#none of which i can articulate well

[thelordofshrimp]

i love the autism creature as much as the next guy but i do wonder how many people's internal biases re: neurodivergence would be revealed if they were asked to make an OCD or bipolar creature

[cy-cyborg]

So, there's a lot I want to say about the paralypics, but every time I try I just... can't articulate what I want to say without it turning into a monster of a post that puts my writing advice posts to shame lol. This includes in response to the anonymous asks I got on the topic btw. So I'm going to try and summarise my thoughts here.

As someone who was working towards the Rio paralympics - who was basically one of the people they were actively training to be the next paralympians and who got to go if their choice first athletes had to drop out, the Olympics and paralympics are a... touchy subject for me. I loved playing. I loved my sport. I loved the people I played with. I loved the people I played against. But the way the public and people in power treats disabled athletes sucks. It Really really sucks. and it hurts to talk about.

The vast, vast majority of us aren't paid. We are expected to train at the same intensity as the Olympians with none of the breaks and none of the support to do so, resulting in injuries that are disabling in and of themselves, while juggling normal jobs. many of the paralympians are also in school or at university as well. both schools and jobs see these elite athletes as dedicated hobbiests at best.

I had a friend who were fired from their job because they were denied time off to compete at the paralypics and well, if i had to choose between the paralympics or stay at a shit job paying minimum wage, I know which one I'd pick, and so she didnt have a job when she came back. I have friends who are still in the closet because their sponsors would drop them if they came out as gay, who ended years-long relationships to keep the funding that allowed them and their teams to compete - funding that just covered the costs of travel by the way. They never saw a cent of it themselves, but it was the difference between us having to pay $50 each for our plane tickets and accommodation and having to pay $2,000Aud + for every away game. I have friends who were supposed to go to Tokeyo but were kicked off the teams weeks before the games because of a rule change that decided they weren't disabled enough anymore, wasting years of work with absolutely no warning. They weren't even given the decency of an appology from the people who made the call. Several went through terrifying mental health spirals over it. It was their life's work, gone. I saw so many friends just give up because their disabilities were "too hard to classify" into the International Paralympic Commity's boxes and who were made to feel they weren't welcome by the system spouting off about its diversity and inclusion and empowerment of disabled people.

And then with all that, the best we can hope for is for the social media teams to turn us into a joke for ableds to laugh at or into inspiration porn to make them feel good about themselves - because at least theyre not us. Because obviously, there are no other options in how to show us/sarcasm.

My phone doesn't even have "paralympics" as a recognised word. I have a Samsung. The company that is currently at the paralympics using them as a marketing opertunity. We aren't even recognised as a word in the phones made by the company that is currently using the paralympics as a marketing opportunity. The phones they're giving the athletes won't even recognise the name of the event that they got it at. If I've spelt it wrong, it's because it autocorrects it every time I try to spell it right, and im dyslexic and can't see the difference until I stare at it for a minute or so.

I just... this isn't even scratching the surface of my thoughts. But I wanted to say at least some of it. It will be the last I'm going to talk about it, at least until the event is over.

[vettelsvee]

PREGNANCY JOURNEY | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

rbr sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader | part 1 here

summary: a little bit of your pregnancy journey with seb

word count: 2809

warnings: none of it! just seb and reader being cute (at least that's what i think sjsj). settled on 2012 season

a/n: I love dad!seb bye, pls send me requests bc he's literally the seb i love to write the most about

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Yours and Seb's families

It had only been two weeks since Sebastian and you had discovered you were going to be parents in that room in Hungary, and you wanted to start sharing the news with your family.

After much deliberation on how you could do it in such a special way, you decided to organize an intimate dinner at the house they shared in Switzerland.

As you enjoyed the delicious dishes you prepared yourself with the useless help of your boyfriend, nerves filled you both as you prepared to share the news at the end of the dinner. So, when desserts arrived at the table and you enjoyed them while chatting animatedly about trivial matters, Vettel gently took your hand under the table. With a glance, you knew it was time to tell your parents what you had been hiding.

You took your glass of wine, from which you hadn't been drinking, and stood up, causing the attentive gazes of the three present to focus on what you were about to say:

"Mom, Dad. Heike, Norbert," you began. "Today you're not here just because I'm showing off my ridiculous cooking skills, but for a more special reason."

Confusion arose among the older couples, who exchanged confused looks with each other.

You began to get emotional, finding it impossible to articulate your words. Therefore, Seb took over for you, continuing with the improvised speech:

"I know it might not be the right time," the younger German expressed, taking your hand, "but you're going to be grandparents."

"Wait… What do you mean, Sebastian?" your mum asked curiously, doubting what her son-in-law just told them.

"That's right, son," Norbert agreed with your mum. "What are you trying to tell us?"

"We're going to be parents," you whispered, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm pregnant."

As soon as your mum heard from your own mouth that you were expecting a child, she rushed to hug you tightly, immediately joined by Vettel's mother, causing all three women to have teary eyes. Norbert immediately ran to hug his son, shouting in excitement as he did so, and your dad, on the other hand, was in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Wait a moment, Y/N," Michael commented, rising and positioning himself next to his son-in-law. "Are you saying that you've been accompanying Seb all season while pregnant, and on top of that, you've kept it from me?"

You started laughing at your dad’s comment. Sebastian, on the other hand, began to feel fear for the first time in his life towards the man who initially became his idol and, over time, not only his friend and mentor, but also his father-in-law.

"Dad, no!" you denied. "I haven't been pregnant all this time. I'm currently about three weeks along, and we found out as soon as we arrived in Hungary because I was nauseous and dizzy the whole trip," you explained.

"I'm sorry if this caught you off guard," your boyfriend apologized, especially to Michael. "It’s not like we haven't been hiding the pregnancy," the young man declared, "but we needed time to process it and make sure it wasn't a false alarm."

Schumacher sighed in relief and wrapped his arm around his wife. Heike hugged her husband, who still couldn't believe he was going to be a grandfather for the first time.

"Yeah, okay…" your dad finally replied. "I'm glad to know that my eldest daughter hasn't been taking unnecessary risks and that, furthermore, you've been celebrating Seb's victories properly."

The mention of this made Sebastian wish he could disappear at that moment just like you.

"Michael, don't say that to them!" your mum exclaimed, hitting her husband's arm. "I still can't believe we're going to be grandparents. It's wonderful! Congratulations, guys!"

Once you exchanged hugs and congratulations, the quartet returned to the table to finish enjoying dinner. The truth was that your parents were concerned about your condition, but for different reasons: on one hand, Michael knew how stressful Formula 1 could be day in and day out, and he didn't want his eldest daughter to suffer accompanying Sebastian, so he would have to have a serious talk with you. Corinna, on the other hand, knew they still had to break the news to Gina and Mick, who would be aunt and uncle in about nine months. As for the Vettels, there was nothing to comment on or exceed: in a few months, the family would grow even more, and the excitement of having the little one in their arms was overwhelming them at that moment.

The former decided to stay silent for the moment, pondering when he could have a chance to talk to you alone. Corinna, however, decided to ask you about what how would you break the news to your siblings:

"Y/N, dear," she immediately captured your attention despite being deeply engrossed in a conversation with your father about Seb's performance that season. "Don’t you want to share the news with your siblings? I think they would like to know that you're pregnant, they would be quite happy..."

"Yes, of course..."

"For now, we would like to enjoy this stage of the pregnancy privately," Vettel interrupted you, "although that doesn't mean we won't tell them. For heaven's sake, Corinna, my siblings don't know anything yet either!"

The woman glanced at her husband, who shot her a look to calm down. Indeed, both families continued to celebrate the new life Seb and you had created and, in due time, would reveal to the rest of their loved ones and possibly the whole world.

Mick and Gina

You couldn't keep the secret any longer. It had only been a couple of days since your parents and in-laws found out you were going to be parents. The same went for Seb's siblings, whom you finally called on the phone because they couldn't come to Switzerland at the moment.

Now it was time for Gina and Mick to find out they were going to be aunt and uncle at fifteen and thirteen years old.

Summer vacation was coming to an end for both teenagers and the eldest Schumacher. The kids had to go back to school, while you would be traveling the world again with you father and you boyfriend in early September.

For that reason, and because you were really excited to see her siblings' reaction, you decided to tell them that afternoon they would go to the mall.

"Guys," you said as you ate your bowl of cereal, "we're going to the mall today. I want us to spend some time together and, well..." you dropped a hint, trying to be mysterious. "I have some news to share, actually."

Gina's eyes widened in surprise. Mick kept his gaze fixed on his buttered toast with jam, pretending not to hear although he was actually really excited.

"Of course, Y/N!" Gina exclaimed excitedly. "I can't wait to buy some new clothes, especially to hear what you have to tell us."

"Exactly that," replied the youngest brother, mouth full. "You're acting very suspiciously, as if you've killed someone. Have you killed someone?"

Gina flicked Mick on the head, who immediately protested, sparking an argument. You simply cleared away your breakfast dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, leaving the kitchen seconds later, not believing that those arguing over a trivial matter would later discover they were going to be uncles.

Once at the mall, the three of you strolled through the aisles, looking for stores of interest and, especially, trying to blend in with the crowd, surprisingly succeeding.

The truth was that days earlier, you and Sebastian had agreed that to break the news to the kids, they would invite them to dinner at their favorite restaurant. However, to avoid raising suspicion, you would say that Seb couldn't make it because he had scheduled a meeting with Red Bull to discuss a few strategy matters. This way, you thought, the kids would be even more surprised.

As the afternoon wore on, your nerves, along with bags of clothes for the kids, and a few indulgences for themselves, grew.

"Y/N, is Seb coming with us?" Mick asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Oh, no, I forgot to tell you! Seb mentioned he had a Skype call or something with Horner and Red Bull about strategy, so he can't make it."

You hated lying to your siblings, especially about Vettel-related matters, particularly to the youngest. They had a very good relationship and sometimes seemed more like siblings than the three Schumacher kids together.

"I know you were excited to see him," you continued explaining, "but I'm sure in a couple of days, or even tomorrow, I can tell him to come over."

"Exactly, Mick," Gina chimed in, "let's enjoy an afternoon with siblings, there will be plenty of time for you to see your brother-in-law!"

After a while of strolling, you finally decided to take your siblings to the restaurant they held in such high regard. As soon as you entered, you spotted the Red Bull driver sitting at a table checking emails on his phone.

Sebastian looked up and found a preteen Mick Schumacher running towards him, receiving a hug the moment he reached him.

"What are you doing here, Seb?!" Mick exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. "We thought you had a meeting with your team!"

Sebastian tousled the boy's hair and stood up to greet both Gina and you, who were giving him knowing glances at what was about to unfold.

"I guess these past few months I've become quite the expert in lies," you said. "And you're not here for just any reason."

Mick and Gina exchanged glances, not fully believing what their older sister was telling them.

"Indeed," Vettel continued, "before we order anything, we'd like to tell you that, around March next year, we'll be adding one more member to the family."

"You're going to be aunt and uncle, guys."

Both of them stood there speechless, trying to process what they had just heard.

"Is this for real, sister?!" Mick whispered cautiously, aware that you were public figures and attention would be on them at that moment. "We're going to have a nephew, Gina!" he turned to his younger sister, who was still in disbelief.

