#like as long as the content is tagged appropriately then people can do whatever they want !

[so-very-small]

reminder: g/t is not about trying to Get A Good Grade In Morality. g/t isn’t about making things palatable to others. you can use those fucked up ideas you have. you can draw that NSFW. not all g/t content has to be Ideologically and Morally Pure. you can do whatever you want actually. preferences and likes in fiction do not equal IRL values. fiction =/= reality. write that fucked up g/t shit

#its…… fiction. its fiction. its fake. all of this is fake #like as long as the content is tagged appropriately then people can do whatever they want ! #sorry i was thinking of my fucked up gt ocs and how i never talk abt them bc it feels like I Cant #but….. thats a self imposed limit. why do i impose it on myself? why do any of us? #ppl talk about how weirdly puritan the fandom is and its like. itll be so until we let ourselves be freaks #i should let myself be a freak more. and you should too!

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

When the Levee Breaks

pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

tags / warnings: friends to lovers fluff then smut, mutual pining, smoking weed (be responsible irl), high sex, explicit descriptions of oral (f receiving), fem!reader

NSFW notes: A LARGE PORTION OF THIS FIC IS NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS; DO NOT READ IT IF IT ISN'T APPROPRIATE FOR YOU! HOWEVER, because such a long portion (like 2/3) has no sexual material (except for the implication at the very beginning), i have clearly marked where it becomes NSFW in case any age-appropriate readers want to read only up to that point (i know some people just want fluff not smut even if they're of age, and that's so chill); i will say there is drug use before then, so still adult material, but fluffy around that; please please be responsible for your content consumption

random notes: set in the late 70's / early 80's, following canon of when the marauders would've met but the rest of the world building (e.g. au) left ambiguous title inspired by a song on one of the albums mentioned idk why this turned out similar to The Prettiest Star with Sirius Black, but i guess my fantasy is just to listen to music intensely with someone then fuck lovingly lol

word count: 6.4k

hope you enjoy! thank you if you read it! 🫶

You watch as his long fingers, practiced and adept, roll the spliff. You liked this part. You could stare at his hands under the guise of watching the rolling. Remus didn’t have to know how far from pot your mind wandered when you did. He didn’t have to know it made you wonder every time what else he could do with this fingers. Imagine how they would feel on you. In you. 

At the thought, you squirm where you’re seated on his settee next to him. He chuckles in a low tone. 

“Antsy?” 

“No.” 

He can tell you’re lying. You can tell he can tell. But you don’t care. As long as he can’t tell why you’re lying, it doesn’t matter, and you can keep wriggling.

“Whatever you say, jitterbug.” 

Your wringing hands catch his attention, and his eyes fix on them even as his hands continue their work. 

“Next time, you’re rolling it,” he says through a smile. “There’d be nothing left to smoke by the time you finished shaking it everywhere,” he laughs, too amused with himself, giggling as if he were already high. 

“Remus?” you start, and he shakes his head and chuckles, loving how you get when he teases you. 

“What?” he smiles, eyebrows shooting up at you, both a welcome and a challenge for you to say whatever you’re about to. 

“Can you remind me who provided this wonderful gift on this wonderful afternoon?” You shake the baggy you brought to his flat not 15 minutes ago. 

He laughs, now nodding, and concedes, “You’re right, sunshine. I should be so grateful.”

Remus brings the spliff to his mouth to lick the edge of the paper, and your retort gets caught in your throat as you fixate on his tongue. 

A bit too late, a bit too quiet for your usual banter, you say, “You should be, Moons. I can still take it home and smoke by myself.”

“Oh now I’ve rolled it for you, yeah? Didn’t realize you were just here for my services. Should’ve known you were just pretending to love me till you got what you wanted.” He holds up his finished work — a beauty really — in front of you as he finishes his joke. You hum affirmatively, taking it from him and looking it over. 

You inspect it exaggeratedly and with a theatrical sense of casual satisfaction tell him, “Hm, not bad. I was starting to regret the long con, but I think this was worth it.” 

He’s giggling as he gets up, bumping his body against yours before he does, going toward his record collection. He walks over lazily, unhurriedly, his bare feet quiet on the floor, his hand coming up to mess with his hair. His loose, comfy clothes do a lot to hide the muscles you know are lean but strong underneath.

“Come help me choose,” he says over his shoulder as he falls to one knee to scan a lower shelf. Almost a whole wall of his small apartment is covered in shelves, boxes, stacks of records. It looks a mess, but it’s actually meticulously organized by release date.

You follow him, come up just behind him. You crouch, too, not all the way down like him. You lean on him, resting your head atop his, bringing your arms around his shoulders and neck. 

He moans casually, seeming happy, and grabs your arms where they fall across his chest. 

“Oh, Rem. You should know…”

“Hm?” he asks, looking up at you. You look down at him, seeing his warm smile upside down. 

“This is the real reason I’ve pretended to be your friend all these years,” you fake seriousness as you nod toward the records. Remus rolls his eyes, but his smile stretches further across his lovely face. It pulls on a long scar that runs down his cheek. 

“And may I ask how you knew when we were eleven that one day I would own such an epic collection?” 

“Easy. You wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt one of the first days we knew each other.”

He’s taken aback by your giving an actual answer. 

“Did I really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, smiling down at him. The warmth of reminiscing about those childhood years softening you. 

“I think I remember that shirt,” he smiles nostalgically. “How do you remember that?” He twists in your embrace, coming to sit on the floor and pulling you with him. You’re sitting close to each other, and he’s watching you, rapt. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I remember being so nervous and lonely at the beginning. Wanting to make friends. And you seemed nice, so I noticed you.” You shrug again, look down for a moment, not wanting to express embarrassment at a more honest recollection: you had a crush on him immediately, even back then, even before you were really sure what it was you were feeling — that came with the years that followed. “The day you wore that shirt, it was like something familiar I could latch onto. Someone who liked something I liked.” Remus is smiling adoringly at you. Listening as intently as he is, looking as giddy, he looks like a child at the greatest story time ever from his seat on the floor. 

“I even tried to talk to you about it,” you confess, cringing teasingly at yourself.

“Yeah?” He sits up straighter like a puppy hearing someone at the door. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

“I don’t remember that happening.”

“That’s because it didn’t,” you laugh. “I said tried to talk to you. I got too nervous and ran to hide before I could get the words out.” 

He’s shaking his head in disbelief, his smile still plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed you yet.” Remus looks especially contemplative for a moment then hums, biting his lower lip. “It’s crazy. Trying to think of my life before you is like remembering a blank canvas.” 

Your cheeks warm and so does your heart. 

You’re smiling a beaming smile at him but say, “There wasn’t much to notice. I was pretty quiet. And besides, your attention probably couldn’t handle a single thing more given you were getting to know Sirius and James.” He laughs lightly at the good memories but shakes his head at you a little more pronouncedly. 

“I’m sure there was a lot to notice. I was just an idiot. And quiet, too. By comparison to that lot anyway. They spoke enough for the three of us. I probably would’ve wimped out if I’d tried to talk to a pretty girl like you back then.” The edges of his entrancing brown eyes crinkled from his smile. “I mean… to be honest… I’d get nervous for a while, talking to you at first.”

“You didn’t,” you tease but secretly really want to hear more.  

“I did, yeah. Of course I did,” he laughs at himself. “I had a big crush on you. James and Sirius wouldn’t let me live it down for ages.” 

You’re shocked at this news. And maybe your face shows it. What it doesn’t show is how desperately your mind is racing, questioning: “Wait, could things have been otherwise? Did he actually like me as more than a friend at some point? Did I ruin it somehow?”

Remus tenses slightly, his smile no longer reaching his eyes, which are attentive at your reaction. 

“That was a long time ago,” he jokes to fill the silence that is beginning to stretch too long, his tone awkward.

“What happened?” you whisper, unable to help it. 

He takes a second to answer, like he doesn’t know what to say. He’s searching your face, and you’re not sure how much he can read there. 

He shrugs. His face gives an “I don’t know” scowl. He’s trying to escape answering, but you don’t let him.

“Remus,” you laugh and shove him playfully. 

“I don’t know,” he giggles. “I don’t know. Then I got to know you I guess. And we became friends.” 

You give a scoffy laugh. You know he probably didn’t mean it that way, but your stomach sinks at the idea that getting to know you would remedy him of his crush. You’re staring at the floor when his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey, you okay?” He’s trying to keep the playful atmosphere, but you hear true concern in his tone. “Did I say something I shouldn’t’ve?”

You want to say “yes,” but you wouldn’t be able to tell him which part. So, you don’t say anything.

“I didn’t think you’d mind, after all these years,” he says more softly.

“No, Rem. Of course I don’t mind.” You shake your head as if dismissing the idea, attempting a laugh that still comes out strained. “I was just surprised is all.” 

He’s watching you, nodding subtlety, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 

“Let’s choose something, yeah?” you nod next to you toward the wall, desperate to redirect attention.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Remus turns toward the records, skimming across his stacks. A thought catches him, and he moves purposefully toward a different shelf.

“What are you thinking?” you notice, your interest piqued. 

“1971,” he says as if it’s an answer. It is to you. 

1971: the year you met. 

He pulls out a well-worn record, and the strain on your smile finally dissipates to easy delight. You come stand next to him, and he hands it to you. 

“Do you remember how much we listened to that then?” he asks. 

“How could I forget,” you smile, your fingers tracing the cover of Led Zeppelin IV. 

It came out November 1971, but neither of you could get it till at least a month later, during Christmas break from school. When you finally did, the two of you listened to it nonstop. You absolutely loved the album, but you knew you listened to it that much because it was an easy excuse to hang out with Remus. You’d been listening to music together, often just the two of you, ever since.

“Fuck, I remember we’d listen to it in my room,” Remus reminisces. “And even Sirius, the biggest Zeppelin fan of us all, couldn’t take it anymore,” he laughs. “He’d turn it off when he found us listening to it, scolding us for ‘abusing a sacred thing.’”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Oh, look at this,” Remus startles you, excited. He pulls another record off the same shelf.

“This is too perfect,” he giggles. “I didn’t remember this came out then,” he muses, looking it over. “Probably didn’t get my hands on it till much later, I guess. But it’s like it was made for us. For you.” He hands you Just As I Am by Bill Withers, but you still don’t get what he’s saying. He sees your confused look and chuckles. “Second track,” he hints. Your eyes land on “Ain’t No Sunshine.” 

“Sunshine”: Remus’s nickname for you for years. You had Sirius to thank for it actually. He’d said you and Remus were like yin and yang. And since you all already called him “Moony,” you had to be “Sunny.” The other three of you cringed at the sound of that, so he tried “sunshine” instead, conceding it was close enough, and it stuck. Over the years, Sirius and James used it less and less, Remus more and more.

“It’s your song,” Remus urges, knocking his shoulder against yours. “There literally can’t be sunshine when you’re gone because you are sunshine.” He sounds too excited, and it’s adorable. 

“You sound like Sirius saying he’s serious,” you tease. He just laughs and takes the record back.

“Whatever, grumpy. It’s an epic song, and you know it, and now it’s yours, and I don’t care if that’s cheesy.”

“I love it,” escapes you, teasing tone gone. His eyes snap to yours, and he looks at you warmly.

“Alright, sunshine,” he whispers. A beat. “Wanna listen to it?” he asks, voice almost normal again. You nod gladly then go back to the sofa as he sets it up.

Remus soon comes back and joins you. He grabs the spliff from between stacks of snacks you’d prepared for the afternoon then looks over at you.

“Ready, sunshine?”

“Mhhm.”

“You do the honours.” He hands it to you and grabs the lighter. Rather than handing that to you too, he lights it for you as it dangles from your parted lips. 

You take a long drag, feeling it enter you and welcoming it. You cough lightly as you exhale slowly. You are no novice but are still always a cougher. Remus still always giggles when you do, but it’s never mocking. He has a glass of water ready for you, knowing you well, always looking after you. You trade him the water for the spliff, which he proceeds to hit with equal enthusiasm and less wheezing.  

You pass it back and forth for a little while. It’s strong stuff and just three hits in, you feel it engulfing you. The settee feels softer; the music sounds better. 

“Ain’t No Sunshine” is playing, and in your dazed state, you’re sure this is going to be the peak of the album even if it doesn’t coincide with the peak of your high. You close your eyes, and you can feel the music on your skin. 

Remus chuckles next to you, and your face turns to him.

“You look so stoned right now,” he explains, giddy. 

“That’s because I am,” you laugh. Once you start laughing it’s hard to stop; once Remus joins, it’s almost impossible. 

You chat easily, observations and jokes from both of you greatly benefitting from the induced assistance. Remus has a revelation about your listening to HI-fi while high. Your mind is blown multiple times at how deep the lyrics are. 

“They’re all talkin’ at him, but he doesn’t hear a word they’re sayin’, Moons! Not a word! I should do that,” you tell him as if it’s the most urgent thing in the world. He cracks up. “He’s so right, you know? Gotta keep the sun shining through the pouring rain, you know?”

“Uh-huh, I know, sunshine, I know,” he just laughs at you.

“You have such a nice smile, Moony,” you observe, dazed just as much from the feelings perambulating through your system than the pot doing the same.

“Yeah?” he asks, exaggerating it till he’s all teeth and squinty eyes. 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “It looked funny upside down over there,” you remember. “Watch!” 

You flip over on the sofa till your feet are up where your neck should rest and your head is dangling off the edge where your knees would normally be. You smile up at him. Remus doubles over laughing with you, bringing his face much closer to yours as he leans into it. 

“You’re right. Looks funny,” he tells you much more softly than you expected after his cackling. He watches you intently then brings a hand to your upside down face. He traces your features lightly, and it’s warm and tingly. His long finger travels down your nose, across your eyebrows. 

“C’mere,” you whisper to him.

“Where?” he whispers back, his voice a gruff chuckle again. 

