#intro to me and my mess of a blog

[littlelav107]

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hi, I'm lav! :D she/her, (aego)aroace, zutarian, swiftie, Catholic, and proud Filipino 💜 asks and dm's open for chatting

pshs is so fire !! /pos

NOTE: please don't send fundraisers to me! i dont have money to give, i dont have much reach, and such posts/asks esp. w pictures of death and ruins often lead me to spiral. i promise i do care about all of you! it's just that i cannot give rn :((

sideblog for my in-character gdh avernus and amethyst: @asklavgdavernus

ao3: littlelav

brother often mentioned in posts: one, my only sibling, younger than me

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before proceeding further, always remember that as long as you don't spread hate, you are valid!

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MY GD HUMANIZATIONS

extra stuff about me

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some tags:

#rambling - is for practically all my thoughts

#random af - is it possible to understand these from the outside world? heck if ik

#lav art - is for my art, ofc (i can't guarantee it's good)

#lav pisay - I will be using this one to share some stuff about pisay, who knows, maybe b30 would like to read that

#lav live - livereacting tag

#geometry dash humanized - this small niche of geometry dash personification fans be thriving

#cn29 - about my squish! this is more of a tag for me ngl

#rant and #vent - are often used together, self-explanatory, rants and vents

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edits:

02-03-25 : removed the "will design pinned post someday", added my current list of gd humanizations, added #cn29 to list of tags, added "(aego)" to the aroace, added my ao3

03-31-25 : replaced Amethyst's "has a WIP design" with "has a design, has a place on the avernus blog!"

04-29-25 : replaced everything i said about me in pisay with "pshs is so fire !! /pos", added the brother clarification, added prns, added hyperlink to my ao3

05-30-25 : added definitions for tags #rant, #vent, #random af

06-10-25 : added note to not send fundraisers, reformatted and added hyperlinks for conciseness

06-18-25 : added tag #lav live

[serpaphsical]

HAIKYUU!! DR ! + BETTER CR DR + MODERN BSD AU

☥ —— name: NIKO NAKAHARA

☥ —— age: EIGHTEEN

☥ —— height: 5'7, 180cm

☥ —— mbti: ENFP, 2w3

☥ —— year: 3rd year @/KARASUNO

☥ —— position: WING SPIKER & OUTSIDE HITTER

☥ —— s/o: TOORU OIKAWA ( maybe also considering iwa BUT BESIDES THE POINT )

LORE !

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ grew up in the MIYAGI PREFECTURE. younger brother of CHUUYA NAKAHARA. even when he's standing at only 5’7, he is quite the powerhouse. known for his quick reflexes, insane intuition and percision ( combating tendou’s ). he often is put in to take his team out of tight spots with his precision plays. he was extremely close to both tooru and iwa in early childhood throughout middle school, but ended up falling out of contact with them in highschool since niko went to a different school than them.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ...with tensions rising between both karasuno and seijoh, it becomes a bit awkward when tooru's nephew and niko's younger brother end up becoming best friends. therefore, pushing us back together. however, with them being together again niko is forced to revist past feelings for tooru. things especially get bad for him when tooru asks if they can fake date to make his ex jealous. niko only ends up relenting since he has a wedding he needed to bring a plus one to.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ so now, all on his plate is nationals, and fake dating with his childhood crush. oh and he needs still needs to pass his exams. not much going on in his life but much is happening and he's not sure if he's going to survive the fall semester.

TRIVIA THINGS !

with niko being at karasuno, hes grown insanely close to daichi, suga, and asahi

after the practice match with seijoh, he and iwa started talking again as well

tooru's nephew and niko's younger brother 100% planned to parent trap them but didn't know how to do it. at least things somewhat worked out. for them. maybe not so much for niko and tooru

niko's cat is actually like in love with tooru and it pisses him off every single time tooru comes over

is currently living with his older brother chuuya, since his place is closer to karasuno

is planning to go pro when he gets out of highschool!

PLAYLIST !

. . . HIKARI ARE, burnout syndromes

. . . FLY HIGH!, burnout syndromes

. . . DUVET, bôa

. . . FIND YOUR WINGS, tyler, the creator

. . . TREACHEROUS, taylor swift

. . . EVERYBODY TALKS, neon trees

. . . YOU GET ME SO HIGH, neighborhood

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ okayyy gonna so i'm actually gonna post my quirk stuff for my mha dr on the weekend, apush is kicking my ass again, but anyways!!

[nasiens-father]

Tristan fans DO know Tristan, he’s a very well developed character and you thinking that people don’t know that is honestly sad. And I’m sorry that you are so dead focused on cannon that when people want to put a spin on it by making him something different in a FAN FICTION you think people don’t understand him. And I agree with you with people constantly thinking he’s some twink, when he’s not. But at the same time that shouldn’t stop you from loving and understanding a character just because of the fans. Tristan is strong where it matters and is kind, caring and just an amazing character. People do understand that Tristan is more then a twink, at least I certainly do, but just because someone isn’t talking about how well developed he is doesn’t mean they don’t see that. A true fan can see the pros and cons of a character but just because he isn’t talked about that constantly isn’t a bad thing.And I don’t like when Tristan is constantly perceived as a woman either, he’s a strong character with a deep personality. But that doesn’t mean people aren’t allowed to play around with said character. Trust me, the world will keep spinning.