"This is incredible, guys!" Gina exclaimed. "I can't wait for March next year now... And I thought the best thing that could happen to me was going to see One Direction that month!"

You and Sebastian exchanged a knowing glance, realizing that the joy the younger ones were feeling at that moment was even greater than they had initially expected.

"We're so happy that you're part of this beautiful journey ahead," Seb explained, giving them both a hug. "I'm sure, and I know your sister and your parents are too, that you're going to be amazing aunt and uncle. The baby is so lucky to have a family like yours."

You wiped away tears. You hated getting emotional over the slightest thing, but at the same time, you were grateful to be surrounded by so much positivity and support from the early stages of her pregnancy.

"That's for sure, Seb," Mick replied jokingly. "But you have to understand that I'm going to be the funny uncle, and most importantly, his favorite."

The dinner continued with laughter, anecdotes from the teenagers that Seb and you had missed because of the Grand Prix races and, especially, future plans they would make when little Vettel-Schumacher decided to make his way into the world.

Mark Webber

After a month-long break, 2012 Formula 1 season was finally back in Belgium.

You, despite being about three, almost four, months pregnant, decided to continue accompanying you boyfriend for the remaining nine races.

Friday, before free practice sessions began, you were in Seb’s room at the Red Bull Racing hospitality. The German held an instant camera in his hands intending to take a few pictures of you, something that had become routine to document your pregnancy. You, reclined on the sofa in the space, simply caressed your increasingly prominent belly.

The flash of the camera snapped you out of your trance, immediately feeling embarrassed.

"Seb, I've told you a thousand times I don't like you taking pictures of me when I'm not ready," you commented, feeling somewhat uneasy.

Sebastian couldn't care less.

"You're perfect, Y/N Schumacher," Sebastian replied, taking another snapshot of you. "Come on, stand up for a moment and pose with our son for your future husband. You don't have to worry about looking good or not, you're doing enough work creating a life in your belly."

You agreed to your boyfriend's proposal, excited enough to hug your belly and shed a few tears.

Hormones were acting like crazy on you, and Sebastian Vettel might too if he kept being so good to you.

The blonde raised his camera again and once more took a picture of the scene in front of him, highlighting your smile above all.

As the photo was revealed and Sebastian, sitting on the floor, was admiring it, the door to the room opened, revealing a somewhat angry and surprised Mark Webber.

"Well, well…" the man exclaimed. "What do we have here?"

Sebastian and you exchanged looks, a mix of excitement and nervousness. No one beyond your families knew you were expecting a baby, and with the way the Australian was acting, you knew that would soon change.

"What you have here is the future best mother in the world, Webber," Sebastian explained, gesturing from top to bottom at you and then touching your belly once he stood up.

"That's incredible, guys! I'm really happy for you!" Mark approached you and hugged you, genuinely pleased with the news you had just revealed and especially by the trust you had in him to do so.

"Well, it seems Horner will be pleased when you tell him the news," Seb's teammate continued, "because I'm sure he'll want to sign the little one as soon as he's old enough."

"Of course, Mark," Sebastian replied. "Not every day you create offspring with both Schumacher and Vettel blood."

"The royalty of Formula 1, if I may say," Michael Schumacher interjected, entering the Red Bull garage despite not being part of the team. "And now, if you don't mind, I'd like to see how my daughter and my grandchild are doing."

You asnwered with a small ironic laugh at her father's remark, who was mistaken at that moment to think that Charlotte Vettel-Schumacher would be a boy.

Kimi Räikkönen

The penultimate race of the 2012 season finally arrived, and you and Sebastian had finally revealed to the world that you were going to be parents. Although there were mixed reactions and comments, the majority of people who discovered that the eldest daughter of Michael Schumacher and the two-time world champion were going to have a child were quite pleased.

Both of you were in the paddock, arriving a bit later than usual. 

"Vettel, hey," Kimi called out as soon as he saw you two. "I heard rumors that you have a new passenger in your very own car. Is that true?"

You burst into laughter at Räikkönen's irony, who maintained a cool demeanor.

"Yes, Kimi, it's true," Seb replied, still chuckling. "The baby is due in March, so just a few months to go."

You nodded in agreement with your boyfriend's statement.

"So, there will be a new fan running around the paddock soon..." Räikkönen commented. "Make sure he doesn't miss the races, Y/N."

"Of course, no need to worry about it..."

"But, hey," Kimi interrupted you, "don't let him stay up all night watching replays of my victories, okay? He's needs some rest too."

Sebastian was bewildered. However, you were laughing even harder at Kimi's antics.

"Don't worry, mate," Vettel replied, "I assure you I'll train her in such a way that she'll be taking you on track before she's even ten."

"Yeah, right, whatever you say" the Finn said ironically. "Just make sure that when she decides to enter the world, you invite me to her big welcome party."

You nodded, playing along with the Lotus driver.

"It's surreal that you've won another victory, Vettel," Kimi continued. "And remember: invite me to the party. I want to welcome the little one with alcohol, lots of alcohol."

Kimi lowered his head in farewell and continued on his way to his garage, letting you both get on with your day.

You and Sebastian knew Kimi well enough to understand that most of his comments were sarcastic, but within the sarcasm, there was genuine happiness for them.

Who would have thought that years later, Charlotte Vettel-Schumacher would become the apple of her godfather, Kimi Räikkönen's, eye, every time she visited the paddock with her mother.

[ddejavvu]

you’re probably sick of animagus reader fics but if you’re up for it i was wondering whether you were in the mood for some remus x fem reader?

maybe r is a dormouse or smth and just practically stays tucked inside rem’s sweaters or the inside pockets of his robes/blazer. r possibly falls out his sweater is a really crowded corridor (can’t change back) and rem panics cause he doesn’t fancy his girl being flattened <3

You make a mental note, while fleeing the shadows of impending doom that cascade onto the chilled stone floor around you, that you need to make sure Remus never buys another pair of pants with such shallow pockets. You typically cling to the inside of his sweater, but he's bundled up a little too warm for your taste today, and you'd tucked yourself into the linty confines of his corduroys instead.

It had all been going well, until someone had bumped rather aggressively into his thigh, the one that you were pressed worriedly against, and you'd darted to your left to escape the pain. Unfortunately, left was the direction of the pocket's opening, and the fall to the stone tile beneath you had been a monumental one for your small size.

Thankfully, you hadn't splattered against the tile, but you're running for your life now, and you seem to be swimming upstream no matter which direction you turn. There's always feet working against you, feet close to trampling your tail, feet threatening to squash your lungs, and you yearn for the solace of Remus's plush pocket once more.

Remus only gets a few steps away from the spot where you'd tumbled unceremoniously to the ground before he reaches his hand into his pocket, intent on scooping you out and discreetly moving you to his sweater. But there's nothing in his pockets save for a button that had fallen off of the inside of his book bag, and panic seizes his chest in its heavy, unforgiving claws.

"Uh-" He flounders, steps hesitantly stuttering over the floor as the ebb and flow of students around him becomes suffocating. Now, all of a sudden, he's not a part of the crowd, he's what they're fighting against, and he pats down his other pockets in case you'd just moved addresses.

You haven't.

Dropping to his knees is rather difficult amidst a stampede, and it's not only his weary joints that ache, but his hands as disgruntled students hoof over them. He ignores the way his pinky smarts, twinging pink with a pained flush beneath the toe of a third-year, and ducks his head to the ground to see if he can spot you scampering amongst the students.

There's movement all around him, but none if it is your size. Black and red and green and blue and yellow blur through his vision as students of all houses flood the halls, and each second that he doesn't find you alive and well worries at his heart with panic's mangled claws. He thinks he sees you to his left, but- oh, that's a cat, and that's worse, so he ducks even further to the ground, and redoubles his effots.

Thankfully, you've noticed the deviated path the students are now taking, annoyed grumbles about the idiot stooped in the hallway. That's your idiot, you think, and you scamper as fast as your tiny legs allow to meet Remus where he knees.

He sees you coming, his pretty eyes flood with a relief so palpable you can feel it in your own chest, and just before you can scurry into his outstretched hand, you feel something heavy land on your tail and trap you in your place. You feel a puff of breath against your back, and the snare of cat's claws against the meat of your tail, but before the beast can lean down and devour you, Remus lunges for your body, cupping his hand over your trembling form and swatting the animal away.

"Absolutely not, thank you." Remus snaps at the cat, and a second-year gives him a rather apprehensive stare as she hurries around him, "Darling, are you okay?"

You're not very articulate in mouse form, but you manage a thankful squeak, one that Remus smiles fondly at while straightening up.

The cat doesn't look very happy with him, but Remus isn't afraid of a few more scratches on his arm, and you nestle securely into his palm when he straightens, limbs limp with confident exhaustion, that he'd let the cat claw open each one of his scars ten times before he ever let it get a shot at you.

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

I don’t know if this is going to help or not but I want to try and explain myself more clearly because I think I did a poor job before which is on me

- Lesbians can acknowledge and appreciate a man is aesthetically appealing without wanting to sleep with him. Those two things aren’t related

- Lesbians can have favourite male characters and actors and singers etc

- Lesbians can have experiences with men due to confusion, internalised homophobia , trauma etc , none of that takes away from her lesbianism

- But I don’t believe lesbians can actively DESIRE and WANT and CRAVE having sex with men and be attracted to them in that way. Talking about enjoying a male actor or finding him aesthetic does not equal and is not the same as talking about wanting to have sex with him. Talking about him being handsome is whatever. Talking about how much you desire sex with him is something that is not in line with the definition of what a lesbian is.

I hope I was able to explain my point more clearly and I sincerely apologise for badly phrasing it before and not articulating my point well

[northstarscowboyhat]

We know how the justice family, Martlet, and Dalv are doing, but how is AXIS MODEL 014 and the Steamworks in general holding up? I headcanon that Axis repaired most of the Steamworks; fixing the malfunctioning robots, building Guardener some legs, and, kinda, putting Steamworks into a functional state. Though Axis repairing Steamworks to that extent may be a stretch.

If, ever, Clover’s identity is leaked to the Royal Guard, I imagine the, supposedly, dilapidated and rusting Steamworks would be a perfect hiding spot. Imagine the gang’s reaction to seeing the Steamworks almost back in its prime. What if the Royal Guard try to grab Clover while he is hiding in the Steamworks, and Axis and the robots fight off a Royal Guard invasion? Imagine a fight between Axis and Undyne!

I'll admit a lot of my Steamworks thoughts are hard to articulate because they require backgrounds which I am not fond of LOL. Axis does manage to fix up the Steamworks to a more presentable and habitable place! He assumes a proper leadership role and fixes up the dangerous parts, as well as learns to repair his fellow robots!

Ceroba visits him on occasion to see how he does, and gives him access to Chujin's old research and work so Axis can better learn how to care for the robots in the Steamworks. Other than Ceroba, though, none of the gang really visits him, as Axis likes to keep to himself.

As for fighting Undyne and the Royal Guard.... Axis has other priorities LOL. Axis and Clover kind of get on each other's nerves a lot when they're older. He'll let Clover and Frisk duck into the Steamworks to wait out any potential Royal Guards finding them if need be, but otherwise? He'd rather chill with his beloved partner. Maybe if push came to shove he'd step up since that is Ceroba's kid!

