#but there's something going on with these plot points

[flowersforbucky]

lavender and velvet

logan howlett x reader - 2.5k words

Every time he kisses you, he's more and more convinced - this is it. This is why he's been alive for two hundred years and he's still here. This is why he was drug through hell and back and traveled from a different universe to be here.

or - logan's obsessed with two things: your favorite perfume and your panties

warnings/tags: worst!logan, neighbor!reader, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (female receiving), language, pet names, not much plot but lots of fluff, dual pov for logan & reader, reader is afab, no use of y/n, 18+ only mdni

follow @flowersforbuckyfics & turn on notifications for fic updates ♡

“How is it that you smell as sweet as you look, huh? How's that possible?”

Logan had been alive a long, long time. Two hundred something odd years of life and he'd never smelled anything quite as addictive and intoxicating as you. From the first time that he ran into you in the stairwell of the apartment building that he’d just recently moved into with your next door neighbors, he was drawn to you.

It turned out to be sheer good luck that the elevator was down and he had to take the stairs that day - sheer good luck that you turned a corner too quickly, unable to properly see the stairs you were trekking up with groceries piled high in your arms. Sheer good luck that you allowed him to help you carry the large paper bags the rest of the way back to your apartment.

Dreamy. That's the best word to describe you. Warm vanilla and lavender with undertones of honey. He'd bottle you up if he could, just to smell you on his skin when you're not around.

“Took a shower for ya,” you tease in an airy voice from above him. You lean against the edge of the kitchen countertop in your apartment with Logan kneeling on the linoleum flooring directly in front of you.

“Even sprayed a bit of that perfume you seem to like. I hope you feel special.”

He has his hands splayed across your inner thighs, spreading your legs open just far enough for him to trail his nose along the soft, bare skin of your thighs. From your point of view, he's concealed by the flowy fabric of your mini skirt, but the light scratches of his beard against your skin have you hyper-aware of every movement that he makes. He nips a quick but sharp bite into the tender flesh before emerging from your skirt.

“Special?” He chuckles as he looks up at you from his position on the ground. His hazel eyes crinkle around the edges in that way you've grown to adore when he smiles.

He suddenly begins to stand, locking his palms around the backs of your thighs and hoisting you up around his waist as he stands.

“Gotta be if I'm holding you like this.”

He holds you tight against him as he walks backwards to the worn loveseat that came with your apartment, and plops down. Your skirt billows across his lap, leaving only the thin fabric of your panties and his too-thick jeans separating your center from his. His bulge is solid beneath you, even within the confines of his pants you’re able to feel the hard outline of his erection rut against your clothed core.

You drag yourself across the defined swell in his jeans, trying to ease the growing ache in your lower belly with any amount of friction. He’s as desperate for it as you are, this much is clear by the way his eyes roll back into his head and his fingers dig into the meat of your ass.

“Stop teasing me, sweetheart,” he grunts as you shove your hands up his flannel and trail your fingers up the expanse of his chiseled chest. “You know I’ve been going crazy without you the last few days.”

“Is that right?” you ask, rocking back and forth along his erection, earning another rough squeeze to your ass. “Sounds like you need to have a talk with our dear friend Wade about getting himself into trouble, if it means he’s going to be dragging you away from me for days at a time.”

He smirks up at you, satisfied with the knowledge that the mere three days apart was as miserable for you as it was for him. He removes his hands from your ass, bringing one to your middle back and one to the back of your neck. He cups the side of your throat in his large hand and pulls you closer until your chest is flush with his and your mouth hovers just above his own. He can smell the spearmint from your toothpaste and the watermelon flavored chapstick that he’d come to love the taste of.

“Are you trying to tell me that you missed me?”

You hum against his mouth, your lips grazing his just enough to leave him practically mewling beneath you. He thought about your touch, your taste, and your scent the entire time he had been out of town. Now that you're sitting on his lap and grinding your hips so sweet against him with your mouth almost but just not quite touching his, he feels like he's going to combust if you don't meld your lips to his in the next three seconds.

“Of course I missed you, Logan.”

That's all he needs to hear you say in your sweet voice before he's pulling your face the remainder of the way to his and capturing your lips in his.

Every time he kisses you, he's more and more convinced - this is it. This is why he's been alive for two hundred years and he's still here. This is why he was drug through hell and back and traveled from a different universe to be here.

You remove your hands from underneath his flannel, bringing your fingers to the top button. You make quick work of snapping each one undone as you continue to move your lips with his, only pulling away when you've popped open the very last button.

You drink him in as you push the checkered fabric off of his shoulders and down his bulky arms. He leans forward enough to allow you to pull the shirt off of him entirely, tossing it somewhere behind the two of you in the small space of your living room.

From the defined muscles of his chest to the soft, dark hair that litters his abdomen down past the waistband of his jeans, you think he's got to be the hottest fucking man you've ever laid your eyes on. And for some reason, he's here. In your apartment, kissing you senseless while you straddle his painfully hard erection.

He brings his hands to the tail of your shirt and begins to pull the fabric upwards. You raise your arms, letting him tug it over your head to join his somewhere on the floor. You’re left in only your skirt, and with Logan looking like he could eat you alive.

He grasps a breast in the palm of his large hand and brings his mouth to the other, encapsulating your already hardened nipple in his lips. He swirls his tongue around it before pulling away with a sharp tug of his teeth.

“Now who’s teasing?” You ask breathily, earning a low chuckle from him. You yelp in surprise as he quickly stands from his position on the loveseat, effortlessly lifting you with him. Your legs lock around his abdomen as he ushers you both away from the couch that's too small to have you in the way that he needs you right now.

He follows the path to your bedroom that he's come to know well in your time together, kicking the door closed behind him with his boot. He places you on the mattress, where you lay with your bare back against the cool satin sheets as you watch him shed his boots, quickly followed by his jeans.

Normally, Logan likes to take his time undressing you himself. But you're impatient - you haven't seen him in three days, and those three days felt like a lifetime for you. So while he's shimmying himself out of his pants, you tug your skirt down your thighs and calves until it hits your bedroom floor, leaving you in just your panties.

He groans at the sight laid before him, falling to his knees where your legs dangle over the side of the bed. You can't help but laugh at the dramatic display - as if he hasn't seen you in a similar state countless times already.

“You look so cute in these I almost don't want to take them off of you,” he says in a husky voice as he traces his index finger down the front of the baby pink, velvet fabric of your underwear, starting at your pubic area and going over your clit and down to your hole.

Goosebumps litter across your skin as you resist the urge to clench your thighs around his hand. You wish he'd unsheath his claws and snip the damn thing off of you.

“I think I'd like cuter without them.” You almost cringe at how fucking whiney you sound, but he laughs.

He brings both hands to the waistband of the panties, hooking his fingers into them and then pausing. “Promise you'll wear these for me again sometime real soon, and I'll take them off of you.”

“God,” you groan, letting your head fall back against the mattress in exaggerated annoyance. “Promise. I promise I'll wear them again soon. Now please–”

He yanks the plush fabric away from your cunt, letting it join your skirt and his jeans on the floor.

“You're right,” he sighs. “You do look even cuter without them.”

And with that he's hooking his arms beneath your thighs and pulling you to his mouth.

He moans into your pussy as soon as he tastes you. He just can't help himself - he thinks you're the sweetest thing he's ever tasted and he wants you to know it. And if he happens to be so vocal that sometimes his roommates hear it next door, then so be it.

Your hands reach for his hair, your fingers tugging on the short brown locks in the way that he likes, spurring him on as his lips suction around your clit. He brings a singular finger to your hole, swirling it around in your slick before easing it inside you. Your walls instantly clench around the digit, reminding him of the tight, wet heat that he can't wait to sink his cock into.

You buck your hips against his mouth as he begins to slide his index finger in and out of you at a torturously slow speed.

“Logan, please,” you whimper, raising your ass off the bed in a desperate attempt for more friction.

“Just missed you a lot, baby,” he murmurs against your cunt. “Wanna take my time with you, that's all.” He adds a second finger, making your eyes roll back into your head and your body go slack against the mattress.

Logan prides himself on being able to tell when you're about to cum. The two of you haven't been sleeping together all that long, but he has learned your body quickly. He knows that you like it when he kisses just beneath your ear during missionary and that your pussy clenches around him when he tells you how good you feel.

He knows all of your little quirks, hyper-aware of everything about you - which is why he's confused when he knows your climax is building, and you sit up, pulling yourself off of his mouth.

“Come here,” you demand in a breathless voice before he can ask if something is wrong. “Wanna cum with you inside me.”

