raven

minors do not interact.

[martinisbleu]

⋆˚࿔ IITE COOL

raven! she / they. 21, scorpio.

masterlist. pet + plant parent. retro aesthetics. collector of random knowledge. baking. psychology. romance. horror. cozy games. hard kinks. will give you pretty rocks. i write dark fanfics please read my warnings!

tag guide: ⋆˚⟢ iite cool (ramble posts), ᯓ raven’s recs! (recommendations/reblogs), ᯓ raven writes! (blurbs, wip, fics)

[martinisbleu]

i’m so tempted to write a dark! peter parker fanfic now after seeing brand new day. even just the trailer like UGH he’s so good

[literary-sparks]

“Why don’t you use ai” idk man beyond the obvious environmental and “this machine causes psychosis and encourages people to kill themselves” thing I think asking the equivalent of a solid D student who is also a pathological liar if they can answer my question/do the work for me seems pretty fucking stupid

[smokedrac2004]

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

reblog if you’re anti censorship and against harassing real people over fictional characters

[wutheringheightsfilm]

every day it just concerns me how little compassion people have. no compassion for those living in the global south. no compassion for immigrants. no compassion for disabled ppl. no compassion for addicts. no compassion for prisoners. no compassion for children. like holy shit ...

[6irlpet]

i dont want a childproofed internet i am almost 30 fucking years old. give your kid an internet safety talk and stop making it the problem of every adult on the planet every time some cryptkeeper legislator gets the brilliant idea (via conservative lobbying) to push through yet another bill gutting our access to free expression + increasing the powers of the surveillance state + lining the pockets of Big Data in the name of Protecting The Kids they wont even feed. this shit is exhausting i can’t believe we’re going to be fighting about it for the rest of my life

[depsidase]

[dandelionsresilience]

Just gonna drop these here as a starting point :)

How to identify, and then deal with, your emotions

Emotional regulation skills

Conflict resolution skills

Creating and enforcing boundaries

Dialectical Behavioural Therapy skills

Emotional intelligence ideals to aim for

Axes of self-care/wellbeing

Self-care self-evaluation (find out where you’re starting)

How to make a self-care checklist

How to start a self-care habit

Reparenting resources

Crash Course Psychology

KhanAcademy: Understanding the Self and Society (some units more relevant than others)

Emotional education activities for children and teens

Social-Emotional Learning activities for kids (information can be adapted for adults)

[radak1985]

I'm reblogging to actually use this

[a-pocket-0f-scarecrows]

Reblogging so I can read all of this; I think I do need to do better with my emotional maturity so this will come in handy.

[greedysadistdaddi]

This blog is anti chatgpt and pro breeding kink without the pregnancy part

[kamoswrld]

routine checkup

content: 18+ mdni! nanami x fem reader, gyno nanami, needy horny ass reader, dub con-ish, corruption kink-ish. smut with a little plot, mentions of masturbation, sex toys. sex in inappropriate places (doctors office), begging, praise, dom-ish nanami, squirting, doggy style, creampie

eli's notes: hi hi hiii, nanami fic incoming, this is 1.8k words, i hope yall like it! i'll be traveling for the holidays so for the next two weeks, i'll be doing reposts but i'll update dirtroad darling soon and release a pilot suguru fic i had in mind hehe thank you again for 4k babies, mwah! fanart cred to @/MyaoRuki

how long had it been since you had a good fuck?

two…three years?

maybe that’s a bit of an over exaggeration but regardless it’d been too long. too many nights in been scrolling through twitter porn or reading smut. too many visits to your local sex shop, too. all the workers knew you. always seeing you come in to buy a new creature cock or some batteries for your vibe, a bottle of your favorite lube or toy cleansers.

though, you were wondering why you were so goddamn horny all the time! it started to become a habit that you couldn’t break, practically fucking yourself with your silicone see through nine inch dildo till you squirted all over your sheets almost every night.

you decided this was a call for the gynecologist. i mean,the vagina doctor has to have all the answers right?

but when you walked in to your appointment that day, you weren’t expecting to be seen by kento nanami.

the hottie gyno you've only seen in passing, greeting you with a soft smile and nod. a man with hands that you've imagined wrapped around your hair, your neck. you've imagined them roaming your body, gripping your hips so tight while he bounced you on his cock that you just know is big by the way he walks.

you expected your sweet old lady, mrs yamanaka that you’ve been seeing since your first physical at 15. but according to miss maki at the front desk, she’s out sick.

so nanami it is.

he steps into the exam room calm, his white coat crisp, black tie straight, stethoscope hanging around his neck, gorgeous blonde hair pushed back just enough to show those sharp brown eyes behind thin glasses.