First, just say it without anon it's fine like I don't mind it's cool, second I feel like u took it personally and idk, I think it's obvious that the post was about certain group of people on the Tristan fandom and NOT ALL OF THEM and at the time I didn't thought that I had to really put the "not all of them" cause like it's obvious that not all of them and said group of ppl is on twt that's it, easy peasy, and about the rest of the fans ofc they know him, your whole argument against what i said does not apply to you so there was no reason to yea.

About being dead focused, when in my post i mentioned canon or something hwkskd wait ✋ and I also don't mind that people lives out of canon when did I said that that was bad and again when did I said that ppl that does fanfiction is wrong or something waiiiit✋anddd the way his fandom perceives him doesn't stop me in loving him why would it stop me on loving him and agaaaiiiiin when did I said that it would stop me on loving him, he's my SECOND child I ain't letting go, I will not let him go Nuh uh and to finish all when did I said that ppl should not perceive Tristan like they want to causeee I didn't say that either. And also about being dead focused why were u so mean 💔 I thought we had a family w three kids 💔 so ye no, I think that a dead focused person wouldn't noticed when a character is hypersexualizazed(Jesus gotta take spelling lessons dawwwwg) in the most random situations of said character cause istg I have seen thing.s on where I said I saw them and no ye that that was mean waiit 💔

The whole thing about my post was about Tristan hypersexualization¿ (Idk how to spell that word) And his hyperfemenization¿ (Idk how to spell that word EITHER SJKD) andd if you know me or idk at least had a look to my blog or my art blog I. In fact. Do not follow canon with Tristan. I perceive him as a vkei boy so ye no ye. And I also love when oomfs do their own interpretation of Tristan's character cause they awesome I love em mwah and cause I'm not new to this fandom to know that this fandom lives WITH FANON not with canon, canon is an unknown word to us, and that's it idc at all and whatever someone decides to do w Tristan is none of my business cause im not the Tristan police or something. Wait being the Tristan police will be something like "Wait there, that's actually a color that Tristan would never wear, you will go to prison for that" do u guys think my writing is fire yes or no

And yes the world keeps spinning, it never stopped for me, this is just my blog and I have the right to say anything I want and if you don't like that's fine, ppl don't have to agree w me and I don't have to agree w ppl and ppl don't have to change their opinions on something bc I don't think the same and vice versa, that's all 😽 and tysm for telling your truth 🐬💕

[theproblemcallednight]

hiii lil different today.

do yall want me to create an art tag for my stuff and ramble tag etc? wait polls exist here

if tag options get chosen ill go back and add the tags to my posts

[exasperatedoctopus]

This is my main blog, I will post original thoughts and nonsense only. If, for some reason, you crave to see what I reblog and my attached witticisms that’s over here: @octoreblog

Here’s the tag schéma:

Baffled Octo = Thoughts on various media and life things. I do not promise the quality of them only that they are mine

Octo fic recs = If I read a fic and wanna find it later for re-reading purposes

Octo crafts = I do various craft stuff, embroidery, cross stitch, crochet, etc. Pics and maybe design patterns one day will be here

French Trek = I’m watching the various Star treks in French. Sometimes I have language thoughts. Sometimes I make memes. It’s a tossup

[karlachismylife]

Wrote the intro the day I started this work and decided to leave it since it reflects the shitstorm in my head quite well, eh.

Okay Idk what it is with me today (I actually do know, I'm having a bad fucking night as a consequence of my own actions but I prefer not to think about it), but I just thought about task force 141 and reader that has such a bad withdrawal after their orgasm that they actually cry and not in a fun way (cue my lack of understanding how crying in bed can ever be fun, but i'm not here to kinkshame)

CW: NSFW (so minors and ageless blogs DNI, I'll block you), but there's barely any sex, hurt/comfort, body image issues, low self-esteem, chubby/fat!reader, written with afab!reader in mind (but most parts can be read as gn), potential mental health issues (?), thoughts of selfloathing and selfharm, smoking mentioned once at the end. Very self-indulgent and I'm definitely unwell, so yeah. It's also more focused on reader's inner shitstorm than the guys in many places so idk if this even really is enjoyable...

Starts as a single piece, then splits into individual blurbs/drabbles/oneshots + some polyamory cuz I'm spoiling myself today having done nothing to deserve it, lol.

They vary in size and tone since I've been writing them through several ups and downs in my own mental state, so please don't take this as a sign of which characher/combo is my favourite. I'm greedy, I like everything.

This is unfair.

Like, you just had wonderful sex, probably came more than once in a short period of time, ears stuffed with cotton, limbs weak, head spinning... and it keeps spinning, sweet tingling on the skin turning into nasty rushes of cold, muscles too tense, but it's not a cramp.

You feel like shit, every possible hormonal and neuromediator crash downing on you, a hollow, depressing weight in your chest instead of a sweet afterglow. Sweat and cum feel disgusting on you skin, your skin feels disgusting, strangling, your whole body seems revolting, too heavy, too sluggish. A sticky, suffocating heatwave on your nape, but your chest is cold and covered in goosebumps, a feverish feeling clogging every pore. Nausea wrenches into your stomach and stops just before you can relievingly barf and get rid of this parasite inside.

You simply want to dig your nails into your own shoulders instead of his and rip the skin and meat off, free yourself from this burden (you're the burden). Each second as he stays blissfully unaware, holding you tightly with his big hands and panting into the crook of your neck, drags on like a hundred hours of pure torture - the torture of being yourself.