“Down here!” you whisper-yell. 

You pull his shoulder down and start kicking his legs up as he contorts until you get him in the same position as you. You end up side by side, upside-down on the sofa. 

Each of you giggles at the other as you steal side glances. Your faces, pulled the wrong way by gravity, softened more than normal by the smoking, look even goofier through your incessant giggles and pointless efforts at holding those back.

You listen, and laugh, to at least a whole song like this. You kick each other’s feet throughout. As one of your kicks brings you closer to Remus, he rolls over to tickle you. You laugh so loud you can’t even hear the record over it. 

“Stop, Rem! Stop!” you plead. “I’m already too dizzy.” 

He keeps it up a moment but soon takes pity on you and helps move your body the right way around, his strong hands manipulating you easily. 

“Alright, dizzy. Enough upside-down,” he says as he fixes your now crazy hair. 

You just nod and shift closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he shuffles to a comfortable height for you, laying his own head on yours. 

A primary reason you enjoy getting high with Remus: you both get snuggly. You’re touchy normally, even more than most best friends you’ve seen, but not overly so. When you’re high, it’s overly so. But it somehow doesn’t feel weird. In fact, it feels wonderful. 

So, it feels wonderful, not weird, when you absentmindedly reach over for his hand. He gives it to you easily, and you begin caressing it. 

“Your skin is so soft, Rem.” You pull his hand closer to you, bringing it close to your face, looking it at like you’ve never seen a hand before. Remus takes the opportunity and quickly grabs at your nose playfully. You giggle at this as he responds to your initial comment.

“In between all the scars maybe.” He sounds matter of fact. There’s a lot less pain in his voice now when he talks about them than when he did in your younger years. You look forward to the day when you hear no pain there at all. 

“No, the scars too,” you correct him gently, and you bring your thumb to a scar that runs from the top of his hand up to his forearm. You trace it with reverence, and he shivers at your touch. You know for a fact you’re the only person in the world he allows to touch them. You’re so grateful for his trust, and in this moment, your emotions heightened, your inhibitions lowered, the vibrations of the music moving through you, you feel the need to tell him so. 

“Thank you for letting me touch you, Moony.” 

Remus has been watching where your hands are connected until now, but at your words, he looks into your eyes. He just looks at you for a long moment. You can’t tell how long, time elongated and indeterminable in your current state, but you’re completely comfortable to sit in it through its entirety, looking straight back at him. 

Eventually, the softest grin blossoms on his face. You mirror it. 

“Thank you for not being afraid to,” he whispers. You genuinely don’t understand. 

“Why would I be?”

“You know what I mean,” he tries to explain. He looks down in shyness but back at you before continuing, “Maybe ‘afraid’ isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s ‘disgusted’ or something…” 

His voice is fading to a low whisper by the end, like the louder the words are the truer they’ll be. 

Without hesitating, you tell him the truth: “Remus, you’re the least disgusting person in the world. You’re beautiful.” He grimaces like he can’t believe you, so you go on. “You are.” 

You turn your body even more toward him, bringing your connected hands to your almost shared lap and bringing your other hand to caress his cheek. 

“Silly Moony. You’re so sickeningly beautiful,” you chuckle. Your hand runs up through his hair. “This hair is ridiculous,” you inform him, tousling it. He leans into your touch like a content puppy. “These eyes.” You trace circles around each of them, first skimming his eyebrows then looping around. “They’re the easiest thing in the world to melt into, no pot needed.” You feel them crinkle as they smile into your compliments. “This nose.” You trace it slowly. “These lips,” you say more softly. You feel his gasp when you touch them then feel nothing, his breath held as you trace them. “And your scars,” you say with some finality. You trace a prominent one across his face. He closes his eyes while you do, opens them again when you reach its end. “You beauty isn’t one to be ruined by scars, Remus Lupin. Your beauty is the kind that incorporates the scar and makes that beautiful too.” 

Remus squeezes your interlaced hands. Your faces are so close to each other that you could see his eyes moisten as you tell him all this. He closes them before full tears form and moves his face that tiny bit closer till his forehead rests on yours. You nuzzle his nose, and he nuzzles yours back. 

“It’s so quiet,” you whisper, breaking the silence — noticing the silence. You didn’t notice when the album ended.  Remus just hums in response. 

The silence is loaded but peaceful. You don’t want to pressure him into having to say something back after you let yourself get so intense with him. It wasn’t about what he said back; it was about his understanding how you saw him, how you hoped he would see himself. 

So, with his eyes still closed, you give the scar that runs across his nose a light kiss, do the same to another larger one across his jaw. Then you bring your head back to his shoulder, snuggling into him to mark the end of the moment, no further pressure necessary. 

Remus shifts his body closer, as close to you as possible. He brings his arm around your shoulders without letting go of your hand. He’s holding you close, and your arm crosses your chest to keep your hands intertwined. He kisses the top of your head — new, sweet — then rests his own there again — familiar, warm. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of his hand. 

You sit together in the quiet a long while. You close your eyes, breathe Remus in, let his body, his presence envelop you then just bask in it. Everything feels pleasantly heavy — the air, his body where it touches yours.

You settle into him, and without your noticing you’re doing it, your hand on his stills. 

“Don’t stop,” he whispers. 

“Hm?” you need to ask, unsure what he means. You look up, and he looks down, and your faces are a breadth away from each other. 

“I liked how you were touching me,” he whispers. “I always like how you touch me,” he adds like a secret. 

He brings his hand that’s not holding yours up to your face. First, the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheekbone then he rests his hand there. His fingers hold your jaw; his thumb caresses your cheek. Like you tend to do, you lean into his touch. 

His gentle, soothing touch flutters your eyes closed. Your inability to see his face makes it less scary to respond, “I always like how you touch me too.”

“Yeah?” he sighs, his hand holding you a bit more tightly, his thumb coming down to graze your bottom lip. You nod slowly, his hand moving with your head.

“Do you ever think about other ways we could touch each other?” he whispers. Your eyes fly open at this and land on his: lidded, dilated, gazing into your own. 

“Do you?” 

“I asked you first,” he giggles. “And I’ve already told you a secret today. It’s your turn.”

“What secret?” Your voices are still soft, whispering even though there’s no need for quiet other than your intimacy demanding it. 

“About my crush.” 

“I had a crush on you too,” you tell him. “So now we’re even.”

“That’s not fair, sunshine,” he smiles. You smile back. 

Then, after a moment, like he can’t help it, “You did?” 

“Of course I did.” 

“What happened?” he echoes. 

“Nothing,” you confess. 

His eyebrows furrow, unsure how to interpret this. His eyes hold hope and trepidation at once. 

“I got to know you… And we became friends…” you continue. His expression falls, and you’re pretty sure you recognize this look as disappointment. But you go on, “And it made me love you all the more.” 

You’re ready to read his expression closely this time, but you don’t get the chance before he’s kissing you, before you’re kissing back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s slow. Deliberate. His lips push on yours; his arms bring you closer. His tongue teases your lips, and though they part in response, his tongue traces them rather than push in. You whimper at the feeling of it, and he moans at your reaction. He breathes you in, covers your whole mouth with his, devouring the sound, devouring you. 

Now his tongue enters your mouth, exploring, playing with yours. You’re not sure whether his movements are slow or whether they just feel slow because you’re still high. You are sure you have no desire to speed any of it up. 

You bring your hands to either side of his face, holding him gently but pulling him to you. He follows easily, and when your chests are almost flush, you trace your hands down to his shirt and pull him on top of you as you lean back, lying down on the sofa.

You keep kissing a deliciously long while then Remus goes beyond your lips, kissing along your jaw leisurely. He mouths at your skin, licking, nipping his way unhurriedly down to your neck. Here he languidly runs his tongue along the length of your neck, kissing your pulse point, nipping behind your ear. 

Everywhere he touches is buzzing, and you shiver at the sensation. When his breath blows cold air on your now wet skin, you shiver even harder, your body shuddering against his above you. He chuckles into the crook of your neck and continues. 

After another while of his working his way down, he has to pull the neck of your shirt down to reach further. You bare your neck to him, loving his exploratory path. 

When his mouth leaves your skin for the first time in several minutes, your impulse is to immediately pull him back to you.

“Let’s take this off,” he whispers sedately, gruffly, tugging at your top. 

You pull it off and don’t waste time unclasping and sliding your bra off as well. Remus looks at you, dopey and delighted, but without further ado, pushes your chest so that you lie back again. His hand stays on you and begins lazily kneading your breast as he brings his mouth back to you.

He kisses the base of your neck and continues his previous ministrations across your collarbones. He seems to be on a mission to trace the entire surface area of your skin with his wandering mouth, and you have every intention of letting him and enjoying every long second of it. 

As he makes his languorous way down your sternum, you arch your back, pushing up into him, and bring your hands to his messy hair, holding him close. You scratch and tug, needing somewhere to release some energy, every part of you he’s touched left humming warm and electric. He groans into your chest, and you’re certain you feel the vibrations move through your skin, across your chest cavity, and into your heart, where they ricochet within it, making it beat faster. 

“Remus,” you whine adoringly. He hums into your skin again in response and speeds up his southward trajectory just the slightest bit. 

His face comes between your breasts, and he runs his teeth down the valley, then licks his tongue up the same path. You shake a little, and his hand squeezes your breast tighter. The other one he mouths across until his tongue traces a slow, wet circle around your nipple. This shoots a hot, jolting current straight from where his mouth is connected to you down to between your legs.

He’s gentle for a while, moving back and forth between your tits, often agonizingly slowly, his hands kneading at your chest all the while. Without your expecting it, though, he bites one of your hard, sensitive nipples and tugs lightly. You squeal and push your chest into his mouth. He keeps going, switching as he fancies between rough and tender. 

At a bite of the side of your breast, you rut up into him, and the movement has you feeling how wet you are. You’ve never been this wet before before direct stimulation. 

Remus holds your hips down to the sofa but moves from your chest to your stomach. His roaming mouth proceeds at its perfect, maddening pace. It meanders to your ribs, down your sides, not following a straight path down. 

Once he eventually reaches the threshold of your pants, he looks up at you. 

Remus looks higher than you’ve ever seen him before. He looks elated, in awe. 

“I want to spend hours and hours on your body like this,” he tells you, nuzzling his face into your lower stomach, kissing it as he detaches from you.

“Remus,” you whimper, running your hand into his hair and inadvertently thrusting your hips up. He chuckles, still sounding high, but his voice is as low as you’ve ever heard it.

He takes your trousers and underwear off in one efficient but slow tug. He pulls his shirt off much faster, and you touch all his skin you can reach before he’s repositioning himself.

Your thighs feel cold now uncovered, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of fresh air on your soaking cunt. As you adjust your body, you feel a thick wetness drip from your entrance down to where your arse meets the sofa. You feel the coldness of that wetness even more as Remus pushes your legs further apart to position himself between them. 

You’re completely sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, but you’re not sure if you could possibly be as wet as you feel, thinking the high could be heightening your sensation of it. You’re worried it’s too much, worried you’ll put Remus off. 

“I can clean up a little if —“ you start, but you’re cut off by Remus diving in, running his flat tongue slowly, firmly up from the base of your puddle up to your pubic bone. A strangled, prolonged gasp functions as the end of your sentence.

When Remus licks you again, your thighs shake on either side of his head. You feel him laugh into your cunt, and this time you imagine the vibrations shooting all the way up your body, following the chaotic roadmap his mouth left lingering across it.

Remus pulls back from you and rests his chin on your pubic bone, looking up at you. 

He informs you simply, “You taste delicious, darling.” He looks drunk on it. 

“Everything tastes better when you’re high,” you tease.

“Then I’m really going to enjoy this,” he smiles. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll get me high just by letting me do this other times.” 

“Other times?” 

“Well, yeah…” he giggles. His eyes bore into yours even though he’s the length of your torso away. “I though this was a first, not an only…”

“Good.” You sound giddy. “Just checking.”

“Silly,” he shakes his head at you. You thrust your hips up and laugh at the expression he makes when you bump his face, like he’s dazed. He squeezes your thigh harshly where he’s holding you. 

“Behave, sunshine. It’s feeling dangerous down here.” 

“I thought you were enjoying it.” 

“I am.” A bite at your hip. “And I’m seriously getting the munchies, so just…” You don’t understand the end of his sentence, the words muffled against your skin as he starts eating you out.

It’s heavenly. High as you are, in love as you are, you think you’re on cloud nine. This gets you wondering where such an odd expression even comes from. It seems so random. 

“Moony?”

“Hmm?” is grunted into your cunt.

“Why do you think it’s called being on cloud nine?”

He pulls back. The whole lower half of his face shines in your slick. 

“Why are you thinking about that right now? Am I that bad at this?”

“Bad? It’s amazing.” You ruffle his hair in your groping hands. “Which is why I’m on cloud nine, which is why I’m thinking about that right now. Your hair is as soft as clouds, Moons.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am not,” you giggle.

“Are,” he teases.

“Can you keep going now? It felt so good. Your mouth is ridiculous.” You thrust your hips up at him again.

“Ridiculous and bossy,” he complains, but he’s smiling hard, and before you can even think of a retort, he does as you bid. 

His mouth takes its time between your legs. He spends eternities teasing you: mouthing at the tops of your thighs, licking up your bikini line, nipping at your clit without giving it the attention he knows you want from how loud you whine every time he gives it the slightest graze. He loves all over your vulva, not leaving any part untouched, unworshipped. His tongue fucks into your entrance languidly; it swirls there. He licks your labia, sucks on it, gives the same attention to your clit when you moan loud enough. He travels back and forth, seemingly enjoying all of it too much to stick to any one attention too long. The next time he lands on your clit, he prolongs it.

Your legs shake; your back arches; your whines grow loud before turning strangled, and Remus takes his cue to reserve the relaxed approach for later. He picks up his pace, gripping your thighs tightly and shakes his whole face into you, alternating between licking and sucking rhythmically at your clit. You cum hard, and it feels like it goes on for minutes. 

