#content which caters specifically to Me

[randomwriteronline]

Skull Kid dreams sometimes.

It's weird, because they don't usually do that.

Usually they dream of black nothingness that smells and sounds of nothing, and when they do dream it feels more like having nightmares even when they aren't necessarily scary, because the things they see hurt, hurt, hurt.

They dream of things that their friends' scents and warmth remind them of.

When they fall asleep sitting on Bird's shoulders they dream that he is taking them on a flight on his bird. They imagine it, all bright colors and wide wings, a long beak cutting through the clouds, eyes dark and beady; they feel the wind rushing across their face and its body, grasping gently at the hair soft like down feathers in which their nose digs deep, soft and shiny and velvety, making their hands slip away as soon as they lay on them. Bird is warm and soft, sitting behind them, and never lets them fall as they fly higher and farther.

When they fall asleep wrapped around Mouse they dream of the little helpful mice, of chasing them around together like cats, of being as tall as them and playing tag under the leaves and mushroom caps, of taking part in festivals and dancing with them. They imagine them differently in each dream, ears larger or smaller, snout longer or shorter, with the only consistent detail remaining the shape of their white and red feather tail - the same that hangs from Mouse's ear.

When they fall asleep against Cave's back they dream of dark, damp places, of long hallways and dry ground that turns humid as they walk deeper into the entrails of the earth. He holds their hand, and his palm feels fluttery, like lightning in the making, like little wings. When they feel the latter they let go hurriedly before it hurts too much; it feels like ferns when they hold it again, and that is much, much better. Being led through the dark feels safe, feels sweet, feels comforting. Cave hums as they go and the caves hum back.

When they fall asleep in Goats' arms they dream from the outside - they see themself, their body, as if it wasn't theirs. They dream of sleeping next to laying goats, or balls of hay, or inside a barn with a strong warm smell while the rain falls in long bead curtains outside. Sometimes Goats is there too, sitting with their head on his thigh, caressing it lightly with his large rough hands, muttering about how the rain isn't letting up in a low tone that feels like a lullaby, with a lone stalk of wheat hanging limply from his lip.

When they fall asleep on Moss they dream of a place overgrown with plants and ghosts talking about him, and they try to imagine them: one has big broad shoulders, another long gentle fingers; one a large proud mane, another strong stubby legs. Sometimes they dream of vast, endless fields. They don't like that. The tree is always in vast, endless fields. The child is always under the tree, in vast, endless fields. They don't want to play bad guys and good guys. They don't want to run. Moss wakes them up just enough to drag them away from there, like he can tell their fear.

When they fall asleep in Bell's grip they dream of a large calm graveyard with bluebells and sweet peas. The gravestones are old and green, shaped like the sorts of canopies that shield cradles; the ground before them is dug into beds, a thousand beds, with each with a kid sleeping soundly. They make their rounds to check on them, make sure they're napping safely, with a strange kind of peace. They know who they are. It's a happy dream, somehow. Maybe it will be okay when they're awake too. Not now. Later. One day.

When they fall asleep next to Gold they dream strangely, with colors flowing out of rabbit burrows like fabric bursting from a box, with shouts of warm bright lava and an orchestra swinging, robes and mermaids singing together. Gold comes to drag them somewhere a little quieter, and they know it's Gold because who else would it be? He indulges them in their dreams: he plays with them and dances with them and helps them navigate through it all, and guides them into sleep within sleep, to get some proper rest.

When they fall asleep near Sea they dream of titanic hands gently cupping around them to make pools of saltwater that they lift a little over the surface of the ocean and then slowly letting it all drain from between enormous fingers, watching them slip through with happy shrieks, and it hurts so much that sometimes it makes them wake up and stay awake for hours on end. So when they feel the water enveloping them they force themself to dream of Sea, of his face and body and voice, of him teaching them to swim; they dream of grabbing his head and hair and kissing him in a way they can't quite describe right there, in the middle of the ocean, holding him as tight as they can, letting him breathe through their mouth when the waves wash over his face to drown him; they dream of laying down with him somewhere on the sand under a tree with large leaves, while the water keeps lapping at their legs in gentle motions, and they hold his hand while he sleeps as he caresses their fingers with his thumb.

When they fall asleep embraced by their friend they force themself to dream from the outside. They force their dreams to be a colorful nothing that smells and sounds like their friend asleep. They have to, because if they don't then they'll dream of their friend as he was: as tall as them, with a sweet smile, with two bright blue eyes so sad and quiet, with two small scarred hands of pale dirty pink so very rough and so very kind.

They cry, when they dream of their friend as he was; they cry like they're dying, like they're being burned. He kisses their mouth and thumbs their tears away slowly as they fall without rest, one after the other, sliding down their cheeks with all the bitter sadness in the world as they look at their friend as he was and ask sobbing quietly, why can't it be like this? Why can't it be like this again? Why can't it be like this anymore? Why can't I have this anymore? They kiss their friend as he once was kindly in their dreams, they kiss his mouth when they manage to stop crying long enough, and they hide their head in his arms because they know they can't do this anymore.

They watch him grow before their eyes, they watch him change until he's become completely unrecognizable, until he's taller, until he's older, until he's grown far too much to not appear so horribly frightening. He kisses their temple with all the love in the world, but it's not the love they miss so much, and they retreat in his chest, deeper, deeper, blindly searching for their friend as he was. His voice as it was reaches them with all the sweetness in the world, enveloping them like a feather mantle, and whispers over and over: I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Sometimes it hurts to wake up and hear his kind voice call them Sweet-heart-that-you-are in a way and tone that is so completely, utterly different from how it used to be, from how they so badly miss, from how they would love to hear again. Sometimes it makes them want to cry, or stop talking forever. Sometimes it makes them want to run as far away as possible, into the darkness.

Eyes and ears have betrayed them enough for them to know that one can only trust the smells.

So they dream from the outside, wrapped around their friend who looks nothing like he used to but is still undoubtedly himself; they dream of sleeping in his embrace somewhere bright and quiet, familiar, with a sweet scent that slowly combs through the feathers they no longer have.

[feisaru]

It needed to be said sometime

[landfilloftrash]

It was much like the human task of sewing. Stitching and mending a mangled piece of abused time like a threadbare blanket only to be dissatisfied and start it all anew.

The tear of reality is not quite a sound that can be heard or felt when you’re inside of it’s life giving touch, but to those cursed, blessed, or born into a existence outside of reality’s all encompassing reach, it echoed against your essence. Rippling and panic inducing, if you’re unprepared for it.

Just like fabric.

Figures then that most mortals call it something along those lines; clothes worn by life, the sash that binds, etc.-- or in human vernacular, as he’d been woefully using all too frequently as of late; the fabric of reality.

When it resounded through the Continuum, everyone had paused. New things always drew attention and curiosity, and the fact none of them had done this brought its own wave of questions. Who did that? Was there a Q that cut themselves off? A mortal species, or even just one of their kind, ascending without Their knowledge and had just tried to change something but caused a wound instead?

But no. It was a mortal. Just a mortal. And the curiosity wore off. Oh it’s just one of them.

He hadn’t exactly, well, hidden the burst of bright and loud anger that had ricocheted violently through his dismay before he suddenly was gone-- the rapid undercurrent of panic hastening his movements through the flurry of breaking time.

Because none of them checked which mortal it had been, and how prone he was to causing changes that would ripple across the entire tapestry and timelines.

And this one had been a huge one. A paradox that had crunched reality into a fine paste, unraveling it until it would be a ball of unusable string, locking him in with the rest of the mortals until it was fixed-- as the future that came after it could not be told, and everything that came before suggested nothing that would lead to this.

The very strings of fabric falling apart at their seams, melting and fracturing in equal hearing-splitting measure, and they dismissed it because it was a mortal.

Sure, it would all be rewritten. All start again. The cosmos would be born again and everything that ever was and ever will be will be stitched into a beautiful masterpiece that They would admire— for as long as it was new and different. Reality would fix itself as it always did when confronted with things that didn’t fit it’s intricate embroidery.

But it would do it in a way that removes the things causing it problems. A method the Continuum adopted from the quilt they could interact with, but never truly be apart of, he could only presume. ‘Get rid of it so it was never wanted.’

Aghck-! Damn. Watch your focus, you forsaken fool.

It was almost funny, the irony of showing this one mortal how the tapestry of life was made, connected through intricate threads that could not be severed without changing the whole picture, and yet he did so, uncaring of the consequences until he got there.

And got there he did.

Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

The initial tear had been by his renowned mortal Jean-Luc Picard, but every tear after that was by Q himself, trying to fix what he’d helped set in motion.

Ticking clocks mocked him.

Every time the clock’s timer ran out, Renée not talked back into doing the mission, or dying in a multitude of ways gone wrong, the Borg assimilated them all-- conquering the human race for the first time, (as they would have been without his warning over centuries later) the 21st century ICE detained Rios out of the mortals reach, Raffi and Seven arrested and detained, Soong gaining too much ground, Picard dying-- every time they failed, he tore out the lining in the tapestry and started again, cursing it all the while.

They always changed slightly. No two tries were exactly the same, so he’d always have to be ready for the minutiae to shift, for different events, but many things stayed firm. Multiple of these rehashes, he’d told Picard exactly what was happening-- no tricks, no playful words, not even a smidgen. But he refused to listen, claiming him to play tricks and this was just that. A trick.

A trick he says! Like the stars weren’t melting outside of this stitch he was making, sealing it every time they got closer to what they needed, and tore it out to start again when the wrong path started to manifest.

Three days. Over, and over, and over again.

Insanity at the very heart of its definition.

But his game was no longer broad strokes of a brush on a canvas— a trial for all of humanity— but the needlepoint accuracy for one being alone. Someone who’s lining touched so many, would need to continue to intertwine carefully with the loved ones of the future past, and would continue to influence the tapestry if he had any damn say in it; and, oh, look at that-! He did. 

