable canonization of a same-sex couple. That’s fine. But labeling Sk8 as Queerbait for that reason alone ignores the vast array of other queer experiences.

The aspects of Sk8 that resonate most deeply with my own experiences of queerness is in the way that Reki and Langa share intimacy through skating (intricate rituals heyo). For me, them officially getting together ultimately doesn’t matter- I’ll consider Sk8 a Queer show regardless.

Similarly, @mulberrymelancholy​ finds ace/arospec representation in that very absence of an on-screen kiss. A bisexual man might find representation in Reki, not because he enters a canon relationship, but in the depiction of Reki’s coming of age, growing up and navigating adolescent relationships. A non-binary person might feel represented through CHERRY’s androgyny.

That’s the thing, I don’t know how this show will resonate with other members of the queer community, and it’d be wrong to make a judgement on Sk8′s queer representation based on my experiences alone.

That being said, Straight people definitely don’t get to judge Sk8 as Queerbait. Y’all can watch and enjoy the show, we WANT you to enjoy these kinds of shows, and we want you to share these shows and contribute to the normalization and celebration of these kinds of narratives.

But understand that you don’t have a right to tell us whether or not Sk8 has good or bad queer representation.

And even members of the queer community are on thin ice. Your experience of queerness is not universal. Listen to the other members of your community, and respect that what you might find lacking in this show may be the exact representation that someone else needs.

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Castlevania Season 4: I’m not mad, just disappointed

Season 4 is poorly written fanfiction, which is...better than a lot of things could be, I guess.

Spoilers below the cut.

Content warning: trauma, sexual assault, psychological manipulation

The Gods Have Had a Change of Heart

Or, “Season 3 Blocked and Ignored”

Season 3 felt like the fabric of the universe had been twisted just to inflict additional pain. Season 4 overcompensates in the other direction; trauma evaporates, and good things happen for no other reason than to make our favorite characters happy.

The Season 3 finale left two characters in particular totally devastated: Alucard and Hector. Alucard is violently betrayed in a horrifying sexual assault by the first two people he’s spoken to since Trevor and Sypha left. He ends up killing them in self-defense and puts their bodies on stakes outside the castle, alluding to his father’s habit of doing so and potentially hinting at a turn toward evil. Hector is seduced by Lenore and then enslaved using a magic ring.

Yet at the start of Season 4, it’s as if these things never happened. Alucard is troubled, but not totally devastated, certainly not evil. Taka and Sumi are referenced in exactly one conversation with new character, Greta, in which she says the rather tactless throwaway line, “I had a boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time once. But they never tried to kill me.” Hector is nominally imprisoned, but immediately seems highly agentic, perhaps even more so than before. He studies, lays traps, and makes secret plans with other people. Furthermore, his relationship with Lenore is completely transformed. From falling to his knees in abject horror and despair at being enslaved, he suddenly switches to light banter, in what is apparently a basically okay, mutually enjoyed romantic/sexual relationship. Manipulative, selfish Lenore is now a sympathetic character struggling to reconcile her own role and feelings with Carmilla’s plans.

The events of season 3 happened, remaining canon in the most basic, literal sense. But the emotional weight attached to them has disappeared into thin air.

Not gonna lie, I did breathe a sigh of relief when I saw that Alucard and Hector were okay. I’m soft-hearted! I don’t like seeing characters I like suffer! I mean, conflict is important, and I can deal with (or even enjoy in a certain sense) seeing characters suffer if it makes sense and serves a narrative purpose. But as far as I can tell, the season 3 finale was nothing more than lurid, meaningless violence. I probably wouldn’t have continued watching the show if it devolved into nothing more than finding novel ways to torture the characters.

Still, it doesn’t feel quite right to pretend like nothing happened either. Or, really, not that nothing happened, but that those things didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, didn’t leave lasting scars. That’s...almost kind of worse.

But, I thought, I can sort of forgive this sudden shift in the stars, given that there may have been some sort of change in creative direction relating to Ellis’ decreased involvement with the show.* Plus, season 3 was insanity. It’s not like it was full of great writing choices, so if we quietly ignore some of them, maybe that’s for the best.

*I only later learned that Netflix actually chose to continue with Ellis’ season 4 scripts. It is not lost on me that maybe Ellis doesn’t know how to write about the lasting effects of traumatic sexual experiences or how power dynamics can make a sexual relationship problematic because he doesn’t understand that those things exist.

Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening

Pretty Pictures, Not Much Else

Unfortunately, the disconnect between seasons 3 and 4 isn’t the only problem with this season. Although I felt that season 4 was a bit less boring than season 3 (I particularly enjoyed some of the earlier episodes of season 4), it suffers from the same basic problems of Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening.

None of the characters experience any significant development, let alone any sort of coherent arc. Sypha has changed slightly, becoming more rough and jaded. I did really like the scene where she talks about becoming the kind of person who says “shit.” I think it really speaks to how entering into a relationship with someone means taking on aspects of their lifestyle, and how that can change you in ways that you can’t predict and therefore can’t exactly “agree” to. Sometimes those changes are good, sometimes they’re bad, sometimes they’re neutral, and sometimes it’s difficult to know. But you have to accept that you’re sacrificing some aspects of the person that you could have been if you chose to live completely independently, or with someone else.

Trevor really hasn’t changed since season 1 when he first decided to take up the mantle of hero again. Likewise with Alucard. Hector and Lenore change, as previously noted, but that change is sudden, jarring, and occurs completely off screen in between seasons 3 and 4. Carmilla dies as exactly as she lived: bitter, angry, and violent. Saint Germain just kind of...gets fucked over in a nonsensical subplot, which is its own whole can of worms.

We also get several new characters in season 4, none of whom have developed personalities or motives, nor do they develop any of those things over the course of the season: Greta, Zamfir, Varney, Ratko.

And nobody. Does. Anything.

Trevor and Sypha spend the entire season trying to explore and aid Targoviste, which comes to absolutely nothing. They’re unable to help anyone, Zamfir dies, and they end up just jumping through a magic portal to the actually relevant subplot in the finale. Carmilla literally does little more than draw maps until she’s ultimately killed. Hector plays a minor role in Saint Germain’s extraction of Dracula from Hell; otherwise, he and Lenore basically just exchange banter. Saint Germain does sort of do some stuff? But it’s often unclear how he’s made his connections, who the people who are helping him are, or what exactly he’s doing in terms of his magic beyond “whatever it takes to get back to his lover.”

Sure, there are fight scenes, but they feel meaningless. There’s no context, no stakes. There’s also a LOT of dialogue, and it is. Not well written. Exposition is embarrassingly clumsy at times, and the philosophical musings are cliche at best, muddled and confusing at worst. There’s just not all that much going on.

That is, except for Isaac. But more on him in a second.

What Kind of Show Is This?

When the plot line adapted from Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse ended with season 2, the show struggled to establish a new identity.

Despite nominally dealing with themes like whether humanity is inherently good or evil and how to cope with wrongdoing and loss, seasons 1 and 2 ultimately boiled down to a pretty generic action-adventure/fantasy plot with found family/power of friendship elements. Main characters Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard don’t really wrestle with big philosophical questions or suffer any major defeats. They know that they have to take down Dracula for the good of the world, and they work together as a team to do it, with a little character development relating to their various backstories sprinkled in.

Then season 3 happened, and things got weird. The trio is broken up for what feels like a pretty trivial reason—Alucard has to protect the castle and Belmont hold, I guess? And the result of that decision is that the dynamics for the three main characters are completely unbalanced.

Ellis openly admits that he basically went feral with the writing of season 3, and it shows. The messaging in seasons 1 and 2 was cliche, but consistent. The message of season 3? Anyone’s guess.

Season 4 reversed the darkening of tone from season 3, but shares its inability to pick a story and tell it.

Isaac is the Main Character

Always has been.

While I can’t say that his character or arc are perfect, I can say that he actually has a character and an arc. He starts off motivated by his fierce loyalty to Dracula, then has to struggle to find his purpose once Dracula is gone. He goes from subservient to agentic. He goes from fully endorsing the genocide of humanity and not caring about his own life to seeing some worth in humans and genuinely wanting to live. He has an interesting moment that deepens our understanding of what night creatures are, while also serving as an exploration of the meaning of one’s fundamental nature. Most importantly, these changes happen naturally over the course of the show. They never feel forced or out of the blue, and while I feel like even more could have been done with Isaac’s character, there’s a lot to appreciate about what is there.

If there’s any thread holding Castlevania as a single, coherent work together, it’s Isaac. Not only is his character the best executed and the most coherent over the course of the show, his character explores themes that are larger than himself and relevant to the show as a whole, like those mentioned earlier: misanthropy versus a belief in the value of humanity; the ability to go beyond one’s “nature” or initial circumstances; and how to respond to being wronged or losing something important to you. Exploring the individual lives of characters is great, but really good writing usually requires going beyond that to reflect on broader questions and ideas. Isaac is the only character here that serves that larger purpose.

Sorry...I Just Don’t Buy It

The season 4 finale is crazy, although in a different way from season 3′s.

Varney being Death makes no sense on several different levels. I’m not going to spend a lot of time picking that particular plot twist apart, but I will talk about why I think it doesn’t work at the largest scale, and how I think season 4 might have been done better.

Last minute twists with zero foreshadowing are rarely a good idea, and this is no exception. Why introduce this “Death” entity at the last minute to be the most important battle of the season? The finale of the entire show, even? Besides the lack of logic or emotional buildup, this robs the show of the opportunity to make use of the antagonists that it already has. Since Dracula died, Carmilla has been the obvious choice for a new big bad. Why hasn’t she done more?

Season 4 feels crowded with characters and plot lines that amount to nothing. Why not bring some of these characters together? If Carmilla is the main antagonist, how come she never meets any of the protagonists (except Hector, who is a pretty minor player in this ecosystem) or even affects them in any way?

Season 4 feels like maybe it was trying to make something out of season 3 and the model that it presented, but it ultimately fails to do so. The writers throw the trio back together at the end anyway, so why not have them rejoin sooner and work together? Maybe Sypha and Trevor’s past experience with Saint Germain could have helped Alucard and Greta piece together what he was plotting sooner, rather than all four of them being completely blindsided by it in the penultimate episode. (Sypha and Trevor know that someone is trying to resurrect Dracula, but they fail to find out any actual detail about the plans, despite their supposed attempts.) Have characters actually do stuff, figure stuff out, advance the plot!

Likewise, maybe Carmilla becomes aware of Saint Germain’s scheming, sees it as a threat, and tries to take him down. Maybe she tries to get involved and somehow use alchemy or the Infinite Corridor to her own benefit. What does it look like when power-hungry Carmilla, who wants to rule the world, finds out there’s an entire multiverse out there? That could easily set her up to be a foil to Saint Germain, causing him to realize that what he’s doing is wrong.

What actually ended up happening in the show feels disjointed and often empty. In particular, most of the events that happen in the last two episodes just don’t really work for me. I didn’t like Trevor suddenly sacrificing himself to this random, new, super powerful enemy, or how the gems and dagger that he found just happened to be the perfect weapon to kill this new enemy, or how he inexplicably returns from the dead.

This kind of thing is what I mean when I say that this season feels like fanfiction. Trevor comes back from the dead for no discernible reason other than that it would really suck if he died. Greta as a character seems to literally only exist to be Alucard’s girlfriend and support him so that he doesn’t have to continue to be alone and potentially turn evil. Alucard’s trauma from Taka and Sumi and Hector’s trauma from Lenore are both conveniently erased. Even Dracula and Lisa are resurrected somehow and get their happy ending. And it’s like, I guess I prefer deus ex machina to the opposite (Does that have a name? When everything is going well but then something terrible happens for no reason other than to make things worse for the characters?), but they’re both bad writing.

God. This isn’t even getting into what happened with the Council of Sisters. And I don’t even really like those characters, but that doesn’t mean I want to see their characters handled poorly.

I’m not sorry that I watched until the end, but I can’t in good faith recommend the show as a whole. If you’ve yet to watch Castlevania, just stop at the end of season 2. While there are some shining moments in seasons 3 and 4 (4 more than 3), it’s just really not worth it.

[thebakingqueen5]

KW 2021: Tease

Day 6 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Tease!

I might have stuffed up the use of this word and its definition in context but shhhh it’s fine and this is cute.

Links: FF.net | AO3

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 6. Tease (verb): gently pull or comb (tangled wool, hair, etc.) into separate strands. Aka the take on the “tease” prompt that no one (not even me) expected.

Word Count: 1.8K

It had been a tiring, tension-filled day.

The war ended five, maybe six months prior, and the four nations were still partaking in the grueling process of learning to work together after a century’s worth of fighting. Considering that a group of teenagers were the reason there was any hope of amity in the first place, it came as little surprise that most of the pressure to arrange and facilitate treaties and peace talks fell on the Gaang, much to their chagrin.

And so here they were, utterly exhausted after a long day of trying to convince the Earth King and Zuko that violence was, in fact, bad, and stressed out of their minds, aching for a distraction.

It certainly didn’t help that tonight, of all nights, Katara’s long, dark hair was refusing to cooperate despite her having just stepped out of the shower a mere 10 minutes past. No matter how many times she ran the whalebone comb through her thick locks, nothing seemed to help, and her patience was quickly dissipating.

“Spirits, Zuko and Kuei are going to drive me absolutely crazy, sweetie.” Aang ranted as he entered her room, closing the door shut behind him as he made wild gestures with his hands.

“They’re both so… stubborn! And self-righteous and it’s getting us nowhere!” he huffed in frustration. “I wish they could just- oh.”

The airbender immediately faltered, finally noticing the appearance, or rather the clothing, of his girlfriend seated in front of a square mirror, nightgown riding quite high up her thigh.

“Sorry,” he blushed, eyes darting around the room to look anywhere, absolutely anywhere except at her to keep what little modesty they had left between them. “I didn’t know you had already showered and changed- I really should have knocked.”

Katara rolled her eyes, a slight pink tint rising to her cheeks as she returned to the task at hand: attempting to tame the lion’s mane she called her hair resting atop her head at that very moment.

“It’s fine, Aang,” she laughed, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No need to be embarrassed, really. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”

The waterbender snuck a quick glance at her boyfriend, and, quite frankly, she wasn’t sure he could get any redder if he tried. A tomato would have been jealous of the vibrant hue of Aang’s face, and he couldn’t stop staring at the floor, gaze entirely focused on the wooden boards beneath him.

The boy remained silent, and guilt began to fill Katara’s stomach.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she frowned, standing up. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can go change if you want-”

Aang instantly looked up from the ground, quick to clarify his thoughts. “No, sweetie. It’s not that! It’s just- you look absolutely beautiful, and I don’t want me subconsciously staring at you to make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy around me.”

Katara’s eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise, and she patted a spot on the edge of the mattress, beckoning for him to come sit near her before turning back and glaring at herself in the mirror.

“Believe me, sweetie, there is very little you can do to make me feel uncomfortable around you. Honestly, it’s a bit of a compliment knowing that’s how I seem in your eyes,” she said shyly.

The airbender grinned and walked up to her. Feeling a little emboldened, he tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, chin barely reaching an inch above her shoulder.

“You could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me,” he murmured as his stormy eyes met her cerulean ones through the mirror.

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow and gestured to the mess on her head. “Even with this bird’s nest?”

“Always,” Aang smiled earnestly. “Speaking of, though, do you need some help with that?”

“I appreciate the offer, Aang, but I’ve been trying for the last half hour now and you aren’t exactly the most experienced with hair.”

“Well, maybe a new perspective is just what you need.”

He gently pulled her back towards the mattress a few feet away from the dresser with the mirror and sat her down in front of him. Rolling her eyes, the waterbender handed him her comb, but he simply cast it aside, instead using his nimble fingers to work through the knots and tangles in her hair.

Katara was right- he did have minimal experience with hair, not having much of his own, but he often played with hers when they spent time together. He knew what relaxed her and what didn't, which gave him the perfect means to seize this opportunity and prove her wrong, while also, of course, helping the two unwind and spend some time with one another.

The waterbender had already been quite frustrated when she had started working through her hair, and her movements had reflected that. She was stressed and antsy, and she combed harshly and roughly, only compressing the knotted hair to the end of the strand and making it harder to get out. Between that and the day she had, she had been close to tears and Aang’s gentle touch was just what she needed.

Much of Aang’s stress had been alleviated when he had entered the room earlier in simply being able to see and embrace his girlfriend. Because of this, he was able to take his time and the change of pace was nice for the both of them.

He worked slowly and methodically, fingers lightly massaging the top of her scalp before moving down to dampen and separate her wavy tresses into individual strips of hair with the help of some waterbending. He took care to not tug too hard on any one strand, having heard many a horror story from Katara in the past with her unable to tolerate anyone else handling her sensitive locks. The airbender was determined to make it a pleasant experience for the both of them, and it was.