With your eyes closed, you truly feel like you’re floating, your only anchor to the world Remus Lupin where you feel his body attached to yours. 

You’re laughing in pleasure, and the laughs turn to pants as you slowly, slowly come down. You love coming down to an already high baseline, and you giggle at the sensation of relaxing into a still heightened state. 

It suddenly strikes you it feels like it’s been years since you talked to Remus, heard his mellifluous voice, and you startle your eyes open searching for him. 

You see him immediately. He’s gazing at you with equal parts ardor and adoration, but when he sees your expression, his shifts to concern. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, my love?” He rushes to hover just above you. His face is close to yours again, though it’s scanning all over your body. His hand holds your face gently, his other arm holding him up. “Did something feel bad? Does something hurt?” 

“No, no, I’m fine, Moons, I’m fine,” you rush to reassure. “I just missed you,” you explain.

“Missed me?” His eyes shoot to yours. “I’m right here, love; what do you mean you missed me?” He can’t help a subtle giggle, and his adoring expression takes back its rightful place on his beautiful face. 

“I just thought I hadn’t seen you in too long.” Your hands caress his face, thread through his hair. “Or heard your voice…” 

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning into your touch. “I’m right here. What do you want me to say?”

“Anything,” you smile. 

“I love you.” 

You’ve heard them before, but never like this, and they’re the best words in the world, in the universe. 

“Remus,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. He tastes intensely of you, and you laugh into the kiss. “I’m sorry I got you so… so slicky.”

“I don’t mind,” he chuckles. “Means it was good, right?”

“Beyond. ‘Good’ is like… like one colour out of a whole rainbow for how that just felt.” 

He’s beaming down at you and kisses you again, lingering there. 

When he finally separates from you, his caressing thumb comes to wipe some slick at the corner of your lip. You grab his hand and kiss each of his fingers lightly. Then you lick down his long index finger, your tongue finding and following a scar up his hand to his wrist.

You look into his eyes, and he’s staring at you, transfixed. 

“I was thinking about your fingers when you were rolling the spliff.” 

“Yeah?” His voice is a desperate sigh. 

“Yeah.”

“What were you thinking about?” 

“How beautiful your hands are. How they’d feel touching me… How your fingers would feel inside me…”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You wanna find out?”

“Yes,” you moan. 

“Get them nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.” They’re already lingering at your lips, but he slowly pushes them in. You welcome them enthusiastically and lazily suck on them, swirl your tongue around them.

“Fuck.” His voice is low. “Fuck, I want to feel everything there is to feel with you.”

“Mmm,” you nod, your mouth still full. 

Remus takes his fingers out, kisses you, and lets his mouth stay on yours as his fingers trace down your chin, your chest, your stomach steadily, leaving a wet path. When they reach between your legs, you squirm in anticipation. 

He rubs a couple of tight, slow circles on your clit. You’re so sensitive, and it feels amazing. You mewl into his mouth where it still hovers just above yours. 

“Ready, my sunshine?” 

“Mmhhmm.”

Remus pushes two fingers into you ever so slowly. You release a low, slow whine the whole time he takes to press in. He gives you gentle kisses, eating it up. When his fingers are in to the hilt, you wonder how you didn’t feel devastatingly empty every moment of your life before this one. When he adds a third, you’re sure you will every moment after.

You clench purposefully around him, and he moans into your mouth. Closing your eyes again, it’s the easiest thing to let yourself be consumed by the sensations, by Remus. 

When he curls his fingers inside you, you clench again, this time automatically. You grip his hair and clutch his back, your arms pulling his body close to yours. 

The spot he starts massaging feels like it’s a blazing fire, but everywhere else you’re connected, your chests, your mouths, is scattered scalding embers.

You’re savouring every second, every sensation, already feeling another high building but relishing in the time it’ll take to get there. 

You run your hands down Remus’s back, feeling the bumps of his scars, the grooves of his defined muscles. For the first time all afternoon, you feel a desire to hurry… 

You start moving your hips to meet his rhythm, eager, even more than for your own climax, for your turn to take your time on him. 

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin smut #marauder x reader #marauders fanfic #sirius black #james potter #marauders fluff #marauders smut #remus lupin oneshot #friends to lovers

[party-hearses]

don’t be a brat, baby | joel miller x f!reader

sequel to relax, baby

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI

wordcount: 7.2k

summary: in a desperate attempt to get back into Joel’s arms, you brave a night at the bar with your coworkers.

series warnings/tags: porn with some plot (oops), explicit smut, unprotected piv, creampie, pet names (princess, baby), language, size kink, praise kink, public sex (kinda), bulge kink, joel and reader being a menace to everyone around them. lmk if I’m forgetting anything!

author's note: thank you so much for all the love on relax, baby! i honestly can’t believe how many people requested a part two. i had so much fun writing this. comments, reblogs, asks, feedback, etc. are SO SO SO appreciated! i swear i don’t bite. 🫶

🖤 dedicated to @nostalxgic forever and always

Monday morning comes both too quickly and not quickly enough.

Declining all invitations from friends over the weekend, you had been all too content to remain in your bedroom, hands shoved down the front of your underwear, the film reel of Joel’s hands on you a constant replay in your mind. Joel’s everything, if you’re being honest.

A mixture of excitement and anxiety coils in the pit of your belly, overflowing into your extremities. You flex your fingers against the steering wheel in an attempt to diffuse some of the nervous energy, but the knowledge that you’re walking — falling — into unknown territory sits at the forefront of your mind.

Can he fire you for fucking in the office? Even if it was him you were fucking?

When you arrive, Joel’s truck isn’t in the lot, but that’s standard for this early in the morning — he’s made it clear he’s not an early-to-rise, early-to-work kind of guy.

There’s some comfort in knowing if he shows up at all, it won’t be until later in the day. The ability to shove off the inevitable strangeness, whatever shape it may take, allows you to actually get out of your car and get moving.

But as you unlock and open the door, the celluloid frames of your memory catch fire — burning the imprint of Joel’s body hovering above yours, the thick ropes of the muscles in his neck drawn taut, into the spaces that burst with color behind your eyelids.

A heated flush creeps across your collarbones, the distinct recognition of arousal blooming in your chest.

You shove the feeling all the way down to your toes, sweeping your gaze across the surface of the desk.

It does look somewhat neater than it had when you’d left, everything stacked in the appropriate piles, the receipt book tucked away in the drawer. Credit where credit is due, you think, wondering how defiled the paperwork actually is, and if Joel would have even noticed.

Settling in to try to determine if any of it is salvageable (it is…regrettably), you do what you can to ignore the pavlovian-like wetness pooling at your core. Just being in the office, being seated in the chair, makes it difficult not to drop your fingers between your thighs at the memory of it. For a split second, you consider if it’s something you could get away with.

Pushing back from the desk, stretching the lengths of your arms against the lip of it, you drop your head back, releasing a long, slow breath. Get it the fuck together. You will not masturbate at work to the thought of your boss. Even if your boss had let slip that he masturbated to the thought of you…

Oh, god.

Caffeine. You need caffeine. Of course you need caffeine, because coffee fixes everything — including your need to have Joel’s cock jammed into the furthest reaches of you as soon as possible.

Grateful for something tangible and decisive, you rush out of the office, barely remembering to lock the door behind you.

Your blood now buzzing with the first few sips of an iced latte, you push the door to the office open with your hip, the already too-hot morning sun pouring into the room around you.

“Mornin’, princess.”

You freeze, fingers gripping the sweating plastic cup in your hand. Cunt throbbing at the deep baritone of his voice, a dull ache pulling across your lower half. The realization that you hadn’t needed to unlock the door dawns on you.

He’s seated at the desk, pushed back with both feet kicked up on the surface of it. Arms bent at the elbow into acute angles, fingers laced behind his head. The sun paints him in a silhouette, hiding his strong, angular features.

If you weren’t practically salivating just from the sight of him, you’d wonder why the fuck he always seemed to need to have his dirty work boots all over your paperwork.

“Joel,” you whisper breathily, “didn’t know you’d be here this early.” Any irritation you feel is washed out by arousal. Goddamnit.

Mechanically, you kick the door closed behind you, the click of the latch settling into your bones.

Joel hums stoically, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Get anythin’ done this mornin’?” he asks, pointedly.

Dragging your lower lip into your mouth with your teeth, you shake your head slowly. The anxiety you’d been feeling all morning flares, threatening to spill over.

Can you file for unemployment if you’ve fucked your boss?

“Nah, me either.” He slaps the palms of his hands spiritedly against the flat of the desk, pushing himself up off the chair. “Been a little…distracted.”

His face relaxes into a dangerous smirk, eyebrow quirked, gaze burning into you.

Arrogant motherfucker.

You plant your free hand on your hip. “Really? Playing the fucking ‘boss’ card?”

“Yeah, I’m playin’ the fuckin’ boss card.”

He laughs, his dark eyes glowing with what you can only call depravity — a commanding acknowledgement of what he knows he’s doing to you. Like he could swallow you whole, if given the chance.

You’d let him, you think.

“Can’t be here long,” he says lowly, eyes roving over you — devouring you. “Have a few sites to be at this week. Only stopped by to make sure everything here was…goin’ okay.”

The invisible addendum hangs in the air between you: to torture you.

His long legs bring him to stand in front of you in just a few short steps, his heady scent all-consuming. Clean, comfortable, him. There are only a few inches of space between your bodies, and the tips of your fingers tingle with a need to run them over the solid plane of his chest. To drag them through his unkempt waves.

His presence is imposing — commanding the room, even when it’s just you inside it. Looking down at you, chin angled, he curls his fingers into the plush of your cheeks. It makes the electricity crackling between the two of you that much more real, the doubt you had earlier melting away beneath his touch.

“Baby,” he growls darkly, leaning in to trace the shell of your ear with his nose, “thought about you all fuckin’ weekend.” His free hand snakes around your waist, dropping to squeeze the flesh of your ass through your shorts. “Looked at that picture ‘f you full ‘f my cum so many times.”

Your eyes widen, pupils dilating at the thought of him jerking off to the thought of you, just like you had him. It’s an almost jealous feeling that rolls through you — how unfair that he got to have a visual reminder of it, when all you had was your thoughts.

But it emboldens you.

“Joel,” you pout, speech lilted by his fingers pressing into your flesh, “don’t want you to leave.” You’re not used to being so forward, but you’re also not used to spending entire weekends giving yourself orgasm after orgasm from memories alone.

He gently pulls his hand away from your mouth, the sting of his grip still firm across your face. He doesn’t let go completely, and dragging your bottom lip with his thumb, he juts his own out in mock sympathy. The speed of your heart picks up.

“I’m the boss, remember, princess? Got shit to do.”

Your cheeks burn, eyes narrowing. A reminder that he can be such a fucking dick.

Catching your expression, he laughs again, before dropping his head to kiss up the length of your neck.

“My poor baby. Has to actually get work done today.” It’s a whisper against the hollow of your throat, sending chills rippling through you.

You’re not that naive, despite the way he has you under his spell.

“Fuck off, Joel.” You push your hand against his solid chest, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he catches your wrist in the smooth palm of his hand, pulling you to meet his mouth. The arm that’s still wrapped around your waist drags you further into his body, and you have to stand on your tiptoes to match the intensity of him crashing his lips to yours.

He doesn’t wait for permission before rolling his tongue against yours, taking everything you have to offer. Tracing up the lines of your neck with the rough pads of his fingers, he wraps the thick length of them just below your ear, tipping your head back with his thumb to open you up for him. As he deepens the kiss, you can taste the robust richness of his morning coffee. You briefly consider what it would be like to be the one to make it for him every day.

It’s easy to lose yourself in him, the hypnotic rhythm of his mouth against yours, so it catches you off guard when he pulls back delicately, large hand still cradling your jaw.

“Really have to go, baby,” he says in a murmur against your mouth.

You whimper against him, but acquiesce by untangling yourself from his grip. The ice in your latte has long melted, and you move to chuck it in the trash next to the desk.

Before you can, Joel shoots one arm out across your chest, nuzzling into you to run his nose along the line of your jaw, up to the curve of your ear.

“Still have the panties I ripped off you,” he purrs. “Filled those with my cum, too.”

The rest of the week is much of the same, except you can’t actually get Joel’s hands on you at all. Even in passing.

He’s in and out of the office, finding and filing paperwork, taking and making phone calls, dropping crumpled receipts into your waiting hands. Business as usual.

Seemingly just as frustrated by it as you are, the most you get is a quick nip to the slope of your shoulder as he argues with a supplier.

“Asshole,” he mouths, pointing to his cell phone with his other hand.

You would be a little less tightly wound if it was just Joel, but it almost never is. There’s a steady stream of his guys dawdling around the office at almost all times, your brother being there most consistently. As if he possesses a sixth sense to crowd you out of any chance at revisiting the best dick you’ve ever had.

On Wednesday, he’s picking his fingernails in the chair across the desk, while you work through a spreadsheet of the past month’s expenditures. Mumbling to yourself, eyes focused on the totals, half-listening to him complain about how expensive a wedding is.

“Adam,” you interrupt, breaking your gaze away from the laptop screen. “Obviously weddings are fucking expensive. If you were gonna bitch about it nonstop, why did you even get engaged?”

A beat of silence.

“Damn, what’s your problem?” he sneers after a moment, brows knitted together in what you can assume is annoyance.

I need to be dicked down by our fucking boss, you think, but roll your eyes at him, instead.

“I’m busy.”

Adam snorts.

“Molly would be pissed to hear you talking about your wedding like that, anyway. I’m just doing her a favor.” The end of your sentence tapers off quietly, as you switch your stare back to the screen.

You are partial to Adam’s fiancée, if not for her bubbly personality, for letting you crash with them between semesters every summer.