You grab him by the biceps, pulling him towards you until you're once again laying flat against the bed and he hovers above you, caging you to the mattress with his arms on either side of your head. Your words and the way you're looking at him makes his cock twitch inside his boxers.

You reach between your bodies, shoving his boxers down enough to free his hard length. You hike your thighs around his hips, locking your calves around his back. The tip of his cock juts against your folds, teasing you as he lubricates himself in your slick. Always so wet and ready for him, but especially after he's been away from you for a few days.

He guides himself downwards, until the tip of him is positioned at your entrance. He captures your lips in his own once more as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you to the hilt in one swift motion. You moan into his mouth at the sensation of him stretching you so quickly, the lack of time to adjust to his size simultaneously brutal and blissful.

He slips his tongue into your mouth as he pulls back out, setting a steady pace so he isn't spilling into you too quickly.

You wrap your legs around him even tighter, pulling him as close to you as you can possibly get him. The heels of your feet dig into the meat of his ass and you pull his chest to yours in a hug, your fingers scratching down the expanse of his back. You dig into his skin with enough force to leave marks that fade as quickly as they appear.

“Fuck, you always take me so good. You know that?” He murmurs when he pulls his lips from yours. Your walls constrict around him at the praise. “Missed you too much,” he grunts into your ear. His speed increases, each stroke hitting your cervix in a kind of blinding pleasure that only he's ever been able to give you.

“Close,” you mumble, almost inaudible among the sound of him fucking in and out of your wet cunt. “I’m close. Want you to cum with me.”

He pulls his chest away from yours, just far enough to snake his hand between your two bodies. His fingers find your swollen clit and he begins rubbing you with heavy, quick circles.

“Let go for me, darlin'. I got you.”

His pacing becomes erratic and his breathing labored - you know he's right there with you. The coil in your abdomen begins to burn hot, building until you're spasming around him with a sharp cry of his name. You ride out your orgasm as he continues to thrust into you, filling you with his warmth and the room with deep, guttural groans.

When you've both come back down to earth, he stills and all but collapses on top of you. He supports himself with one arm to keep the full weight of his body from crushing you as he stares down at you with his forehead resting against yours.

A sudden and loud knock on the opposite side of your bedroom walls snaps you both back to reality.

“Can you keep it down over there? I'm blind, not deaf. But God, do I wish I was..”

Logan lets out a throaty laugh and you instinctively cover your mouth with your hand at the realization of how loud you had been.

“I think it's a bit late for that, sweetheart,” he croons down at you with a soft smirk.

“Sorry, Althea!” You shout back, cringing into your mattress, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“Don't worry too much about her,” he says low enough for just you to hear. “She hears worse from Wade’s room anytime that Vanessa is over.”

thanks for reading! comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated 💕

for other logan pieces by me check out my masterlist

[gothgoblinbabe]

hiyaa <333 just wanted to drop a Logan request here.. (pref from the ver of the x-men, 2000?) because it's always like sunshine reader this and grumpy/mean logan that (i luv them btw) but what about cool!reader. what about the reader that can and will not put the cocky shit he is on his place but keep him there??? what about the reader that tames him down, the reader that casually grabs the back of his shirt to keep him from launching himself at Scott with a deadpan face, the one that lets him bite??? the one that will literally outmatch his agressive and violent energy????? the one that grabs his wrist when his claws go out and quirks an eyebrow at him like 'really?'???? like pls we do seriously need a bit of a level-head/intermediator!reader with Logan (can be smut if u feel like it?) 🙏🙇 fem if possible <33

IM KICKING MY FEET SO HARD RN OMG, I also love grumpy Logan x sunshine reader but being w someone that matches his energy? Oh my god, that’s my shit

NSFW/18+ // This isn’t like a full oneshot ig but if you do want that with plot and stuff lmk!)

- Within the first few months of meeting each other, everyone would definitely tease Logan (and you) about how you’re like the female version of him. You don’t put up with anyone’s shit, including his. He learned that the hard way, nearly being knocked on his ass when you yanked the back of his jacket to prevent him from ripping Scott to shreds because of some stupid comment. That wasn’t a one time occurrence, either. You were the only one bold enough to actually try to put him in his place when the claws came out, going as far as to use both hands to hold his wrist in place while you glared up at him.

“Chill the fuck out, would you?”

And the first time you had the balls to actually do that, everyone else stood back in mild fear, anticipating some kind of fight between the two of you. Instead, he rolled his eyes and retracted his claws. It was an unusual influence you had over him, something about you that made him feel hypnotized.

- He’ll never admit it to another soul, but he definitely likes that you’re dominant over him at times when you have to cool him down. Grabbing his arm, pushing him back - lightly tugging at his hair if you really couldn’t get his attention. He likes when you put him in his place, get a little rough with him or talk in an angry tone.

- And because I’m a sucker for friends to lovers, I think he’d be so head over heels for you because of that. He’d try his best to be stone faced when you were stern with him, but he’d be gnawing on his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood.

- Same thing with training: If you actually manage to wrestle him down to the mat, he knows he can push you off if he really wants to, but he never does - he gets way too engrossed in staring up at you while you straddle his lap and hold his arms down.

- Though Logan wasn’t always levelheaded, he could return the favor of holding you back when you got too aggressive, wrapping his arms around the middle of your waist and pulling you back - sometimes even having to lift you off the ground and sling you over his shoulder. Truthfully, he’d let you tear someone apart if it were up to him - the assholes usually deserve it - but he knew it would be frowned upon to not stop you.

- I think when you somehow do admit your feelings - maybe you get pissed when he puts himself in danger and just tell him you love him or he does the same when he starts to become a little too jealous of anyone else hanging around near you - he’d always have his hands on you in some way. Maybe the small of your back, your hands, your wrist - anything. And the jealousy thing? Oh, forget it, he won’t even let another guy stand too close to you. He’s not toxic (maybe if you wanted him to be🫣) but very protective, he’ll let another guy talk to you if he’s gotta but his hand is in your back pocket the entire time while he stares the dude down.

- Angry sex is a regular occurrence. Are you really mad at each other? Not even close, but it doesn’t take much more than a few choice words exchanged in the hall for Logan to be dragging you into the nearest room with a lock, holding you up against the wall and drilling into you till he has to hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. There were definitely a handful of times you’d almost been caught, trying to babble out an excuse about being busy to whoever was behind the door while your leg was hiked over Logan’s shoulder, messily eating you out with your skirt bunched up at your waist.

- Overall I think you’d make a good pair, keeping each other in balance when one of you gets a little feral (though, let’s be honest, it’s definitely usually you having to hold him back).

Like I said if you want more of that concept or like something w plot pls lmk!! Absolutely love the idea 🫶🏻

[x0xomady]

made with love

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

summary: harry and you are in london for fall, so you make cookies, listen to old music, and fall even more in love.

(harry styles x female reader)

warnings: 18+ it’s not heavy smut, but there is still some smut in it, oral fem reciving, sickingly cute fluff.

a/n: my last few stories have had some heavier themes and plots, so i wanted to write something sweet! this is all autumn themed since summer is over :)

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

the cold streets of london are filled with dew from the rain, fallen leaves, and people. harry and you are walking along the street back towards his apartment after being at the store. after much debate and harry threatening to sleep in the guest room for a month, the two of you decided on making chocolate chip cookies.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ one hour earlier, at the store ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“what do you mean, chai cookies? what the hell is a chai cookie? that’s a tea, not a dessert, sweetheart.” harry looks at you in confusion as you walk through the baking isle of whole foods looking for ingredients.

“it’s a thing! you know it has chai, nutmeg, cinnamon, all that good stuff.” you shrug and continue looking for the bags of flour.

“uh no it isn’t. we need to make chocolate chip cookies! everyone knows chocolate chip cookies are the best classic cookie.” harry sighs dramatically and drops the container of chocolate chip cookies into the basket. “where’d you even the get the idea for chai cookies?”

you smile and try not to laugh as you turn and look back at harry, knowing he would be mad about the source of your new fixation. “you know…. taylor swift posted them on her social media-”

harry gives you a deadpan look and doesn’t say anything.

“yeah, yeah, fine we can make chocolate chip cookies, you drama queen.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

as you make your way through the crowded streets, the cold night air nips at your nose and leaves your hands feeling cold and stiff. the light of street lamps falls upon the wet pavement, casting a faint yellow glow upon it, while the buildings look dull and dark against the dark sky.

harry and you walk silently beside one another, dodging other pedestrians who seem to be just as bundled up against the cold.

you look up at the sky and see the clouds are beginning to move in, covering up the stars and making the city darker. harry looks down at you, his breath visible in the cold night air.

“you warm enough?” he carries the bags in one hand and reaches over, lacing one of your hands with his.

you feel the warmth of his hand against your cold skin and give him a small nod.

