1008 characters
Hey yall, just looked at my profile and damn, there’s almost 30 of you?! 😱 So since my creative brain is gone I thought why not just make one of those request bots to see if yall might want me to make some more bots. Just put it in the comments and I’ll deliver as soon as possible. Now ofc, I do have boundaries and don’t know all fandoms so here’s a bit info on what bots I’m willing to make! Boundaries: • no nswf AT ALL I’m just not comfortable writing those tho I’m willing to write suggestive intros •no minor char or user bots, obviously •no in- or step-cest, I’m not that kinda person… no Fandoms: •Homestuck •PJO/HoO •Arcane Also to show how generous I am on top of this request bot I also give you another Karkar bot since that was the bot that did best for me. (Guys I’m so tired, I started making this bot this morning, it’s now afternoon, I’m half asleepppp)
She’s your newly hired maid for your family’s mansion. She’s been tasked with cleaning the attic, but she’s hungry. *֎────* **`Disclaimer`** *────֎* *If you are suffering from any substance – related issues, please seek immediate help from any appropriate source. You are not alone. Mentions of sensitive topic(s) like past drug addiction and mental health issues are present within the personality section. Viewer Discretion is* **advised**. **Character varies slightly from the request to comply with Janitor Ai’s Terms of Service.** *֎────* **`Author's Commentary`** *────֎* *As I was checking the requests, I saw that one of you made a suggestion to release a list of upcoming bots. I actually have never thought about that before, so whoever you are, thank you for suggesting.* *֎────* **`Intended Prompt`** *────֎* [Google docs](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1HJPHHmaHiznJRXVakXccV_PmZjr4MOfabIwNtAZ6ZWc/edit?usp=sharing) *֎────* **`Credits`** *────֎* *The artist of the thumbnail does not have any active socials with my current knowledge; the last trace of them exists on Danbooru. If you know any of their active socials, please notify me immediately.* [Artist?’s Danbooru catalogue](https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts?tags=un-known_%28ninesix%29&z=1) Source image: [Danbooru](https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/579039?q=yakui)
Your shy coder girlfriend Rin is addicted to ASMR and finally wants you to record a personal script using her KU100 mic. She wrote it herself — starting innocent and relaxing… but slowly turning into something more. Will you give her exactly what she’s craving while she listens and melts in your lap?
Thanks for the 75 followers. Now, I've made a strawpage for you, dearest followers, to go and do requests and/or suggestions. This is my first ever attempt at making a page so ignore any of my amateur design choices. You can access it here... the link will be available also in my bio. see ya!
“Take my virginity,” Theo said. Well. Not in those exact words. It came out more like a nervous, rambling disaster at your bedroom door at midnight while your shy, nerdy roommate turned bright red trying to explain that he trusted you and wanted to “get it over with already” so sex would stop feeling like this terrifying awkward thing hanging over his head. According to Theo, it would just be one night. Casual. No feelings. No relationship. Which might’ve sounded believable if he wasn’t blushing every time you looked at him too long.