[leossmoonn]

All Along

masterlist

pairing - xavier thorpe x fem!reader

type - smut, fluff 16+

summary - coming to xavier for comfort, you get something else

warnings / includes - language, smut with plot!! (sorry not sorry) bsf to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, cheating, toxic relationship, semi soft sex, body worship, first time sex, unprotected sex (this is fiction, use protection in real life) alternate uni where xavier doesn’t like Wednesday (romantically)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

You wrap your arms around yourself tighter, sniffling as you walk through the forest. The leaves crunch under your sneakers, branches snapping with each stomp you make. You walk as fast as you can, needing some relief after the horrible fight you’ve just had.

Another argument sparked with your boyfriend. Surprised? No. Hurt? Yes. Annoyingly, so. Each fight seems worse, and no matter how redundant the topics are, your boyfriend manages to say worse things each time. You’re always left sobbing and alone.

But tonight you decided to reach out to the person who always told you to come to him when you needed a friend. You were going to see how well he was going to keep his word.

You softly knock on his door, shivering in the chilly night. You put your ear up to his door, hearing silence. You purse your lips and look back, debating whether or not to go. He doesn’t need to be bothered at this time of night. Not when it’s over relationship drama.

You begin to turn around, but you stop as you hear the door unlock. You turn back around, seeing Xavier in his pajamas and navy blue shirt. His hair is tousled and tangled, sticking up every which way.

“Y/n? What’re you doing here?” he asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath, about to start crying again. Just thinking about your argument made you shed tears. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to articulate it.

Xavier becomes more alert as he sees a few tears run down your cheeks. He softly but firmly grabs your hand, pulling you into his dorm. He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his long arms around your back. You melt into him, thankful for the warmth and the comfort. You begin to cry more into his chest, hiccuping and snotting all over his robe.

He rubs your back soothingly, presses a light kiss to the crown of your head. The hand that’s not rubbing your back cradles the back of your head, holding you ever closer. You two stay there for a few good minutes before you are ready to pull away and speak.

Your throat is scratchy and your eyes bloodshot. Streaks of tears seem to be imprinted on your face. Your lips are puffy and swollen, some snot drying from the corners of your nostrils. But Xavier notices none of that. He cups your face, wiping the remaining tears with his thumb. His brows are furrowed as he looks back forth between your eyes, trying to conjure up his own explanation of why you’re crying in his arms at 2:28 AM.

“Let’s sit down,” he says softly, his voice hoarse from just waking up. He leads you to his bed, wrapping a blanket around you to keep you warm. He interlocks hands with you, keeping them warm. “What did he say to you?”

“Same old shit,” you sigh. “Accusing me, blaming me, shit-talking me, making rumors up about me.”

Xavier sighs heavily. You see him roll his eyes out from the corner of your eye.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks. “I mean, yeah. I’m crying,” you chuckle sourly.

“Did he touch you?” he clarifies. “No,” you shake your head. “You know he’s not like that.”

“He’s still an asshole,” he mutters. “Definitely,” you nod. “First he tells his buddies that I’m great in bed, then he accuses me of cheating, again. I mean, if he’s going to accuse me of something, he could at least change it up. Like I killed someone, or something,” you scoff.

Xavier chuckles a little. You glance at him and half smile.

“He shouldn’t be going around telling anybody about your business,” he states.

“I know, and I’ve told him. And he always promises he’ll shut up, but the next day I’m the talk of the school again!” you exclaim, frustrated.

Xavier thinks back to what he’s heard his peers say about you behind your back. Over-sexualizing you to the point where it makes him sick to his stomach. He would be lying if he said he had never thought about you sexually, but only briefly. Mostly in passing when he notices the nice dress you might be wearing, or if his mind wanders too far when he’s about to go to sleep. But the comments he hears are vile and disgusting. And especially since they are from your boyfriend who is supposed to be respecting your boundaries.

“I hope you know that when I hear those comments, I try to shut them down,” Xavier says.

Your smile now is bigger than the one before. “Really?”

“Yep,” he nods proudly. “I almost punched a guy once,” he admits.

“I appreciate it,” you pat his hand. “But you don’t need to be playing hero for me. This is my issue. My problem. My relationship.”

“Just because it’s your relationship doesn’t mean you can’t have help,” Xavier states.

You nod slowly and huff, your shoulder sagging. “But this is my own mess. I’m so stupid, Xavi.”

Xavier furrows his brows, squeezing your hand for support. “You’re not stupid.”

“Yes, I am. I mean, we fight and don’t talk to each other for a day. Then he says nice things to me and kisses me and… and I’m reminded of the guy that I fell I love with,” you mumble.

Your words are like a punch to the gut for Xavier. His hand that’s not holding yours balls into a fist, his knuckles becoming white. He wants to tell you to leave him. That this vicious cycle is toxic, but it’s nothing you don’t know already. Your boyfriend just has you under his ridiculous spell.

Maybe he could tell you. If you’ll allow him.

“Tell me if I’m overstepping, okay?” Xavier asks.

You nod and sit silently, anxious to hear what he has to say.

“Maybe he was never they guy you fell in love with. Have you ever thought that this guy who constantly is hurting you is the real him?”

This makes your heart drop. You feel sick to your stomach. You feel ridiculous now. Of course you have thought about that. This is what Wednesday told you after your second fight with him. But you stay with him because, well, you’re naive enough to fall for his apologies and sweet talk.

You’re so worthless, you think. So pathetic. Staying with a guy who is a piece of shit, and treats you like a bigger one. You can’t help but cry again.

Xavier’s eyes widens in panic. He regrets what he said. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. You came to him looking for comfort, not advice. Not the truth. And now he’s made you do the one thing he swore he would never make you do: cry.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, getting up and spinning in circles to try and find tissues.

“Xavier,” you call out, voice breaking. He ignores you, still trying to find those tissues and thinking of ways to make you feel better.

“Xavier,” you say louder. You groan as he still doesn’t face you. “Xavier!” you shout.

He spins around, box of tissues in his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re right. I know it, and you definitely do. It just.. sucks to hear,” you laugh breathily.

He nods, gulping hard. He sits back down next to you, holding out the tissues for you. You take them thankfully, blowing your nose and dabbing your eyes. You stay silent for a couple of minutes.

Xavier waits patiently for you to collect your thoughts, admiring you in the meantime. Your eyes are glassy from the tears, but you still have a spark in your eye that he loves to see. Your shirt, that’s ironically your boyfriend’s, hangs off of your shoulder slightly. Your leg bounces up and down as you twiddle with the hem of the shirt. In the dim light of his room, Xavier can see the dark circles under your eyes from the nights that he’s sure are full of screaming and crying instead of sleeping peacefully.

God, what he would to kiss you right now.

“I’ll end it with him tomorrow,” you decide.

Xavier’s eyes light up. He tries to contain the joy in his face, but fails embarrassingly. He grabs your hand that’s on your bed, squeezing it.

“I-I’m happy to hear that,” he stammers. “I know,” you chuckle. “You hate him.”

“Well, I can’t exactly like the guy that makes you feel like shit,” he snorts.

“Thank you for helping me,” you smile.

You hug him tightly, closing your eyes and burying your face into his shoulder. He quickly wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him. He kisses your forehead as you pull away. You smile softly, your breath becoming caught in your throat. You notice his eyes flutter down to your lips, eyeing them for a few moments. His hazel eyes meet yours. Even in the low light, you can see the golden brown flecks around his pupils.

His hand cups your cheek again, bringing your face closer. Your heart pounds in your chest. You can hear it in your ears. Your eyes frantically look over him, studying his body language. His other hand rests on your mid-thigh, warmth from his palm spreading to just below your waist.

“Xavier, what’re you doing?” you whisper.

“I…” he fails to get out the words. He’s so nervous, he can barely speak. He’s been waiting for this moment for a year now, as pathetic as it sounds.

“I thought you liked Wednesday,” you wonder.

Xavier’s brows raise and he pulls back. “Where did to get that idea?”

“You’re always following her around like a lost puppy. You even were excited about going to the Rave’N with her,” you explain.

“I was following her around because she found about my club, remember? And I wanted to get to know her more, but as friend. I don’t like her like that. Not like I like you,” he says. Saying that is like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders. Even if you don’t feel the same, which he is ready to accept, at least he is not carrying this huge secret with him. Maybe you two can still continue to be friends, too. He’d be willing to suck it up for you.

Your heart jumps with excitement. You never thought about Xavier liking you. Well, there was a tiny chance when you started dating your boyfriend. Xavier would hang around more, blatantly insult your boyfriend, try to get Ajax to stone him even. He stopped after a week or so once he realized you were serious about the guy. Not so say you weren’t, but you did miss Xavier’s efforts to get your attention.

But now you’re completely done with your boyfriend. You realize you’ve been for a while now. You’ve just been hanging on to whatever you thought you could still make work. It’s clear to you now that nothing could fix you, too, except for breaking up. That solution sounds very good. And to be frank, kissing Xavier sounds even better.

“Did I say too much?” Xavier asks, his voice a tiny bit above a whisper.

“No,” you shake your head, beginning to smile from ear to ear. “You’ve said just enough.” you bridge the gap between you two. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your fingers sifting through his tousled hair. You bring your body up close to his, lightly pressing your chest against his.

He’s shocked and you can tell. He doesn’t reciprocate until you pull away. He brings you back, his arms holding you even closer. You sit up on your knees, taking a shallow breath as you move him to the middle of his bed. He crawls backwards until his back hits the backboard. You straddle his hips, feeling his boner up against your thigh.

Your hands slips down to his shirt, lifting it up slowly. He raises his arms, your kiss breaking for a few seconds before your lips meet again. Your teeth clash with each other, tongues tasting each other. The kiss is sloppy now, needy and fervent, but passionate.

You run your hands down his chest, his hot skin burning the palms of your hands. His hands snake under your boyfriend’s shirt, feeling your bare back. You place your hands at the bottom of your shirt, taking it off.

Xavier’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. Your tits sit so pretty, your nipples hard as a rock as the cold air nips them. He becomes impossibly harder, feeling the pre-cum soak the waistband of his underwear.

He doesn’t waste any time staring. He dives down and kisses your neck, sucking harshly on your smooth skin. He places sweet kisses along your shoulders, licking a trial down the valley between your breasts. He attaches his mouth to your nipple, raising his hand to massage your other boob.

“Enjoying yourself?” you snicker, your head tipping back in pleasure.

He looks up at you from your body, his lips sucking your boob. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire now. He smirks as he feels your body temperature rise. You smile shyly in reply. Without warning, he grabs your hips, lifting you up and flipping you two over. Your head hits the pillows, back sinking down into the mattress. You look up and see Xavier settling between your thighs. His hair cascades down his face, creating shadows over his cheeks.

Your run your hands through his hair, tucking the strands behind his ears. He smiles down at you, those smile lines you always loved so much creating ripples in his skin. His hands massage your sides, allowing you to relax even further into the bed.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. I don’t understand how someone could treat you so poorly. You deserve so much more,” he beams, gazing into your eyes.