Throwing up feels like an appropriate reaction to how unappealing and ugly you feel.

You're spiraling. You couldn't fucking keep your own messed up emotional outburst - completely unreasonable and unprovoked, by the way - to yourself, and now it's going to be noticed. You'll ruin someone else's fun. Make it all about yourself when you've already been nothing but doted on, cared and provided for. Fucked so good that your body is still clenching around that magnificent cock deep inside you.

And you're fucking crying, like an ungrateful, egotistical brat. Never having enough, unable to provide something as simple as a hole to make someone else happy without fucking it up.

Ghost notices immediately. There's nothing that can escape this man, and definitely not his love's distress. He's not reacting immediately for a sole reason: he's frozen in fear, horrified that he made you cry. How - he's not sure, he always takes great care to stay within limits, never allows himself to push you further than you both agree on. But what if he slipped up? What if he got carried away? Did he cause pain? Did he say something hurtful in the heat of the moment?

"Fuck. Hey, hey, lovie... look at me... wha's wrong? Did I... did I hurt ya?" Good thing you're hiding your face and your red eyes so desperately that you can't see how distressed and downright terrified Simon looks, lost at the sight of your tears. When you shake your head and attempt to push him away to hide your pathetic sobbing, he somewhat calms down and brings his big calloused hands to cradle your face, gently prying your own palms away and holding your puffy cheeks tenderly. His thumbs brush your tears away as he holds you, holds you through the growing rage fit of touch aversion, through the shudders and actual wailing. At some point he moves his palm to cover your eyes, a dry, dark blinder to keep the world around you shut out, help you concentrate on his voice.

He's not talking, just humming, a familiar, deep, grumbling noise that soothes all the flashes of anger, hate and disgust in your brain. You're tired now, like you're always are after such an intense outburst, and as you go limp, he finally pulls away, only to pick you up - barely a strain, a direct spit in the face of your own insecurity - and bring you to the bathroom. A warm shower evens your distorted body temperature out, his hands running over your body and cleaning all the stickiness away bring back peace with your own skin. After a quick rinse Simon holds you, your head cradled against his chest, until you make a weak attempt to help him wash too - he lets you trace his body, that perfection you adore with all its old wounds, sores and scars, for a bit, and then finishes himelf.

Gives you fresh cotton underwear and his hige T-shirt, still holding you around your shoulders and keeping the comfortable pressure even while he changes the bedsheets, kissing your temple as you find it in yourself to help.

It's only after you settle on top of him, nice, clean comforter protecting your back against the world, head on his chest right next to his heart beating in a steady rythm, he finally breaks silence.

"Need anything else, lovie?" Just like that. No prying, no occusations, nothing that would put you on the spot. You can ask him to bring you the moon soaked in unicorn's milk, and he'll just nod, kiss your hand and start dressing up, already calling Johnny to ask where the fuck did Scots hide their last horned horse and if he happens to know where they enlist astronauts.

"Just you."

His grip on the small of your back tightens and you feel his uneven, scarred lips graze the top of your head.

"Ya've got me. Always."

Soap is running hot like a furnace, still shivering and panting after what he considers the best sex he has ever had (every time with you is). He lifts his face, buried into the crease of your neck previously, and starts peppering you with slightly sloppy, grateful kisses - your neck, your jaw, your lips, your...

When he tastes your tears and opens his unbelievably blue eyes to see your expression contorted in disgust, he panics. Pulls away immediately, hands both itching to grab you and shake a reason for that look on your face out of you and too scared to touch you in case this hatred is directed at him.

"Whit's wrong, leannan? Are ye a'right? Ye didnae lik' it? Shite, lass, Ah'm so sorry, Ah didnae mean tae-" He stops yapping only when he notices the way your lips tremble as you try to plead with him, sobbing that it's not his fault.

"'M sorry, I ruined it... I'm so sorry, sushine, I just... fuck I wish I wasn't so bloody sick in the head and ugly..." Speaking out loud only worsens your anger, directed solely at yourself, and you try to wipe your eyes furiously. As the tears keep rolling, your frustration only grows - maybe if you yanked your own hair really good or slapped the disgusting pudgy cheek you've despised ever since chidhood as everyone kept pointing out how big they were...

"Ye didnae just call the love of mah fucking life ugly." Johnny's voice is a mix of a harsh order to cut your bullshit and pure disbelief. His huge paws wrap themselves around your wrists, stopping you both from harming yourself and covering your face. You're forced to look at him, and as you do, you see his handsome face flushed with a passionate anger at the intrusive thoughts in your head, heavy frown in his thick eyebrows and the sea in his eyes dark and deep enough to drown a whole fleet. You'd be scared if it wasn't obvious how hurt he is underneath it all - like a kid whose favourite plushie just got mocked by his classmates.

"It's just a toy," adults would say, and they would be bloody wrong.

"Tis not a toy, tis mah friend."

You're his friend. His love. His heart, his soul, his everything - he whispers that frantically, kissing you over and over, hot palms running over your body, wiping the cold, the stickiness, the goosebumps away. You don't have time to think, to spiral again, you're drowning in that exact sea that's spilling from his eyes, staring at you with pure devotion - a sea of affection, admiration, love, love, love.

Johnny nuzzles up to you like an animal seeking comfort, hides into your chest, right after he kisses your sweaty double chin, breathes in deeply, lets go of your soft shoulders only to grab two handfuls of your tummy, kneading it, warming up the stale blood, squeezing your big thighs between his and getting lost in the frenzy - he honestly doesn't even remember already that he was comforting you, he's fully in the worshipping mode, leaving you no chance to dip even a single toe into the self-conscious thoughts again.