“I see where your loyalty lies,” he scoffs, raising himself out of the chair. “Thought we were family.”

“Yeah, Adam, me not letting you talk shit about your upcoming wedding is disloyal,” you respond with a single, hollow laugh, distractedly typing a figure into a blinking cell.

He chuckles, running the toe of his boot along the worn carpet.

“Guys’re goin’ out Friday. I can tell Molly that you two can have a girls night. Drink wine and shit. Since that’s who's back you have.”

Keeping your eyes fixed to the screen, you’re desperate to play it casual, despite the intense prickle of your skin. Will Joel be there?

“Or I could come bug the shit out of you, since you love to do that while I’m trying to work.”

“You’re always invited, princess,” he drawls.“‘M sure the guys would love to see you.”

Every part of your body shudders. Typical Adam, upping the ante of disgusting. You choose to ignore it.

“Your boss usually go to these things?” you ask instead, words measured. You don’t dare glance over at your brother, fearing he’d read the intent all over your face.

But he shrugs, unfazed. “Sometimes. Depends, I guess.”

“On what?” This time you do look at him, but his eyes are fixed on his phone screen, thumb scrolling lazily.

He mumbles something that you don’t catch, obviously distracted by what he’s seeing. Useless.

Knowing he’s moved on from the conversation, you sigh with a certain air of disappointment. You could go, you know, on the off-chance that Joel does show up, but the idea of being there alone with your brother and his work friends makes you wrinkle your nose.

Adam turns to leave, throwing a quick see ya over his shoulder as he pulls the door open.

“Hey! Let me know about Friday!” you call after him, raising yourself up on your arms, a half-assed attempt to make sure he hears you.

He’s already on the other side, door whipping shut behind him.

Aggravated, you sink back into the desk chair, raising your fists to settle your chin on them. You feel like a petulant child, continuously denied the thing you want so bad.

There’s a whole part of you that wants to kick and scream until you get it, until Joel is soothing your angry tears with his mouth pressed to your flesh, smoothing out the knots in your limbs, reaching into the most tender recesses of you to undo you.

Ruined, you think, as you draw your knees together tightly in an attempt to relieve the throb of your cunt.

It’s Friday when you’re eating lunch (the saddest salad you’ve ever seen and the dredges of your iced coffee at the desk) when he texts you.

> J Miller: going w your bro tonite?

Your stomach flips. The restlessness that you’ve been feeling all week suddenly dials up to a 10 — an elastic compulsion that weaves itself into your lungs, your breath catching in your chest.

It’s the first time he’s texted you for non-work related things, which, much to your annoyance, should have been immediately after he made you see stars with his cock.

Either way, you’ve never texted anyone back faster.

> Me: are you?

Logic tells you to play coy, to make him wait, but it’s been an entire week since the cosmic shift of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, and you’re going out of your mind trying to get another one. There’s no use in pretending.

>J Miller: i am if you will b

Dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, you suppress a grin.

It’s starting to look like you’re not the only one who’s ruined.

The bouncer eyes you up and down, and you’re half-tempted to lean over just a little to showcase your cleavage. The stretchy black dress you’re wearing barely covers your ass, but leaves just enough to the imagination.

You have a feeling that Joel will want to tear it off you, too.

“You alone?” the bouncer asks, gaze flicking between your ID and you.

“My friends are inside,” you coo. “Just gotta meet them.”

He grunts, nodding his head and handing you back the flimsy piece of plastic.

“Gimme a shout if anyone gives you a hard time.”

Flashing the biggest smile you can, you shimmy past him, into the dark bar. Inside, the smell of stale beer and spilled liquor meets you, and you scan the bustling space for anyone you know. The first person you spot is your brother, who waves you over, a pint of dark beer in his hand.

You feel sexy, but overdressed. An upscale cocktail bar The Hideout is not.

As you make your way over to the table, you notice a few recognizable faces from work crowded around, a majority of them sweeping their eyes over your form.

“Hey, Princess. Lookin’ good tonight,” jeers a guy you’ve seen around the site. Kevin? Maybe? Or Alex?

You raise your brows at him, lips pursed. You’ve always hated the nickname, but it feels distinctly wrong now, like it belongs to Joel. You’d like to tell him as much, shove it back in his mouth until he chokes.

But Kevin-or-Alex brings his beer to his lips, eyes still roving over you, corners of his mouth upturned in a sneer.

Moving along, brushing it off, you tip your head to the side, begging your brother for a drink with your eyes.

You don’t need to look around the table to know that Joel is at the end of it, because you can feel his stare burning into you. It takes everything in you to not climb over the guys seated next to him so you can settle in his lap, to grind your hips down into his, but the thought certainly crosses your mind. Knowing you can’t meet his eyes without giving yourself away, you take in the bar around you, gaze bouncing from table to table.

Adam tugs you back from the precipice of your reverie by knocking the table with his knuckles and standing from his chair.

“Gotta get the princess a drink,” he explains to his companions, much to the delight of them all gathered around the table. They laugh uproariously, like he’s just told the best joke of the century. Idiots.

Your brother steers you towards the bar with a hand on the small of your back, and you’re careful to sway your hips just enough as you walk away from the cluster of tables, knowing that Joel is watching. Adam sets his arms across the bartop, and you mirror him, trepidation bubbling in your stomach.

“You good?” he asks over the jukebox, currently blaring a Van Halen song.

“Mmhmm,” you reply, gazing at the bottles of liquor behind the bar.

“You never come out with us,” Adam continues, raising a hand to flag down the bartender. “Kinda weird.”

You shrug, cheeks heating at his questioning. “Dunno. Felt like…I should get to know the guys better.”

He angles his body to you, running his palm over his mouth. There’s a playful look in his eyes, one that you know means he sees right the fuck through you. “Ookay, weirdo. The same guys whose necks you want to wring for calling you ‘princess’ on a daily basis?”

“You call me that, too, asshole.”

He laughs loudly, turning away as the bartender finally makes his way down the bar to the pair of you.

“Vodka water, and a Rumple Minze shot,” you tell him, as he leans in to hear your order over the music.

A quick nod, a swift maneuvering of bottles, and your drinks are pushed in front of you.

“Thank god,” you mumble, picking the cocktail up and sipping it immediately.

“You’re, uh…attracting quite a bit of attention,” Adam says in a low voice, gesturing subtly back to the table of your coworkers.

“Wow, you fuckin’ think?” you roll your eyes, throwing the shot of schnapps back. There’s only one pair of eyes you want on you, and they’re connected to the dick you need in you.

“I’ve never seen you this…” Adam leans into you, bumping your shoulder, “cranky before. Why’d you come out if you’re in a bad mood?”

You soften, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been…a little too in my own head lately.”

The understatement of the century, considering that’s where Joel has made a home.

Adam doesn’t respond, just signals to the bartender, ordering you another shot with a flick of his head in your direction.

The shots go down too easy, your skin flushing with the alcohol and body heat of the bar. You stick close to Adam’s side, and it feels like hours before you allow yourself to glance over at Joel.

Your brother is arguing with someone else about the structure of something you don’t care about when you finally work up the courage to do so, anxiously chewing bites into the plastic straw in your drink.

Joel is staring right back at you, same dangerous smirk pulled across his mouth. Watching the way your lips mold around the plastic, teeth scraping the flexible material. You know that smirk all too well, and want blossoms through your body.

The guy next to him is obliviously chatting his ear off, entirely unaware that Joel can’t take his eyes off of you. But he doesn’t make any kind of move to get up, or any kind of indication that he wants you to come over, so you stay rooted to the spot, entirely unsure how to proceed.

Some kind of frustration churns in your stomach, though you allow yourself to shoot him a coy smile over the rim of your glass. He returns the gesture by dipping his chin just slightly and raising his own drink to his mouth.

Whiskey, neat. The thought of tasting it on his tongue makes your cunt clench with need, and you have to look away to keep your composure.

He doesn’t even need to try, and you melt in the palm of his hand. Fuck.

You finish the rest of your drink in one go to try to settle your nerves, and nudge Adam with your elbow to let him know you’re headed back to the bar. He barely acknowledges you, still enthralled with his conversation.

As you slide up to the bartop, you bump shoulders with the person already waiting for another beer.

“Oh! Oops. My bad. Didn’t really…calculate my proximity, I guess.” You giggle as he turns to you, meeting your gaze with a shy smile.

He’s cute, in a fresh-faced and innocent kind of way. Golden brown hair and light eyes, about your age. His navy blue polo hangs a little too loose on his gangly frame, and it’s too easy to imagine him dressed as a mormon missionary to take him seriously.

“No worries. This place is pretty crowded,” he answers, angling his chin down to make sure you hear him.

The way he draws himself close gives you the wickedest of ideas. One that will surely make Joel get out of his seat and pay you the attention you so desperately deserve.

“It’s definitely the place to be, huh?” You purr, flicking your eyes up under your lashes to meet his, gently placing your hand on his forearm.

There’s an immediate dusting of crimson over his cheekbones, and you see him swallow hard.

“Y-yeah, it…it sure is.” There’s the slightest of drawls to his words, like syrup poured over pancakes on a sunday morning. It’s nothing compared to the thunder of Joel’s baritone, the sensual velvet of a saturday night shot of whiskey.

But you keep going, acutely aware of Joel’s eyes burning into your back. Tracing the curves and lines of you, watching every move you make. Watching you put your hands on someone else’s body, the hands that belong to him.

At least…that’s what you hope is going through his head.

The bartender slides your new friend’s beer across the warped wood, looking pointedly at you for your order next.

“Vodka water,” you grin, not removing your hand from the freckled forearm, “with a lemon. Please.”

New friend clears his throat, growing redder by the second.

“On my tab, please.”

“Ohmygod, you don’t need to do that!” You sigh warmly, stupidly. As if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

The drink is placed in front of you in no time, but you still haven’t moved your hand. Instead, you look up at your companion, lashes fluttering.

“You from here?” he manages to choke out, before washing the cliche down with a swig of his beer.

You nod, finally breaking contact to pick up the tumbler of vodka. “Born and raised. You?”

“Here for school. ‘M from Baton Rouge.”

Turning your body to face the open room of the bar, eyes flitting over the crowded space, you lean back on your elbows, drink in hand poised just below the swell of your breasts. There’s no way Joel can miss you, now.

“What’re you studying?” You couldn’t be less interested, but you keep your voice chipper and high, drawing him closer.

“PoliSci. I’m pre-law.” He says it with an air of confidence, which you can’t blame him for. It is impressive.

You take a long sip of your drink, considering how much you want to divulge about yourself to this stranger. How far you’re willing to take this game. You sneak a glance over at Joel, who’s watching you with an amused expression, brows lifted.

“Are you in school?” New friend continues, unaware of the come-fuck-me vibes you’re radiating from across the bar.

But Joel remains planted in his seat, thick thighs spread, left arm draped between them. Leaning back in the booth, matching your energy. Playing the game.

Snapping your attention back to the question, you nod again. “Not here, though. I’m in a masters program in Washington.”

“Do you like it there?”

You throw your head back in laughter, all too aware how ridiculous of a response it is to the question.

“I love it,” you say emphatically, still giggling. “So different from Austin.”

When you look at Joel again, he’s turned his attention to the guy next to him, nodding at whatever he’s saying intently. It stokes the frustration in you, and you can’t help but draw your face into a scowl — an entire 180 from how you’d just been laughing at a non-joke.

Before your new friend can respond to your maniacal answer, you push yourself off the bartop and turn towards him.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom really quick, okay?”

As you wash your hands, the door to the bathroom opens quickly, and Joel ducks inside, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one sees. He pushes it closed behind him, fingers clicking the lock shut like he owns the place.

“Oh,” you gasp in surprise, stepping back from the sink and wiping your hands across the material of your dress. “I didn’t…you’re not…Joel!”

His name comes out of your mouth as a yelp as he crowds you back against the counter, his hands already roaming over the hills and valleys of your body. Wasting no time.

“Baby,” he coos, dipping his head to trail kisses up the curve of your shoulder, “been waitin’ all night for you to go to the fuckin’ bathroom.”

You curl your fingers into his biceps to keep yourself steady while he presses wet kisses to your throat and jaw, before landing at your mouth. Gripping your hips tightly, his thigh nudges between yours, spreading you open. You do what you can to meet his fervor, but as with everything else, he’s domineering — completely in control.

His thick hands drag you up his thigh, into him, and the friction of his jeans against you makes you bite back a moan. He repeats the action with more intensity, obviously dismayed that you’re holding back, quickly establishing a grueling rhythm.

Squirming under his hold, he tastes the desperation on your tongue, and when you finally break and whimper into his mouth, he growls back into yours.

He has you exactly where he wants you — writhing in his arms, soft and compliant to what he needs.

At least, he thinks he does.

You dig your fingernails into the flannel stretched over his arms, steeling your body to his movements, pulling away from the heat of his mouth.

“Joel,” it’s a drawn out lilt, one that he’ll never get tired of hearing.

“Saw you over there tryna make me jealous, princesa,” he mutters, chest heaving against your own. He drops his mouth to press against the burning skin of your collarbone, and you can feel the stretched restraint in his muscled body.

“Wasn’t trying to make you jealous, Joel,” you protest quietly, though you both know it’s the furthest thing from the truth.

He laughs darkly, his breath fanning against your flesh. “Saw you touchin’ all up on some stranger.”

“I was just being nice. He bought me a drink.” You’re pouting now, sliding your open palms to press against the solidity of Joel’s chest.

He whips your body around so quickly that you have to shoot your arms out to the counter to catch yourself. The mirror greets you, and it’s impossible to miss your glowing skin and kiss-swollen lips. It doesn’t take anything for him to make you look entirely fucked out.

Hooking his chin over your shoulder, front pressed flush to your back, he drags his hands up the sides of your body, stopping to rest just below your breasts. His fingers splay out across your rib cage, nearly meeting in the middle.