In fact, Katara had been mildly shocked by the sheer love and effort she felt Aang direct into detangling her hair. It was sweet seeing him put so much energy towards trying something new just to help her, and the tension in her mind that had been knotted up began to unravel as well.

“Halfway,” Aang whispered, breaking her out of her thoughts. His gaze was still intense and focused on her unruly strands as she sighed softly and leaned ever so slightly back into him.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” she murmured back. She closed her eyes as Aang’s rhythmic yet feathery touches to her scalp soothed her and then gave herself a quick look in the mirror through her peripheral vision- her hair was already looking a lot better and far more tame than it had been 15 minutes ago.

“That’s alright, just have a little more faith in your amazing boyfriend next time, yeah?” he winked with a smile, hands moving the hair he had untangled to the front as he directed his concentration to the last section.

This section was by far going to be the hardest-  most of the strands were embedded into a few large and messy knots creating quite a complex network. Nevertheless, Aang was up to the challenge. He began humming an old Air Nomad folk tune, one of the many they’d perform at Yangchen’s Festival, causing Katara to hum along with him as he spread apart the last few unruly waves of hair.

After finishing, he steadily ran his fingers through her hair like a comb, taking extra care to caress the nape of her neck and back of her head as she sighed happily, and gave it one last sweep with the whale-bone comb.

“All done,” he said, tucking a lock behind her ear when she turned around to face him.

The waterbender beamed before lightly pushing him down on the bed as they both sank into the mattress.

“I take it you enjoyed it?” Aang laughed, looking up at her.

“Very much so,” Katara responded. She then carefully angled herself so that she was lying pressed up against Aang’s side, head resting in the crook of his neck.

“It was pretty relaxing for me too,” Aang blushed. “You know I love playing with your hair and this just kinda took it to another level. I’d be happy to do it for you in the future if you ever find yourself fighting with that comb again, that is.”

“I’d like that, Aang. A lot,” she smiled shyly. “It was great to just… unwind. Have you there with me and just relax. I was basically about to cry when you came in and you just melted all my worries away with those magical hands of yours.”

The airbender chuckled, snaking his arm around her shoulders and leaning his head against hers. “Glad to hear it, sweetie. It’s getting late though, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Time for some rest?”

Katara wordlessly nodded, sighing and closing her eyes as Aang did the same and blew out the candles lighting up the room.

“Thank you for this, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tara. Good night.”

The two were taken away into the dream realm, but an unspoken custom was crafted that night. It became a ritual, a way for both of them to calm down and escape the high stress levels of their everyday lives.

When Katara found her dad kissing Malina and it felt like her whole world was crumbling down around her, Aang had snuck into her room that night and combed and plaited her hair until they drifted off into each other’s arms.

When Aang had confided in the waterbender about feeling anxious and insecure about becoming a new father after she had informed him of her pregnancy, Katara had shown up to the stables with a comb and some apples for Appa in tow. The two ended up assuaging each other’s concerns while leaning back against the fluffy bison, much to their attention-seeking flying lemur’s annoyance.

Whether they were stressing over not being able to find an old book from the Southern Water Tribe after moving to Air Temple Island or had just come home after a near-death experience with the most dangerous bloodbender in the world, one of the two would always sit the stressed one down and grab a comb.

It never became a chore or something they dreaded; it was almost a secret love language for the couple. It was a way of reminding each other that no matter what was going on in their lives, they would always find time for each other and help one another. It pulled Aang and Katara out of some of their lowest, darkest moments, and it only accentuated their highs.

Such a simple, pure act born out of nothing but love and a desire to help- it should’ve been insignificant, a one-time thing, but it became so much more. To Katara and Aang, it meant the world.

[dutchdread]

What is Love? Baby don't hurt me.

This article sets out to define different types of love in a meaningful way, and argue why the specifics surrounding Aerith and Cloud makes it so that the commonly accepted romantic version of the emotion can't apply. __________________________________________________

Whenever you talk to anyone, it's important to be on the same page, and one of the most important parts about that is making sure that you're speaking the same language. I am sure we've all had moments where we were arguing with someone only to discover that you both believed the exact same thing, but that you simply used a different word to describe said thing.

"That's what I've been saying" "No, that's what I've been saying!" "Well what are we even arguing about then?!"

When that happens, you're not arguing about the topic itself, you're arguing about semantics, about language.

An argument about whether or not what Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith felt for each other would fall under "love" is a debate about language, not FFVII, and I am not here to have a conversation about language. Unfortunately, before I can actually have a conversation about FFVII, a conversation about language is apparently needed.

Love is an incredibly broad term, used to express what we feel about our family, our pets, our friends, our "lovers", and even our favorite songs, weather, and food. So why the hell do we ask "who did Cloud love" as if love is some singular binary system?

I can never prove that what a character feels isn't love, I can only assert that I personally wouldn't use the word "love" to describe said feeling, and explain why I wouldn't. When we ask "does Cloud love Tifa or Aerith", we are presupposing a concept of "love", and asking who it applies to.

"I pity you, you just don't get it at all, there is nothing I don't cherish"

But it applies to both, and it applies to Barret, and Marlene, and Denzel, and everyone. Because love is far too broad a term to start with, it's a catch-all. Instead of starting with a preconception of what love is, and seeing who has it, we should describe what people actually have, and see what their individuals shapes of love look like.

Even so, I will do my best to describe what I mean by romantic love, as opposed to a crush, or infatuation, or attraction, so that when I say "Cloud and Aerith don't (and can't) romantically love each other", that it's clear what that assertion means to me.

I'm going to tell you a story, a story that, admittedly, doesn't make me look good, but which will hopefully provide context for what I think love is and why.

When I was younger I wasn't the most popular kid, back then I assumed I was unattractive, as an adult I realize its because I was socially awkward as fuck (I was actually cute as heck if I do say so myself). However, by the time I got to highschool I had made a best friend and had managed to figure out and fake social conventions enough that I could at the very least solve my issues through humor instead of violence. The change from typical village kids to a wider pool of potential friends also enabled me to finally find people who were more like me. Even so, the whole social outcast part was still ingrained deeply enough in me that I was mostly putting on an act in front of people, saying whatever I needed to say in order to get a certain reaction, in order to be liked, rather than just being myself. I had had crushes before, when you're alone it's easy to really fall for someone, and hell, I was always a sucker when it came to love stories, but my childhood had basically left me too nervous that I'd say the wrong thing to ever actually say the right thing when I really liked a girl. However, generally being the life of the party left me with a string of girlfriends I didn't care too much about. Even so, I eventually met a girl that I was instantly smitten with, the most attractive girl I knew and somehow I managed to start dating her, and hell, I even thought I loved her. I dated said girl for several years, but without going into spoilers I'll just say that I left that relationship pretty jaded and and disillusioned with the concept of love. I felt like I had done everything I could and love in general was bullshit and was honestly pretty done with women in general. Ironically my new pessimistic attitude made me much more successful with women than I had ever been before, by that time I was known as someone who was fun to party with, and unlike the majority of people my age I was in incredible shape and still had all my hair. However, while I enjoyed my newfound popularity there was a part of me that really resented it because I realized that what women seemed to react positively to wasn't what I imagined love to be like and I hated that. I hated that when I used to be kind and filled with notions of "true love" no one was interested, but now that I was disinterested and clearly manipulative women seemed to throw themselves at me. During that time I basically stopped looking for a meaningful relationship and just decided to have fun until my life would, inevitably, fall apart.

Eventually though I got a girlfriend who I didn't deserve and was much too good for me. However, when I did I was no longer interested in building a relationship and I was pretty certain that it would eventually fall apart anyway like everything else. As a result I mainly cared about what I could get from her, I didn't act like a proper partner and I when I thought about "fixing the relationship" I was thinking mostly about what she could do to be a better girlfriend, honestly, part of me actually resented her for not being my ex. When talking about our issues the general terms were "I'll do this, but only if you fix that". Without going into details, the general gist is that we had a horrible start to our relationship and that affected everything that came after it.

Eventually though this girl who I once mainly saw as just another temporary part of my life became something more to me, she became a more complete person. I mellowed out, and started appreciating her more, I decided to get us to work on the relationship but the damage was basically already done. She'd given up on me ever wanting to settle down and had started distancing herself from me emotionally and eventually I became sick of fighting for the relationship by myself and we broke up. Afterwards, free of pressure, I sat back and l evaluated what I wanted in life, I thought about myself, and her, REALLY thought about her. The good parts, and the bad. And I realized that all the things I was annoyed about were honestly absurd. I decided I was going to fight for her, not just "try to fix the relationship" by figuring out what worked and what didn't, but I just decided I was going to properly appreciate her, be the best boyfriend I could be, and not ask for anything in return. And let me tell you, that change in mindset changed EVERYTHING for me. Within months I became absolutely smitten with her, when I first started the relationship I was honestly annoyed if we met up and didn't have sex, now just sitting on the couch under a blanket with her became the highlight of days, even the things I once saw as negatives became a precious part of the puzzle that made her her. My biggest regret in life is still that I couldn't be the person she made me back when I first met her. (and concerning looks, she is honestly so much more gorgeous than the ex it's not even funny, how did I not see that?). The point of all this is that love isn't automatic, it's not something that happens without your consent, it's the result of actions, of decisions. When you choose to take the time to look at your significant other, and soak up and appreciate who they are and what they do, when you put in the effort, that's when love grows. I've gone from being sick and tired of someone I had been with for years, to being absolutely infatuated with them, simply by making a decision. I could not have made that decision had I not been myself, that decision would have been false. Looking back, all those earlier girls I've been infatuated with, that wasn't love, I didn't even know who they were, I barely knew who I was. No matter how much passion I felt in the moment, no matter how much fun I had in the times we spent together, now I don't even remember their names.

Love isn't your heart beating faster, it's not that instinctive nervousness that comes with talking to a cute girl you just met. It's a complete and deep appreciation of a person, un understanding of who you are, who they are, and what that means to you. Love is what I feel for my brother, who is as much a part of me as my own arm, without whom I would not be me. Someone who isn't just another person in your life, but is a part of what you consider to be your life, without them your life could not be the same, because they're an absolutely crucial part of it. That doesn't happen in a week, because you can't really learn who someone is in a week, even if you could see all of it, you couldn't internalize it. You can always imagine living without them, because you were, just last week. There are people who meet their soulmates sure, and say they knew within a week, but had they never seen that soulmate again, they would not still be pretending they were "the one" years later, and if they were, their friends wouldn't be saying "that's love", they'd be saying "that's an unhealthy obsession". Cloud and Aerith barely knew each other, both when it comes to time, as well as to how much they actually knew about each other. Cloud had no idea of who he was or what was important to him in life, he was unable to be honest with others or even himself, so how would he ever be able to meaningfully make an informed decision to make the kind of emotional commitment that's the cornerstone of love? He didn't know himself, nor did he know Aerith, to whose feelings he was canonically oblivious and whose entire life was a mystery to Cloud. How can we say that Soldier Cloud is capable of knowing who he loves when he's not even aware of the the gigantic Tifa shaped area of his identity. Can Soldier Cloud determine what he values and why without the knowledge of what he's gone through in his life? Sure, but can Soldier Cloud make that determination for the real one? No. Soldier Cloud, and his emotions, have no relation to that of the real Cloud. The real Cloud must determine what people mean to him all by himself. And when it comes to real Cloud, it is pretty obvious who is the biggest part of his life, the person who defined it from the time he fell for her as kid, right through when he became a soldier to impress her, and up to and past the moment he started raising children with her. For Cloud it's pretty obvious who he has the deep personal understanding with, the girl who filled his sub-conscious, and was literally in his head with him, the girl who is stated to understand him best, and who has a shared story with him, having experienced both the good, and the bad, alongside him. Who was there with him when he was a child, who was there with him in Nibleheim, who found him when he lost his identity and gave him a new one, who was with him when Aerith died, who was with him when he broke, who was with him when he was catatonic, who was with him and helped him find himself again, who was with him during the last night underneath the highwind, who was with him at the end in the north cave, who he started living with afterwards, who waited patiently while he went to find himself, and welcomed him back with a smile. I am sure Cloud liked Aerith....but he LOVES Tifa.

[tuanhood]

35,000 ft

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff?, exes to lovers

warnings: 18+, language, dirty talk, cheating, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, public sex (mile high club ALERT)

word count: 9,800+

summary: two years have passed since you last saw your ex-boyfriend. when you’ve thought about running into him again, it certainly wasn’t at 35,000 ft and it certainly wasn’t like this. 

a/n: wow my longest one shot yet... UMMM it’s a little messy and all over the place but don’t hesitate to let me know what you think or if anyone wants to cry over the photos of Mark at home playing in the pool sMH. also i do not CONDONE cheating fyI 

part 2: 125 ft

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“Yes, yes, yes I’ll call you when I land…” You mumbled through the phone, half paying attention and half trying to decide which sandwich would best suit your needs. 

“Okay but seriously… call me. I hate it when you’re over there enough so not getting a call freaks me out even more.” 

You wanted to roll your eyes and gag, but you stopped yourself knowing that it wasn’t what a typical girlfriend would do when on the phone with her boyfriend. You two were supposed to still be in the honeymoon phase, not the “he gives me the ick” phase already. 

Then again, you had never even been in the “he gives me the ick” phase before. Yay for new experiences you guessed. 

“Brian, it’s so fine. It’s one of the safest cities in the world, I’ve been so many times I don’t even need a map to tell me where I’m going.” 

“I hope you still do though… Use a map. I don’t want you to get lost and I know that’s easy to do in those modern, technologically advanced smart cities.”

Being with Brian sometimes felt like there wasn’t even a fourth wave of feminism. 

You weren’t sure why you were sticking around. Part of you felt pressured because you hadn’t had any actual relationships in… well awhile and your mom was constantly asking when you were finally going to get a ring on your finger and give her a grandchild. 

Judging by all the outside influences that were currently controlling your life, it felt like maybe there isn’t a fourth wave of feminism. You were setting everyone back just based on your own sad life. Maybe it was best to just dump Brian and go back to your hook up days, the year and a half before him that was just endless amounts of sex with random guys trying to fix a piece of you that would never be put back together. 

“Y/n? Are you still there?” 

“Yup, still here Brian.” 

Even after being together for almost 6 months you couldn’t bring it in you to call him something besides his name. It was always Brian this, Brian that. Calling him a pet name made you cringe. 

Yeah… Maybe it was definitely time to break up with him. 

“Listen… I should go. I want to get something to eat before they start boarding since it’s a long one and all.” 

But you’ll just do it later. 

“Okay… sounds good. Get a small sandwich or something so you’ll feel full enough before they actually feed you on the plane.” 

Suddenly you didn’t want a sandwich. 

“Got it… Bye.” 

“Love you, bye.” 

You hear a noise letting you know the call has been disconnected and drop your hand, gripping the device at your side. 

That was another thing. Brian had told you only 3 months of dating that he loved you – to which you had responded with “oh wow… that’s- that’s… so nice of you.” Being the nice guy, he was completely fine with you not saying it back, because he felt so sure that one day you would. He understood that you had issues with a past relationship that you weren’t quite ready to let go of yet, therefore your heart wasn’t completely available. He felt with time you would give in and love him too. 

As of now you weren’t too sure… Especially if you did end up breaking up with him. At a later date and time of course. Maybe when you came back? 

Your mind went blank as you looked at the shelves of the poorly made airport food in front of you. The sandwiches that had once looked good and enticing suddenly lost their luster and the last thing you wanted to do was waste money on one. Sighing, you glanced back down at the phone in your hand. The object felt more like a heavy weight and a burden rather than just a phone. It wasn’t due to work or family; it was just all because of Brian. 

You’re startled when your phone comes to life once again under your gaze, buzzing softly. 

Brian. Remember don’t forget to text me when you board! 

It was like he had a sixth sense for whenever you were thinking of him. And to be honest it wasn’t that often. 

A couple of weeks ago you were out to lunch with a few friends from college and when updating those who you hadn’t seen in a while on the goings-on of your life, you had at first redacted the fact that you had a boyfriend completely. 

“Anyone romantic in your life?” Your friend Alice had asked you. 

Without thinking you had begun telling her how he was in game design and was from LA just like you, but soon cut yourself off before you could talk about how cute his dog was. That’s when you realized you weren’t talking about Brian. Brian was in fucking accounting, not game design and was 100% allergic to any kind of animal. When your friend asked about your love life, you had him in mind and not Brian even though so much time had gone by.

You were starting to believe that you weren’t ready for a relationship at all.

Sighing, you figured that maybe chips would be a better and less smelly option for the plane ride. Knowing yourself you would probably dig into them within the first thirty minutes of the thirteen-hour trip. 