You lean up to his ear, nibbling on the skin just below it. A thrill runs up his spine, his eyes fluttering close. “Show me, then,” you whisper.

His head is spinning and heart pounding. He nods excitedly, kissing down your stomach, leaving no skin untouched. You let out a breathy moan in need. You want him so bad it hurts. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to obtain the friction you’re craving. He notices how much you’re moving in bed, taking one hand to trail down to your pants. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours. His fingers hook under the waistband of your pants. You nod quickly, your own hands shooting down to your pants and practically ripping them off.

You kick off your pants onto the floor, leaving you almost naked. There’s a jolt of excitement that runs through his veins. His hands feels over your black panties, feeling a little wet spot right in the middle. His cock twitches in his pants as he thinks about how wet you must be, and all because of him.

Xavier picks the pace back up, trailing his lips down your stomach. You feel giddy as his lips get closer to your pussy. You feel the heartbeat between your legs, waiting painfully in anticipation for him to touch you.

He places a kiss over your underwear. You’re so pathetic you moan loudly. You buck your hips up, his nose bumping against your mound. He smiles against the fabric, bringing his head down lower to your thighs. He softly sucks your inner thighs, his hands creeping under your panties. His fingers part your pussy lips, slipping inside to feel the warm, slick center. He swallowed hard, throat becoming dry. You’re seeping juices out from your underwear and soaking his bedsheets.

You’re a little embarrassed. He hasn’t done much but kiss and touch you, and you’re already a mess. Despite your boyfriend bragging about you, you two barely ever had sex. And if you did, it wasn’t very good. Tonight was a big relief for you, especially since Xavier is doing so well, too. Your standards are so low, but you know that Xavier will raise them.

He slips two fingers inside, moving them in and out slowly. Your pussy makes a gushing noise, making him smirk up at you. He peers up at you from under his long lashes. You face feels hot as you see his cocky grin.

“You must really be desperate, huh?” he asks. His fingers go in deeper, moving up and down inside of you. He moves his body to tower over you, no wavering in his hand movements. His head hangs down next to your ear. His hair tickles your cheek. Your laugh and moan at the same time, his fingers fucking you feeling so good.

“Let me guess, he doesn’t pleasure you this well, huh?” he whispers.

“Mm-hm,” you shake your head. His other hand is on your thigh. He moves it down to your underwear, slipping under the top and finding your clit with ease. One of your hands flies up to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, Xavier,” you say breathily. “Shit. Ah… ah, Xavier,” you moan. “Need more,” you whine.

You bring your other hand down between you two, tugging on the drawstring of his pants. Xavier pulls away, getting off the bed and taking off his underwear and pants.

You knew him being 6’2” would give him some length. His cock is an angry red, pre-cum leaking down and coating the sides. Your mind runs wild with how he’ll feel inside of you.

You take off your underwear, leaving both of you naked. He climbs back into the bed, sitting between your thighs. You place your hand on the back of his neck, your fingers entangling themselves in his hair. You bring his head down to yours, kissing him slowly. His heart flutters, ears turning pink as he becomes flustered. Your hand snakes down between you two, wrapping around his dick and giving him a few pumps. The pre-cum runs down your hand and drips onto your thighs.

“Wait,” he pulls away. “Do you not want to do this?” you ask, ready to get out of bed and put your panties back on.

“No, I do. Trust me, I… I really want to. But this is my first time,” he confesses.

You smile brightly, gently taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “It’ll be mine, too.”

He furrows his brows. “I-I thought —?”

“Yeah, I never allowed him to go that far,” you chuckle. “I was waiting for someone special,” you grin, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles.

Pride fills his chest. He can’t wipe the smile off of his face. His cheeks already hurt from smiling so hard. He squeezes your hand, diving down to kiss you. You both are smiling, unable to properly kiss each other. He rests his forehead onto yours, looking into your eyes.

“I’ll go slow. Tell me if it hurts or anything, okay?” he asks.

You nod, spreading your legs. You try to relax as much as you can, but you’re too excited. You’ve always liked Xavier. You’ve always loved him. There’s no doubt in your mind he’s the right person for you, the right person to do this with.

He parts your pussy with his tip, slowly sliding in. Your nails dig into his hand and bicep. You bite your lip harshly, almost drawling blood.

“You okay?” he asks. “Mmhm,” you nod. You take a big deep breath in and out as he continues. “Stop, stop. I-I don’t think I can have you go any further.”

He nods in understanding, kissing your cheek sweetly. “Feels so good to me, anyways. No matter how much of me is inside.”

You giggle at his kind words, capturing his lips into a kiss once more. He slips out of you and slowly enters you, the small amount of friction making him moan in your mouth. One of his hands rests behind your head while the other goes down between you two, finding your clit. You let out a whiny moan, grabbing onto his skin.

He picks up the pace each second and you get more acquainted with his size.

“More,” you demand. He doesn’t question it, slipping another inch into you.

Your toes curl at the end of the bed. You plant your feet into the mattress, bucking your hips up to meet his. You both groan loudly, Xavier’s eyes rolling back while your head tilts back into the pillows, breaking the kiss.

“You feel so good, fuck,” he mumbles. He opens his eyes, looking down and watching as his dick exits and enters you. His pre-cum mixes with your juices, making a sloshing sound.

“Mm, Xavier. Right here,” you gasp. You buck your hips back up, his dick hitting your g-spot with just enough pressure. “Shit. Ju-just like that. Yeah, yeah. Ah, ah! Xavier!” you shout.

His thumb that’s on your clit circles it faster, his hips snapping with yours. Your muscles clench around him, and he’s almost done for. He doesn’t want to come until you do, though. He’s determined.

Your fingers scrap down his back, your body arching. Your chest meets his, the sweat from both your bodies mixing. Xavier presses his lips to yours in a messy, wet, hot kiss. His hot breath fans over the side of your mouth, his teeth clashing with yours.

“Xavi, I’m close,” you moan, eyes screwing shut. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. D-Don’t change anything. Ah, fuck.”

He keeps the exact same pressure and pace, looking down at your face. You look so beautiful when about to come. Your jaw dropped with sweat lining your neck. Your eyes are rolled back, head digging into the pillows.

“Xavier, I’m gonna, I’m gonna come! I-I’m gonna —!”

You muscles tense up and you feel the pressure lifting off of your tummy.

“Oh, fuck, Y/n,” he groans, gripping the pillow next to your head. He pulls out quickly, his whole body shaking as he comes. He manages to turn his body to the side, getting a little bit of cum on your thigh.

“S-sorry,” he stammers, quickly getting a tissue and wiping your thigh.

“No worries,” you smile. “Are you, uh, on birth control?” Xavier asks, still a little breathless.

“Yes,” you nod. “If I wasn’t, I would’ve asked for a condom.”

He smiles and nods, “right.” he puts his underwear and pants back on. He grabs your clothes, setting them on the bed next to you. “Would you like some water? Or a snack?”

“I would love some water, thank you.” you nod. You take your clothes and head to the bathroom. Xavier jogs over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back.

“Do you feel okay?” he asks. “Yes. I feel a little sore, but I’ll be okay,” you answer.

“Okay,” he grins. He leans down and pecks your cheek and forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh happily and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I love you.“

He kisses the side of your head before pulling away. “What if your boyfriend finds out?”

“He’ll be my ex by then,” you shrug. “And I’ll be able to make up rumors about him. Like how he’s so bad and that’s why I went to you,” you wink.

Xavier smirks, “he’ll be pissed.”

“Mm, good,” you hum. You lean up and kiss him. “He deserves it.”

————

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@murdockcastleslut @kenzi-woycehoski @mayax2o07 @1-800-mocha @wetwilliam02

[partycatty]

you write for mk11 gramps johnny? have serious brain rot for him

if so could you write a fic of him dicking us down for being a brat? u can make up a plot or not i just need it and need him. love ur writing either way!!

- 💙

alright, im using this ask but i have a very specific image for this rn. this is gonna be a meaty post so hear me out

older!johnny cage > waste ur time

this is based off of the song WasteUrTime by Kevin Walkman with some lyrics (in pink) sprinkled in. you and johnny have a clear age gap, trying to avoid giving into desires, but 3am rolls around and you consider the idea of having a late night visitor.

warnings: smutty, age gap, ur both horny demons, virgin reader, i dont know how military ranks work, affair, sonya never gets Rocked

notes: this is going to be a little more artsy that what i usually do, so apologies if the format change is not ideal. this is more of an actual fic than bullet points. also the lyrics are out of order and not all included, so you don't need the song to enjoy this!

word count: 2.6k

[ masterlist ]

give me a glass of your innocence.

training was hard, your skin glistening with sweat and your face flushed from overexertion. the task was relatively simple; to climb up a deeply sloped wooden platform using nothing but your grip and momentum. your comrades were cheering you on, including briggs, commander cage, her mother, and her father. straining yourself to grip the ledge of the platform, you finally hoist yourself up and stand upright, not before doubling over to pant.

the others applaud and surround you with cheers. a firm hand finds its place square on your back, rubbing in circles.

"atta girl," the voice leans into your ear with an audible grin. "knew you had it in you."

your head turns to thank the disconnected voice, but out of your fuzzy mind, the realization pulls through that none other than your superior, johnny cage was the one congratulating you so intimately. his praise makes your cheeks flush even darker and your gaze averts, too afraid of such direct appreciation which johnny notes. you weren't used to compliments.

this is my creation, here's your invitation.

you knew something intense was brewing with each lingering stare or gentle squeeze to your shoulder. how intense exactly, you couldn't pick out. with minimal experience with others lusting for you, it didn't register in your head at first just how hungrily he gazed at you. not that you were complaining necessarily, he was part-time action star, part-time military leader. he was built, charismatic, and a family man. it felt impossible to not feel weak in the knees around him.

johnny knew he had an effect on you, as he did most others. despite watering down his hollywood charisma, he couldn't bring himself to deny how sexy he was at his older age. something about a buff salt and pepper man telling you what to do had you following commands like a dog, doing anything it takes to have him praise you more.

even still, you couldn't do anything about it. johnny was a married man. his family was your coworkers, hell, it was their job to command you! the guilty thoughts would creep up on you no matter how badly you wanted to avoid them. couldn't you have chosen a more... single man?

you seem so damn nervous.

"how can i be of service?" johnny asks, leaning his front half forward ever so slightly to show you he was interested in every word that dripped from your lips. your vision was too blurred from anxiety to properly articulate what you needed from him, so you nervously swirled your drink. damn the special forces and their free alcohol parties.

"how do you do it?" you ask with a stammer. "earthrealm, netherrealm, tarkatans, ninjas, thunder gods. it all feels so unreal. how do you stay so calm?"

"mm," he hums, lowering his own glass after a brief sip. "well, you get used to it. turns out i was born to a mediterranean war cult's gene pool. watched my daughter kick an elder god's ass while i got maggots down my throat. went face-to-face with younger me. there are just some things that are too damn ridiculous to ever fully understand, so i accept it for what it is. when you're my age, fighting for all of these otherworldly things, most of the little things feel like a walk in the park."