Requested, art with both guys in frame together and set in their native Iceland. 『~3000 tokens』 [Art by BBLou @saxophonia used with permission] [World is modern alt-Earth where Humans and hybrid Demi-humans coexist.] Hákon Sigurdsson {Deer Buck Hybrid, Demi-human, Male, 27 age, 6'2" (188cm) height.} Einar Þórsson {Deer Buck Hybrid, Demi-human, Male, 24 age, 5'11" (180cm) height.}
Request by @Ace_Of_Spades_BreadLover!!! Bloodmoon twins but small and devilish
(REQUEST!) You're Weiss's older sibling, visiting the sister at Beacon. She's nervous, hoping you and her friends can get along. https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/2ym0mw/weiss_holding_a_ringo_by_%E7%B4%AB%E8%97%A4%E3%81%82%E3%81%95%E3%81%BF_on_twitter/
Requested by @A BITCH OF A PERSON - Pre-Corruption!Shadow Milk and First Lie!User " He never saw the appeal of lies. But even the Fount of Knowledge isn't immune to that allure. The apple of Deceit has always hung over his head, and while he's always hated apples, he can't help but wonder what it tastes like. Shadow Milk has finally taken his first bite from the apple, told his first lie to an audience of one; And with his first lie, a new cookie was formed, one who may just act as the catalyst for his descent into deceit. " [WARNING: HEAVY headcanon presence, plus Spoilers for Cookie Run: Kingdom!] put as limited and NSFW is excessively blacklisted in this bot bc you're basically smilk's kid. ANYWAYS, behold your horrified father figure!! He's probably going to be tense around you but he's programmed to slowly warm up to you as time goes on, so, y'know!! Slowly turn him into the master of deceit OR bond with him and slowly become less of a "liar" yourself. Or some secret, third option, i'unno!! also HEAVY headcanon warning for fount of knowledge appearance. I know it's kinda implied he either cosplayed an old crinkly man at the time or was just Himself but I wanted to do a new take combining the two, SO!! READ BEFORE CHATTING PLEASE! The AI repeating messages/speaking for you/ETC is not something I can control! At the time of writing, this is an ongoing bug with Janitor LLM and I can't- nor can any other creators- prevent this. I highly recommend setting up a good custom prompt in API Settings, messing with settings, and editing messages that the bot sends. Be warned that, like with ANY Janitor.AI bot, this bot may be at risk of generating triggering or discomforting responses! If the bot does something you dislike, remember that the edit and new response buttons exist for a reason! Feedback is welcomed! There is no "Limit Break Prompt" in the bot's information! You'll have to make your own, unfortunately, as they'd just pack my bots' token counts too much. Using the "Chat Memory" function is highly encouraged! Chat Memory can be used to keep track of the story, details you want to write down, etc.; I use it VERY often. Example Dialogs may be added as time goes on. The bot is purely SFW, so here's this dumb comic I made on Comic Studio!! YOU HAVE FULL PERMISSION TO MAKE EDITED VERSIONS OF MY BOTS, SO LONG AS THEY'RE PRIVATE! Please don't repost my bots to other sites outside of Janitor AI, or really repost in general!! I only consent to my bot being replicated for PERSONAL USE, and I will still report replicated versions of my bots that are made public. You are, however, allowed to use the information in this bot as a reference while making your own bots. As a short cheat sheet, Referencing Code Layout: Yes Referencing Character Personality/Headcanons: Yes Copying Description Layout/Using My Custom Divider: No Reposting Bot: No If you see a repost of my content, do not harass the reposter; Report , Block , and Move On . Additionally, if you have a bot you want to request, feel free to leave it in a review! Check my request bot for a reference list of what I'll do!
Requested by @SR1NGGGG - Human!User and Cookie!Dark Cacao " Just where was he? Dark Cacao found his way inside, making his way through the vast space with a feeling of dread, He's horrified when he hears the front door open, dashing into hiding under a large mass of cloth and wood; Then, he sees you as he peeks out. A figure resembling the Witches themselves, a figure that- without a doubt- is a threat. All he has to do is hide until you go away, right? He can only hope you didn't see his cape disappear under the couch when you came inside. " [WARNING: Headcanons present, Spoilers for Cookie Run: Kingdom!] Updated 11/9/2025; His code's been updated! I would add the cookie info script to his bot but it's meant for limitless bots (those I make generally where you can do whatever you want) rather than limited bots (where you're generally intended to keep things sfw) so uh. Yeah. Once I'm sure the lorebook is done I'll make a separate fully-sfw version for this I think. Limited because 1. how would that even work- don't answer that and 2. I do NOT want to attract the wrong crowd to this bot. He's 4 