#and you know the job is important to both of them

[imtherain]

Smeared Lipstick

Still on my Logan nonsense (thank god) and had a round of Patch!Logan feels. I know nothing about him other than what I saw in Deadpool and Wolverine, so sorry if I messed him up somehow.

This is for @likedovesinthewnd because she's the one who told me I should write it lol

Also shout out to @bpmiranda for posting the best/nastiest smut fics that inspired me to go ham and not hold back for once. If you need some more Logan, read mine first but she's got a lot more!

Warnings: Casino, basically pure smut with only a sprinkle of plot, oral (male receiving), some light conartistry, mutant reader, bathroom smut, fingering (both receiving because I'm a feminist lol), sugar daddy but only kinda, Patch!Logan, a touch of 'getting caught', and probably some other stuff. Let me know if I missed anything important.

Word Count: 3473 (don't look at me)

[More Logan]

[Main Master List]

“Hit me,” 

The dealer passed Logan another card and he concealed his joy easily. He’d hit 20 for the third time at this table. Lady Luck always on his side.

“You win again, sir,” The dealer said, pushing the new stack chips across the table to him.

“I’m afraid it’s time we close this table, sir,” Your voice always soothed something in him. You’d been working at this particular casino for a few months, and so, Logan always found himself at your tables. No one suspected the truth of why you both were there.

“Pity, I was doing so well,” Logan looked up at you with his one good eye, drinking in the way your glittery red dress hugged every single one of your edges just right. How your hair was done up with sparkly bits to match the shine on your dress. How your lipstick was the exact shade of red as your dress.

You looked good enough to eat, if he were being honest.

“I’m sure I can find you somewhere else to play,” You smile, half customer service, half something naughty.  Logan put the cigar he’d been chewing on away into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d find himself with something better to put in his mouth shortly.

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Logan stood, leaving his chips all on the table. “Cash those into my account,” This was directed at the dealer who was just cleaning up his station.

“Please, Mr. Locken,” You urged the dealer. He was a clever young man, one of your best dealers. He’d caught three different cheaters in his time at the casino, and you were impressed that he was so good at catching them. Even the team upstairs, who’s entire job it was to catch cheating, had missed one of the three Locken had spotted.

“Of course, Miss Y/N,” Locken replied, gathering Logan’s chips.

“Thank you,” You said, taking Logan’s arm and leading him away. 

Logan had been staring at the skin exposed that showed over the slinky material of your dress. You knew poor Locken likely knew exactly what you and Mr. Logan were about to get up to. Locken didn’t really want to know, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Mr. Logan, the high roller with an eye patch, were an item. Most of the staff knew, and the rest likely suspected.

But Mr. Logan, being a high roller, got away with all kinds of things. Fucking the floor manager was hardly a big deal or a surprise at that point.

“And where are you taking me, Miss Y/N,” Logan mocked Locken’s tone and you smacked his chest with one hand. “As I recall, there aren’t any tables this way, and the hotel is the other direction too,” 

“I was thinking you needed a little more luck,” You told him. “I heard that another big fish was headed in to drop some cash, and he’s luckier than most who walk through the door.” There was something about you that no one in the building, other than Logan, knew about you… and that was that you were a mutant who could control a person’s luck. You could also see how lucky someone was, just by touching them. It came in all kinds of handy working in a casino, and extra handy where Logan was involved. The two of you having a sort of arrangement in regards to luck.

“What did you have in mind for me?” Logan mused as you led him down another hallway and into a single stall bathroom. It was one of the large single stall bathrooms, where several people could use the two sinks and spacious counter during a wedding or other event, usually to get ready. This particular bathroom was out of the way of the main space though, less likely to get interrupted.

“Lock the door,” You told him with a saucy smirk. 

You and Logan had met originally in a different casino, and he’d figured out that his string of bad luck had been tied to you. He thought, originally, that it was because he’d gotten so distracted by you that he’d lost his edge. You knew it was because you’d turned all his luck to bad and all your own luck to good, hoping to clean house well enough to eat for the next month.

“Yes, ma’am,” Logan turned to lock the door and when he turned back, you were sitting on the counter, skirt hiked up to your knees. Logan took a deep breath through his nose that quickly dissolved into a growl of pleasure as he smelled your arousal. “Never will get over how good you smell, honey,” He stepped between your thighs and tipped your chin up so that you were looking at him.

“Only for you baby,” You purred back, leaning up so your breath brushed his lips sensually.

“No kissing,” Logan reminded you, and you pouted, but you knew the deal. After he’d found you out as a mutant, you’d both struck a deal. You would give him better luck, and he'd take good care of you, effectively becoming your sugar daddy. Only, if you called him ‘daddy’ he’d bend you over his knee, so you saved that for special occasions. 

“Please?” You begged, knowing that was the only line left in the sand between you. You’d done everything else, had sex in every direction you could think of. But no kissing. Never kissing.

You didn’t like it, but it was easy enough to complain around.

“You know the rules,” Logan growled softly. He ran his tongue along the exposed skin at your throat and you moaned. He chuckled, feeling your vibrations against his tongue.

“Rules are made to be broken, I thought?” You pressed as he stepped forward to bump the hardness in his pants against you. Your hips moved against him as if there was ever any question to what was going on between you.

“I can walk away,” Logan warned and you whined, but nodded to tell him you’d stop asking. “Good girl,” 

“Wait,” You said, suddenly having a sordid idea. Logan rocked backwards on his heel far enough to peer questioningly into your face. “Let me take care of you this time,” 

“You wanna take care of me?” Logan asked skeptically. You reached down to palm him through his slacks. His eye fluttered closed at the contact and he had to brace himself on the counter on either side of you.

“Please, baby? Since you won’t let me kiss you, at least let me taste you?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he knew he was a sucker for giving in to you anytime you did that. Hell, he’d kill a man no questions asked, if you batted your lashes at him.

“Get to it then,” He moved back only far enough to let you slide off the counter and to your knees. You made short work of undoing his belt and pants. You pulled his slacks and boxers down just far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He was already rock hard and leaking for you when you cooed happily and kitten licked the warm tip of him.

He had to grip the counter again to remain in control of himself. You smirked as you did it again, tasting the salty tang of his precum before you wrapped your lips around just the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” Logan grunted, trying his best not to slam his dick straight down your throat. He knew you could take it, but he wanted to let you get there on your own.

“Want me to stop?” You pause only long enough to ask before you licked a long stripe up the underside of him, tracing the thick vein there from balls to tip.

“Don’t you dare,” Logan pants, cursing again when you go back to the small licks along the very tip of his cock. You always seemed to know exactly how to drive him out of his mind. Maybe that was why he’d give you anything you wanted. Diamonds, jewelry, gold, silver, hotel rooms, a car if you asked for it… He’d give you anything his money could buy. 

Anything but the heart he was pretty sure you weren’t even aware you’d already stolen.

You pressed a small kiss to his angry red tip before sticking out your tongue and sliding him into the warmth of your mouth.