He was almost 100% sure that had he been forced to be a mortal again, (not that he’d ever wish that— not even for—- becoming less than and suddenly so, so hindered was…) right this second, right the very nanosecond he was existing in, that he would have become a semi-decent embroiderer.

Just-- get it right, would you? Then we can all call it a day. I’m bleeding all over this from how much I’ve pricked myself on this darn thing.

Occasionally he did have to drop in so things would stay on course, but that was any good director’s job. Let them play this out. Let them play it out over and over until the final cut, until Jean-Luc learned he was worthy. Someone who was not his father, understanding be damned, and worthy— so so worthy— of love. Most of the time, he didn’t— well— have the time to play the dramatic ‘villain’ of their little escapade; his efforts and energy focused on the tear.  Drama was the heart of how he did things, but saying he was ‘a suture in the wound’ wasn’t... quite the exaggeration he could play it off as. His anger had revealed a shade too close to how invested he was. He was running out of threads to pull from his own pattern, his ‘life-blood’, his very own being to stitch into the gaping wound. In addition, all the repeating the exact same times over and over was almost like a motion sickness, a nausea gripping him as the same seconds ticked by— making him ill. A madness creeping into the very essence of his being and his fervor. He could feel it. His chaos no longer just playful— a very real and diseased part of him, now clawing it’s way into his actions and movements. At this point he should just throw in the towel, accept that reality would rewrite all the offending parties out, destroy the Borg, destroy-- but, what did humans call it? Sunk-cost fallacy? He had put too much effort into it. It was tiring. Too much time into it. They were running out of time. He was running out time.

One more time. I’ll be fine. We’ll get it right this time. Heed the stars, Jean-Luc, mon capitaine, this time, they will lead you home.

[clouds-of-wings]

The final light is streaming deep down to where I weep Your face begins to ashen, your mystery to keep

[x | x]

[thunderlina]

In the wake of the TikTok ban and revival as a mouthpiece for fascist propaganda, as well as the downfall of Twitter and Facebook/Facebook-owned platforms to the same evils, I think now is a better time than ever to say LEARN HTML!!! FREE YOURSELVES FROM THE SHACKLES OF MAJOR SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS AND EMBRACE THE INDIE WEB!!!

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And if you can't/don't want to pay for the extra space, sites like File Garden and Catbox let you host files for free that you can easily link into NeoCities pages (I do this to host videos on mine!) (It also lets you share files NeoCities wouldn't let you upload for free anyways, this is how I upload the .zip files for my 3DS themes on my site.)

Don't know how to write HTML/CSS? No problem. W3schools is an invaluable resource with free lessons on HTML, CSS, JavaScript, PHP, and a whole slew of other programming languages, both for web development and otherwise.

Want a more traditional social media experience? SpaceHey is a platform that mimics the experience of 2000s MySpace

Struggling to find independent web pages that cater to your interests via major search engines? I've got you covered. Marginalia and Wiby are search engines that specifically prioritize non-commercial content. Marginalia also has filters that let you search for more specific categories of website, like wikis, blogs, academia, forums, and vintage sites.

Maybe you wanna log off the modern internet landscape altogether and step back into the pre-social media web altogether, well, Protoweb lets you do just that. It's a proxy service for older browsers (or really just any browser that supports HTTP, but that's mostly old browsers now anyways) that lets you visit restored snapshots of vintage websites.

Protoweb has a lot of Geocities content archived, but if you're interested in that you can find even more old Geocities sites over on the Geocities Gallery

And really this is just general tip-of-the-iceberg stuff. If you dig a little deeper you can find loads more interesting stuff out there. The internet doesn't have to be a miserable place full of nothing but doomposting and targeted ads. The first step to making it less miserable is for YOU, yes YOU, to quit spending all your time on it looking at the handful of miserable websites big tech wants you to spend all your time on.

[everylastbird]

It's insane how little the Twitter algorithm gets me when it comes to tgcf lol. Like, please, stop thrusting all the canon purists at me. I'm tired of them and their weird need to constantly bitch about ppl daring to write the characters differently. This is a fandom, bro. Ppl can interpret things differently, and that's okay. It isn't suddenly going to change the books if like, 10 ppl in the fandom sometimes dare to write HC bottoming I promise

[shiny-jr]

- Warning: None really. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.

- Summary: You work a minimum wage job when a fae takes an interest after you jokingly asked him "will you adopt me?"

- Note: I planned for this to be a platonic yandere thing, but really it's only silly thoughts so I don't really plan to continue this unless y'all want. I don't even have a name for it.

Thinking about an AU where...

You were born a regular magicless person in Twisted Wonderland. Which was a travesty, but not too uncommon, as there were plenty of beings in this world that were incapable of magic. It was considered a privilege to be born with such capabilities. A privilege.

Which was likely why the world seemed catered specifically for magic users. Magic users were the cream of the crop, the best of the best. In the social hierarchy, magic users reined on top. That's just how things were. It wasn't discriminatory. It was merely the nature of society. If a company was looking to hire, of course they would inquire if potential employees could use magic. And of course, they were more likely to choose magic users to fill the positions. That explained why you could only find work as a minimum wage telemarketer, but it was better than nothing.

Random numbers generated and numerous attempts, scripted greetings you've said so much you could recite them in your sleep. As soon as you get an answer of "mmmyello?" a casual and exaggerated hello, you go off on the scripted greeting to advertise the product.

Shockingly, the person on the other end doesn't immediately hang up. They merely hum at your words, occasional shifting heard on the other end.

By the tone and voice, you've deduced that it's a rather relaxed guy. A conversation ensues, and although he doesn't sound all that interested in making a purchase, he doesn't get annoyed by your call. In fact, he continues to chat, seemingly amused by you and willing to share details such that he had a son and two others he fondly cared for.

The man, whom referred to himself as Lilia, mentioned he lived in Briar Valley. How odd, as it was common knowledge that the valley didn't have the best connection with technology due to their preference towards magic. He spoke of his well-mannered son and the other two boys he helped raise, one was a loud son of a dentist and the other was a quiet son of longtime family friends. By this time you were imagining an older gentleman with three young boys no older than ten.

He seemed to care so fondly for them that in the middle of the pleasant conversation, you couldn't help but jokingly ask, "Will you adopt me?"

The line was silent and you were mortified as you remembered this was supposed to be business talk, and your calls were likely being recorded. After what must've been shock, he began to laugh on the other end, and you immediately ended the call in your panic.

Why did you say that? You shouldn't have said that– Damn it, right when you were just gonna test the waters to see if he wanted the insurance package! Well, there went your big catch of the day. The rest of the evening was failed attempts, either deadlines or potential customers just hung up as soon as you spoke. Things were looking bleak.

Eventually, not even a week later, you received a letter. A letter, not an email, that was written much like how you expected the contents of a letter from the medieval ages to sound. Starting with: Salutations, Telemarketer–– and after several paragraphs, ending with ––That is why I am now interested in your deal! I will need your assistance, because I have not a single clue about how insurance works.

There was no number, and you couldn't recall the one you had reached him through, so there was no choice but to resort to the old fashioned way. Through letters. Although it would be a hassle and an interaction that would likely last for weeks just for one deal, a customer was a customer, and this would be your first one in so long. However, when you agreed to speak to him, you didn't actually expect him to show up at your doorstep. The voice you recognized, but he was not what you had in mind. He looked to be your age, short with magenta highlights in his black hair and wide red eyes accompanied by a fang-toothed smile. And pointed ears, the sign of fae. Of course he was a fae, that made total sense as to why he spoke as if he were older. He probably was older, much older than you previously thought.

Lilia wore a constant smile, listening but also not listening when you tried your best to explain what insurance was to a fae that had never once needed it.

"Do you get it now...?" You asked finally, after a lengthy explanation to which he barely asked any questions. All he did was nod up and down.

There was a brief pause. "Yesss..." That sounded uncertain, but he didn't appear to care too much as he noticed your bag with only the minimum in it like keys and a thin wallet. Along with the time. "Shouldn't you be on your lunch break now?"

"Yes, but... I don't eat lunch. I'm not hungry." A lie. You were hungry, but it wasn't easy to get lunch on a minimum wage salary alone. You'd eat something for dinner.

Lilia seemed to sense this, somehow detecting your lie. "Hm... Well, I like you. And I'm not about to let a child starve on my watch."

"A child...?" You stared at him incredulously. This fae was practically the same size as you, maybe even shorter. "I'm over––"

"Uh-huh, just nod and come along." He instructed, holding up a finger to gently shush you as he waved you along to follow beside him. "If your age only has two numbers in it, then in my eyes, you're like a toddler."

Lunch was surprisingly nice, as Lilia was quite eccentric but excellent at holding a conversation. He seemed wise and witty, making a great combination. However, you couldn't help but wonder what a fae from Briar Valley was doing here, as it was known that most faes preferred not to leave the valley.

"It's getting late, I do have to be going..." Lilia sighed, before turning to you and his smile softened. "Would you like to see my boys I told you about? It won't take long."

Did he live close by? That was the only plausible explanation you could think of, since Briar Valley was a whole continent away. It only made sense that he lived nearby if he were here now. Maybe he was one of the few fae that chose to leave the valley.

This was quickly disproven when he held your hand and told you to stay still, when it felt like you were hurled through space. A gust of wind slapping your face, your eyes momentarily seeing a kaleidoscope of colors, you felt sick when suddenly your surroundings were darker.

Dark brick walls like black, candles lighting the space, gray stone floors... definitely not the outside of the cafe you were just standing in front of moments ago. Teleporation magic...? He was a fae, and all faes had magic. You only had milliseconds to recover and swallow the rising bile in your throat, as Lilia pulled you into an open space like a courtyard where light filtered in. However, in this space there were training dummies and swords instead of flowers and butterflies.

