#there. get this out there while I'm working on stuff

[ao3commentoftheday]

i found a small fandom, less than 10 pages of works on AO3 (one of my past fandoms was Star Wars, that's why that seems tiny to me), and i want to be involved in this fandom. but, because the fandom is so small, i know that it's way more likely for me to be noticed, and i'm intimidated by that thought. with Star Wars, i was noticed but i was pretty much under the radar, because the fandom is huge. but with this small fandom, i know if i post something, i won't really be under the radar anymore, because there's so little fan content. how can i become less scared of this?

You're not alone in this, anon. I've been noticing it in myself, in recent years, that I'm more self-conscious about my online presence than I used to be. We could dig deep into that whole conversation another time if you're interested, but for now let's focus in on dealing with that state of mind.

What part of being noticed to you find scary?

There are a lot of possibilities, of course. You could worry about being deemed not good enough. Or you could fear that the things you want to write are not the things that people want to read. Maybe you worry that you'll be someone who creates one of those famous "fanon" ideas that everyone latches onto and later hates because everyone latched onto it.

An even deeper worry might be that, even with a small audience, you won't be noticed after all. Or that they'll notice and then reject you.

Posting your fanworks in a place where other people can see them brings its own kind of stage fright, sometimes, and it sounds like you might be experiencing that. The good thing about AO3, though, is that you can post any time that you want to, so you can wait until you're in a good frame of mind before you dive in.

There are a few things you could try out and see if any of them help:

Turn off comments when you post your work. If people can't comment, then you won't feel bad about not receiving any (if that's your worry).

Write your stuff without posting it at all. Get comfortable with your fics first and feel good about them on your own terms. Then, when you post you won't feel as nervous about whether other people like them (if that's your worry).

Reach out to other folks in the fandom, either by commenting on their works on AO3 or by finding them here on tumblr or on other social media. Make some acquaintances and maybe even friends, and that might make you feel more like a welcome community member than a stranger or an interloper (if that's your worry).

It all comes down to trying to pinpoint what the scary thing actually is so that you can find the best way to make it less scary. As someone who has been posting in a fandom with (one sec while I check) 4 pages of results on AO3, I'll just say that people are lovely actually and things are rarely ever as bad in reality as you fear that they might be in your head. ❤️

[vio1315]

I want to share my white noise solution in case anyone falls into the same niche as me.

I've always liked having a fan/white noise to sleep to in order to block out other sounds, but lately have found my white noise machine has a secret frequency that I can hear sometimes that might be causing me some brain fog issues???

So to remedy this I thought getting something that makes noise with water might be a good idea. But all the indoor ones are really quiet, and it's hard to tell from online listings if people are just putting a mic up close or etc.

(Note, my solution is more about muffling than being loud enough to fully override)

So here's my set up:

I got a tabletop fountain that is meant to simulate rain. While I don't necessarily recommend this one, it's what I have and so what everything I say is going to be based around: [Amazon link]

The 'calming cloud by mindsight'

The first thing to know is that yes! These things are way too quiet. Out of the box, the sound of it was easily overwhelmed by someone in the other room using an electric toothbrush.

So basically I got heavy duty aluminum foil (if you're sensitive to sound I recommend using some kind of hearing protection for this because it genuinely hurt so much) and used a bowl to get the foil in a circular shape. You want the excess to come upwards to block out the sides, because it Will have considerable splash from this. Use a toothpick to put some holes in it, you don't need that many.

Do not use any splash pad, stick that foil right in there and set up the sides to fit inside. For the gaps, I just took a piece of foil and taped it to the top to further block the water from splashing out.

This is considerably louder! Not as loud as a fan, but it's enough to keep sounds from inside my house from driving me insane. Note that the pitch of the water is a little high. You would need a different kind of material to get it lower, probably harder to work with etc. I have tried glass and it is not very loud.

The sound is surprisingly repetitive for something physical like this, so some troublesome holes I blocked off if they were a little too incessant. Holding onto the splash pad is good for this so you can silence any you don't like.

You will need to refill the water as it will evaporate over time. You may even wish to clean the foil eventually or replace it. The one I have will automatically shut off after 3 hours also.

If you use this, please do not put chemicals into the water. I'm not that positive, but this stuff might be something you end up inhaling, so I really feel it's best to just clean it sometimes

Also, yes it is ugly. I find that putting a lampshade over it doesn't impact the sound much.

A lot of cons which is why it's a niche, but the pro is that it does indeed help with the brain fog thing I was experiencing! So maybe someone else could benefit too.

“if you’re sensitive to sounds when sleeping, just use earplugs!” i cannot stress enough that the sensory feeling of having my ears fully blocked AND now being able to hear my own heartbeat and breathing and every other sound that’s happening inside my own body is a million times worse than whatever ambient noise may be keeping me awake

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Nanny for Ms. Maximoff

Summary: You're the nanny for the prestigious Wanda Maximoff. She's one of the top business women in New York, making newspapers and magazines about her success. Due to her busy work life, she needed someone to watch her two young children, and thankfully you were desperate for a job. Only, you can't help but lust after your boss. Does she feel the same for you?

CW: use of dildo, older woman younger woman, dirty thoughts, reader is very perverted, secret camera A/N: if this is a success and hits 500 notes I'll do part 2

"Goodnight Tommy, goodnight Billy," you say softly to the young boys, tucking them into their bed. They insisted on sleeping in the same bed, and after what felt like a year long tantrum, you gave the okay. They sleepily wave their hands, their eyelids growing heavy and falling shut, hugging their favorite stuffed animals before sleep takes over and the twin boys snore softly.

You smile and reach over to turn off the lamp, double checking the nightlight is still on. You forgot to check once and you never heard the end of it from them, who woke up screaming in a dark room. Surprisingly, children hold grudges.

You close the door with a quiet click and you raise your arms above your head, feeling the aches and tiredness of the long day slither through your muscles and out the tips of your fingers.

Taking care of twin boys is not an easy job. They get up at 7 am on the dot every morning and it's not like they need time to wake up. No, they're bright and energetic and bouncing all around the house. Unless they didn't get their full ten hours of sleep, then it's hell until nap time.

See, you're the nanny for Wanda Maximoff. Yes, THE Wanda Maximoff, runner up for CEO at Avenger's Enterprise. One of the top ten business women in all of New York, admired for juggling a full-time job and motherhood. She went through an entire packet of potential candidates to help take care of her children, and out of the 150, you were chosen. Considering you had wonderful recommendations, experience in childcare, reliable transportation, know CPR, and you're able to keep up with her kids after a trial week, Wanda thought you were the perfect person for the job.

There are nanny cams. Wanda told you this during the interview. She keeps a camera in the playroom, living room, and the upstairs-the camera only faces towards down the stairs and not into any rooms. She likes to check on the kids throughout the day and she assured you she's not spying on you, just wanting to make sure neither of the twins fell down the stairs.

You languidly walk down the hall, feet cushioned by the soft, plush carpet, and stop in front of two doors with golden curved handles, the wood freshly coated in white. You bite your lip, rocking back and forth on your heels while fumbling with your fingers.

The doors in front of you lead into Wanda's room. The older woman has a queen sized bed covered in silk sheets and a giant soft comforter. Four high bed posts with a canopy tied back. Dark wood dressers and a walk in closet with a vast collection of various heels, flats, shoes, and clothes you'd never find anywhere, only exclusive. A giant bathroom you'd swear could work as two bedrooms.

How do you know this?

Well, it's a bad habit of yours to sneak into her room and try on her clothes. You can't help yourself. You live in a rich woman's house who owns everything expensive. Sometimes, you like to picture yourself living a lavish life such as this.

"No," you scold yourself, turning away from the doors and crossing your arms over your chest. "You promised you'd stop going through her stuff! It's not right."

Diamonds and heels flash through your mind and you spin back around, tonguing the inside of your cheek. "Well...it's not like I'm stealing."

You push open the doors and close them, giggling to yourself as you run over to the closet. Flipping on the light, you're never failed to be amazed by the sheer size of the walk in closet holding luxurious, expensive brands. You run your fingers through the clothes, mouth open in awe. These dresses are definitely more than your paycheck.

A scarlet red dress catches your eye and you pull it out, sighing. It's a silky smooth dress that stops mid thigh. A plunging v-line and a thigh slit. Holding in your hands felt as though you're holding gold. You shimmy off your clothes and slip it on, ignoring the space in the chest and butt area.

Wanda is blessed with a shapely body. Supple curves that leaves many envious and many drooling.

Truth be told, you're crushing hard on your boss. You couldn't help it. You've become drawn to the older woman, shivering from the scent of her floral perfume and mouth going dry whenever she stood too close. More than often you've grown embarrassed from staring at her plump, delicate lips that are just calling to you.

You ache for the touch of her body upon yours. Whenever Wanda needs help choosing an outfit, she'll stand in her bra and panties and hold dresses against herself, asking which you think is better. On the outside, you're cool and collected, giving your honest opinion, but on the inside you're a howling wolf. You'd cover her in kisses if allowed to. God, just thinking about it is leaving you tingling. You shake your head and pair the dress with red heels and gorgeous diamond earrings and necklace.

You do this for a total of fifteen minutes, trying on different dresses and shoes. The closet is an endless maze full of expensive clothes probably worn once and left on the rack, watching as more clothes are added to the collection and left to suffer the same fate.

The array of clothes leaves you envious, but one day you'll have a big walk in closet like this and fill it with expensive clothes from exclusive name brands. You try on more jewelry before putting everything back where they belong and gather your clothes, shutting off the light. You lean against the threshold momentarily, staring at the nightstand that suddenly caught your attention. You hum and lift yourself up, sitting on her bed and open her drawers.

In her nightstand were multiple dildos of different sizes and color. A few ribbed, curved, and a vibrator with a clit sucker. You sit there, eyes wide and face flushed, feeling as though you're interrupting something...personal.

Wanda is a grown woman. Of course she has these. Though you're left wondering...

How often does she use them? What does she think about when she uses them? Is she massaging her breast while thrusting the dildo deep into her wet heat? Does she attach one of them to a pillow and bounce on it until completion?

You gasp as you realize you're stimulating your nipples and jump up, clothes falling from your hands. Heart ramming itself into your rib-cage, damn near threatening to burst free. Your eyes dart towards the door, half expecting to see Wanda walk in on you in nothing but your panties and her drawer of toys opened. Thankfully, she's working late tonight. You sit back down, sighing in relief before smacking yourself upside the head. Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself! Walk out of her room and pretend you never saw anything!

Except, you keep staring at the drawer full of lube and toys, pussy throbbing.

Without realizing it, your hand is reaching out to grab a hold of a bright neon dildo, ribbed around the tip near the fake silicone folds of the tip. The dildo is thick, nearly the same size as your forearm. Is this..is this her favorite toy?

The tension in the room grows thick with arousal, heat seeping into your flesh rising with goosebumps. A shiver runs down your spine as you pant against the dildo, peppering the toy in kisses. Your chest heaves, supple body flinging back against the plush mattress. And oh, is this mattress heavenly.

Imagines of Wanda thrusting this fat dildo deep into her yummy pussy fills your mind and you suckle on the tip, a finger tracing around your glistening folds. Nasty wet squelching noises emitting from her fat, delicious cunt rings in your ears, your stomach doing flips.

God, she's so fucking hot.

This is wrong, you know, laying in your boss's bed and imagining her fucking herself on her toys, but you can't help it. Wanda Maximoff leaves you hungry, and goodness are you starving. You trap your clit between two of your fingers and go to town on your poor, innocent rosebud, moaning around the thick toy.

You whimper, upset the toy doesn't have a single trace of her. You're desperate for a taste. You'd love it for her to sneak into your room and plop her pussy on your lips, having you wake up to yourself eating her out.

"Wanda," you moan, back arching off the bed from the pleasure you're giving yourself. You rub your clit in quick circles, mouth dropped open, thick breaths heaving out. Your breasts bounce against your chest as you squirm against her mattress, pussy weeping out onto Wanda's silk sheets.