Logan cursed again, his hips bucking once before he could stop himself. You adjusted your knees on the hard tile floor, loosened your jaw, and slid your hands lovingly around his thighs.

With your eyes fluttering softly and the end of his dick in your mouth, Logan was surprised he didn’t cum right there on your tongue.

You looked up at him and gave a slight nod, telling him you were ready for him to take control if he wanted it. Logan felt his heart rate spike as the animal in him begged to claim you. If he wasn’t careful he’d bury his fist in your hair and throat fuck you until you couldn’t speak. But he’d promised to be careful when you were at work, because you needed to look nice for the casino.

When Logan didn’t immediately take over, you leaned forward, taking more and more of him into your mouth, slowly, until he just barely touched the back of your throat. Your throat constricted on a gag and the feeling of your throat closing was all it took for the animal inside him to break free.

Logan’s strong hand cradled the back of your head, trying to avoid pulling out the glittery baubles you’d put there this morning before he’d driven you to work. You leaned back into his palm, trying to ease the sensation in your throat, and you got relief for about two beats before that same careful hand pulled you back along him until your nose was pressed flush with the rough hair at his base.

You knew it was his turn to have his fun now, and you couldn’t help but grin for a moment before you remembered how hard it was to breathe around the girth of his cock.

Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs as you focused on breathing while he jerked his hips. The drag of his cock along your tongue made heat pool in your stomach as he abused your throat over and over again.

Meanwhile, Logan was making the most guttural noises while he used your throat. His grunting and groaning echoing in the empty bathroom, occasionally punctuated by a soft curse or two when your throat squeezed him just right. All paired with the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

But as much as you’d love to let him stay there in your mouth until he came, you needed a break. You reached up and tapped on his stomach, your agreed sign that you needed air. 

Instantly, Logan pulled back and caught your eyes with his one good one.

“You alright?” He asked and you nodded with a slight cough.

“Just needed to catch my breath,” You admitted. “I’m out of practice,” 

“I know one way to fix that,” Logan said with a cheeky grin.

“Give me five more seconds,” You said, adjusting on your knees again. You took a second to pull his slacks down to his knees. You lean in and give some attention to each of his beefy thighs, kissing the strong muscles and nibbling the soft flesh.

“Don’t tease me,” Logan grumbled, his hand coming back to your head. “Finish what you started,” 

“Yes, sir,” You batted your lashes up at him and his cock twitched next to your face. You took another moment to lick the side of him, rubbing his length against your face, showcasing just how long he was compared to your head. It was a wonder you could fit him all down your throat.

You kissed the side of his dick a few times, preparing you both for another round, and with one last kitten lick to his slit, his dick slid back into your throat.

The second time was always easier for you, and you’re always happy to help when it means he would let out those grunting noises you love so much.

And you knew exactly what would make him whine for you too.

You slid your hands up and around the back of his thighs until you could grip both of his taught buttcheeks in your hand. This distracted him enough from his movements that you were able to swallow around his tip and make him groan again. You bobbed your head as you kneaded his flesh and he got lost in the sensation the exact same way you did when he was face down between your legs. And just like he always did, you carefully slid a finger into his waiting hole.

The noise Logan makes is something you wished you could bottle up for a rainy day. It’s somewhere near a whine and too gravelly to be a whimper. You withdraw only long enough to add some moisture to your digits before working yourself back into him, stroking at that spot deep inside that makes his thighs tense and his knees shake.

Having discovered how stroking him like this made him feel, you understood why he liked to finger-fuck you so much. Making him experience such pleasure, pleasure that only you have brought him? Heaven. Heaven on earth, about to cum down your throat.

Logan never lasted long with your fingers in his ass.

You hold your breath while he comes undone in your mouth, bucking his hips against the swirling of your tongue. You try to swallow it all, but it’s difficult when he’s moving still, so you just hold on until he’s pumped every last drop into your mouth.

Before he can be overstimulated too much, he pulls your hand away from him and slides himself from your soft mouth.

“Fuck, baby, thought you were going to suck me dry for a second there,” 

“I would if you’d let me,” You smiled up at him. He reached down and gently rubbed his thumb under your bottom lip, catching a drip of his cum that you hadn’t managed to swallow. At first you thought he’d press it into your mouth, but instead he brought it to his own and you felt your face flame with unexpected heat.

“Maybe next time sweetheart,” Logan helped you to your feet before adjusting himself and pulling up his slacks.

“Wait, you’ve got lipstick all over,” You tried to stop him from tucking himself away hoping you could clean him up properly, but he just chuckled and did up his pants.

“Something to remember you by,” He teased and you rolled your eyes before turning to the mirror to see the state of your own face. It was about what you’d figured but also you didn’t mind in the slightest.

Your red lipstick was smeared all across your cheek, your eyes were wet so your eyeshadow had mostly rubbed off, but luckily your eyeliner had stayed put. You wore super waterproof eyeliner for that reason after all. There was still some of the sticky release of Logan’s painted on your lips and tongue from where you’d failed to swallow it all.

“Look at that,” You mused. “You smeared my lipstick,” Logan chuckled at that, turning you around so that he could see.

“Seems so,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. He gently took your chin and held you steady while he soiled the white silk with your red lipstick and the remains of his cum. After fucking your throat like that, you almost forgot he could be gentle too.

You liked it when he was gentle.

When Logan was satisfied with his work, he put his handkerchief back in his pocket and leaned down to kiss your cheek, you froze when you felt his lips at the edge of yours. Almost a kiss. 

But he knew better than that. 

You both did.

You whined softly for him, wanting more, but you also needed to get back to work.

“Turn around for me,” Logan said. You raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked, gasping when he pressed himself against your ass.

“Logan,” You chided. “I need to head back,” 

“Just give me a minute to return the favor,” Logan was smirking at you over your shoulder as you watched him in the mirror. “I promise I won’t smear your lipstick this time,” You bit your lip at the thought of him getting you off here too.

“I really should be getting back,” You tried to say, but it was half hearted at best. He smacked your ass and you whimpered at him, terribly needy and terribly turned on.

“Spread your legs for me and lift your skirt,” He commanded against the shell of your ear. “Now,” You jumped at the authority in his voice and moved to do as he asked. You hoisted your skirt up to your hips and let your legs shift apart so that he had room to slide his knee between your thighs.

You gasped as he bounced his leg into your sensitive folds.

“I’ll repay you properly when we get home tonight, but until then,” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck. “Let me make my baby feel good,” You could only nod as he reached down and slid his hand into your already soaked panties.

“Logan,” You moaned as his finger traced circles around your bud. “That feels so good,” 

“Good,” He nibbled on your earlobe. “Just relax,” 

You were about to give in entirely when the handle to the bathroom jiggled and it reminded you all at once that you were still at work.

“Fuck… Logan…” You tried to stop him, but he just dipped his fingers deeper and you mewled instead.

“Don’t worry about that, focus on me and what I’m doing,” Logan purred. The handle rattled again and this time you heard someone curse about the bathroom being occupied too long.

You jumped when the person outside banged on the door.