"Come, come, meet my boys. The ones I've told you about!"

You immediately paled. When you heard boys, you were expecting young children no bigger than half your height. Instead you were met with three towering men with forbidding expressions.

Two of which were dressed in dark metallic armor and lowering sharpened weapons. The one on the left was a bit taller, with green hair and sharp eyes that pierced you like a blade. The one on the right was the shorter of the two, but that didn't make him any less intimidating with his gray hair and aurora eyes on an expression as cold as ice.

And the last, the last was recognizable anywhere. Black robes and majestic black horns like a crown with slitted green eyes that seemed to glow and peer into your very soul. That was the prince of the valley, a fae with unrivaled and frightening levels of magic.

"This is Sebek, Silver, and Malleus. They've so looked forward to meeting you ever since I told them about you after our pleasant telephone chat yesterday!"

[urstruly-ghst]

have you ever tried this one ?! - 3rd years

in which you remember the song 'juno' and start to perform in your bedroom. forgetting you invited someone over.

author's note: (not edited, just thoughts) i promise, im trying to churn the fics. but hehe... i got the idea from my brainrot of crowley bringing your world's music to you.

content: can be read platonic/romantic (leaning on romantic), gn! reader, suggestive (its juno positions, what did u expect ?!)

As you stay in the privacy of your own room, you remember the old playlist Crowley gave you. You roll your eyes, out the of the many ways Crowley can help... He brings you music? He stresses that "It is a good way to connect with your home! And, who knows, this is a key to get you back?"

He said that and still insists he can't find a way. However, one step closer, right? You sigh and look at the limited music that was summoned. Looking at the music choices, you laugh as you saw "Juno." You decide to chime in and remember how you performed it back in your own privacy.

"Have you ever tried this one?" You say in a very flirty tone as you strike a pose, similar to what Sabrina would do in her tour. Mortified, you saw someone at the door.

trey clover

being confident in your own privacy, you dance and be as sensual as you want. usually, you wouldn't. but hey, a bit fun never killed anyone? plus, the position you pulled was fairly tame. it was just you pushing your butt a bit more out there, which may have shown something...

you gasp as you realize trey was there, standing, mortified and red. he looked shocked as the song in the background still played. it came to the part where Sabrina declares she was "so fucking horny." you were still in that specific pose before you stood up apologizing. trey coughed and shook his head, trying to shake off the image of you being that sensual.

"the look in their eyes, oh sevens. and the way that pose with uh.." trey's thoughts grow frantic as he apologized and tried to close the door

"prefect! i'm so sorry! let me just... next time, maybe lock the door? that was.. quite the show." you can basically hear the smirk.

cater diamond

cater was vlogging on the way to the dorm and to your room. he was hearing how you sang from the hall, he was excited to catch you off guard with a video. he giggled at his plan and barged in, but as he barged in, you were posing with that flirty tone cooing out of your mouth.

he nearly dropped his phone and his mouth was agape. your pose was so perfectly tame and lewd, he couldn't help but loose some air. cater tried to cover his eyes and try to laugh it off

"dear sevens, not now. don't let my imagination do the rest!" cater begs in his mind as he tried to grab his phone and shuffle out the door.

"nice voice though, bestie! uhm... maybe learn to lock things? that wasn't really... uhm. ah! let me just edit this, don't worry i won't post it!"

leona kingscholar

leona was annoyed how he had to get out of his nap. however, your dorm was oddly very comfortable, and you invited him over. it won't hurt, right? he stalks the halls, annoyed how you didn't bother to see if he arrived.

hearing your footsteps, he heard some tunes and decided to open the door to your room. leona was about to complain when you both were caught in a stare down of a very explicit pose. you were quiet and tried to make yourself decent before

*slam* leona closed the door. he was appalled and a bit too invested in the pose you just did. his tail was swishing around and he tried to avoid the heat building up, "what a show" he thought

"if you're gonna invite me to do that, wine and dine me first, herbivore. as a prince, i expect better" he teased

vil schoenheit

vil was expecting that you'd remember his promise of pampering. as vil walked to your room, he was wondering why you haven't noticed the way he nagging. vil made sure his voice was heard.

imagine his horror when he bursts the door open and see such a vulgar display of yourself towards him, though he did have to give where credit is due. you performed well and... got the reaction you wanted.

"hmm. not bad, that did get a reaction from me. ah, i got bested once more" vil thought as you scramble to be more decent, vil's glare causing you to hurry up. but that didn't stop the song to continue playing.

"horny? potato, what are these songs? hm, but your performance... i have some strong words" vil said as he listened in, you blush and turned it off.

rook hunt

let's be honest, he was watching the whole performance. your invitation was just a signal of when he will arrive at your door. he notes each note and decided to watch the spectacular performance up close.

as rook bursts through your door, he was blushing at the fact he realized that the innuendos were becoming serious. he was shocked to see you in such a pose. but that pose!

"ah, such perfect angles. if only i could've captured this moment, what a waste!" he thinks as he tries to take in the view of your pose.

"ah! my dear prefect! what a show! and that pose, such grace and vulgarity! and what's this? you are willing to try it?" rook said with so much enthusiasm. you glare.

idia shroud

he was honestly just about to ask something but that question died when he entered the room. he was floored when all you did was something not even his idols would dare to do.

idia didn't know what to do but panic and yelp as you try to calm him down in case he'd faint (he was close to doing so). your pose was now ingrained in his mind, he can't remove how your eyes and...

"oh sevens! oh sevens! that was so?!! oh im... is it obvious?!" idia panics as he pulls down his hoodie before overheating and tripping to the door.

"stupid... you should've locked the door. now i forgot why am i even here and-" idia tried to push his hoodie and hide somewhere

malleus draconia

he was excited to see you as he heard how you were singing and performing, he found the first lyrics odd, but he was strolling with ease. malleus just wanted to check up on you, and the shock he felt when you were posing

at first, he tried to be reasonable. but as his ears cannot deceive him, and his eyes too. he was shocked and speechless and the way you were displayed. you gasp and realize you nearly flashed the strongest one among the student body.

"how do i tell my child of man the implications of their words and actions?" malleus worries as he felt the blush creep in at the awkward situation they were in. he coughed and offered some space as he stood in front of the door

"does that mean... no. but ah, i can't have such feelings just yet. what enchantment has my dear done?" malleus said embarrassed.

lilia vanrouge

lilia was like rook, he saw it from a mile away. however, unlike rook, he was willing to not barge in. lilia calmly stalked you and appeared upside by your door. however, he was shocked and nearly fell at the display.

that pose and flirty tone was enough to cause such scandals. you yelp and try to stand up as quick as you can as lilia giggled at the notion. he went down on the ground and tried to calm your frantic explanations, humming alongside the song. he found it good.

"oh! that is quite a display. hmm, do they know how scandalous they are being right now? and quite the nice melody over something so raunchy." lilia giggled as he smirked as the song played on.

"quite the scandal, dear. keep the door locked next time, fufufufu~ though, i must say, the song is quite a treat. i would love to learn it on my guitar, i can hear that guitar solo after~"

[lurkingshan]

Japanese BL Starter Pack

It’s been awhile since I dropped a rec list, so I am here today to share one that is very near and dear to my heart—a Japanese bl primer for those who are new to the jbl game. I created this for @neuroticbookworm to help her on her journey when she decided she wanted to start getting into Japanese works. The fandom (on Tumblr and generally) tends to focus primarily on Thai shows because they are the easiest to access for international fans, since Thailand is working its way toward world domination via ql media and wants us all to be able to watch. But there is a lot of great stuff to watch beyond the easy access Thai channels, and Japan is the country where this genre originated, so its shows are important for anyone who considers themselves a bl fan. Japan doesn’t cater nearly as much to the international audience so tracking down the shows sometimes takes some ingenuity and can-do spirit, but that’s part of the fun!

And so, the list! Bookworm is about halfway through it and having a ball, so I figured it was time to stop hoarding it and share it with anyone else who would like to dip their toes into jbl and isn’t quite sure where to start. A few notes: 

I am not here to teach you about the deep roots of the jbl genre or give you a primer on yaoi manga. I am by no means an expert and there are other places to find that information. Start here with this great post by @nieves-de-sugui and then maybe wander over to @absolutebl to read up more on the evolution of the genre.

This list is by no means an exhaustive accounting of every important Japanese bl ever made; it is simply a nice sampler platter of the cream of the crop among various styles you will find in jbl. Watching through this whole list will not only expose you to some fantastic shows, but also give you a sense of what makes jbl unique and how the country’s style differs from others, and point you toward the types of jbl you’ll like most (they tend to put shows in pretty specific style and tone lanes and once you find the ones you like there are lots more where that came from). 

If you’re coming to this post as a jbl lover and you don’t see your favorite here, I promise it’s not because I don’t love it very much; I simply had to make some choices to get this down to a reasonable shortlist. Feel free to leave extra recs for others to find! 

I’m putting these in a loose suggested watch order that will take you through the various jbl lanes in a kind of popcorn style, because I always think it’s good to change it up so you don’t get too stuck in one mode, and it works its way up to most of the extremely Japanese stuff (you will know what that means by the time you finish). But do what’s in your heart and change up the order if you want, friends, I am not the boss of you! 