You'll just have to stay there, every single tear lapped up from your face, and accept every greedy touch and word of a man utterly in love with you. Even the messed up parts.

Gaz keeps his cool despite how distraught even the thought of your sadness makes him. First of all he moves aside to give you space, makes sure you're not hurt, asking in his usual kind - unbelievably kind, so much that you burst into tears again, feeling undeserving of such unapologetically soft treatement, tone.

"Shh, shush, gorgeous, you're not hurt, are you? It's okay, c'mere, jus-st like tha', very good, love," praises keep spilling from his tender lips as he carefully helps you sit up, simply dragging you away from the damp from sweat and everything else spot on the sheets. He ends up balancing half his bare ass off the edge of the bed, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest as he feels you already coming back from that hopeless place as soon as your body gets stuck between clean, dry and a bit cool sheet and Kyle's firm lean body of a litearal god - or a prince, at least.

His deft fingers are already at work, massaging your scalp, chasing the tension away, but the second he feels you grow uncomfortable with the repetitive movement, he stops and retreats to simply holding you in a steady, reliant embrace. You know he's good with his words, that's how he got you, swept off your feet completely and made you swoon with sweet compliments, hilarious snark and smart talk.

You just don't expect him to do it all over again in the face of your burdened mind crumbling in the paradise.

"Talk to me, angel. Let me inside that pretty head, hm?"

It takes this sweettalker just a couple of words to coax whatever that ugly, slimy knot in your throat is, out. You sob, retelling Kyle every single thought that has been stuck in that coagulated mess in your head, spill the bile that has been burning your retching throat, out in the open, for him to see the disgusting ugliness of your insides - matching your outside.

Somehow throughout your choking trade his soft, careful hand never leaves your back, rubbing circles of different radius and intensity into your skin to keep the aggression at monotonous touch at bay.

"Must've been some terrible person to overbear your spirit and plant all those lies in your mind, angel." You don't catch the meaning of his words at first, glancing at him confused and whoozy after you exploded with self-deprication. Those dark, calm eyes look at you no different than before: quiet, calm reverence and determination. A thread of spider's silk, thin as a hair, but stronger than steel, his love does not waver. Were you in the right state to actually pay attention, you would've seen it only grow.

"Well, beautiful, this isn't how I planned to start writing poetry, but since you insisted... maybe I can think of a diss track about you."

"A diss track?.." Poor you, so upset that you can't catch onto the mischievous glint in his eyes and that silly smooth sarcasm slipping into his words. You're actually half a step away from believing he would diss you, destroying that already non-existent self-esteem once and for all.

"Yup. Gotta diss-tract you from all that bullshit in your head for good. Unless you'd rather me fuck it out of you instead?"

You cannot not smile at that, even if it's a weak, timid smile. Kyle's face still lights up as if he sees an actual angel, bringing the good grace or whatever.

"There ya go. First step of the mission? Success. Permission to continue? I repeat, permission to continue?"

"You spend too much time with Simon. Permission granted..."

Price undrstands what's going on before he even hears your first sob, the tension in your body and the change in your breath telling him all he needs to know. There's enough experience in this man for the both of you, he has learnt to read people and immediately accomodate them in a way that serves a common goal so long ago that it's a secong nature already.

Your comfort is that common goal.

With a grunt, he rolls you over, planting you firmly on top of his warm, burly body. Untucking your head from his hairy chest, he holds your face and does not let you concentrate on anything but his stern, focued gaze under those bushy eyebrows - but there's still that undeniable tenderness in his eyes that's always there whenever John looks at you.

His voice sounds usual too: a calm, commanding, but not harsh tone, not a loud bark any of his subordinates would hear, yet still an order. "Look at me, darling. Tha's right, look at me, look at your John. You shut whatever's going through that troubled mind of yours out and let me take care of the rest, a'right? Can you do that for me, darling? I know you can. I'll do all the thinking for ya, eh?"

Giving control over to him feels natural at any other moment, but right now you're too deep in the trenches of the war with your own mind, hissing at you with pure disgust for being so selfish. Really, now? Had to use this sweet, caring man for your own needs, and now you're dumping all your perverted, fucked up baggage on him too?

"Nuh-huh, ya're still thinking. Told ya to cut if off. You know that's not you thinking right now, dontcha? You're a smart one, love, ya know shit like this happens. And when shit happens, who are you going to to deal with it, huh?" His deep voice rumbles in his chest, seeps into your clogged ears, fills your skull with the unyielding determination and leaves no room for your own dark thoughts.

When you hesitate to answer, John slides his rough palms over your back, tracing your soft rolls and landing onto the pudge of your hips, squeezing lightly to remind you who's in charge and what your task is. "Who is there for ya to deal with shit that happens, hm, darling? Need ya to tell me."

You want to hide, escape his demand for an answer, but he keeps you firmly in his embrace, a gaze of steel unmoving from you. It almost makes you tear up again, almost feels mean of him to put you on the spot, when all you want to do is curl up in a dark corner and stay there for all eternity. But the love you have for this man overpowers even the seething hatred you bear for yourself, so you give up and murmur meekly: "You..."