Your thoughts went from Wanda playing with herself to her grinding her fat pussy against yours, clits bumping against each other. She's staring down at you over the arch of her nose, perfect lips curled into a devious smile. Her massive breasts bounce and jiggle with every thrust, sloppy holes hotly kissing each other.

You bite down on your lip and push the fabric of your panties aside, guiding the dildo to your entrance. You swirl the plastic tip around your hole, body jolting, and pushing it against your slit you fight back the urge to squeal. It's already so thick!

"Look at you," Wanda purred, tongue dampening her swollen lips. "Taking it like the bitch you are. You like it when our holes kiss? You can feel that, right?" When you don't respond, she slaps you across the face, angling her hips so her clit fucks your hole. "Answer me!"

"Yes!" you cried out, but in reality you mouth it, trying to stay quiet. You slap a hand over your mouth as the dildo eases into your velvet heat, it's girth spreading you apart and your mind nearly melts.

"Good girl," she praises, tossing one leg over her shoulder. "You're going to let me play with this pussy all night long, hm? Until I'm satisfied?"

"Y-Yes! Fuck! Just keep fucking me!"

"Such a needy little thing," Wanda said, clicking her tongue. Her head falls against her shoulders and she moans, thrusting harder into you.

The dildo pumps in and out of your cunt, pleasure coursing through your veins. You imagine all the things Wanda could do to you. All the things you want her to do to you. The older woman completely taking control and power over you, and you'd let her. You'd let her do anything to you and you'd beg her for more.

She can mark your skin in bites and bruises and you'd find more spots on your flesh to show her so she can mark you up more.

You end up squirting all over the dildo and sheets, body shaking violently, vision blinded momentarily. You lay on the bed, panting, coming down from the high of your orgasm before you realized what you did. In a panic, you scramble up, cleaning the toy and hastily tossing it into the drawer, putting on your clothes and tearing the sheets off the bed to go clean.

Thankfully Wanda won't be home anytime soon, giving you plenty of time to clean up after yourself.

However...you didn't realize there was a camera in her room. A camera that was only active when she checked it.

And it was blinking red the entire time.

[erwinsvow]

Omg let’s talk Robby’s shy wifey!!

Is she shy with him? I picture she’s open with him and comfortable but he can easily make her go all shy and bushy if he wants to esp with sex stuff

Also he is the perfect guy to cling to if you’re feeling shy in a public setting ughhh he’s so big and beautiful and I love him

Also, I clocked your tags girl & I love it! She’s comfy with jack ofc 💖

i think she's really shy with him at first.. he's pretty intense even when he's trying to be normal like the eye contact and probably trying to diffuse and calm her down because she seems skittish and whatever he's doing isn't working. it'd have to be a non medicine setting so idk how to explore this relationship when he's not at the hospital like what context he'd see her in... maybe if she is a florist or owns a bakery or whatever cute tropes we love to give our readers and he's a regular.. why is he a regular at the florist i don't exactly know but assuming this man comes in regularly for his- okay interrupting myself mid thought because her being a baker makes much more sense. bakery with good coffee near the hospital and you're always the quiet one baking in the back and if no one's there you have to check him out and give him his large hot coffee labeled michael in your pretty handwriting and whatever sort of pastry you made. hmmm this makes much more sense to me. when you look up at him and then look back down quickly and avoid eye contact and it sucks because he's so cute and becomes a regular but you're just soooo not the kind of girl who flirts up customers, because normally you don't even talk to customers. one day you're not there in the back organizing the displays like you normally are and he asks where you are and ooo boy is that a mistake. the other workers tease you until you're ready to hand in your apron and quit altogether from the sheer overwhelmedness of it all. start calling robby your boyfriend like "oh your boyfriend's about to walk in. i'm gonna go take my break, you got this, right?" like making you talk to him. however... nothing happens besides a slightly prolonged conversation though you get better at eye contact over time and he kind of paints a picture of the sort of girl you are in his head—definitely way too good to be with him. and then you get into an accident with a hot tray or a frosting knife and they take you to the emergency room and you're with one of the residents but robby sees you and maybe takes over your care.. cue exchanged glances between everyone.. dana stopping by to see what all the fuss is... people staring at robby tenderly wrapping you wound while you stare up at him with huge wet eyes and he's being quiet and telling you you'll be okay, kid and back to baking in no time. and then you have to be like "michael?" "yeah kid?" "why is everyone staring at us?" [shuts curtain quickly]

okay that was a loooot. i do think though he's the type to pick your head back up and hold you in place if you bury it into his neck or a pillow because you can't hold eye contact during sex. veryyyyy eyes on me, kid. kind of breaks through the shyness because he has a very dirty mouth and you kind of are forced to break through because you enjoy it so much and you don't want him to stop. shy sweetheart wife has layers and he peels them all away. goes from girlfriend to wife really quickly, like, surprisingly quickly. it's because of the type of girlfriend she is, the waiting at home with dinner and dessert and making his house feel like a home with the smell of cookies and just really bringing warmth into that old man's bones. lots of you're killing me here, kid, when you're just staring up at him confused because what did you even do???? (gave him the reality of a life he thought he'd never have or be able to keep). an anxiety emotional shy girl.. lowkey perfect for him. lets him decompress and breakdown after a really bad day and wipes away his tears and somehow ends up crying too which just makes him smile because he knows how much you love him. i'm sure she brings in treats from the bakery to the hospital all the time around five thirty when the store closes, and she can be found hiding behind robby while he tells someone to bring it to the break room and thank his girlfriend (turns into don't forget to thank my wife real quick though). but it's endearing to robby. it's endearing to jack too, but that's for another time.

[trans-axolotl]

hi! do you or your followers have any recommendations or suggestions on ways to get more politically organised when you're very chronically ill and mainly bedbound / housebound?

im truly at a loss of what to do now because i cannot do the usual protest attending, mutual aid fundraiser event hosting, even making food for friends that are struggling. i sign petitions and try to keep friends updated with news but its not enough

Hi anon! Super important question. I have a few thoughts on possible ways to get more involved in organizing while you're bedbound/housebound. A lot of my suggestions are shaped by the context of me mostly doing organizing in largeish US cities, and I also know that a lot of what's possible depends on your own personal access needs/energy levels/etc. feel free to let me know if nothing i suggest is accessible for your situation and I can try to brainstorm some other ways of getting involved!

Joining an organization like Crips for Esims for Gaza that works to directly support Palestinians and needs help with online logistics work like handling donations, buying Esims, and connecting people. Their email is listed in the article to get in contact.

Prisoner solidarity support! This could look like writing cards or letters for incarcerated people, or helping out with a books to prisoners program. Survived and Punished has a guide on how to write letters, Black and Pink has an LGBTQ prison penpal program, and if you search "prisoner penpal program" in your area you can probably find something local to you. The Prison Library Support Network is a great online based organization that works as a reference library for incarcerated people, and has people do research (sometimes just by searching on Google!) to answer information questions sent by incarcerated people. They have regular online trainings about how to participate as a volunteer, the next one is on July 13th.

Listening in on police scanners when there are protests happening in your area, and giving live updates to protesters, either in a Signal message thread or just by posting live updates on twitter/bluesky. This can be super helpful so that people on the ground can get information about what the cops are doing and can try to avoid getting kettled/arrested/etc.

Adding alt text and video captions to social media content about protests, news, protest safety infographics, etc to ensure that this kind of content is accessible to everyone.

If you have access to a printer and ink, printing out things like know your rights cards, radical zines, flyers, etc. a lot of orgs i've been part of haven't had easy access to a printer and would have been SO thrilled if someone reached out to us and said "Hi I can't participate in other ways but I have a printer and I'm happy to print stuff for you when you need!"

Creating plain language translations of news, political concepts, etc. Autism against Fascism is a group that makes plain language articles about fascism and antifascism, and I think there are so many topics surrounding protests, oppression, organizing, etc for which it would be incredibly helpful to have plain language resources.

Online fundraising for a particular cause by making social media posts. You could spotlight a campaign from a family in Gaza and commit to making posts and boosting their campaign. If you have a hobby that you already spend energy on, you could do something like raffling off your art, or doing a video game stream to raise money.

Researching resources in your area and making a mutual aid reference document to help people connect to resources. For example, @tigerrsmn has an amazing trans resource directory that they spent a lot of work researching and continually update. This can be a super helpful community resource to create and share if there isn't something like it for your area yet.

The next few suggestions are ones that require more energy or might require leaving the house so I know they might not be at all relevant for you, but I also got another ask about ways to participate when you're a disabled person who can't risk getting arrested at protests and I wanted to combine the asks in one post.

In person jail support. This usually happens right after a protest where people have gotten arrested and can go into the night or the next day. People show up outside the jail with food, cigs, water, subway cards or cash, and wait for people to get released from jail. This might be more accessible to some people because it's low risk, stays in one spot, and you can sit down the whole time if needed.

Kit making for a harm reduction group. A lot of harm reduction groups in my city have monthly kit making nights where we meet up at a local bookstore and put safer use supplies in individual kits for people to give out at outreach.

Cooking for a mutual aid group, either at a community kitchen or at your own kitchen to create meals for people to hand out at outreach. I highly recommend Food not Bombs if there's a local FNB group in your area.

Creating "Don't get Kettled" maps for your city so that protestors can plan better routes where they can avoid police kettles. This can be done through a combination of looking for google street view and showing up to places in person to look for streets with easy pedestrian exits, accessible exits with no stairs, curb cuts, avoiding dead ends, tunnels, etc.

Cop Watch, Court Watch, ICE Watch. Joining networks of people who keep an eye out in your neighborhood and share information to rapid response networks about when cops and ICE are spotted. Participate in Court Watch by going to in person or virtual court hearings to observe, document, and address injustice in local courts. DC has a really robust CourtWatch program that you could learn from to set up something in your area if a courtwatch program doesn't already exist in your region.

This is definitely not a complete list so followers please feel free to add on with suggestions, and definitely feel free to reach out again with more info/questions and I can try to keep brainstorming!

[mortish-writes]

​You wake in a frozen wasteland, abandoned, hungry, and with no memory of who or what you are.

Two enigmatic and powerful men find you in the snow. They take you in and keep you warm. Try as you might to resist them, it isn't long before you lose your heart and your virtue...

The third moonday of the Bride of Shadows rework is now available on the public build.

Learn new lore.

Banter with Serax.

Have your first encounter with Kerach.

Sink into your third dream and choose your patron goddess.

Mature female-protagonist interactive romance novel, 18+

[Play the Public Build]

​

My computer broke last week. Thankfully it's all fixed as of yesterday and most of my data was saved to the cloud, but I'm still in the process of getting all of my programs re-installed and trying to figure out which email/password combos I used for various sites. Bear with me while I get my stuff sorted and I'll have an estimated date for the next update later this week. I have a big backlog of messages, I'm not ignoring anyone, I'm just running a little behind schedule and I'll answer everything once I'm caught up.

For those who haven't seen it yet, I'll be posting the dynamics guide here on Tumblr in a little bit. That will give you a comprehensive breakdown on how the new romance system works.

-Mortish

[shnowyfox]

Been a while since i just. made a post. Here's a bunch of Transformers: Sigma stuff!

ratbat things

some thumbnail concepts based on the hasbropulse g1 thumbnails

soundstar nation go back to sleep i love you i'm protecting you you dont need to be here for this one

i really like taking inspo from the g1 toys.

every decepticon/autobot hater

they sicken me

this is kind of old at this point i've worked on his pre earth mode a bit more since this pass but none of it's digital yet

brainstorm

this one isn't a redesign rlly i just... i love him..

this is REAALLY old i might not have even been working on sigma yet.