You whip around to find wherever your newly desired snack choice could be when you catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of your eye. The goosebumps that make their way to the surface of your skin and the hair on the back of your neck standing up so eagerly causes your entire body to freeze with fear. There was only one person who made you feel this way, one person who made your blood run cold. The person you had just indirectly been thinking of.

No, no it couldn’t be. 

You’re afraid to turn around, because more than anything you don’t want to be right. If you felt stressed thinking about Brian, you were going to have a panic attack from seeing him. Pivoting yourself to the left, you bite your lip anxiously unsure of how you’re supposed to react if you are right. Taking in the sight behind you, you’re met with a father and daughter selecting candy from the shelves of the store. The individual causing your anxiety nowhere in sight. Your entire body relaxes. 

The last thing you wanted was a fiasco in the international terminal at LAX. It certainly wouldn’t do you, your family and your company any good to make headlines. It especially wouldn’t have made Brian happy; he probably would have called you a hundred times in worry. 

“I can’t fucking believe it.” 

And just like that you’re snapped out of your daze, your false security vanished, goosebumps emerging once again. This time there were no questions. That voice. It was him. 

Turning back around you find yourself under the gaze of your ex-boyfriend. Your ex-boyfriend who you haven’t seen in over two years. 

You wish you could say that time hadn’t been good to Mark, but that would be a bold-faced lie. He had somehow become even more attractive in the last two years and the only real thing that seemed different about him was his hair color. The last time you had seen him he had been blonde, but now he had opted for a dark brown color. As much as you hated thinking it, it definitely suited him.

The last two years felt like a long blur of trying to forget him and everything or everyone associated with him. Those were of course difficult things to do, many of the people in your shared three-year life with Mark becoming some of your closest allies and the fact that Mark wasn’t an easy person to erase. Since the two of you met – even when you were just friends – you had a magnetic like pull to one another that couldn’t just be forgotten and dismissed. You were even feeling it right now after everything. 

He’s wearing a tight smile, almost as if he too can’t believe you’re standing here in front of him. It was as though you were the one inconveniencing him, when he had been the one to even say something to you. If you had seen him first, you would have turned around and ran the other way pretending like it never happened. For some reason he was willing to acknowledge you. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” his tight smile soon fades away and his voice is smooth as ice, a nonchalance to it that makes you question whether he even cares about this run in.

“Me either. Good to see you… Now if you’ll excuse me…” You replied pushing past him to continue your previous task of looking for chips. Much to your dislike, he follows you as you embark on one of the aisles, your eyes scanning the items placed out oh so carefully. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been? What I’ve been up to?” 

The last you had heard of Mark was that he had moved to Beijing after being given a position at a video game development company. At first you had been surprised at Mark taking a job overseas, he had always expressed to you how even over his own dead body he would never leave LA, but ultimately him in China relieved you. No longer did you have to avoid your favorite spots in the city for boba or the park bench where you got most of you best thinking done. You didn’t even have to be worried about getting invited to a party or dinner with a friend, wondering if Mark was going to show up. With Mark gone you could freely have your life back and not walk around with the fear of running into him. But you guessed that it could only have lasted so long before fate – as cruel as she was – brought you two together again. 

“No that’s okay. I’m good,” you go down another aisle, he still follows suit.

Where were those damn chips? 

“If you’re looking for the chips, they’re over there,” he said pointing behind you to the back wall in a location that you should have noticed sooner, “and if you want your favorite brand of salt & vinegar chips, they’re on the bottom shelf.”

Your stomach churned, he thought after all this time he would be able to still just know you like the back of his hand? What snack you’re looking for? What chips you like? No way. 

Wordlessly you march to the back and stare at the shelves in front of you. You felt your hand dangerously moving forward to the bottom to grab the salt & vinegar chips Mark mentioned, but you control yourself and pull back not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Instead you opt for plainly salted kettle chips. 

“Thanks… you’ve been a big help. See you never,” you scoffed turning around to face him and pushing past him to pay for your item, leaving Mark in the dust behind you. 

“What you’re not going to even pretend that it’s nice to see me?” 

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” you practically spat at him, the father and daughter from earlier staring at the two you, the father particularly appalled for your colorful choice of language. 

Mark’s silent and you turn back to the self-checkout to scan your chips, hopeful to not think about your ex-boyfriend for the next thirteen hours. He watches you carefully as you take out your wallet to pay and tap your card against the reader. It isn’t difficult for him to sense the tension in your body, he can see it just from you performing the simple and mundane task of paying. The worst part is that he knows he’s the cause. 

Grabbing your snack, you exit the small store and Mark follows you, grabbing your wrist, he tries again, “you could say something nice? Like you care? It’s been two years y/n… Can’t we just be normal people with each other?” 

At this you feel something in you snap, “I don’t care how much time has fucking passed Mark… I’m never going to get over you just completely throwing our relationship out the window. I can’t believe I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you… I was so fucking dumb to think you cared about me for even one minute. So, to answer your question… no we can’t just be normal people with each other. We were never normal people with each other to begin with.” 

The two of you had started off as friends, just friends. It was something new for Mark, being just friends with a girl and not having sex attached. Many people in your life warned you not to get close to him, that he was just a fuckboy who didn’t care about the emotional – it was only the physical with him. Ultimately you ignored him, becoming his friend and finding that you two just worked together. First you worked together as friends and soon you fell under his Mark Tuan spell, working together as lovers. 

Throughout your entire relationship you did your best to trust Mark, which you accomplished for the most part, but in the back of your head you would constantly hear the voices of everyone around you. You would hear the stories of the girls he had before you and how terribly he treated them, but you ignored it all. After a while you started to think of it all a little less, people even congratulating you on lasting so long with Mark – something that tended to annoy you. You knew that they didn’t see the Mark that you knew, the Mark that wanted to be something else for you, the best for you. Then after three years together, almost a month after your anniversary, you found out he had been with someone else. 

The old Mark had perhaps never truly vanished, but was just immensely good at hiding. 

Now here you were in front of him and you couldn’t tell who this Mark was. 

Mark scoffed, “you haven’t changed at all…” Now he was mad at you? “It’s probably better we just say goodbye here.” 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time.” 

He wanted to say more, but looking at how annoyed you were at merely being close to him, he let it go. It was hard for him to understand how he was feeling. He longed for you, but he also felt a lot of anger towards you that he wasn’t sure how to control. 

Both of you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to be the first one to walk off. Without a word, you both collect yourselves and assumedly prepare to embark on your respective gates. Mark gives you a final glance with his fists now clenched in frustration and turns to walk toward his flight. 

You realize he’s going the same direction as you and you follow awkwardly behind. After a moment – as if he can sense you’re still there – he turns around and scowls at you. 

“Why are you following me?” 

You snorted, the actual audacity of Mark Tuan. This is an airport for fuckssake, you can’t control where your flight is, “as if I would ever follow you! I’m going to my gate! I think the better question is why are you following me?”

“I’m going to my gate!” 

“Okay!” You yell a little too loud, “Okay!” he repeated, matching your volume. You can sense that people are starting to stare at the two of you for your truly unprompted yelling. 

Mark looks back at you once again, rolling his eyes. The two of you may have gates in the same area, but you can’t stand to look at him any longer – much less his back which you couldn’t help but notice has become much broader. Not that you would admit it to him… or anyone. 

You pick up your pace, passing Mark and causing him to trail behind. You expect him to say some snarky remark or rude comment when you go in front of him, but instead all you hear is an annoyed groan. It’s when you finally reach your gate and sit down in the waiting area that you feel Mark is no longer right behind you, but instead frozen in the main concourse, in front of the space you’re seated in. He feels his mouth go dry and he wants to scream. All he wants is to just be rid of you, to not be forced to think of you when you’re right in front of him. He wanted to wipe his brain clean. 

It suddenly dawns you on the reason why Mark is frozen as if he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. You stand up abruptly, “this can’t be happening.” 

He snaps out of his trance with your words and comes closer to the gate, approaching where you’re seated. You’re just about to wave your hands, warning him not to come any closer when he huffs and sits down on a chair only few away from your own. 

“You’re going to Seoul?” He says it as if you being allowed in the Korean peninsula is a disgusting idea. 

“I’ve been traveling between LA and Seoul every 2 months for the last year and a half, so yes I am. Aren’t you supposed to be going to Beijing or something?”

He smirked, “I thought you didn’t care about what I was up to?” 

“I only care if it assures that you’re as far away from me as humanely possible.”

Your ex looks at his watch and at the screen of the gate alerting passengers that boarding would begin in a few minutes, “well since you’re so curious. I didn’t like Beijing, so I found a job in Seoul that I like much better. 

“Didn’t want to come back to LA?” 

He looks back to you and you almost wish he hadn’t, “there’s not really a lot left in LA for me anymore.” 

Both of you stare at one another for a moment, and you feel your stomach flip. Does he mean what I think he means? Your eyes drift down to your lap and you feel yourself pulling out your phone, not needing any more Mark. 

You manage to pass 10 minutes this way, aimlessly refreshing your emails and ignoring Brian’s latest text asking if you’ve boarded yet. Being so engrossed in your phone, you didn’t even notice Mark’s constant glances up at you, wondering what you were looking at or who you were talking to. 

There it is again, he thought to himself, Do I care? Do I not care? What the fuck, make up your mind dude. 

When the call for First-Class boarding comes to your dismay, both you and Mark stand up. You try to just tell yourself that it’s not important, you would probably both be seated aisles apart, not having to spend any more unwarranted time together. 

Even when you’re finally on the plane and find yourself behind him once again in the aisle, you tell yourself that this will be the last moment you have to see Mark Tuan. 

“Here’s your seat sir, can I get you any drinks or snacks before take-off?” the flight attendant asked Mark when she shows him his seat. He gives this shit eating grin that makes you want to slap it off his face, you couldn’t believe he was doing this in front of you. What? Did he think he was going to get to fuck the flight attendant as an extra First-Class amenity? 

“Ah no thank you, I’m fine for now, but I’ll let you know if anything changes,” you feel awkward standing in the aisle watching this unfold, especially since you can see the attendant is giving in, blush creeping up on her face from Mark’s smooth gaze. You clear your throat, reminding her that you too are there and she quickly turns to you, an apologetic look on her face. 

“And here's your seat Miss,” she graciously steps back to let you slide into your seat and you don’t move.

This had to be a joke. 

You looked from your seat, to Mark’s and then to the flight attendant. 

“I can’t sit here... I’m sorry but there has to be another seat available.” 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but there are no other openings in First Class. We only have seats available back in economy.” 

This couldn’t be happening. You had been saving all of your miles for a First-Class upgrade for forever, there was no way you were going to give it up, “Mark move to coach.” 

“Huh? Are you joking? My company paid for this; I’m not moving back there! You move!” 

How were you supposed to sit in front of Mark Tuan for the next thirteen hours? The man who had loved you so deeply, but also caused you the most pain. 

Just as people had stared at the two of you in the terminal, the other passengers in your surrounding area were also beginning to look. Maybe if the two of you got into one of your notorious screaming matches, someone would feel bad enough and offer to trade. You couldn’t do that to someone, you wouldn’t wish being stuck next to Mark Tuan on a long-haul flight on your worst enemy. Well… Mark was your worst enemy. 

Smiling, you turn back to the flight attendant, “It’s fine… I’ll just stay here. Thank you though.” She gives you a smile, but you can sense some annoyance behind her eyes. You can’t blame her. 

Mark looks at you wide eyed, previously caught up in organizing his space, but snapping out his activities when he hears your dismissal about moving seats, “uh… what are you doing? Are you seriously going to sit here?” 

“Yes Mark. Unlike you, I paid for my seat so I’m not moving anywhere.” 

He scoffed, “Fine.” 

“Fine!” 

-- 

hour one 

“Ma’am could you tell the gentleman in 3A to stop chewing so loudly?” You asked the flight attendant, putting on the sweetest voice possible. Mark was driving you up the wall and you were only an hour into the flight. 

It was almost as though you could hear every single cough, every shifting in his seat and it was all driving you up the wall. Just knowing he was there irked you.

The flight attendant looks clueless and as she opens her mouth slowly, unsure of how to respond. You hear Mark’s low voice grumble from behind you, also addressing the attendant, “uh ma’am can you tell the lady in 2A to mind her own business, pop a xanny and just go to sleep?” 

She clearly wasn’t expecting to deal with any difficult passengers this early on in a thirteen-hour flight. For her sake you wish you could deal with Mark and be more civil, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. 

hour three 

“Y/n…” 

Be strong, you tell yourself, don’t look back, you can get through this.  

“Y/n?” 

It’s probably not important… He just wants to annoy you. 

“Y/n!” 

Screw being strong. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Being in semi-pods in First-Class it was difficult to just whip around and face Mark, to show him your annoyance under the lights beginning to dim. 

“Do you have any extra AirPods?” 

“Why the fuck would I just carry around extra Airpods around with me? Are you an idiot?” You sneered. 

“Jesus Christ I was just asking. You don’t have to be so vicious. Maybe someone should fuck the tension out of you,” he said, mumbling the last part. He says it so quietly and so half assed that you almost think that you misheard him. 

“Choke on a dick Mark,” you replied quietly, not wanting the other passengers to hear or disturb the few who had already drifted asleep. 

He scoffed, “maybe you should be.” 

You were wrong, the Mark that you had reunited with was just the same old fuckboy Mark who didn’t give a fuck about anyone. 

Placing your AirPods in your ears, you close your eyes and ignore the rest of Mark’s efforts to speak to you, just wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up in your hotel room in Seoul. 

hour seven 

You pop your headphones out of your ears in frustration, feeling as though you hadn’t managed to get any real sleep during the hours that had passed. You look behind you to Mark’s seat, and feel relieved to see his eyes closed and a slow, shallow breath coming from his mouth. 

It felt weird to gaze at Mark and know you were no longer apart of his life. Sure, it had been two years, but you hadn’t seen  him or had to deal with the reality that there was now a separate you and a separate Mark. Two entities that had nothing to do with one another anymore. Although sometimes it felt like you were still anchored to him. 

Suddenly he shifted over onto his side, mumbling incoherent words in his sleep. The only thing you could make out was your own name. It made you feel uncomfortable, not because he was clearly dreaming about you, but you felt as though you were invading his private space, infiltrating an intimate moment. 

“y/n… please…” he mumbled. 

You felt like you’d heard enough. The flight was making you restless and you weren’t sure what you would do if you kept listening to Mark’s breathless calls for you. Standing up, you decide it’s probably best now to stretch and go to the bathroom, before you embark on your further slumber. 

When you finish up in the bathroom, you almost have a heart attack pulling back the door to be met with Mark’s tall figure.

“Oh my god you scared me,” you said placing your hand on your chest. You shake your head, stepping out of the bathroom with the door closing firmly behind you. Attempting to go back to your seat, you position yourself to move past him, but he moves along with you to keep you from leaving.

“What are you doing?” 

Mark doesn’t know what’s taken over him, he had woken up in a frenzy, his dreams not doing anything to help his mental state. He hadn’t dreamt about you in months, but of course as soon as you’re back in his life he has to have fantasies of you wrapped around him once again. It was torturous, especially with you only a few feet away from him. He dreamed about having you every way and any way, feeling like he was going crazy. When he saw you missing from your seat, he immediately got up almost as if in a sleep induced haze unable to control his actions.

"When are you going to stop pretending that you don’t want to be under me again?” he purred.

Your blood goes cold. Was he drunk? His words make you nervous, scared that someone could hear, but looking around the dark cabin it seemed as though everyone in First-Class was fast asleep. 

“Mark…” you begin, your tone clearly frustrated, but also weakening a bit, clearly evident that his words are affecting you. It had been so long since someone talked to you like this, and you felt that the hours you had spent on the plane already altering your sanity.

“You were always such a good girl for me, what changed? When did you become so stubborn? What happened to my girl who was always so willing and sweet?” 

“I was screwed over by an asshole, that’s what happened,” you mumbled trying to avert his gaze and prayed that maybe if you weren’t to look at him you could pretend that there wasn’t a part of you hanging on his every word. 

“That was in the past. I’ve changed now… But I’m still your boy. Even after two fucking years, I’m still yours.” 

You want to fight with him, say that if he was always your boy and still is then he would have never cheated on you. He would have never spent a night with someone else.  

“Let me fuck the anger out of you.” 

“What?” Okay he had to be drunk.

“You and I have too much sexual tension, and we’re both angry so let’s just fuck to relieve the tension.” 

“You’ve said some pretty fucking dumb things before, but this is… this is…” you drift unsure of what exactly you think it is. 

“A good idea?” 

“Mark I’m not having sex with you in an airplane bathroom.” 

“What? Like that’s bothered you before?” 

When you were with Mark, the two of you would have sex in the riskiest places, so you weren’t a stranger to the kind of sex where you could be caught at any moment, but you had never joined the mile-high club before. 