“yeah i am,” you say with a smile, feeling harry’s rings against your hand as you walk. “you sure we have everything we need?”

“i think so,” he says with a small shrug, squeezing your hand in his. “eggs, milk, butter, vanilla, flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. and i even remembered the baking soda. which by the way- i had no idea what that was until today.”

you roll your eyes and smile at his words. if there was one thing harry could not do, it was bake. he could write albums, go on world tours, and play multiple different instruments, but if he had to mix ingredients, it turned into world war three.

“you could’ve just bought premade cookie dough,” you point out with a smirk, looking over at him. “or we could’ve made something easier, like rice crispy treats, or brownies-“

“first of all,” he begins with a mock offended tone. “rice crispy treats are a kid's food. secondly, we’re trying to get the full autumn experience, okay? none of this “store-bought” nonsense.”

“we can get the full experience by cuddling on the couch under a blanket and watching a spooky movie,”

you counter, raising an eyebrow as harry rolls his eyes at you. the cold from the air gives him a light pink tint to his cheeks as you walk through the streets. “but i guess you’re right…. watching you trying to bake is horror enough.”

he gasps, looking down at you in mock horror. “you think i’m that bad?!”

he grabs your hand tighter and pulls you down the street faster as you get closer to his apartment. “that’s it. i’m going to make the best fucking cookies and force you to eat them.”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

“okay…. add…. 3/4 cup of sugar.”

you nod and start measuring the cup of sugar. harry’s sat on the counter with his legs dangling off the side, reading the ingredients out for you to add to the bowl.

“aaaand… 3/4 cup of brown sugar.”

you smile at the sight of harry sitting on the counter so casually. he’s wearing his favorite “DAMN” hoodie that he wore whenever he could. you add the brown sugar to the bowl and look at the dough.

“okay it looks good. come help me roll it out so we can bake it.”

harry smiles and hops off the counter, standing next to you eagerly and looking down at the dough.

“ohhh so i AM allowed to help, good to know.” harry sighs sarcastically and moves the sleeves of his hoodie up, revealling his tattoos.

you roll your eyes and put the dough on the counter. harry had TRIED to help you mix the ingredients at the beginning, but...

⋆｡˚⁺｡ a few minutes prior ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“okay add the flour, h. i measured it, just drop it in the bowl.” you nod towards the cup of flour and watch as harry picks it up.

instead of dropping it into the bowl like a normal person, harry decided to hold it up about three feet, so when it fell in, flour shot EVERYWHERE.

“oh….” harry looks over at you with flour coating his entire face and hands, letting out a sneeze as the flour goes in his nose.

“oh for fucks sake, harry.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

so he was benched after that.

“yeah, yeah, stop whining and help me roll it out.” you smile at the sight of your boyfriend squishing the dough around.

he grins at you at you and begins squishing the dough with his hands, pushing it out with his palms. the sound of harry’s favorite fleetwood mac song, “over my head” is playing throughout the kitchen.

“i’m over my head… oh but it sure feels nice” harry is mumbling along to the lyrics as he rolls the dough around. your heart flutters and you smile a little at the sound of harry singing. you could never really get over having harry styles around like this.

“this is fun. just mashing around some sticky dough and getting it in my fingernails for no reason whatsoever.”

you roll your eyes again and start forming the little balls of dough, putting them on the greased pan. “stop being gross.”

“no no i can’t help it, it’s too fun.” he grins at you, shoving one of his hands in the dough and holding it up to you.

“see look, my fingerprints!”

he presses the dough against your cheek before you can protest, laughing as he leaves a sticky, doughy handprint on your face.

you gasp and push his hand away, feeling the sticky dough on your cheek. “harry!”

he laughs loudly and holds his hands up in surrender. “i’m sorry, i couldn’t resist. you’re just too cute.”

he moves closer, bringing his face close to yours and licking the dough off your cheek. “mm tastes good. not that you don’t always taste good, because trust me, you do.”

“oh shut up,” you scoff, playfully pushing him away as a blush spreads across your cheeks.

he grins and kisses your cheek before going back to rolling the dough into shape. after a second of silence he speaks up again. “oh shit- it’s everywhere.”

you turn to see that, sure enough, almost the entire counter was covered in dough, with little bits of it clinging to your skin and shirt. you look up at the sight of harry’s hands completely covered in sticky dough.

“harry how did you manage to get dough EVERYWHERE?”

“uhm, excuse me, i think you mean how did WE manage to get dough everywhere.” harry grins as you give him a look. he holds his hands up, admiring the dough on them. “see, we’re bonding.”

harry’s smiling and giggling like crazy. you roll your eyes and give his shoulder a gentle shove. “yeah, bonding over dough. i think we’re at peak relationship goals right now. just put flour on your hands to get some of the dough off”

you couldn’t be mad at him at all. you knew what harry meant by “bonding.” harry had been on tour for almost three years straight, and you finally had the chance to spend more than a week at a time together. you knew he felt guilty about being gone so much, and that’s why he was so set on having a “perfect fall” together.

you look at your messy hands and sigh, shaking your head. “okay let’s finish putting these in the oven.”

harry grins, shaking as much of the dough as he can from his hands, sending little clumps of it flying into the air. he giggles and grabs some paper towels, wiping the rest of it off his hands.

“yeah okay i guess i’ll try not to get any more dough on your stuff and everywhere,” he responds, moving back to the counter towards you. “just because you’re being so sweet about it.”

you smile at his words and give him a peck before grabbing pans and putting them in the oven. “mkay… lets go pick a movie”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

“johnny depp is so hot in this movie.” you sigh dramatically and take a bite of your cookie, watching the iconic scene of him in a crop top.

harry nods in and takes a bite of his own cookie. “yeah i agree.”

the two of you are sat on harry’s large couch, watching the perfect scary movie, “a nightmare on elm street.” you’re sat on the couch, laying back with your head on harry’s chest eating your cookies. they didn’t come out perfect, harry’s large (and just a little awkward) hands hadn’t formed the best shaped cookies.

but it was all perfect.

the front window of the apartment was left open, letting in the cold breeze and smell of rain as the clouds and mist filled london. each cookie was made with love and it was evident in the taste. you could tell harry was happy. he was so anxious about making sure you spent time together, and he was finally making it happen.

your large, fuzzy throw blanket is draped over the two of you as you watch the classic horror movie. harry’s hands mindlessly run over your waist as his focus on the movie.

he lets out a small breath as his hand rubs up and down your hip. he lets his fingers trail down, tracing little patterns against your skin.

it had been so long since the two of you could just be together like this. tour schedules had been hell, and he hadn’t had a break for almost a year. he was trying to make the best of it, he could tell you were also having a good time. you were so happy to just be near him, he could feel it in the way you relaxed into his touch.

“ughh that is disgusting. acting is…. mm subpar” harry says sarcastically and fake gags at the sight of johnny depp’s characters gruesome death scene. he grabs another cookie and puts it in his mouth, wincing at the sight of the blood.

“yeah yeah, I forgot I was with an experienced actor,” you scoff sarcastically, looking up at your boyfriend, who’s pulling a face. it was cute how affected he was by a cheesy 80s horror movie.

he rolls his eyes and grins down at you, still continuing to make a face as he watches the movie. “hey i’m allowed to criticize, remember don’t worry darling? yeah that’s right, masterpiece.”

he brings his hand from your waist down to your leg, gently squeezing your thigh as he looks back at the tv and watches the movie.

you smile and shake your head at his words, taking another bite of your cookie. “oh that’s right. please forgive me.”

the two of you continue to watch the movie, occasionally commenting on the acting or the plot. harry's hand never stops moving, tracing patterns on your waist and thigh, and you can feel yourself relaxing more and more with each passing moment.

the rain outside picks up, making a soft tapping noise against the window. the cool breeze from outside makes the room feel cozy and warm.

harry pulls your sweatpants down and tosses them to the side before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him. he starts pressing kisses along your legs, starting from your ankles and working his way up. his stubble scratches gently against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. he takes his time, savoring every inch of your legs as he moves higher and higher.

the rain outside continues to fall, creating a soothing background noise combined with the quiet sound of the movie that only adds to the intimacy of the moment. you can't help but let out a soft sigh as he reaches your inner thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.

as he reaches your core, you gasp and grab onto harry's thick curls underneath the blanket. he presses a kiss against your folds, and you let out a low moan. your heart races as he continues to explore, his fingers tracing patterns against your skin. you lean back against the couch, your body going limp as you let yourself be consumed by the sensation.

harry's hands move up to your hips, holding you in place as he continues to taste and tease.

you feel his warm breath against your skin, and his tongue darts in and out, sending shivers down your spine. he suckles your sensitive nub between his lips, holding your body close to his. the scratchiness of his stubble gives a delicious sensation as his mouth, and chin scrape against your mound.

your fingers dig deeper into his curls, holding him in place as you arch your back, pushing yourself closer to his mouth. "yes, please h, need more." your voice comes out as a whimper as you push your hips to meet his face.

harry's hands grip tighter on your hips, pulling you closer as he continues to taste and tease. he can feel your body trembling beneath his touch, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. he takes his time, exploring every inch of you as if it's the first time he's ever tasted you.

but suddenly, he pulls away, leaving you wanting. he pushes the blanket off, revealing your flushed skin and the desire in your eyes. he gives you his signature cheeky grin, his green eyes meeting yours.