Shout out to headmasters for being so ass it inspired the entire sigma project after i read mtmte and realized it doesn't have to be that way.

rough masterforce human heights. the only one really redesigned rn is diver's human form. also apparently ginrai wears suspenders.

megastar shippers hate this one simple trick

oh yeah and my first real attempt at a nightbird redesign. it's really just the head which i somewhat based off of Sailor Victory's mech designs, i randomly watched it while i was in a phase thinking about her and was like "oh fr i should just do that" i like how her hood looks i just am really bad at drawing it so she gets this.

i watched the combaticons pilot and got some silly ideas.

idk why but bluestreak is their evil and intimidating horse he just shows up wherever these two do.

[horny-marbles]

Hihi! Unsure if you’d recognize me as 🧃 anon over on Tiv’s blog,,(I’m always found in the trenches over there) but I’ve been lurking on here for a bit now and can hold silent no longer!

As a fellow Ej main,,,, I gotta ask u. Erm what’s ur take on what HE would be like during period sex??? 👉👈

Ehe I love your work sm!!!!

hiiii yes i know u!! OK SO i'm using this as an excuse to post this fic i wrote a few months ago because i wasn't sure if i'd be shunned off this app for it lmfao, so like. i hope you got your answer 🫡

(also this is just some munch behaviour, but p in v is basically the same. he WILL get rabies. godspeed if you're on your period while he has his rut, you might actually get dicked into a coma)

(also also i'm not the proudest of this one but i've been fiending to post it so WHATEVER go my cannibal bf)

Bloodhound (Eyeless Jack x F!Reader)

CW: period oral, multiple orgasms, kinda public

wordcount 2.6k

It took forever to get to this point with Jack.

He’s not emotionally available. He doesn’t date. He doesn’t cuddle. He doesn’t care—at least, that’s what everyone at the mansion thought. He always keeps a distance, clinically cold, silent unless necessary. Most creeps only interact with him when they're dying and hoping he’d patch them up in time. You? You got in somehow.

It started with shared silences. You didn’t push, didn’t ask invasive questions. You treated him like a person, not a monster, not someone you can get something from. Maybe that’s what cracked him open.

Nothing about it was fast. It was Jack, after all. Glacial patience, iron self-control. And he… was a project in erosion. Small conversations, slow touches. Letting him fix a cut on your hand, not flinching at his claws, letting him hear your heartbeat up close while he stitched you up.

It took weeks for him to even look at you like something more than another resident of the mansion. Even longer to speak to you like you mattered. And months before you saw him with his guard down. Just a little. A crooked smile when you said something that caught him off-guard. He was cautious—frustratingly so—but over time, he allowed you closer.

Something changed along the lines. Eventually, you broke through. Maybe it was your quiet persistence. Maybe it was just time. Maybe he got tired of pretending your presence hadn't become sought out rather than just a nice surprise on the occasion.

Whatever it was, you were his now. And he was yours. Carefully. Quietly. Privately. Like something precious. It was gentler than you could've anticipated, but it felt monumental.

You knew he was demon enough to survive off flesh. You knew his senses were heightened—he’d mentioned it once, bluntly, like a clinical report. “Everyone in this house reeks. I ignore it. Easier that way.” You didn’t ask more.

So when your period started, you didn’t even think to tell him. Why would you? You weren’t the kind of person to make a big deal out of it out loud. You’d stuff a pad in your jacket, pop some ibuprofen, sulk, call it a day. Maybe mention it if sex came up to make sure he wasn't squeamish, but otherwise—whatever.

He was NOT squeamish.

He was a fucking wreck, in such a visceral way that it knocked him off balance.

He didn’t realize it at first. Not consciously. There was just… a difference.

Your heartbeat was lower. Your temperature ran hotter. A subtle change in the chemistry of your sweat. Not bad—nothing ever was with you. But different. Complicated.

Jack tuned these things out. Hormones, sweat, stress, sex—this mansion stank of it. He’d learned long ago that the only way to keep his sanity was to ignore everything that wasn’t essential. If he let it in—really let it in—he’d never get peace again.

But this wasn’t the house. This wasn’t “ambient noise.” This was you.

And your scent had changed.

At first, it was small. Just enough to raise the hair on his arms. His instincts whispered to him in the background, tugged at the base of his spine like a hooked wire. Something important was happening. Something ripe.

The smell started sweet. Then it got wet. Iron and heat. Blood and sugar and skin. A slick, dizzying cocktail of copper and pheromones that made something deep in his gut twitch.

He realized—too late—that you were bleeding.

He’d smelled it before, of course. Lived with women in this house. It had never meant anything to him. Just another reason to stay away for a few days, let the hormone cloud settle and spare himself the migraine.

But this wasn’t just any blood. It wasn't the viscera and gore he was so used to when feeding. This wasn't about hunger and survival. It was about you. About everything else that came with it — your hormones, the heat under your skin, the scent of pain and lust and life. You were a walking furnace, and he was standing downwind from the smoke.

Jack hadn’t accounted for that when he lowered his defenses to let you in. He hadn’t even considered that it might affect him differently.

But now it was like every cell in his body was tuned to you. Your scent dragged claws down his brainstem, lit every nerve like a chemical explosion. His mouth filled with saliva he didn’t need. His muscles locked so tight it hurt to move.

And his cock was constantly throbbing. There was barely any angle to adjust, no distraction strong enough. His body was betraying him, rock-solid and aching, cock flushed and twitching behind his jeans like it wanted to rip through.

Not just hard. Rigid. Like his entire body was bracing against some invisible force. His shoulders tense. Jaw clenched. Claws scraping gouges into the inside of his palm just to focus.

He stayed away that first day. Locked himself in his room. Didn’t answer when you knocked.

But the second day, your scent wafted behind you when you passed by him in the hall, grazing under his nose like it was both mocking and luring him in, and his knees buckled.

You were too busy chasing your cramps away with painkillers and heat pads to notice your boyfriend's change in behaviour, though.

You never noticed the way he breathed around you, measured and tight and absolutely refusing to inhale through his nose. The way he kept his hands in his pockets, hidden, clenched. The way his voice went low and clipped when you got too close.

But the way he wouldn't even look in your general direction—allusive to an actual glance as it would've been—became too on the nose. The way his shirt clung to his chest. The sheen of sweat permanently on his collar.

His breath stuttered when you leaned over the sink at some point before heading to bed. You were just getting a glass of water.

And Jack folded like laundry.

“Sit down.” His voice was low, firm, strained. Out of nowhere.

You blinked and turned around slowly. “What?”

His head was tilted slightly downward, jaw clenched like he was about to snap it off at the hinge. “The couch. Sit.”

You sat, confused. Bracing for the talk. Surely, the strange behaviour meant he was just done, for some reason. That's what your homonal mind jumped to anyway.

He knelt between your legs without another word. Okay, so no talk.

You stare down at him.

He's kneeling. Still. Broad hands braced on your thighs, fingers twitching like he’s holding himself back from shredding you to ribbons. He’s staring at your padded pussy like he can see it through your pajamas, like it owes him money. Like it promised him something and he came to collect.

Your legs spread a little—not even fully open—but his breath shudders out like he’s been punched.

“Jack?” you murmur, half-laughing, half-nervous. “What are you doing?”

His claws curl tighter into your thighs. He doesn’t answer right away. You can see the war in his head, muscles in his jaw doing Olympics when they twitch. He lifts a hand and rubs his face hard, dragging clawed fingers from brow to chin like he’s trying to scrape the hunger out of his skull.

He leans closer. Breathes in. Then again.

“Fuck—”

It’s a hiss. Half-formed. Desperate. Almost makes you jerk back, not with fear or disgust, but with realization.

“Jack—people could walk in—”

“Don’t care,” he growls. Not harsh—just raw. Like it costs him to speak at all. “I'll kill them. You need to—fuck—open your legs.”

You’re already open, but you listen. You shift. Knees wider. Hips tilted forward.

The second you do it, he twitches. Full body.

And then he leaps. Not violent—but like a man dying of thirst finally handed a glass of water. He buries his face in your clothed pussy and groans.

You feel it all: heat, vibration, desperation. He’s nuzzling hard through the fabric like it’s not enough, like he needs skin, taste, your fucking soul. His breath is hot, fast. You can feel him mouthing you over the cotton, and it sends sparks ripping through your spine.

“Jack—Jesus—wait, I'm on my—”

“Exactly,” he growls again, this time muffled against your cunt. “I need this.”

He yanks at your waistband, fast but careful. Pants and padded panties yanked off your ankles and tossed behind him on the floor. He looks deranged, mouth slightly parted, nostrils flaring, sweat beading at his temples.

And then—without asking, without warning—he leans in.

You jolt when you feel the first tongue.

Wet. Hot and starved. It licks from the bottom of your pussy to your clit in one slow, savoring drag. A moan vibrates against you—deep, long, throaty—and you feel how hard he’s gripping your thighs now, claws pressing in like they’re the only things tethering him to the floor.

The second tongue follows. Then the third. One on your clit. One swirling around your folds to pick up any trace of blood like he's licking a plate clean. The last one dips inside.

You choke out a sound that’s not even a word.

Jack doesn’t stop. Doesn’t breathe. He’s full-body focused, shuddering between your legs like he’s being electrocuted with pleasure just from tasting you. His tongues move in urgent patterns—suckling, lapping, sliding inside you—and the third one curls deep, pumping in slow, sinful thrusts like he’s tongue-fucking your cervix.

He's drinking you. Literally. You feel the small gush as your blood mixes with your arousal and his growl deepens. His head tilts, adjusting his angle like he’s trying to get more of it, and he moans again.

Jack doesn’t moan. He barely talks.

But right now, he’s loud and messy and desperate, to the point where—if you could have a moment of clarity—you would think his mating season came early.

Slurping noises echo off the walls, obscene and wet. You realize again where you are—the common room—and your whole body flushes.

“Jack—fucking hell, w-what if someone walks in—”

His only answer is to suck your clit into his mouth while his third tongue curls up inside you, pressing so deep it makes your vision stutter.

Your hips buck. He groans, and the vibration rattles your bones.

He moves faster.

Tongue on your clit flicking now, licking in fast little swipes. Second tongue dragging figure-eights across your folds. Third tongue fucking you like it’s trying to crawl into your womb.

Your thighs are trembling. Your head tips back, hand flying to his head, burying in his hair. You feel his body—solid, trembling, tense with restraint.

You cum so fast it makes you choke.

It hits you like lightning, shattering through your spine, hips jerking, thighs locking around his head. You hear yourself whimper trying to stay silent, feel your body clamp around his tongues, and Jack just growls into you like it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever experienced.

He doesn’t stop. Not even when you’re shaking. Not even when the blood runs thicker.

He just pulls back slightly to breathe—and fuck, he looks wrecked. His mouth is soaked—chin slick with blood and spit, dark red smeared halfway up to his cheeks, coating his skin like warpaint. He stares at your cunt like he’s starving, heaving like it's hurting him to unlatch his mouth from your taste.

You see his hand now. The one not gripping your thigh with bruising force, wrapped around his cock. Fist pumping slow and vicious—like he’s trying not to cum from the taste of you alone.

Because he almost did.

You feel the heat of his stare. Like he’s burned every inch of your cunt into his brain. Like nothing else exists in this moment but your flushed, swollen pussy and the mess he just made of you.

He looks up at you with bloodied lips parted and tongues curling, one of them flicking over his bottom lip in a slow, hungry drag.

“You’re gonna cum again,” he says, voice rough and quiet like a threat. “You're gonna give me everything."

You whimper simply from the way he leans back in like he owns you, like he was born for this.

The first tongue enters slow this time—broad and heavy, pushing past your bullied entrance with a wet, obscene squelch. Your hips twitch. You’re already sensitive, but your body opens for him anyway, clenches like it knows what’s coming.

He groans low in his throat. You feel the way your blood drips down his tongue, how he laps it deeper inside you like honey from the comb.

Then the second tongue slips in. Coiling around the first like a twisting vine, filling and stretching.

You cry out softly, biting your lip. Jack moans, long and muffled and fuck just drown me in this pussy.