“We’re not together. I hate you and you hate me… for some reason.” You never understood why exactly Mark had been mad at you all of these years and acted as though you were the devil himself when he had been the one that ruined the two of you. Maybe it was because you hadn’t given him a second chance? Maybe it was from the influence of you hating him? Or maybe it was because you had never been enough for him, otherwise what would have caused him to spend the night with another woman? 

Mark clicked his tongue and it causes you to bring your attention to his mouth. It almost makes you lose focus completely. “So what if we’re not together anymore? Does that matter?” 

Does that matter? 

His words make you remember something. Something very important. 

Brian. 

“Yes, it matters. I-I have a boyfriend,” for some reason the word “boyfriend” seems to be hard to get out. It was always weird to associate Brian as your boyfriend or your “partner,” but saying it to Mark felt like the weight of a ton of bricks. 

In the dark lighting of the cabin you can just make out the frown that spreads across Mark’s face. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone and the cocky façade is back. 

“And that’s a problem?” your ex asked. 

As you’re about to protest and tell him that commitment in relationships is important to you, Mark reaches his hand out to rest on your bare shoulder, running it softly up and down your arms in a soothing pattern. It was a common gesture between the two of you, something Mark would constantly do whenever you were telling a story or the times you would fall asleep at night. It puts you at ease and you feel yourself close your eyes at his touch. 

Mark would be lying if he said the word “boyfriend” coming out of your mouth didn’t disappoint him. In fact, he felt a similar pain to the one he felt two years ago when you had broken up with him. Mark wasn’t daft, he knew what you thought of him – a player, a fuckboy and someone who never cared about you in the first place. It hurt him to know that you were just like everyone else around him who had a preconceived notion of who he was or what he did. At one point in time he thought you were different. 

But now looking at you and having you back in his life – even for only a thirteen-hour plane ride, he just wanted you back in his arms, back under his touch. He knew he should have felt guilty for not giving one fuck about this “boyfriend” you had acquired at some point during your two years apart, but he didn’t care. If he was going to have to be that cocky fuckboy who paid no mind to any consequences to get you, then so be it. 

“Come on… it’s been two years… let me feel that pussy that I’ve missed so so much,” he whispered seductively against the shell of your ear, “let me fuck into it so good, because I know no one’s filled it up so well since me. Especially not that boyfriend.” 

His words cause you to moan involuntarily and the noise awakens both you and him. You immediately shoot your hand up to cover your mouth, unsure of what’s getting into you. You were supposed to hate Mark, you had spent the last two years training yourself to hate him just in case a moment like this were ever to arise. But maybe that was an easier thing to imagine when you hadn’t seen him, because now with his hands gently caressing you and his request to be inside of you once again, you feel anything but hate. You feel want.

“Fuck Mark…” 

“Just say the word baby, and you have me,” he whispered, delicately placing an open mouth kiss on your wrist, slowly continuing up your arm. 

What were the pros and cons of this? If you were in any other difficult situation you would take a pause and list all of the good and bad things that could come from this. The big con was Brian… Even if you had been feeling strange about where your relationship with him was going and found him to be suffocating, you couldn’t do to him what Mark had done to you. Another negative factor emerged in your mind… you didn’t want to be put under Mark’s spell again, you couldn’t. Even being this close to him made you feel things that you had been trying to forget for two years, sleeping with him after all this time would only make it worse. That worried you. But judging on the primal way your body was reacting to Mark – your wet core being a clear sign – you knew this wasn’t going to be a logical decision where the cons outweigh the pros. 

“I-” you’re about to do it, you’re about to gain enough strength to tell him you don’t want him anymore, but when he pushes your hair away from where it lays on your shoulder and attaches his lips to the side of your neck, any willpower you had vanishing. His gentle sucking on the sweet spot of your neck that he knows oh too well causes you to let out a whimper and he smiles against your skin, knowing he has you. 

“Do it,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. 

Mark brings his lips back to your ear, “do what baby?” His cocky tone makes you want to roll you eyes. He had always done this – torture you until you were begging to feel his touch. 

You open your eyes and give yourself a moment to readjust to the dark lighting of the plane and focus on Mark’s face in the small space in front of the bathroom. You want to see his gaze when you make your non-logical decision.

“Fuck me.” 

The corner of his mouth turns upwards as he brings his arm forward and behind you to pull open the bathroom door, pushing you backwards into the cramped space. 

It’s when he’s pressed up against you and locks the door behind him that the reality of what you’re doing sets in. Just as you feel yourself get used to the harsh lighting, you freeze at Mark’s intense stare. 

“What are you looking at?” You asked. 

He smiled and glanced down at the floor shyly, then back up at you, “You.” 

For the first time since seeing him again at the airport store you feel those feelings in your stomach. No hate, no indifference and no bitterness towards Mark - not even just lust. Instead you felt a warmth for him that reminded you of the good days, not the bad ones. The swell in your heart worried you and you didn’t want to feel or dwell on it so you lean forward and kiss him.

Mark’s lips on yours doesn’t do anything to eliminate the softness you felt for him moments before, if anything it only intensifies it. It feels as though no time has passed for the two of you and the missing piece of the puzzle that you had been searching for has finally found its way back to you. 

A low growl comes from Mark’s throat and it sends your hands to find shelter in his hair. When you were together you had always had a weird thing for Mark’s hair. You loved running your fingers through it, gently massaging his scalp and tugging at the roots. Mark would always joke that you would probably break up with him if he ever shaved his head, which you didn’t exactly argue with. And now it just felt so good to have your hands where they belong. It’s almost as though Mark’s read your mind and he smiles against you lips when he feels your hands, “pull as hard as you want.” 

You feel his tongue at the seam of your lips, urging itself through to deepen the kiss and you tell yourself that it’s not too late, this can be the moment that you opt out for what a mistake this would be. With his hands drifting down from your hips to your ass, you feel yourself part your mouth voluntarily, realizing that you don’t want to stop this. You want to make this mistake; you want nothing more than to let him feel you and taste you even more. 

“I want to taste you so bad,” Mark whispered against your lips, “see if you taste as good as I remember.” 

You want that more than anything. Mark had always been so good with his tongue and just thinking about the hours he had spent between your thighs in the past made you even wetter than when you were having sex with Brian. Judging however, on the space you were both in, you didn’t know if it was physically possible. He can sense your hesitancy by the way your lips begin to still against his. 

He breaks apart from you and gently rubs his thumb along your jawline and lips, “don’t think too much.” In an instant Mark’s crouched down in the very small space in the bathroom and you immediately find yourself worried about his comfort level, “are you sure you’re okay?” 

He looked up at you, a dark look in his eyes and waved you off, “don’t worry about me babe, I’m about to have the best meal of my life.” At the end of his sentence he reaches up to the hem of your leggings and pulls them, along with your panties down in one sweep, pushing them aside. You’re almost surprised at his loftiness, but you remind yourself that it’s Mark. He moves a hand around to the back of your knee, hoisting one of your legs up onto the closed toilet seat, pushing the rest of your body up against the small sink counter. Although the space was already limited as it was, the position brought your core closer to his face and as you looked down to see the way his tongue stroked across his lips, you felt yourself already get lightheaded. 

He began with leaving open mouth kisses along the inside of your lifted thigh and another on the top of your pubic mound. It was enough to make you feel shaky, as though the one leg that was supporting your weight would give out at any moment. You found yourself unfazed, you knew Mark would be there to catch you if you fell. 

Mark leaned in further, his tongue delving between you folds to gather up as much of your wetness as he could, giving you a noisy taste that had him groaning, head pulling back and licking his lips after his first taste in two years.

“You taste even better than I remember, how the fuck could you get sweeter? I don’t even want to go back to my seat after tasting you, I could sit in this bathroom with my mouth on you till the end of the flight.” 

You found yourself wanting nothing more than to be stuck in this crammed bathroom with Mark for as long as you both could get away with. The person who was contemplating whether or not this was a bad idea didn’t even exist to you anymore. One lap of his tongue on you and you were reminded of all the ways he could make you fall apart. 

He tongued your clit slowly at first, every stroke almost teasing – as if he was making up for the years you two spent a part. His tongue would slip lower, working its way along your gushing entrance to remind you how much he relished your flavor before returning to your clit, the wet sounds of Mark’s sucking not even embarrassing to you. It was when Mark began to groan against you and swirl his tongue and suck that you felt your hands go back to his hair, roughly pulling him closer. 

“Mark, I-I can’t… I’m gonna – fuck,” you moaned out unable to form a functional and coherent thought. As you feel your orgasm on the horizon and just around the corner, you tug at Mark’s roots further, which encourages him to pick up the pace of his tongue, wanting you to cum on his face just like you had many times before. He wanted to drive you to the brink of pleasure, but he also wanted to prove to himself that he could still bring you to the edge with just his tongue.

Any delicacy he had been exhibiting before is completely gone, the way he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves causes your chest to heave and sweat on your brow. You’re so caught up in Mark that you barely notice your foot beginning to slip from its security on the toilet. Mark swiftly acknowledges your pending loss of balance and tugs the leg up onto his shoulder, not removing himself from you for even a moment. 

You could feel yourself twitch and the arching of your hips towards his face, “come on baby I know how close you are, I need you to cum for me. Cum for me like all the times before, all over my face. I want it so bad.” 

Mark’s muffled words against you and the final groans he emits from how much he loves your taste is the last straw as you finally let go and the waves of release crash over you. He doesn’t give way as you buck yourself further into him one final time, his back practically hitting the wall of the bathroom. Your body comes down from your climax and you look to see Mark gratefully clean up the release he caused. When he takes his mouth away, you feel your core wavering against the emptiness and loss of warmth it had felt, almost as though it wanted Mark to be a permanent attachment to you. You’re breathless, head falling back to the mirror behind you as Mark stands up, wiping the back of his mouth and jawline which had become messy and shiny with your juices. 

“I knew you were still my little slut,” he pushes the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind you, “letting me have you in a fucking bathroom at 35,000 feet. How else will you let me have you?” He asked attaching his lips back to that spot on your neck. 

It dawns on you that there’s no winning. You once again are completely under the spell and at the mercy of Mark Tuan, willing to let him do whatever he wants to you. “M-Mark whatever you want.” At your response he simply smirked, quickly pulling his joggers and boxers down, his painfully hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. 

“Fuck I’ve been waiting so long to have you around me again. I never thought I would, and I’m going to make every second count.” 

He positions himself in between your legs, gripping your hips and pauses for a moment, clearly contemplating something. Mark hadn’t planned on having sex on the plane, nor did he plan on even seeing you again. 

“Mark if it’s about the condom, it’s fine… I don’t care, I’m still on the pill and I-I trust you.” 

At your trust in him, something he had so deeply been wanting all these years, he doesn’t hesitant another moment at placing himself at your entrance. His teasingly slow rubbing against your slit causes you to let out almost a growl at how much you needed him to be inside of you.

“How much do you want it y/n?” 

“So bad.” 

He pushes into you suddenly, “you’re still my cockslut, huh?” The feeling is too good and too great to answer him, but he’s not satisfied with your nonresponse.

“Answer me.” He sunk himself inside of you further and you do your best to let out the smallest and most inaudible “yes” you’ve ever heard, which thankfully seems to be enough for him. 

“God,” he groaned, “you’re still so tight.” He looks down at the space where your bodies meet, fixating his gaze at the visual of his cock slipping inside your sensitive and swollen folds. Mark waited for a moment for your pussy to get used to having him inside you again, to get reintroduced to his length and girth which it had been so accustomed to in the past. Despite the time that had passed, you felt no discomfort except for the mental discomfort in your head that just wanted him to fuck into you quickly and harshly. 

“Taking me so well, squeezing every inch of me. This pussy knows who it belongs to, who it deserves to be fucked by.” 

“M-Mark,” a final moan of his name is all it takes for him to begin his first real thrust into you, pulling himself out almost entirely. You feel so sensitive and overworked from your earlier orgasm that you aren’t sure how long you can last with the way your walls are clenching around Mark. 

His pace soon became brutal and you’re thankful the loud sound of the engine could cover up the whimpers coming from your mouth and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Mark’s fingers press into your hips so firmly that you know there will be bruises that you’ll have to explain later, but for now the only thing you can focus on is how full Mark is making you feel. He removes his hand from your side and brings it down between the two of you, fixating on your clit, rubbing until it ached. It caused your body to clench on him further, the continual touch and his fucking into you making you roll your eyes into the back of your head. 

Mark groaned at how snug you felt and how deep you were taking him, his head falling into the crook of your neck and against the bathroom mirror, “whose are you?” 

You know what he wants you to say, but you don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, even in the heat of the moment. It could lead to misunderstandings and a more complex outcome than just that of having sex with him in a fucking airplane bathroom. 

“Whose are you?” He repeated, this time a little bit softer and removing his head from your shoulder to look at you with worrisome eyes. Mark knows that if you say you’re his it’d most likely be untrue, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to hear it one more time, even if it’s a complete and utter lie. He wants to know he has you, even if it’s for this one moment. 

“Yours, I’m all yours,” you breathe out. It comes out on its own, without any time for you to process or comprehend what you’re saying. It surprises you so much that you aren’t even sure if it’s a lie or not. 

That’s all he needed and he thrusts into you even harder, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you want to completely fall apart and combust. You’re too caught up in the pleasure of him ramming into you that you don’t even feel the pain that comes with your backside being continually pushed into small counter of the sink. 

“Cum for me baby, I’m close and I need us to do this together. It’s all I want,” Mark said. His tone perplexes you. It’s forceful and authoritative something that you were no stranger to when it came to sex with Mark, but there was a clear tenderness to it that had you second guessing everything. Maybe this wasn’t just sex. 

It’s one more strum of his cock against your g-spot and the pinching of your clit with his thumb and index finger that has you climaxing around him. The almost violent pulse from your pussy around him due to your orgasm has Mark following close behind, spilling himself deep inside of you. The ecstasy coursing through you causes your entire body to shake and twitch, wanting to collapse completely onto the bathroom floor. You fall against Mark’s body and in his own exhausted state he holds you close, protectively wrapping his arms around you making you feel secure. 

You should want to get out of the situation immediately as a one-time thing, but somehow you can’t bring it in you to remove yourself from his grasp. You felt at home with Mark’s arms around you and him still inside of you. It was a comfort a sense of normalcy you hadn’t felt with anyone since Mark. He softly strokes your hair, placing gentle kisses on the top of your head remembering how much you liked it after a tiring session of sex.

It feels as though no time has passed, but soon you find yourself out of Mark’s hold. He removes his now soft cock from you and you can feel yours and his cum leaking from your core, down to your thighs. It’s almost as though this movement has finally woken you up. You delicately collapse onto the toilet, making sure to take extra care with your now jelly-like legs. With your head in your hands in disbelief at the actions you had just willingly followed through on, Mark stares at you. 

“Fuck… I’m so mad at myself.”

With the small amount of space, he has, Mark shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “why? That was so fucking great.” 

You looked up at him in a scolding manner, he still had no perception of reality, but apparently now you were one and the same. “Because now I did the same thing to Brian that you did to me.”

There’s a pause and Mark avoids all eye contact with you. He had imagined this talk so many times – the talk the two of you never got to have and he really didn’t want it to be here, like this. But by some strike of luck, fate had brought you back to him, even for a short period of time and he may never get the opportunity to come clean again. 

Choosing to continue to avert your gaze, Mark sighs deeply and busies himself with pulling up his joggers. 

“I didn’t cheat on you.”  

You feel like ice and your whole body goes numb, “W-what?” 

He sighs again, looking down, “I never cheated on you.” 

You think there’s no way you could have heard him correctly. Your entire break up, the reason you ended your passionate love story with the one person you saw a future with came from his cheating. It couldn’t be a lie… Could it? 

One thing was for certain, you knew Mark so well and judging by the fidgeting and fiddling with his fingers you can tell you still do. And he was telling the truth. Your stomach flipped. 

“Then why did you let me believe that you did?”

“You were the only person in my life who didn’t believe all those stupid rumors about me, the only person who didn’t believe I was a fuckboy like everyone thought… but then the moment someone tells you they think they saw me with someone, you pack your bags. I figured you wouldn’t believe me, just like everyone else.”

It’s ridiculous. The words coming out of his mouth are ridiculous, but part of you understands what he’s saying. Maybe you had been too quick to judge, too quick to believe everyone else’s preconceived notions regarding your own boyfriend, but what were you supposed to do when he didn’t even defend himself? 

“You know… even after all this time, I still don’t know why I hated you. I really don’t know if it was because I thought you cheated or because you never went after me when I left.” 

Mark’s silent, and the weight of the situation continues to hit the two of you like a bus. Part of you feels betrayed by him. More betrayal then when you first heard the rumors. The two of you could have been together this whole time, saved each other from years of pain, sorrow and longing, but instead it’s almost as though he forced it upon you both.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Jesus fuck Mark we’re not Marianne and Connell from Normal People, we can talk to each other.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Who?” 