"what do you need, love?" he asks, his voice low and husky. his hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

you bite your lip, your breath still coming in short gasps. "i need you," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

harry's grin widens as he hears your words. he leans back in, pressing a kiss against the inside of your thigh, keeping his eyes on yours. "yeah?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "need my fingers, baby?"

you nod and holds onto his curls. harry takes his time, tracing a path with his fingers up your thigh, making you squirm in anticipation. when he reaches your core, he gently slides a finger inside of you, making you gasp at the sensation. he starts to move his finger in a slow, steady rhythm, his thumb pressing against your clit.

harry's eyes never leave yours, watching every reaction and response to his touch.

"you look so good," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. he presses a second finger past your entrance, and you let out a low moan as he begins to explore deeper. "so, so, so pretty," he says, his breath hot against your skin.

he continues to move his fingers inside of you, building up a rhythm that has you pressing your hips up against his hand. your breath comes in short, sharp gasps as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

harry's fingers curl inside of you, pressing against that spot that makes your whole body tremble.

"oh, shit," you gasp, your fingers tugging on harry's hair for support. he smirks against your skin, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you. he presses tight circles on your clit, pressing light kisses against your thighs and mumbling words of encouragement.

you can feel your orgasm building up inside of you, your body tensing up as you get closer and closer to the edge. harry's fingers continue to move inside of you, his touch driving you wild. you whimper out, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your orgasm finally crashes over you.

harry smiles as he feels your walls squeeze his fingers, his eyes locked on yours as he watches you come undone. he gently presses kisses against your clit, his lips soft and gentle against your sensitive skin. slowly, he moves his fingers out of you as you ride out your orgasm.

"good job, baby," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "you look so pretty." his eyes are filled with adoration as he gazes at you, his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin. you can feel your body relaxing, your muscles releasing the tension as you come down from your high.

“love you so much,” he sits up from where he was kneeling on the floor between your legs and grabs a towel to gently clean you up. he stands up and presses a kiss to your forehead. “told you, you taste better than any of those damn cookies.”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

i may or may not have been inspired to write this after i made taylors chai cookies 👀

-💋

[major-trouble]

There's this book I want to talk about. About a Perfectly Normal Spaceship (lol) and the adventures of its crew.

So, I know I keep harping on about this, but I finished my reread this evening and I have to say - it's better the second time through.

There were a lot of things I missed on the first round, mainly because I was devouring it as fast as I could in a wide-eyed rampage of unbelievably hyper-focused attentiveness that nearly made me mess up the start of the academic year for a major post-secondary institution.

But anyway.

Taking a much calmer, more measured approach, I still found myself drawn deeply into the story and anticipating the next plot point with glee and amxiety. I could clearly see the foreshadowing now. And it made the experience richer.

For the record, I fucking hate reading first person narratives. They drive me up the wall for personal reasons. And first person present tense?? Fucking hell. This story blows my mind with how well the author takes these elements and makes them work. I want to hug Aspen and kick them in the ribs. I want to listen to Tal talk about shit forever. I want to understand Celti's motives and give Hive the opportunity to see butterflies.

The characters are real and grow in ways I was expecting.

Anyway, please go read this story. It's not going to change your life, but it will definitely cause a time dilation effect and make you late for something. Also go check out the rest of the @derinthescarletpescatarian stuff. You won't regret it.

[starsandaces24]

inspired by @homoquartz, a list of fun b plots i'd put in DBD if I was making it:

-Crystal is trying to learn how to knit, but her projects keep getting destroyed while the agency is on cases. At the end, she presents the boys with a scarf. as she leaves, we hear them say "she does know we don't get cold, right?" the last shot is of the scarf on their trophy shelf.

-Jenny keeps going on dates with increasing bizarre women who don't call her back. it turns out to be the shapeshifter that the agency has been looking for the entire episode, who's been trying to get the perfect date, but feels like she's messed up every time.

-Edwin and Charles have swapped styles for an episode. at the end, it turns out to just be Something They Do every so often.

-Niko and Crystal find a bird they think is Monty and hang out with him. At the end, after he flies off, they show pictures of themselves with the bird to the boys, who point out that it's a raven. Niko asks why it was talking to them. the end of the episode is the raven flying into the Dreaming, turns out it was Matthew the whole time.

-The boys are setting up their house rules game of Cluedo. all you see is them walking into the office with increasingly ridiculous objects. in the end, Jenny opens the door, sees the entire office covered in stuff, says "never mind", and slams the door.

[uriekukistan]

thoughts on jjk 270, unfiltered for your reading pleasure

honestly the whole chapter feels like a disservice to megumi. i know i say that all the time, and maybe i'm just too jaded, maybe i'm wearing favorite character goggles idk, but as a whole i think this chapter was just. not good so if i wanna talk about it with regards to the Favorite Character, i will

my first thought seeing megumi at tsumiki's grave was that gege was gonna finally give a proper moment where he could grieve and reach some kind of closure, maybe get some of the overdue development he's earned. like to me there's nothing better than when the emotionally reserved character breaks down, and this would have been the perfect moment. i feel like so much of megumi's character has been built around his relationship to tsumiki, and the past 60 chapters-ish have been building up to this moment where megumi can properly grieve and maybe express some kind of remorse to tsumiki for being a bit of a brat when he was younger, but he never gets that. instead, we get this really stale and emotionless ending for their relationship, and for megumi's character as a whole. like idk, this whole time he's wanted to be able to apologize to tsumiki and make it up to her after everything she did for him, and he never even gets a moment to mourn. i hate that for him.

next. why am i getting more emotionally satisfying endings for side characters that i literally dgaf abt than for main characters like megumi, yuuta, gojo (i'll stand by the fact that i think he should have died, but like show people mourning him damn), nobara, YUUJI?????? idk like wtf is going on here. to me there is no reason to get a more satisfying ending for that middle school friend of yuuji's who was relevant for like two pages before i get a satisfying end for the literal deuteragonist of the story

then there's the whole thing w hana. i'm not even saything this from a shipping standpoint, but it's frustrating to me that megumi gets to reach some kind of peace w hana and have a good conversation with her before he talks to itadori, the person who's been by his side this whole time, the person who appreciates him for who he is and not their idealized version of him, the person who he decided to live for, the person who arguably means the most in his life right now. he doesn't get to exchange a serious heart to heart with him, but he gets to have a shallow surface level interaction with hana? idk i just feel like it reduces his character to something very superficial and i hate to see it.

and maybe i'm just dumb but i don't get like. any of these new plot points that have been introduced, but honestly, i don't care to understand. it seems like gege is in fact trying to set up a second part to jjk and im just so annoyed by that, because we get this rushed ending where nothing reaches proper fruition so he can introduce these new plots? like idk, somehow that pisses me off more than if he just fumbled the ending, but i hold that thought until we know for sure that he's making a second part.

this was supposed to be more general, but i got carried away w my thoughts abt how bad megumi's ending was fumbled. anyway. yeah canon doesn't exist to me past 268 :D

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 20 ... WITH BENEFITS??

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, y/n has daddy issues for the sake of the plot

NOTES | I have no idea why this update took me so long to post I'm so sorry 😭 I don't like making chapters like this too sad (don't worry there's still gonna be some angsty chapters) but I don't want the written stuff on its own bcs that feels too espresso depresso or wtv the phrase is so this is a bit of a longer chap than usual.. anyways if ever you feel bad for y/n, don't worry you're gonna feel worse

19:21, dinner the night before

Y/n shuffles in her seat.

Jaemin greets her with a smile, and though she offers one back, that sinking feeling in her stomach doesn't seem to settle.

Suddenly now that she finds herself face to face with her once best friend, no menus in hand since they'd already given their orders, no way to avoid conversation for just a couple seconds longer, Y/n finds herself at a loss for words.

What was anyone supposed to say in this situation?