“Find another bathroom, bub!” Logan growled loudly as he kicked the door angrily in return. Another curse from outside the door and Logan slowed his movements until he couldn’t hear the person outside anymore. “Now where were we?”

You were gripping his arm, which was wrapped around your waist to keep you in place.

“I don’t even remember,” You admitted with a laugh, which shifted into a moan as he moved his fingers against you again and all at once you remembered. “Fuck,” You moaned.

“That’s it,” He sped up his fingers, watching your face in the mirror as your closed your eyes in pleasure. “Come on, baby, give it to me,” He grunted against your shoulder, his teeth teasing your skin.

It didn’t take much more for you to cum around his fingers, fluttering and shaking in his arms as he held you up.

“That’s it pretty girl, that’s it,” Logan purrs against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “That’s my pretty girl,” 

You turned, wanting to kiss him, to thank him for this, but you remembered his rule, so instead you pressed your forehead into his jaw and whined at him.

“I really do need to get back to work,” You whisper. “And you need to go make enough money for that trip we’ve been talking about,” 

“Yes ma’am,” Logan chuckled in your ear as he finally pulled his fingers out of the tight embrace of your cunt. You groaned at the loss of him, but hummed in pleasure when you watched him lick his fingers clean. “Need me to carry you to your desk?” He teased.

“Oh shush,” You stood and adjusted yourself. “I was just enjoying the moment for a little longer,” 

“Could always play hooky and use your key to get us into a room upstairs,” Logan said, like he was nothing but serious. You shove him playfully.

“Yeah, and then I’ll get fired again,” You chided. “We’re going to run out of good casinos if we keep doing that,” 

“So?” He pressed his lips to your temple. “Maybe when we run out of casinos, I’ll make an honest woman out of you,” This makes you pause. Could he be serious? 

“Only once we’ve run out?” You asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“And if we get married, I’ll have to kiss you, won’t I?” It sounded almost like a tease, but there was nothing but joy and mirth in his eye.

And maybe, just maybe, love was sparkling in there too.

[More Logan]

[Main Master List]

[tyrantisterror]

Wherefore Art Thou Clownfucker?

A while back I made a post explaining why vampires appeal to me, and while it was mostly in a more general sense, there was a specific focus on why I find them, you know, hot. And it was that was in part because I had recently discovered that I'm apparently surrounded by Werewolf fuckers on here, much to my dismay as a Vampire fucker. It's like being the only goth kid at a rockabilly concert or something. I felt defensive, is the point! I needed to go to bat (heh) for my pale ladies (and Astarion.... and Spike)!

And now, because Muncher compels me to do so, I'm doing the same for Clowns. My other pale ladies.

Now, keep in mind the fact that I'm a monsterfucker first and foremost, and that my clownfuckery is really more derived from my monsterfuckery. I imagine the middle section of the Clownfucker/Monsterfucker diagram is pretty big, but I also know there are some clownfuckers who are very much NOT monsterfuckers, and vice versa. This is not the case for vampirefuckers, who are nestled firmly within the monsterfucker circle, because while all vampires are monsters, not all clowns are monsters. I bring this up because while I'm gonna try to explain clownfuckery on its own terms, there is likely going to be some monsterfucker bias in my explanations and defense. That's just how it is on this bitch of an earth!

I'm gonna get real pretentious here and talk about the historic role of clowns for a moment. From Comedia del Arte harlequins to medieval court Jesters, the clown's role has always been that of Comic Relief. They are, simply put, here to be tonally dissonant - when everyone else is serious and dramatic, a clown comes in as this weird, silly, incongruously hilarious element that contrasts the gravity of everything around them. "Relief" is really the key word here - a clown's job is to provide levity when otherwise there would be none. When everything is dark, they provide a little light.

That's the core emotional appeal of clownfucking - a clown is/should be someone who can make you smile when you need it the most. Kingdom's at war, family's fighting, your life's in shambles? The clown will make you laugh. Everything feels dark and gloomy and depressing? Here comes a silly little goofball wearing bright, clashing colors and jingling with each step because they're covered in bells, and all they want to do is tell jokes until you start laughing. Clowns are, by intent, that sweet sweet hit of dopamine personified.

Clowns are here to make you smile.

Another important historical detail about clowns is their unique place in the hierarchy of society - namely, being entirely outside of it. A jester was in some respects the lowest person on the totem pole, a fool that had power over no one and nothing, living to be laughed at. Yet, because they had no power over anyone, it was generally poor taste to take offense to anything a jester said, which meant they could talk more freely than anyone else - when everyone else acts like a butt-kissing sycophant, a jester is free to talk shit and speak their mind.

The traditional attire and appearance of clowns plays into both of these traits: the bright, gaudy clothing and makeup is silly, yes, but it's also a sign that the clown does not give a single shit about fashion and other social norms. A clown is, by nature, an anomaly, a misfit, a rebel.

Nowadays we have another word for people with that attitude. Clowns are punk.

Weird makeup, crayola red hair, patchwork clothes...

I would say the very fact that "normal" people look at clownfucking as some sort of inexplicable fetish is, in fact, part of the appeal. It's a form of xenophilia, of attraction to things that are different and othered, a love for outsiders and misfits and oddballs. To fuck a clown is to show love and adoration for something outside of the realm of what is socially acceptable - something silly, goofy, and weird, yet also often harmless. After all, a clown's main purpose is to make you smile.

That's not to say that clowns have to be harmless to be attractive, mind you. Tons of people, many much smarter than I, have talked about the cultural shift of our perception of clowns that began somewhere in the 1980's. Clowns went from being viewed as genuinely fun and cute to primarily being figures of fear and terror - if a clown shows up in modern media, even if it's innocuous, there will always be at least one character who vocally talks about how creepy they think clowns are.

That may in part be due to the fact that clowns have such a benign mission statement - a lot of people, especially nowadays, do not trust a person who claims they just want to make others happy. Anyone who acts like that MUST be up to something - there must be something nefarious going on, some evil plan, some lurking danger.

Which is where you REALLY bring the monsterfuckers in.

You really don't need to do that much with a clown's design to push it firmly into monster territory - "a pale person with sharp teeth" is the bare minimum it takes to make a vampire, after all (and even the pale part can be downplayed).

And a clown's dedication to making things "funny" can make for a very enjoyably-scary persona for a monster - hell, half the appeal of the Addams Family is that they're a bunch of freakish inhuman monsters who react to a bunch of scary shit with absolute delight and adoration. Again, the tonal dissonance element is at play here, albeit in a different way - even when Clowns are the darkness in your world, they still bring light in the sense that they view it that darkness as funny in of itself.

(hell, the word "harlequin" means "five horns," and may be rooted in folkloric monsters like Herne the Hunter depending on who you ask, so in a way clowns have always been monster-coded)

I think all of this is pretty well exemplified in the current Patron Saint of Clownfuckers, the goddess of Clownfuckery if you will, Harley Quinn. Hailing from a story whose main setting is such a Gothic Horror-inspired nightmarish shithole of a city that it's literally called Gotham, surrounded by characters who are at least 60% gothic horror archetypes by volume, opposed by a hero who literally dresses like a Dracula, it is inarguable that Harley Quinn is surrounded by darkness that's both literal and figurative.