“I’ve been watching a lot of TV since we broke up.” 

There’s another silence between the two of you and in the small space it feels deafening and suffocating. You want nothing more than to go back to your seat and forget this even happened. Weirdly enough, the sex part you were fine with. It was this conversation that left you feeling like you couldn’t get a proper breath of air into your lungs, almost as if you were drowning. 

You take a piece of toilet paper from the roll beside you and use it to attempt to clean up the mess that had already begun drying on your legs. Mark watches you mindlessly, unsure of what to say himself. He knows he made a mistake from not telling you and effectively keeping the two of you apart, but every time he would reach for the phone to dial your number he would be reminded of the pain he felt and all the things you had called him that day. 

Everyone was right! Why didn’t I just fucking listen to them? Does a three year relationship mean nothing to you? I thought you changed… were different… but now I just feel like I wasted my time.

“I-I really don’t know what to say if I’m honest,” you finally stuttered out, grabbing your discarded leggings and pulling them on, “did you want me to leave you?”

Mark shakes his head vigorously, completely taken aback at you even thinking that, “no... Not at all... I just- it was complicated.”

“Right and you don’t do complicated. Got it.” You stand up and move to unlock the door, but Mark moves in front of you as he did earlier. 

“Y/n... Can we just talk about this? When we land can we just go to a cafe and talk about everything? I still- I mean... even after all this time I-” He begins, but you’re too scared to hear him finish the sentence.

“Mark we’ve had a lot of time to talk. Just please let me go back to my seat.” 

This time he makes no effort to stop you from leaving and you quickly slip out of the bathroom, fearful someone might see you. Luckily, everyone is still fast asleep and you walk back down the aisle to your seat wanting to forget about what Mark had said.  

You couldn’t deal with the what ifs, you couldn’t get lost in a fantasy of imagining that maybe you and Mark could be married already if he would have just said something. You couldn’t be that cruel to yourself.

After a few moments, you notice the bathroom occupied sign go away, signaling Mark’s arrival back to his seat. 

He knows he could just sit down and go back to sleep, falling back in to the way things were. But he had already not tried to go after you once before and he had been regretting it ever since. He had to say fuck that to all of the fears he had of being judged and put trust back into someone again. He wanted you.

Your eyes which had drifted closed soon shot open as you felt a movement at the side of your chair, turning to see Mark crouched down next you

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I already let go of you once, I’m not doing it again. If I have to spend the next,” he brings his watch up to look at the time, “six hours convincing you, then so be it. I’m not letting walk away from me this time.” At his final word he moves his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear and goes to sit down. His eyes piercing into the back of your seat.

You felt Mark’s words, you felt them deeply in every part of you and it made you think that the Mark you love was still in there. 

Love.

You still loved him.

The beating of your heart made it difficult to fall asleep, but when you finally did you had a decision made and a smile on your face. 

[firstlovesuggestions]

I am 19, and have never been in a relationship. I have only kissed one person once and have no other experiences other than being rejected. I have strong love for myself so I appreciate that. And it’s not like I don’t want to be with someone but I am very picky and I will not change that as I know what I’m worth and what I deserve. I am willing to wait because I know I’ll be ready when they are in my life. However, I don’t know how much time will pass and I am scared that I don’t know how to act in a relationship while other people have the basics and experiences down by that age. I just don’t want to mess something up that could be so wonderful for me just because I never got to before. I don’t know how to be a girlfriend or anything so... while I could certainly find a boyfriend if I really tried, I want it all to happen when the time is right the universe will know when I’m ready. Still, that’s the only thing that I’m kinda scared of

Sorry if this long and doesn’t make sense at times :)

Be picky. Keep those standards high. Don’t settle for anything less than what you know you want and deserve. I love this attitude, so keep it going strong!

The uncertainty is heavy sometimes, because there really is this societal pressure to fit a romantic timeline of dating at 16, being engaged in your early twenties, getting married a year later, and having kids before you’re thirty whether you want to or not. The world is fortunately changing and slowly moving in the right direction, but it’s still something in the back of your mind. You really have a great mindset about this, though.

Whether you’re 25 or 30, or even older than that, you’ll be happy knowing you waited and stuck to your principles. When you find that someone that you find meets those standards, “being a girlfriend” will happen on its own, and you will be able to learn and grow as things progress. Even with the best person, things won’t always be perfect, but you can almost always bounce back from any disagreement or argument if they’re someone willing to work with you as a couple rather than as an individual, so it’s not so likely that you’ll ruin anything for good. It just takes time and development, so when you get there, things will sort of come naturally with a little push here and there.

I gotta say, I was really picky and didn’t find my love until quite a bit later than everyone I went to high school with and friends I made thereafter. But I’m so glad I waited, because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more. It feels so right because it’s like the universe brought us together. And you deserve this too, and you know it.

And just remember, even if your first relationship isn’t your last, it doesn’t mean it was a failure or a waste of time, or that you settled for someone wrong. You gain an understanding of people that you didn’t have before, and you learn what you don’t want in your next relationship. Your standards can change even if you’re still keeping them high, and that’s not a bad thing.

I’m rooting for you here! Try not to let those small, nagging thoughts bother you too much (easier said than done, of course). You’ll be just fine, so again, keep being picky and loving yourself the way you are 💕

[cupofteaguk]

a begin again drabble  ↪ or, when a new professor shows up at hogwarts 

There are many upsides and downsides to dating Jung Hoseok. 

On one hand, he’s genuinely one of the nicest people you’ve had the pleasure of encountering. Being able to date him is just an extension of getting to see what kind of person Hoseok really is. Aside from his kind and understanding nature—underneath all those layers just lay the simple quality and fact that he really is nice and sweet and you adore those aspects of him. 

On the other head, he’s genuinely one of the nicest people you’ve had the pleasure of encounter. He’s too nice, too understanding, too sweet and that type of personality constantly threatens to get on your nerves on more than one occasion. Most of the time, it’s little things that can result in exasperated, but otherwise fake, arguments about what to eat for dinner, whether to risk a trip to Hogsmeade during peak grading season would be worth the trouble, if you wanted to sleep over in his quarters for the evening or not… 

Those little playful banters are nothing major or serious. They are parts of the relationship you share with Hoseok that makes it so fun, so unexpected, and everything you could have wanted plus a little bit more. It makes you truly realize how well you get along with Hoseok; how perhaps the formation of a romantic connection between the two of you is meant to be and that all those years of being away from each other despite believing neither of you knew each other that well was just a missed opportunity. 

But sometimes Hoseok’s kindness really does make you want to strangle yourself. Or him. Or the very new, very attractive female professor who keeps giving him curious side glances and smiles that linger for a second too long—just like right now. And it’s hard not to feel the slightest bit unhinged when Hoseok doesn’t do anything to distance himself from her touches and her giggles. 

Maybe you’re just jealous. Jealous over your boyfriend’s relentless good cheer, something that has not faded away or wavered in the slightest even when the pair of you went to school together. Maybe you’re jealous over the fact that Hoseok gets along so well with this new professor in particular—almost the same way that you and Hoseok got along when you first started working at Hogwarts. 

The sudden worry that you could be replaceable in Jung Hoseok’s life, the thought that perhaps he would only keep you around until some other prettier, equally doe-eyed individual walked into his life fills your head with immediate doubt. Given that you and Hoseok have only been… somewhat of an item for a few months, it doesn’t fill you with too much confidence in the level of commitment both of you have for the relationship. There’s only so much your nerves will let you talk about before the fear of Hoseok’s expectations not matching with yours keeps you at bay. 

It keeps you gritting your teeth together as you hunch over your desk in the empty classroom, attempting to grade the Transfiguration essays your first years have written. However, it’s hard to remain entirely focused on alphabet knowledge when Professor Hoseok and Professor Irene are standing outside the door frame of your class, talking and gushing to one another about god knows what. Normally, you don’t have a problem with Hoseok conversing with coworkers (as with him to you), but something about Hoseok and Irene talking threatens to make your heart drop to your chest and burn up all in a combination that can only be compared to some terrible anxiety. 

You’re not too sure—maybe it’s the way Irene laughs a little too loudly and reaches over to oh-so-casually grace her hand down his arm and how Hoseok does absolutely nothing to stop her actions. Even though you don’t know the content of the situation or what they’re even talking about in the first place, that doesn’t stop you from allowing a bitter tang to enter your head, your stomach, your heart. The way Hoseok is smiling down at Irene reminds you a little too much about how Hoseok smiles at you and it brings a fireload of questions down upon you. 

You force yourself to remain focused on the task at hand, leaning down in order to keep the pair at your door frame out of your line of sight. It’s still hard to stay preoccupied when the giggling feels as if it’s right next to your face. 

You’re about two seconds away from straightening up and hiding away in your own personal office space to get away—not just from the distracting chatter but also from the burning sensation threatening to cloud your better judgement. However, before you can start to make the transition, the footsteps entering distracts you as you look up just in time to see Hoseok making his way towards you. 

“Hey you,” He greets, flashing you his typical warm smile that never fails to make butterflies erupt in your stomach but the thought of him smiling at Irene in the same way leaves a more pressing worry that makes it difficult to return his hello. 

“Hey,” You manage instead, playing a weak smile in the hopes that Hoseok will simply read it as stress. 

It seems to work, because he furrows his eyebrows sympathetically and leans on the desk in the space next to where you’re seated. “Grading kicking your ass right now?” 

You hum. “There’s only so many similar versions of the same topic that I can take before my immediate reaction to reading this is to just cross everything out with a giant red marker.” You sigh. Actually voicing the process of your assignments makes you realize that you are stressed out for a number of different reasons and that perhaps Hoseok’s relationship with Irene is the result of the stress. But still, you cannot stop yourself from feeling this way. “But I have to get it done,” You continue to remark, attempting to keep your voice light. “I feel like I’ve been holding back on this for way too long so I have to get them done.” 

“Hm,” Hoseok remarks quietly, gaze watching your figure for a moment, as if trying to dephiever the source of your slightly dismissive attitude. Maybe the way you refuse to meet his gaze can be slightly misleading, especially since you’re usually an attentive person during conversations, but the fact that you’ve procrastinated on grading a large collection of assignment probably helps ease the suspicion as he writes off your behavior to stress. “So I guess grabbing a quick lunch in the Great Hall is out of the question?” 

“You want to grab lunch?” You ask quietly, pressing your lips together as you sneak a quick glance at the man hovering over your shoulder. “I’m pretty swamped right now—why don’t you ask Professor Irene to go eat with you?” The last part is more of a mumble and is more or less a slip on your behalf and that realization makes your eyes momentarily widen out of fear that Hoseok will get defensive in regards to what that means. 

Instead, Hoseok gives you a confused look. “Why would I ask Irene out to lunch? We were just talking a second ago and I’d rather spend my time with you.” 

“W-Well,” You start, shrugging in an attempt to feign casualness. “I mean, I’m pretty busy and you guys seem to be getting along really well so it makes sense that the two of you would hang out. It’s not like either of us have many options for friends anyways.” 

Your words seem to rid themselves of its dismissive nature because Hoseok actually ponders this thought. “That makes sense,” He reasons with a smile—the type of gesture that reassures you on not alarming Hoseok about the depth of your emotions, but also leaving you to wonder just how much of your sanity will be sacrificed from trying to convince Hoseok about your current state of mind. 

As it turns out, it takes your sanity and a little bit more to get through the next few days of the week. Your busy schedule of grading, teaching, lesson planning, and tutoring keeps you away from Hoseok for long periods of time and he seems to use that as a main justification for spending more time with Irene. You catch them in the hallway as you’re trying to dash to the library or to your first class after catching a quick bite in the Great Hall—talking about god-knows-what but always laughing and always lingering closely together that makes the nerves of jealousy and curiosity spike at your heart. 

You don’t want to be the controlling girlfriend, the one who tells Hoseok he cannot spend time with certain people even though you’re also the one biting off more than you can chew. You had been the one to say it was okay for Hoseok to hang around other people simply because there were moments where you couldn’t fill that void in his life. But still, seeing him hang around Irene and Irene only brings about far too many questions that should be healthy for a girlfriend to face alone. 

Yet the fear of speaking your mind, the fear of Hoseok’s kindness serving as an inability to see where your negative emotions come from, keeps you from speaking but also forces you to stop lingering too closely over the problem. As a result, you unconsciously create distance between you and those problems by burying yourself in your assignments and neglecting your relationship out of fear of saying the wrong thing. 

At first, you’re too distracted with grading midterms and answering inquiries from students that it isn’t hard for you to get lost and caught up in the current event of your day-by-day. However, the more time you spend investing in your work, the more time you see Hoseok and Irene in one another’s company, which leads to more conflicted emotions as you attempt to settle your jealousy despite every bone in your body convincing you that Hoseok enjoyed being with Irene more than he enjoyed being with you, which then leads you to bury yourself further and further into your assignments. And the cycle goes on, over and over again. 

You’ve never been too good at dealing with specific problems head-on, so your body’s first instinct is to suppress the issue, meaning that you avoid aforementioned issue—meaning that you also avoid him. 

“Y/N, I know you’re busy but do you want to grab a quick bite for dinner?” 

“Uh—sorry, can’t. I promised a bunch of my fifth years I’d go over their Transfiguration notes before O.W.L’s come up.” 

“Y/N, can I walk you to your first class?” 

“Aw, that’s really sweet Hoseok but I have to run to the Great Hall super quick just to grab a bagel or something, I’m really hungry.” 

“Y/N, do you have time for a little date down at the Three Broomsticks?” 

“S-Sorry, a lot of students have told me they’re coming down to my office hours to practice the spells we learned in class…” 

Sure, maybe a majority of the excuses you throw in Hoseok’s general direction are entirely truthful, but sometimes you actually go looking for those reasons not to spend too much time with Hoseok. You know it’s a cowardly thing to participate in, but your feelings feel so overpowering and scary that you aren’t entirely sure what would happen or what you would say if they got out of hand. So you resort to saying nothing and hoping that Hoseok would never catch on. 

The hope had been stupid and foolish to begin with, and you realize that as soon as you walk out of Great Hall with the remnants of morning toast around your mouth only to find Hoseok waiting for you just outside. He looks disappointed and you can feel that disappointment leaking off his skin like steam and the sight of him after avoiding him for so many weeks aches at your heart. But it also forces images of his time spent with Irene fill your head and it’s just an endless cycle. 

“P-Professor Hoseok,” You stammer, unsure why you had to attach formality to his name. After all, it’s not like the whole school doesn’t know that the pair of you are dating—word spreads quickly after people found out he fingered you in his office, but you don’t like to talk about that anymore. 

“You’re avoiding me,” Hoseok states, crossing his arms over his chest, going straight to the point and you don’t blame him. 

“I’m not,” You retort, but there is a waver in your voice and Hoseok didn’t even need to be your boyfriend to know how badly you lie through your teeth. “I really have been busy Hobi.” 

You hope the use of the pet name would help ease the potential argument, but he doesn’t let up. “Okay, but you’ve always been the type of person to take aside a few hours to hang out. I get that you’re busy but you won’t even look at me anymore. What’s up with that? Are you… done with me or something?” 

“What? No, no, of course not Hoseok,” You say, letting your own guard down long enough to take a step closer to him. “I didn’t know that’s how you felt—I didn’t even think you would have been missing me…” 

The last part of the sentence is an afterthought but Hoseok sees right through it. “Of course I would be missing you, what are you talking about?” 

You press your lips together, willing yourself not to say too much but you have a feeling that simply opening your mouth has already unlocked more can of worms than you ever intended. You avert your gaze. “I… I don’t know—you’ve been spending so much time with Professor Irene and you seem to really, really enjoy her company and vice versa…” 

“Wait, wait…” Hoseok interrupts, eyebrows furrowing together. “Y/N, do you think I’m cheating on you or something?” 

“No!” You interject, waving your hands briefly in front of your face. “No, I don’t think that at all…” You can feel the nervousness etching itself across your face, the adrenaline of nerves and fight or flight streaming through your blood and you wonder how convincing the statement must sound and look to Hoseok. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you or anything—she’s pretty and smart and funny…” You trail off. The look of absolute disbelief upon Hoseok’s face has told you that you have said too much. “Uh, I have to get going,” You say, blindly taking a look at your wristwatch. You can’t even tell the time with how quickly you glance at it, but you need an excuse to leave the conversation before you could say something you don’t want to hear—or even worse, Hoseok could say something you don’t want to hear. “I have to get ready for my class.” 

You turn on your heel and pace as quickly as you can without making it seem like you were trying to escape, but Hoseok calls your name and you know you aren’t as good at hiding your emotions as you thought. But it doesn’t matter, because you are running as quickly as you can to your class. Some students are already piled inside when you get there and hello’s are exchanged as you settle down at the front of the room and begin setting up the equipment for today’s lecture. It’s Draconifor spells with your third years—typically a more difficult spell to learn just because of the overall complexities that come with trying to transform objects into real things; you already have your work cut out for you. 