His third tongue curls upward, lashes across your clit in maddening, lazy strokes like he’s teasing you on purpose. Tongue-fucking up into your walls with two thick lengths, while the third plays you like an instrument.

You don’t even realize your legs are shaking again until your hips lift off the couch.

He follows, grinding his face deeper, mouth slightly clumsy from the way he's stroking his cock—so hungry and fast it's shaking his whole body between your legs. You glance down through half-lidded eyes just to see him leaking, twitching with every slick drag of his tongues inside you.

He’s drenched in you.

From the mouth down. His chin, neck, part of his chest where he pressed in too close. The scent of blood and heat clings to him like paint, thick and sweet and wrong, but he looks exalted.

“Fffuck,” he slurs against you. “Your blood—fuck, your cunt, tastes like fucking life—”

The words shake you. Filthy and sincere. He’s never been this devastated before, this starved. His tongues are working you over like you’re his last meal, like he’s feeding off of you. And fuck, maybe he is. Maybe something deep in his instincts, something more primal, is actually reveling in this.

His pace quickens. You can feel it—that edge coming again. Too fast. Too hard. Overstimulated but desperate, everything in your body pulling tight like a bowstring.

You grab at his hair, desperate to ground yourself.

One tongue thrusts hard, firm and deep. The second curls tighter, twisting against your walls. The third presses flat to your clit, and when he moans into you again, the vibration alone is enough to split you.

“Jack—Jack I’m—”

“Cum for me,” he growls. Muffled, throat clicking and rasping. Tongue still deep inside you. “Cum with my fucking name in your mouth.”

You do, and it leaves you raw.

Back arching. Hands clawing at the couch. Legs locking around his head so tight he grunts, but doesn’t stop. He leans into it, forces the orgasm to drag out, mouth still moving until you’re jerking, twitching, moaning high and sharp as your body convulses under the weight of your second release.

You have to pry him away with a weak hand on his forehead and a choked sob for him to unlatch his lips from your clit with a wet pop.

He’s panting against your pussy, blood and slick coating his face, and you can feel his body shaking between your legs with every feral pump of his fist, tight and harsh around his cock.

And he growls, low and feral, and you can only jerk back and look around to make sure no one was around as he cums hard between his knees, untouched by you, just from tasting your cunt and blood. Hot ropes splatter against the floor. His head tips back, face the most beautifully grotesque picture of bliss.

The room is silent but for your breaths. Heavy. Laced with the obscene stink of sex and blood and pure animalistic worship.

Jack wipes his face with the back of his hand only to lick the smeared blood off his knuckles. Not slow. Not seductive. Just hungry.

He looks at you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever need to taste.

“…We’re doing this every month,” he says, voice hoarse. “Every month.”

[contentloadingandstuff]

...And here is the first Monster!Reader I've ever done. I remember it being an ask that simply wanted something with Nilou - the reader was, as I recall, quite surprised and all the more happy with my answer for it. Initially I thought it would be too much - it definitely strays a bit from what you usually get when asking for smut, but I decided to shoot my shot. It turned out great, if reader satisfaction is considered. I also like it, though modern me would definitely write it better. What do you guys think about this one?

While we're on the topic, I'd like to address something. Some people might think (correctly) that older fics are much worse and that they deserve a remake. They won't get one. Why? Two reasons - first, if I were to remake them, I would obscure some important blog history of how my writing evolved. I'm keeping them like this to show how I've improved over the years. And secondly, it would be a less efficient use of my writing time. Instead of reheating old pizza, I'd rather make a new one. It simply gives you more things to read and prevents disappointment and rolling eyes at me just redoing old stuff. I don't want to be Disney!

I hope it works. Does it? I sure hope it does.

Patronage For The Worthy - Incubus!Male!Reader x Nilou

A/N: This idea for the reader has been living in my mind rent free for a good chunk of time, and here it is. Hope everyone likes it!

CW: Cervix sex, Male!Reader

NSFW under the cut.

Nilou opens her eyes. Everything is dark around her. A small amount of light falls through her window, illuminating her covered feet a little. She feels a cold gust of air coming from somewhere to her left. She rubs her eyes, yawns, and sits up in bed. 

She looks around. The window is open, letting the cool summer air move the curtains. Nilou, dressed up in her nightgown, gets up and moves to close it. When she stands before the opening, she can’t help but look out at the city. It’s very late, so only a handful of people roam the streets, illuminated by street lanterns. She looks up at the starry sky, and marvels at the full moon. It’s so beautiful, she thinks. 

“Yes indeed. The moon looks incredible today.”

She freezes in sudden horror. Somebody is in her room. Her heart speeds up, and her chest feels heavy with stress. She slowly turns around.

A man is sitting on the edge of her bed. He has short, dark hair. He seems tall, however the way he is sitting, leaning forward while resting his forearms on his thighs make it hard to judge his true height. Small horns are visible through his hair. The pupils of his eyes glow lightly with a red shine. 

Her eyes go wide. She tries to back away, but she is soon stopped by the windowsill. Her breath speeds up.

“W-who are you? What a-are you? W-what do you want from m-me?!” Her voice cracks from fear. The man stands up, revealing his true height. He is much taller than her, and bigger too. His arms are thick and his shoulders are broad. He raises his large hands up slightly.

Nilou would be ready to use her Vision if it wasn’t this late, if his entry wasn’t so sudden, and if only he wasn’t so… huge. Nilou is certain that with a single swing of his powerful arms he could send her flying. She tries to move, but her body refuses. She is frozen as he approaches her.

“S-stay away! Don’t c-come any c-closer!” Her knees tremble, and she slowly lowers herself to the ground.

“Hey, hey. Stay calm. I mean no harm.” The demon’s voice is surprisingly… normal. It’s nothing like she expected. It’s deep, yes, but very human at the same time. But most of all, it’s calm and steady. Its tone is… oddly soothing.

Her heart starts slowing down against all reason. The man’s aura feels… comforting?

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you, alright? Deep breaths, Nilou.” 

With no other choice but to obey, Nilou nods. 

“O-okay… but don’t come any closer. Please.”

The demon crouches down to meet her eye level. In the darkness his eyes give off a faint, red glow. Her visitor shrugs.

“As you wish.”

It takes her a few solid moments to calm down. She takes in the posture of the demon. It’s relaxed and casual, much to her surprise. A soft smile is on his lips all the while. She finds the courage to speak.

“Who are you?”

“Well, as you can see… I’m a demon.” He smiles, revealing two sharp fangs in his mouth. Nilou shivers at how sharp they look.

“And why are you here?”

The demon laughs. “I’m just here to visit you, obviously. See… I have been watching your performances for quite some time now. I must say… they are quite… breathtaking.” His smile widens. Despite how strange this situation is, Nilou can’t help but blush a little at the praise.

“Thank you…”

“...And I believe that great work is to be rewarded properly. So here I am. For this night, you're my mistress. I will do everything you ask of me to the best of my ability.”

What the demon said is still being processed in her mind as he stretches out his left arm towards her. 

“I understand if you don’t trust me. That’s why I will give you my word. And incubi’s words are never empty.”

 Suddenly, his wrist starts glowing. Nilou is taken back by the sizzle and the smell of flesh being burned. The incubus remains still as her constellation is burned into his forearm. The unearthly fire dies down as suddenly as it arose, along with the smell. 

The demon sighs. 

"Now I am not allowed to do anything against your will. As well as this contract, I will provide you with my name. The one thing that allows one to control a demon completely. Call me… Y/N.”

“Y/N…” As she says the word, the demon’s eyes glow blue. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Yours is as well, Nilou. Or… do you want me to call you anything else tonight?”

Nilou thinks for a moment, before replying. 

“Is it okay if you call me… ‘princess’?”

Y/N chuckles. “Of course, princess. It’s all about you tonight. Whatever you wish. ”

Nilou looks at Y/N again. His face bears a smug smile. She traces down to look at his body. It’s large and muscular, but most of it is covered by the casual gown he is wearing. All of his torso, except for a chest window. Before she can fully take it in, the demon speaks again.

“How about we sit somewhere more comfortable, princess Nilou?”

She gives a small nod. Suddenly, Y/N picks her up with one arm, completely effortlessly. She squeals in surprise. He gently lowers her to the bed, and sits beside her. As he does, the clothing parts, letting her see his entire chest. It’s very muscular, with six firm abs and well toned skin. She looks up and down Y/N, taking in his impressive physique. 

"Hey. My eyes are up here, princess." 

Nilou nearly jumps in surprise. Her eyes move from his face to the bed and to the floor in panic. Her cheeks flush red. 

"S-sorry…" She replies somewhat ashamed of how blatantly she was checking him out. 

The demon laughs. 

"Hey, it's okay. Do you like it?" 

"I… u-um… like it a lot." She is redder still, avoiding his smug gaze. 

He suddenly, but gently, grabs her hand, and pulls it to rest on his stomach. 

"You can touch it if you want to. I don't mind."

Nilou gulps. Despite what the demon said, there's still a little spark of worry lingering inside her mind. What if she makes a misstep, and touches him in a spot he doesn't like? He could do something to her… But she has to admit. It's kind of… exciting. To be able to touch such a beautiful body… 

She gently guides her hand along your stomach, feeling every small bump of your muscle. They are firm and hard, yet your skin is soft and warm. So pleasant to touch. She moves up, resting her hand between the breasts, and finds no heartbeat. 

"You… really are not mortal…" She moves up her other hand to your shoulders, gently parting the clothing even further. "May I…?" 

"Yes, feel free. Do what you want with me." You smile encouragingly. 

She removes your top completely, exposing your forearms. She moves closer to you, hands now guiding alongside your forearms. Nilou traces her fingers along the perfect curve of your biceps, taking in how hard, yet soft your flesh is. Her touch is gentle, almost feather light. 

Nilou looks at your face, and an idea suddenly pops into her mind. She lifts her left hand to rest on your cheek. With a slow and careful movement, she moves her thumb to your lips, gently parting them. Her mouth opens slightly as she caresses the teeth. She drags her digit down towards your tongue, and pushes it in slightly. You obediently suck on it, making her blush. 

Nilou clumsily mounts you, and you lean back. She sits on your stomach, and you can feel the heat radiating from her core. She sighs as you speed up your tongue work. Her other hand draws circles around your breast, gently rubbing against the nipple. You let out a soft moan as you surrender to her touch. 

The heat inside her is growing by the second. Y/N… Such a powerful being, big, strong… with nothing but a light press of his sharp teeth he could bite off her fingers, and yet here he is, worshiping her fingers. Such a beautiful creature, surrendering to her every whim… 

Nilou doesn't notice when her hips start moving up and down your abs. You, however, can feel all the wetness seeping through her pajama bottoms. Your hands move to hold her ass, gently helping her move. She gasps when she feels you move, and a small frown appears on her lips. Pleasure? Extortion? Dissatisfaction? You can't tell. 

She grabs your bigger hands and moves them to rest on the covers, pinning them down by the sides of your head. You let her lips find yours as she leans down. Your tongues intertwine, but you let her take the lead. In no time she is exploring your mouth, hips still bucking back and forth against your stomach. 

When she parts with you, hot, blushing and out of breath, you look down at her hips. Her nightgown bottoms are completely soaked in the crotch area. You purr, looking deep into her eyes. 

"Ah, you love that, princess Nilou, don't you?" 

She lets out a small moan, mouth now agape in hard earned pleasure. "Yes…" 

"Let me lend you a hand then."

Your eyes glow, and suddenly her clothes are gone, turned into black particles. This doesn't surprise or startle her. Instead, she just dives into your lips again, exposed pussy rubbing against your soft skin with twice the intensity now. She is too overcome with lust and desire to care, or feel even an ounce of shame. 

With an especially wide hip move, her core rubs against your bulge. In an instant, a new wave of desire overcomes her. Her nose takes in your beautiful, overwhelmingly hot smell, and she can feel that familiar itch between her legs. But this time, her fingers won't do the trick. 