Cherry Magic (Crunchyroll or grey)

gif by @liyazaki

I believe everyone on Tumblr is pretty familiar with this one, which is not a coincidence—this is one of the most accessible jbls. Not in terms of actual access to watch it, mind you (we’ve all jumped through shady internet hoops to watch it) but in terms of its content and style. Cherry Magic is a classic workplace romcom with a magical twist, and it is charming af. It’s a great exemplar of Japan’s light and zippy comedy lane for bl—a lane in which, importantly, the romances stay chaste even when the actual plot is about sex, or lack thereof. My friend @waitmyturtles would kill me if I didn’t make sure you know that Cherry Magic also has a lovely follow up film. And bonus: there is now a Thai remake airing so if you watch the original you can get in on the discussion about the different adaptations between countries. This is pretty easy to find these days in all the usual places, but I strongly recommend watching it here.

Old Fashion Cupcake (Viki)

gif by @liyazaki

Moving on to a slightly more mature workplace romcom. Old Fashion Cupcake, another Tumblr favorite, is an age gap boss-subordinate romance, and it’s both very adult and somehow wholesome af at the same time. Sure, there is a lot of carnal desire going on here, but there is also a lot of wooing via fluffy pancakes. It’s a tight five episodes and a fantastic example of what Japan, with its extreme technical precision in writing, directing, editing, pacing, and acting firing on all cylinders, can do in two hours. There’s not an ounce of flab on this thing and you’ll want to watch it over and over again.

Utsukushii Kare (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Time to get a little weird! Weird is a key feature of Japanese media, and lots of jbls explore unusual relationship dynamics rooted in complex psychology. This is the first show on the list that will likely feel very Japanese if you’re new around here—my advice is to lean into it and finish the show, even if you get uncomfortable along the way. In Japanese media, discomfort always serves a purpose. This is a high school story with a twisted relationship at its center, and I’m not saying any more than that. Don’t spoil yourself and go watch it! This one also comes with two sequels—one short second season and one movie—that continue from the original story. They are less essential but still excellent.

I Cannot Reach You (Netflix)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Next up, another high school tale, but with a totally different vibe. This show is kind of a revelation in its willingness to tell a story about overwhelming desire—including sexual desire—with young protagonists. It’s rooted in a classic but often misunderstood trope, friends to lovers, and takes the angst of it seriously, giving us a low stakes story that feels extremely high stakes to our leads. It’s also gorgeous and uses a classic Japanese visual style (bokeh) that you’ll be dying to learn more about. 

His (Viki)

gif by @gabrielokun

Time for a break from high school, and we’ll sprinkle in a movie for some added flavor. His is a jbl film featuring a second chance romance between a stoic, introverted man who moves to a remote town to start over, and his ex-boyfriend who follows him there unexpectedly, adorable child in tow. Importantly, this movie does not take place in what we often refer to as the “bl bubble” where homophobia doesn’t exist; the leads’ experiences of being gay men in a homophobic society are hugely important to the plot and themes of the story. It’s a beautiful film and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. @bengiyo would surely also like me to tell you that this film follows a brief prequel show called His: I Didn’t Mean to Fall in Love about the characters originally meeting in high school; I do not think it’s really necessary to watch it but completists can start there.

The Pornographer series (Gaga)

By now you should be ready to get into some classic Japanese fucked up psychosexual material, right? Right! The Pornographer series is told in five installments in this order:

The Novelist, a six episode miniseries

Mood Indigo, a six episode prequel series

Spring Life, a 15 minute short

Pornographer: Playback, a two hour film

Spring Life Continued, a 15 minute short

Confused by that distribution model? So say we all; sometimes Japan likes to make us work for it to make sure we really appreciate its many gifts to us. The story across these installments is about a very difficult to love protagonist, what makes him the way he is, and the also-unhinged-but-in-a-different-way man who finally gets through to him. It’s an extremely satisfying love story and one of the best character arcs I have ever seen, full stop. For this one, you’ll want to just pull the word problematic out of your pocket and store it in a drawer; nearly everything that happens in this story is problematic and that’s the point. Lean in! All of these installments except for the film are on Gaga, if you get that far hmu and I will supply you with the final puzzle piece.

Our Dining Table (Gaga)

You could probably use a break after those last two, so it’s time to shift over to a heart-tugging twofer: family trauma mixed with the cutest shit you’ve ever seen. ODT is an example of another classic type of Japanese show: the food drama (you will see the GOAT in this category at the end of this list). In Japanese culture, food is love, and the act of preparing food for your loved ones is a common path to romance. You’ll love this story about an isolated office worker who meets a pair of brothers, learns to cook as a way of connecting with them, and begins to heal from his own trauma as a result. The image above is a scan from the manga, which @troubled-mind curates to make extremely cool comparison sets like this one. Many jbls are faithful adaptations of yaoi manga source material, so it’s good to have a bit of familiarity with them.

Minato’s Laundromat (Gaga)

gif by @liyazaki

Japanese media loves to explore taboo, and often manages to do it in a way that is surprisingly light and chaste. This is an age gap romance between a teenager and his adult neighbor that explores internalized homophobia, emotional repression, and falling in love across seemingly impossible social chasms. It’s also a great example of old school yaoi seme-uke dynamics that still show up across the bl genre. Also, take my advice: end your journey with this one with the first season and just pretend season 2 doesn’t exist.

Eternal Yesterday (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Remember what I said about weird? Time to do that again, but with a heaping dose of grief and pain on top. It’s not a spoiler to tell you this show involves a major character death; a major character death is, in fact, the root of the entire story. This is a magic realist tale of first love turned tragic, and it will hurt and heal you. It is one of my favorite dramas of all time.

Restart After Come Back Home (Gaga)

And now for a break for your poor exhausted brain. This film is basically the jbl version of a Hallmark original movie, about a city boy who goes back home to the country and falls in love with a total sweetheart while working together on a farm. Enjoy it, bestie, you’ve earned it! 

Tokyo in April Is… (Gaga)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

You’ve probably noticed by now that emotional repression and failed communication are big themes in Japanese works. This second chance romance has plenty of both, and it’s a great example of a kind of muted emotional style that Japan does so well, where the surface of the story seems almost placid and calm even as deep emotion roils underneath. This one (and Eternal Yesterday above) are part of a special line up of jbls on Japanese channel MBS called Tonku (Drama) Shower. The shows air one after another in the same time slot on Fridays (in Japan, perhaps Thursdays for you depending on where you live) and you truly never know what you’re gonna get, but they’re all interesting. Warnings on this one for sexual assault and trauma. 

The End of the World With You (Viki)

Time for sexy and weird again, but even more so! This has to be one of the most unique bls ever made; it goes to some truly divine and strange places, and it feels incredibly queer while doing it. Made by the same screenwriter/director of the Pornographer series with a lot of the same sensibilities, but in a more heightened apocalyptic setting. This one has existential angst, a road trip, a redemption tale, and a variety of interesting side characters in the mix.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? (Gaga)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Congratulations, you’ve reached the end of the list and your reward is watching one of the best bls of all time, and a perfect slice of life food drama to boot. WDYEY now has two seasons (along with a couple specials and a movie that fall in between) because the universe clearly loves us. You can now get it on Gaga for easy access but I’m partial to the versions over at @kinounaniresource for better subs. Wherever you watch, settle in to get cozy with Shiro and Kenji and make sure to always eat before you hit play.

[shizucheese]

So about that Dropout Tweet...

There's a common trend in influencer/ content creator apologies, where the person doing the apology will say they are sorry for the harm that they did, claim they are taking ownership of it and using the whole situation to become a better person, etc. etc. Usually in a way that makes it sound suspiciously like it was written by ChatGPT.

And then they'll go on to say something along the lines of "But we've been getting a lot of death threats guys, and that's bad!" As if the fact that they're getting death threats somehow absolves them of at least some of the guilt of whatever it is that made the apology necessary in the first place. As if it means they're the real victims here.

Apparently Dropout decided to just skip the "ChatGPT apology" part and jump straight to the "We're getting physcal and legal threats" part. Followed up with them once again saying they support Palestiniens and ending it with "We reject antisemitism, Islamophobia, and all forms of bigotry, and welcome all to our platform who treat others with respect, empathy, and human dignity."

And they did it on Twitter, and only Twitter. You know, the website that's notoriously overrun by Nazis. Nothing on Tumblr or Instagram, where the original statement that sparked all of this (which has since been taken down) were posted.

@dropoutdottv, @samreich, this is not listening to the Jewish members of your community who are speaking out about antisemitism. This is reinforcing the antisemitism that those Jewish members of the community are speaking out about. Because what this Tweet does is paint everyone who spoke out against the antisemitism in your original post with the same brush as the people who were sending you threats.

Which, let me be clear, they should not have been doing and I wholeheartedly condemn.

But the actions of the people sending you threats of violence and threats of legal action do not invalidate the things being said by the people who haven't threatened you with anything worse than a boycott. I have literally seen people say "the fact that they got threats just proves they were right." Is that the outcome you were trying to achieve with this?

People who did bad things get death threats all the time; refer back to the beginning of this post. Does that make their critics wrong then, too? Or is it only now, when the accusation being made is that a nerdy comedy network beloved by people on the left did an antisemitism?

I honestly can't tell if you have no publicist helping you out with one, a bad publicist that needs to give you your money back, or an evil genius publicist that knew that if you made a post like this one, it would distract from the fact that you're being accused of antisemitism, maybe even act as a dog whistle to to paint anyone who accuses you of being antisemitic of being "Zionists" (meant in the derogatory way, where people claim they're only talking about people who uncritically support the Israeli government and their actions in Gaza, but then in practice will use it against anyone who believes Israel has the right to exist, including those who want a two state solution, whose hearts break for the people in Palestine, and call Netanyahu a fascist and probably want him gone more than even the people calling them "zionists" do). Maybe even make up for all of the subscriptions you're losing over this and even gain a few by catering to the antisemitic leftist crowd.