The class starts off smoothly and you think that you can get through the lecture without worrying about Hoseok or Irene or wondering what Hoseok is thinking about—until the door to your class slams open and reveals the man himself standing in your doorframe. Over the course of your relationship, you’ve become accustomed to Hoseok dropping by your classroom during lectures to visit but this is not like his usual visits because he’s wide-eyed with a glint you’ve never seen before. 

“Hoseok,” You greet, a touch of hesitancy in your voice and for good reason, given that you had just more or less accused him of cheating on you and so you aren’t entirely sure about what he plans to say. You swallow, wondering if your students can notice the spiking tension in the room. They’re probably use to his presence after having to endure it for so many months. “C-Can I help you with something—?” 

“You think I’m cheating on you?” He interrupts loudly, forcing the room into the kind of silence that makes you want to strangle yourself. You clench your teeth together, face burning with the color of humiliation as you stare ahead at Hoseok. You can’t even picture the expressions upon the faces of your students. 

“H-Hoseok, this really isn’t a good time…” 

“I can’t believe it!” Hoseok carries on, talking as if he had not heard you or had not seen the fact that you are previously occupied at the moment. “I can’t believe you would think that I’m cheating on you. With Professor Irene too!” 

“Hoseok!” You retort, cheeks hurting so much that you think you might just die of embarrassment right then and there. The entirety of your face feels so hot that it becomes hard to see clearly but you still manage to make your way down the aisle towards him, attempting to push him without actually having to use physical force. “We can’t do this right now—!” 

“No.” Hoseok shrugs away from your touch. “We’re gonna do this right now. We’re gonna talk about this right now because I can’t believe you’d think I’d actually cheat on you!” 

“I never said that!” You protest, momentarily forgetting your current setting long enough to fight back and expose your own personal emotions. The room around you suddenly feels empty. “I said I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a crush on her! You’ve been spending so much time with her anyways!” 

“Because you said you were busy!” Hoseok points out. “And how could I have a crush on Irene? I have you.” 

You press your lips together, having not expected the conversation to go in that direction. “W-Well, I just thought—!” You stammer. “How could you not like Irene? She’s pretty and smart and funny and she’s just so much more put together…” 

Hoseok takes in a breath. “Do you think I care about any of that? I mean, those things are fine—but it’s not you. And that makes all the difference because I’m too in love with you to ever, ever look at someone else.” 

You freeze for a moment, completely taken aback by his statement, said without an ounce of hesitation or thought—like it’s the only thing he knows better than he knows himself and you are utterly surprised. 

Because this is the first time Hoseok has admitted that he loves you. 

You are surprised, and it shows in your face. It shows in your widening eyes and parting lips, stolen breathes. Even though you know what he had said, you still find yourself asking: “W-What did you say?” 

And Hoseok seems to make this realization as well—the realization that he’s defining his feelings for you with those three dreaded words that could change everything and he freezes. “I, uh… I said…” 

“You really love me?” You finish, unable to help yourself and unable to help the way the teasing smile inches itself across your lips. 

Hoseok ponders for a second before his eyes meet yours and he takes a step closer. “Of course I am,” He answers. “I’d be stupid not to be in love with you.” 

The teasing smile turns into a shy grin; you angle yourself a little to study Hoseok through your lashes. “That’s nice, because I’m in love with you too.” 

The corner of Hoseok’s lips quirk up, the beautiful beginnings of a laugh pass between his lips as he steps forward to take you in his arms before—! 

“Aw, Professor Hoseok and Professor Y/N are in love!” A shout rings through the third year students in your classroom, causing both of you to jump out of the little world only you belonged to and making you realize that you have just confessed in front of your students. 

Given what happened the first time you and Hoseok hit a milestone in your relationship, this shouldn’t surprise you—and you can’t even begin to imagine what will happen once your sixth years find out. 

[gone-series-orchid]

If there ever does happen to be a Gone TV shows, is there anything that you would want them to do/ change?? I've been thinking about it a lot recently and I think it has the potential to be good but at the same time I feel like (and this is such a rare line of thought from me) if they strictly stick to canon it could be...uncomfortable??

that’s an interesting thought! i think i get what you’re saying. there's a lot of distinctly uncomfortable moments in the series that i think mg didn’t really think through the implications of (like caine’s veiled rape threat to diana that i guess isn’t supposed to affect our feelings toward him to such a degree that we don’t want him to get redeemed, lots of caine being evil for the sake of it, sam being horrible to astrid because she wouldn’t have sex with him, everyone being racist to edilio in the first book and then it...never really comes up again except for the human crew’s cartoonishly evil bigotry which also doesn’t have lasting impact on the fayz after zil and lance die). oof, and that isn’t even touching all the ableism informing little pete and the misogyny you detailed in your post!

if there was anything i’d like the show to do, it’d probably be to streamline the plot a little. like, i love the series, but it gets super messy. the events that happen in individual books seem to rarely carry over aside from major character beats. i love the books’ individual contained subplots, like those that center the perspectives of duck zhang and hunter and zil, and i really hope the tv show maintains them without minimizing them. i think they do a lot to flesh out the fayz’s general population and the scale of morality mg is dealing with. and of course i really hope they adapt orc’s subplot, which is my favorite. but i think some other stuff could be minimized--i liked orsay, but what was the point of giving her a pov? she lessened in importance almost right off the bat once she entered the fayz; she was just a tool for nerezza. and nerezza herself seems like an odd character. i really enjoyed lies for astrid’s arc and the general focus on the fayz’s politics/morality, but honestly i think the tv show should cut back on nerezza and focus on the human villains, meaning zil and the human crew...honestly i think most of my suggestions would be on the structure of the show throughout its seasons (i’m thinking idealistically, of course), because tv shows are so different from books. i guess i worry about the focus being all over the place because there’s so many different povs throughout the books! speaking of...

this may completely contradict my prior point but i literally love the rotating povs of the books and i kind of wish that would be amped up a little in the show? like, instead of being mostly focused on sam with subplots focusing on other characters scattered throughout, i’d love if it was a little more of an ensemble show. in the first season (which i imagine would adapt the first book), i’d really love maybe a few scenes showing off howard and orc’s characters in more detail. we get that scene in gone where orc reveals his father’s abusive nature, and that’s definitely essential if they want to give him some pathos and set up his arc, but i’d love to have little moments where the audience just sees the kids of bully row just vandalizing stuff and messing around. like, establishing that as dumb and bullying as they are, they’re still just kids, and they’re nothing compared to the outright villainy of caine and drake. we get that vibe in the first book, definitely, but i think we’d need more scenes establishing that. i’d love it if we saw that there are certain lines that howard and orc as bullies wouldn’t cross. that would make us feel even more shocked when orc accidentally murders bette. also, i hope we’re shown that scene in the show instead of just being told about it like in the book.

i also hope that the first season gives astrid, like, an actual job/role to fill? there’s like a line in gone where sam calls her his assistant, but i kind of wish she’d be deemed the fayz’s resident researcher or something, preferably before she gets together with sam (which i’ll talk about later) so that the only job description the audience has of her isn’t “sam’s girlfriend.” i also really want the show to give us a couple scenes establishing astrid and edilio as potential leaders of the fayz as well, not just automatically discounting them because they’re not the protagonist. sam can still eventually come out on top, i guess, because it happens in canon, but at least let the characters discuss it in more detail.

also, i want little pete to have an actual relationship with astrid! show how much they care for each other in their own way. astrid can still have her negative feelings toward the responsibility she has in taking care of him, but alongside that should be love. astrid should also keep working with him on his therapy as a means of communicating with him more effectively, which is something i’m super frustrated no one thought to do in canon!

as for character relationships...i sort of wish astrid and sam don’t get together in the first season. focus on building up their friendship first. sam can still have his crush, but there should maybe be some tension whether astrid reciprocates or not. remember that weird plot point where it’s revealed in the later books that astrid was manipulating sam in order to get his protection? even though there’s like...no indication of that in the first book? bring that in from astrid’s pov, with her realizing how dangerous the fayz is (maybe after bette dies). make it ambiguous whether she’s really romantically interested in him. give her sympathy; show her fear for herself and her little brother’s safety. and show sam and her friendship! but also there’s ambiguity there. that maybe could be a cliffhanger for season 1--is astrid tricking sam, or does she really like him? bonus: it’s her that initiates their first kiss, preferably at the very end of the season instead of happening midway through, just before sam goes off to battle. though sam has a crush on astrid, she’s not his reason for not poofing; instead, he thinks of his friends and the innocent kids he’d be leaving behind to the mercy of caine and realizes that he has a responsibility he can’t shirk.

also...flashbacks!! i’d love it if we got flashbacks through each episode (with the focus being on one individual character per episode) of the characters’ family dynamics. would give the characters more depth and pathos right off the bat. maybe leave off on that for antagonists like drake and caine though. speaking of--show diana’s better qualities!!! show her fear of the rapidly escalating events happening at coates, show her tenuous grasp on caine, show the vulnerability behind the mask of glib snark. maybe she reveals this vulnerability when she’s alone. maybe show her trying to persuade caine not to string up andrew in order to observe the proof. show her looking on in horror at the kids’ cemented hands. little things like that can go a long way to humanize her. also, show the casual sexualization she’s subjected to by her peers at coates--maybe that could be part of the reason why she doesn’t leave immediately after caine does evil stuff. maybe she feels like she wants revenge for the things she suffered in the past from her classmates. it’s a misplaced sense for vengeance, but it’s still sympathetic. and diana can realize “oh, this was a huge mistake” the minute things get real. make her desire to be caine’s queen an extension of her trauma over her past powerlessness, subjected to the abuse of her mom’s boyfriends. don’t necessarily make her a wilting flower, keep her pettiness and meanness, but give her a little more humanity!

also--okay this is more of a self-indulgent thing but--i’d like more scenes between orc and astrid! just a few, just to flesh out their relationship a tiny bit in the first season so the coates scene* comes off as powerfully as possible. remember when orc was okay with drake potentially torturing astrid because he didn’t want to lose face in front of sam in the first book? because he was too prideful to admit he cared for her? show astrid reacting to that! show astrid using that to attempt to sway him to her and sam’s side! maybe there’s a moment where, in the scene where the kids see orc’s growing mutation, orc catches a glimpse of the bruise on astrid’s cheek from drake’s slap and feels visible regret. maybe astrid notices that and tries to subtly manipulate him over to the side of good, while still having genuine compassion for what’s happening to him mutation-wise. i just think their dynamic is so good and i’d love for astrid to utilize one of the few personal connections she had pre-fayz.

anyway, this is getting way too long, so i’ll cut it off here. sorry for the length! thank you very much for the ask! :)

*the coates scene in plague is one of those few scenes in the series that comes off as exactly as uncomfortable as mg intended, imo. like the implications probably should have carried over to orc’s arc a little more but still! i want it to be preserved in the tv show. it could be so good! the writers would have to tread lightly, but if they get it right, it could be phenomenal (in my obviously biased opinion lol).

[bisluthq]

Not to stay on this topic but I think I should add my feelings as well since I have been holding them in. Nat, we get it the Ashley Graham stunt was cringy and embarrassing and Kaydom’s version of Karlie isn’t true at all. But sometimes it gets uncomfortable because you sometimes will entertain the idea that Karlie and Taylor hooked up and may have had something messy and that Karlie has bottom energy then in the other breath say that Karlie has such aggressively straight girl vibes and say it in such a judgy way that I feel like I can almost see you rolling your eyes.I don’t think you even realize how that may come across to femmes who face erasure all the time even though you’re a femme yourself. Maybe it’s because of how you feel about Karlie. It’s like sometimes I would be ready to laugh along with you about how this girl is soo straight and then some of your points are things I also do and it’s like ohhh. I mean I want to laugh at straight girl stereotypes too. Some stereotypes can be fun & harmless like how you pointed out that article about bisexuals not sitting well in chairs - at least I think that was you- but the things you point out about Karlie don’t even sound like really widely held stereotypes or not any I’ve heard except for the movie night girl kiss. Then other takes are not funny for me because I’m a lesbian and find myself relating to certain things probably because I behave in a way that people might view as very girly girl. Then it seems like you think she couldn’t be some version of queer and also love Josh with her entire being as well and want to do everything to be with him and that feels problematic as well. I feel like if you knew me and all the stupid stuff I did just to be with my girlfriend you’d call me a golden retriever too. And maybe this rant is less about you and more about how I feel like somewhere along the line society seems to have decided that being a girly girl is uncool, annoying and demeaning. It’s like you’re not the right type of girl if you love pink, played with barbies till you were 12 and love love and definitely - you automatically belong to the dumb blonde category- and you are most definitely not the right type of lesbian or sapphic. No one takes you seriously in the community or anywhere else if you’re a certain type of femme. Even if you have a whole girlfriend. I still have family members who will gossip and have no shame in telling me to my face that they’re just waiting for the day I finish experimenting and laugh like we’re all in on the same joke. I could be out with my girlfriend at a bar and men will still try to flirt with me even after I point out that we’re a couple. I’ve been in queer spaces and felt like an alien and a complete outsider. You’re not feminist enough if you’re a girly girl who cares about appearing attractive. Heaven forbid you’re a girly girl and in love. I feel like I’m very much the type of girl that would get called a pick me girl. Hence why I hate the whole she’s such a pick me girl statements. I haven’t seen you saying it, this is just something I observe in general. For me, it’s like aren’t all types of women and individuals valid? I call myself a feminist but I feel like there are people out there who’d look at me and roll their eyes. And that’s for almost everything about me.

I hear you - and other anons on this - and I agree I wasn’t right.

Like you say to me it was mostly comedy, partly genuine annoyance at Karlie (which is just a personal thing), and a HUGE dose of “what the fuck were Kays on when they made up boyfriend Karlie!???!!!??”

But I hear that it hurt people and there’s a really good take by Bill Hader which I always apply to stuff like this. He said “I’m never interested in upsetting anybody” and like... idk that’s my rule on playing shit for laughs.

So to me it was funny specifically because this woman had this reputation of being Klossanova able to derobe women with a glance or whatever but like irl she was a sweet, kind, peppy, nerdy, energetic golden retriever (/affectionate).

What I didn’t think through tho was in laughing at what she actually was relative to what she’d been sold as to me - and to many others - I was making people who relate to her feel bad about themselves.

And the thing is there’s nothing wrong with relating to her.

And I shouldn’t have made people feel like there is.

Again, Karlie is most likely someone who identifies straight (whether she is or isn’t) based on how she has positioned herself publicly with relation to the community. She hasn’t been confusing like Taylor and her “our pride” shit - like Kar is very straightforwardly an ally.

However, many people anywhere from Kinsey 1 to 6 act like her.

And those people are queer enough and aren’t bad or embarrassing and shouldn’t be made to feel that way.

So I unreservedly apologize for hurting y’all.

And I promise to do better.

When I talk to Kar’s girly stereotypes it will be in a positive way, designed to make anyone - queer or straight - who shares those traits feel good about themselves.

Again, I’m sorry and I really appreciate everyone taking the time to share this stuff with me.

[telekinesiswrites]

Matthew Taylor Relationship Headcanons

You meet him at one of the college football games. You’re sitting in the stands, spectating, and he’s on the sidelines, waiting to be swapped in. It’s when he looks up into the crowd, he spots you. He doesn’t know why, but you drew his attention immediately. But after you gift him with a shy smile and hesitant wave, Matt knows he wants to meet you. 

So after the game, he finds you at the gates. Que the awkwardness as you and Matt attempt small talk and try to avoid eye contact. After a few minutes of stumbling over each other, Matt finally manages to ask you out.

Matt is a gentleman, through and through. He opens the door for you, pulls out your chair, thanks you for every little thing you do; he loves you with all his heart and wants to show you how much he cherishes you. 

He loves it when you wear anything related to the sports teams he plays for. You’re his #1 Fan!

Out of all the Until Dawn guys, Matt is the cleanest. He hates mess, disorganization, and he’s never understood the concept of “organized chaos.” He also likes to split up chores, like you cook and he does the dishes or you clean the toilet and bathtub and he cleans the sink, mirror, and sweeps and mops the bathroom floor. One, it lessens the burden of cleaning an entire room yourself, and two, it makes you and Matt feel like equals. It’s nice to know that you’ll never have to worry about cleaning up after this man.

Study dates are very common. Though he doesn’t like to admit it, Matt isn’t the smartest person and struggles in most of his classes, and knows that he needs decent grades in order to play sports. Scenery varies, depending on both your moods; sometimes you huddle up in the corner of a coffee shop, or a secluded table in the library, or maybe just in your dorm, dressed in your comfiest of clothes. Matt is always appreciative of your help, always making sure to thank you afterwards.