"I want you, now… please… serve me w-with your body, Y/N…" 

Your eyes glow again, and your pants are completely gone in an instant, allowing your cock to spring free of its confines. Without delay, she grabs it in her hand. She rubs her palm against your head, gathering the slick and precum. Nilou timidly takes a whiff of your musk, and her eyes water at how strong it is. Wasting no time, she places your head against her entrance, and slowly, very slowly, starts pushing it in. 

She whines as your tip stretches her body. You move your hands to support her lower thighs, securing her movement. Her eyes flutter shut as she feels her insides being pushed apart, making space for your overwhelming length. She feels so full, so delightfully filled, and yet it's just the halfway point. She moves her hips up and down a little, sending waves of pleasure through the both of you. She moans lightly, hands gripping your shoulders for support. You can feel her fingers digging deeper and deeper into your skin with every millimeter of depth. 

Nilou runs out of breath for a second, before a sweet, loud yelp reaches your ears. You can feel a firm wall of flesh touching your cock. Her eyes roll back, and she falls on your chest, breathing heavily. Her cervix prevents you from going deeper, so you start moving your hips back. Gently, but firmly, you snap them back forward, striking her wall and earning a gasp from her. She digs her nails into you, drawing blood as you fuck her gently. 

Nilou soon convulses, her walls pulsing, throbbing and clenching around your shaft. With her first orgasm, any sense of boundary or restraint is gone. Despite her orgasm induced exhaustion, she starts moving again. You both moan in unison as Nilou lets go of her desires and rides you for another orgasm. 

And then another, and another until her body gave out on her. You left her there, bruised, covered in hickeys and absolutely spent. 

The sleep she had was the best of her life that night. 

—

Nilou awoke the next morning. Every part of her hurt, from her toes to the top of her head. Lightly stretching, she looked around her room. Even though she remembered it to be more or less trashed, it was cleaned. A new set of pajamas, identical to those she lost during the night, was resting on top of her night stand. 

On shaky, sore legs she moved to the bathroom. Moving to the kitchen after washing herself down with lukewarm water, a silver, covered tray caught her attention. A small piece of paper lay next to it. She glanced over the text, written in beautiful, decorative font. 

"Loved the night. Made you breakfast. See you on the next show, princess~ - Y/N."

Nilou lifted the cover, coming face to face with a steaming hot pile of pancakes. She nearly squealed with joy at the sight. The girl rushed to grab some cutlery, but a flash of pain stopped her in her tracks. Rubbing her sore hips, she chuckled to himself. 

Maybe she really did go too far yesterday. 

Thanks for reading!

[jessesluvr]

Omg can I request something where reader is ellie's little sister, and ellie and jesse are best friends (very each others bros like on the game, because they seem like they just tolerate each other on the show🥲) and jesse always treated reader just like "my best friend's younger sister).... Until one time the three of them are playing video game (actually reader is just watching because ellie is having that normal older sibling behaviour of "nah we play, you just watch") but then ellie needs to get out for a bit because of something important, leaving her sister and jesse alone. And they're teasing each other (platonically) like they usually do, jesse (always having a soft spot for reader and spoiling her a bit) let's her play one match with him before ellie comes back, and then when jesse is winning reader gets his 🎮 (english is not my first language, forgot the name of this) from him and he tries to get it back while she's struggling on the couch, like they're playing wrestling.

But then things get out of control a bit when jesse... Well, gets a boner.

Anyways, the only thing I'm begging to be added is dry humping over their clothes. If you wanna add any more thing after that or what will jesse's feelings be (is captain wyoming feel guilty or not after?) you decide!!

not just ellie's sister | jesse x reader

author's note : hey.. how y'all doin...

summary : jesse always saw you as ellie’s little sister—until one night alone changed everything. after teasing turns to tension and feelings come to light, the two of you have to face ellie, the truth, and what it really means to fall for each other.

warnings : lowkey smut, grinding, dry-humping, that kinda stuff.. mndi 18+

word count : 3.8k

you were used to being on the sidelines.

ellie had always been the center of attention, the louder one, the sharper one, the one people noticed first. not that you minded — you were used to her storming through rooms like a whirlwind while you followed in her wake, quieter, more observant. being her little sister came with territory. especially when it came to her best friend, jesse.

jesse, with his easy grin and dark eyes and habit of ruffling your hair like you were still twelve.

he always treated you like a kid, even though you were officially eighteen now — something ellie had rolled her eyes about during your birthday dinner last week. jesse had been there, of course, sitting beside ellie, cracking jokes the entire time and handing you the last slice of pie when no one else was looking. he always did that — little things that felt soft, almost sweet, but were quickly dismissed with a “don’t get used to it, squirt.”

you never knew how to respond to that nickname. it made you want to throw something at him and also maybe blush at the same time.

tonight was another “game night” at ellie’s place. you weren’t even supposed to be there, but you were bored, and the snowstorm outside had knocked out power in half the town. her place still had a working generator, which meant heat, lights, and — most importantly — working consoles.

you’d wandered in, curled up on the other end of the couch with a blanket, pretending to be more interested in the book in your hands than the chaos unfolding on the screen.

“you’re cheating,” ellie muttered, eyes narrowed as she shoved jesse’s shoulder.

“you’re just mad i’m better than you,” jesse shot back, his voice warm with laughter.

“bullshit.”

“language,” he said mockingly, glancing over his shoulder at you. “you hear this, squirt? your sister’s a menace.”

“yeah, i live with her,” you said without looking up from the page.

jesse snorted, his attention flicking back to the screen. you couldn’t help but peek over your book, eyes landing on his profile — the slope of his nose, the dark lashes, the way his hands gripped the controller, fingers quick and confident.

ugh. annoying.

“you wanna play or what?” ellie asked, her tone more of a challenge than an offer.

you blinked, startled. “me?”

“no, the ghost behind you.”

you frowned. “uh… yeah, sure.”

jesse was already shaking his head. “nah, we’re mid-round. just wait.”

you didn’t miss the smug look he sent you, like he knew you wouldn’t say anything. like he expected you to just sit and watch like always.

and, well. he wasn’t wrong.

you sighed, curling tighter under the blanket.

“backseat gaming is an art,” jesse said as he took the lead in whatever shooter they were playing, “and your sister’s a master.”

“eat shit,” ellie said cheerfully.

you rolled your eyes. typical.

the match went on for another fifteen minutes before ellie suddenly paused, sitting upright. “fuck— i forgot i told dina i’d meet her at the greenhouse about the patrol rotation.”

jesse looked over. “now?”

“yep. i’ll be quick.” she was already standing, grabbing her coat.

you sat up too. “should i come with?”

“nah. jesse’ll keep you company. don’t let her touch my save file,” ellie added before slamming the door behind her.

the silence after she left was… weird.

you glanced at jesse. he was still lounging against the armrest, long legs stretched out, controller balanced on his stomach.

“what?” he said, catching you staring.

“nothing.”

he raised a brow. “you always look at people like you wanna bite them?”

you flushed. “you’re annoying.”

“takes one to know one.”

you threw a pillow at him.

he caught it with one hand and smirked. “feisty.”

“ugh.”

you tried to go back to your book, but it was useless. jesse was still smirking, clearly enjoying himself.

after a beat, he sighed dramatically. “fine. wanna play a round?”

your head snapped up. “seriously?”

“one round. before ellie gets back.”

you scrambled off the couch before he could change his mind. “you’re gonna regret this.”

“am i?” he asked, handing you the controller.

“yes.”

you sat beside him, closer now, shoulder nearly brushing his. he didn’t move away.

“you’re going down,” you warned, trying to sound fierce.

jesse chuckled. “sure, squirt.”

you narrowed your eyes but didn’t correct him.

the match started. for a second, you were too focused on the controls to care how close you were sitting. your tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth as you concentrated, and jesse, the bastard, kept giving commentary the whole time.

“you’re heading into a trap.”

“no i’m not.”

“yep. aaand there it is.”

“shut up.”

“this is adorable,” he said, clearly enjoying your frustration.

when he took the lead again, you groaned. “you’re cheating.”

“we’ve been over this.”

“you’re such a sore winner.”

“and you’re a sore loser.”

“fuck you.”

“language.”

you lunged for his controller on instinct — a reckless, childish move. he laughed as you half-threw yourself into his lap, trying to grab it from his hands.

“give it—!”

“no way, you maniac—”

he twisted away, but you followed, and suddenly you were both tangled on the couch, limbs everywhere, your hand still gripping the edge of his controller as you wrestled it from his hands.

“i’m serious!” you gasped between laughs. “gimme—!”

“you’re insane—ow, that’s my leg—”

you were struggling, straddling his thighs now without even realizing, the controller caught between your chests, your weight pressed against him. your breath was hot, your face flushed, and jesse wasn’t laughing anymore.

you blinked. “what?”

he didn’t answer.

you looked down — and felt it.

the heat, the pressure between your thighs.

oh.

your breath caught.

jesse didn’t move. he looked… frozen. his hands still lightly held your waist from when he tried to push you off, but now they weren’t moving. his eyes were dark, mouth parted.

your heart slammed into your ribs.

you didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

jesse swallowed hard. “shit.”

you didn’t know if it was an apology or a curse or a warning.

you didn’t say anything.

and still — you didn’t move.

you still didn’t move.

your legs were straddled over his lap. his hands were on your waist, loose but not pulling away. and you could feel him — through his jeans, hard and unmistakably there.

the air between you went still. the video game was still playing, the match forgotten, the controller now lodged somewhere between your bodies. your hands had stilled on his chest.

“jesse…” you said finally, voice barely above a whisper.

his jaw flexed. “i didn’t mean—fuck.”

he closed his eyes for a second like he was trying to will it all away. maybe he thought you’d leap off him, run to tell ellie. maybe he was bracing for you to be disgusted, to scream.

you didn’t move.

instead, your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his shirt.

“i didn’t mean for that to happen,” he muttered, eyes still on yours. “swear to god.”

you searched his face, heat licking up your neck and into your ears. his cheeks were flushed. he looked… embarrassed. maybe even panicked.

but he didn’t let go of you.

your pulse was racing. your thighs were burning from the tension. you were aware of every single place your body was touching his.

“i know,” you said quietly. “it’s fine.”

his eyes flicked to yours again. “it’s not.”

“it is.”

you surprised yourself with how steady your voice was. with how calm you felt — or maybe it wasn’t calm. maybe it was something else. something sharp and coiled and low in your stomach.

you didn’t know who moved first.

but suddenly, you shifted your hips — just a little — and jesse let out a sound in his throat that made your breath hitch.

“fuck,” he whispered.

his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, like he was torn between pushing you off and pulling you closer.

your thighs clenched around him instinctively. his hard-on was pressing up against your center, and it was driving you insane.

you were still clothed. everything was still technically safe. you weren’t doing anything.

except you were.

“jesse,” you said again, breathier this time.

his eyes were locked on your lips now. like he couldn’t stop looking.

“we shouldn’t,” he said, but his voice cracked halfway through it.

you nodded slowly. “we shouldn’t.”

you rolled your hips again, slower this time. deliberate.

he swore under his breath, his head falling back against the couch. his grip shifted — one hand splayed against your lower back now, the other tightening on your thigh.

you both exhaled shakily.

you moved again, and this time, he moved with you.

it was subtle at first — just the smallest tilt of his hips, meeting you halfway. but then your bodies found a rhythm, your thighs tightening around him, his fingers digging in.

you were panting now. so was he.

you could feel everything. the heat between your legs, the thick pressure of him through his jeans, the way the friction built and built and—

“jesse,” you gasped, your forehead pressing to his shoulder. “jesse—”

he groaned, low and strangled, his hand sliding up your spine under your shirt, not quite touching skin, but close enough to make your whole body shiver.

“fuck, you feel—” he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

you were rocking now, slow and desperate, grinding down on him, chasing something you didn’t even fully understand. he was breathing hard, fingers gripping you like he was barely holding on.