Sure a thank you would be ideal, considering Jaemin had somehow managed the impossible, but the words escaped her. Like they rested at the tip of her tongue but she lacked the drive to speak them.

It's not that y/n wasn't grateful, no, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't, in fact she didn't know what it was, what confused her so deeply that she sat there silently. Her thumbs twiddling against one another, as she stared down at the table in front of her.

There was a nagging whisper in her mind, one that cast shadows over her once clear thoughts, leaving her in that haze of uncertainty that she recognised all too well. Recently it was all she could feel around the captain.

Something about this situation in particular makes her palms sweaty and the hairs stand on her neck, every glance at Jaemin feeling like a shadow of what had once been, a reminder of how it had all been lost.

Even just sitting opposite Jaemin isn't simple.

Not at all.

It's like sitting across from a mirror that once reflected shared laughter and secrets, now distorted by fractures of lost trust and unspoken words. She supposed that was the thing about mirrors and shattering. No matter how hard you tried to glue the pieces back together, it would never quite be the same.

Perhaps that's why y/n is lousy in her attempts, grateful to Jaemin but unbothered to express it. The thought that no matter how desperately she hoped, this couldn't be restored. That there was no point in pouring energy into a friendship that would never be resolved.

"So" it's undoubtedly jaemin who breaks the silence, a soft tone to his voice, not quite as gentle as the other night but still warm "are you feeling better? like really okay?"

For a moment she wonders whether she'll break at the sound of his voice like she always had. Would she go back to that point in life where it was so easy to lie, so easy to say she was okay, so easy to pretend, in front of everyone else but never in front of him.

"I'm fine, honestly." She lies.

There's a shy sheepish smile that creeps across her lips and slightly accents her words

Jaemin hasn't seen much of her positivity be directed his way, and seeing this ignites the little hope in him that they could move on from this, from everything.

"You didn't have to work on it without me you know, it was just as much my project as it was yours and you putting in all the effort isn't fair on you."

"You did most of the preliminary stuff anyways, and I really didn't want to ask you because of the other night" Jaemin finally admits, though not willingly, his words extracted more so by her sharp stare and the cold atmosphere.

"Right..." Her attempts at changing the subject, clearly in vain— he really needed to stop asking about the other night. Y/n wasn't sure how much h longer she could hold back the tears, the looming feeling of inadequacy as a guardian still strong. She should have been more careful.

She knows its her turn to speak, opening her mouth to do so.

But again, y/n struggles.

The words play hide and seek in her mind, leaving her to grasp at empty. The atmosphere grows heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Her mind races, a jumble of what to say, thoughts of how easy conversation once was, how effortless it had been, all such a stark contrast to now.

Jaemin watches, a mix of intrigue and concern in his eyes as she contemplates in front of him, quiet but with an expression that spoke volumes.

The silence between them seems to bite louder than any conversation they once held, each dish in front, a reminder of the bitter aftertaste of a friendship turned cold.

"It's just Minjun and I" she breathes out, voice shaky, and Jaemin realises that those nervous cues in her slumped posture and shaking hands had never changed "It's just been the two of us for a while" she whispered. "That's why I was so scared"

Jaemin's hand hovers uncertainly beneath the table, unsure if the gesture would be welcomed or misunderstood, caught in the delicate balance of care and concern.

Admittedly, Jaemin catches himself slightly intrigued, still confused what could have lead to her practically perfectly family turning into this.

But he knows better than to let his curiosity get the best of him.

He wants to stop her, tell her that whatever it is that causes her brows to knit together and her pretty eyes to gloss over isn't something she needs to force herself to talk about, but he doesn't know how.

For a moment he's kicking himself under the table— how had he ever let go of the person who meant so much to him?

Even now, knowing everything she had done, he couldnt help but question why hadn't he tried to get past it then?

At the sight of her downcast features suddenly everything that he once despised her for seemed so trivial.

Jaemin sees himself, a younger, less mature version that stands on the court, hair matted to his forehead from the rain, a ball long forgotten somewhere behind him, cold, betrayed, and so painfully alone. Those burning tear stained cheeks, the harsh whistles of wind, the bitter feeling of failure still clinging to his skin, he remembers it all.

But every feeling he recalls so well, so vividly, is so easily dismissed when her eyes shine with a painful tint, red from the piercing tears that she holds in them.

"My dad" she cuts him off, gaze now avoidant as he grabbed her cold hands in his, "he walked out on us not long after ...whatever hapenned between you and me. He never came back, didn't answer a single call, not even a text, no form of communication except the papers he sent in the mail so I could become Junnie's legal guardian."

I missed you, she wanted to say. I needed you she'd liked to add.

"That's why it's just the two of us now" she said instead, trying to find more words to stop the tears from flowing, like her words were the only thing that could hold them back.

Back then, Y/n remembers vividly the feeling of wanting to fall, to sink, to drown but still somehow keeping her head above the surface to hold on and stay strong for her younger brother. She wondered if Jaemin had been there, would it have been easier? Would she have let herself fall, would she have someone to give her a hand, to pick her back up again and hold her hand through it all? Would things have ended differently?

"I'm sorry" his words weren't new, they weren't special, they were the same as what everybody else would say but the fact that they came from him, Na Jaemin who now stood by her side with his arms wrapped around her, was enough to dissolve the feeling of emptiness.

08:25 present time

Y/n looks over at Minjun, still deep in slumber, smiling before she steps out of the room.

There's way too many toys sprawled out across the living room floor, a blanket she finds herself folding as she subconsciously begins to clean up. Her eyes land on the kitchen counter, wondering what to make for breakfast. She was never particularly good at cooking, but she'd been learning for her brothers sake.

When she gets to the black jacket resting over the couch, it hits her. She catches sight of her puffy eyes in the mirror, and a hand runs through her hair hurriedly.

"Why the fuck did I tell him all of that" she let's out a frustrated sigh, running her hands across her face, "I'm supposed to hate him" she reminds herself, though her tone isn't convincing in the slightest.

"You don't hate him though" Heeseung's voice comes out muffled, the toothbrush between his lips making it difficult to understand his words.

He had been the one to stay over last night, her friends still taking turns to accompany Minjun and her every night since he'd walked out of the apartment, a gesture that made her heart swell. Although up until now she was pretty certain he was still asleep. Clearly not.

"I can't hate him" she sighs, falling back into the couch "is it bad I want to be friends with him again?" she asks, even though Heeseung had retreated to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

Regardless he pokes his head out into the hallway, a sly smirk across his lips "with benefits?"

Y/n rolls her eyes.

He emerges again not long after, smiling from ear to ear "no y/n it's not bad if you want to be friends again" he takes a seat beside her "you can only fight your feelings for so long, let yourself be vulnerable, take the risk and try again" he says, hands resting on both his knees.

"and if you're feeling really risky, you can always—"

"shut up Heeseung" she smiles, lightly pushing against his arm "I guess it is worth a shot though"

"he's right next door anyways so sneaking around won't be hard at all"

"I meant being friends. Just friends." she stands up, walking over to the kitchen "you down for pancakes?"

He nods.

"You know it could be good though, he's hot, you're hot, there's enough tension to make things interesting and it ticks your not ready for a relationship box pretty well too"

Despite the pointed look the captain offers him, Heeseung doesn't let up, and secretly, she wouldn't have it any other way.

prev | masterlist | next

TAGLIST (open): @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @nanawrlds @222brainrot @sungookie @pepperedthot @dinonuguaegi @haechansbbg @90s-belladonna @bath1lda @jeongintwt @daegalfangirl @ahnneyong @jammingjaem @paper-boats-rose @iraa567 @errrrrat @kyusqult @suzayaaa @jising-jisang-jisung @soonyoonswoo @nctrawberries @wonbin-truther @sunghoonsgfreal @lotties-readings @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @girlz4jaem @beomgyusonlywife @nanaxwi @nosungluv @tommina @sinisxtea @20sdiary @otblous @p-d1ddy @lostinneocity @soobs-things @odxrilove @buns-inhiding @busy-daydreaming02 @starfilledgaze @papichulomacy @grassbutneo @iwilleatyourgod @jeeluv @mystverse @meowtella

[stars-obsession-pit]

I feel like the potential of different methods of treatment of Jason’s Lazarus Pit side effects in DPxDC fics is often underutilized.

Like, yeah, the crossover brings in more ghostly stuff that could help, but it’s contamination on his literal mind/soul (definitely soul in a DPxDC context, idk about in DC canon) brought on by an unnatural resurrection. At least to me, that feels like it should be significant.

Having Danny just reach in and pull it out or Frostbite treat it in a basic procedure feels almost… cheap?