Eyes meeting yours in the mirror, he smirks.

“Look what I do to you, baby. No one else can do that. Look at yourself.”

He rolls his hips against the swell of your ass, and you can feel his length through his jeans.

Your vision goes cloudy, the want you’ve been feeling all week flooding every part of your brain. You drop your head between your shoulders, relishing the feel of him pressed into you. But he quickly cranes your chin back up in his hands, angling your head to watch the glistening reflection of the two of you.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he says thickly, commandingly, as he continues to move against you. You obey.

“Can’t make me jealous, princess.”

Anger flares in your chest, slowly ebbing into embarrassment. Of course he would see right through you. You should have known better. You don’t break eye contact.

“That picture I have ‘f you? That tells me you’re mine. Can’t make me jealous when I know what belongs t’me.”

You inhale sharply. Hearing him say it, hearing him mean it, sends shivers over the entirety of your body.

“Why’d it take you so long to come over to me, then?”

His eyes flash. “Don’t be a fuckin’ brat, baby.”

Dropping his clutch from your chin to the top of your dress, he uses both hands to scoop your tits out over the bodice of it, palming the weight of them roughly. He rolls your nipples in his fingers, and you have dejavú of the week before.

This time you can see the way his fingers move, the way he watches your face in the reflection of the mirror more than anything else.

You moan, arching your back against his chest, and he drops one hand further to bunch the length of your dress over your ass.

Feeling entirely bare skin, he hisses through his teeth and pulls back to look.

“No panties, baby?”

You smile darkly. “Didn’t want you to ruin another pair.”

“Fuuuuck,” he mumbles, leaning down to flick his tongue against the base of your spine. “Knew you were fuckin’ trouble.”

He rucks your dress up higher, following the hem of it with open mouth kisses and demanding nips. You can feel your dripping slick on the insides of your thighs, and as if he can read your mind, he lays one open palm across your back to press your cheek down into the counter, slotting the other between your thighs to open you up for him. Your breathing quickens, knowing how on display you are.

How under his thumb you are.

Teasing the rough pads of his fingers against your core, electricity rolls through your extremities. Between the flush of the alcohol and the thrill of his touch, you know you’re done for.

“See, baby? How wet y’are? Know it’s only for me.”

Anticipation coils in the pit of your belly, waiting for him to plunge a thick finger inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, laser focused on every nudge and slip of his digits.

Instead, you feel him replace his finger with the thick heft of his cock at your entrance, your hands unsuccessfully scrambling for purchase on the slick marble of the counter.

“Joel,” you yelp, the delicious stretch of it seared into your mind, “I..I don’t kn-”

“You can take it, princess,” he interrupts gruffly. “You can.”

You respond with a strangled noise, knees buckling under the warning press of his palm on your back.

Reading the apprehension in your body, Joel grazes the fingers of his other hand over the curve of your hip, rubbing reassuring circles into your flesh. They dance up over your belly, finally grasping at your ribs. His mouth follows, gentle kitten licks that calm your breathing, until he stops right below where your breasts are compressed against the counter, sinking his teeth there into the soft give of you.

Both of his hands float back down to your hips, pressing their length into your bones roughly, dragging your ass back to push the tip inside of your slick folds.

Your eyes fly open, and you mewl as his teeth give way to an intense sucking sensation, as if he’s intent on marking you.

Knowing him, he is.

“Okay, baby?” he murmurs against your skin, once he’s satisfied with what you can feel is an angry red mark on your rib cage, sliding his hips forward to give you another inch, working you open, open, open.

“‘F we had more time, you know I’d do it right,” he continues, an almost tender cadence to his harsh whisper.

You nod, cheek still smooshed against the countertop, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. He’s so fucking much.

His breath hitches as he buries himself further, the tight quiver of your perfect pussy making him see stars. He stills for just a moment, letting you adjust to him, lamenting the fact that he couldn’t get his fingers or tongue in you this time. But he’s so very desperate, has been waiting for this for far too long.

He wants to take you home with him, wrap you in his bedsheets. Undo you over and over and over.

For now, though, he will make do with what he has. And what he has is you, wet and needy beneath him, taking his cock like a good girl. Like a perfect girl.

“Joel,” you whisper, snapping him out of his reverie. “More. More please.”

You’re dizzy with need, aching to feel him stretch you open entirely.

He can taste the salt of sweat on your skin, the light sheen of it glittering under the fluorescent bar lights. It makes his heart ache with something he can’t name.

Rolling his head to press his forehead against your back, he can’t help but breathe you in. This is where he wants to be forever — pressed into you, feeling you tremble and keen for him. For him, and only him.

Unable to hold back any longer, he draws his body up, sliding inside to the hilt, pelvis pressed flush to your ass.

There are tears trickling from beneath your closed eyelids now, and he wants to lick them off your face, smooth out the pain in your features. Your body is taut, wound around the throbbing need you’re both feeling, your hands clenched into fists next to your head.

But he watches as you slowly drag your bottom lip between your teeth, sighing contently, savoring the sparks of pain from the size of him. Fucking perfect.

His entire cock has disappeared into your warmth, and you squeeze him like you were made to do so.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he manages to spit out, setting a pace that feels like you’re being split open. It’s exactly what you need.

You rock your hips, pushing back against his thrusts, thigh muscles screaming.

“So full,” you babble back, his hips snapping against the plush of your ass. Giving you everything you need, everything you’ve craved. His tip nudges the furthest part of you, and fireworks explode in your stomach. Your moans pick up at the same pace as his thrusts, and his grip tightens around your hips.

“C’mere baby,” he hums, arcing his arm across your chest to drag you up to him. You can feel the desperation in his movements, the stuttering of his hips as the new angle squeezes his cock deliciously.

He curls his fingers around the base of your throat, and for the first time, you see how absolutely fucked he looks. Black pupils blown wide with lust, strong jaw set to the side, hair mussed more than usual, stray curls clinging to his sweat-damp forehead. He’s beautiful, you think, but your brain can’t connect to your mouth to say so.

His palm spans the width of your throat, and he gently tightens his hold with each deep thrust into you. You raise your arms to card through his hair, clutching to him to ground yourself. His other hand grasps at your tits, caressing and pulling at your hard nipples.

Your legs are shaking with the intensity of it all, with the salacious way he massages your walls with the length of his cock. He’s watching you in the mirror, eyes fixed on the way you tremble around him, the way you grip him like you’ll melt into a puddle on the floor if you let go.

“So fuck…fuckin’ perfect for me, baby. Bein’ s-such a good…good girl,” he pants, and you bask in his praise, letting it fill you from the inside out.

The fingers he has wrapped around your throat inch up to your bitten, parted lips, and you open to accept three of them obediently, his pinkie and thumb clenched firmly around the lines of your jaw.

You wrap your tongue around the digits, saliva pooling in your mouth and dripping down your chin.

He’s so fucking much, and you want to give him everything.

“Say it, baby,” he growls, pressing the calloused pads of his fingers to the broad flat of your tongue. “Fuckin’ say it.”

You meet his fiery eyes in the mirror, brows knitted together in a question.

“Say it,” he repeats, the fingers not in your mouth digging into your jaw. Demanding it.

And like he’s impressing it upon your skin, burning it into your insides, you know what he wants to hear.

“‘M yours, Joel,” you whisper, words mangled by the way he pushes down on the wet muscle in your mouth. “Only yours.”

Dropping his other hand, he ghosts his fingertips over the slight bulge in your tummy, where his cock is nestled. The knowledge that you’re so full of him makes him quicken his rhythm, hips snapping against your ass ruthlessly. Giving you everything he has.

“Princess,” he whispers, nuzzling into your ear. “Gimme your hand.”

He traces up the soft lines of your arm, gently removing one of your hands from his curls, and pulls it down to feel the thick outline of his cock just beneath your belly. He keeps his hand over yours, and you press your own fingers into your flesh, in awe that you’ve taken the whole thing.

Every nerve in your body is a live wire, and you’re suddenly on the very precipice of your orgasm, his hand over yours being what pushes you over the edge.

Fingers still in your mouth, you drop your head back onto his shoulder, moaning around the shape of them, crying out, cunt strangling his already erratic movements as he races to catch up with you at the finish line.

It’s sloppy, saliva still dripping down your chin, your body cresting the wave of your orgasm, his stuttering movements fucking you all the way through it. You go limp as it washes through you, and he’s holding you up for the last few thrusts, growling into your ear and biting at your neck.

All-consuming.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wraps both arms around you, holding you tightly against him, knowing that you really will melt if he lets you go. He can feel his own orgasm at the base of his spine, crawling up, up, up the column of it, until he’s there, spilling recklessly inside your swollen pussy, pushing himself further into you, making sure it stays.

He doesn’t need to tell you, because you already know.

The warmth of it shoots through his body, and it feels like heaven, buried to the hilt inside of you.

He runs his palms down your sides as you both come down, and even the slight touch makes you shiver. You prop yourself up on your arms again, the tips of your fingers numb from the earth-shattering orgasm.

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, satiated and soft.

Joel presses tender kisses across your shoulder blades, hands aimlessly drawing shapes into your plush hips, loathe to pull out of you.

But knowing he must, that his time with you is almost up, he does, drawing his hips back excruciatingly slowly, savoring every second of being inside of you, in whatever capacity. You hiss as he does, feeling so disappointingly empty and stretched open.

Gently caressing the globes of your ass, his palms fitting over them perfectly, he bends down to give you a final nip, laving his tongue over what he hopes will be a mark. You giggle warmly, hands meeting to pull the bodice of your dress back up over your tender breasts, while he pulls the length of it back down to your thighs.

Finally regaining the strength in your legs, you turn to face him, standing on the toes of your platforms to meet him in a kiss, him pulling your bottom lip between his own, sucking gently.

“Joel,” you mumble against him, his name an antidote to the poison of the longest week of your life.

“Baby,” he responds, encircling you with his arms, drawing you closer to him. Not wanting to let you go.

“We have to go” you whisper, pressing kisses across his jaw, his scruff pleasantly abrading your soft lips.

He grumbles an agreement, but doesn’t take his hands off of you.

“Keep my cum inside you,” is what he does say, after a millisecond of silence, as if it was burning his tongue. Like it needed to be said.

You giggle again, supplicant and sweet. Spun sugar on the tips of his fingers. Unwrapping yourself from his arms, you tug his boxers and jeans up, and his fingers fumble to help you. You let your hands wander up the plane of his chest while he clicks his belt into place, wondering how you’ll both fare this weekend.

“Can’t go that long again, princess,” he says, stroking the wild tangle of hair framing your face. “Need you.”

The admission nearly astonishes you. You’ve never seen Joel be so open, so vulnerable, so absolutely fucking wrecked.

“‘N…next time won’t be so…rushed. Wanna take my time with you.”

You believe him.

Hoping your action conveys that message, you press one final kiss to the heart-shaped space in his scruff, before turning to tame the locks of your hair and fix your smudged mascara in the mirror.

“You have my number, Joel.”

taglist: @jasminedragoon @loveisacowboyyy @scarletthefierce @thecasualnope

#joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller #tlou #tlou fic #pedro pascal fanfic #joel x you #joel x reader

[neteyamsoare]

Avatar — Summers In Pandora 2024

Happy (early) Summer everyone🩵!!

Me and my bestie @inlovewithpandora have decided to host a summer themed event for the avatar community! It’s the summer time which means it’s hot outside and even hotter in the bedroom!

Pic layout inspired by @pandoraslxna’s kinktober event!

Rules and Participation guidelines

꣑୧ You must be 18 or older to participate. This doesn’t just apply to partaking, but interacting as well. Do not engage with any posts related to this event if you are a minor. Please respect our wishes/boundaries.

꣑୧ Ensure appropriate warnings are listed above post cuts, especially if the content is considered ‘triggering’ (dub-con, non-con, stepcest, dark themes, etc.) or includes kinks other than that day’s prompt.

꣑୧ You can participate in this event as an artist showing off your art skills or a writer contributing your writing abilities, it doesn’t matter as long as you have fun!

꣑୧ Please make sure whatever you create for the correlating days stays true to the prompt and doesn’t go off script. You can include other aspects but please let the prompt for that specific day be the main focus of it.

꣑୧ Be kind to other participants of this event! Like previously mentioned, this event is to have fun and spread some more positivity amongst the community.

꣑୧ Don’t feel any pressure to participate in every prompt or to do any kinks that aren’t in your comfort zone. This event was made to be fun so do whatever prompts that make you feel comfortable and stand out to you.

꣑୧ If you don’t intend on participating that’s totally fine! Please make sure you support all authors and artists with reblogs and positive comments on their posts!

꣑୧ Reblogs are appreciated to give everyone the opportunity to join if they want! Sharing this post to external platforms will help spread the word!

꣑୧ Feel free to tag us in your fics, we’ll be happy to read them all!

꣑୧ When tagging us please remember that it’ll take time for us to read/reblog your fic since many people will be tagging us but don’t worry we’ll get to it!

꣑୧ The event starts July 1st and will last the whole month so just a little tip, write ahead of time and use the scheduling feature, it'll save you tons of stress!!

꣑୧ When publishing fics or art please use the tag #SummersInPandora2024

Let’s continue helping this fandom thrive!!

#summersinpandora2024 #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #atwow x y/n #atwow x reader smut #atwow x you #avatar x reader smut #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #avatar x fem reader #avatar x human reader #avatar x female reader #avatar x sully!reader #avatar x na'vi reader #neteyam x reader smut #lo’ak x reader smut #ao’nung x reader smut #jake sully x reader smut

[zaceial]

Todoroki Shoto as a partner HCs

Pairing; Todoroki Shoto x gn!reader

Tags; fluff, sfw, hurt/comfort if you squint

Content warning: I headcanon todoroki as autistic/neurodivergent, so there might be some references here and there + mineta being weird but that only lasts like one line

No use of y/n

Contains: Early stages, Affections, Who would know, PDA, His thoughts of the future

Requests open!