“this is so fucking wrong,” he said, but he didn’t stop.

you whimpered — actual, shameless noise slipping from your mouth as the pressure built. your body felt molten, every nerve lit up, your thighs shaking around his hips.

“jesse, please—”

that broke him.

his hands suddenly slid lower, gripping under your thighs as he pulled you harder against him, matching your pace now, grinding up with every move of your hips.

your face buried in his neck, your mouth open against his skin, and you could feel how close you were, right on the edge, the friction perfect, too much, too good—

“i can’t,” he gasped. “i can’t—fuck, you’re gonna make me—”

you cried out, the sound swallowed against his neck as the pressure burst inside you. everything went white-hot, your legs trembling, breath stolen from your lungs.

jesse groaned a second later — a rough, broken sound as his hips bucked up one last time and stilled.

you both collapsed against each other, chests heaving, sweat beading at your temples.

no one spoke.

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that — tangled, ruined, clothed but wrecked. your hands still fisted in the fabric of his shirt, his arms still wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

you pulled back just enough to look at him.

jesse’s face was flushed, lips parted, hair mussed.

he looked at you like he didn’t know what the hell just happened.

and maybe he didn’t.

you didn’t either.

you didn’t know what to say.

neither did he.

your body was still pressed to his, your breathing uneven. you hadn’t moved off his lap. jesse’s hands were no longer gripping you, but they were still there — hovering. cautious.

the glow from the tv bathed the room in a soft, blue light. the game’s end screen played on loop, obnoxiously cheerful and so painfully normal.

you shifted first.

just a little, off to the side, sliding from his lap, suddenly very aware of everything. the wet heat between your legs. the ache in your thighs. the fact that you weren’t supposed to feel this way about jesse. your sister’s best friend.

he cleared his throat.

you glanced at him.

he looked… pale. or green. or both.

“jesse…” your voice came out smaller than you meant.

he ran a hand through his hair. “i shouldn’t have let that happen.”

you flinched. the words landed sharp.

“oh.”

“i mean—” he cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut. “not like that. just. i shouldn’t have let it get that far. not with you.”

“because i’m ellie’s sister,” you said. flat.

“yeah. and because—fuck. you’re younger. and i—i knew better.”

your chest tightened. “but you still did it.”

his eyes met yours. they were a mess of guilt and something else. something softer, something he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to.

“i didn’t plan it,” he said. “you know that.”

you nodded. “yeah.”

but it still happened.

the air was too quiet. too heavy.

jesse leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands.

you didn’t know if he was ashamed of himself, or of what it meant.

and you didn’t know if you should feel ashamed, too.

you opened your mouth — to say something, to break the silence, to ask if this meant anything — when the front door opened.

your entire body stiffened.

“yo,” ellie called. “sorry, that took way longer than I thought. some drunk asshole at the gate kept talking shit to—”

her words froze midair.

you and jesse were sitting on opposite ends of the couch now. his hair was messy. your shirt was slightly askew. the controller was on the floor.

you knew she noticed.

“uh…” she raised an eyebrow, looking between you two. “did i miss something?”

jesse stood up a little too fast. “nah. we were just—playing.”

“mm-hm,” ellie said, still staring. “looks like it.”

you swallowed hard. your heart was hammering in your chest.

“i’m gonna head out,” jesse said, rubbing the back of his neck. “got patrol in the morning.”

ellie frowned. “you’re not staying? we always finish three rounds, man.”

“not tonight.” his voice was tight. too neutral.

he looked at you one last time — unreadable — and then slipped past ellie and out the door.

the silence he left behind was deafening.

ellie turned to you slowly. “what the hell was that?”

you shook your head. “nothing.”

“don’t bullshit me. you two looked like you just committed a crime.”

you forced a laugh. “maybe because you always treat me like i’m six and never let me play?”

she rolled her eyes. “distracting tactic. not working.”

you stood up. “i’m tired.”

she narrowed her eyes. “you didn’t answer the question.”

“there’s no question to answer.”

a beat of silence.

“you know he’s my best friend, right?” her voice was calm now. too calm.

“i know.”

“and you’re my baby sister.”

you winced. “i’m not a baby.”

ellie didn’t argue. she just stared for a long moment, then sighed, clearly deciding to let it go.

“fine. go sulk in your room. but if he hurt you, or even made a move, i’ll shove my boot so far up his ass—”

you were already walking away.

“night, ellie,” you called, heart pounding.

when you closed your door, you leaned back against it, breath shaky, hands clenched.

you thought about jesse’s expression.

you didn’t know what it meant.

the next morning

you avoided him.

you skipped breakfast. skipped patrol. said you were sick.

jesse didn’t come by.

you hated that you noticed.

your stomach was twisted up in knots. your mind was a war zone.

you weren’t sure what scared you more — the way he touched you last night, or the way he hadn’t come back after.

later that week

you ran into him near the stables. he was helping dina load supplies. his hair was damp from sweat. he looked exhausted.

when he saw you, he hesitated. then he gave a small nod.

you walked past him without saying anything.

that night, you cried into your pillow.

you heard the knock around midnight.

three soft raps.

you were still awake. curled under your blanket, staring at the ceiling, heart hollow and thoughts tangled. the knock made your stomach lurch.

you knew it was him.

you padded to the door quietly, cracked it open.

jesse stood on the porch. hoodie on. hair slightly damp from the cold. hands in his pockets.

he looked like he hadn’t slept.

“hey,” he said softly.

you didn’t speak.

“can we talk?” his voice was careful, like if he spoke too loud, you’d slam the door shut.

you opened it wider. stepped back.

he came in.

you sat on the edge of your bed, arms wrapped around your knees.

he stood near the dresser, not too close.

the silence was thick.

finally, you broke it.

“you didn’t come back.”

he winced. “i know.”

“i thought you were gonna pretend nothing happened.”

“i tried.”

you blinked. “and?”

“i couldn’t.”

you swallowed.

jesse ran a hand through his hair. “i don’t know what the hell came over me that night. i just… it was stupid. we were messing around. and then suddenly you were on my lap and laughing and—fuck.”

you looked down. “and you got hard.”

he groaned. “god. don’t say it like that.”

“why? it’s what happened.”

“yeah, i know it is.” he sat down across from you, elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor. “and i’ve been trying to convince myself it didn’t mean anything, that it was just… hormones. heat of the moment.”

“but?”

he looked up, eyes meeting yours.

“but it did mean something.”

your breath caught.

“i’ve always had a soft spot for you,” he said. “i told myself it was just ‘best friend’s little sister’ shit. like—like i was supposed to care about you, protect you, that kind of thing.”

you said nothing.

“but it wasn’t just that. not really. not for a while now.”

your voice was barely above a whisper. “so why’d you avoid me?”

“because i was scared.”

you blinked. “of what?”

“of what this means. of what ellie would do. of ruining everything.”

you stayed silent for a moment. then: “it’s already ruined, isn’t it?”

jesse looked at you with something close to desperation. “i don’t want it to be.”

you exhaled shakily. “me neither.”

his expression softened.

“you have no idea what it’s been like trying to act normal around you,” he admitted. “you tease me and joke and laugh and i just… i want to kiss you so bad it hurts sometimes.”

your heart stuttered.

“jesse—”

“but i never did,” he cut in. “i never crossed the line. until that night. and now i can’t stop thinking about it.”

you looked at him. really looked.

he was nervous. raw. so different from the smooth, teasing jesse you knew.

you whispered, “i think about it too.”

he let out a quiet breath. “yeah?”

you nodded. “every night.”

he swallowed hard.

you reached for him without thinking.

and he came to you like gravity.

your hands met. fingers laced. foreheads touching. eyes fluttering shut.

“we shouldn’t,” he whispered.

“i know.”

“but i want to.”

you pulled him down to you.

this kiss wasn’t messy or rushed like before. it was soft. slow. full of ache and honesty. it tasted like things you couldn’t say out loud.

his hand cupped your cheek. your fingers gripped his hoodie.

he pulled away just slightly, resting his head against yours.

“what are we gonna tell ellie?” he murmured.

you gave a breath of a laugh. “maybe let’s not lead with the boner story.”

he chuckled. “good plan.”

“we’ll figure it out,” you whispered.

and for the first time in days, jesse smiled.

you lasted three days.

three whole days of sneaking glances, brushing hands when no one was looking, and one very guilty makeout session behind the stables while jesse was on lunch break.

but jesse wasn’t built for secrets.

and ellie? well, she wasn’t built for being lied to.

it happened late in the afternoon.

jesse was walking you home. nothing dramatic. just a few quiet jokes, a shoulder bump here, a grin there.

you thought you were doing a good job pretending.

until you heard her voice from behind you.

“are you two seriously flirting right now?”

you both froze.

you turned.

ellie was standing by the greenhouse, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, eyes narrowing like she was calculating how fast she could kill jesse with her bare hands.

jesse stepped back from you immediately. “ellie—”

“don’t ‘ellie’ me,” she snapped. “what the fuck is this?”

you opened your mouth.

she held up a hand. “no. i want to hear it from him.”

jesse looked like he’d rather face a horde of infected than whatever was about to happen.

but he squared his shoulders. faced her.

“i like her,” he said. simple. steady. no bullshit.

ellie blinked. “what.”

“i like your sister,” he repeated. “i didn’t mean to. i didn’t plan it. but i do. and i’m not gonna lie about it.”

she stared at him like he’d grown a second head. then turned to you.

“you like him too?”

your throat was dry. but you nodded.

ellie swore under her breath and paced in a circle. “jesse, what the hell, man. you’re my best friend.”

“i know.”

“and she’s my little sister!”

“yeah, i got that part,” jesse muttered, and you elbowed him hard.

ellie spun. “how long?”

jesse glanced at you. then back at her. “depends on what you mean. we hooked up once. by accident.”

ellie’s face contorted. “jesus, i didn’t need the details—”

“not like that!” you cut in, cheeks burning. “we didn’t sleep together.”

jesse coughed. “technically—”

you glared. “shut up.”

ellie looked between you, disbelief all over her face.

then she sighed. long. drawn out. the sigh of a sibling who was very tired.

“you two are unbelievable.”

you held your breath.

she walked over. poked you in the forehead.

“you better not let him break your heart.”

you blinked. “wait. that’s it?”

she rolled her eyes. “what do you want, a dramatic monologue?”

“i thought you were gonna kill him.”

“i still might.”

“fair.”

ellie turned to jesse. “i swear to god, if you hurt her—”

“i won’t,” he said. voice quiet. serious.

“you better not,” she muttered, then looked skyward. “this is so weird.”

jesse stepped beside you. laced his fingers with yours.

ellie groaned. “ugh, don’t do that in front of me.”

you grinned.

and for the first time, it felt real.

no guilt. no hiding. just you, jesse, and a sister who was annoyed but ultimately—still your sister.

one week later

jesse picked you up for dinner.

ellie made gagging noises when he kissed your forehead in front of her.

dina rolled her eyes and whispered, “called it” into her drink.

and you?

you just smiled.

because somehow, everything turned out okay.

maybe even more than okay.

[steamberrystudio]

22/06/2025 Tumblr Update

Helloooo everyone! I am here to update you on When Stars Collide! *dramatic pose*

On time!

FIRST. An announcement:

Yes. Chapter 6 should be publicly releasing this coming Thursday. 

Chapter 6 is currently in early access on Patreon and yeah, a few more days of that before the release goes public.

The jury's in and...so far, everyone agrees that Noel's butt gets many mentions in this release. And that's a good thing.  🍑

Anyway, keep reading for more info about WSC development!

Summary Bullets:

Released the Chapter 6 early access to Patrons

Finished the Chapter 6 Patreon guide

Finished all sprite staging for ch7

Started coding expressions into the menu branching for ch7

Edited two critical scenes for separate characters to add in slightly more variation in how that moment plays out for various LIs.