Like, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it being easy. Stories don’t need to go deeply into the soul healing process; if it’s not meant to be major plot point, it can absolutely be just a quick thing! I’m not trying to insult those stories at all!!

But I feel like there’s a lot of room for more complex or esoteric stuff in there to be explored!

Some ideas for such unique condition things under the readmore:

What if his “revenant” thing some fics use comes into play and the only way to remove it is to fully achieve his revenge? And if that’s the case, what if someone/something else kills the target of the revenge without his influence? Yeah, the person is dead now, he’s technically avenged, but he wasn’t the one to get the revenge. So does it still go away, or is he stuck with it? If he still has it, is it just permanent now or can he just find some other revenge method (ruining their legacy or etc) to break it?

Or oppositely, what if he literally can’t achieve that revenge or his body will die again, its mission complete. Thus, his only way to survive and remove the side effects is to smother all those vengeful urges until they fall silent. Which could make that “someone else kills the target unrelated to him” thing from the previous idea now the good ending - basically guaranteeing his survival since he can’t achieve the vengeance as easily now and can move on. Or maybe it’d be even worse as it forces him to move on regardless, dying randomly when the target of his revenge meets their comeuppance.

What if cycling out the corrupted ectoplasm is a long-term process of meditation (and/or emotional control) - something that takes up significant space in his life and forces him to plan/work around until it’s complete (reduced work hours, avoiding certain situations that might cloud his thoughts, etc)

What if he needs to obtain some sorts of special items/materials (either connected to his own life or more general ghost stuff) for a cleansing ritual, forcing him to go on some sort of quest(s) before he can perform it and recover

What if the tainted spots on his soul can’t be fixed, only excised, leaving other types of consequences for his mind/soul (some that will gradually disappear as the “incisions” heal, others that persist in the scars left behind)

What if the healing process requires him to go over his memories and smooth out the jagged emotional edges left by the Pit, and he isn’t experienced enough with ghostly matters to do on his own, so it forces him to get help from another ghost (and thus bare all his secrets to them)

What if the Pit Rage has to be fully pulled to the front - leaving him completely consumed by its control - before it can be literally fought back and suppressed

What if it can be healed only by taking pieces of healthy ghosts to patch him up - which’d require a lot of smaller ghosts (e.g. blob ghosts) or could potentially only need a couple if he’s willing to harm more intelligent ghosts for it (which Jason likely wouldn’t do, but he’s hardly the only person who’s been revived by the Pits…)

[yingandzhan]

I keep seeing people condemn WWX for his actions at Nightless City and I just can't understand how they arrived at that conclusion.

First off, WWX was an innocent man being condemned for no reason other than people didn't like the fact a son of a servant was more powerful than anyone from the reigning bloodlines. He was a hero, praised for his new cultivation method, until he wasn't needed any more and they made him into a pariah. They attacked him on the way to a social event he was invited to and he defended himself. That's allowed... Otherwise he'd be dead!

A tragic accident occurs, and while the cultivators might not know the truth - they know some people ambushed him and accused him of something without hearing his side of the story. To anyone else, that would be an injustice! Even WQ and WN were given a trial!! However rigged it was, they still had one. The clans demand WQ and WN hand themselves in and they will let the matter go for now - leaving WWX and the Wen remnants alone for the time being. But they go against their word! The minute the Wen siblings are apparently dead and they are dumping their ashes at Nightless City they are plotting to attack and kill WWX and the remaining Wen remnants anyway!! That's absolutely disgusting. They gave their word and instantly went against it. WQ died for nothing.

WWX witnesses all of that and is of course distraught. Then one idiot shoots an arrow at him because they choose to ignore how morally wrong the whole thing is (murdering innocent people because of their name - people that were once free AFTER the war, put then recaptured and put into labour camps at a later date) and is even rubbing shoulders with people who were on the Wen side and actively on the Wens side during the war (as WWX pointed out during his gatecrashing antics at some gathering). Yet we should feel bad for the person who blindly follows the mob and shoots at a man that's actually innocent? All of that damning evidence against the people he's siding with and all the truth WWX spoke and he'd rather just ignore all that? It was his choice to make and he was morally wrong in shooting at WWX.

WWX only ever acted in defence during this scene. Yeah, maybe he did go over the top because he was traumatised and grief stricken - but he was trying to defend himself and keep the Wen remnants safe as well. This is ancient China!!! Not the modern times! Stop viewing this novel through a modern lens!

For the millionth time - regardless of your opinion, MXTX was right to state WWX is the moral ideal of the story because she literally wrote him as such. She's not claiming he was perfect or never did a single thing wrong. She's saying he's the moral ideal because he learns from his mistakes!!! Unlike 99% of the characters in the novel! He learns from them and vows to never do such things again - which we see throughout the story. She wrote him as the moral ideal because he is willing to do what is right despite any backlash or consequences. That's what makes him the moral ideal. Not some fairytale bullshit, but real life moral ideals, where people aren't entirely perfect but do what is right, even if it's not the easy option.

[utilitycaster]

I'm curious about your judgement of the success of the various format experimentations in Campaign 3. If you feel like saying a bit more, I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on which are the most and least successful, and why.

Sure! So as I said earlier today, I think a big problem is that the format experimentation and the moon plot are directly at odds. Pulling off the moon plot, with all the NPCs from past campaigns and payoff of various canonical setups requires a pretty firm hand on what the current canon is, and also really did require a firmer hand in the character creation than there was. On the other hand, the point of experimentation is to let other people play in the space and introduce their ideas. This comes together in what I have referred to in the past as "Not Now." Like, the Crown Keepers showing up just as the party was grappling with FCG's death? Not bad as a concept, but Not Now. Abubakar playing Corellon? Incredible performance, but the fact that he was given free rein in a plot that's already shedding viewers left and right for its lack of direction? Not Now.

On an individual level:

I think EXU Prime either needed to be fully standalone, or Matt needed to provide a slightly more rigid direction to Aabria and therefore really couldn't play Dariax. If it's going to get woven into the main plot of Campaign 3 it needs to set that up (including giving Liam and Ashley a heads up beforehand). My personal vote would be for the former, to allow Aabria to tell her own story without it having to serve like 20 different functions, but what's done is done. If I recall, Liam and Ashley had the option to play different characters for Campaign 3 and I do wonder what would happen if they had decided differently, because you could still have Dorian pop up as a guest but I wonder if the Crown Keepers would have shown up in the same way.

Similarly, as stated, the general concept of the Crown Keepers interlude during the campaign as a means to bring in Dorian? I'm not opposed, though I think this is by far the hardest thing to coordinate generally and for a plot as demanding as Campaign 3 probably not a great idea. But it's hard to judge because the timing was truly the worst timing possible given the events of episode 91, and even delaying by like an episode or two would have at least solved that to the point that I don't understand why they didn't just...do that. (and, just to head off this particularly stupid argument at the pass, this would not have in any way affected Sam's ability to take time off for cancer treatment; it would have just shifted things around, and a lot of this experimentation was planned WELL in advance). [sidebar: I haven't listened to the WBN interlude yet but I do have thoughts because I think interludes from different GMs can be done, but the premise of Campaign 3 is particularly hostile towards them unless the main GM has a very heavy hand in their creation or unless they are light on things relevant to the core plot and mostly for the purpose of worldbuilding a la Song of the Lorelei.]

Solstice split was excellent and I think it's because it was not actually anything you wouldn't see in how people frequently play D&D at home. You have a few players who won't be available for a few sessions in a row? Great, find a reason to split the party, bring some other guest players in, and run some side quests!

Downfall was great because it was diagetic. It was a story within a story that Bells Hells was seeing and responding to, and because it took place so long ago with such specific characters, while it may bleed into how Laura, Taliesin, or Ashley feel in game (impossible to prevent, people bring their own feelings to the table), Matt still has room to decide how the Raven Queen, Wildmother, or Everlight feel a thousand years later. I also feel this had the most direction from Matt, which the other things really needed.

As said, bringing in Abubakar to DM as Corellon is something that again, this plot simply doesn't handle well. It makes for a fantastic scene, but within the 107-and-counting episodes of this story, giving the reins to someone else after you finally have a clear plan and letting them throw another curveball is a terrible idea narratively. I think this again would be fine in a story with a looser plot.

Echoes of the Solstice and presumably the upcoming Vox Machina Malleus Key/Mighty Nein Weave Mind concept is again pretty good. This also fits into things that D&D home games have been doing forever - run a one shot or mini campaign following different characters but DM-ed by the same person that have an impact on the current plot but aren't too closely interwoven. Basically this is like the solstice split in concept.