"Tha's right, darling, it's your John. I'm here to deal with everything that bothers ya. Everything, ya hear? Tha's me job. Your job is to stay wit' me 'n' not overthink, eh? Especially not when it's just hormons making ya feel bad." You have nothing else left to do, other than sniffle into his chest and melt under a warm kiss he plants on your crown. "How about a cuppa, eh, darling? And something just as sweet as ya for a bite. Ya'll feel better in no time, I promise."

Ghost and Soap cancel each other's panicking out. As soon as both you and Simon slip out of the sweet afterglow, falling backwards each into your own pit of self-doubt and spiraling, Johnny starts babbling, terrified at the thought of both his beloved people feeling worse after being with him. His slurred, panting words and frantic kisses help Simon shake of his own horror - in return, he squeezes Johnny's shoulder to slow the worried mutt down and redirect his energy into helping you. Soap tenses up under the firm touch of his Lieutenant, then relaxes again, leaning into him for a moment to collect himself - they charge from each other, mere seconds of feeding off each other's energies in the middle of a time-limited mission with the highest stakes: your well-being.

They exchange glances, no words needed after the way their work together almost makes them mindreaders to each other, and turn back to you as you lay there, face painfully contorted in an attempt to keep the black foamy bile you feel rising in your throat from spilling. Slow, sticky, angry tears run down your flabby cheeks, and with each millimetre they go, your scalding wish to gouge your eyes out with your bare hands grows, just to punish yourself for being ungrateful after two perfect men spent so much of their time making you feel good.

"Dinnae cry, bonnie. Ye're a'right, ye're 'ere, wit' us. Right, LT? We're nae gonnae let ye marinate in whitevur got ye so upset." The pressure from inside your body that threatened to burst you open into a messy explosion of bile and rot, gets evened out from outside by Johnny's tight hug. He squeezes you up to the painful point, cradling against his broad chest, holding the fort while Simon leaves the bed, but not without kissing both your palms and holding them against his lips until he feels the cold leave your fingertips.

"Oi, Johnny. Help lovie get in 'ere," he calls out several minutes later out of the bathroom. Soap, who has been holding you and allowing you to sob against his heart this whole time, stroking your sweaty hair and murmuring every word of love he knows, scoops you up immediately. He pads over with you in his arms to where a warm bath is already filled thanks to Simon, and when you react to the temperature with another wave of tears, they both reach out to the tap simultaneously.

"Is tha' a'right, bonnie?" You make a strangled noise as Johnny finally sets you down into much cooler now water. It soothes you, makes you feel instantly cleaner, smaller, lighter. Breathing gets easier, that swollen blob of anger and disgust shrinking down in your chest and allowing you to inhale bathroom's damp air normally. You open your mouth to apologize and get cut off before even a single syllable leaves your mouth.

"Don't," Simon's voice sounds gruff, but even his murky reflection in the rippling water looks genuinely soft towards you. They're both perched on the cold bath edge, naked and seemingly not caring about that at all. "Jus' let us take care of you, yeah, love? Tha's what we're here for. Tha's what we want to do."

"Well, actually, there's one more thing," Johnny interjects, causing you to finally lift your sullenly lowered head and look at him, Simon's big palm using this moment of distraction to press onto your back in silent support. "Can Ah make ye a foam beard? Please, bonnie? Ye jus' 'ave the prettiest sweetest cheeks fur tha'."

Soap and Gaz feel like their world is sinking into a whirlwind of stormy clouds, the kind that sucks all light out of sky in mere seconds and can't be cut through even by blinding flashes of lightnings. There is no sun in their skies if you're not smiling, and the sound of your muffled sniffles hits their eardrums harder than thunder or explosions. The frowns distorting their faces only make you more self-aware of the fact that you ruined things between you - the initial hysteria starts rapidly flowing into complete shutdown, threatening to turn you into an emotionless shell for unknown period of time, when several warm, big hands intervene and cut the depressing trajectory down at its root.

"Damn, we did a shit job fucking all your thoughts out, didn't we, angel?" Kyle's joke sounds soft, teasing, but empathetic, ready to be met with sobs or silence instead of the usual laughter that flashes your teeth at him and makes his own smile grow brighter.

"Aye, we did. If anythin', Ah think we put more thoughts intae 'ere instead," Johnny scratches his head dramatically, and then you feel his big, hot palm on you sweaty forehead, as if he's trying to get a feel of the thoughts inside your skull. It doesn't linger there for long, though, rough fidgety fingers digging into your hair and tugging at the roots. This makes the hot-and-cold collar around your nape unclench, uncouth and chaotic massage confidently pulling every ounce of anger out of your brain. From time to time his calloused palm slips lower, squeezing your scruff, wiping the cool sweat away and taking control over what seems to have escaped your own.

"How does it feel to be the first person to get knocked up mentally, love? Having any cravings yet? Feeling your brainworms kick yet?" Dry cotton comforter suddenly covers your exposed to be looked at with disdain body, and before you can choke out a protest and something about you being sweaty and sticky and disgusting, Kyle grips your shoulders firmly, rubbing up and down as he slowly helps you sit up a bit.

"Ye eejit, how dae ye think thay can kick? They're brainworms, thay dinnae hae any legs!" The sheer passion in Johnny's heated counterarguement does the impossible - makes the corners of your deeply upset mouth twitch against all the weight the sadness put on them. Your knights in shining (from all the sweat your lovemaking covered them with) armor of their own warm skin seem to not notice the slightest twitch of your lips - there's no excessive attention drawn to you, none of them puts you on the spot. Their touch isn't going anywhere, but it almost seems mindless, simply their need to have something soft and pleasant to squeeze in their restless hands. "'N' wasnae Mary th' first lassie tae get up th' duff through th' heid?"