But she's always smiling, and not in an ironic way.

Harley Quinn suffers intense abuse, she's drawn into wicked schemes, and in the way of most modern clowns, she causes no small amount of mayhem and suffering herself. But even at her darkest, she's always smiling, always trying to find the bright side.

She's a rebel, she's a punk. Almost everyone thinks she's beneath them. Almost all of those people get proven they're wrong. In a world full of tyrannical hierarchies, she steps outside of them.

She's an outsider, a misfit, an oddball. And she wants to make you smile.

I think you can probably see the appeal of that.

[siriusly-sapphic]

I need need need need need to talk about the way that Press Secretary!CJ Cregg would get into so many shouting matches with Chief of Staff!CJ Cregg if they had to work together because I love that about her character so much. It's... she's so idealistic when she's Press Secretary. She can't fathom a father being ashamed of his son for being gay even after the son is dead, even though she damn well knows how realistic that is. She yells at Leo and at Toby and then at Nancy until she's crying in Women of Qumar. She removes half the seats in the press room to make a damn point when the media companies don't do what she'd like them to and Leo just has to deal with that.

As Chief of Staff, she and Leo share that quality of being able to put what the job is an needs of them above what their own agendas and moral compasses might tell them. Press Secretary!CJ would've run into very similar problems dealing with CJ as Chief of Staff that she did with Leo as Chief of Staff. Press Secretary!CJ would not have argued so strongly in favor of "the President should just sign the ban on gay marriage to pass the budget, we're running a White House here" and, while Chief of Staff!CJ would never have done so, Press Secretary!CJ would've come dangerously close to leaking the shuttle story before Toby got a chance to, she might've done it even. She certainly would've raised hell at Chief of Staff!CJ for refusing to do anything about it herself.

And I just love how that's possible within the same character. Cause she doesn't really change. Her ideals and her opinions don't change. She vehemently states that she thinks Bartlet is in the wrong when it comes to the shuttle thing, for example. But she's in a different position! She has a different job, and it's no longer to advice the Chief of Staff and champion her own causes to a degree of possibility, it's no longer being just one part of the bigger administration. Her job has become running the entire West Wing, in the midst of half her senior staff leaving and her President needing to be put to bed on time. Her job has become preserving the President's legacy and running his White House, and making sure that works out even when that includes doing things she personally would not agree with. And I absolutely love how both that idealism and that intense sense of duty and do what you have to do can be so important to the character.

[ploshansky]

i've always found it particularly insulting when people insist that i'll have kids one day because i've always been pretty quick to divulge that childbirth is literally my greatest fear. i'm scared of the process, the mental and physical toll, the pain, the very real possibility of complications, the kid itself. like i've had nightmares where i wake up sobbing because either i had kids and i didn't want them, or i was pregnant and i didn't want to be. when people egg on the idea of me having kids it feels like they're telling me "mark my words you're going to be the first one buried alive" or "oh she's sooo going to have both her hands sawed off one day." normally i got the whole "well it's different when it's your kid," or of course, "you'll change your mind." okay, sure. stranger things have happened. allow me to present another angle: i know in my heart of hearts that i am not willing to be a parent.

i have very little patience. i hold grudges. i am very self-involved. i am somehow both flighty and steadfast in my ways. i can barely handle my own body and mind, let alone worry about a child's mental and physical state. i'll be the first person to say that moms are superheroes and i will forever kiss the ground that they walk on, but i'm not interested in making the sacrifices my mother made just for me to be a snotty teenager in return. "but you're so good with kids!" yeah, because i'm just playing with them. i'm not making sure they eat, cleaning their poop and boogers and vomit, paying for doctor's visits, etc. none of that matters though. i could be patient, forgiving, selfless, go-with-the-flow, organized, mentally stable, etc. the important thing here is that i don't want to. that should negate every single motherly quality that i do or don't possess.

for some reason this explanation (that i thought was actually pretty solid, but silly me) is always taken as a sort of bashful "o how nice it would be to partake in motherhood..... alas, i am simply unfit......." spiel where i paint motherhood as this far-off concept that i could only wish to participate in. usually i'm met with "nooo don't say that you would make an amazing mother!" but i'm literally telling you outright: not only would i be an awful parent, i have no interest in being one, and i certainly wouldn't want to put a child in the position of having a parent that's not 101% committed to the job. i get that moms make a lot of sacrifices, and if push came to shove, yeah i'd probably bite the bullet and make those sacrifices. but i would harbor resentment, and that doesn't do any good for either of us. i don't want a kid mainly because it scares me, but it would be so fucking unfair to a kid to have me as a mother.

and re: the whole "what if your husband wants kids?" thing–i do not want to be in a relationship where a baby is the only thing holding us together, much less the concept of a baby.

stop telling your teenage daughters who say they don't want kids that they'll change their mind

[pyroisamaniac]

I went on a small The Magnus Archives binge today, and I've watched episodes 160-167.

(Big spoilers ahead)

I am incredibly happy with the direction season 5 is going with so far. It's a lot more beautifully calm than I was expecting. The story still does an amazing job describing what the victims of the fear entities are experiencing through Jon's statements, but the way the fears are unable to hurt Jon and Martin, and how vivid and creative the writing is, I can't help but appreciate each "statement" as if it was a beautiful form of horrific poetry. I'm sure that I will certainly be scared again down the line, but it's been really fun seeing this feel almost like some cosmic horror road trip.

And I am incredibly happy with the amount of importance Martin's role in the story has been given. There were so many things about Martin I wasn't expecting while watching the show, but now that I am here, I can really appreciate how his character arc built up to this. I was expecting a side role, or tragedy to claim his life, but I'm so, so happy I was wrong.

And Jon and Martin's relationship is incredibly, amazingly sweet. I was uncertain if a relationship between them both could ever even work or start! They were both constantly being confronted by the fears, I imagined the stress would be too much for them to properly connect, or that one of them would end up tragically dead or transformed beyond recognition, but against everything, they managed to come together in a really beautiful way. I feel like it's really narrativly relevant, too. Jon rescued Martin from the lonely, and let him know he was there, and now Martin is the one supporting and working alongside Jon in the apocalyptic hellscape, and Jon himself says that Martin is the reason he is able to persist despite the terror. How loneliness can be incredibly hard to deal with if you don't have connections to help ground you.

And Jon saying "I love you" is sweet. 💕 Helen coming by and saying they're an adorable couple is sweet. 💕 It's insane and incredible that they started and are maintaining a really sweet relationship in the middle of an apocalypse.

[regency-monster-love]

Part 7 of Colin and Susannah | Master post

Male werewolf x female human | Regency era | NSFW: hand jobs, semi-public sex (not caught), references to knotting, references to biting (vague)

Colin and Susannah's wedding date was fast approaching, and there was an important matter for them to discuss before then. Colin had gotten his pack's assistance once again to distract her parents and let him steal her away for a few minutes of privacy to talk. They were sitting together in the same study where he had proposed, the door closed.