Is that really the kind of culture you want to cultivate? If not, then do better. Acknowledge the Jewish voices that are speaking out. Listen to them. And do it in a way that doesn't bring up any other marginalized group. Because like...fuck, man, I reject Islamophobia, and all forms of bigotry too. And I'm sorry you guys are receiving threats; that truly does suck and I hope everyone that works for you guys are staying safe.

But you're specifically being accused of antisemitism. Can you really not reject it all on its own without including other forms of bigotry in the same statement?

And do it on a platform that *isn't* run by an infamous antisemitic, and overrun by more antisemitics? (You can turn off comments and reblogs on Tumblr and comments on instagram, in the same way you disabled replies on your Tweet, you know.)

Here, I'll even write the statement for you: "Earlier this week, we made a statement regarding accusations that Dropout was platforming zionists. At the time, we made a statement focusing on our support of the Palestinian people. We stand by this statement. However, we have received feedback from several members of our community that some of the things that we said were inappropriate insensitive to the Jewish people. "Zionist" and "Zionism" mean different things to different people, ranging from "people who support the Israeli government's actions in Gaza" to "people who believe that Israel has a right to exist and the Jewish people have the right to self-determination." We had meant it in the context of the former definition, but we understand that many Jewish people identify with the later, including many people who are disgusted by the Israeli government's actions in Gaza, and we should have been more sensitive to this fact. Additionally, we would like to reiterate that, to our knowledge, nobody who has appeared on Dropout has openly stated support for the Israelie's actions in Gaza, and several of those accused have voiced their support for a free Palestine. We would like to take this moment to remind everyone that just because a person is Jewish, and may have ties to Israel, does not inherently mean they condone the actions of the Israeli government in Gaza, and to suggest otherwise is antisemitic. We at Dropout reject all forms of antisemitism and are committed to providing a safe space to everyone regardless of religion or ethnic background. We apologize if we made the Jewish members of our community feel like that was not the case."

See how easy that was? I feel something like this is the bear minimum, and if you had said the things in the last three paragraphs from the start, you could have avoided having to say everything in the first two paragraphs and the apology at the end.

That's...pretty much everything I have to say on the matter. To anyone reading this: Do not use other Jewish people to silence Jewish voices.

Do not use people of other marginalized groups to silence Jewish voices.

Just...maybe just listen to what we have to say without twisting our words and putting words in our mouths? Maybe?

Thanks for reading.

I'm so tired.

[syluscore]

You Lure Me In

~Captain John Price x fem! Reader~

MY FIRST EVER KO-FI COMMISSION!! This is my 3000 word request option! Please note that this is catered to specific requests made by the buyer: pet names they like, kinks they like, body type specifications, etc.

Word: 3591

Content warnings: age gap (price in late 30s, reader in early 20s), sub and dom dynamics, primal play dynamics, reader being chased through woods, anxious reader, daddy issues, degrading/praise mix, a bit of manipulation, so many feminine pet names, size kink, reader is petite with small breasts, possessiveness, edging, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, p in v sex, mating press, tummy bulge, creampie

!!!!!!GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+! MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!

He stands behind you, the back of your head against his firm chest. You can feel how hard his cock is against your lower back. You don’t have to face him to know all of his attention is focused on you. His presence alone demands obedience and submission, and you’d be a fool to try and repel it.

“Patience…you don’t wanna do anything stupid,” he mumbles darkly into your ear. His calloused hands graze the skin of your exposed arms, causing goosebumps to rise. The roughness of his skin harshly contrasts the gentleness of his touch. His intentions–obvious and impure, down to the very root of them. His fingers trace little circles into your shoulders, a false sense of security, but you know where this will end up. Where it always ends up.

Captain Price leans down, pulling your hair back behind your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it. “Run if you’d like, little bunny. Feeling quite generous, I’ll give you a head start.”

You turn your head and gaze into his blue eyes. That thousand yard stare gone as he focuses on you and only you. You wanna melt beneath the intensity of his stare. It feels like he’s taking you apart with his eyes, breaking you down to the measly atoms that compose the simplest pieces of your being. You want to cower, you want to give yourself over to him, but your fight or flight reflex is kicking in��just as he wants it to, just as he knows it will.

Useless in resisting it, you push yourself off of him and run straight for the pitch black woods ahead. Running is pointless. Hiding is pointless. He’s a professionally trained hunter and killer. He merely likes the chase. He could easily reach you and overpower you in a mere seconds, but he gives you the head start to satisfy the piece of himself that commands him to be a predator hunting his prey.

You’re already stumbling over the brush of the woods, massive roots breaking through the uneven ground, slopping through the mud, and the low hanging branches–all causing you to be hindered. Your heart is in your throat, your lungs feel as if they’re constricting in on themselves, squeezing tightly like a kid’s juice pouch. But deep in your tummy, through the adrenaline and fear, is an excitement growing from the feeling of being his prey.

Your bare legs and arms are being torn up as you run haphazardly through the trees. Only barriers protecting your skin being a tiny sundress and sandals. You may as well be naked at this point, which would really render you useless. That man wouldn’t give you the chance to run if you were naked–pouncing on you immediately, weak to his own animalistic desires.

Your tiny and weak frame is nothing in comparison to his toned and well trained body. You know he has to be hot on your trail already. You’re sweating and tired after barely having run at all, and wherever he is, you know he hasn’t used an ounce of his endless energy. It’s all merely childsplay to him.

You can’t keep your mind from wandering… wandering to what he’ll do to you–what he’ll put you through–when he catches you. Will he punish you? There’s no question on if he’ll hurt you, oh no. You wonder to what extent it’s going to hurt because he loves giving pain, and you love receiving it.

Before your brain can catch up with your body, pain radiates in your limbs and chest. You roll over from your tummy to your back to alleviate the pain, but to no avail. You hit the muddy ground hard, the wind knocked out of your lungs and you struggle to take an adequate breath. 

You cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself. You rub your sore muscles as you focus on catching your breath. You realize you’re sobbing harshly and not at all quietly. 

“Tsk. You make it too easy.” You practically jump out of your skin, digging your nails into the ground beneath you, ready to push yourself up and take off again. But a heavy, dirty boot presses into your chest, trapping you against the ground. You grab his ankle and try to pull him off of you, but the more you struggle, the harder he presses against you. 

He takes a long drag of his cigar before flinging it into the mud behind you. You clench your thighs together as he releases a puff of smoke between the two of you. You’ve always hated smokers, grossed out by it since you were a child, but he somehow makes it hot. Has your pussy throbbing beneath your flimsy little dress that could barely be called that. So thin and short that it was basically a slip.

He removes his boot from your chest and you finally take a deep breath, filling your lungs and alleviating the burning for air within them. Before you have time to blink, he’s straddling your hips. His knees on either side of your hips and his hands wrapped around your wrists and pulling them up above your head, securing you in place. You could try to struggle to get free, but he’s left you very little wiggle room beneath him.

You’re completely and utterly at this mercy, again. A position you’ve found yourself in (happily and willingly) countless times. You trust him even when you shouldn’t. Trust him no matter how much he pushes your limits. You relinquish control to him like you're passing him a piece of gum. Maybe if your daddy had shown you more attention as a child, you wouldn’t beg for Captain Price’s approval and praise like a desperate whore. Maybe. Wouldn’t be out here seeking out the oh so sweet male validation that only an older man can fulfill–that hollowness your dad gave to you from failing to love you properly.

Or maybe it’s entirely biological–primal. The way you yearn for him and the way he needs you with every fiber of his being. Your coupling should’ve never happened. Him in his late 30s, you in your early 20s. An entire relationship built of red flags and toxic dynamics. You wonder if maybe it was the same delicious shade of red as the apple in the garden of Eden. Could Eve have been as helpless to resist it as you are in resisting John?

But God, what you feel for him is raw you’d dare to say it’s even biblical in a sense. Your flesh and his intertwined in some profound way that your bodies were destined and created for. But you were never the religious type–controlled by your sinful ways and desires. Perhaps you’re looking for any reason to explain the way your pussy aches and drenches itself just thinking about this dirty old man. Perhaps he’s the deity you’ve prayed to all along–your very own God in the flesh.

“Look at you. Dirty fucking girl,” He looks over your body, almost like he’s appraising you. His cock somehow grows harder at the sight of you with mud down the front of your white dress, scratches and dirt littering your legs and arms, and dirt across your cheek that you must’ve accidentally spread while wiping away sweat. “Gonna love ruining you.”

Your voices come out barely above a whisper, “Thought I was already ruined.” He groans in response to your words. How broken and little you sound.

“Mm, not enough, sweetheart. Going to destroy you from the inside out. How’s that sound?” You don’t mean to, but you rut your hips up into him in search of friction. It’s instinctive. He knows what he does to you when he speaks to you this way. And he always uses it to his advantage.

“Haven’t even started touching you yet and you’ve already gone dumb. Trained you so well, haven’t I? Yeah…just a dumb little girl who needs me to show her what she needs, is that it?”

He holds your wrists in one of his large hands as the other cups your chin, holding your head in place so you’re forced to stare at him face to face.

“Yes, Captain,” you whisper out before biting your lip, trying to keep little noises from slipping past your lips at his little touches. You feel properly defiled and he hasn’t even really begun his destruction on your body.

He grabs your face, pinching your cheeks together tightly and forcing your mouth open, looking like a fish out of water. “What have I told you about keeping those little noises of yours from me? Wanna hear every pathetic noise that comes from those pretty lips. You haven’t forgotten, have you? Maybe I need to teach you again. Punishment could be very beneficial for a dumb bunny such as yourself.”

He releases your cheeks and you whine out, “Noooooooooo… I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it, wasn’t thinkin’. ‘M sorry,” Your words slur in your needy state. The sound of your own voice has your cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

He chuckles at you meanly. “You never think, sweetheart. All you know how to do is be a whiny little brat, isn’t that right?”