Early stages:

As a partner, during the early stages he'd be very nervous to make the first moves, because he isnt sure yet what you'd like or if you're comfortable with some things.

Would love it if you made the first move though

Like holding hands underneath the cafeteria tables, patting his hair as a 'good job!' after training or just slinging your arm around him

He loves it when you do any physical affection

Poor boy's touch starved, he'll take whatever he can get

Would love parallel play, something about just the two of you, sitting in peace and doing your own things

Its nice and quiet, he isn't overwhelmed and there isn't any preassure to do anything, just the both of you in each other's company

Gives you lots of small gifts, like keychains or fancy bookmarks, anything that suits your taste

One time he even got you a small little plushie and placed it on your desk with no explanation whatsoever

Cuddling comes awkward to him at first, but he comes around after a while

By a while I mean MONTHS

He's just not used to it, hugging is already awkward for him, so its hard for him to just lay in your arms for a long period of time

What does he do? Is there a correct way to cuddle? Should he be doing something? Where does he lay his head?

Would definitely search up 'cuddle poses' online

But he just gets even more confused and goes down a deep rabbit hole about cuddling

Affections/comfort:

When he does come around, that's the way he recharges at the end of the day

After a long day of work and socialising he just wants some peace, quiet and some cuddles from his partner

Would just walk in wherever you were, lie down on top of your torso and just stay there, eyes closed and breathing slowed as he calms down

Would rather be the one being held , adores it when you rub circles into his back to soothe him

Would just randomly lay his head on your shoulder whenever he's tired but can't properly sit down and rest during training

And then at this point, he's more comfortable with initiating stuff

He doesn't know what to do if you're ever in a situation that requires comfort

The boy's a bit dense, okay? He saw Momo crying and asked if she was feeling nauseous, then immediately told her there's a preassure point somewhere to relieve it

Offers you his favourite food or any sort of advice because those things are what usually helps him feel better

Would ask you whats wrong, and try his best to fix the problem instead of reassuring you since he's not really good with comforting people

"Whats wrong?" He asks upon entering the room and seeing you sitting down somewhere, eyes puffy and a frustrated look on your face.

"I'm just really overwhelmed, Shoto, all this work is putting stress on me.." You say, wiping your eyes even though the tears stopped a long time ago.

There was a moment of silence, Shoto stands in front of you, hands awkwardly raised up to his sides unsure of what to do.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, and you just look at him confused.

"I have leftover soba.."

You smile at him, standing up and making your way to the kitchen. He sits next to you and you both just share the plate in silence before he speaks again.

"If you're stressed next time, you can just tell me. I'll help you."

"I have notes for our classes to help you simplify everything. It is essential that a person rests appropriately and avoid overworking themselves." He says, and you can't help but smile, chuckling a little at how punctual he is.

Who would know?:

Isn't one to loudly declare he's in a relationship, in fact people didn't know until it slipped one day.

"Shoto, do you want to go out today?" You ask him whilst passing by the common room of the dorms, he was talking- well, engaging in a one sided conversation with some of your classmates.

"Woah, first name basis huh? You two must be close then Todoroki-kun"

"Well yeah, they're my partner."

"YOUR WHAT?!"

Everyone would bombared you guys with questions after that

Shoto just answers it shortly, keeping it simple

"When did you guys start dating?"

"Three months ago."

"A few months ago?! And you didn't tell us?? Man, i thought we were friends, Todoroki.."

"I hope this doesn't cause you both to slack off during exercises, your education is still important!"

"Wow Todoroki, have you guys done it yet?? Must be nice having a partner~"

Mineta immediately got kicked by you after that

Shoto's indifferent to making your relationship public, if you wanted to or don't want to, he's fine with anything

Would prefer the relationship to only be known to people he actually knew instead of like announcing it to everyone

Example: his class, friends, your family.

Although sometimes he might let it slip because he thinks about you alot in between classes

It would take time for him to talk about his relationship to his family, especially Endevour

Fuyumi would be you guys' #1 supporter and the first one to find out

Natsuo's a little more distant to shoto than Fuyumi is, so he'd be third to find out, right after his mother

Endevour would only be told after like 6 months of dating

Who knows, maybe Shoto would be spiteful enough to not even tell him for years

Public Display of Affection:

Shoto will hold your hands under tables or stay close to you by your side and hold hands if no one's paying attention.

Doesn't like PDA as much, at most he'll hold your hands and lay his head on your shoulder when you're out in public

He just doesn't like showing that very new and vulnerable side of him being affectionate to the world

Plus, it brings his guard down because he's fully relaxed if he's affectionate with you

Thoughts of the future:

Todoroki's the type of person to just slow down and be in the moment with you but then blurt about a highly detailed future with you out of nowhere

You would go shopping and you'd spot him eyeing a plant in a store

When you ask what he's thinking about, he with a straight face say:

"You said you like these. If we get one when we move in together, do you think the two cats we'll have will be disturbing these or would it be fine considering ragdoll cats are mostly known for their relaxed nature? "

"Shoto we haven't even graduated yet!"

If you're a hero too, he trusts you fully to take care of yourself during missions or any villain attacks

Would interfere if he has to, if anything were to happen to you during missions he'd be heartbroken

Going down a spiral of the things he could've done to protect you, to make sure you were safe

He also wouldn't hold back during any training just because your his partner, he believes you both need to grow strong together to become heroes

If you weren't a hero, he'd try his best to protect you if you were ever caught up in his hero nonsense

Totally supports any career you wanted to take up, claiming that he'll be the one to take care of everything financially

I mean, better use Endevour's card for SOMETHING

Wants at least one cat in the house, ragdolls specifically

Kids are not something he has in mind, especially considering he'd like to focus on you and his career

He also doesn't want to end up like his dad

Would consider children if you both are stable in your lives and careers

And if you don't want kids, he's fine with that too

The house would be remodeled into those old Japanese ones like his dorm room, if you didn't like it he'd have at least his work office that way

#todoroki x male reader #shouto todoroki #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #no use of y/n #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #todoroki headcanons #gender neutral reader #fluff #relationship headcanons #shoto todoroki #autistic todoroki #neurodivergent todoroki

[wingwaver]

A few tips for new Tumblr users wanting to write here

Yo if you're here from Reddit or Twitter or some other site and just wanted to give this a shot you may have seen some blogs that are dedicated to writing headcanons or short fics or even original works for their own OCs and you may be thinking "hey I wanna give that a shot! I like to write!" then I have some tips to make it easier on you and people who see your content.

1. First off, if you're writing a pretty long piece the you should probably put it under a read more, it'll look like this on mobile

and this on desktop

or you can write :readmore: on a line by itself and press enter.

2. Now if you're gonna write for a whole bunch of different fandoms and you wanna make a master list then I suggest making an actual list with the fandoms you write for and then making more lists with the actual content as a you go along because you can only have 100 links in one post (I know that sounds like a lot but as someone who has around 300 Transformers things written trust me you fill up a post quicker than you expect, especially if you take requests from other people). The way I typically do it is like this

The first pic is the MASTER master list that lists everything I write for and when they're underlined like that it means they're links. The second pic is after clicking the G1 link, it's a separate post that has the actual fics and headcanon links. Note the 6/100 in the tags, this is how I keep up with how many things I've added. You can of course just use the numbers options from here

or just number them manually from your keyboard like I'm doing with this post. Adding links has no barring on what else you add to the post so you can add yourself some fancy header or divider pics if you want.

3. Adding links! Links can look like this https://www.tumblr.com/wingwaver/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons?source=share or like this https://wingwaver.tumblr.com/post/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons depending on whether you're linking from mobile or desktop/browser Just highlight the text you wanna add a link to and a the little chain will move to the end, click it and paste your url you want to link to and press add link, then press post/save draft/save (whatever the blue button says)

Now you've successfully linked a post to another post!

4. Tagging! To get your fics and headcanons seen to build an audience you usually wanna tag the stuff correctly. If you're posting a fic about Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney then you'll tag it with #Ace Attorney, #Miles Edgeworth, and #Phoenix Wright in the tags area. But it's also a good idea to mention if it's a ship or general fic in the tags too. If so then putting ship names and #Miles Edgeworth x Phoenix Wright and #Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright in the tags will help everyone know this is a ship fic. Tagging with characters or fandoms that aren't apart of the fic just clogs the tags for people looking for content of said characters and fandoms so it's very looked down on here and will likely get some of your stuff reported for spam so only use the relevant tags. Also tagging for triggers can be tricky here because of how fucky tumblr is but please don't tag censor tags. Tagging things like #a**** or #a*use or even #abu$e doesn't work here because people who have #abuse blacklisted will be able to see this content because it wasn't tagged properly. Also if you're writing for OCs or reader inserts it's common courtesy to tag those appropriately too. Someone looking for a reader insert may not want to read an OC and vice versa. Also many people filter those out so try to add tags like #x reader, #*fandom name* x reader, and #*character name* x reader for easier filtering. Also people cruise those tags too so it'll help people who fo want to read that content find your stuff!

#tumblr tips #writeblr #twitter migration #reddit migration #reddit blackout #twitter refugees #196 #r/196 #Twitter #Reddit #fanfiction #writing #writing blogs #tumblr help

[sourceblogcentral]

It's always a shame when you put hours of effort into a gifset, only for it to get 60 notes. And now, as people are reblogging less and less, the success of your gifset relies even more on using tags effectively to expose it to the maximum number of people possible.

Of course, at the end of the day, you should create for you, not notes, but that doesn't stop it from hurting. So, without further ado:

Guide to Tagging Gifsets

There are three main categories of tag, which I'll explain one at a time: fandom tags, sourceblog tags, and user tags. But it's key to remember only the first 20 tags are searched for; tags after that are irrelevant. So make sure every tag counts. It's also a good idea to visit a tag before you use it; if there's hardly any posts in that tag, it's probably not worth including.

Fandom (edit) Tags

Tags relevant to each fandom. I'll use Marvel as an example:

#tvedit, #filmedit, #[genre]edit, eg. #scifiedit

#[fandom]edit, eg. #marveledit, #mcuedit. Sometimes uses an abbrievation, particularly if the name of the fandom is quite long

#[show/tv]edit, eg. #infinitywaredit, #wandavisionedit. Only relevant if the fandom had multiple pieces of media.

#[character]edit, eg. #natasharomanoffedit. Mainly applicable to larger fandoms.

#[ship]edit, eg. #sambuckyedit. Mainly applicable to larger fandoms.

#[actor]tag. Note that this is sometimes the full name, sometimes first-initial-followed-by-surname. Check the tags to find the relevant one.

There are, of course, other types, but these are the main ones. It's a good idea to use these ones before tracked tags, as it makes it easier for people to find the content they're looking for.

Sourceblog Tags

A sourceblog is a blog dedicated to one fandom/character/genre etc, usually run by multiple people. Their main purpose is collecting every relevant post for whatever it's dedicated to, in one place for easy access.

They usually have names including 'source', 'daily', 'gifs', or 'edits'

Most sourceblogs have a tracked tag, often the name of the blog, and may also track the main edit tag. In that case, you may not need to bother tagging the sourceblog as well.

However, many sourceblogs go inactive, and so it's a good idea when tagging one for the first time to have a quick look in the archive and see if they're active. Just note that most sourceblogs don't use a tag such as 'thanks for tagging' to indicate they're reblogging from the tracked tag.

Sourceblogs usually have a lot of followers, all interested in whatever the blog's dedicated to, and therefore it's an excellent idea to tag any relevant ones.

You can search our blog to find relevant source blogs and their tracked tags.

User Tags

These are not always exclusive to edits, so pay attention to what people say they'd like to be tagged in. You can usually find people's tracked tag in their blog description, pinned post or about page.

I'd like to highlight - don't be afraid to tag people in your gifs! Most people love to be tagged. Although be aware it is common courtesy to only tag people that you follow/are mutuals with.

Most user tags are either #user[x] or the blog's url. Most people state what they do/don't like being tagged in, but if they don't, just go by what they reblog.

Just be aware of gifmakers that you follow, so that the next time you make a post, you can check their blog and see if it is appropriate to tag them

Usertags are best to use after fandom and sourceblog tags, to fill it all the way up to 20 tags, personal blogs are not dedicated to one thing only (usually), and therefore a lower proportion of followers will be in that fandom.

Finally, it's also good to use non-edit tags: for the fandom, character and ship. This means it's easy for people looking in the tags to find content.

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask! And if you run a sourceblog we haven't yet added to our directly, please send us the url of the blog and we'll add it right away.

Good luck & have fun with your giffing!

#resource #arthurpendragonns #ughmerlin #userava #userbecca #useralison #userisaiah #alivedean #usertom #jemmablossom #tusershay #userkristi #userhaleths #userv #usernik #userelio #uservivaldi #userk8 #uservalentina #userace

[cmkinkbingo2024]

It’s time to get kinky! Welcome to Criminal Minds Kink Bingo 2024.

The goal of a bingo challenge is to get a bingo on your card, either by crossing out one line, two lines, or a blackout (full card) by creating fanworks for the prompts randomly provided on the card.

This could be a written piece of a minimum 500 words, a piece of finished art, or another kind of fanwork of your choosing.

Please note that this challenge and blog is for people 18+ only.

Timelines/Deadlines

Until sign ups open, we are accepting kink nominations to be included as options via our ask box. We have a list already, but we will add to it if something is missing.

Sign ups start on May 1st 2024 and will be open until May 15th.

Individual cards will be issued by May 22nd, and the event officially starts on May 26th (you can start creating as soon as you receive your bingo card).

As soon as the event starts on May 26th, you can post fanworks whenever they’re created, in whatever place you prefer. You can tag your fills, bingo updates or WIPs with #cmkinkbingo24 on tumblr. We also have a collection on AO3 for your works here.