"That wasn't mentally, that was spiritually, read your books, Soap," scoffs Kyle, as if it was the most obvious thing, and ducks just in time to avoid a pillow thrown at him with sniper's precision.

"Oi, ye sayin' Ah cannae read now?!" Whatever snarky retort Kyle was ready to shoot, gets wiped out as Johnny tackles him, barely avoiding pushing all three of you off the bed. Their scuffle consists of chokeholds and sneaky kisses, legs getting caught in the sheets and somehow tangling you into the mess too.

Until you laugh, finding yourself squished into Johnny's hairy chest with Kyle in a gently headlock somewhere under your arm.

"Hey, hey, careful, mate, our lovie's expecting, we can't just throw 'em around!" However obvious that deflection is, Johnny reacts as if you were actually with child and grabs your face, boring his eyes into yours, slowly widening his two blue lochs in pretend horror.

"Och naw! Ah think we lost 'em, Ah cannae see nothin' there now!" Flushed after the playfight, you avert your gaze, still a trace of self-consciousness about yout outburst somewhere deep inside, but none of the "brainworms" that clogged your insides in sight indeed. Johnny's little drama earns him a soft nip on his thumb from you, and he smiles at you, clearly satisfied with the effect their little scheme had.

"Aw, damn, and here I was, ready to hear the pitter-patter of 'em little feet," Kyle's warm lips somehow find their way to kiss your temple, eliciting another shy giggle.

A pillow crashes onto both of you with the force of a small bombshell.

"THAY DINNAE HAE FEET, GARRICK, THAY'RE WORMS!"

Price and Gaz fall into their usual ways seamlessly, responsibilities and tasks split between the two seemingly without even any verbal communication. Clearing out the space around you with the same quick efficiency they clear out enemies with, they prop you up on some pillows, assess your condition in case they got carried away and hurt you, and finally settle on both sides of you, warm hands on your knees squeezing softly.

"Are ya gonna talk to us now, lovie? Or will we have to use interrogation tactics to learn what made our love so upset?" John's voice bears no trace of threat, but it still makes you cower and try to take up even less space that your curled up body already has, which earns you a sigh from the Captain. "I see. Take over from here, Sergeant. I expect results once I return."

The matress sighs with relief a Price's weight leaves it, bare feet padding a few steps before he reaches his slippers and leaves the room. The pit that the sound of your bedroom's door closing opens in your chest is crushing your ribcage with the iron fist of vacum. You can't blame John for not willing to deal with your bullshit, but the hearbreak only reenforces the choking smog in your head that's rasping in a hundred different voices that the only thing you deserve is pure repulsion.

Kyle's soft thumb pads wipe the tears teetering on the arrows of your lashes, and in a smooth movement you find your face cupped and pulled close to his shoulder. His smooth skin sticks to your wet cheek and you find yourself crying like a little kid, the unbearable pain of the revolting dark knots inside somehow replaced with surprisingly more bearable grief over what you consider an ending reltionship. Perhaps John leaving our bed finally shattered your heart, letting the ungodly pressure out and allowing it to beat - and bleed - again.

"We'd really like if ya talked to us, angel. Don't think Captain can stand there bare-ass naked much longer, might catch rheumatism at this point, he's not getting younger, you know..."

"I hope you know I can hear you perfecrly clear, Garrick." You stop mid-sniffle, eyes snapping to the closed door. You can finally see the shadow of a man standing just outside, and the air slowly feels with some flavour you can't distinguish through all the snot yet, but seem to like a lot...

"Good, so your hearing's still intact, sir. You're in good shape," Kyle's cheeky remark must've broken John's famous patience and restraint, because the bedroom door finally opens, and you see him there. With a tray with a whole bunch of tea mugs and little plates of treats balanced in his hands.

"Still not talking? Well, we'll try another method then, lovie. Sandwich for your thoughts, eh?"

His cheeks are round with a kind smile, confusing your tortured mind even further - Kyle uses your stupor to fetch John's big, slightly scratchy bathrobe, successfully wrapping you into a cocoon of grounding stimulation all over your feverish skin. With a huff and a grumble about staying butt-naked a bit longer, John puts a pleasantly warm mug into your hands and looks at you, arms crossed and tucked into his armpits now that he got rid of the tray.

Expecting an answer.

"'M sorry..." seems appropriate right up to the moment when a little finger-sandwich gets shoved into your mouth. The bread is soft, nice, salty ham and crunchy cucumber filling your senses and cracking a bit fat line of light right in the middle of the dense cloud in your thoughts.

"Try again, love," Kyle gives a hint and wipes a crumb off your lips, licking it off his thumb. "We don't need an apology, we just want to know what's troubling ya. John, tell 'em."

"Already did," grumbles Price in response and clears his throat, sitting back down on the creaking bed. "Food's working though. Eat up, darling, get your energy. Then we'll talk properly, a'right?"

You chew slowly, still stiff in your own body, but regaining control gradually. Yes. Then you'll talk.