He picked up his fiancé's hand. “You have heard me say that we are mates. Do you know what that entails?” he asked carefully.

She gazed into his golden eyes. They always seemed to have a faint glow to them, but at times their light burned with more intensity, as they were now. It always set off a fluttery sort of warmth within her when his eyes looked like this. She swallowed. “Well. I know it's a sort of bond that some werewolves share with their spouses, but not all.”

He nodded. “That's right. The bond can only form if both parties feel love for each other.”

She smiled softly. “Like you and I.”

His eyes warmed with his own smile. “Yes, butterfly.” 

“Even if only one of us is a werewolf?”

“Even so.” He paused. “But love is not enough. There is something else that must occur to fully bond a pair as mates.”

Her brows lifted, curious and waiting for him to tell her. He shifted slightly closer to her on the settee.

“The soul connection of a mated pair must be expressed as a bodily connection as well,” he said slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on her face for her reaction. “They—we—would need to lie together as a husband and wife do, and we would need to bite each other. And I would be in my wolf form while this occurs.”

Her eyebrows had climbed even higher. “Oh. I see,” was all she said.

He smelt no fear coming off her, but could not read her expression. “Would you…permit that?”

“I think I…would like it,” she admitted.

The werewolf felt a rush of relief—and then the scent of her desire hit him. She truly would like it—the thought alone was arousing her! The knowledge of that aroused him as well, and he pressed himself even closer to her. “Do you know how we will lie together? What I will do to you?”

His voice had become hoarser, his gaze more piercing, and both somehow contributed to the increasing agitation she felt in the pit of her belly. “I know the generalities, at least for humans,” she said, and was surprised to hear that her own voice sounded more hoarse as well.

“It is not very different for werewolves.” He pressed his hand onto a bulge at the front of his trousers. “This part of me will fit into your body—”

“Here.” She finished his sentence and pressed her hand between her own legs, grown bold by his words, his voice, and that alluring fire in his eyes. A jolt of pleasure met the touch of her hand, and she wriggled her hips in an unconscious effort to induce even more.

He groaned watching her. “Yes, in your quim. I'll stick my cock in your quim.”

His vulgar bluntness increased her desire further. “Oh Colin,” she whimpered.

He threw his arms around her shoulders to pull her close. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and he dropped his head to angle his mouth against hers and kiss his mate for the first time in his life.

The sensation of the kiss enlivened him. It was like the feeling of transforming on a full moon, a feeling of release and rightness, of becoming something closer to whole. His instincts told him what else to do to truly become whole—mount her, knot her, bite her—but for now, this was already so much more alive than he'd ever felt before.

Susannah was perhaps even more overwhelmed than he, for just a minute ago she had never kissed anyone, and now she was feeling her mate's tongue sweeping against hers, his large hands running over her back and arms, his thigh pressed against her's, all of it unfamiliar and stunning.

Colin's kisses drifted lower, and when he reached the spot where her neck met her shoulder, her breath caught at the burst of pleasure his lips set off there. “This is where I will bite you,” Colin rasped against her skin, mouthing at the sensitive spot with just the faintest scrape of his wicked teeth. She gasped and twisted in his arms, mindlessly torn between wanting to get away from the overwhelming pleasure and wanting more of it.

“I can smell your desire. You're wet,” Colin said in a dark tone that seemed to rumble down her spine to settle between her hips with a pulsing heat that obliterated any mortification she might have felt from his words. Perhaps the mating bond was making her mad as well, but if it was, she did not care.

“Yes. Please,” she pleaded, knowing she needed something more or she should burst.

“You need never beg for me, darling mate,” he purred, and tugged up one side of her skirts, before his hand disappeared underneath.

He found where she was wet, swirling his fingertips through it, making her moan at the riotous sensations it set off in her body. One of his fingers dipped, feeling as though it was starting to sink into her, but he went no further, merely held it at her entrance while his thumb flicked against the sensitive bud at the top of her slit, making her throb with want.

“There is one more thing I will do to seal our mating bond,” he murmured in her ear. “I will spill my seed in your cunt, then knot you to lock it inside.”

“Knot me?” she hiccuped, nearly at her peak already from his decadent caresses and lewd language.

“A bulge at the base of my cock. Can I show you?”

“Yes, show me,” she pleaded.

He groaned in approval at her eagerness and quickly freed his cock from his trousers, watching Susannah's eyes widen as she stared down at it, and breathing in the scent of her arousal that had surged. But a hint of fear prickled at the edges of it now as well. “It's too big, isn’t it?” she asked.

“No, butterfly,” he cooed, caressing her folds soothingly. “You're my mate, built to take me.” No need to tell her that it would be even larger when he was a wolf. His hand cupped his knot, which also wasn’t at its full size; that wouldn’t happen until it was inside her. “You'll be able to take my knot as well. I'll fill you perfectly, mate.”

“Can I touch it?”

“Please.” Her touch was tentative at first, but he showed her how to pump him, restoring her eager lust, and soon both of them were feverishly stroking each other while they kissed deeply once more. Colin could scarcely believe how good Susannah's warm, wet cunt felt on his fingers, and imagined how much better it was going to be to sink his cock into that same slick heat. It made his knot throb and swell just to think of it.

“We will be so close when we are knotted, Susannah,” he panted. “It will tie our bodies together for some time. Can you imagine that? Having me joined with you, unable to separate, fully being one?”

“Yes,” she moaned, squeezing his cock tighter in her fist, “I want that!”

“Soon, butterfly. Soon I'll mate you the way you need.” He mouthed at that spot on her neck again, relishing the way it made her shudder and gush onto his hand. “You need me, don't you, little mate? Need this cock inside you, need my teeth in your flesh?”

“Oh God, Colin, yes, yes!” she sobbed. “Need your cock and your bite!”

“Oh fuck,” he growled. It took all his restraint not to pull her onto his cock this instant. It was aching to be buried in her, red and angry and throbbing with primal need.

He plunged a finger inside her instead, making her cry out, before she bit down on her lip and darted her widened eyes toward the door. But even though there was an undercurrent of fear in her scent at that moment, the spice of her arousal had thickened to an even greater degree.

Colin pumped his finger in and out of her cunt and gave her a wicked smile. “It excites you, the possibility that we will be caught doing this.”

She only whimpered in response. What was wrong with her, that something so perverse and dangerous should excite her? But she could not deny that it did, most ardently. That thrill, combined with the movements of Colin's clever fingers on and in her, were rushing her towards a shining precipice of ecstasy, and then suddenly, something burst inside her and she soared over that peak, clutching tight to Colin as she fell through the air as though weightless. She had no idea if she made any sound, because Colin’s mouth was on hers again, his tongue undulating like the waves in her cunt.