You have until July 31st 2024 to complete your bingos!

How Bingo Works

Lines can be made by crossing out squares in any direction - horizontal, vertical, or diagonal. To cross out a square, use the prompt on it to create and post a fanwork.

You will choose from a large list of potential prompts, marking the ones you would be happy to have generated on a 5x5 square bingo card. This will also allow you to exclude prompts you would not be happy to have to create for. 

While that does mean you could create the perfect bingo card, we encourage you to select upwards of 25 prompts, to allow for some randomness in the challenge.

Every card will have a free space in the middle, where you have the option to choose a prompt yourself. 

You can request additional bingo cards if you complete a line, 2 lines or a full house and want to try for a second win!

Rules/Guidelines

No plagiarism, art theft or AI generated content will be tolerated in works for this challenge. Participants/works will be excluded at our discretion in these circumstances.

You can post your fanworks wherever you prefer.

Just like kinks are not always sexual, works do not have to be explicit to be entered. As long as it relates to the prompt, SFW content is entirely allowed. 

Some of the kinks utilized in this challenge will fall under “real world” kinks, and others under things considered a kink in the context of fanwork creation.

You are responsible for how much you stick to the spirit of the challenge - ultimately this is meant to be fun, and to spur people to be creative, and create content for a fandom we love!

Safety/Your Kink Is Not My Kink

Some of the kinks listed may indicate extreme, upsetting, triggering content, or content you personally find immoral, or that “squicks” you. You are ultimately responsible for the content you consume - if something is not for you, scroll past and/or use the necessary blocking/muting features to exclude this content from your feed.

Please make sure to tag and rate all works appropriately for their content, such as using Archive of Our Own’s warning, rating and tag system, or tumblr’s ‘read more’ function.

You can add any fills posted on Archive of Our Own to the collection here.

Please check out the Frequently Asked Questions, or send us an ask if you have another question!

#criminal minds #fanfic #fanart #writing #kink bingo #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jarau #david rossi #penelope garcia #elle greenaway #alex blake #ashley seaver #luke alvez #tara lewis #jason gideon #matt simmons #stephen walker #kate callahan #cmkinkbingo24

[inlovewithpandora]

Avatar — Summers In Pandora 2024

Happy (early) Summer everyone🩵!!

Me and my bestie @neteyamsoare have decided to host a summer themed event for the avatar community! It’s the summer time which means it’s hot outside and even hotter in the bedroom!

・Pic layout inspired by @pandoraslxna’s kinktober event!

Rules and Participation guidelines

・You must be 18 or older to participate. This doesn’t just apply to partaking, but interacting as well. Do not engage with any posts related to this event if you are a minor. Please respect our wishes/boundaries.

・Ensure appropriate warnings are listed above post cuts, especially if the content is considered ‘triggering’ (dub-con, non-con, stepcest, dark themes, etc.) or includes kinks other than that day’s prompt.

・You can participate in this event as an artist showing off your art skills or a writer contributing your writing abilities, it doesn’t matter as long as you have fun!

・Please make sure whatever you create for the correlating days stays true to the prompt and doesn’t go off script. You can include other aspects but please let the prompt for that specific day be the main focus of it.

・Be kind to other participants of this event! Like previously mentioned, this event is to have fun and spread some more positivity amongst the community.

・Don’t feel any pressure to participate in every prompt or to do any kinks that aren’t in your comfort zone. This event was made to be fun so do whatever prompts that make you feel comfortable and stand out to you.

・ If you don’t intend on participating that’s totally fine! Please make sure you support all authors and artists with reblogs and positive comments on their posts!

・Reblogs are appreciated to give everyone the opportunity to join if they want! Sharing this post to external platforms will help spread the word!

・Feel free to tag us in your fics, we’ll be happy to read them all!

・When tagging us please remember that it’ll take time for us to read/reblog your fic since many people will be tagging us but don’t worry we’ll get to it!

・The event starts July 1st and will last the whole month so just a little tip, write ahead of time and use the scheduling feature, it'll save you tons of stress!!

・When publishing fics or art please use the tag #SummersInPandora2024

Let’s continue helping this fandom thrive, we hope to see your contributions!!

#SummersInPandora2024 #avatar the way of water #avatar jake #avatar 2009 x reader #avatar jake sully #james cameron avatar #james cameron's avatar #avatar fanfiction #jake sully x reader #lo’ak avatar #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x reader smut #avatar smut #atwow smut #avatar fandom #atwow fanfiction #ao’nung fluff #ao’nung x female reader #ao’nung x you #atwow #atwow x y/n #atwow x you #atwow x reader

[tanthamorewinterfest]

Winterfest Rules

Tanthamore Winterfest is a two month long event full of writing and art prompts based around the pairing Kit Tanthalos/Jade Claymore from Willow, brought to you by the makers of @tanthamoretober. The goal is to have some chill, flexible reasons to write during the months of December and January. This challenge also encompasses other characters and pairings within the Willow universe.

How does it work? You create fan content inspired by one of the prompts and post it during the challenge period, which starts December 1, 2023 and ends January 31, 2024. You can do one shots or string the prompts together for a multi-chapter fic, and all types of fan content are welcome: art, fic, vids, fan mixes, rec lists, meta, memes.

What prompts? We have multiple types of prompts, and you can choose what inspires you best. There are four lists of text-based tables, and three moodboards in case visual prompts speak to you more. You can pick and choose from any of these and interpret them any way you like.

Text prompts: Masterlist

Text-based: Out in the Cold

Text-based: In From The Cold

Text-based: Summer Edition

Text-based: Dialogue

Moodboards: Masterlist

Why are there summer prompts in a winter fic challenge?

Because some people live in New Zealand, okay? Or other places. Apparently there's a whole hemisphere where December and January are summer months, and if you're not feeling wintery at this time of year we don't want that to hold you back from participating!

How do I share my cool stuff? Add it to the Winterfest collection on AO3!

(Use the ‘Post to collection’ button, or see How do I add work to a collection for more info.)

On tumblr, use the tag 'tanthamorewinterfest’ so others can find it (as well as any relevant content/pairing/prompt tags.) You can also tag this blog, and we’ll reblog things throughout the month.

Does it have to be Tanthamore? It doesn’t! You can create things for any prompt with any character or characters from Willow, you can write different pairings, you can do whatever you want forever. Just make sure that your fics are tagged appropriately!

Can it be any rating? Yes absolutely! Write the most E-rated thing your little heart desires, just tag it as such so readers can decide for themselves.

Can it be any length? Sure! There is no minimum or maximum word limit.

Does it have to be canon? Nope - it can be canon, canon-divergent, or any kind of AU you would like to write!

Does it have to be finished? Nope, not at all. If one of the prompts inspires you to start a long fic, you are still totally welcome to add it to the collection during December-January and carry on working on it after the challenge is over. We will close the collection after the challenge is complete (probably sometime in the first week of February) but you can continue adding chapters to anything you have already added.

If you have any other questions, just send us a message :)

#willow fic #tanthamore #tanthamore fic #willow 2022 #willow fanfiction #willow fan art #kit x jade #tanthamorewinterfest

[mommalosthermind]

So I'm slowly starting to come to understand that we shouldn't censor things but also I'm still a little uncomfortable with the site allowing things like pedophilia to be written in a way that's romanticized. I get it. Avoid it since I don't like it but at what point do we say, 'hmm this isn't okay.' I mean I get it, fiction doesn't hurt people but if that were truly the case then why are we lobbying for rep/realism/etc in media? Fiction, at some point, has to have some effect on real life.

Hello darling! I got your second ask too, please don’t worry, you’re definitely not coming across as unkind.

And you’re definitely not the only one to have similar thoughts or concerns.

But my answer’s going to be the same.

There is no such thing as a little censorship, and opening that particular can of pringles is not going to end happily for anyone. It’s better to not open it at all. And yes, that means people will create deeply fucked up things. But they should have the ability to do so, just like you should have the ability to avoid the hell out of it.

(Which, for AO3, is where I start in on my tag your shit appropriately/read the fucking tags!!! Rants. Learned the hard way a million years ago when I *thought* I was reading something very very different than I was, so when I got to ‘Character has sex with a dog’ I lost my mind, then realized I fucked up and hadn’t read the tags. If I had, I would have noped out of that fic immediately. So. That entire encounter was on me.)

“At what point is this not okay?” Well, that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Who would be in charge of deciding where the line goes? Who gets to decide what goes on which side of the line?

The last anon seemed to think writing was the same as doing, and thus writing shouldn’t be allowed at all.

And then got annoyed when I pointed out how often those unsavory themes happen in movies or TV without any warning at all, and generally, people move right past it.

Fiction doesn’t hurt people. People hurt people.

My favorite comparison is still my kitchen curtains, because my curtains are still weird: fairies, trees. Very witchy. I’ve seen people do literal double takes over my curtains. I can tell by the way they squint they can’t stand them or don’t understand why I would want something so *non-traditional* in such a public part of my house. They keep their damned mouths shut though, because they know its rude to tell me to change my curtains to fit their idea of a kitchen. (And also because I’d toss them out after laughing my ass off but that’s not relevant)

Person A has an idea of what ‘acceptable’ levels are, but that’s much much less than person B. Who wins? No one.

And no one should have the power to just decide things like that.

It’s stupid o’clock at night where I am, so I’m not about to go digging for studies, but I know we’ve got pretty solid proof that media doesn’t cause behaviors spontaneously. At the risk of sounding old, but this same argument once was applied to music, too. The weird compromise was slapping content warnings for language/sex/violence on CD’s. (Y’know. A significantly less useful form of tagging?) It didn’t… really do shit for anyone. Other than make those CD’s more attractive to teens, tbh. But. The argument at the time was rap and rock were violent and would make kids go insane and violent just by listening.

It… didn’t. It still doesn’t.

Reading dark fic isn’t going to cause someone to do something out of the blue.

Someone who’s debating doing the thing might seek out media about whatever their obsession is, yes. But their obsession was already there. Fic, music, movies, they’re not going to create it. I’d wager those girls who murdered their friend and blamed ‘slenderman’ had signs long before they went that far.

Part of the problem with this entire thought is that it’s thought policing. Folks assume the thought equals the sin. And as someone with pretty wonky intrusive thoughts and a long family history of mental issues— no. I have weird ass thoughts all the time. ‘Huh, I’m up high, I should jump, maybe I’ll float.’ I’m not gonna act on them. I know they’re weird thoughts. I’m not gonna float, I’d just die. Your brain just… says things sometimes. Some of us more than others. Therapy’s helpful for folks who struggle with that.

Fiction’s got nothing to do with it, though. Fiction just represents someone else working through their lives.

Melissa Etheridge wrote a song (scarecrow) about Matthew Sheppard’s murder. She didn’t cause anyone else to go torture another lonely gay boy to death. She was working through her grief at losing another one of us. And we worked through our grief when she sang.

Art is made for the making of it. Fiction—even the kind that squicks you— is still art.

As for the other part of your ask, the representation? I’m not sure I see the connection you’re trying to make. When people talk about rep, they’re talking about making the characters more authentic, more reflective of the beautiful range of humanity at large. Not seven brown haired white guys and one bitchy white woman and the unnamed not-white side character used for shit jokes. There should be a rainbow of humans in media, because little black girls deserve to know they’re strong and smart and beautiful. Because queer kids of all sizes and shapes deserve to know they’re loved. Because boys should get to be princesses. Because people with chronic illnesses, disabilities, they should get to be part of the stories. Because white folk need to see the rest of the world as human. Folks want to see themselves in the heroes, the happiness, the successes.

Too many kids never get to see themselves on the screen or read about people who look like them.

I loved belle as a kid because she looked like me and she loved reading. I loved Ariel because she wanted to be free. I cried over encanto because I know what it’s like to be excluded, what it’s like to be the big sister. I cried over reading red white and royal blue because the gays get to live and they’re happy. Everyone should have some way to connect.

The realism bit,though, I don’t think is the consumers as a whole. Yeah, some folks prefer it, but from what I’ve seen over the last 20 years, it’s more like the people who control most popular media have decided that’s what they wanna make. I don’t care for it, tbh. Media doesn’t need to be an exact copy of the real world.

Stories are meant as a place of solace, or at least a place that is different, than your day to day.

I like stories that have soft, happy ever afters. We’ve worked through the Big Bad Thing and come out stronger for it and now we get our well deserved rest. The real world doesn’t give me those things. Other people look at the state of the world, read seriously fucked up shit, and then go, well, at least my life isn’t that. It could be worse! And this is their happy place.

So. I’m not sure I’m much help here, but tl;dr: remember the tenets of fandom:

1) kinktomato: your kink is not my kink and that is okay. (You like this, I do not, I’m gonna leave it alone, the end.)

2) DLDR: Don’t like? Don’t read. Filtering and blocking are your besties.

3) ship and let ship (or sit down) — don’t press your dislike onto the people who do like. Let ‘em alone, go find what you do like.

4) tag appropriately, read the damn tags.

5) curate your own spaces. You alone are responsible for your online existence/experiences

6) have fun. Enjoy it. Be weird. Be silly. Be fucked up. Be unrepentantly yourself. Don’t let anyone else take that away from you.

#momma talks #asks #answered asks #censorship #i am very tired its like 1 am so this is probably more incoherent than I think it is im so sorry

[terrortransformed]

Terror Transformed - A Transformers Halloween Event!

Rules and Details

The event is running from 01/10/23 to 31/10/23.

1) Submissions can be made at any point during the month of October, so don't worry about having to get something done within the day-- As long as your work is submitted on or before 31/10/23, it counts!

That having been said, if you want to do a sketch a day, go for it! You have the entire month of October to make whatever you'd like. :)

Writing, art, and any other types of works are welcome.

You can submit any work to the event by using the tag "Terror Transformed". I'll reblog any submissions to this blog, to help keep everything together!