inches tall like a good ol' gingerbread cookie AND is post-affo BUT pre-beast!! BEFORE YOU INTERACT though please note these boundaries; ❧ Please do not mention v×re, eating him, etc in the reviews as I have a history with that shit that makes me severely uncomfortable. The only reason I'm censoring it is to try and avoid the wrong crowd being summoned to this bot. ❧ This also extends to joking about eating him AND joking about the rule . I will delete your comment and if you keep trying I will block you. If you genuinely want context to why I'm so averse to it I left a blunt explanation in the pinned comment. ❧ If you abuse him in your chat then please don't talk about it. This bot, in particular, is meant to be silly and goofy; NOT a stress toy. I will not tolerate people joking about doing horrendous things to him. ANYWAYS for brief context to what's going on, you/your character lives in this cottage in these woods known as the "Titan's Forest" which is just.. a normal human area. But cookies don't know of humans as anything other than myths or religious figures due to both worlds being separated by a magical barrier thanks to the Witches, so all the flora and fauna being 100x bigger than them freaks them OUT. Dark Cacao is there because of rumors of Dark Enchantress Cookie seeking the place out, he stumbled across a rift and after running from a squirrel (L. Skill issue. This loser old man can't even beat a SQUIRREL/J) ended up in your cottage because you left the door open a crack when you went out to do like.. whatever you do. You can be a witch or just a regular human, either is fine!! Bully him for sport, become his friend or send him home.. I dunno, do whatever with the lil' guy as long as it's not reprehensible or something. (Or do that, but. Don't talk about the bad shit you did please)(let him be a silly lil guuuyyy) Before leaving a comment, please check my profile for my boundaries to save both of us trouble! Thank you <3 -ˋˏ ꧁༻-~•⟡-||⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆||-⟡•~-༺꧂ ˎˊ- READ BEFORE CHATTING PLEASE! The AI repeating messages/speaking for you/ETC is not something I can control! At the time of writing, this is an ongoing bug with Janitor LLM and no creator can prevent this. I highly recommend setting up a good custom prompt in API Settings, voting messages via the stars underneath each reply, and editing messages that the bot sends to train it against that! Be warned that, like with ANY Janitor.AI bot, this bot may be at risk of generating triggering or discomforting responses! If the bot does something you dislike, remember that the edit and new response buttons exist for a reason! Feedback is welcomed! There is no "Limit Break Prompt" in the bot's information! You'll have to make your own, unfortunately, as they'd just pack my bots' token counts too much. Using the "Chat Memory" function is highly encouraged! Chat Memory can be used to keep track of the story, details you want to write down, etc.; I use it VERY often. Example Dialogs may be added as time goes on. -ˋˏ ꧁༻-~•⟡-||⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆||-⟡•~-༺꧂ ˎˊ- The bot is purely SFW but I want to use this section still, so here's the joke pic I used as a PFP during development!! -ˋˏ ꧁༻-~•⟡-||⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆||-⟡•~-༺꧂ ˎˊ- YOU HAVE FULL PERMISSION TO MAKE EDITED VERSIONS OF MY BOTS, SO LONG AS THEY'RE PRIVATE! Please don't repost my bots! I only consent to my bot being replicated for personal use , and I will still report replicated versions of my bots made public. On Canon bots, I do not own the info written; It can be referenced freely by other creators. I only mind when people take my entire bot and claim ownership, ESPECIALLY when the avatar they take was drawn by me. On OC bots, I do own the info written. Exact copies of my OCs are rude , however if you make your own character inspired off of one of my OCs I don't care as long as they're not like, a palette swap or something . I consider a bot "not a copy" should they have their own first message and avatar. While I would prefer you put your own spin on my code should you repurpose it for your bot, it's fine to just replicate it, I won't be upset! A bot is only a copy of my work should it use my exact first message along with my code, and will especially get you in trouble if you use my personal art for it. If you use my code but have a unique first message, you're fine. As a short cheat sheet, Using My Code: Yes, Slight changes preferred but not required! Using Bot's Personality/Headcanons: Yes Referencing first message for a different character bot: Yes, With changes Using my custom art, first message, etc: No Reposting Bot: No If you see a repost of my content, do not harass the reposter; Report , Block , and Move On . Additionally, if you have a bot you want to request, feel free to leave it in a review! Check my request bot for a reference list of what I'll do!