Her climax was intoxicating to him. He wanted to drink up her pleasure, swallow every wanton cry she made into his own throat to relish, let her scent seep in and saturate every cell of his body so it would become a part of him. Her hands still moved against him, one rubbing his knot while the other tugged on his shaft, the rhythm faltering and jerky now, but the touch still heated, and before he could warn her, his own climax ripped into him. He moaned into her mouth as his seed barreled up his cock and shot from its tip, covering his human’s sweet little hands in its creamy whiteness.

They slumped against each other, panting for a few moments while they recovered. Colin huffed out a short laughing sort of breath. “This was not my intention in getting you alone, I assure you,” he told her.

She smiled. “I would not blame you if it was, for it was most agreeable.” Then she flushed, suddenly conscious of how improper this all had been, especially for her. “You do not think less of me when I say I enjoyed it, do you?”

“Of course not! I am delighted to know that my mate enjoys my touch.” He stroked his wet fingers over the inside of her thigh, making her shiver, then withdrew his hand. “I am already desirous of giving you even more of it. But we have been away too long as it is. Your parents will notice you are gone.”

They quickly cleaned up as best they could, then Colin sent Susannah out ahead of them, to not arouse suspicion by returning together. He did not tell her that it was only her parents’ suspicion they could avoid, because every werewolf out there would smell what they had done together. He did not want to embarrass her with that knowledge.

When he returned to the drawing room by himself, a couple minutes after Susannah, she was speaking to her parents as if nothing had happened, and did not even look at him. But his packmates shot him secret smirks thanks to the story that his scent, and hers, clearly told them. He didn't mind it. He was proud to have Susannah's scent clinging to him, and his on her, telling everyone that she was claimed, that she was his mate.

Or, at least, very nearly so. Mount her, knot her, bite her. Then she would fully be his. At last.

~ 🐺🎩 ~

End of part 7 of Colin and Susannah

Read all of my Regency monster ficlets and snippets at the tag #my writing.

[crescent--moons]

Sooo I finished Veilguard a week ago already but have been replaying and stewing on all the feels. I'm at the point where I need to dump some of my personal thoughts and feelings in no particular order and in a list format because that's just how my brain works lol

(Putting them under the cut for spoilers)

- I will protect Bellara at all costs (her personal quest is so important to me)

- Crows and Shadow Dragons factions are peak

- Seeing my Inky again gave me so much nostalgia I almost cried

- The chemistry between Lucanis x Shadow Dragon Rook x Neve is immaculate (bonding over "our day job is killing Venatori" is hilarious and everything I wanted)

- The dynamic between Lucanis x Crow Rook x Viago x Teia has my whole entire heart

- "Illario you idiot" is an understatement

- Taash and Lucanis banter made me laugh so hard I busted a lung I fear

- Emmrich and Manfred are absolutely delightful

- The gasps I gasped when Zara called Illario Amatus and Manfred spoke his first word

- Spite. Is. My favourite.

- The realization that Varric was dead all along shattered my heart

- The character creator is great (wishing for more hair options though)

- Rivain's combat music slaps

- Solas needs both a good scramble and a big hug

- Crow Rook 🤝 Viago "The Crows rule Antiva and Treviso will be free" (I love them)

- All the lore reveals gave both my Rook and I an existential crisis

- The game could have used a bit more faction recognition in certain scenes/dialogs but alas

- The level design is so good and the environments are gorgeous

- Spellblade and Evoker are so much fun

- The animations in certain cutscenes are so well done I was in awe

- I ugly cried for 1 whole hour after I finished the game (worth it)

- Davrin and Lucanis bickering half the time is the dynamic I didn't know I needed

- Harding and Taash are so cute together

- Seeing Dorian (again) and Maevaris (for the first time) in game was awesome

- Evka and Antoine are adorable

- Spending time petting cats and dogs in Minrathous and Treviso instead of getting on with quests is the DA experience I was looking for

- Lucanis Dellamorte has bewitched me body and soul (his story arc and romance was tailored made for me istg)

- I'm just so incredibly happy to finally have a new Dragon Age game after 10 years of painful waiting

[soggycereal]

reminder that this is the bare minimum and all disabled folk deserve this and so much more and you should expect this in a partner or good friend

find someone like my dad who for my disabled mom

constantly researched more and more about her disease

spoke up for her without her having to ask him to by making sure she gets the rest and care she needs or yelling at people or healthcare workers not listening to her

encouraged her to seek disability checks and let her quit her job because she couldn't work

helped her take care of herself and spoiled her

took her to the ER more than three times in a single day because she kept injuring herself due to a multitude of factors

doesn't get mad at her when he has to stop work regularly to go help her because shes fallen

it legit makes me so so sad that people ignore the needs of people they care about especially disabled people because in any relationship its taking care of both of your needs no matter if one has more or different ones and literally sometimes i hear from my friends about people not doing these things op said for them and i literally feel violent because its literally so selfish and evil imo and im so sorry that some people dont do this for you because its so important. i see it a lot because i irl know some people with chronic illnesses and its actually insane for me that people can not directly try to help people and listen to them like my good friend from high school was chronically ill and it was a terrible experience watching how people didnt give him the patience and understanding he needed

(im sorry im really passionate about this sort of thing and i hope you like this rb and it makes sense and op if you want to infodump about your chronic illness IM ALWAYS UP FOR IT)

people that adapt to your chronic illness,

people that give you a ride and pick you up places without making you feel guilty

people that go to the ER with you

people that make sure to walk slowly so you can keep up while using a mobility aid

people that are willing to try different things to help you

people that are willing to learn and listen to you when speaking about your chronic illness

[savethecolytecampaign]

Acolyte fandom, today we’re going to talk about Qimir!! What were your favorite moments? 😍😍😍

Qimir is fascinating. I love every scene with him. We first see him as a clumsy yet kind-hearted man, then as a strong, cold, and calculating one, and later as a vulnerable and charming lover. But what I want to see the most is his role as a mentor with Osha. He's an incredibly complex and multifaceted character!

The quotes he delivers, his personalities—everything about him is captivating. Qimir is a great character, very interesting. Leslye really did an incredible job assembling the entire cast of The Acolyte.

One of the things that impresses me the most about Manny is the chemistry he has with Amandla. Just watching the way Qimir interacts with Mae and Osha, you can immediately notice the difference. It's impressive! It's fantastic! Their performances are incredible, and it only highlights their dynamic even more.

As The Stranger, he's so intimidating, so strong, and always spitting out the truth. It was the first time I truly felt a strong connection with someone from the dark side. And that’s the point—because not everyone is evil for no reason, we’re all shades of gray. Giving that depth to both the Jedi and to him was really well done and exciting.

Manny trained for such a long time for his role as Qimir, and you can tell. His skill is amazing, and watching him do almost all his scenes, portraying this villain who, even though we knew it was him, the way they present him is really what matters. It was so impactful!

I especially love the dual choreography in his fight scenes, something that's rarely done well, especially when one fights against two at once. And the fight between Qimir and Master Sol in the last episode was incredible!! Manny’s performance was outstanding, as was the entire cast's. What an incredible job!