Essentially: I think playing around with the format within a campaign but having the same GM is pretty easy to do. Once you introduce other GMs acting within the world concurrently (rather than as a story with a foregone conclusion a la Downfall, or for that matter Calamity) you need to be extremely careful if you are trying to tell a specific story with a lot of moving parts, as Matt is with Campaign 3. It's one thing to improvise based on things your players do or say; it's another to do so based on improv by a major NPC or someone doing extensive worldbuilding mid-game that you now need to incorporate. This wouldn't be an issue in a more sandbox-style game; Campaign 2 might have been able to withstand it more gracefully, though I'm still not sure. But Campaign 3 was the wrong place to do it. Again, it's trying to converge in some places and diverge in the others and as a result it's just kind of flopping around in place.

[spacedlexi]

So I was rewatching berleezy's twd s4 and someone in the comments said it was interesting that Clementine (determinately) can believe there's no life inside of walkers when her parents were found together and they were assumably walkers for those 6 months she and lee were together. Meaning they could've wandered off and separated but they were found together after all that time. (It's more than likely for plot but it's still an interesting point) Thoughts on that? Also any headcanons on her parents? (Or art 🥺👉🏾👈🏾) have you watched berleezy's playthrough???

well walker tenn still does the hand thing. and you could apply that idea to clems parents still standing together after all that time. maybe some deep part of them compels them to move that way, to stay close to those people. what made them Them is still in there somewhere even if theyre gone. its something S4 Wants you to think about. is there really Nothing left of who they were once theyve turned? i think there is. on some level. the person may be gone, but some part of them still remains

i like that since they do the "humans are the real monsters" thing that every zombie thing does (which ultimately i feel is what zombie media is About (plus our capacity for love and community. great love and great evil)) they leaned into that idea of well if the zombies arent the real monsters then what are they? theyre just their own thing. any creature just trying to survive, even if theyre dangerous. once they were a person who lived a life and had people who loved them. and now theyre This. i joke when i call james the neighborhood cat lady but like... yeah. S4 is very explicitly about what makes someone a "monster". willing to do evil things (or willing to stop doing them) and at what point there is no return, and when you have to let go of them. but does that not also apply to the walkers? there is no return for them either, and you still have to let go (or die with them), no matter how much of who they were is still in there somewhere

S4 is very philosophical about its themes and wants You to come to a conclusion on the ideas its presenting to you. it Is a choice game after all. i do believe walkers are walkers. but that doesnt mean there isnt still a part of who they were in there somewhere. both can be true

and yes i watched berleezy cuz he was the only one i could find who actually liked vi and her romance 😭 (and who didnt not save her/get her killed). so many people were so apathetic or weird with her while still choosing to romance her i couldnt take it anymore WHERE IS THE ENERGY?? his reaction to vi shooting minnie is the reaction you Should be having in that scene. thats how i get every time i see it 😩

[bibibbon]

You know? It's kinda of funny how LOV fans treat the whole "I want to be a hero for villains" of Shigaraki as something groundbreaking, when the same concept was already introduced in the series (and was done better) with Nine.

Unlike Shigaraki, Nine literally meet his team members when he saved their lives. In Chimera's case it was when a bunch of racists were about to execute him just for being a mutant.

Nine also was a hero for them in a more thematic level, as he not only save their lives but actually give his team mates a reason for live and fight. He offered them the chance to fight for create a better world. For me it's quite remarkable how Nine despite being a homeless and chronically ill person, go for save people he view as equally oppressed by the world.

He was selfless enough to sacrifice his own health using his quirk to save Chimera despite it was destroying his body, and without expecting nothing in exchange for share a dream Nine a hand to people at their lowest point.

That's much more of an "All Might for the villains" or whatever Horikoshi tried to make Shigaraki in the final moments. Or hell Nine even acts better as a foil to Deku in the sense both are selfless individuals who fight despite their bodies are crumbling, just for the save of the persons who are important to them.

How ironic is that Nine, the original movie villain that was supposed to be just a prototype for the "final villain" of MHA, ended executing the same themes way better than Shigaraki.

Hi @nyc3 👋

A main reason as to why people treat shigaraki's I want to be a hero for the villains ideology better than nine's is simply because I assume a lot of people forgot the plot of the 2nd movie or haven't read the one shot manga chapter mha leauge of villains undercover. All of this is a shame because I heavily agree that nine's version of I want to be a hero and hope for the villains is executed and built up 10000x times better than shigarakis and nine had a fraction of the screentime that shigaraki got which is saying a lot.

Actually rewatching the film and rereading the manga one-shot has showed me that nine and shigarakis arcs are pretty similar with nine's having a better execution and shigaraki having more wasted potential.

The movie sets it clear that nine and shigaraki are supposed to be foils for one another so it makes sense that they would share parallels. However, you would expect that by the time nine is defeated that shigaraki would naraatively prove to us that he is ultimately the better character but in truth he doesn't and nine's downfall by shigaraki ends up being quite disappointing to me.

Another problem within the narrative is also the lack of interactions that nine and shigaraki have. I think that nine is essential to helping shigaraki and start to infulence him to realise that he is just a puppet and should develop a goal outside of just destruction. If shigarakis goal stays as destruction then the destruction of what? Everything? And how would that benefit anyone including him?

Nine like you said meets his teammates and saves them. He sees his teammates suffer like him and chooses to help them and they choose to help him. There is a clear relationship being developed and all the characters come together for the same goal, with similar backgrounds and varying styles yet they work.

When nines team see him in distress they run to help him and vice versa. The team has trust and overall everything that a lot of the leauges dynamics and development lacks.

Nine seeks destruction but his path is clear. He seeks to liberate and let nature flow its course with the strong overtaking the weak and finally being leaders instead of feared and abused because they don't fit into the small little box that is the mha's status quo. Nine plans to get stronger while being fully conscious and knowing the consequences. He makes a logical and heroic decision where we see him realise that he is trading his own autonomy and agency in becoming a lab rat all in exchange for power and a slim chance at achieving his goal.

This is all contrasted with shigaraki and his actions. We don't see his goal of destruction develop into a much more consistent and precise idea like destroying the giver and status quo. We don't see shigaraki fully conscious to come to the conclusion that yes the doctor is evil but he needs power. We lack everything from shigaraki and the information of chapter 419 just makes his character worse as shigaraki was a lab rat through and through.

Horikoshi tries to make shigaraki the better character but nine outclassed him in every way possible from the traumatic beginnings, to the developed flawed goal and to the final bitter end where we see nine crumble due to various factors 1)shigarakis decay and 2) his illness whereas shigaraki dies due to afo still being a lab rat that fulfills his purpose.

All of this reminds me of the ask that said mha's manga ending is a sloppy edited 2nd movie ending (except I was only looking at it from a hero perspective but it even applies to the villains)

Nine deserved better!

[quasi-normalcy]

Star Trek series rated by Canadianness!

The Original Series - Shatner's from Montreal; Doohan's from Vancouver; John Collicos (the guy who played Kor, the first Klingon) is from somewhere in Canada; and, um...yeah. 4/10

The Next Generation - So, in the episode "Lower Decks", Lavelle tries to bond with Riker over being from Canada (he's actually from Alaska). Also, Matt Frewer and Saul Rubinek are in episodes. 2/10

Deep Space Nine - I was going to rate this one pretty low since it has pretty much only Nicole deBoer and that one scene where Eddington mentions having a "lucky loonie" to go on, but then I realised that the series was literally premised on a brutal colonial project aimed at mineral extraction, and that's like...the *most* Canadian thing. 7/10

Voyager - WTH is this? No Canadians; nothing particularly Canadian. 0/10

Enterprise - Hoshi Sato wants to take leave in Canada after getting tortured with heat. 1/10

Discovery - Points for being filmed in Canada, and most of the extras and personality-less bridge bunnies being played by Canadians (though points off because the one Discovery novel that I've read keeps emphasizing that Detmer, who has the most personality out of all of them, is from Düsseldorf). Callum Keith Rennie's in the last season. 4/10

Picard - um...Alison Pill is there! 1/10

Lower Decks - Let's see...two of the ships have been named the Vancouver and the Toronto. The plot with Barb Brinson is riffing on having an imaginary girlfriend in Canada (one of our most famous exports). Also, I know this isn't canon, but the comics are done by Ryan North, which has to count for something. 4/10

Prodigy - Man, this series doesn't even air in Canada! -1/10

Strange New Worlds - Filmed in Toronto: actually *set* in Toronto in one episode; retroactively makes Khan Canadian (Khanadian?) which...sure. I'll accept that. Points for casting Edmonton's Bruce Horak as Hemmer, who comes from an ice planet and, as an Aenar, has a generally laid-back, pacifistic attitude towards life (which I think is how a lot of Canadians like to think of themselves); points off for killing him off 9 episodes into the first season. 9/10

[alexanderwales]

I look at Steam's "New and Trending" tab pretty much once a day, just to see whether something is there that catches my interest, and every now and then there's a horny game of some kind, usually something cooked up in RPGMaker with a collection of 18+ unlockable pictures if you do things right. I haven't ever actually played any of these, but I see them, and assume they have a following, and their own tropes and subgenres and whatever. It's probably lucrative.