You whine out your objections, causing a smirk to grow on his face as you prove exactly his point. Your eyes meet his and the mean look on his face causes your bottom lip to start trembling.

He leans forward and leaves gentle kisses across your damp cheeks. “That’s why you have me, isn’t it? Need someone to do all the thinking while you sit there lookin’ pretty. Just taking what I give you,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Please,” You whisper out, your hands clinging to his chest. One of his hands caresses your sides appreciatively. The thumb of his free hand wipes up your tears before rubbing your lip, causing you to part them for him.

He slips his thumb into your mouth and your lips immediately suck it in, your tongue swirling around it. The salty taste of your sweat and tears overwhelms your taste buds and causes more wetness to pool in your panties. 

You continue sucking on his thumb, paying no mind to any of his other movements. Your eyes shoot open when his hand starts playing with the waistband of your panties. 

“This where you need me?” his fingers release your waistband and rub over your slit through your panties. “I think so. So wet for me already. Is my girl needy tonight?” You eagerly nod your head and he smiles at you before placing one last gentle kiss to your lips and moving down your body.

He desperately wants to fuck you so hard you can’t tell what hurts and what feels good. Wants to hear you scream and beg for him to stop while ignoring you and going harder. But he sees how sensitive and needy you are tonight. Knows you need extra love and care tonight–and it definitely can’t wait for aftercare. You in need of princess treatment? He’ll malicious compliance his way into getting you to beg him to treat you like nothing more than a slut. Yeah. That’s how he’ll get his way. That’s how he’ll get you exactly where he wants you.

He kisses down your neck, teeth grazing your collarbones and licking your hot skin.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, baby. Love this tiny fucking dress on you. But unfortunately,” he rips your dress entirely down the middle, causing you to gasp out as you gawk at the effortless way he does it, “It’s in my fucking way.”

John stares at your exposed chest, very fucking pleased that you skipped out on the bra today. He looks at you like he wants to eat you alive and you’ve never been more appreciative of the fact your chest is not well endowed–bras not a requirement for dressing yourself.

He doesn’t bother uttering a single word as he brings his mouth to your nipple and immediately starts sucking it into his mouth, dragging his teeth across it and feeling it harden between his lips. He kisses all around your tit and mumbles, “Love these tits.” And his mouth latches onto the other one.

Your back arches off the ground as you moan out. You’re not sure if it’s possible to get any wetter than this, and if he doesn’t touch you where you desperately need him soon, you might just combust. 

“Sir… I… please, I need you.”

“You need me? Thought you already had me, sweetheart. Where do you need me, hm?” He teases you and it has you whining yet again. You hate it, but you can’t help it. Can’t help these atrocious noises that have you wanting to run and hide away forever.

“‘M so wet… want you to play with me. And touch me,” you give him your best puppy dog eyes and he places one final kiss to your nipple before kissing down your stomach. Usually, he’d make you get more specific. He loves getting you all flustered from saying filthy words, but he’s running out of patience and you look so good laid out in the mud.

He places one final kiss above the hem of your underwear before gripping them between his fingers and yanking them down, not even bothering to wait for you to lift your ass up. He’s stronger than you, he doesn’t need your help and he doesn’t care if you get rug burn from the way he ripped them from you. You’re a big girl, you can take it.

“Gonna eat this messy cunt like it’s my last meal. You deserve that, my little bunny girl? Chased you down in the dark, only fair I taste what I caught–what’s rightfully mine.”

“Yes!” You immediately respond to him. Your legs are quivering from how you keep rolling your hips, searching for that sweet friction. “It’s yours. All yours, ‘m all yours.”

He moves his face down between your legs and you feel his facial hair drag across your skin as he leaves sloppy kisses all along your folds. His beard is already getting wet from how obscenely wet you are for him.

When his mouth finally latches around your clit, you let out a sound that’s borderline a scream. You’re immediately grinding on his face. All it takes is a few little licks, kisses, and sucks and your toes are curling, already on the verge of coming. But he pulls away right before you do, kissing your thighs until you come back down from the edge before going back to licking at your cunt. 

And he does it again. And again. And again. He does it until you’re thrashing around in the mud, all your limbs shaking with need, and you’re crying again.

“Please,” you speak out through your tears, “Please let me come. Wanna come so bad. Need it. Need to come–come all over your face. Please make me come.”

He loves hearing you beg, isn’t afraid to let you know this constantly and will do whatever it takes to get you to that begging and pleading mess beneath him. So pleased with what he’s hearing, he doesn’t even think about pulling away. Before you can continue begging, you’re coming on his tongue while screeching out into the night.

Your body trembles with aftershocks and you feel as if you’ve turned into jelly. Your head is completely empty, the only thing you’re aware of is the blood rushing through your body and the post-orgasm exhaustion setting in quickly.

“Oh fuck!” you yell out as he shoves his cock into your still spasming walls, all the way to the hilt. Your eyes open wide and you see a nearly rabid looking John above you. His face and beard are glistening with your arousal and it makes him look all the more feral. Maybe he has gone completely feral, because he doesn’t bother waiting for you to adjust to his size as he starts thrusting inside of you. 

Thankfully, you’re drenched so he moves effortlessly as your walls are already trying to milk his cock for everything he’s got. You’re moaning and mumbling incoherent words as he continues to fuck into you, fast and hard. He bends down and sucks the skin of your neck, his happy trail and pubic hair rub against the sensitive skin of your pussy–your body barely registering the burn from how overly stimulated you already are.

Your ankles lock behind his back, but he isn’t having any of that. He leans back, gripping your calves and forcing your knees to your chest. Your tiny body contorts, bending to his will so easily. 

Your tummy is bulging out around his cock. Every little movement of his cock is outlined on your belly. He bends forward, using his body to help hold your legs in place and one of his hands comes down to your abdomen and presses down on the bulge there.

“Feel that, baby?” He asks through pants and groans. “Feel how this tiny pussy struggles to take my big cock? Look down at it. Look how deep inside of you I am. Rearrange your fucking guts around my cock. Nothing but a tight hole for me to fuck.”

You manage to look between the two of you and he moves his hand so you can see exactly how deep inside of you he is.

“Holy fuck! You’re gonna break me, you’re gonna fucking break me,” you cry out, in desperation or fear, maybe a mixture of both, you don’t really know. You don’t really care as long as he doesn’t stop.

“Feel me in your lungs? Folded in half for me. Being such a good girl, you know that? Taking me so goddamn perfectly, fuck.”

You can tell he’s getting close by the way his thrusts become inconsistent and his groans become more throaty. 

“Come for me, bunny girl. Know you can do it. Know you can give me one more,” he demands as his hand goes down to rub circles on your wet clit. The pleasure, the pressure, it’s all too much. Your body is on fire and you can barely breathe in this position. 

“It’s, fuck, it’s too much. I can’t, I c-,” you pant out brokenly, “Can’t. It hurts! Hurts so fucking good.” Despite your protests, he doesn’t relent and the pressure builds up in your belly. “Oh, god. Oh, ‘m gonna come.”

“Don’t talk to god, talk to me when I’m fucking you. Call out to me when you’re creaming my cock.”

“Captain!” you scream as you do exactly that. You’re letting out inhuman noises as you cream his cock.

“That’s it. Gonna stuff this pussy full of come, just how you fucking love it. Fucking milk this cock, baby. Milk. This. Fucking. Cock.” He practically growls out between harsh thrusts. He buries himself to the hilt and his hips stop their movement as he shoots his come deep inside of your aching and throbbing pussy. Just when you think he’s done, more pours from the tip of his cock and you’re overflowing with his thick seed.

He pulls his still hard cock out of you and shoves his fingers inside of you in its place, almost like he’s plugging his come inside of you. Which he is. He gave that all to you and you’re going to keep it exactly where it belongs.

Your body is a mess, covered in sweat and mud and possibly even a little blood. You lay boneless in the cold mud, unable to muster up any energy to move for several minutes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, bunny girl. Need to clean up your mess.”

You weakly nod as you reach out for him. He grabs your hands and pulls you up so your face is right in front of his softening cock. You start sucking on the base of him, your nose buried in his pubes as you suck the entire length of him clean. You gently lick and kiss his tip before moving to his balls and sucking those clean too.

“Such a good girl for me, doing so well. Took my cock so well and cleanin’ me up like this. Makin’ me so proud.”

You whimper at his words and you pull your mouth away from his pelvis. He brings his face to yours and you start licking his cheeks and lips clean too. You get carried away, sucking on his lips until he opens them so you can suck on his tongue too.

He pulls away and whispers, “That’ll do. Come here.”

You wrap your arms around him as he lifts you up off of the ground, your legs wrapping around him as well. He begins to slowly walk you two back the way you came. His come leaks from your used pussy and trails down the front of his shirt, the feeling occasionally causing you to shiver and cling to him harder.

Your eyes are drooping as you nuzzle your face into his neck, sleep threatening to pull you under.

“Such a sweet girl, playing with me like this.” You hum sleepily in response. “Love when you run from me. You know why?” You shake your head as best as you can in your position, but he understands.

“Because there’s nowhere you could ever hide from me. I’ll chase you to the ends of the Earth and everywhere in between, then back again. I’ll always chase my little bunny girl.”

~masterlist~

consider supporting me on ko-fi

[achilles-rage]

NSFW Alphabet

word count: 2.4k

A/N: thank you anon for suggesting this!! this was lowkey hard at first but i kinda got into it like halfway through and i had so much fun. if anyone wants me to do any other charcters let me know! enjoy<3

warnings: smut (obviously), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ Only

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After sex he helps you clean up, having a shower together most of the time before laying together on the couch/in bed. He might put on a movie on low volume, sometimes talking and other times just enjoying being close to you as you both half pay attention to whatever movie he puts on. Honestly I feel like half the time he's OUT like 10 minutes into the movie though, feeling so relaxed and content with you pressed up against him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: I think he likes his chest the most, but mostly because he's seen how much you like it. It drives him crazy when you run your hands up and down his chest, and it gives him a bit of an ego boost to see you staring so intently at it.