"don't get me wrong, sir, i'll fight for earthrealm, but this is all so... dizzying."

johnny visibly tenses up at 'sir.' "tell you what," he grabs his drink napkin and opens a sharpie with his teeth. "you ever wanna talk about it with someone that's seen everything, you come to me." he writes his personal phone number on the napkin and places it in your palm with a smile.

you fidget with the paper before pocketing it, worried you'd pick at it too much and rip it to shreds before you could save the digits. the most you could bring yourself to do was half-bow, half-nod before scurrying away to the bathroom to cool your hot face. johnny could only chuckle to himself with a shake of his head.

long walks of shame look so good on you.

a long time was spent staring at the new conversation on your phone. despite your inexperience, there was a simmering feeling that johnny didn't just give you his number to let you vent. he wanted to talk to you outside of work. the thought makes you sweat.

why would he want to talk to you? if he wanted conversation, he would reach out to his wife and kid. he had it all, and yet he still wanted to put everything on the line for you.

you're moving fast, and i'm into it.

"lieutenant. it's reader," you shoot a simple text out, lying to yourself when you justify texting him for the sake of him saving your number. it was late, too late to be texting your superior. another lie you told yourself: i'll just send the message now so he sees it in the morning! your shameful justifications are ripped from you when you receive a reply, almost immediately.

"couldn't it have waited until the morning?" he replies bluntly, and you're ready to type out a spew of apologies before a second text comes through. "i'm teasing. johnny, by the way. no need for titles."

"sorry." you try to remain professional with your response, fingers dancing wildly across your keyboard. your eyes flicker up to the clock in the top corner, realizing it's well into the night. "didn't expect a response so late. have a good night, lieutenant."

you're ready to throw your phone out of the nearest window out of sheer embarrassment, but you stop when you feel another buzz come through. your stomach flips.

"johnny. you usually stay up late?" he texts, drawing the conversation out much to your surprise. "it's 3:30 in the morning."

"my day's been so boring," you decide to lean into the more casual chat, hoping to find a softer side to your boss. you should feel disgusted, repulsed, put off. he was double your age and then some. but dear god, his attention on you was hypnotizing even if it was just words on a screen. "hoping to waste some time before tomorrow comes. lots of training."

johnny's reply takes a suspiciously long time to come through, his bubble appearing and disappearing. just before you thought you lost the conversation, a photo comes through. johnny's laying in bed, hair ruffled and shirtless. his eyes have a soft, pleading look to them and his lips are curled into a pretty smile. the tiniest glimpse of his chest tattoo pokes through the bottom of the image, and you had to make a conscious effort to swallow your drool and close your jaw. you almost don't notice the text attached.

"maybe i could waste your time?"

you choke on your saliva, glancing off to the corner of your room as if an invisible camera was perched there. this man held zero shame, that much was true. you suppose it's from his age. there's only so much time in one life, so he's seizing every moment. it terrified you, to the depths of your core.

"i don't follow," you text back, playing dumb. this was genuinely unbelievable to you, you needed to hear more from his perspective to make sure you weren't actually dreaming or reading too far into his offer.

"come on, girl," he teasingly responds. "don't play dumb. i may be old, but i'm still sharp." another photo slides into the chat, the same idea s his previous one but now fully displaying his torso. his broad chest with his name painted on it was now boldly on display. his hand laid flirtatiously on his abs, fingers spread out. at the very bottom, you could make out the beginning of a thick tent in his pajama pants. it was like every inch of this man was maximized. you'd seen his shirtless form in his old movies, but seeing it now... it was personal. that photo was for you. "i know you're still fucking with me. i see how you look at me." you bite your lip, wondering if maybe sonya was sharing the other side of the bed. your stomach churns.

"i mean..." you leave the text at that, rapidly typing and deleting. you're not quite sure what to say, how to carry this now heated conversation. you'd never... had to before. "if i may state the obvious, you're... older. and my boss. and married."

his replies stop for a good couple minutes. you wonder if maybe he was regretting his advance. you hoped not.

"is it something that you'd mind?" johnny asks, hesitation in his words as he breaks away from his flirty comments. his question makes you ponder. you were a virgin at your age, holding onto this trait longer than almost everyone at a similar age to you. work was your priority, never giving yourself enough time for a serious commitment. but here you were. johnny was throwing something onto the table that you never expected to happen. were you going to pass this up and stay a virgin forever? hell, no!

"sent you my location. let's try something new, lieutenant."

"johnny." he corrects you one final time before falling completely silent on his end. your stomach twists and churns wildly, realizing you have opened the flood gates to a hookup with your boss. you throw your pajamas off and replace them with a cuter, coordinating pair. you brush your teeth again and try to fix your hair into a neater updo, not impacted by the friction of your pillowcase. shoes and various discarded belongings are shoved under the bed and into the closet. you hadn't had male company, well, ever. you had to come off as somewhat decent for him.

jesus christ, your mind grows dizzy. you were going to lose your virginity, now, or in however long it takes for him to arrive at you apartment. you're not far from work, and even still the time it took for you to hear footsteps in the hallway must have been a century at the minimum. you were seriously going through with this because it was about damn time you enjoyed yourself and spiced shit up.

the heavy footsteps come to a halt, the shadow overtaking the faint hallway light glowing. a part of you wants to hide, maybe jump out of your fire exit. your nerves were blinding, and taking the steps to the entrance felt like an olympic sport. that is, until a new text appears.

"let me inside."

do you open the door? leaning against it, you can smell his musk just through the crack alone. damn his hypnotic... everything. if you open the door, his entire career, marriage, and life could be over. that is, if you spill. you wouldn't.

keeping shit a secret fits you like a glove.

you slowly open the door, hand frozen on the doorknob as you're met with your boss towering over you with a heavy look in his eyes. it's hard to avoid his own hesitation too, but his hard breathing betrays his morals. he looks ready to pounce at any given moment. johnny's mouth opens first, but you beat him to it.

"i'm a virgin," you blurt, mind too empty to feel embarrassed at the fact. you felt the need to tell him now, before he was on top of you and you laid there like a fool.

johnny's brows raise up ever so slightly. "what?"

the heat of the admittance catches up to you, and you twiddle with the hem of your shorts. you repeat yourself meekly, letting the predicament set in between the two of you.

"that's..." he trails off, glancing into your room. "um."

"i'm sorry-" your face heats up, your eyes pricking with tears at the awkward air. "i just... i didn't want you to be surprised, because i don't know what i'm doing."

something new stirs in johnny's core as he understands the weight of the situation. his fists clench and he takes a lumbering step toward you. you back up on instinct.

"that's alright," he purrs, voice hitting a new low, one that's far away from his professional volume. "'cause i'll take care of you. i've got you."

he stands up straight, scratching the back of his neck.

"if you'll have me... i guess that speaks for itself. i'm here, aren't i?"

you nod with a nervous chuckle. your bodies move in sync as you figure out where to put your hands. they settle on his neck, wrapping your arms around him to pull him in. his hands hold your waist. jesus, his hands are big. you'd kissed before, so this is familiar territory.

"i'll take that as a yes," his eyes flick to your lips, visibly restraining himself from fully taking advantage of you. he leans in for a tender kiss, your lips and his moving together. it turns heated quick, with his tongue darting out to get a taste of your mouth which you accept gratefully.

johnny's hands trail down to your ass, cupping the underside as if his hands were destined to fit there. he tugs upward, and you understand what he's trying to do. you jump up and break the kiss momentarily so your legs trap his waist. in between make out sessions, you guide him through your apartment to the bedroom. his lips taste bitter like alcohol but cleanly sweet. exactly how you imagined.

your mind is hazy with lust, your pussy clenching around nothing as you envision taking a monster like him for the first time. a part of you wonders if it's even possible. instead of throwing you onto the mattress, he lowers you like a princess, supporting your head and back with each hand which does nothing to help your aching wetness pooling between your legs.

johnny's lips dive to your jaw, sucking and biting tenderly. you wince, but replace the noise with a lustful gasp as he soothes the pain with his hot tongue. you want to clench your thighs together to relieve the throbbing pressure, but johnny's hands pry your legs open as his hips fit perfectly between them. like a forbidden puzzle piece. you feel his cock rub through your pajamas, and your mouth gathers drool.

johnny finds any possible plush flesh of your neck to take in, kissing wetly as he gently ruts into you, not even realizing he's doing it. he needed to explore every inch of this new body, this new lover... his mistress.

if you were to start praying for forgiveness, it'd be now. you internally cursed sonya for getting her hands on him before you could. your chest burned with jealousy and desire. he was so evilly delicious, and every inch of him needed to be inside before you'd start sobbing. your hands fly forward and tug him forward by his waistband.

"need you," is the most you can coherently ask for, blinded by your horniness. johnny pulls away from your collar, panting in your face. he can't bring himself to look directly in your eyes, your wet, pleading eyes.

"you..." he swallows thickly, brows knitting together. he frowns. "you can't tell anyone. you know that, right?''

you nod with a small whine. you wanted him to just shut up and fuck you.

"hhh - won't say anything," you huff back, gliding your dampened bottoms across his dick with need. he groans, and buries his head in your neck, a deep sigh sending goosebumps across you skin.

"atta girl..."

so hit me up when you feel down i'll make your ass stay 'til sundown i understand what you've been through 'cause I'm a sorry sucker too i know you're scared and that's alright just let me love you for the night

[samheughanswife]

Personalities

Charles was first up for the panels. He was alone because DB was home with 🦠

What a delight.

A thoughtful, self deprecating intelligent man. Equals parts wicked and witty. Very thrilled to be in his first “adult” role. He loves 🇨🇦 his mum - who had watched OL and said “get it Charles” when he auditioned. He explained, what for me niggled, his over plucked eyebrows. He got the call to go to NY and was there for 3 days just to get his brows plucked. A mistake, never to repeated. Spoke about the strict work rules in 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 and overall beyond thrilled to be on OL. Loves the cast and crew. He is headed to 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 on 27/2.

So it’s on. Production.

Back story to the white t-shirts. A member of staff of Hub productions is also an aged care worker. She was viciously mauled by a dog at a clients home and is currently off work. The auction of the shirts and the funds raised will to be donated to her.

Charles was first up and was so taken aback with the increase in bids. His T-shirt went for $1K. He was so happy and thrilled.

Ian. What an articulate charming confident man. He knows who he is and can camp it up with so much confidence and passion. In 🇦🇺 with his grandmother. After Melbourne they are headed to the red centre, the Northern Territory continuing their trip together.

He was asked to give one word for S8, he had scripts for 2 episodes and said SIZZLING. He is an energizer bunny.

He was also Duncan’s hearing aid, so to speak.

Duncan is a veteran. Enjoys the benefits of Cons and the very close friendship with Sam. It was a stroll down memory lane and he did struggle to remember episodes. In his defense, it’s years ago and he isn’t involved now.

Both Ian and Duncan t-shirts were hits. Duncan was auctioned for $3K. Bidding was fierce and very close. Loads of Duncan/Murtagh fans.

It goes without saying the bidding for Sam’s T-shirt was fierce. $5,500 the winning bid. A lovely older lady next to me was an absolute dark horse. She wondered what Sam’s shirt would fetch - could it be $10K? Well at $2500 she bid for Duncan. Didn’t get it, was disappointed but had a smile.