Something I want to emphasize is that, while this man is physically attractive, what really captivates women is how he understands Osha, how he listens to her and understands her. He’s a vulnerable man who talks to her, who’s kind, who gives her choices, and who considers her at all times. One of my favorite scenes is the entire episode 6 (because there are so many reasons I love this episode!). Every interaction between Qimir and Osha in that episode is amazing. He always gives her a choice. He makes her face herself, heals her wounds, sets her free, and sees her. He understands her because he has lost everything too. In contrast, to talk Sol and Mae, he has to knock them out and tie them up. Although I won’t deny it, that scene is chilling, especially when Sol tells him she won’t hurt him, but the first thing she does when she runs away is to chase her and try to take her down.

I love Qimir, and I want to see more of him in that role, but I also want to see more of his vulnerable side, to understand what led him to the dark side. I’m curious to know how he found Mae and how his training began. I want to see more of this magnificent duo. I also want to see more of the relationship between Osha and Qimir, both as master and pupil, and in their lovers’ role.

Qimir is a character full of nuances, and I love how Leslye did such a great job, a role only Manny could have played so perfectly. The whole cast did amazing work. What I love most is how Manny and Amandla would get excited every day to be on Star Wars. You can clearly see the passion and love they have for the saga!

It’s very important to mention that there is no Qimir without Osha or Mae, because his life is deeply connected to theirs since Qimir decided to train Mae. There is still a part of his story we don’t know, but once we learn about his past with Vernestra and Sol, we’ll truly see that his journey revolves around training Mae and then Osha. This relationship is crucial to the development of all their stories, and it's a key element we want to explore—the important bond between them.

[justwriting]

THK episode 1 rambling thoughts

I am obsessed with this show. I have watched episode 1 five times! And I am absolutely in love with all 4 main characters.

I am not good at writing in-depth analysis or meta of any series as I tend to take things to literally sometimes. However, several things that strike me:

Kant and Fadel are more similar than we (I) think: Fadel with his job as an assassin by night and chef by day is precise with whatever he does. One only needs to see when he cut those tomatoes perfectly and carefully prep the burgers. Similarly, Kant as a tattoo artist means he needs to be meticulous and patient when he designed + apply those tattoos on his clients. Both also clearly love their brothers and willing to do die anything for them - including letting said self being blackmailed multiple times by a shady cop or moving your entire life hood/business to another town cause your beloved baby brother went bonkers during a drunken karoake session. Both also internalised their problems and project calm externally - although Fadel comes across as broody (but handsome) while Kant appears more affable (also handsome!) because of his flirtatious nature. Nevertheless, this is one of the reason why I think Kant & Fadel clashes (apart from Kant wanting to boink Fadel's baby brother) - they are too similar in nature and knows how the other operates.

Style and Bison are chaos incarnates and gremlins to the core. While Style may come of as ridiculous and bold, he is sharper than he looks. The fact that he can get under Fadel's skin so quickly means he clocks on what irritates Fadel and just roll with the punches without fear. Similarly, when Style told Kant he will only hit on Fadel if Kant gives up his precious car? That is him checking out Kant's interest in Bison because he knows how much Kant adores that car. Bison despite his sweet look is cunning and knows how to play to his strength. We know he has Fadel wrapped around his fingers. And while Kant may be the one flirting (at this point), Bison is the one pulling the strings. Even from their first one night encounter, Bison sets the pace (and tone) - from declining to give his name to boldly stating "You're not doing this solo, you know?". Plus while he seems receptive towards Kant's flirting (later on), Bison is constantly watching Kant's moves and calculating in his mind how much he wants to trust him.

Fadel and Bison relationship as brothers - they are polar opposites. However, it is obvious Fadel loves Bison even though he does not truly understands his lil brother. Similarly, while Bison may rebel, he ultimately obeys his big brother. After all, he wouldn't have asked Kant to win Fadel over if Kant ever wants to date him. May I also add that both Bison and Fadel are broken in some ways and it will be interesting to see their background story as the series progresses. I also personally think while Fadel is more stoic on the outside, he also has the gentler/fragile heart when compared to Bison.

Kant and Style are crazy - the former knows Bison is a hitman but still decides to seduce him (even with him being blackmailed, you can't convince me that is enough reason to proceed with the seduction). Style does not know Fadel is a hitman - however, the fact that Kant does not feel the need for his best friend to know of this important fact tells you a lot about how bold and fearless Style can be.

Kant, Bison and Fadel have control issues - in some ways they are all powerless and have no say on how to live their live. From Kant being frequently used by the police to do their dirty job to Bison/Fadel being raised as assassins. So, it certainly will be interesting to see how the 2 couples face their lack of control - some people have already theorized the BDSM scenes we will be seeing from KantBison stem from the need to have/give up control and it certainly seems to be heading towards that direction.

Either way, I am enjoying the cat and mouse game both couples are playing (although Fadel is clearly an unwilling participant at present). Both sides are convinced they have the upper hand, but I think all 4 are actually on a more even plane than they themselves realised.

[infinitecakes]

Prompts! Get your prompts here!

We're excited to give you the prompts for the 2024 Infinite Cakes Great Big Bang!

While I cannot control what people do, I'm asking that, until the bang is completed, these prompts be reserved for those participating in the bang. They, and many others will be available for all afterwards!

Current Active Prompts!

Destiel:

1. Dean and Castiel have lived next to each other for years, but they're barely acquaintances. One day, Dean falls off his ladder while outside, and injures himself. Cas sees and calls 911, insisting that he follow Dean to the hospital. After a short stay in the hospital, and with a heavy cast on the injured limb, Dean comes home. When he does, Cas offers to help him with daily chores. It's an offer Dean can't refuse. Strangers to friends... to lovers? You decide!    (Credit to NEG85 on ao3)

2. Castiel is looking for a job after graduating with a degree in business. Dean is the CEO of a corporation and his executive assistant just quit. Dean also helps his friend Charlie at her strip club sometimes, if one of her dancers calls out. Castiel's friends take him out to the strip club one night to congratulate him on his new job, and Dean ends up giving him a lap dance. They have an instant connection, and exchange numbers after the dance. Come Monday morning, they discover that Castiel's new job... is as Dean's new assistant.    (No credit)        

3. Dean is an assassin for hire who is convinced that he's hidden his occupation from Cas, his husband of twelve years. Cas has known about Dean since before they got married, but hasn't said anything because he thinks Dean is cute when he's trying to be covert. Then, one day, everything changes, and Dean finds out just how much Castiel knows.     (Credit to blackhorsedances on ao3)

All Ships:

1. Character A is bored with their life. They've had no luck in love, a job they hate, and are looking for a way out. A relative they've never heard of dies, leaving Character A as the sole beneficiary of their will - including a little garlic bread shop in a remote, but beautiful, village. It takes time to warm up to the new life, to find out what's important, but meeting Character B helps put things in perspective. They clash at first, but eventually A and B fall in love. As they do, A discovers that the village is plagued with vampires, and the late relative was the last in a long line of vampire hunters. Can A find true love, keep the world safe from vampires, AND manage not to burn the garlic bread?    (No credit)

2. A young villain tries to mug Character A, but when he sees their face, he flees in terror. Upon further investigation, Character A finds out that their high school sweetheart, Character B, is now the most powerful villain in the world - and that they've got Chracter A on their "'Do Not Harm Or Else' list."    (No credit)

3. Character A wakes up to find that they drunkenly got married to Character B in Vegas. Whether they knew each other already or are complete strangers is up to you. While trying to get a divorce/annulment, one or both of them realize that maybe they don't want to end the marriage after all. Ultimately, they have to decide to either stay together, or go their separate ways.        (Credit to entropic_saudade on ao3)

[dykedvonte]

Honestly I see Jimmy's refusal to put Curly out of his misery less about his weird feelings of envy or his delusions but the fact Curly is all but stated to be a shield to Jimmy from his actions and people seeing the worst in him.