Yours: Tits Eyes<333 He tries to be a gentleman, but this man loves your boobs. He loves when you wear low cut tops, fighting so hard to keep his eyes on your face lol. He also loves watching the way they move as he fucks you, loving to lean down and leave marks all over them. He also loves your hands, loving to kiss and hold them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I mean, he loves cumming on your chest, the thought of it helping push him over the edge. He also loves to cum on your plush thighs when he's not fast enough to pull out, loving how it drips down them and onto the sheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He cannot hold back when you wear your pretty little sundresses. When he sees you walk out in one, his eyes are immediately glued to you. His eyes slowly trail down from your face to your chest, how your tits spill out of the top a bit, then down to the outline of your soft tummy, then down to your exposed legs, your thick thighs. He needs you right then and there. He can't keep his hands off you. He can't help but think about how easy it would be to bend you over, pull your dress up, and have his way with you. It's only a dirty secret because he feels a little bad about it. The weather is warm, and you innocently put the dress on to keep cool, and because you love wearing dresses, but he can't stop his mind from going to how well you would feel wrapped around him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a few girlfriends, and of course a wife, so he knows what he's doing. At the same time, I don't see him as a one night stand type of guy, so most of his experience comes from catering to specific women's wants and needs. I think the first few times you have sex, he's trying to learn what does it for you, but he knows how to read people, so he's quick to learn.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I'm not saying he's vanilla or boring in any way, but I think his favourite is missionary, with your legs wrapped around waist, desperately pulling him closer. He loves to see your face as he fucks you, and loves having access to your tits, so to him, missionary is the most enjoyable. He also loves having one of your legs over his shoulder as he slides into you, loving the way you tilt your head back and whine for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think he's a generally serious guy, which translates into the bedroom. He's a little goofy sometimes, laughing softly and joking around when the moment calls for it, but for the most part, when he wants you, that is the only thing on his mind.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he keeps it trimmed, the carpet matches the drapes. In terms of his partner, he doesn’t really care, but I think he prefers a little effort to keep it at least a little trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think he's pretty intimate overall, lots of i love you’s whispered into your ear and his head buried in your neck to be closer to you. He's not super romantic about sex, as he's not really into the whole candle and rose petal thing, but he would definitely do it on special occasions like anniversaries if you're into it. He’s a busy guy with work and Christopher so when you have sex it's mostly when y'all have a spare minute, meaning he doesn't really have the time to pull out all the stops.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think he's a man that likes to follow a schedule, so I imagine he does it most mornings, unless you're with him and wanna help him out. I think he gets pretty pent up if he goes too long without release, so every morning that you're not with him, he's in the shower looking for a quick release.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Authority: I think he loves to be in charge, loving the way you look up at him with those pretty eyes when he tells you what to do, nodding and being so good for him. He loves that you trust him enough to follow his lead like that, allowing him to do whatever he wants. He loves the shiver that runs down your spine when he lowers his voice, giving you an order, and the way you whine softly when he praises you for it.

Innocence: This and the last one kinda go hand in hand, but I think he loves how you look up at him with your wide eyes, blushing as he whispers something dirty in your ear. I think he'll whisper dirty things in your ear when you're out in public, loving the way your head snaps up, face getting hot. While he doesn't exactly like you being completely innocent, he loves the way you act coy when he whispers in your ear, pretending you don't want him as bad as he wants you. He loves watching you squirm.

Lingerie: This man LOVES seeing you all dressed up for him. He's not picky about colour or style, he just loves seeing you feeling cute for him, the way you walk up to him slowly, hands behind your back as you stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. As much as he would love to rip it off of you, he loves worshipping your body when you're wearing a matching set that you picked out with him in mind. He'll run his hands up your thighs, grabbing your hips tightly as he pulls you closer, looking up at you with a dark look in his eyes. He'll move his hands slowly up your torso, kissing your stomach as he holds your waist, humming softly, wanting to get you all worked up before he finally slides it off your body slowly.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves some good shower sex, maybe a little round two when you get in the shower with him to clean up. You're already in there, so why not? He loves the way you look all relaxed in the shower, closing your eyes as the water runs down your body. He can't help but put his hands on you, pulling you closer, kissing down your neck slowly before turning you around quickly, pushing you against the shower wall to have his way with you.

He also loves taking you on the couch, although it doesn't happen unless you're home alone. Maybe it starts one day with you cuddling on the couch, your hand trailing down his chest to his stomach, going lower as you innocently watch tv, trying not to look at him, fighting back a smile. Next thing you know you're on your knees in front of him, his hands pulling on your hair slowly as you take him in your mouth. It doesn't take him long before he cums, and you're quickly getting up and onto his lap, grinding against him, still fully clothed, as he whines softly, twitching under you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves the idea of being a family, so seeing you fit into his life so easily really gets him going. Seeing you in his kitchen, making dinner for him and Christopher, or seeing you come home with a random piece of decor you saw and thought would look nice in his house. He loves seeing you acting like a part of his family, longing for someone to share a life and grow with.

He also loves when you come workout with him. Maybe he offers to teach you some self defence, explaining how important it is for you to be able to defend yourself. You roll your eyes, but agree, since you know it'll give him peace of mind. The lesson starts off well, but then he notices the way your ass looks in your leggings, the way your thighs move as you punch and duck, and he's a goner. Now he's mostly focused on the way your body is moving, the thing layer of sweat on both of you, the way your breath is becoming heavier. He drags you out of there pretty early into the lesson, taking everything in him not to bring you into the change room and take you right then and there. Safe to say that he invites you to workout with him much more often.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not into age/pet play, and he doesn't really like the idea of gags or blindfolds. I think he would much rather hear you moan for him, and be able to look in your eyes when he's inside of you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he likes receiving better, although he'll never turn down the chance to go down on you.

He loves the way you look up at him through your lashes, closing your lips around him, humming softly as you move. He loves to grip your hair, letting you control the pace, but still helping you move your head slightly with his hand.

He also loves going down on you, kissing up your legs slowly before pulling your body closer to the edge of the bed, before diving in, holding your hips down as you start to squirm.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think it really depends on the day, and the time of day. I think in the morning he's more into slow and sensual, still feeling a little sleepy, but still wanting to see you come apart for him before getting started with the day. At night, he's more into fast and rough, especially if he's had a hard day. We all know this man is a little wary of talking about his feelings, so a lot of the time, he buries his feelings, instead opting to bury himself inside you, forgetting about his problems for a short time.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn't mind them, especially when all that's on his mind is a quick release. He loves going slow, taking his time with you, but sometimes there just isn't time with your busy schedules. If the choice is between a quickie or waiting, he'll choose a quickie every single time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I think he's willing to experiment, although he wouldn't bring up anything too out there to try. If you brought up something to try that he's unfamiliar with, he'll hear you out, and will probably try it once, unless he's completely against the idea. I think he's a bit of a risk taker, but for the most part, he'll stick with what he's comfortable with.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think he's got 2-3 in him, but most of the time it's 1 or 2, about 10-15 minutes each.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think he owns any, he doesn't know much about them so he kinda stays away from them. With that said, he'd definitely be willing to try them on himself or you, if you asked. He wouldn't necessarily seek them out, but he would be open to them if you showed him what they were and how exactly they work prior to using them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man is a fucking TEASE!!! He loves to watch you squirm, trying to act normal as he gives you less than innocent touches, and whispers what he wants to do to you in your ear. Once you finally get him alone he loves using his fingers and his mouth to get you close to the edge before pulling away completely, smirking up at you as you whine and squirm under him. To him, teasing you is one of his favourite games, playing with you until you can't take it anymore, begging him desperately to let you cum.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I think most of the noises he makes are quite grunts and moans in your ear, trying to keep quiet in case someone hears y'all. He loves dirty talk, but he doesn't do it all the time, instead picking and choosing the best time to whisper something in your ear to make you squirm. He loves when you talk dirty to him too, and loves when he has to cover your mouth to muffle your moans when you start getting a little too loud for him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This man is SUPER possessive of you, but he kinda loves seeing how much other people want you, he's a little confused about it. If you're out at a bar and he sees someone checking you out he gets kinda smug about it, knowing that he's the one taking you home tonight. At the same time, he also has to fight the urge from grabbing you and taking you there, right in front of them, showing everyone that you're his. Instead of actually doing that, as much as he wants to, he'll instead opt for coming up behind you, grabbing your hips tightly, kissing your neck softly. He loves watching you melt against his touch, slowly turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, your attention focused only on him as you lean back against his chest, giggling softly because after so many times, you know why he's suddenly being so clingy.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6 inches, average size.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's pretty average, not too high, not too low. He'd never say no if you wanted him, but I think he loves spending time with you almost as much as he loves having sex with you. He's ok with going a few days without sex, but he would also love having sex every day if you wanted to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think he's either up for a while after, somehow feeling more energized than before, or he's really tired and you have about 10 minutes before he's peacefully passed out beside you.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[autistichalsin]

It has come to my attention that some are disappointed with the content I share here. Namely, some are angry that I "push certain views of Halsin" by only reblogging headcanons that agree with my own.

To be clear, I am a Tumblr blog, not a lending library. I am under no obligation to give equal attention to every perspective. I will reblog a headcanon for one of two reasons: 1. I agree with it, 2. I didn't agree with it, but I enjoyed how the author presented it and wanted to share it.