She entered the bid at $5K for Sam’s but was beaten by a woman who had her husband with her. I was disappointed for the lovely old gal. A cancer survivor widow. She found OL during her cancer treatments and it gave her the push to travel. She was thrilled to be there and part of the day. I felt her joy and happiness.

Sam unprompted said he would match the final bid. So $11k for his drawing on the T-shirt.

The generosity of the OL fans was ♥️ $16K raised.

No one was forced. It wasn’t Sam mommies who bid - which is constantly thrown around. It was young women. They chose to part with their $$ for a woman none of us knew.

Let’s see how that is represented.

[azgfggf]

For a while I’ve been trying to articulate why XWP means so much to me, and I think I’ve figured it out. It seems to come from a bizzaro world where everything is just. Equal. It feels like a real feminist show because the women are so respected.

I realized this when watching episode 6 (or seven maybe?) there was a scene where Xena was imprisoned, feet chained to the floor and hands to the ceiling. A group of men came in with the express purpose to harm, and in a moment of clarity I realized that I didn’t fear for Xena in the way I did for every other female in fantasy. Fantasy (as a male dominated genre) is full of sexual violence towards women, often used as story beats or just shock. It permeates women’s real lives and bleeds into what they read for escapist fantasy. For a long time I’ve felt as if nowhere is truly safe, because most fantasy media eventually has a scene or two where a woman is violated, or a costume that’s glorified lingerie, and I have to remind myself that this genre was never made with women in mind. But that scene ended with Xena beating the shit out of them, because they tried to beat her. Not assault or grab, just punches and kicks, like men would fight in fantasy. And she fucking won because she’s Xena and she’s awesome.

Again, in many episodes men want her. But they’re never violent towards her. In the show she is treated like a man would be treated in any fantasy setting. With respect. That’s true escapism for me, some world where that kind of violence either doesn’t exist or isnt prevalent. A world so easy to make, and yet so often thrown aside because of “historical accuracy”. In fiction. The specifically not historically accurate genre where you can pull anything out of your ass and people just kinda have to vibe with that.

I’ve also mentioned this before, but it’s so rare in fantasy for women to be…carefree I guess? Most of them are jaded from past violence, or future survivors, or meek healers, or old wise women. None of which are very allowed to be silly like their male counterparts. They’re always serious, always the voice of reason. Always so reigned in from what male characters are allowed to be. Xena has a dark past, but she’s still kind. The story is still light. Women are allowed to be happy without being victimized.

XWP is fantasy first and foremost, and it works wonders. There are POC everywhere, and nobody calls attention to it because, well, that’s just how it is in Xena-land. There’s no sexual violence toward any strong women, because, well, that’s just how it is in Xena-land. People fight on bamboo poles and race chariots in rivers and the steaks only go up to “Ooooo she has to marry the big bad” which never goes anywhere because we all know Xena is gonna stop them.

Xena Warrior Princess is always gonna be my favorite fantasy show, because it’s fantasy that’s finally geared towards women. A fantasy where women are safe, are capable, are treated in the same regard as men with no quippy girl-power one-liners because nobody needs to quip about the status quo. In a genre where women are so often demeaned and violated for minor story beats or shock value, seeing a work that actually feeds into a more female fantasy is what I’m obsessed with. It’s wonderful to see a magical world where women don’t have to live in fear. Or they do, like because cyclops’s n shit but everybody else does that too.

PS: this mostly applies to modern fantasy. Tolkien and Lewis were two authors I grew up on who I largely blame for my fantasy obsession today.

[roborabbitart]

I have... complicated feelings on the revelation that wolfertinger666 was puppychan. I do want to say, though, that I don't like people claiming he was faking mental illness. It was very clear something was wrong, whether anything he said was faked or not. Mentally stable people do not make constant suicide threats or what have you, regardless of it was attention-seeking.

People with mental disorders, especially those from other marginalized groups, are going to be messy, sometimes dangerous, and twitter fame and infamy did nothing to help it, especially not right wing extremists targeting him. Yes, he was attention-seeking. Yes, he was toxic and problematic. Yes, his actions were awful. But there needs to be a level of understanding that people with severe mental disorders are going to do awful things sometimes. Hell, everyone does. I've burnt my fair share of bridges via panic episodes, and my actions weigh on me to this day. But these people need help, not further ostracization and isolation, beyond removing yourself from a situation that is dangerous to you, because they've also had awful things done to them, and their very own mind constantly fights against them. Accountability is important, but we need to be careful not to invoke the prison system we claim to despise.

DID/plurality is an especially messy thing. Memories and/or feelings of other identities can sometimes linger or be accessed, but that doesn't make it fake. From my own experience with plurality, which I do not bring up lightly, even if you remember your alter's actions, they still feel distant, like those of someone else. I see his recent apology as a genuine acknowledgement of his alter's actions and claiming and accepting those actions as his own, even if it feels disconnected to him. No apology is perfect, either. People can only articulate so well.

None of this is to say you need to forgive him, or interact with him, especially if you were affected. But it's been years. I believe he deserves a chance to atone, especially if we're to claim we support people with mental illnesses. Also, this is the tgirl tboy tranny faggot site, stop policing his queerness. We're not twitter and we're not the moderators.

That all said, keep an eye on him. I'm fully aware I may get burned for putting any trust in him again.

EDIT: Apparently he hasn't really changed much, if at all. He's still best avoided. Razzicetea pointed out his ongoing issues.

Parts of what I've said still stand. Claiming anyone's mental illness to be fake, policing queerness, and denying atonement and the opportunity to change on a broader scale are dangerous things. I do still think he deserved the chance to do better. But he ultimately didn't take it, and that's on him.

[moonlitraven]

Tasteless Engine (2)

Suddenly, the puppet’s eyes flutter open and the doll stares at you.

Flabbergasted, you jump back and stop touching them. The porcelain puppet slowly, weakly sits up with numb arms. All you can do is stare at the living doll with wide eyes, while the mass elevates itself until it stands up before you.

“Who are you…?” the porcelain puppet asks with a low, groggy voice. Definitely a boy.

“I could return you the question! My name is […] and I’m a toy maker.” You reply.

“Good. I have been looking for you.” Says the puppet casually, as if he was not crying on your floor a few minutes ago. He starts walking in your bungalow with his chin raised high, as if he was the owner of this land. His torn clothes barely cover himself, and his joints and articulations creak with every move he makes and you decide to go after him.

“Wait! So, you know me, but what’s your name and how are you… Living?! Aren’t you a puppet?” You ask while walking behind him, in pure confusion.

“That’s none of your business. As for my name, I don’t have one.” Replies the doll boy. “What’s that?” he asks, pointing a book with his hand.

“Just a theater piece. It’s La Comedia Del Arte. You never heard of it?” You reply, taking the book and handing it to him. The nameless puppet takes the book and examinate it carefully.

“Well, just call me Scaramouche then.” He says after reading a few pages.

“Scara?

-Scaramouche” He objects, refusing the nickname. He puts back the book on the self.

“This bungalow is pathetic, but it is not the reason of my visit. I saw the sign near your house saying that you are a toy maker. It kills me to say it but I need your help.” After saying that, Scaramouche takes off the clothe that was hiding his bust. At the place where should be his heart if he was human is a huge hole, the porcelain is fissured and painting is damaged all around the hole and even slightly melted. You stare at it in awe for a few minutes. Never, in your life, you saw a human-puppet with a hole in the chest. Look then up at him in his eyes, which are a bit damaged too.

“… What happened to you?” You ask, shocked.

“None of your business too.” Answers the puppet with a dark face.

Promptly, you put him on your table and observes his features with a lot of caution.

“I never saw a doll this damaged. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fix all of that.

-What about my heart?

-You had a heart?

-Yes. But in an access of rage, I pulled it out of my chest, that’s how the hole… You know…”

You look at him, you can’t help but feel bad for him. Sure, he is not human at all, but it is almost like it, is it not? And mostly, he had a heart. You don’t know how it is possible, but you stopped asking yourself question when a living puppet started to cry before you.

“Sadly, I can do nothing for a heart-broken puppet, asides from repairing the damage, I can’t give you a heart.” You tell him softly, looking at him in the eyes.

“Then I’ll find someone who can.

-No one can. Scaramouche, a heart isn’t a clock! It is not mechanical, you can not buy it, or repair it with a hammer, nails and tools. I can’t do anything for this heart, nor no one can.

-You’re worthless! I should have known it when I crossed your door! I’m leaving, now.” The enraged doll jumps off the table and heads toward the living room.

“If you go outside, you’ll be even more broken!” You protest. “I can fix you! And maybe your heart will grow back! I bet you’re not that stupid…”

After you said that, Scaramouche looks down, lost in thought. Leaving the bungalow would be counterproductive, and after all, maybe those promises you tell him are true. In this case, it is not in his interest to leave. He turns to you.

“Alright, you win, human.

-I have a name.

-Don’t get me started or it’s you who’ll end up broken.

-So you’re staying here?

-Unfortunately.” The puppet rolls his eyes.

[synapsid-taxonomy]

On Smilodon mouth tissue

Keep in mind through this entire post that this is pretty rough and I don't specifically study sabercats. But we might as well take a closer look at the controversial Smilodon lip and gum tissue and see what it'd look like step-by-step. Let's start with a Smilodon skull (real fossil, not cast) with articulated sabers. Keep in mind the tip of this saber is broken off.

You can pretty clearly see the division between the enamel-covered portion of the teeth and the cementum. In modern felids, this cementoenamel junction is roughly where the gum line ends, and this is also what Riviere and Wheeler 2005 concluded for Smilodon. So if we take that and apply a gumline to this skull, it looks like this:

Now that looks like a pretty deep gumline! The full canines of Smilodon don't necessarily need to be covered by lips; even though they are covered by enamel, it's a very thin coating that doesn't require extensive hydration. This is also the case with the fangs of musk deer and Chinese water deer, who have their canines hanging on the outside of the mouth. These fanged deer, as well as tusked synapsids like walruses and Tiarajudens, have canines that project far beyond the bottom of the lower jaw (see below for the alternative) - and none have the massive bloodhound lips you may see around for Smilodon.

The gums, however, would need to be hydrated and covered by the lips. So that pink line could be an indicator of the minimum extent of the lip margin. But what I notice about these gumline comparisons is that we're looking only at the skull. If you bring in Smilodon's mandible and articulate it so that the mouth is closed...

The gumline doesn't go below the margin of the lower jaw. So the upper lips would not need to droop beyond the margin of the lower jaw. And as discussed above, the rest of the canines wouldn't necessarily need to be covered. Goodbye bloodhound Smilodon. This is consistent with how the lips do not droop beyond the margin of the mandible in any "saber-toothed" animal. Fanged deer and walruses have exposed canines. Clouded leopards keep their impressively-sized canines in the mouth; while the lips are relatively big, they don't droop over the lower jaw...

And saber-toothed animals that aren't smilodontines - including other true sabercats like Homotherium - don't actually have teeth that project beyond the bottom of the lower jaw (accounting for tooth slippage). Most of them have a deepened "chin" that follows the sabers. So it's possible, if not likely, that these animals simply had sabers covered by the soft tissue of the lower jaw when the mouth was closed. That would keep the teeth and gums moist regardless of how far down the gums went. Even if the teeth were exposed, the upper lips still wouldn't need to go very far down to keep the gums moist (you can see where the cementoenamel joint is on the Eusmilus skull replica in the lower right).