The only characters that Jimmy really interacts with one on one before the crash are Curly and Anya, two individuals he has wildly different relationships with. It's likely that Curly really did most of the talking between them as the pilots and the rest of the crew as staff. They didn't know of Jimmy's more reprehensible behaviors cause they never really had the chance to and Jimmy is subconsciously aware. If they had disliked him more than Anya would have told Swansea earlier or even Daisuke when things got really bad.

It's why he takes the immediate opportunity to blame Curly; He's the shield. He's saved Jimmy's ass more times than he can count and more times than Jimmy would ever admit. Even when he can't really do it anymore, he mentally shields himself from his own faults by putting Curly between them. Letting Curly die puts too much on him because he doesn't know how to function without a safety net.

In the end Curly only lives because Jimmy needs the idea that Curly will inevitably make things better to stay alive, meaning Curly has to live, no matter how much it pains him to do so.

[t-u-i-t-c]

"Good luck, Tsugami."

[ohfugecannada]

Just saw a post by @/mscl*ritea saying drag queens arnt a marginalised group and are “just employees”, while also saying trans is a cult amoung other awful and baffling things after Kevin Bacon voiced support for drag queens on his social media.

Anyway, reblog or reply if you think drag queens are more than just “employees” and deserve a place in the lgbt+ community!

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

anyway. gillions hair is the texture of green algae and he bites things and has a big fatty muscular fish tail and when he switches from breathing with his gills to breathing with his lungs he has to empty all the water out through his mouth and its really gross and hes got claws and scratches things by accident a lot and hes not a very good singer but he does it anyway and pretzel is a therapy animal and his corals will bleach if he doesnt take care of them so they start going pale if he gets sick/hurt and his skin is sort of rubbery and he eats raw fish straight from the ocean with his teeth and he is deeply deeply superstitious and sorta paranoid and on guard 101% of the time because of how he was raised and hes gullible and dumb sometimes but hes not stupid hes just out of his element

[rhysdasior]

“I’m my mother’s son,” Rhys answered, ducking his head and averting his gaze with a humourless laugh. “That means two things; one, it means I’m every part as susceptible to a witch’s natural inclination to always strive for more when it comes to developing and mastering our magic. This position allowed that whilst simultaneously acting as a good addition to the ol’ CV. Two, it meant this – at the time – was a way to get out from under her watch. I’d planned to take up the position a few years before, but my grandmother knocked some sense into me and made sure I had a firmer hold on both myself and my magic.” For a moment, a fond smile settled on Rhys’ features as the mere mention of his grandmother was enough to bring Corinne’s ear-tugging and affectionate lecturing back to the forefront of his mind, the comforting familiarity almost enough to numb the ache of his guilt before he met Adrasia’s gaze again and the reverie shattered to bring him back to the grim reality. “I’ll admit, I was willingly naive. I didn’t look into what the position would entail fully prior to applying, didn’t think to question it during the… interview process. If I can call it that. By the time the job was mine and I’d actually taken the time to digest what was to be expected of me…” a sheepish smile blossomed across the witch’s face and he cleared his throat as he scanned their surroundings. “Well, my ego’s never been good at taking hits. My pride wouldn’t let me tap out. It would’ve meant proving my parents right – neither of them thought I’d be capable. Throwing in the towel so soon would’ve put me back at square one, stuck in London waiting for the day my mother decided to abdicate as High Priestess.” 

Forcing himself to hold Adrasia’s gaze, Rhys searched for the right words as he considered the remainder of the celestial’s questioning. “It’s selfish, I know. As are my reasons for remaining. During my years here, I’ve made bonds that mean more to me than my remaining family back home. I’ve got loved ones here now and others in the Undercroft that I’m hoping to buy freedom for when the time’s right.” It was easy to say the more socially acceptable words. It was also easier to swallow the unspoken admission that the paycheque and the prestige that came with the position still held importance regardless of his birthright and trust funds, no matter how morally reprehensible he felt for acknowledging such a fact. “I don’t have any justification for my behaviour. I could walk away at any point and I choose not to because, selfishly, I’ve got something good going on here and don’t want to put a stop to it. I’ll face the consequences of my actions one day, no doubt about it.” Finally pausing, Rhys took a deep breath and raised his brow at Adrasia with a sigh of laughter. “Feel free to tell me to shut up at any point now. Sorry, I’ve barely let you get a word in edgeways.”

Adrasia merely listened as Rhys laid out his experience, trusting the witch to direct their steps as his eyes lingered on the other man's face. Learning to navigate conversation without empathy had made the celestial's gaze a rather heavy one, always seeking out those subtle signs of a person's true feelings with mundane sight to make up for the suppression of divine senses. The behavior may have stemmed from a desire for understanding, but that hardly made Adrasia's stare any less piercing, especially given the subject matter. "Four years... that is a weighty role." Hardly one of the poor souls scrubbing the masters' suites clean. "The length of our tenure is nearly the same."

The celestial watched Rhys' gaze roam away over the gardens and the slow creep of disquiet across the witch's face. Rhys' conscience was far from clear, that much was obvious. Adrasia recognized it with some steeliness and only the smallest flickering of sympathy -- he had learned in these strange first months at Krovs just how winding a road one could walk to become a member of the staff there. Some reasons were more complex than others, but Rhys' position was hardly one a soul could be easy blackmailed into. He answered the witch's tentative smile with cool neutrality, the subtlest upward quirk of his brows. His silence seemed to encourage Rhys' words, a small flood of them, infused with shameful self-awareness. That was another strange thing about mortals: such an emotion almost always spurred action in the celestial, yet time and time again he had watched the people of this realm tear themselves to pieces over behaviors they would not change. Why did they do it? Why wallow in rightful guilt rather than do what was necessary to erase it?

Adrasia felt no closer to answering that question now as Rhys laid out his sins for him, or at least the most pressing of them. He followed the witch's unthinking motions, the cigarette stub, the hands rifling in pockets, the steadiness of Rhys' words regardless of their contents. Four years was a long time to grow used to a sin, even if you remained clear-eyed enough to name it. Adrasia nodded, pensive, then cut through to the core of the issue, as level as before: "Why did you take the job then, knowing what it would entail? Why remain?"