Wrote, edited, and coded two new scenes for the "No LI off-ramp" section

Created two new BGs 

Worked on a new minor character sprite

Started CG planning for Ch7

Art:

Since my last update I have not done too much art-wise but I did make two new BGs for a sequence in Chapter 7 and I worked on a new minor character sprite.

I actually do have a fair amount of art to do for Chapter 7 - I have 5 minor characters who need sprites, and while I will be re-using the sprite base for some of them, I still will be giving them unique hair, outfits, etc.

And I have the CGs (but that's for later).

The new BGs relate to some of the edits, which required some additional locations.

Writing:

I've been doing a lot of revising for this chapter as I work on coding expressions. 

And I added about 1500 words of new content for some short scenarios in the "No LI" route.

I went back through my Patreon posts and figured out that I first drafted Chapter 7 around September 2023 and then did the main revision of it in April 2024. So it's been a *while.* 

Re-reading it now I think it's natural to want to fix it up given that so much is going on in this chapter. 

Notably, this chapter is so long - over 80k with the new content - that I was clearly struggling with writing the same events multiple times. After the third time, rewriting the same events from a different perspective gets so tiring. I think it can be interesting to see how a different character's involvement in an event can alter how things flow. But it is really tedious to write...

So while I didn't copy/paste anything...they did all have pretty similar events through this one particular section. Thus, while coding in expressions I've also stopped to revise some sections to add a little variability in exactly what happens. 

Other Stuff:

Coding sprite expressions, as I've said.

Usually with sprites, I go through and stage all the comings and goings and sprite positions first. When I get those done, I start coding in expressions, starting with the MC, then going through all the characters individually.

I also usually get the menu branching coded first. This is just because it helps break the routes up into sections so I can keep track of it all better.

This time around, I'm fully coding the expressions in the menu - so first I code Wil's menu faces, then everyone else's menu expressions. 

There are enough choices in this chapter that by the time I have all the menu branching coded with expressions, I'll have about 35% of the total expressions coded. So it's a decent chunk of the overall expression work.

So I've gone through Asher and Daaz so far. And started on Noel.

I have the common route menus done too, of course.

Upcoming Weeks:

A couple of things in upcoming weeks:

As mentioned, Chapter 6 public release will be happening on or around Thursday the 26th!

While that is going on, I'll be continuing to work on sprite expressions for Chapter 7. My goal is to get all the menu expressions done this week which will put expressions at about 35% complete. And then I will continue to work on getting those done. 

Probably going to try to keep doing a bit of art every evening to just get some of that squared away early on instead of saving it all until the end.

Chapter 7 is so massive that I really want to buckle down and focus on trying to get it released by early-mid September if possible. That is when a lot of my free time to game dev will go away and I want to get as much work as possible done while I can.

Anyway, that is all for now. I will see you in a couple of weeks!

[mona-risms]

Ok I was thinking about making a whole ass fic about this myself, but seeing your taking Hunter/x requests I thought I’d pitch this to see how you’d imagine it.

I imagined Amab Reader (I was thinking a guy best friend thing for Rumi) but knowing u don’t write men I’ll pitch this as Masc GN.

They grew up with Rumi, trained to be hunters with Rumi and eventually became Hunter/x dance/choreographer, that’s been in love with Rumi since the day they met, but they’ve never told her.

Mira and Zoey know but never outed them to Rumi, they go through the movie helping the girls and watching Rumi fall in love with Jinu, and they take it pretty well, it hurts like hell but all that matters is Rumi's happiness.

Eventually we reach the events where the girls find out Rumis a demon and Mira raises her weapon to her and Reader steps in between them and they all argue, basically the conclusion of the argument outing readers feelings for Rumi.

Mira is like “You’re in love with a demon!”

And readers like “No im in love with Rumi” cause it doesn’t matter to them what she is.

And I just imagine them and Rumi leaving, she’s still in love with Jinu so that confession doesn’t magically have them together or even kiss now. But Rumi knows, over everything she’s ever wanted.

She has one person that for sure loves all of her. Even the parts she thought were unlovable because even her aunt and pseudo mother couldn’t love them.

But reader is there no matter what, and just holds her as she breaks down, because of all the awful stuff she’s had to endure with her self image, and knowing now that she doesn’t have to feel the shame her aunt instilled in her

Sincerely the Tsaritsa/Pyro Archon Anon

◆ MAIN COURSE: Rumi x gn!choreographer!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: None. Maybe like one single mention in regards to how these events would be with a fem!reader but otherwise this is strictly gender neutral.

◆ NOTES: HELLO I DID SEE YOUR OTHER REQUEST AND I WAS GONNA WORK ON IT BEFORE KDH TOOK OVER MY BRAIN 😭😭😭 YES YOU CAN BE ☀️🌙 ANON FIRST OF ALL I' SO SORRY I HAVEN'T DONE THE OTHERS YET AND SECOND OF ALL THANK YOU FOR THE CONSIDERATION ☹️

It feels like sacrilege to write something about this because holy fuck this is already DEVASTATING as is 😭😭😭😭😭 WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS but god okay here we go

I'm just going to say to get it out of the way bc this is genuinely a thought I have—if this was a fem!reader thing, it'd be another form of devastation. Gonna state the obvious here but K-Pop idols being gay, while they definitely lean into the queer fanservice and it isn't illegal to be gay in South Korea, still isn't widely socially accepted (there are some exceptions that came out but it is VERY MINIMAL). I don't even think it'd ever register to Rumi that you'd ever be interested unless she had some sort of bi awakening or you flat-out spit it out. And even then considering how she was most likely raised by Celine to be a WEAPON in both demon slaying and idol stuff, along with being taught to hide herself, I don't even know if it'd be an easy thing to swallow. But that's just me okay ANYWAY moving on frfr

You two growing up together as childhood besties and Celine training the both of you since you were young gives you a sort of special bond that not even Zoey or Mira have bc I THINK iicr they had their own lives when they grew up before they got scouted by Celine (how tf would we know when they never go into it right 😓). The two of you have the most experience, and the rapport comes the easiest. But as much as Rumi wanted to tell you about her demonic heritage, Celine has it drilled even deeper than you that she NEEDS to hide it—conceal don't feel Elsa type shit

I think Celine would also entrust watching over Rumi (and the whole of HUNTR/X) to you. Since, yk, there's only three people allowed every generation. This opens up the choreographer role, being able to guide them and their movements while keeping an eye on them when Celine can't. Unfortunately this also does kinda put pressure on you NOT confessing to Rumi bc 1) it'd probably end up as a distraction and 2) you don't wanna bother her about it. So at the VERY LEAST you'd be planning to say something AFTER they get the Golden Honmoon and all the demons are banished. Surely that'd be fine right? WRONG

Ever since the Saja Boys appeared, Rumi's been distant. Not just from Zoey and Mira, but you as well, which is diabolical since the two of you are guaranteed attached to the hip. Said two would be the only people that are well aware of your feelings for Rumi, and by GOD they feel bad for you. They're saying that Rumi's just!! Distracted over the upcoming Idol Awards and the Golden Honmoon!!!!!! But you've been seeing Rumi less and less, she's gradually kinda withdrawn and stopped talking to you about her problems, and she gets all sketchy and weird when you knock on her door or anything

The words slip out of your mouth before you could keep it down, "Did I do something wrong?"

Rumi looked up from her lap, her hands lightly pinching at the edges of her hoodie—your hoodie, you notice, the one you gave her one day but never bothered to ask for back because she said it was comfortable and gave good coverage of her whole body. "No?" Her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and she looked genuinely taken off-guard by your question, "I don't.. think so? Why do you ask? Did something happen?"

You shook your head, "No, just.. you've just been avoiding me recently, so I thought I made you upset somehow."

"You know if I was upset, I'd tell you, right? Been doing that since we were kids," Rumi smiled lightly, "even when it was just me tripping over a rock and wanting those cute little bandaids you had."

At one point, you would've said 'yes' without a single doubt in your mind, but recently you've had doubts. Growing up with her meant you basically knew her better than she even knew herself, after all.

You wanted to say 'no' or 'I don't know'. You wanted to be honest.

"Yeah. I do." That's all that came tumbling out. "But I just..."

Miss you.

You shrugged before sitting down beside her on the bed, bumping your shoulders together as you reassured her, though you didn't know of what, "Don't forget you can come to me anything, yeah? I'm not gonna judge."

She doesn't verbally answer, but she does nod and lean on your side. Though you don't dare to look down at her expression—the nagging feeling of paranoia, mixed with the respect you had for Rumi, was pushing you away from prying—if you did you would've seen regret written all over her face.

It only all makes sense at the Idol Awards, when her identity is revealed and you lot all realise she was trying to work with Jinu (clearly it kinda failed since 🤷‍♀️). It clicks to you Really Easily, why Rumi's been secretive and distant this whole time, and even when it came to other stuff like why she doesn't go to the bathhouse or why she favours things with full coverage and long sleeves even if it was the MIDDLE OF FUCKING JULY!!!! You saw it on the screen, right beside Bobby, and by the time you get to where the girls are, Mira and Zoey have their weapons pointed at Rumi and Rumi is glowing, devastated, inhuman

Do you care though? No duh. So you step in between the two parties with your own weapon. But even you could tell that Mira and Zoey weren't into it at all—they didn't wanna fight Rumi at all

Mira's grip tightened on her glaive, "[Y/N]. Step away."

"No," you raised your own weapon higher, "not before the two of you lower your weapons. What the hell are you doing?"

"What we, as Hunters, are supposed to be doing!" Mira's voice raised, tinged with a mix of disbelief and mournful desperation, "We've been trained under the code of killing all demons for years, and yet she's been working with them the whole time?"

You hear Rumi's voice from behind you, broken, layered with something else, "No, I--"

"Oh, cut the crap! You kept this a secret the entire time and never thought to tell us when we-- when we--" Mira's voice broke off with a strangled rasp, her blade lowering slightly, before she blinked her unshed tears away and held firm with her stance, "If you're not going to help us, then step away."

You didn't move, "No."

"Stop being so stubborn and turn around! Look at her!"

And you did.

You saw her eyes, half a normal brown and half a slitted amber that glowed just like the purple markings that stretched all across her skin. You saw the claws on one of her hands, the way her skin now sported a grey-violet tinge that gradiented into her normal skin colour.

You saw the shame.

Zoey, the quietest you've ever seen her, dematerialised one hand of her knives to tug at Mira's jacket, "Mira, maybe we can just.. leave--"

"You're defending a demon that lied to us--"

"I'm defending someone I love!"

Silence followed, save for the echoes of your raised proclamation that bounced off the walls—

"It doesn't matter what she is, she's still my Rumi. If you really want to kill her, if you really believe that she's nothing but a demon? You'll have to kill me first."

—and the sharp intake of breath from behind you.

If Rumi were to look at the others' faces, she wouldn't see shock—they knew, after all. Instead, their expressions had crumpled. Zoey's hold on her knives had trembled slightly, and Mira had stared at you in a mix of rage and devastation.. before the both of them lowered their arms.

"..Go," you spoke softly, keeping your eyes pinned onto the duo as you spoke to the woman behind you, despite the heartache, "find him. See what went wrong."

Her clawed hand had shakily reached out behind you, but she retracts it in a near-instant with a tiny whimper before running off.

And that's when you slumped to your knees.

"Fuck."

And then the whole thing kinda goes the same way it did until the end of the movie. Rumi's mourning for someone that, by Hunter code, she shouldn't have mourned and yet it's not as if feelings are easy to erase. Not just her feelings for Jinu, but yes her fears, her insecurities, her shame (no thanks to Celine, you find out from her later 😒)

It'd definitely take a while for her to get accustomed to walking around with her markings freely out in the open. This girl's been raised to think she should be ASHAMED of herself for even basically existing, and she has to hide whatever taint her demonic ancestry's given her instead of embracing it. Add onto the fact that she's realised the entire time there was one person who's loved her and WILL love her unconditionally, even when sometimes she still thinks she looks like a monster when her internal doubts get to her? Oh she's crying. And who does she realise holds her every time? You.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head, "Don't ever be sorry. I.. kinda figured it was best to keep it a secret until it faded away."