To expect me to reblog posts that do not interest me for either of the above reasons just to give "equal attention" to all interpretations of Halsin is staggeringly entitled. If you want a blog that focuses on every Halsin post equally, make a "the Halsin tag" blog that automatically reblogs every post shared in his tag, or if you can't program, reblog them yourself. I have seen them done for other characters and ships before, and they are always enjoyed by all. I know I would certainly follow and reblog from such a project. But THIS page is not that project. I do NOT love all views of Halsin equally, I don't love all Halsin ships equally, I don't like all Halsin fics equally. I am here to reblog what makes ME happy, and to share the thoughts that make ME happy.

Which brings me to my next point: some are also angry that I write metas only from my own point of view. These metas are a labor of love for me. I enjoy analyzing media, which is why I'm also planning a side project of analyzing some of my favorite TV shows. I am not here to analyze all interpretations of my favorite media, though. I am here to analyze the ones that interest me.

If you would like me to analyze and reach the conclusions you do (such as Halsin being a happy middle aged guy who has no problems of his own, or Halsin being 100% healed from his sexual assault, or Halsin having had no friction at all with his Grove until the day he left with Aradin), I suggest you DM me so we can discuss a commissioner's fee, or perhaps me setting up a Patreon for you to support my work. If you aren't going to be compensating me (which is understandable, these are hard times) then I would ask that you let me enjoy my hobby in peace, and understand that no one is obligated to make content for free that caters specifically to you. Or you could just save us all the trouble and block me so you don't have to see my metas anymore.

But demanding I cater my metas to every viewpoint, that I reblog equally from all points of view, all ships, etc relating to Halsin, is absolutely insane and entitled behavior, and with all the respect these individuals have shown me when making these complaints, I am going to decline at this time. Thanks.

[yumeka-sxf]

I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.

I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!

We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.

Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.

People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.

To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.

And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~

[yandereworlds]

「 INDEX + INTRODUCTION 」

˚₊‧🔪WELCOME TO MY YANDERE BLOG! I mainly make content for my own original characters and occasionally, fandom related stuff. This blog is strictly 16+ and run by two people.

My name is Kiki (She/Her) and I am 18+. I’m the one that mainly provides the art and bots that you’ll find throughout this blog and sometimes, I write headcanons/imagines as well. My writer is Rose (She/Her, 18+) and she’s responsible for writing the fanfictions and some of the drabbles. To make it easy for you to know who's behind each post, you'll see either 'Mun Kiki', 'Mun Rose', or both credited in the tags.

We started this blog because we had numerous ideas for yandere characters. Given my background as an artist and Rose's talent as a writer, it seemed like a natural fit. I'm primarily creating this post to serve as a guide for navigating the blog. I've received numerous asks about accessing the characters' backgrounds, information, as well as questions regarding my bots, projects, commissions, socials, and other related topics. You can use this post as a reference FAQ or as a comprehensive guide to streamline your experience on the blog. 

Find that you enjoy our work? Consider leaving a tip, it’s greatly appreciated and helps the blog. Also, if you’d like to be able to be more involved with our creative process and engage with the community, you can join our Discord server here. 

╰┈➤ ASK RULES - OPEN!

✦ Absolutely no NSFW asks. This blog is 16+ for a reason, so obviously, we will be trashing asks related to sexual topics. 

✦ We’re allowed not to answer certain asks. If you’ve been spamming the same ask and we haven’t responded to it for months, it’s most likely because we aren't comfortable doing so OR we’ve already answered an ask similar to yours.

✦ We will not be answering any asks regarding self-harm, eating disorders, extreme gore, noncon or any topics that could be associated with them. 

✦ Finally, we kindly request your patience. We understand that it may take some time to address each individual ask, as we both have busy lives and there may be periods when we don't post asks for weeks. Please refrain from rushing us, and rest assured, we will eventually get to your ask. 

╰┈➤ YANDERE MASTERLISTS 

Original Yandere Masterlist

Fandom Yandere Masterlist

╰┈➤ CHARACTER AI + JANITOR AI

If you've been following this account for some time, you're likely aware that I frequently share my character bots here. I've received numerous asks about which bots are available and where to find them online. While I plan to compile a list of my bots soon, for now, I'll provide links to both of my accounts for future reference.

It's worth noting that I'm currently on a temporary hiatus from Character AI due to site complications. Consequently, most of my recent bots can be found on Janitor AI, where I'm more active. Before visiting either site, please be aware that Janitor AI is intended for users aged 18 and above, whereas Character AI caters to a younger audience. In other words, minors stay off JanitorAI!

My Character AI profile - 1, 2, 3, 4

My Janitor AI profile (18+) - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Wish to request a bot from me? You can find the information here.

╰┈➤ ART COMMISSION INFO - OPEN

Pretty self explanatory. If you're interested in commissioning artwork from me, simply click the link to access my commission page. Currently, I'm accepting payments through both PayPal and Cashapp. Below is a brief FAQ regarding my commissions. Should you have any further questions, don't hesitate to contact me!

Can you draw my OC with your characters?

✦ Yes, absolutely! Just provide me a reference and what you'd like specifically. We can discuss all the details in DM's.

Can you draw a character from 'this fandom' for me?

✦ I'm completely fine with drawing fandom related content. The only fandoms I will not draw under any circumstance is youtubers, Your Boyfriend, Country Humans, BTD and Killing Stalking. Otherwise, I'm open to whatever.

Can you draw a comic for me?

✦ Yes, but only short comics. You can let me know what you'd like the short comic to be about and all that fun stuff. Just know comics from me will likely be around $20-$40+ dollars depending how detailed and complex you'd like it to be.

[solxamber]

For the Valentine’s Day event

Cater, Romantic, APT. by ROSÉ and Bruno Mars.

Specifically the lyrics

“Kissy face, kissy face sent to your phone, but I'm trying to kiss your lips for real”

Always excited for your content!

And don’t overwork yourself! :D

"Don't you want me like I want you" || Cater Diamond

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: APT. by ROSÉ and Bruno Mars

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 760

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Mutual pining, Friends to Lovers

It starts, like most things with Cater, as a joke.

A playful nudge here, a winking emoji there — an endless game of Are we? Or aren’t we? that neither of you have ever bothered to define.

You’re both out of NRC now, graduated and trying to figure out what adulthood means — which, for you, seems to be juggling work, friendships, and whatever this is with Cater.

It’s never been serious, not really.

Because Cater doesn’t do serious. He’s all smiles and filters and perfectly crafted captions. He’s the kind of person who knows exactly how to flirt without ever letting it get too real, like love is something that only happens on the other side of a camera lens.

But then there’s you.

And, well… you like to push buttons.

It’s a game between you.

A push and pull, a dance along the line of something real—so close to crossing, but never quite.

The stolen moments stretch between you: a lingering touch when you pass him something, a glance that holds too long before one of you looks away. The way your voice gets softer when you say his name, like it’s something precious, something that belongs only to you.

And Cater… Cater tells himself it’s fine.

It’s fine if you never say anything, because he’s good at this. At pretending. At keeping things light and easy, at making sure no one ever sees the part of him that wants.

But sometimes, it gets hard.

Like when you call him late at night, your voice warm and sleepy, saying, “Hey, you’re still up, right?”—and he always is, even when he wasn’t before.

Or when you lean into his space without thinking, close enough that he could just tilt his head and—

But no.

You don’t cross the line.

So he won’t either.

Until one afternoon, when the line between flirting and something more starts to blur.

It’s one of those lazy Sundays — the kind where the sky’s too blue and the breeze too warm to do anything productive. You’re at Cater’s place, sprawled out on his couch, scrolling through your phone while he fiddles with the playlist.

“Hey,” he calls from the other side of the room. “What do you think of this one?”

A sultry beat hums from the speakers — something slow and sweet, a little too romantic for a playlist that's supposedly just background noise.

You raise an eyebrow. “Feeling a bit sappy today, Diamond?”

Cater winks. “What can I say? I’m a man of many layers.”

You roll your eyes but your heart skips a beat — because that’s what he does to you. Makes you laugh, makes you want, makes you wonder if this little game you’re playing is ever going to end.

He flops down next to you, close enough that his thigh brushes against yours. He’s still grinning, but there’s something else in his eyes — a flicker of something that makes your stomach flip.

“You know,” he says, voice light but careful, “for all the kissy face emojis you send me… kinda rude you’ve never actually kissed me.”

Your brain short-circuits.

It’s not like Cater hasn’t said things like this before — he’s always toeing the line, always dangling his words just far enough out of reach that you can’t grab onto them.

But this time feels different.

This time, his voice is a little too soft. His smile is a little too real.

And maybe it’s the playlist or the lazy afternoon sun or the weeks of almost piling up in your chest — but before you can stop yourself, you lean in.

And kiss him.

Not a quick peck. Not a flirty brush of lips.

A kiss. Slow, lingering — the kind that tastes like every unsaid word between you.

For a second, Cater doesn’t move. His brain seems to short-circuit just like yours did, frozen with wide eyes and parted lips.

But then — oh.

Then his hand slides to your waist, his other hand tilting your chin up as he kisses you back, just as slow, just as deep.

And it’s not a joke this time.

When you finally pull away, breathless and a little dizzy, Cater just stares at you.

“Uh,” he says, voice hoarse, “was that… to prove a point or…?”

You burst out laughing, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He’s laughing too, but there’s a softness to it now — a sweetness underneath the usual teasing. His fingers are still resting on your waist, like he’s afraid to let go.

“So…” he starts again, and for once, his voice wavers. “Are we… still just flirting, or…?”

You tilt your head, biting your lip — the same playful glimmer in your eyes. “I don’t know, Diamond. Wanna kiss me again and find out?”

Cater laughs, breathless. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I think so.”

You grin, and it’s the same smile he’s always loved—the one that makes him feel like the world isn’t so scary after all.

And this time, when he leans in, he doesn’t hesitate.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event