Matt can’t help but compare you to Emily, who he broke up with after the events at Blackwood. While Emily could be outwardly mean and condescending to him, a revelation Matt didn’t have until after he started dating you, you were always patient and kind to him, always so happy to see him and never cruel. You didn’t put him down for his poor grades, something that Emily always jabbed at, but instead you always helped him. And he didn’t hate any shopping trips you went on because you always involved him, asking his opinion on clothes and whatnot and sometimes finding things for him to try on and never mocking his choices. Anytime he was left to his thoughts and started comparing you and Emily, he would always smile knowing that he was in a much better, healthier relationship. 

If you wear his signature Letterman jacket, this boy will die of cuteness overload. He can’t handle seeing you in his jacket.

Communication is something that Matt has to work on. He’s a pushover and all his past girlfriends used this to their advantage; he would much rather let his partner have their way than have to deal with confrontation. Not you, though. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, but you always have to sit Matt down and talk out whatever problem you two have. After a couple successful conversations, Matt isn’t so opposed to the idea of bringing up any issues he has about the relationship, knowing that you’d rather find a solution than talk over him. 

Matthew absolutely loves massages. He works out a lot so he tends to get sore, especially if he pushes himself. Lay this boy down on the bed and rub all the knots out of his back and he’ll be putty in your hands. And...it might just lead to something a little more intimate.

If you start showing interest in his hobbies, Matt will be absolutely elated. Go to the gym with him and let him show you how to work out properly so that you don’t hurt yourself. Attend all his sports events so you can cheer him on. Shoot hoops with him down at the rec center on campus or go to the batting cage at the baseball diamond. Emily was always dismissive of his interests, so he’ll be so happy if you ask him questions about anything he’s interested in. And don’t worry, this is not a one-sided thing. Matt will support you in whatever you’re interested in as well. If you like to paint, he’ll take a painting class with you. If you like to write, he’ll ask so many questions about your stories. If you participate in a sport that he doesn’t, you bet that he’ll be out there on the field trying to learn the basics. Matt just loves spending time with you.

Matt is actually a decent cook. He’s a pro at meal prepping and reserves Sundays for cooking. As mentioned in a previous bullet point, Matt doesn’t like mess and is very organized, and this reflects in his meal prepping. The fridge is stocked full of healthy foods, with all the fruits and veggies cut up, all the meats seasoned well and cooked perfectly, and any condiments you need poured into little individual dipping containers. He has all your breakfasts and lunches neatly packed so you can grab them on the go. All your co-workers are in awe at how colorful and delicious your lunches are and you can’t help but brag that your boyfriend made them for you. It fills you with such pride when they all tell you Matt is a keeper.

Somewhere down the line, you and Matt bump into Emily, who Matt hasn’t talked to since Blackwood. At this point, you and Matt have been happily dating for almost a year, but yet, Matt hasn’t mentioned Blackwood to you, in hopes that he can just forget it and move on with his life. You both run into Emily at the grocery store and Matt knows that Emily is going to say something awful to you just by the way the woman looks you up and down in disgust.

“Jesus, Matt, you really downgraded, didn’t you?”

You’re honestly shocked and are speechless and Matt steps in between you too, holding up a hand to Emily. 

“Please, Em, don’t start anything.”

“What? Scared that they’re going to find out what a douche you really are? Are you going to leave them for dead too?”

You’re tugging on Matt’s sleeve. “Matt, what is she talking about?”

Emily smirks. “Wow, Matthew, keeping secrets? Figured you would be too cowardly to tell them all the shit you pulled back at Blackwood.”

Before Emily can continue, Matt pulls you away, ignoring Emily as she continues to taunt him. Both of you wander to one of the registers, bringing your shopping trip to an abrupt end. At this point, Matt doesn’t even care if you haven’t gotten everything on your list; he just wants to go home. Once you both get home, Matt doesn’t say anything, and just goes to the bedroom, shutting himself inside. You know not to push, knowing that Matt would just shut you out even more. You go about fixing dinner, constantly looking over your shoulder at the door of your shared bedroom, worried. 

“Matthew, dinner is ready!” 

No response.

You eat dinner alone, forcing yourself to eat, but eventually giving up since you don’t really have an appetite. You try to distract yourself by cleaning the dishes from dinner, on homework, on anything, but you find yourself pacing outside the bedroom door, internally debating on whether you should go in and confront Matt or let him come to you instead when he was ready. 

You decide on the former. Testing the doorknob and seeing that he never locked it, you push the door open, met with darkness. You feel your way towards the lamp that sits on your nightstand and flick it on, light flooding the room, and illuminating your boyfriend, who was curled up on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest and face buried in his arms. Kneeling beside him, you contemplated on how to start this conversation, before gently reaching out and touching his arm. 

“Matthew, please, talk to me.”

“You’ll hate me if I do,” he said, voice muffled.

“No, I won’t. Just please, speak to me. I don’t like it when you shut yourself out to me like this.”

Matt was quiet for a moment before lifting his head from his arms. That’s when he tells you everything: the prank he and his old friends played on Hannah, resulting in both her’s and Beth’s deaths; going back to Blackwood with Emily as his girlfriend and seeing her and Mike hugging through the telescope, causing him to be salty toward her for the rest of the night; rushing to the fire tower after Chris and Ashley told them about Josh getting killed by some psycho wandering around the mountain; the fire tower falling through the mines, trying his best to save Emily from falling, but only causing the tower to shift, resulting in her fall anyway; being grabbed by the Wendigo and only managing to escape because Emily had given him a flare gun she found at the tower; leading Jessica out of the mines and escaping with their lives. He poured his heart out, expressing his guilt in not trying hard enough to save Emily, remembering how scared he was that he had possibly caused her death.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell all of this to you sooner. I just...didn’t want you to think I was crazy or something and...I didn’t want you to think I was a horrible person. A failure because I couldn’t save Emily when that tower was falling.”

You’re quiet and the silence kills him, twisting his insides into a painful knot. He knew this was going to happen. He knew you would break up with him for being a failure, a horrible person, a-

“Matthew, there is no way in hell that I would ever think of you as a terrible person.”

Matt stares at you, stunned. “W-What?”

“You’re a good person, Matt. While I’m a little disappointed that you went along with that prank, you didn’t know what would happen to those two girls. If you had known, I know you wouldn’t have gone through with it. As for Emily, I know you tried your damnedest to save her. I didn’t believe her for a second when she said all that about you. Because I know you, Matthew, and I know you’ve got a big heart.”

Matt just looks at you, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. That’s when he grabs you, pulling you close, burying his face in your chest, letting the tears fall. You hold him close, running your fingers through his hair, rubbing soothing circles into his back. 

“Thank you.” He tightens his hold on you. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Matthew.”

[themangoyogurt]

Clementine: Chapter 4

It was a stretch, but a few long nights spread over cooling cups of coffee and far too many documents was all it took to square away Hanna Hut. You were now the legal owner of an LLC. To even say the words made you giddy. You were a business owner! It was equal parts terrifying and electrifying to know that your future was now truly in your own hands.

Just like that, you only had a short amount of time to get the doors open. It seemed an impossible feat, but having Kylo by your side gave you an abundance of confidence. He was quick to soothe the side of you that felt self-conscious for taking up so much of the man’s time. All it took was one look, and he’d silently give your shoulder a squeeze. A quiet reminder that it was his own choice to come along for the ride.

With all of the paperwork out of the way, it meant time for the “fun stuff”. Which was how you found yourself in Hell’s Kitchen on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. The summer air was stale and muggy in a typical New York City fashion. Still, that couldn’t damper your excitement as you explored a kitchen supply store with Kylo.

This wasn’t his place of expertise, but he was happy to tag along and watch you bounce from aisle to aisle. He loved getting lost in your world, listening to you gush about the different espresso machines, and how each brand differed.

Although, he did pipe up once in a while to gently remind you of a very strict budget he helped calculate the night before.

“Look at these portafilters. Oh my gosh, they’re gorgeous,” you cried out, fingers greedily reaching out for the shiny stainless steel handles. Kylo laughed and shook his head as he held out the red plastic basket on his arm. You hurried to fill it with a few accessories, eager to try everything out once the shop delivered your new espresso machine.

“How do you know so much about coffee?” Kylo asked. He wandered with you down another aisle, this one filled with gorgeous glassware of all shapes and sizes. You picked up a double walled glass cup and mused, “I used to work in a coffeeshop during college. We only ever used crappy beans since it was a college town, but I still loved everything about the job.”

You set the glass down and picked up another one - a pale pink ceramic mug. “I liked how coffee could perk people up. How it was such an integral part to their day. It was fun to see people gather in the shop, too. How it served as a backdrop to so many happy memories for people of all walks of life. I’d love for Hanna Hut to be a source of happiness for people.”

“That’s quite admirable of you,” he responded. Kylo then plucked the pink mug out of your hand and looked it over. “This one. I think it’s so you.”

Your scrunched your nose up at Kylo, secretly loving how much he towered over you. “What about that mug makes you think of me?”

He pretended to be deep in thought as he scratched his chin. “Hm. For starters, it’s small and cute.” Your cheeks pinked, and he chuckled in response. Throwing an arm around your shoulder he continued, “Come on. Let’s finish shopping, get this stuff shipped to the store, and then grab some lunch. How does Italian sound?”

You tilted you chin up to look at him and squealed, “Only if we can get tiramisu!”

Kylo shook his head, as the realization that he was so whipped for you set in.

Apparently “Italian” meant seats at an exclusive restaurant where the chef, himself, prepared your meal. He introduced himself as Pietro Fagiuolli, and ushered you directly to the kitchen, where a secluded spot was set up by the kitchen island. You realized that there was barely any space between yourself and Kylo, especially given how his knees knocked into yours.

He shot you playful smiles as your legs continued to rub and touch throughout the meal. When he finally felt you relax your knee into his inner thigh, Kylo felt a sudden swell of confidence. Surely all of your playful flirtation and gentle touches must mean something. You didn’t seem the type to flirt your way into getting someone to help you out.

It was now or never. He gently set his fork down with a quiet clink, and folded his hands together in his lap. You felt the air change, and put your own utensils down. Kylo took in a deep breath and murmured quietly enough so that nobody in the kitchen could hear your conversation.

“I don’t want to be too forward, and I don’t want you to think that your answer will affect whether or not I still help out with Hanna Hut...but...how would you feel about dating me?”

He hated how his voice cracked at the end. Despite having faced down some seriously intimidating individuals in court, he’d never done something as heart racing as seriously asking a woman out. Not like this, when he was already so invested from the get go.

You tilted your head and considered the man in front of you for a second before your lip twisted in a little smirk. “I thought that’s what we’re doing now,” you teased. You reached across the stainless steel tabletop and opened your hand up.

Kylo was quick to place a hand in yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Doesn’t hurt to check,” he muttered. Kylo was old school, but he knew better than to just assume everyone else had the same expectations. He spent the better part of his life in New York City, a place where people played fast and loose with feelings. Even if you didn’t seem the type to casually date, Kylo still wanted to make sure before investing more into the relationship.

Your eyes crinkled in amusement and happiness. “Only under one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“We’re exclusive,” you finished.

Kylo laughed, already feeling a million times lighter. Hearing that you wanted him, and only him, made the man’s day. “So I guess that would make you my girlfriend?”

You nodded and stood up on your toes to lean across the table. “Seal it with a kiss?”

He got up to meet you halfway, and your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his plush lips against your own. It was a chaste kiss, but one filled with promise of a future you could never have imagined.

His tongue swiped forward, and just as you were about to deepen the kiss, a throat cleared in the kitchen.

“Really, guys?” Pietro groaned, his voice laced with a thick Italian accent. “Let’s show some respect for my pasta.” His tone was teasing, and he had a wide smile on his face. The man rested a hip at the edge of the island and tossed a towel over his shoulder.

You pushed away from Kylo and shyly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Although it was clear that Pietro was giving Kylo some harmless ribbing, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. “Thank you for hosting us. The food is amazing,” you awkwardly sputtered.

“You really outdid yourself,” Kylo added, making a point to gesture at your empty plates. The chef chuckled and slapped a hand against Kylo’s back. “Anything for the man who kept me out of jail!”

He took notice of your shocked expression and laughed even louder. “No, nothing crazy! I was being mistaken for some sucker with mob ties. Apparently having a thick Italian accent is enough of a reason to arrest someone in this town.” Pietro rolled his eyes and gave Kylo a jab with his elbow and continued, “But this guy over here believed me. I was only a sous chef at the time, and this guy defended my case pro bono. Promised Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scary that if he kept me out of jail, he’d get free meals whenever he wanted!”

You smiled at how cute Kylo looked with shy and rosy cheeks. You asked, “By this amazing meal, I’m assuming that you won?”

Pietro tossed his arm around Kylo’s shouldered and cheered, “Hell, yes! I owe this guy my life.”

“Alright, alright. Did you come here with dessert or just to chat our ears off?” Kylo groused, clearly embarrassed from all of the praise. Pietro was unfazed though, and turned to shout some Italian over his shoulder. A young man immediately appeared balancing several plates on his hands and forearms.

There was a giant slice of tiramisu, clearly made from scratch. The cream was so fresh and fluffy, it looked like little puffs of clouds with the finest dusting of cocoa. There was also a bowl with generous servings of gelato in all sorts of colors. What excited you the most though, was a narrow rectangular plate.

Placed in a neat row upon the plate were the most beautiful and exquisitely decorated chocolates. They were like miniature pieces of art, each shaped like an iconic symbol of New York City. There was a yellow taxi cab, a skyscraper, a cute little stiletto, and an apple just to name a few. It looked like the colors were all hand painted for goodness sake!

“These are too pretty to eat,” you gushed. Despite your words, your fingers reached out to pick up a little newspaper shaped chocolate. There was even a tiny “NY Times” painted across the top.

Pietro’s chest puffed at your words, proud that you noticed and appreciated the details. “Go on and try it. There’s more where that came from,” he urged.

You took a little nibble and moaned, causing Kylo’s mind to wander to a place unsuitable for public consumption. It was an impossible task though, as you reached across the table and hand-fed the other half of the chocolate to your boyfriend.

He groaned, partially from the burst of chocolate and hazelnut, and partially from the feeling of your fingers gently brushing a stray crumb off the bottom of his lower lip. “These are good,” he muttered. He caught your eye and couldn’t help but share a mischievous smile.

“I’m still here,” Pietro grumbled. Before you could protest, he stuck a finger up and joked, “I’m Italian. I know what those lovey dovey eyes look like, and you two got it bad.”

Pietro signed and nudged Kylo. “How about I leave you two love birds alone before I vomit, and you tell your lady about the deal, eh?” He threw Kylo a pointed look before pressing a friendly kiss against your cheek and disappearing into the back of the kitchen.

You sat up and dug into the cake, mouth full of cream and coffee soaked cake as you asked, “What deal?”

Kylo smiled at the sight of you licking your fingers and answered, “Pietro’s willing to consign his premiere chocolate collection at your shop. Exclusively. It’ll be a great way to generate buzz and make some sales while you’re at it.”

“Consign?” Your nose wrinkled in confusion.

“It means that whatever you sell, you’ll split 50/50. If any product doesn’t get sold, he’ll take it back at no cost. It’s a way for businesses to wholesale a new product without risk.”

Lips still smacking, you wondered aloud, “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but why me? He’s on the shortlist to earning a Michelin Star!”

Kylo reached over and ran his hand along your arm. “I told him about your concept, and he loves it. He really wants to help your business take off.”

“He feels sorry for me,” you sighed. A little pout formed at your lips. On anyone else it would have looked petulant, but Kylo found the way your lips pressed together to be quite endearing.

“No. He really loves your concept and supporting young business owners. I would be lying if I said what he went through didn’t affect him, but he wouldn’t just help anyone out.”

“Okay,” you murmured, still feeling a little shocked. Kylo sensed your trepidation and immediately stood from his seat. He walked around the table and pulled you into a tight hug. Your face pressed against his chest, and you couldn’t help but sag into the embrace.

He ran his hands through your hair, and wondered when you were last held like this. It was so long ago a date didn’t surface.

“Have some confidence in yourself. You’re about to be a...uh...what is it that they call it online? A ‘boss bitch’?”

You snorted into this shirt, “Please don’t say that ever again. But I do appreciate the sentiment.”

“Only if you promise to be kinder to yourself,” he murmured, lifting your face up by the chin with the tip of his index finger.

“Deal.”

Kylo’s face softened, and he gave you a little kiss. As he held you and kissed positive affirmations into your temple, you couldn’t help but give a silent “thank you” to Poe’s stupid stereo system.