--

2) You do not have to participate in each day of the event. Feel free to pick whichever prompts/dates appeal to you most!

--

3) Scary and creepy are good; It's a Halloween event, after all! (That having been said, don't feel obligated to push yourself beyond what you may be comfortable with!) <3

--

4) Please tag any horror content appropriately-- For example, "Body Horror", "Vampires", "Robo Gore", and so on.

Please make sure to include any additional content/trigger warnings if needed- This helps keep everyone safe, and helps to make sure everyone can have a fun time! :)

--

5) NSFW/shipping submissions are fine, as long as you tag them appropriately and add any relevant content/trigger warnings as needed. (And of course, follow Tumblr site rules, although I don't think I need to say that!)

--

6) Have fun!!! <3

AO3 - Terror Transformed Collection

You can find the AO3 collection here!

Works will be added if anyone wants to submit anything to AO3, mostly as a way to help keep things organised.

Any kind of writing is fine! Poetry, one-shots, multi-chaptered stories, drabbles, anything you might want to do. :)

The collection is moderated, so once October starts, I'll be keeping an eye out for any fics posted here or on AO3 with the tag "Terror Transformed".

Playlist for Inspiration!

Just for fun, as a way to provide some thematic Halloween tunes for people to draw/write along to, get inspired by, or just have fun and jam out to, you can find a playlist for the event over on YouTube here!

The playlist is still being worked on, but it'll get more refined as I add more tracks and clean it up a bit! :)

Happy Halloween!

I really want to do something fun for everyone since October is my birthday month and who doesn't love Spooky Season, so I hope this can be a fun event for anyone who wants to participate! <3

The original event pitch post is here, and it's really nice to see so much interest. :')

If you have any questions or require any clarification, please feel free to message me! :)

#Terror Transformed #transformers #maccadam #maccadams #tfp #tfa #transformers g1 #transformers prime #transformers animated #earthspark #transformers halloween #halloween #halloween event #ROTB

[juniepops]

It always kind of irritates me when a post is like “trans women get censored for a hint of sexuality while pornbots can get away with anything” and then veers into people complaining about like, reports on bots getting ignored or whatever. I do not want the site to have these nsfw restrictions at all! Certainly I want a workable moderation system so people who post adult content can have it tagged and filtered appropriately for people who do not want to see it but as long as restrictions exist they will be used to quash queer people especially trans women far more than on people who actually break the restrictions. The proliferation of bot accounts is a separate issue entirely

[threadsun]

Man I just feel so fucking bad for Sauce. Like, I completely understand not being able to take criticism without apologizing, and that's what I saw in that recent post. It's not like... Morally Wrong or Failing Your Audience if some of them genuinely feel awful after playing your demo because it hit too close to home. Sometimes art just makes you feel bad and you have to deal with that. Honestly, the demo made ME feel bad after I first played it, and I had to step away and do some self-care. And it's okay to make art that has that effect! It's not harmful! It's not evil! The content warnings were there, and I read them, and it just hit me in a weird place that yandere horror usually doesn't. At this point I'm less concerned about the game itself changing and more concerned about how this will affect Sauce's perception of themself as a person and an artist. Because they didn't do anything wrong by making the demo exactly the way it was at the start.

Oh absolutely!! I think it kinda comes back to the fact that so many people don't understand how consent works. Like so many people think "this thing made me uncomfortable" = "this thing/the person who made this thing violated my consent" and that's just not true!!

Choosing to engage with art that is appropriately tagged (or you are aware is untagged, meaning it could have triggering content) means you have consented to it. That consent can be revoked at any time by disengaging with the work. But if you choose to engage with it, you are consenting.

The same way that when you engage in sex or kink with someone, you may not have a good time. You may be left with uncomfortable feelings or even feeling violated. But if you were giving enthusiastic consent throughout then your partner did not violate your consent. You pushed your own limits too far, and that happens! That's okay! And it sucks when it happens, and that's also okay! But no one is at fault there, especially not the person you gave consent to.

It's the same with art. The artist is providing you with something you can choose whether or not to engage with. Choosing to engage with it is consenting. The feelings that come up after that are not the fault of the artist unless they explicitly made it unclear what the content would involve (as in said there wouldn't be triggering content but there was). Your consent was not violated. You may feel bad, and you may have to step back and do some self-care, but that's not the fault of the author.

I've personally experienced that before. Both in sex and in reading fiction. But the onus is on me to deal with those feelings and learn for next time. Art is inherently a form of scene, and as long as the real people involved are all consenting, then there is nothing morally wrong with whatever happens in the art, no matter how it makes you feel.

And I fully agree with you, the original demo did what it set out to do! It made people feel unsafe and uncomfortable with this person who looked and sounded like they should make you feel safe and comfortable! That's the essence of the horror of sdj in my opinion, and they delivered! And the fact that people are trying to make Sauce feel guilty for succeeding with their art, just because these fans weren't able to manage their own emotions and reactions, is absolutely ridiculous and damaging! No one should have to deal with that, and I feel really bad for them.

#patchwork-fool #sunshine #asks #18+ only

[doubleredweek]

JayRoy Week 2023

It's official!

This is the master post for every thing JayRoy Week 2023.

Schedule:

Submissions aug 29-sep 15

Voting sep 18-sep 27

JayRoy Week oct 24-oct 30 (with oct 31 as a bonus day)

You can find the link to the prompts here.

Rules:

- Tag all entries with ‘JayRoyWeek23’. And @doubleredweek! So we can find and reblog your works! Always feel free to send an ask if we missed it!

- Side-Pairings and other partners are okay but the focus must be on the relationship between Jason and Roy (romantic and platonic are okay!)

- Use a ‘Read More’ when posting whole works on Tumblr. Late entries are absolutely welcome, for all of our events! Just send us an ask if we miss it!

- Tag appropriately! If you put warnings on it for Ao3 then warn for it on here, improperly tagged things will not be reblogged.

- Cross-posting is fine! If you put a story on Ao3, add it to the JayRoyWeek2023 collection and send us a link/post on here to reblog, or drop the link in the ask/submit so we can share!

- Have fun and be kind! We will not tolerate any sort of hate or harassment towards the mods, the participants, or the works created for this week. Anyone and everyone is allowed to participate in this ship-friendly, censorship-free event! Utilize your back button and block button on things you do not like. Anyone found in violation of this rule will be auto-blocked and banned from the event.

[Additional Information & FAQ under the read more]

Ad. Info:

- The work does not have to be a written fic, if you want to approach these prompts from any other creative angle, go for it! The event has been designed with fanfics and fanart in mind, but go wild with your creativity! (We do not allow content with photographs of real people.)

- Works should be new- we’re trying to celebrate JayRoy and create new content for it!

- Works can be part of a series, but not new chapters on a story not made for the event.

- No min or max word count, go crazy with it!

- SFW, NSFW and dark themes are allowed, as long as you tag them.

- Please self-post your work in our AO3 collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/JayRoy_Week_2023

- While this week focuses on the relationship between Jason Todd and Roy Harper, we encourage the inclusion of ships or other characters. Our simple ask is that the content submitted is:

A) Brand new

B) Centered around JayRoy / RoyJay

C) Tagged appropriately

FAQ:

When is JayRoy Week happening?

23 October 2023 - 31 October 2023

When will the Official Prompts be posted?

• We hope to have them out by the end of September.

How many prompts will be posted for each day?

• Three

Do I have to include all the prompts in my work?

• Not at all! Feel free to combine them or to only pick one. We simply ask that you note on your work which Day/Prompt you’re creating for.

Is there a certain structure I have to follow with the prompts?

• The prompts are up for interpretation! Create whatever sparks your inspiration, so long as your work is mainly about JayRoy.

Am I allowed to create anything?

• You can create fanfic, fanart, comics, mood boards, playlists, aesthetics, headcanons, meta, dolls - almost anything you can think of.

• The EXCEPTION: You may NOT take photography of human subjects (including in cosplay) as we have no way of verifying the age and consent of human subjects. Want to take photographs of your Legos or action figures? No prob!

• ALSO: While this is a censorship-free event, using live or photographic/videographic references of minors for artwork is STRICTLY FORBIDDEN. If we discover that this has happened, you will be reported to the appropriate authorities. The mods of this event stand firmly against child abuse and exploitation.

Can I have poly and multi ships?

• Yes! All manner of ships are welcome here, so long as your overall work is JayRoy-centric. You can write Kori/Jason/Roy,or whatever poly ships that you like!

Do I have to make something for every single day?

• Not at all! You’re free to crank out all seven days, or only pick and choose which days you create for. So long as you have fun, it’s all good! No need for stress.

What type of content is allowed and what isn’t?

• There is no restriction for this event! Anything goes for this particular week. You can use any canon, part of canon, or AU centric plots for your work.

How do I participate?

• There is no sign up needed! You make whatever it is you want for the prompts, add the work to the AO3 collection, and/or tag us on Tumblr @doubleredweek, with #JayRoyWeek2023 and whatever day the submission is relevant for!

Any additional questions can be answered in asks! Thank you for reading!

#jayroy #royjay #JayRoyWeek2023 #dc fan event

[take-the-hidden-paths]

HIDDEN PATHS: A Celebration of the Smaller Tolkien Canons

Hello, and welcome to Hidden Paths, a fortnight-long event dedicated to the celebration of smaller Tolkien canons!

We all know and love the tales of Tolkien's Middle-earth, but the Professor's creative and academic endeavours didn't stop there.  However, fanworks for smaller Tolkien canons (such as Farmer Giles of Ham, Mr. Bliss, Leaf by Niggle and more) are much rarer than works inspired by their Middle-earth counterparts.  This event was created to be a low-pressure, low-commitment opportunity to explore those lesser known works, and create and share fanworks based on them.

Define “smaller Tolkien fandoms”. 

Basically, any Tolkien canon or text (including academic works and translations) that is not explicitly set in Middle-earth and is not based on The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or The Silmarillion and closely related histories.  This includes, but is not limited to:

Beowulf/Sellic Spell

Farmer Giles of Ham

The Fall of Arthur

The Father Christmas Letters

Finn and Hengest

The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorhthelm's Son

The Lay of Aotrou and Itroun

Leaf by Niggle

The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

Mr. Bliss

Mythopoeia

The Notion Club Papers

Pearl

Roverandom

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Sir Orfeo

Songs for the Philologists

Smith of Wootton Major

The Story of Kullervo

Tolkien (2019 film)

Tolkien's essays, poems, letters and non-ME artwork

We also accept fanworks based on The Adventures of Tom Bombadil (because it collects a number of poems that were not originally intended as part of the Middle-earth canon) and The Book of Lost Tales (because it differs so significantly from later versions of the legendarium), and/or centring characters or concepts that only appear in extremely early drafts of The Lord of the Rings (e.g. Trotter).  

We know that this leaves a bit of a grey area, but ultimately, we will trust and accept the judgement of fanwork creators.  Act in good faith, and assume that others have done the same. 

How does it work? 

At the start of the event (14th February) the mod will post seven optional prompts to inspire you.  There will be a thematic prompt, a character-based prompt, a setting-based prompt, a text prompt, a visual prompt, an audio prompt, and a wildcard prompt.  A second batch of prompts will be posted on the 21st. 

If you like the prompts, then use any or all of them to create and share a fanwork based on one or more small Tolkien canons.  If they don't speak to you, then please feel free to do your own thing – the prompts are there to spark creativity, not impede it! 

What types of fanworks do you accept? 

Anything you like.  Fic, poetry, meta, art, edits, vids, podfic, craft, cosplay, rec lists, playlists, compositions, interviews with fellow fans...it's all good. 

Are there any minimum requirements? 

No, none.  Want to write a six-word story?  Be our guest. 

Are crossovers permitted? 

Yes!  We accept crossovers with the Middle-earth canons, and with non-Tolkien fandoms.  We only ask that one of the smaller Tolkien canons plays a significant role in your fanwork. 

What do you consider a significant role? 

We don't.  The event is intended to be low commitment and low stress for both participants and the moderator, and we trust that people will act in good faith.  We are not going to police fanworks or apply an arbitrary definition of “significant” - we leave that up to the creator to decide. 

Does actor RPF count? 

For the purposes of this event, no it doesn't, unless you are also drawing on elements from a smaller canon (e.g. Liv Tyler encountering the Shadow-Bride).

Where do I post my fanworks? 

We have an AO3 collection, but you may post your fanworks anywhere you like.  We'd appreciate a link back to our Dreamwidth or Tumblr page, though, to spread the word about the event! 

Are there any restrictions on rating or content? 

Nope.  Tag and warn appropriately, as you normally would, but make whatever your heart desires. 

Can I post fanworks that were inspired by or created for another event, or created prior to the event's inception? 

Yes!  The goal is to celebrate and increase content for the smaller Tolkien fandoms.  Please feel free to share your creations and add them to the collection, regardless of whether they were created specifically for this event. 

I want to take part but I don't know anything about the smaller canons.  Help!?

Tolkien Gateway has helpfully collated a list of Tolkien's writings, and some of the articles reproduce or link to the actual text.  This is a great place to start browsing, and to find out more about a text before you invest in your own copy.

Have a look at fanworks for some of the smaller canons and see what appeals.  Innumerable Stars and TRSB both have several works for the smaller canons in their collections, and many of them can be understood with no prior knowledge of the source material.

Lists of characters appearing in the various texts and canons can also be a useful jumping off point - like this one for The Book of Lost Tales.

Many of the smaller canons are just that - small!  If you can get hold of a copy from your local library, book store or from a fellow fan, they are generally quick to read and digest.

If anyone has any other ideas and resources for folks wanting to dip a toe into the smaller canons, please get in touch so they can be added to this list. 

When does the event run? 

Officially, February 14th-28th.  Unofficially, as long as you like; the prompts will stay up and the AO3 collection won't close.

#hidden paths #tolkien #tolkien fandom event #signal boost