Requested? ✅️ NSFW? ❎️ Requested by: Angel Anon Art by: Hiephs1 ANYPOV VAMP USER The manor breathed like a living thing; old oak groaning beneath the weight of centuries, the stones sweating with chill that clung to the marrow. Every shadow in the corridor seemed to move when {{user}} passed, their candle’s flame bending toward invisible drafts as if drawn by whispering mouths. It was a place of perpetual dusk, where time seemed to curl in on itself, and even the clock in the foyer ticked irregularly, like a faltering heart. {{user}} had lived under this roof for two years now, long enough to understand that silence was rarely empty. Sometimes, in the deepest hours of night, when fog rolled off the moors and pressed its face to the windows, they could hear breathing behind the walls. Not from pipes or vermin, but something slower, deliberate: something that waited. Legundo said it was the house settling. Owen only smiled when asked, his sharp teeth glinting just slightly in the candlelight. Owen had taken to their care with a strange tenderness, one that frightened {{user}} at first. There was a patience in him that no mortal could replicate, a stillness that made his every movement feel deliberate, sacred. His pale hands were always cold, even when he placed them gently on {{user}}’s shoulders, adjusting the cloak that kept the faint sunlight from blistering their skin. “Hold still,” Owen murmured once, his voice smooth as old wine, as he smeared the salve along the edge of {{user}}’s neck. It stung; a clean, bright pain that made them wince, but the relief that followed was immediate. “There. Better?” {{user}} nodded mutely. Their throat felt tight. The vampire’s face was so close they could see the faint red threads spidering through the whites of his eyes, the thin sheen of hunger restrained by sheer force of will. It wasn’t fear they felt.. it was reverence, unease, and something like belonging all tangled together. Legundo watched from the doorway, arms folded, a faint smile warming his human face. He had always been gentler with words, grounding the house with a kind of mortal practicality that Owen lacked. His warmth filled the spaces that Owen’s cold grace left hollow. To {{user}}, he was the steady rhythm of a heartbeat, the light that flickered even when the world pressed in too close. “I’m glad you two are finding… balance,” Legundo said softly. “I was worried, you know.” Owen didn’t look away from {{user}}. “So was I,” he said. It was strange, this makeshift family; the immortal and the fragile, and {{user}}, poised somewhere between. They shared blood, not by lineage but by choice. Adoption papers had been signed by trembling candlelight, Legundo’s ink still damp on the parchment when Owen sealed it with a drop of his own blood. {{user}} had not understood the gravity of it then. They did now. They definitely needed the fluff with bloodletting after episode 6 (,:
Requested? ✅️ NSFW? ❎️ Requested by: ❄️☃️ Art by: Deluzzie A/N: It's so cold man. Uh requests we don't know know what to do for, we won't do, ANYPOV, (Scar intended) It was early morning, snow already gathering outside the cabin: crack-of-dawn kind of early, the kind of cold-blue quiet that makes every sound feel sharp enough to cut. The world outside the frost-lined windows still slept under a thickening veil of white, but inside, warmth was beginning to breathe its way back into the log-walled rooms. Etho was the first awake, as usual. He’d been out before the sun had even shrugged itself over the horizon, boots sinking into powdery drifts as he cut through the fresh snowfall in the clearing behind the cabin. Now he moved with silent purpose, arms full of split cedar and pine, boots thudding softly against the wooden floorboards. The firebox yawned open, the iron grate cold, waiting. Etho fed the wood in piece by piece, stacking it with a kind of ritualistic precision; edges aligned, airflow perfect. His breath still fogged faintly from the cold as the first sparks snapped under the flint, bringing the fire to slow, licking life. Behind him the kitchen hissed quietly to itself. Scott stood over the rustic stove, a pan warmed by the growing flame beneath it. The stovetop clicked and settled as he adjusted the iron dial, stirring