[stargazersastronomy]

Social Change & Protest Astrology

“I can't get it out of my mind how you were left to bleed Was it how you dressed? Or how you act? I can't believe how they could act so violently, without regret. Well, we will not forget”

-- ‘We are the Others‘ by Delain

I normally don’t make posts like this, posts that deal with violence or politics. These subjects are similar to religion and sexuality, etc. There are so many different perspectives that you can never know what backlash, if any, will happen because of your words. However, people George Floyd’s murder, the protests, everything has effected the world. I haven’t felt this affected by murders since Brian Deneke’s and Sophie Lancaster’s deaths. Like Deneke and Lancaster, I still hear Floyd’s pleas for  his life, for his mother, for mercy echoing in my mind. My imagination could never do his suffering justice; I keep imagining the pain Floyd suffered as his neck was crushed by Derek Chauvin’s knee.  I’m someone who believes that Hell is impermanent – and that humans’ depictions of Hell originate from our artists and poets than our holy books – but I hope Chauvin burns in whatever Hell he’s sent to. Even if that hell is life imprisonment.

Similar to Deneke and Lancaster, we’ve heard the same statements: that Floyd was killed for his differences. While that is partially correct, killed because he was different, shifts blame from the murderers to the victim. Statements like these imply that if Deneke hadn’t be Punk, Lancaster hadn’t been Goth, and Floyd hadn’t been Black, they would not have been killed. Yes, the fact that they were all minorities in some way is part of our discourse of it; their attackers – and society’s intolerance – of them was the cause of their deaths. Dustin, the jock, mowed Deneke down with his car. The five boys who pummels Lancaster and her boyfriend killed Lancaster. And it was Chauvin that suffocated Floyd to death. These seven would have gone after anyone different and weaker from them, they chose the easiest targets.

In each case the murders were unplanned, random, that the victims happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But with the violent acts that happened before then – Deneke and his friends beaten by the Jocks, there were beatings against others before Lancaster was killed, and racial deaths have only been increasing here in the States. Signs were there and without intervention of some kind, Floyd’s, Deneke’s, and Lancaster’s deaths were inevitable. No one knew when or to whom these tragedies would happen to, but something like this would.

Anyway, this has been a very long prelude to introduce my point to all this. When these things happen I like to do a horoscope on the event in order to understand it, aka electional/event astrology. Last time I looked up this chart I was reading an event horoscope about the Port Arthur Massacre, so I decided to try my hand at this type of astrology. Now, I’ll probably cast a horoscope for Sohpie Lancaster and Brian Deneke, but for know this chart will focus on George Floyd’s Death, its impact, and the Lafayette Square Protest earlier this week. Before I start this reading, just know I use the Whole Sign house system and not Placidus. Lastly, Floyd was a person and astrology can’t explain away everything, so I’m going to treat him with the dignity he deserves.

Whenever one sees horrific violence and mass uproars in astrology, Mars and Pluto are the prominent players in the horoscope. This isn’t surprising because Pluto is a higher octave of Mars (like Neptune is to Venus, and Uranus to Saturn) and they’re dignified in Aries and Scorpio. Mars is Ares, it is raw masculinity, sexuality, conquest, war, anger, passion. Pluto, aka Hades, Greek God of the Dead, is all that Mars is with one difference. Pluto bides its time waiting for the opportune moment unlike Mars that is impatient and impulsive. In these charts we expect Gemini to be one the dominant signs because it’s Gemini season, Sagittarius because that’s Floyd’s death ascendant (rising sign), and Scorpio because that the protest’s ascendant. However, I did not expect Hades Moon[*1] to be so important here. More on that later.

Gemini Sun (7/Descendant) squared Pisces Mars (4/IC)

Sun is the ego, who we are as an individual. Mars is our drive, its our fighting words. Harsh aspects like oppositions and squares are blessings in disguises because if one can work through the initial turbulence, this person is unstoppable. How this power is often abused. Floyd begs Chauvin for mercy but his words (Gemini/third house) are going unheard. Witnesses are telling Chauvin to stop but they’re ignored and Chauvin’s fellow coworkers are silent.

For now, I’ll give the other cops the benefit of the doubt. Bystanders tend to fall under three camps: one, the bystanders that side with the aggressor, two, the bystanders that sympathize with the victim but are too frightened to confront the bully. Three, perhaps the most insidious, the bystanders that are apathetic to both sides. No matter which camp they fall into they’re cowards and unfortunately the law doesn’t punish inaction.

Pisces is exalted in Venus (Aphrodite) and while it rather not be situated in Mars, Pisces realizes Mars (Ares) is the gender-flipped equivalent of Venus.  Pisces Mars is the seafarer, it is Captain Ishamal, Captain Nemo, the old man from The Old Man and the Sea. And Mars in conflict with the sun is causing a storm.  Instead of noble victory, Mars uses its strength to dominate. Look at the videos, Chauvin’s photo during the scene. His semi-slouched posture indicates nonchalance and with his hands stuffed in his pockets say that he has nothing to hide. How he eyes the spectators is that of confusing and superiority. They’re saying, “Yeah, I’m boring my knee into this innocent man. And? You guys can’t do anything.” He’s also forcing his will on Floyd. Aphrodite is definitely not happy being thrust into war.

Gemini Venus (7th House) squared Pisces Neptune (4th House)

I mentioned how the generational planets are the higher octaves of the primar planets. Venus is the Greek love Eros while Neptune is Agape, or universal love. Neptune is also illusion. American cops are often placed on pedestals and absolved of their actions, but Venus here is breaking the American people’s disillusions of that. Chauvin is abusing his authority murdering an innocent man in public, no one can ignore this power imbalance now.  The crowd that witnessed this atrocity, the millions more worldwide that saw this televised and online can’t erase this from their minds. We’re seeing that the Other (7th House) has no differences from us, that Floyd is not different from us. Pisces Neptune is communicating to us to show love and compassion to our fellow man. Later, in Washington DC Rahul Dubey offered his home to approximately 60 protesters overnight, so they’d remain safe from the police. When interviewed Dubey said what he did wasn’t a choice, it was the right thing to do.

Chauvin showed no kindness, and people are calling him out on this. None of the people in the crowd can do anything, all they can do is beg and shout from the sidelines to help Floyd. This didn’t help Floyd, and this is of little consolation because he died, but people cared enough to record the cops’ crime. They cared enough to demand the cops help Floyd. It feels inadequate at the time, it won’t resurrect him. At least he heard some kindness and concern in the voices of others.  

Cancer Moon (8th House) squared Taurus Uranus (6th House)

A Hades Moon is any moon connection to Pluto and/or the eighth house. Whenever the moon is connected to the generational planets – specifically Saturn and Pluto – there’s a war between feminine, nurturing energy and masculine, destroying energy. Saturn freezes emotions whether it’s trined or opposed the Moon. Pluto when aspected to the moon gives the moon psychic, explosive energy. Moon is dignified in Cancer which gives it added strength, however, it’s in the eighth house of death weakening it. “From tomb of the womb, to womb of the tomb.” (Hero of a Thousand Faces) Women give life and we live with the knowledge that life will be taken away. With Floyd’s last breaths he says that he “can’t breathe” and calls out “mama.” How many heartstrings were tugged at? How many mothers, girlfriends, daughters, embraced their children and significant others when they heard this?

Taurus is Eve from the Garden of Eden. Taurus craves stability and sensuality which is why it is fallen in Uranus. Uranus uproots Taurus’ stability to initiate change but note where Uranus; it’s in the house of work and health (6th house). Floyd’s life was taken by men who swore oaths to serve and protect. Chauvin’s coworkers should have done their duty (Virgo/6th house) and protected Floyd from one of their own. Instead they lazily stand aside and let a man die. They ignore his health when Floyd informed them earlier that he was claustrophobic.

Yet the civilians around them did their duty. They videotaped these cops so they’d be held accountable and couldn’t lie about their actions. Women and men called out to the cops demanding the Chauvin get off of Floyd and for the others to call an ambulance. Granted, Floyd still died. His daughters and wife weren’t there to hold his hand in his final moments. He was denied a good death, a death where he’s an old man surrounded by family who loves him. He’ll never see his daughters, graduate, marry, and bear children of their own. The only solace is that his memory has become immortal, no one will forget him now. I doubt he wanted to be a symbol in death, but now we can ensure that his death isn’t in vain. We can make sure we can bring change to the States. We can make sure that these cops are forced to take responsibility for their crimes. That’s our duty in remembrance to Floyd.

“One day we won't slay our brothers One day we won't hate each other One day we'll help one another But that day is not today”

-- ‘The Pallbearer Walks Alone’, The Dark Element

Lafayette Square Protests

For the most part the placements of the Lafayette Square Protests stay the same as Floyd’s death horoscope. The differences are:

Scorpio Ascendant, meaning Mars & Pluto rule the chart

Scorpio Moon (first house/ascendant)

Cancer Mercury (Eighth House)

Mercury trined Uranus

and Moon trined Saturn

Ultimately, the astrology placements I discussed earlier apply here. But for the protests I just want to focus on the 9th House and 10th House/Midheaven.

Cancer Ninth House & Leo Midheaven

Each country has its own natal chart, for the States, this nation was founded during Cancer season. Many people consider America to be their motherland (Cancer), even people who emigrate here. Personally, I think the States have 2 main lessons to learn: One not to be the savior and think itself the hero of other countries, and two, learn that how it’s governed affects the world (ninth house). In my opening paragraphs I mentioned that Sophie and Brian’s deaths impacted the world as does George’s. That’s exactly what happened. As a nation we have daily protests since Floyd’s death. We’re using emotionally charged language to to force Trump, our legislators, police officials for equal rights for black minorities. Saturn is in Aquarius – and we’re about to enter Pluto in Aquarius in the next few years – we’re finally heeding Saturn’s lesson. That everyone should be treated the same, that we must collaborate to enact change.

Whenever there are empty houses, that house is still important but the lessons and symbols that house represents aren’t important at the moment. Trump used his authority, military, police loyal to him to force them out of the square. Why? For a photo-op. Leo long to be center stage and calling attention to itself; the midheaven makes and ideal home for Leo. But this empty house shows Trump’s failure here. It shows no one will allow him to dominate them anymore. I’m not saying astrology can explain all of Trump’s behaviour, but his incessant need for admiration and attention backfired. Now, I never expected much from him, but if he had the ability to think through his actions and consider anothers’ perspective, I would have tolerated him. (The 2020 elections will not be kind to him.) More importantly Floyd’s death and the proceeding protests have effected the world. And if we as American citizens don’t change, the entire world will be affected. (Pluto and Uranus). The United  States are considered a superpower with Russia and China close behind as world powers. I’m not psychic nor have a crystal ball, but how this nation handles these conflicts will make or break 7 billion + people in this world. I didn’t intend for this astrology post to sound political. I just wanted to explain this through astrology.  

“There will come a day not so far away When the hunter becomes the prey (and you will pay).

Its a hellish inferno This is war eternal.”

-- ‘War Eternal‘, Arch Enemy

[itsclydebitches]

Why do you think it is people can't accept or view woman as abusive? Whether it's mothers, wifes, girlfriends, or just friends? Is it because men are usually the abusers in media and therefore accepted as the abusers in real life always? Do people out there really not think woman can be both physically or emotionally abusive to men in their lives just as men can be?

As with all of these topics there’s no one reason why such thinking comes about, but rather a complicated intersection of ideas, teachings, assumptions, personal experience, culture, etc. Part of it is that statistically men (in the US and UK anyway) are more likely to be the abuser and the media does reflect that, so some people tend to conflate “usually” with “always.” Even though those are obviously two distinct situations. Which is how you get antagonistic responses to those who advocate for men who suffer from abuse. Some see it as a means of drawing attention away from the ‘real’ problem of women victims, rather than acknowledging that both things exist simultaneously: a predominance of one gender being victims and the other gender facing a unique hurdle because of that predominance. When we teach - overtly or implicitly - that only women can be abused, we set up a scenario where men must first prove that what they’ve suffered can and does exist at all, let alone that they as an individual suffer from it. We see this with rape as well. Women must navigate a world that acknowledges that they can be raped, but tends to deny that it happened to her (she was asking for it, she should be grateful, etc.) Men, meanwhile, often hear that they simply can’t be raped, full stop. Because that’s something that only happens to women, because men always want sex, because a man could have put a stop to it, etc. And if this seems at all confusing, contradictory, complicated, and other difficult ‘c’ words, it’s because it is. Different genders who experience abuse simultaneously have commonalities that should inspire solidarity among the groups as well as individual circumstances that have to be taken into account. There is no one size fits all explanation here, which is precisely why intersectionality exists. 

Thinking about those individual factors though, gender norms absolutely come into play and feed those broader ideas about who can and cannot be abused. To put it simply, the concept of (toxic) masculinity does not provide room for men to be victims of abuse via women, simply because they are supposed to be inherently stronger and thus protected from assault. I experienced a perfect example of this bias while discussing Caroline Flack’s assault arrest. To be clear, we had almost no details about the case and were speaking very generally about abuse as a whole, rather than what actually happened between her and her boyfriend. This was also prior to her suicide, so take this as a conversation pretty much entirely removed from her specific situation. Basically though, the conversation revolved around the utter disbelief that a girlfriend could assault - let alone consistently abuse - a boyfriend. This person was grudgingly accepting of emotional abuse, but physical was off the table. After all, he’s a big strong guy and she’s so tiny. You’re telling me he can’t catch her arm when she goes to hit him? Or just hit her back? When I began to point out the problems in this thinking, the lack of understanding as to how abusers work, and begin to introduce the concept of victim blaming, they responded with, “I’m not blaming the victim, I’m blaming his inability to defend himself!” Which is a response that made me stare into an invisible camera like I was on The Office. Frustration aside, this conversation does a decent job of demonstrating the biases at work here: 1. Men are pretty much immune to abuse because abuse is almost entirely physical. 2. That immunity stems from clear-cut ideas about how man and women develop: he will be big and strong while she will be tiny and weak. 3. Abuse is not a complicated form of conditioning but a one time thing that anyone with the correct tools (strength) can stand up against: just stop her from hitting you. 4. If you somehow fail to stop her you can (and will instinctively want) to get revenge by hitting her back. That will demonstrate dominance and put an end to things. Problem solved. Obviously there is a lot to unpack there and that’s coming from a liberal, progressive, otherwise empathetic person. This kind of thinking runs deep. 

I want to emphasize that people get degrees in this, write books, spend their whole lives studying and working through such a nuanced subject... so a blog post response does not a perfect answer make lol. Nor does a BBC vid with a clickbait-y title, but experiments like this - simple as they are - can help to demonstrate that thinking: 

“My first thought was... he looked a bit soft... he looked a bit soft letting her hit him like that... I wouldn’t let a girl hit me.” 

“I think the man must have done something to the woman” 

There’s such a pervasive idea that men, as men, are the dominant gender that any evidence of abuse is automatically reframed as a) something he secretly enjoys, b) something he brought on himself, or c) proof that he’s not a “real” man and is defective for suffering from this. It’s a view that is perpetuated in fandom as well as real life. When Salem kills Ozpin it means he obviously did something to deserve it (trying to escape with the kids) because only guilty men suffer like that. When Yennefer takes control of or invades Geralt’s mind it means he secretly liked it because only weak men would stick around to suffer through something they were uncomfortable with - and Geralt is the opposite of weak. Then these stories - as stories written by an author who controls all events, responses, and outcomes - further paint these assumptions as correct: Ozpin is condemned as a horrible person (see, he deserved it!) and Geralt’s true love is shown to be Yennefer (see, he secretly doesn’t mind!) because these are characters who adhere to the whims of fallible authors. That doesn’t represent reality, but it can help perpetuate our perception of it. The author who fails to acknowledge a man’s abuse that they’ve written is no different from an author who fails to acknowledge a woman’s abuse that they’ve written. How the audience responds to those relationships, however, is very different. We’ve reached a point now where we can say stuff like, “Just because fictional Anastasia Steel has been written to think the way Christian Gray treats her is sexy and healthy doesn’t mean it is,” but we often fail to apply that same fiction/reality distinction for men. Instead, women abusers of all varieties - from genocidal Salem to “just” insults/threat of magical retribution Yennefer - are painted as badass or secret victims because the alternative would be acknowledging that men have the capability to be victims at all. Especially powerful men who (supposedly) have every means of defending themselves. 

As one woman in the video puts it, “the stereotype that women have less power than a man” is ingrained in our culture and it hurts men and genders not on the binary as well as women. It’s just that the damage to women is the most obvious and, as said, at times much more common. But that doesn’t mean these other impacts don’t exist. This is why feminism is inclusive and anyone who tells you it’s only for women hasn’t done much research. There’s a difference between people who may use such situations as a means of erasing all the shit women have to deal with (Men’s Rights™) and those who acknowledge that the limitations put on women and the abuse they suffer has the added concern of negatively impacting those around them. They’re baises that don’t help anyone.