Ghost and Price exchange a single glance over your from, choking on the self-destructive rage, and John shakes his head so slightly that one can barely notice, but it's clear enough to stop Simon from tumbling down the traumatic spiral staircase of his own. Grounded by his Captain's presence, he shrugs his broad shoulders, shaking off the creeping up feeling of his own monsterous nature, and rolls onto his back, pulling you out of the miserable wet ball of wrinkled sheets and onto his firm lap, sideways, his big palms resting comfortably around your hips; he's not squeezing or digging his fingers into the fat like he usually does, but it's a secure hug you can't really escape.

Exposed held too far away from his chest you could hide on, you shrink, rising your shoulders protectively and trying to cover up your soft belly, spilling over your pelvis in a shapless manner - that's when John's arms come from behind, catching yours and instead of pulling away forcefully, simply repeating your own safety cocoon, hiding your body from your distorted sight and keeping you warm.

"You're not thinking straight right now, darling," every phrase he murmurs gently, calmly, convincingly into your ear is accompanied by a little kiss, beard tickling and burning your already irritated by tears skin. "So good for us, so kind. Can you spare some of that kindness for yourself?"

Even though it doesn't sound like a rhethorical question, Simon cups your cheek and shushes you tenderly, pressing his thumb to your lips, allowing John to continue with his little speech aimed to dispel the storm coagulated in your chest.

"'Cos if not, it's a'right, love. We know it's hard, and ya're doing good already. Ya 'ave us, eh? To love ya, to cherish ya. No need to overthink, jus' let us hold you, a'right?"

He finally pushes you onto Simon's chest, his big heart stuttering with worry as you seek shelter among his many scars that paint a horrifying picture once you put all the fragments together.

"How'd you do that, sir?" Simon's voice sounds vulnerable - so much that it strikes through all the layers of your egocentric self-hatred and shifts you almost immeditely into a completely different mindset; one where you throw your whole self into loving your scarred and battle-worn men in such abundance that it's ought to compensate for all the unfairness they've gone through.

There's no need for it now, you realize a little too late: Price is there, keeping Simon away from the darkness. They're fine. Better than ever. It's a distraction, a trick, a play to make your bleeding heart stop the internal self-destruction and turn to healing.

A sly little switch you're not sure they were planning to flip, but it worked.

"Hm?" As if emerging from the depths of his thoughts in response to Simon's question, John caresses your cheek as gently as his rough thumb can and then smiles, maybe catching onto the change in your mood or simply remembering all the times he pulled Ghost out of the same gloom and darkness. "Jus' taking care of me own, Simon. Tha's what a Captain does, no? Now, love, how about a shower? I reckon we can squeeze in all together and papmer you really good, what do ya say, eh?"

Ghost and Gaz manage to keep their cool. Kyle's confident and gentle presence serves to reassure any doubts Simon has about hurting you, he shoots a single glance at his sergeant and recieves support immediately. Two pair of hands cradle you with all the tenderness two soldiers are capable of, which is always enough to drown you in fully. It's a tight hug, a hot mess of limbs, too much skin on skin contact that makes your brain flare with undirected rage, but as seconds trickle by and you're still trapped between two firm bodies, you have no choice but to slip into the exhaustion phase of your outburst.

It's not pleasant, nor could you say you feel calm; if anything, you just petrify, a permanent frown on your face and blindly staring forward glass eyes. You're tired, you'd still rather be anywhere but inside your own body that still feels like a useless deformed bag that should be gutted and emptied to lighten up, inner layer of your skin scrubbed with a knife to peel off the suffocating thickness of fat trapping this heated rage inside...

Instead, you get a kiss.

It's Kyle, soft, full lips touching your wet with tears cheekbone, then again - your temple, your cheek, the overheated spot behind your ear. They're light, soft kisses, too gentle to be playful or arousing. Calming. They do not demand anything in return - he allows you to stay in your inner world where you feel secure, even pauses to kiss Simon the same way right in front of your eyes. A silent demonstrationg of the love and reverence these pecks carry, Simon's hooded eyes fluttering shut as if his own compartmentalized demons get exorcised by Garrick's touch.

"Wanna talk about it, angel?" Kyle's voice rumbles at a nice, grounding, smooth timbre, and your still-too-slow mind struggles to grasp how is it possible that he's talking and you're still getting kisses - until you recognize the uneven texture of Simon's scarred lips, trailing along your skin tenderly. "Whenever you're ready, love. But we would love to know what's going through your head right now."

It feels strange to say it out lound when you're held and caressed like this, but their kisses and solid embrace cleared your windpipe enough of the mental gunk for you to be able to speak.

"I hate myself... 'M disgusting, and-" A displeased grumbling kiss from Simon interrupts you, and even Kyle pushes his huge shoulder to reprimand his own Lieutenant for the interference. Kisses his temple immediately to make amends, though, and turns back to you, prompting you to continue.

"Wot? Don't like when someone talks shit 'bout mine," grumbles Simon like a dog that got flicked on the nose for growling at welcome guests.

"Let 'em talk, mate, it's good to get things off your chest." At least their little bickering coaxes a tiniest hint of smile out of you, and Simon, noticing it immediately, stares back at Kyle with such pride, as if he just did something great.

The thing is, in the way his arms squeeze you a tad bit tighter, pressing into his firm body, you can read that for him - your smile is the greatest achievement.

"Don't tell me you prefer his silent treatement, angel, I'm trying to be the attentive boyfriend here, and for what?" Your smile grows a little braver. A little brighter. You would've kept talking if you could remember what it was that hurt so fucking much in your chest.