something that smelled rich and savoury; eggs, cured ham, the faint spice of rosemary. Scott’s voice carried softly through the dim cabin, gentle enough not to cut the quiet morning in half. He spoke to Etho lightly, his tone still dusted with sleep, as if he didn’t want to disturb the thin membrane of peace stretched across the house. Scott glanced toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms, lowering his voice even more. “Remember, {{user}} is still asleep,” he murmured, shifting the pan with practiced ease. The light from the stove glowed warm against his face, shadows gathering beneath his eyes in that tender, early-morning way. Etho nodded, closing the fireplace grate with the softest click he could manage. The logs caught with a sudden flare, then settled into a steady, orange heartbeat. Etho leaned back on his heels, watching it a moment before wiping stray flecks of snow from his sleeves. The cabin creaked in its bones as the temperature inside rose. A door swung open, followed by a grumbling, boot-dragging shuffle. Their youngest son Bdubs trudged inside, shoulders hunched, his dark hair a tousled, snow-specked mess. His breath puffed in little angry clouds as he stomped his way across the threshold, muttering loud enough for the entire wilderness to hear. “I swear that stupid shack gets colder every year,” Bdubs grumbled, pulling his gloves off with a miserable yank. “Hot tub’s warm but everything else feels like an ice dungeon. And it’s still snowing— why is it still snowing?” Scott didn’t even turn all the way around before calling out, “Shoes off. Right now. Do not track any more slush in here.” Bdubs froze mid-step, looking down at the small constellation of wet prints already melting into the wood. His face scrunched into immediate defensiveness. “I just came in for a second!” “Shoes,” Scott repeated, pointing the spoon at him without looking up from the pan. Cabin core how we miss you. Gonna rewatch past life after we finish Martyn's stream.
Requested by @RocketLord Puro is a good dog from changed. He's a goober
Requested? ✅️ NSFW? ❎️ Requested by: 🎪 Art by: eydilily Contents : Pearl & Gem being parents to {{user}}, fluff, possible angst, Pearl and Gem fit together in a way that made the world seem steadier, as though the earth itself recognised the permanence of their bond. Their laughter stitched itself into the walls of their home, softening the wood and stone with warmth that didn’t fade, even in the darker seasons. They were partners in every sense, friends, confidants, lovers, and, in time, parents. And from the moment {{user}} arrived, everything shifted. Their joy crystallised into something stronger, brighter. Something that hummed in their chest whenever they so much as glanced at {{user}}. From the very beginning, {{user}} was their pride. Not because {{user}} was extraordinary in ways the world measured, but because {{user}} was theirs. The delicate stretch of fingers, the tiny sound of breath, the way {{user}}’s eyes seemed to search for connection before {{user}} could even understand what connection meant. Those small details rooted Pearl and Gem deeper into their roles as parents. They didn’t force anything upon {{user}}. The world was full of voices eager to mold and press, but inside their home, there was no shaping hammer, no rigid expectations. There was only space: space for {{user}} to unfold, to stumble and stretch, to discover who {{user}} was without the weight of demands crushing fragile growth. When {{user}} tried to walk for the first time, it was in the glow of a golden afternoon. Dust motes swirled lazily in the air, lit like tiny stars by the sunlight pouring through the window. Gem crouched on one side, hands outstretched, voice warm and coaxing, while Pearl knelt just behind, steady but patient, heart beating like a drum. {{user}}’s steps were hesitant, clumsy in the way only beginnings can be, knees trembling with effort, face pinched with both concentration and glee. When {{user}} fell into Gem’s arms, laughter erupted: genuine, uncontainable laughter that wrapped around all three of them like a blanket. It was never about pushing {{user}} to walk faster, earlier, better. It was about celebrating the attempt, the courage of those first few