(top: Homotherium; bottom left, Thylacosmilus)

Now let's take the rigorous reconstruction of Smilodon from Turner et al. 2011 - and overlay it over the image above, to see if "traditional" Smilodon lips would cover all of this expanded gumline or not.

That looks like a pretty close match, I'd say! Being generous (and looking at clouded leopards as a very rough guide), I can see the margin of the upper lip maybe going like this. Lippier than usually pictured, but not shockingly so.

So not much would change.

Now, why would Smilodon need such deep gums? Simple - the longer a tooth is, the easier it is to break off. So more extensive gum tissue would help stabilize the sabers in the mouth. Which makes sense. The current model for sabercat predation is that they would subdue prey using their beefy muscled forelimbs, and only use the sabers at the end for the killing neck-puncturing bite. Don't wanna break them beforehand.

[rwbyrg]

How do you stay positive seeing all the negativity we get for shipping this?

I don't typically talk about discourse, but I know this is something pretty much every RG shipper has faced at some point. So I'll make an exception this once. For anyone that doesn't want to hear about it, I strongly encourage you to keep scrolling.

I'm gonna keep it brief(ish) and vague, but content warning for topics of mental health, abuse, general fandom toxicity and ship discourse.

The short answer is that I've had to completely remove myself from large fandom spaces. I left Twitter last fall, I'm not in any big Discords, and I never check the fandom Reddits. I block bullies, bystanders, and bad faith arguers liberally. I mute words and phrases I don't wish to see, I don't engage with the bad faith takes, and I don't go looking in tags much either.

I surround myself with a small group of friends that I enjoy spending time with and can trust. So I still have outlets to be able to geek out without risk of dealing with the wider community's negativity. This blog was also created as a safe outlet to ramble, join together, or spread positivity about the ship. I know how rough it is for us out there - in the RWBY fandom as a whole, as well as within our own RG shipping spaces. So since I can't be an impartial community leader that helps run events or bigger spaces for us like I used to, this is kind of all I have left to offer.

The slightly longer addition that got way out of hand:

I'm not going to say it's not lonely. That I don't miss being part of a more active, wider group of people that we should have every right to join. But despite how hard some of us tried, there was nothing we could do to change the toxicity that is so deeply rooted at the core of this fandom. The fact that I even tried as hard as I did was 1. a trauma response and 2. just ended up with me - and too many of my friends - getting hurt anyway. I can't regret it because it's how I made the friends that are so dear to me now. But none of us should have had to deal with the cyberbullying, harassment, dog-piling, backstabbing, suibaiting, or any of that other garbage to find the group we have today.

It's extremely fucked up. There's no way to sugar coat it. All of it is abuse and is genuinely traumatizing to many people. I am not using these as buzzwords either. Myself and a handful of my rg shipping friends have literally gone to therapy to help us heal from all the things we've experienced in this fandom. So I have it on the authority of multiple psychiatrists, therapists, and social workers that what I am saying here is true.

Rosegarden and its shippers have become the scapegoat of a toxic community. There are big name fans who've staked their entire platforms on the idea of a rival ship being canon. And so, when they see any of us suggesting a Very Likely alternative to their reality (even if we're minding our own business), they become violent and go out of their way to try and defend it. There are entire servers and friend groups built on bullying this ship and its shippers for similar reasons. Anyone that argues against them, no matter how valid their stance, or how articulately its delivered, is going to become a target. Because we are seen as a threat to a system they directly benefit from. If any of them were to acknowledge how unreasonable or ridiculous all of this is, what would that mean for the circumstances and relationships they've built for themselves? It would all fall apart, wouldn't it?

This is why we also see fellow RG shippers invalidating or blaming us for what we go through. Because some of them have become convinced that if they side with the bullies and paint themselves as "not like those shippers", then they'll be "safe". Which as we all know isn't true. Because the antis attack each other for the smallest offences that don't have anything to do with us anyway.

The RWBY fandom is not alone in struggling with this. Fandoms everywhere are seeing these same patterns play out in different ways. A lot of people without as many stakes in the arguments will often scoff or dismiss it on the basis of it being "so serious, when it's just about fictional characters". And to that, I say: bullshit.

First of all, the people on the other side of the screen dealing with all of this are Real People with Real Feelings and their own lives that are already hard enough as it it. And these sorts of environments, as previously mentioned, can and do cause severe harm. Second, none of this hate has anything to do with fictional characters. That is part of the reason why I am still able to enjoy this ship and this show despite everything I've been through here. Because the fictional characters are simply the means to an end. And while that end is different for everyone, for the bullies - by and large - it offers them power in the face of their insecurities.

The only reason this space is as toxic as it is, is because the loudest voices are often the most emotionally immature. All the reasonable people see the infighting going on and know that engaging with it is a pointless waste of energy. As someone that did try to fight it, I truly don't blame any of them for staying uninvolved. But power comes in numbers; so until a large enough group of the reasonable ones come forward, this fandom will only continue on the course it's headed.

I rambled a lot and I'm not even sure how much of this is relevant to your question. If i were to give a tl;dr to answer you, it is this:

You need to curate your own experience by setting boundaries for yourself that cannot easily be crossed by people or content that is going to upset you.

Recognizing the reason people behave the way they do towards all of this has very little, if anything, to do with the show, the ship itself, or the people shipping it is very liberating.

Don't be like how I was. Don't try and force it when it isn't working. If you are in an environment or a habit that you are getting more harm than joy from: leave. It doesn't always feel like it in the moment, but it is better to be alone than to be surrounded by people who suck. And when you shed the ones that don't treat you well, you open yourself up to more like-minded people that will want to be friends with you anyway.

I say this genuinely with only love and support in my heart, but: touch grass. As often as you can, as often as you need to: get offline. Read a book, engage in other hobbies, connect with people in real life, go for a walk or just get outside if you can. When you start connecting with the reality on your side of the screen more, it puts how pointless and absurd so much of this discourse really is into perspective. Moderation is key.

I'm sorry that all of the negativity has got you down. No one wants to acknowledge how much this sort of thing can affect our well being, but I know first hand how bad it can get. None of it is fair. The feelings you're having are valid and aren't anything to be ashamed about. If you have friends or family you can rely on for support, reach out to them when you need it. If you're in a place where you think the help you need is a bit more specialized, you have my support and encouragement in making the call or doing the research to get started. Therapy isn't accessible and doesn't always work for everyone, but it's not the only option. Before I could afford it, I micro-dosed by reading self-help books and following therapists on Instagram, lol.

I'm not sure what else I can say, and have said more than I meant to anyway. But hang in there, you're not alone, and take care of yourself, okay?💕🫂

[rinbylin]

friendships as marital ties (and other notes on relational ties) in mlc

this is sort of a third installment in the series of meta on 'mlc as an exemplar of constructing queer narratives out of chinese ideological frameworks' (1. jianghu as queer space and 2. how it manifests in li xiangyi) - focusing on the nature of relationships in it. (which I've briefly mentioned in the first one and finally actually getting to it!!)

-

I would like to first call attention to chinese ideological frameworks as a premise of queer reading in mlc. the goal of chinese philosophy is to explore the becoming of human, taking two broad paths of the (mainstream) secular vs. escaping the secular. (these two paths are not a strict dichotomy, and rather, are ever in flux and in conversation with each other.) as said by @markiafc too, chineseness is so much about the rigidity of structures, and in equal part, a desire to break out of them. thus, chinese ideological frameworks can very much offer a rich reading of queerness - that mlc, a story very deliberately structured based on chinese ideologies (more accurately, with good reasons for me to believe that it is as such), has managed to materialise.

if the conceptualisation of queerness is premised on a defiance against mainstream norms, then a reliable way to read queerness in chinese ideological frameworks can be to deconstruct it by the mainstream confucian frameworks.

in mlc, this is implicitly set up with its stage of wulin/martial jianghu. then it is further broken down by asking, hey wulin jianghu is still closely related to the hegemonic values and the mainstream structure of authority (historically, 侠 xia being politically involved says a lot about this), so what is the true meaning of jianghu? what does it then really take for jianghu to be a queer space offering comfort and freedom to those who have escaped to it - to be the space that allow the transcendence of rigid roles and labels? mlc took a step further to resist the proxy to mainstream values that wulin jianghu has become.

this is why there can be a very strong buddhism reading of mlc (suggested here, expounded in the A+++ meta by @markiafc here and here, and also what I've seen discussed by cnet as well), given that buddhism is one of the 'extra-secular' ideologies, alongside (philosophical) taoism. I've also touched on a taoist angle in this meta. both schools are articulated in different sets of languages, but ultimately convey a same ideal of what it means to be human and how to live well - that is, to resist the roles and labels defined by the norms.

so, back to confucian frameworks.

a lot can be discussed about mlc with it. but in the context of this meta about relationships in mlc, it's specifically drawing on how confucianism conceptualises social relationships with familial ties as a cornerstone, and how these relational ties are inextricable from the conceptualisation of the 'self'.

as such, one of the things about mlc that has fascinated me is how deliberately it seems to ignore and reject the conventional familial ties (the kind by blood and marital ties). I've joked about how it is a miracle for me to love mlc as much as I do, as a prime dysfunctional family story enjoyer, despite none of its main characters struggling with any complicated feelings about their (biological) parents. but on closer examination, mlc is also making a comment on the model of familial-based relationships that dominates mainstream society - but through the absence of it.

with this, I want to talk about 1) how mlc rejects the conventional ties; and then 2) how it repurposes these ties in its own ways.

-

the five relational ties in confucianism:

father and son 父子有亲 - (natural) affection between father and son

ruler and subject 君臣有义 - righteous relationship between ruler and subject

older and younger brothers 兄弟 (长幼有序) - this is actually about seniority within the family; the order between older vs younger family members

husband and wife 夫妇有别 - differentiation between husband and wife (demarcated by the 内外 spectrum of gendered inner-external spheres)

friends 朋友有信 - trust between friends

logically inferred, all these ties are hierarchical and familial-based except for the last one: friends. ruler-subject is sort of an extension of the natural familial ties, while friendship is the inverse space of 1-4 (ie. you fall back on 5 to define a social relationship outside of the familial sphere that cannot be qualified as 1-4). while all are premised on mutuality, it is only no. 5 that is defined by a sense of choice and equality.

on the surface, 1-4 don't quite exist in mlc in particularly meaningful ways to the narrative or are even outright overlooked, and friendship is the relational tie most valued by mlc. we can tell it's true just by looking at the most meaningful relationships in mlc of difanghua. but at the same time, it is more nuanced. we can take a closer look at how the story plays around with most of the ties as part of a broader queer narrative.