“miss, i’m doctor nanami. i’ll be handling your visit today.” his voice rolls low and even, no bullshit, straight to the point.

you nod quickly, cheeks already heating up, plush thighs already pressing together under the thin paper gown they gave you.

he flips through your chart, brow furrowing a little. “says here you’re dealing with heightened arousal. totally normal, i'm thinking possible hormonal imbalance. but it's nothing to worry about though. we’ll do a standard pelvic exam, check everything looks healthy, okay? do you have any pain, unusual discharge?”

you shake your head, voice catching. “no pain. just…um…really wet all the time. can’t stop thinking about getting off. it’s driving me nuts.”

he pauses, pen stopping mid-note, then clears his throat. “alright. understood. go ahead and lie back, put your feet in the stirrups. i’ll be as quick as possible.”

you scoot down the table, legs spreading wide, paper crinkling loud under your ass. cool air hits your bare pussy and you bite your lip—already slick, already swollen just from seeing him. he pulls on pink nitrile gloves, snaps them tight at his wrists, and the sound alone makes your clit throb.

he sits on the rolling stool between your thighs, adjusts the light, and you feel his breath ghost over your skin as he leans in.

“relax for me. i'll be gentle, don't worry.” two gloved fingers part your folds slow, spreading you open, exposing every pink inch. you hear him exhale sharp through his nose.

“visually everything appears healthy. swollen labia, significant natural lubrication.” his tone stays flat, professional, but his fingers linger longer than they need to, tracing your entrance gentle. he slides one thick finger inside, slow and careful, curling just a bit to feel around.

your walls clamp down instant, greedy, sucking him deeper. a soft whine slips out your throat before you can stop it.

he freezes. “everything alright?”

you nod too fast. “yeah—yeah, sorry. just sensitive.”

he adds the second finger, stretching you wider, knuckles pressing in till his palm cups your pussy. he pumps once, twice, checking tissue, feeling for any abnormalities, whatever the fuck doctors check. but every drag of those gloves against your g-spot lights you up, hips twitching up for more.

you can’t take it. your hand shoots down without thinking, wrapping around his wrist, holding his fingers buried knuckle-deep inside you. his head snaps up, eyes wide behind the glasses, lips parting in pure shock.

“what are you—”

“please,” you whisper, voice cracking raw. “please don’t stop. it feels so good. i need it.”

his jaw tightens, nostrils flaring. “this isn’t appropriate, miss. i’m your physician—”

“i don’t care,” you cut him off, rolling your hips so his fingers shift inside you. “just—keep going. finger me. make me cum, doctor. i’m so close already.”

you start moving his hand yourself, guiding his wrist in and out, fucking yourself on his fingers while he sits there stunned. the wet squelch fills the quiet room, obscene and loud. your juices coat the blue glove, making it shiny, dripping down his knuckles.

“dear god,” he mutters under his breath, first crack in the mask. his free hand grips the edge of the table hard.

you keep rocking, faster, chasing that burn, eager for release. “more—deeper, doctor nanami, please—”

he tries one last time. “we should stop. this crosses—”

but you clench hard around him, milking his fingers, and his resolve snaps clean in half. a low growl rumbles out his chest. suddenly his hand takes over—no more guiding from you—he thrusts deep and rough, curling both fingers hard against that spongy spot that makes stars burst behind your eyes.

“goddamn it,” he hisses, leaning forward, glasses fogging slightly. “you’re soaked, sweetheart. dripping down my wrist. you really need this bad, don’t you?”

you moan loud, back arching off the table. “yes—fuck, yes—rub my clit too, please—”

his thumb finds your swollen nub instantly, circling fast and firm, slick from your mess. your thighs shaking in the stirrups as he spreads his fingers inside you, scissoring your tight cunt wide, stretching your walls while his thumb grinds relentless.