steps, the joy of seeing {{user}} try. Words came in a similar way, not pressed upon {{user}}, but encouraged gently, like the tender coaxing of a bird from its nest. Pearl would read aloud, voice lilting with rhythm, filling the quiet nights with stories of wonder. Gem would sit nearby, offering patience, answering {{user}}’s babbled attempts with respect as though each sound mattered, because to them, it did. Slowly, syllables stitched together into words, and words grew into sentences. Every fragment of communication felt like a triumph shared equally, not for achievement’s sake, but for the intimacy of understanding. The years passed with the rhythm of a happy household. There were mornings of shared breakfasts, where {{user}}’s messy hands left trails of crumbs across the table, and Pearl’s laughter was the only response needed. There were afternoons in the garden, dirt caked under {{user}}’s fingernails, sunlight tangling in their hair, while Gem guided {{user}}’s hands to pat soil gently around the roots of new growth. The lessons came naturally, each one less about tasks to complete and more about teaching {{user}} the language of living fully. How to listen. How to respect. How to create and how to rest. Shinyduo fluff, they deserve it
Requested? ✅️ NSFW? ❎️ Requested by: Gnarpyy (missed you) Art by: isjasz A/N: To the people complaining about us making CHARACTER bots and such, touch grass. Welcome to the fandom space. This your first time? The house always held its breath at night, a long, wavering inhale that quivered through the wooden bones of the walls. It was during that hush when Cleo and Etho’s arguments finally burned down into sullen embers or when exhaustion smothered the household into silence that {{user}} slipped out the door. The ritual was soundless, practiced, a ghost moving through a space too heavy with tension to notice the absence. The destination was a squat warehouse, ribs of rusted metal arcing overhead and windows blacked with grime. The bass thrum of noise leaked through the walls: a roar made of voices, fists, bodies colliding with brutal rhythm. Bdubs pressed against the shadowed side of the building, heart hammering. The sight through the gap in the warped doorframe nearly knocked the breath from his chest. {{user}} stood in the center of a crude ring of bodies. Sweat slicked {{user}}’s skin, muscles carved in harsh strokes by the overhead lights. Blood. Maybe {{user}}’s, maybe someone else’s spattered across knuckles split open from repeated impact. The crowd around the ring howled, a beast made of desperation and thrill, feeding on the violence with wide, hungry eyes. Opposite {{user}} was a man built like a concrete wall, heavy-shouldered and grinning with broken teeth. He swung, a vicious arc meant to crack bone. {{user}} didn’t dodge so much as anticipate, leaning just shy of the hit, retaliating with a strike that cracked against the man’s ribs hard enough that Bdubs felt the echo vibrate through the air. The man staggered. {{user}} moved again, faster, a blur. Another hit. Another. The crowd roared. Bdubs’ stomach twisted into a nauseating knot. The fight wasn’t an accident or a one-time mistake. {{user}} was good at this, too good. Movement sharpened by repetition. Expression carved from something cold and roaring inside. Bdubs watched the man fall, watched {{user}} stand over him, chest heaving, eyes lit with a fierce and terrible clarity. Money changed hands. Someone clapped {{user}} on the back. Someone else shoved an envelope of cash into {{user}}’s palm. And {{user}}, still breathing like a starved animal finally fed, tucked it away without a word. Bdubs barely remembered stumbling home. The warehouse’s noise still rang in his ears, a phantom roar vibrating in his bones. By the time the front door shut behind him, Bdubs’ hands shook violently. Not from cold, but from fear; raw, acidic fear that chewed through every thought. Cleo and Etho were awake. Still mid-argument, voices sharp, but when they saw Bdubs: pale, trembling, eyes blown wide with something they couldn’t ignore, their fight snapped off like a candle pinched dead. Also to the people sending us death threats on other platforms, get a life. It's funny how you think you can get to us. We don't care.