What I don't understand is why the women in these screenshots always have such big tits.

It reminds me of those fucked up dog breeds with the weird snout and awkward body, like someone lost the plot at some point, like Goodhart's Law but for boobs. I am forced to the conclusion that a sizeable number of consumers like this style, where a petite woman has watermelon-sized tits sticking out of her chest, but I don't at all understand it. Other people have different preferences, sure, that's not news to me, but how does this disconnect happen where the golden ratio is getting thrown out the window? How do people look at these anime women who are 20% boob by volume and not think that something has gotten lost somewhere?

I think it would befuddle me less if it was less common, a niche fetish, but it's so omnipresent that I feel like my own preferences (for anatomically possible/likely tits) are somehow the anomaly.

(Since I don't play these games, it's also possible that this is at least partly a marketing/signaling thing, letting you know from the character designs alone that people are going to be having sex in this game. But it also seems to me like character designs are one of the things that sells the game, so then I'm led to believe that this is actually what the market wants, if the efficient market hypothesis is correct.)

[2dyumi]

⋆˚࿔ POWER TRIP

cw// no major warnings || wc; 1.3k

<<prev

You feel paranoid. 90% of it is definitely from the joint you huffed down just fifteen minutes before making the walk, but the other 10% is a mix of feeling like a creep for stalking around the park in the middle of the night, and meeting up with some random guy you’ve never heard of before. The Haitani’s are secretive when it comes to certain friends, especially if said friend is their dealer. It took months for them to trust you enough to get their numbers, and another three until they decided to smoke in front of you for the first time; which is still funny to think about because you were getting high in advance with some other friends prior to heading over to see the brothers. Rindou was the one who broke that barrier, busting through their apartment one day when you were lounging while waiting for Ran to finish showering. The younger Haitani was wasted and singing about his recent purchase, ending the off-key tune with a dramatic gasp at the sight of you taking up their couch. Since then, you’d sneak out and risk the twenty minute jog to their place, skipping steps on your way up the three flights of emergency stairs since the elevator always seemed to be out of order, and down the hall to their unit. 

First, they’d make you pay them back for your share by having you run to the convenience store for snacks, but with your dedication to it, Ran was the one who said you could buy whatever extras they had. It’s both a punishment and reward; starving your wallet but at least you’ve got something to keep you sane when you spend your days and nights alone. 

Pacing, you walk in circles around the swingset, flinching at every leaf rustling from the calm breeze and cricket chirping. It hasn’t been the full five minutes, but you’re ready to say ‘fuck it’ and dip. It’s cold, dark, and the perfect scenario for the beginning of a horror movie where you’ll die first. Taking a seat on one of the swings when your legs start to feel like jello, your elbows land on your knees and you slouch to place your head in your palms, rocking from heel to toe just for some movement. Your chest pounds painfully with anxiety while your thoughts seem to work in slow motion, canceling out all of your other senses from properly functioning. It gets to a point where you’re forcing yourself to zone out on a random spot on your shoes to calm down, finding a way to re-enter that peaceful state of mind. In a few deep breaths your heartbeat calms down and your breathing regulates, a ringing in your ears that you weren’t aware of until it slowly quiets down makes you pick up on the soft padding of footsteps. 

Your head doesn’t leave your hands fast enough, though, just a flinch running up your spine when the chains of the swing next to you rattle and creak from a weight that isn't the wind. There’s another set of feet next to yours now, wearing a similar pair of converse but they’re a light blue instead of the original black and white. Your gaze works its way up from his feet to his hands in his lap, staring at his fingers for longer than you anticipated, then up to his face. He has a scowl, looking like he’s plotting a murder in his mind and you pray it’s not yours. 

“Are you going to keep staring or can we get this over with?” he suddenly asks, watching your hands fly off the chains to cover your face. It’s funny how you think you’re hiding, but he can still feel your gaze on him. “If you want, I'll just leave it right here.” 

Following his movements when he stands, he bends down to place a cute little gift bag next to your feet, standing in front of you with his hand held out. 

Oh, duh! 

“Wait, you’re Souya?!” you ask, looking up at him. You’re able to get a better view of his features now, seeing the mess of blue curls on his head and matching cornflower eyes that squint at the question. It’s obvious, who else would he be? He takes a step back when you rise from the swing, turning on the flashlight from his phone when you hold out some cash after digging around in your pocket. 

“Hold this for me, please,” he passes his phone into your hands, maneuvering your grip on it so it points down at the cash in his hand as he counts it. It’s your fault for only having smaller bills, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you for making him have to go through extra work. Pocketing the money, he grabs the gift bag once again and opens it up, holding it under the light so you can see the contents inside. 

“You didn’t specify what strains and I know you asked for an eighth, but my big bro had some extra so I gave you some leftover indica buds we had, and the rest are sativa,” he says while pointing at different bags, but his words make no sense. “I think one is ‘wedding cake’… I'm not sure.” 

While eyeing the cannabis, you realize how much there actually is, and dramatically gasp. He meets your widened stare and furrows his already pinched brows, wondering if he said something wrong. 

“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, spitting out a shy laugh. “This is way too much, and even I’m not greedy enough to accept all of this.” 

Souya smiles. It’s very subtle, but you can see his lips twitch when they curl. “It’s fine, really. Think of it as… a first-time ‘customer’ bundle,” he reassures, but it’s not enough to ease your increasing heart rate. 

“No, hold on,” you shove his phone back into his hands, unaware of how sloppy and heavy the action was, ignoring the soft grunt he tried to suppress.

You’re glad you brought some extra cash along, and even though it was meant to buy some snacks on the way back home, you don’t hesitate to unzip your jacket and dig around in your bra. He turns his head away once your finger’s enter your shirt, accidentally catching sight of your cleavage before he tore his sights away, and his cheeks heat up with shame for seeing an area so personal. You fight around your breast to pull the rolled up cash out, yelping when it scratches against your nipple; already sensitive from the cool midnight air. Counting it with a mutter, Souya brings his attention back to you when you hold the extra five-dollars out. 

“It’s not much extra, but I promise I’ll pay you some more another day!” You chew the insides of your cheeks, smiling when he slowly takes it from your cold fingers. “And thank you, for texting back and meeting up so late. Oh! Plus the extra stuff, you’re too kind,” your words are sweet, making Souya return your smile with a chuckle and nod. 

“Yeah, of course. I live right down there—” he uses the light from his phone to point it at the street opposite of where your building is, turning the flash off after facing away. “—so it wasn’t too much of a hassle,” he shrugs. 

“Woah, what,” you spin around quickly, throwing an arm up to point towards an apartment complex. “I live over there! See the pink lights? That’s my room!” It’s wrong to give away your place, you know that–but at the moment it doesn’t feel so criminal, not when you’re making a new friend. Well… you hope he’s a friend. “Anyway, I should head back now. I left the door propped open a bit and my neighbors are… not the best so, thanks again!”

Souya gives a small smile, one you can’t make out right away and it’s gone in a few seconds when he nods. His hand comes up to wave, and he’s turning on his heels to walk in the opposite direction when you return the gesture before rushing off. 

--tags; @anahoyingkawata

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Have you ever made a masterpost of what sources you use to collect your folktales?

I don't have one masterpost, no. But in the tag #sources I've tried to give various people a good starting point for what they're looking for on specific subjects.

Most stories I know myself I've read in books (because I have a book hoard problem). But these are my go-to websites for when I want to link to an online text for something specific:

Grimmstories.com

Andersenstories.com

Sacred-texts.com

Heidi Anne Heiner's Surlalunefairytales.com/books

Wikipedia's fairy tale overview

And if I'm searching for something very obscure Project Gutenberg and the Internet Archive are usually my heroes.

That being said, when I'm looking into something from scratch I often start with these online collections:

D. L. Ashliman's Library of Folktales, Folklore, Fairy Tales, and Mythology, which is organised by plot or theme.

Heidi Anne Heiner's annotated tales on Surlalunefairytales.com/annotated, where well-known tales are grouped with their (usually) lesser known variants.

If I'm feeling very brave I might venture into a database of tale types and motifs:

Folkmasa.org

Thompson Folk Motif Index

University of Missouri Linked ATU Tales

Mythologydatabase.com

I think that's about it!