"Don't say that," she smacked your arm lightly.

"Okay, yeah, I guess it does sound kind of sad."

"'Kind of'?" Rumi scoffed lightly, though her tone held no heat to it, "Mira and Zoey told me that you've been having this crush for years!"

"Since I first saw you, actually."

"That makes it worse! ..For that long?"

"..yeah." You laughed, mostly at yourself as you looked out at the city from her room balcony, "I don't think it'll go away."

Rumi just watched you, watched how the city lights and the iridescent Honmoon twinkled in your eyes. And she tore her eyes away after a while, resulting in the both of you simply.. city-watching amidst the silence.

But she breaks it after a while, her voice a fragile thing, "..Could you.. wait for me?"

"Hm?"

"I think.. I want to recover. Or, well, unlearn Celine's.. way of the Honmoon." She leans her head on your shoulder, her now-iridescent markings casting a soft glow on your skin and her hair loose from her usual braid, "I want to learn how to stop hiding first. Then.. I'll see. Is that.. okay?"

You looped your arm around Rumi to hug her by the side without any hesitation, "Take as much time as you want. I'll be here."

"..Thank you."

"Mm. ..Besides, who else would choreograph your dances? Mira could, sure, but not as good as me."

"Pfft. Ruin the moment, why don't you?"

[dertherck]

Energy Fen!

This was a commission project from a while ago. Last year, probably, but I'm just now getting around to posting it. I absolutely loved working on this, and with this client in particular. They gave some INCREDIBLE art direction for this one, just 10/10 stuff. I highly, highly doubt this project would have come out as cool as it did if it weren't for their guidance.

[rotting-ink]

can i just say that one thing i love abt the Royal route so far, is how well you managed to subtly portray just how detached from the real world the Royal is. like at the start, reading through your blog, and seeing that the Aide and Pasha both consider MC like a lost little lamb, i didn't fully get it? and then i played the demo and oh my god-

the contrast between specifically how the MC views the servants with that Pasha POV at the end. MC thinks they're all grown up, they even make a parallel between themself and Pasha as "sharing a secret" because they both left the house, but the way that they evolved from those experiences is so contrasting it actually gave me whiplash reading it. the way Pavel became so class conscious, realizing and despising the way he and his family would just take take take and meanwhile the MC doesn't even know who their servants are

it's genuinely fascinating to me. like you were right! the Royal has no fucking idea what it is like to live in the "real world". they're stuck inside a little safety bubble, coddled and pampered and told that they don't need to look outside, its ok, just close your eyes and think happy thoughts

makes me wonder if everyone else in the royal family is the same way, or if the Royal had it especially bad by being so sick all the time, treated like a glass doll from the moment they were born. i also love that their ignorance isn't treated as a synonym to innocence. they know violence, they have intrusive thoughts, they grew up surrounded by tragic stories and violent fairy tales and because of that they think they know how the world works

i don't blame the Aide for treating them like a clueless little puppy, honestly i'd do the same

I'M RUNNING LAPS AROUND MY ROOM!!! IM SO GLAD SOMEONE NOTICED!!!

Just wanted to quickly add in, that they have seen some horrible stuff at times, like in the side story with the Goodbye to Pavel. They are quietly reenacting something they accidentally saw, which is a peasant woman being tramped by Pavel's friend's horse, but they are mostly focusing on the senses of it, not the loss of life. The blood, the sound, the crunch, Pavel's hand over their eyes. I wish I could have added a Pavel pov, because while he'd also think back to the experience, he'd think about making sure the Royal stayed on Thunder as he checked on the peasant, watching her slowly die and quietly asking for her name while she struggled to breath, Feeling the moment she did finally bleed out and realising he had no idea how to help. That man's Guilt is endless and so fun to write about. Looking up and seeing one of his friends entertaining the MC and keeping their eyes off the body, while the other friend bemoaned his horse's hooves, caked in gore and the creature itself being spooked. While he himself doesn't even know who to tell that she died.

But it's so so fun. Because the Royal is morbid, even without meaning to. They are surrounded by violence- they can watch the Aide BATTER a man/woman at the resort, but all they think is that they couldn't get their first kiss and then the Aide can basically go down on them. They know violence, they know death, they have experienced pain, their culture has dark fairy tales, and strange history. Their ignorance is built off of never having to step down into someone else's shoes, even when their childhood companion basically "goes missing" and is hidden below stairs. Out of the two, Pavel knows what happened to them and ngl, that's why he remembers them so well.

ANYWAY! So no one in the family is as class conscious as Pavel. He does view his family as parasites who can take and take. Laszlo and Stas is a bit more aware, at least class wise. Laszlo came from a lower noble house in Magyar and his family skirted the class line from time to time. Luckily he's a gem and of course the Tsarina would want to ride him silly. Stas is only aware because he happened to develop a soft spot for a maid. He is curious about her, all things, and so does find out about her life, especially as a Serf. It does upset him, and since bringing her up in life to a Kept Lover, he tries not to think of it too much, given that "she doesn't have to go back there".

It's not that Albina and Abraim aren't aware, they just don't care. Good luck as a Servant with them btw.

The Royal and Tatsiana are... mirrors of each other. Aren't innocent but are ignorant. Focused on other things mostly. Aksana does somewhat know, but deem to give it attention, the world outside of her own. But she is more aware of disabilities, than the rest of the family. The self inflicted pain and hunger she does, but also her fiance. The way he was mocked in fact drew her to him at first, before deciding she wanted him the most. Inga and Kissy seem oblivious, but Inga does see more than she says.

And yes, The Aide does just pat them on the head, knowing they will never see or know as much as The Aide has.

[modmad]

Hi Modmad!

I wanted to send a note as a massive thank you for everything you do and make, your comics have become a massive source of inspiration to me. Its so amazing to see someone else with a sketching type of style in their art, which is really something I dont see a lot out there, so its pretty cool. I've found the courage/confidence to start really delving into chronological art as well and honestly not sure i would've gotten to that point otherwise =]]

I also was also curious if you dont mind, how do you plan the compositions for the comic pages you create, if you do plan them? I've been stuck in the sort of pannel/strip format for a while and they way you break borders with the art itself to create a flow across the page has stuck out as something really unique and cool as a way to bring the characters on the page to life in a very stellar way. I also apologize if this question is on an faq somewhere that I didn't see as well!

All this to say, your stuff is awesome and thank you so much. i have been binge reading and working through it all slowly bc you clearly a mad(mod) genius ahaha

Thank you for your time!

-03

gosh, not sure how to answer it'd take a while. sometimes I put my process on patreon, but I'm not very good at explaining how I do the layout of comics- what I can say is that I've learned by reading lots and lots and LOTS of different kinds of comics. I suggest getting out there and trying new things! comics from different countries and genres from your usual, comics from a different point in time can give a lot of insight too- get out there and start digging!

as for the sketching that's great! I love sketches, and it's really nice to know that people are enjoying mine. let's keep making and learning together!

[comicwritesstuff]

Hi! I saw you writing for Dr House MD so can you write House x reader where reader is in pregnant and go to hospital and bring house food and his team is like "WHAAAAT?!"

Ps sorry if my English is bad.

PPs if you want to read some Dr House stuff go to my profile because I'm writing too :)

HII. Yes I can very much write that for you, amazing idea, and i will def check out your writing. We love supporting other people obsessed with House M.D. I'm keeping it fluffy for this one so i'll get right into it....

It's not everyday that your husband texts and asks you to bring him food. Actually, it has never happened.

Greg likes keeping his personal life a secret from the rest of his co workers. The only person in the hospital who even knows I exist is Wilson, who has helped keep me a secret. It's not my favorite thing being kept a secret, especially being pregnant with his child and feeling overly emotional 24/7. Last night we'd gotten into a small argument about how I feel like he's ashamed of me, he's hidden me for years after all. He even takes off his wedding ring before work...which has always unnerved me a little. So imagine my delight when he texts me and asks to bring him something for lunch.

The car ride there I'm running through scenarios in my head on how it'll go, naturally Greg has told me all about the people he works with, so I know a little of what to expect.

Finally I arrive and park, take a deep breath, and glance at the takeout bag in the passengers seat. I'd stopped on the drive and grabbed it for him. His order, of course, something overly greasy and a mouthful to pronounce. I rub my hand over the curve of my belly, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves running throughout me.

"This is fine," I mutter.

"They're just doctors. Judgmental, overworked doctors with no idea I exist."

Sure it's a little hypocritical being so nervous to be known, when just last night i'd cried to him about how i'm unknown. But i'm growing a child inside of me, cut me some slack.

When I step into the hospital, I get the usual looks. People don't recognize me, obviously, but they sure notice the bump. It still takes some getting used to with all the staring or sympathetic looks. The only sympathetic looks I appreciate are from the other Mom's I see, or else it annoys the hell out of me.

Hospitals have never been easy to navigate, I think they make them 'maze-like' on purpose, but I eventually go in the elevator and walk onto the correct floor. I walk to the diagnostics department, Greg's food in hand while my heart actively attempts to break out of my ribs.

Through the glass I can see him, leaning on his cane and half-harassing some blonde guy...Chase...if I remember right. I'm about ready to psych myself out, but I feel a kick in my stomach. Definitely Gregs kid, kicking me before I can pussy out on something.

So I finally slip inside, the door shutting just loudly enough for three heads to turn, four when Greg turns too.

I give him a look before speaking up. "You gonna take your food before I eat it?"

Greg just grins, the same one I fell in love with. But besides that there is silence. Genuine, stunned silence.

Chase's mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Foreman furrows his eyebrows. "Is she-..."

"Sexy? Very." House interrupts, limping over to me and setting the food on his desk. He smirks and gives me a quick peck on the lips before turning to the team and feigning shock.

"Oh! Oh wow, I mean...you guys didn't know I had a wife? Could've sworn I mentioned it." He says sarcastically. I glance at him with a smile and shake my head.

"Yes, i'm pregnant. It's nice to finally meet you all." I say softly, defusing Greg's usual asshole behavior. I love it, though.

Cameron is just glancing between Greg and I as though she's discovered a whole new species of animal or something. I'll admit, seeing the shock on their faces is something i'll cherish forever.

Finally, Chase's brain seems to collected itself. "But you...how? How have we never met you in the years we've worked here? Is this a prank, did you hire a hooker to do this?"

I might've been offended if his thick Australian accent didn't ease it. But Greg is clearly offended, he scoffs and takes a step towards Chase.

"What can I say, I told you all I'm charming. But if you refer to my wife as a hooker again, I might just have to fire you." He says way to cheerfully.

Chase isn't fazed by the threat, still in shock like the others. He goes to speak up soon but he's cut off by the door opening again. It's Wilson, he peaks his head in and smiles when he sees me.

"Oh! Hi y/n, good to see you. I see the team has finally met you."

Chase, Foreman and Cameron all look completely stunned, utterly speechless. And from the stories Greg has told me, it's rare they don't talk. Wilson dips out, off to actually do his job unlike Greg.

"What the actual hell?" Chase says, so I speak up again.

"Yeah I know this is a lot to take it, but I promise i'm not just some hooker. We're happily married, and i'm pregnant with his kid. He's just hidden it from you all for reasons I still don't quite understand but then again from the shit he tells me...I don't understand how any of you still have jobs." I say simply.

That earns a small laugh of disbelief from Foreman. To which the shock passes by, and Greg and I are bombarded with questions. I answer them all happily though, it's nice to feel seen. Sometime throughout the questions i'd glanced at his hand, and just like magic...his ring was on. I don't know if Greg actually got around to eating his lunch, but something tells me he really only asked to make his pregnant wife feel better...

------

ik this was a shorter one but I like how it came out, hope you guys did too. :)

@cloudofchocolate sorry for being so late to the request...