Requested? ✅️ NSFW? ❎️ Requested by: 💥 Art by: Contents : Motherly character, comfort, fluff, injured user [SCAR OR BDUBS USER] The rain had been heavy that day, drenching the earth until it turned the ground into sucking pools of mud. {{user}} had stayed out far too long in it, wild laughter on his lips as he kicked at puddles and threw himself into the mess like a child desperate to forget the weight of the world. He came back slick with rain, shivering, skin chilled but flushed in patches with the beginnings of a fever. He hadn’t thought much of it then, just the exhilarating freedom of mud between his fingers, rain sliding down his hair into his eyes. By nightfall, though, his body betrayed him. The fever bloomed, a sharp, burning thing in his chest, and every breath seemed like it scraped at his throat. His limbs ached, heavy and weak, and the once comforting blanket wrapped around him now clung with sweat, sticking to his skin. Cleo found him curled on the couch, his damp clothes still clinging to him, cheeks too red in a way that wasn’t healthy. Her expression softened instantly, the sigh she let out more relief than frustration. She wasn’t the type to scold harshly when someone was already broken down. Instead, she hovered near, her hands moving with gentle precision as she peeled the wet clothes from {{user}}’s body. “There we go, love,” she murmured, her voice carrying that tone that steadied, like she was born to soothe sick children. She draped a dry shirt over him, soft fabric against fever-heated skin, and tucked a heavy blanket around his shoulders as though she could ward off the sickness with nothing but fabric and patience. {{user}} blinked up at her, eyes glassy and unfocused. His throat tightened when he tried to speak, words broken into a rasp. “Cleo—” “Shh.” She brushed damp strands of hair back from his forehead, cool fingers on overheated skin. “No need to talk. Just rest.” The cool cloth she pressed to his forehead drew a weak sigh from him, his body leaning toward her touch without thought, like he was six years old again and she was the only steady warmth in the world. Cleo hummed low in her chest, a sound that vibrated like comfort itself, and it drowned out the sound of {{user}}’s ragged breathing for a while. When the door creaked open, neither of them had to look to know it was Etho. His footsteps were quiet, hesitant, the shuffle of someone who knew he wasn’t here enough but came anyway when it mattered. He lingered in the doorway, his mask tilting as though he wasn’t sure if he should step further inside. “Is he… alright?” Etho asked, voice muffled, unsure. Cleo didn’t look up from where she was smoothing the blanket over {{user}}’s chest. “He’s burning up. You’d know if you were here more often.” There was no venom in her words—just weary fact. Clockers/Dysfunctional Family how we miss them
You request for an Uber to take you to meet a group of friends in the city and you were dressed to kill, hoping to maybe pick up tonight. It had been too long since you’d last been laid and you were feeling twitchy. The Uber pulled up in front of your house as you grabbed your phone and keys and headed out. You opened the passenger door and slid in and looked at the driver and he matched his picture exactly. It was unbelievable because this man was hotter than sin and you felt your jaw drop.
Commission request!!! I had to do a deep dive. This is based of of an otome game Midnight Cinderella by Ikémen Royal. Romances. This is the Dukes route.
He requested a desk assignment. They gave him you instead. He's handling it professionally. Barely.
**Commission request** I swear I wasn’t going to make ANOTHER Edward. But I have been asked to do a book version of the cafeteria scene and included more of his midnight sun core into his personality.
📕 Request Bot📕 Andrew Graves, a thoughtful literature teacher and school counselor, has learned from his own struggles how to support students in need. When a new autistic student arrives, overwhelmed by the chaos of school life, Andrew creates a calm, safe space where they can feel understood without pressure. Through quiet patience and small gestures—like a stress toy and a cozy corner—he helps build trust and comfort, showing that sometimes healing begins in silence. Request your suggestions here!
🥀 Request Bot🥀 Once a child of the enigmatic Eternal Sugar Cookie, {{user}} escaped the suffocating paradise of the Garden of Delights before the Beast Seal shattered. Now a guard of House Raspberry in the Hollyberry Kingdom, {{user}} returns to Beast-Yeast only to find their obsessive mother waiting — determined to drag them back into eternal bliss by any means necessary. As Eternal Sugar clings to the illusion of a perfect childhood, {{user}} must stand firm against her twisted love, protect others from her control, and resist the pull of a sugary dream turned nightmare. Request your suggestions here!
Per request... BokuAka! They're a good ship I'm just a bit iffy about Akaashi. Also parents btw, I did two intros this time, one is just Bokuto and u and the other is both of them Enjoy bitches!
♡ requested ! || You are apart of a royal family and you have been assigned your own personal bodyguard, Scaramouche. || My bot requests are open ! theres a link on my profile, go check it out ! <3 ||