“look at this pretty pussy sucking me in,” he groans, voice dropping darker. “gonna squirt for me? gonna make a mess all over my hand?”

you sob out a broken “yes doctor—” and he speeds up, pounding into you with his fingers, thumb flicking your clit side to side till the coil snaps.

your orgasm hits viciously—pussy spasming wild, gushing hot and clear in messy spurts that splash his coat sleeve, the table, the floor. he keeps rubbing you through it, drawing every last shake and squirt out your body till you’re limp and gasping.

he pulls his fingers free slowly, pink glove drenched and shiny. stares at the mess you made, chest heaving under the coat. then his eyes lock on yours—dark, hungry, all that professionalism burned away.

“we’re not done,” he says low, standing up, unbuckling his belt with one slick hand. “turn over, darling. i’m fucking you properly now.”

you flip over fast, paper gown ripping at the seams as you scramble onto your hands and knees, ass up high, thighs slick and trembling. the table feels cold against your nipples through the thin fabric, but heat pulses everywhere else—especially between your legs where your pussy still flutters empty, aching for more.

nanami shrugs off the white coat roughly, lets it drop to the floor in a heap. his shirt stretches tight over broad shoulders as he yanks the tie loose, pops the top buttons open. belt clinks loud when he pulls it free, zipper rasping down. you glance back and catch the first glimpse—thick cock springing out heavy and flushed, veins bulging along the shaft, tip already leaking clear beads that drip onto the tile, golden bush trimmed perfectly.

“fuck,” you breathe out shaky, pushing your hips back toward him. “hurry—need you inside me.”

he steps close, one big hand spreading your cheek wide, the other guiding his cockhead through your soaked folds. he drags it slow up and down, coating himself in the mess you made earlier, nudging your clit till you jolt.

“so goddamn wet,” he mutters, voice gravel-rough now. “pretty little pussy is still twitching from squirting all over my hand. how cute”

you whine, the sound high in your throat, trying to sink back onto him, but he holds your hip firmly—teasing, punishing. “beg properly for it, darling.”

“please, doctor nanami—please fuck me. stretch me out with that fat cock. been empty too long.”

that does it. he lines up and thrusts in one brutal push, burying every thick inch to the root. your walls burn sweetly with the sudden fill, stretching wide around his girth, fluttering helpless as he bottoms out. balls press snug against your clit, heavy and hot.

he groans deep, fingers digging bruises into your hips. “so tight—choking me already. such a greedy little cunt. you feel perfect, sweetheart—like a glove.”

then he pulls back slowly, dragging every ridge along your sensitive spots, before slamming forward again. the table rocks under the force, metal legs scraping floor. he sets a punishing rhythm quick—hard, deep strokes that punch the air from your lungs, cockhead kissing your cervix each time.

wet slaps echo filthy in the small room, mixed with your broken moans and his low grunts. “take it, sweetheart. you can do it. take every fucking inch,” he growls, leaning over you, chest pressing to your back. one hand snakes under the gown, cups your tit rough, pinches the nipple till you cry out sharp.

your arms give out fast, face smashing into the padded table, ass still arched high for him. he straightens, both hands gripping your waist now, pounding relentless. sweat beads on his forehead, glasses sliding down his nose, blonde strands sticking messy.

pressure coils brutally again low in your belly, faster this time from how full he keeps you. “gonna cum, nana— fuck, gonna cum on your cock—”

“do it, sweetheart,” he snarls, angling hips sharper, grinding against that spot inside that makes your vision spark white. his thumb finds your clit again, rubs sloppy circles through the slick mess leaking down your thighs. “squirt on me. soak my dick like a good girl.”

the words snap something inside you. orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave— walls clamping viciously around his thrusting cock, milking him hard as you gush hot and messy clear streams spray out around his shaft, splattering his thighs, puddling under your knees on the table. you scream muffled into the padding, body shaking uncontrollably.

he curses loud, pace stuttering. “s-so fucking tight—” three more brutal thrusts and he buries deep, cock pulsing thick ropes of cum straight against your cervix. heat floods you full, spilling hot inside, leaking out around his base as he grinds slow, riding the aftershocks.

you both stay locked like that—panting harshly, sweat cooling on his and your skin. he pulls out gradually, watching his cum drip from your puffy hole, mixing with your own slick on the ruined paper sheet.

he exhales ragged, tucks himself away, but his eyes stay dark on you. “your hormonal issue,” he says quiet, voice still rough, “might need regular treatment. weekly appointments. private ones. routine check ups.”

you push up weakly on your elbows, turning to look at him over your shoulder, pussy still twitching, empty.