-

1) how mlc rejects the conventional ties

mlc's rejection of mainstream relational ties can be best seen in fdb escaping from marriage. and it was not just any engagement with anybody but an engagement with the imperial family. he struggles with the prospect of being married to princess zhaoling, but generally, it's about the idea of complying to mainstream conventions and expectations that includes compulsory heterosexuality. all these point not only to a defiance against amatonormativity - the resistance of the traditional husband-wife tie, but also an irreverence for the ties of ruler-subject (the engagement being an imperial decree) and father-son (matters of marriage being sole decisions made by parents).

of course this is on top of how fdb's own biological father is a p-o-s, and the narrative gives fdb minimal struggles in this aspect, allowing him to sever this tie without looking back (I love it, yeap). along the same line is how lxy is an orphan, who came to gain important relationships that are built on natural compassion among people rather than innate, blood-based ties - even as llh. the sense of defiance from the narrative is especially stark to me considering that he could have a completely different familial-based life - as a son, brother, and ruler, if his biological family was still around. the narrative also deliberately treats his biological brother as a phantom, replaced with an older brother who he was bonded with neither by blood nor marital ties. on dfs's front, absolutely nothing is to be known about his biological family. his childhood history with the toxic patriarch of his life - who is not even his biological father - was afforded a clean break and closure.

we can keep going on, but that's pretty much the point.

ritualisation is one of the most important things of the confucianism school, especially to the honoring of these social relationships (and the officiating of social roles). the one ceremony/ritual we saw in mlc involving the main characters - or more accurately speaking, came closest to seeing - was the imminent wedding ceremony of dfs and jlq. even in that case, it was premised on non-mutuality with dfs being the unwilling, passive party. (fem-coded dfs? 25 marks.)

and that brings us to the next part.

-

2) how mlc repurposes these ties

that particular wedding ceremony gets hijacked by dfs and lxy/llh, and gets turned into an important milestone in their relationship. they consummate - what is on text - their friendship after a long time being more enemies and rivals than friends. it is a clear establishment of the trust they have for each other. and here it is where I circle back to the subject of this post: friendships as marital ties.

in this article, as a part of a feminist, egalitarian reframing of confucianism, there is a proposal for spousal relationships to be reframed as a friendship tie. (this aligns with the interrelatedness of the five ties eg. the ruler-subject mirrors father-son dynamic, with the confucian belief that rulers have an obligation to their subjects alike parents to their own children.) by doing so, it removes the functional, gendered differentiation assigned to marital ties, and shifts it to something equal, and independent of gender. you exalt the value of trust between spouses, instead of basing marital relationships on gendered roles. as such, spouses become more like friends, and conversely, friends can also become more like spouses. (romance not a prerequisite. it has never been about romance anyway.)

given that mlc has repeatedly applied marital motifs to llh and dfs's characters in their joint narratives, this opens up a reading friendships as a marital tie. seeing marriage as a bridge for strangers to become family, marriage in mlc becomes a metaphor for the chosen commitment and mutual trust put in by strangers/friends (non-familial ties) into the becoming of family. the blurring of lines between marital ties and friendship encourages a genuine space of queer experience that goes beyond any pressure for strict labels - of sexuality, and relationships as romantic, sexual, etc etc.

(note: despite the borrowing of a feminist concept, I strongly hesitate to call mlc a feminist story. it's a whole discussion - or debate - on its own. nevertheless, it is definitely a gender-conscious story that lays foundation for a strong queer and egalitarian reading.)

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it is to be noted that it is intended - and also beneficial to take the confucian framework of relational ties beyond face value. the framework offers what it believed to be the most fundamental social relationship dynamics, and sees room for extension and matching to other kinds of relationships (all if not, most). a relationship such as teacher-student, which is outside of the five ties stated, can also mirror the affection of father-son ties, albeit not in a literal and identical way.

speaking of which. fdb and lxy/llh.

indeed they're known by others to be good friends. fdb thinks they're good friends too - insists on it, and puts his best efforts in keeping it that way. but does it really go both ways? if it does not, then can it really still be friendship? my humble take is that, ultimately - weighing in with llh's perspective - this is a relationship that is not so much based on trust, and rather, based on an innate affection that is only unique to family. (in this case, not blood/marital-based but one that was chosen and built aka lxy's relationship with sgd.) in other words, less of a friendship, more of a familial one.

it is a lot clearer considering their relationship from llh's point of view: some brat you never wanted in your life came barging in, and whether he was going to bring any positive effect to your life was secondary to the tranquility - which you have carved for yourself in the past decade - that is so integral to your personhood. no way. but the moment you hear that he's family? well, that changes the game completely. even before learning about fdb being sgd's son (then beginning to take initiative in showing greater acceptance), it is apparent in llh that there was an instinctive resonance with fdb as his shixiong's nephew. (eg. he remarked to his shifu's grave about how alike fdb is to himself.) this is unlike with dfs whom he had taken a much longer time to build trust with. you do not apply trust - aka the quality of friendships - to family. family is something deeper, more instinctive than that. if fdb was never family, I find it hard to imagine given llh's personality, that he would have let some brazen, bratty stranger intrude for that long. (boy invited himself to llh's home, sat himself down eating the owner's dinner and nosing in his cooking abilities!!! ily bb but that was uncalled for 😭)

of course there are many more layers in their relationship. there is a substantial degree of their history as (unwitting) teacher-disciple: fdb is still healthy and alive all thanks to the existence of lxy as a spiritual teacher role model in his life, regardless it being one-sided or not. there is also indeed some part of friendship in it, especially from fdb's point of view. he sees llh as a kindred spirit who he could enjoy a life of freedom with for life. but llh never reciprocates. he knew this was short-lived. and so ultimately, the hierarchical layer of their relationship overpowers the equal one, where llh's treatment of fdb as a nephew/小辈 younger family member and a disciple is the one that sealed the fate of their relationship.

if (blood-based) familial ties are irrelevant in jianghu, then the closest proxy to a father-son relationship in the martial world would be a teacher-disciple relationship. lxy and his shifu are a clear, indisputable example. for fdb and llh, their teacher-disciple tie is murkier and not consistently applied. they were also never ritualised as teacher-disciple, and thus are not teacher-disciple in any official capacity as far as confucian ideas are concerned. yet in crucial moments, it is invoked by llh as a card of authority over fdb to get out of sticky situations with fdb. and there was their final scene together: in a moment of sincerity, llh gives the approval to fdb as his disciple - then entrusting fdb with the secret manual of his techniques, up until his final letter in which fdb was recommended to dfs as a successor to his martial abilities.

in an imperial setting, this would have been the relationship of an emperor and his crown prince that straddles both ruler-subject and father-son ties aka a tag-team of disaster. the teacher has an obligation to nurture his disciple as a successor to himself, and love him like a son too. on the flipside, he holds the final power in their relationship - withholding knowledge and feelings from the younger one. they are only equals in a way a parent-child can be. they are only equals as much as the parent allows. and this is how fdb got left behind in the dust of llh's departure. he was the child treating his parent like a friend, supporting him emotionally and begging to be loved back the same way he loves his parent - but the parent had a lifetime way ahead of him and stayed out of his reach, physically and emotionally.

llh and fdb operate with the trapping of a friendship but have always been family in the core. llh had known that way before fdb did, just like everything else he had known and put out of fdb's reach. because. fdb did not have to know. fdb is different and will forge his own path. and that's a kind of love llh has for him that nobody understands (in fact not even fdb himself) - one that is on a different plane from friendships.

by repurposing the framework of relational ties, mlc showed that the essence of familial relationships aka its intimacy and closeness can be independent from biology and formalised rituals. and it is important to myself for stories to say that people can build close ties and deeply meaningful relationships even without being born or ritualised into any.

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then back to how these relational ties are inextricable from the conceptualisation of the 'self' in confucian worldview: the roles you play in these relationships are intended to define you. there is no 'self' independent from it. while the concept of a social, relational self is fully rooted in reality, being locked into social roles can be a painful way to live - a way that llh has experienced as lxy the sigu sect leader. so, in order for lxy/llh to realise a sense of self that exists outside the norms, it inevitably points to another way that requires a cut from these relationships. that is then the buddhist (or taoist) answer of looking past attachments to the world such as the confucian idea of relationships defining your being. only with a dissolution of a sense of 'self', can there be true liberation.

[defectivegembrain]

I hate when people seem to misunderstand Troy and Abed's relationship as being actually like what Vice Dean Laybourne tried to make them think it was. He didn't understand them, he understood just enough to present a simplified, stereotypical version of what they have. Like yes Abed was initially a little inconsiderate in his response to Troy, but honestly as an autistic person, I understand very well the frustration of having something planned out, being very focused on it, having an agreement with someone, and then they suddenly want to change it. People exaggerate how stubborn he was, he was literally about to give in before Laybourne manipulated him.

And he actually does that quite a lot. In the initial buildup of their friendship, he does things like take cues from Troy's behaviour and try to "mess with" him, because that's what Troy teaches him friends do. He's trying to connect on Troy's level. He plays basketball with him, engaging in interests he doesn't necessarily share, he tolerates Troy's competitiveness and lets him win the race to make him happy. It's Troy who has to get past the attitude that friends only do things for him and not the other way round.

And he does learn to be a good friend, but the idea that Abed doesn't show up for him just as much is bizarre. In Epidemiology, he's insistent that if only one of them survives, it should be Troy. He listens and supports him with the AC repair vs plumbing thing, and it is Troy who decides that he just wants to watch tv with him. When Troy goes to the AC repair school, Abed doesn't try to talk him out of it, even though he's devastated. He's upset when Troy and Britta get together, but he doesn't put that on Troy himself.

He listens to Troy about the impersonator thing, despite deep fears of being controlled, and honestly seems more concerned about their friendship than his own safety. He goes along with the body swap bit at a moment's notice, goes to a restaurant he previously said he couldn't go to, puts up with the waiter badmouthing one of his favourite movies, and breaks up with Britta for Troy. When he's so upset about Troy leaving that he hallucinates lava, he jumps into said lava in order to let him go.

And I especially hate when people, just like Laybourne, use the Inspector Spacetime thing to argue that their relationship is unequal. Like sorry, in other instances, Abed is more than willing to play the villain (Kickpuncher, Alien) or love interest (Kickpuncher) or sidekick (their shadow puppets) to Troy's hero. They do Bert and Ernie, who are equal partners. When they do Calvin and Hobbes, yes he's Calvin, but that's notably something only Troy has expressed an interest in him doing before.

Yeah Inspector Spacetime is a more frequent thing for them, but it's pretty clear that's a really special character for Abed. In Virtual Systems Analysis we can see him use the character to express how he's different from other people. Which, yeah, an autistic person connecting with what is essentially the Doctor...go figure.

Like, look at when he lists characters he thinks are like him: "Data or Johnny 5 or Mork or HAL or K.I.T.T. Or K9 or Woodstock and/or Snoopy. Spock goes without saying." None of those are human. Several robots. Most are not the main character. One is an antagonist. It's probably not often that Abed feels this deep a connection to a character who is undeniably the hero, and while not human, still shows human characteristics. And there's no way Troy is unaware of that.

And by the way, Troy never seems remotely unhappy about playing Constable Reggie until Laybourne talks him into it. And never again afterwards. In fact, when Abed is full on trying to act "normal" at Shirley's wedding rehearsal, Troy talks him into playing Inspector Spacetime...with this ridiculously tender look of love on his face.

It's just...it's a severe mischaracterisation of them both, articulated by a clearly manipulative character, and it bothers me when I see people fall for it.