“yeah,” you rasp, smirking small. “think i’ll need a lot of hands-on care.”

KAMOSWRLD 2025 ©

masterlist!

tags - @cupidstrace @1stqueenofhell @whimsic @motel6killer

[dumbdxll]

listen, i know my blog has some really hard kinks but i need to make this abundantly clear: everything needs to be consensual. consent is an absolute MUST. it’s not kink without consent. consent and safe words are mandatory if you want to partake in kink. if you partake in kink without consent, you are a dirtbag of a person and i hope you burn in hell.

[rawme-price]

Ghost is ugly, okay? He just is, and it's nothing he really thinks about.

Scruffy hair, scars all over, sunken eyes, and a nose that's been broken too many times. He wasn't exactly good-looking to begin with, but life hasn't been kind to him.

So why the hell do you insist on saying the most embarrassing shit to him while the others are around?? Ghost takes his mask off to eat in the privacy of the locked rec room, everyone gathered around the sofas pushed together, and the first thing you says is "wow. You have beautiful lashes. Our babies would be models."

Ghost blushes, grumbles something into his spoonful of rice, and refuses to meet your eyes lest he actually turn beet red. There was a time he would have been upset. He would have been convinced you were mocking him with all the compliments. Now though? After months of you still telling him his lips are a pretty shade of pink and his hair glitters in the sun? He has no choice but to accept your compliments as actually genuine.

Still, it doesn't stop the embarrassment. If anything, it makes it worse. Because he knows you were actually thinking about what his and your babies would look like, and now he's thinking about it, and Ghost would really prefer not to get a boner in front of his teammates actually.

[martinisbleu]

i need to trace his scars while i’m anxious so bad i NEED that traumatized so bad.

[daciancatamite]

well. at least we'll always have alarming age gaps n problematic power imbalances

[mikanseinic]

“how to recognize AI in fanfic” — hey so this is another not-gentle reminder that AI stole from us. it’s using OUR words and OUR sentences and OUR styles.

writing “long” paragraphs is not a sign of AI — it’s a common narrative choice many writers make both in fanfiction and in traditionally published novels, and AI stole it from us.

using an em dash is not a sign of AI. it’s a stylistic sentence choice that’s been an option in place of commas and semicolons for a very long time, and AI stole it from us.

long sentence structures are not a sign of AI, but are yet another stylistic choice writers often make to create a cadence and tone that mimics the flow of poetry, and AI stole it from us.

“YA narrative breaks”? i don’t even know what the fuck this means, but i can guarantee that AI stole it from us.

italics are once again a stylistic choice that many writers love to use to create emphasis, and it’s a more stylistically acceptable and traditional form of emphasis than bold or underline text. oh, and just to be extra clear: AI STOLE IT FROM US.

stop creating fandom witch hunts over AI when you know fuck all about what it means to sit and write a story, and to spend hours fiddling with sentence structure and dialogue to get the exact right tone. writers will stop writing out of fear that their work “sounds like AI” — IT DOESNT! AI STOLE FROM US! AI SOUNDS LIKE US! — and after a while, all that will be available on AO3 is shitty AI-generated fanfiction.

because yeah, people are going to continue to use AI to write fanfiction whether you “call them out” or not. but making a laughable thread on X that uses asinine criteria is not going to fix that problem. it will just push the real writers out because people will accuse them of using AI when they haven’t, and they will (rightfully) stop writing for spaces that attack them.

anyway. fuck ai.

[reaperexe]

ᝰ.ᐟDomestic dominance headcanons I can’t stop thinking about

Guiding you through streets with a hand on your hips, moving past you in the kitchen by grabbing your hips or waist to nudge you aside. Maybe they're holding a hot pan or plate and will gently guide you aside with a hand on your hips and words like "Careful baby—there we go, good girl".

Make you keep eye contact with them whenever you speak, it could be you rambling on about your day fidgeting with something on your lap and they will guide you to look up with two fingers to your chin, gently coaxing you to meet their eyes, "Hey, eyes on me, pretty".

Always making sure you're fed. You're busy with work, typing one email after the other and they will come up behind you tap on your cheek and press a fruit slice to your lips "Open. Now" and you do because there's no other choice.

It's always the one worded commands that make you lose it.

"Sit."

"Come here."

"Stop."

You don't carry bags or touch door handles around them and if you try, "what did i say?" With that stern look that makes you shut up instantly.

Pulling you between their legs while they're on a call, pressing your back to their chest as their hand travels up your shirt and traces lazy patterns against your stomach while they talk, making you shudder.

You say something snarky, bratty, they just give you the look, lean in and say "That's not how you speak to me. Try again".

Knows when your exhausted and will come shut your laptop for you with a simple "You're done" and drag you off to bed over their shoulder if your unwilling to leave.

Makes sure you're hydrated, if your water bottle is not as empty as they wish they will simply place it in your hands and cross their arms, standing over you. "Drink. Now".

Will always put your seatbelt on for you, usually with a snarky "There. Try not to die".

Always offering you the best seat in the house with a pat on their lap "Come. Sit."

Part 2

[princess-okkotsu2]

In my mind I’m putting him in a crop top and tiny little shorts. As god intended

[cod-bin]

period sex with older bf!simon x chubby!reader (tattoo artist!simon)

part 2 to this (can totally be read as a standalone)

cw: smut, p in v, DADDY KINK MY FAV

it had been a couple days since that first night on his couch, when your body was all wound tight and sore, skin breaking out and cramps threatening but not quite there yet. now, the worst of it had hit—you were on your period, achy and bloated and uncomfortable in ways that made you curl into yourself.

and simon hadn’t left your side once.

you were stretched out across his lap, his hoodie still drowning you, a heating pad tucked against your stomach. he sat there steady beneath you, one hand moving slow circles over your belly, the other stroking your thigh through the fabric.

you shifted, wincing a little, and felt it right away—hard and unyielding under you.

“you’re hard,” you mumbled into his chest, your voice muffled and thick with exhaustion.

his hand stilled. “ignore it.”

“i don’t want to.” your fingers trailed down, brushing against the bulge in his jeans before he caught your wrist, careful but firm.

“sweetheart, you’re bleedin’. you’re hurtin’. i’m not—”

“i want you,” you cut him off, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “even like this. especially like this.”

his jaw flexed, breath leaving him slow and uneven. for a long moment, he just looked at you—like he needed to make sure you weren’t saying it out of guilt, or softness, or anything but wanting. then he pressed his forehead to yours.

“you sure?” he asked, voice low and rough.

you nodded.

he swore under his breath, then kissed you—slow, deep, like he’d been starving for it but too afraid to take. his hands didn’t leave your belly, your hips, your thighs, grounding you, soothing you. when he finally eased you back against the couch, he moved careful, reverent, pausing every time you winced or shifted.

“tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, kissing down your throat, across the sore swell of your chest. “i’ll stop the second you say.”

finally, he was taking the minimal amount of clothing remaining off both of you. you could have whispered his name, desperate, longing and aroused but of course you couldn’t. suddenly, he hears it, it’s small, quiet, but it’s there “daddy” his resolve broke, he let out a deep groan—one that just makes you wonder “is he even real?” (spoiler alert: he’s not). he helplessly pressed himself into you, moving slow, steady, careful, like every inch of you deserved patience.

if it weren’t for your current condition, you’d be more worried about not being able to move tomorrow than normal. considering the situation, you weren’t moving anyways so it didn’t fucking matter. all that matters is how he feels inside you, he’s stretching you so good.

it was almost primal how he pushed into you. but he was so gentle at the same time.

yet it wasn’t frantic. it wasn’t rushed. it was relief—aching and heavy and full of him, his mouth pressing kisses into your hair, his hands stroking your belly like he could ease the cramps right out of you.

by the time you were coming on him, it wasn’t sharp or harsh—it was soft, uncoiling, like your body finally let go of every ache and knot inside you.

“thaaat’s it babygirl. right there yeah? daddy’s making you feel so good huh baby?” he teases.

how do you even answer that? you can’t. all you can do is throw your head back and let him hear how good he makes you feel.

afterward, he stayed wrapped around you, one big hand still protective over your stomach, the other tangled with your fingers. his voice was rough when he spoke, pressed into your hair:

“not gross. never fuckin’ gross babygirl.”

and you believed him.

ENJOY POOKIES