"Shower. Then a cuppa. Then we have the talk." No one dares to argue with the Ghost and his gruff commands. You feel the sheet sticking to your skin as he lifts you up, Kyle already sneaking off to prepare towels and clean clothes for you three. He'll stay with you and help you wash the remaints of the mind attack off. Simon will make fresh tea.

You're going to be alright.

Price and Soap take quite an intense approach the second they notice your distress. You feel Johnny's weight disappear from you after the first strangled sob that escapes you, and if you could open your eyes glued shut by the hot, messy tears, you would see John practically dragging the poor Sergeant away by his scruff. It's easy to suspect that Johnny couldn't contain himself and went too hard, too rough on you - with no malice, but pure passion that's spilling from his big, hot heart every time he gets to be close to you.

But it's not Johnny's fault, neither is it John's. It's all you, a useless, pathetic thing, good for nothing and holding two gorgeous men to yourself like a greedy glutton hoarding delicious food.

"Ah'm sorry, bonnie- ow, Ah got it, Ah got it, Ah'm not touchin'!"

"Did we hurt ya, love? Was Johnny boy too rough wit' ya? Wha's wrong?"

You feel big warm hands gliding over your skin, quick assessment of your state in search of potential harm caused. This immediate care only makes you feel worse, every cold sweaty patch of your disgusting hide shivering and twitching under Captain's careful touch. You struggle against your own spiraling anger, fight it with what's left of your exhausted resilience - and lose, curling up with another burst of tears, shoving the loving hands away and dusting the lingering warmth off your body.

After all, you do not deserve to be treated with such kindness after the fit you just threw.

"No, no, no, it's not his fault, it's not Johnny's... it's me, it's my fault, it's all my fault, I ruin everything, I'm- I'm disgusting!"

The silence that follows you blowing up on them is heavy. Just as bad as the knot in your chest.

"Johnny."

When you open your eyes to find a way out, run away, scatter and hide in the furthest corner of the apartment until everyone who tried caring for you leaves again, you're met with Johnny's bright blue eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

It's a shocking sight, pushing you out of the muffled misery into an alerted worry - his face is red with unexplainable pained anger, fists clenched as John holds him tightly by hunched shouders, seemingly trying to prevent a violent outburst.

"Ah wanntae ken names of th' bastarts who made ye feelin' tis wa'. Ah swear Ah will mak' thaim fuckin' choke oan thair ain tongues, Ah'll rip thair spines oot 'n' shove thaim up thair-" - "Enough, Johnny. Stand down. This won't solve anythin'. Ya calm down and help our lovie feel better, a'right?"

Still a bit shells-hocked, you stir on the bedsheets and push yourself up to sit upright, stretching your arms hesitantly to the men in a weak attempt to remedy whatever shitstorm you caused in their minds.

"Don't get mad, please," you whisper sheepishly, and the shy sound of your still choked voice seems to wash Johnny's explosive anger away better than the firm grip of his handler's (Price's) hands. With a look of a beaten dog, Johnny huffs loudly, cuddlng up to you and hiding his face in your lap. His heavy jaw sinks in the plush of your thighs, accomodated nicely with the softness of your body.

"'M nae mad at ye, leannan. Jus' dinnae say tha' again, a'right, bonnie? If ye need me tae prove ye-"

"No..." your hand finds it place in his damp mohawk and brushes through, while you glance at John. His eyes are shimmering with love and love only as he looks at you and Johnny, and you feel a wave of shyness - the good, giddy, warm kind - replacing the paralyzing shame. "I'm fine already. With you."

"Maybe we should 'ave a little chat 'bout it, love," John's hand meets yours on the sad mutt's head in your lap, intertwinig fingers with you through Johnny's soft hair. "When ya feel better. Jus' so we know what we're dealing with, eh?"

"Yeah. A bit later. Thank you."

All four of your men get frozen witnessing your reaction, struck with a horrifying sense of helplessness - it feels like the biggest failure among many unsuccessful missions, operations where lives were lost and enemies missed, to have you curling up and crying in misery between all the love they've been pouring onto you just mere seconds ago. As if everything they touch is bound to go up in flames, drown in blood and rot, be it on the outside or from the inside.

They're lost, and as always, they turn to the Captain, giving themselves up for him to direct, trusting that he knows better what use they can be of.

And, frankly, he does.

They're barely talking, but the commotion around you is decipherable even through the red mind fog and closed eyes - it honestly only makes you feel worse, unsafe, exposed, despite that simply being Soap, sent off to fill a bath ("Ye want it hot or a tad bit cool, bonnie?" - Silence. Your nails dig into your scalp, the soud of someone simply breathing, even more so talking to you, sending you into a new fit of rage. "Make it warm, Johnny, we'll adjust later."), and Simon, leaving for tea duty - silently, your favourite way to have it attentively observed in the first two weeks you've been together and memorized ever since.

It's Kyle whose voice, murmuring into your ear sweet, reassuring nothings as he keeps you caged in a tight embrace, your back pressed against his warm chest, forces you out of the highly irritable state. You have no choice between his short, chaste kisses on the crown of your overloaded head, and John's calloused hands massaging your calves, soft flesh dipping under the firm pressure.

"Ya jus' focus on fighting tha' storm off, a'right, darling? We'll take care of th' rest. It happens, we know it does, 's not your fault. Jus' a funny lil' thing your mind does, eh? Yeah, love, we know wha' it's like when your mind does funny things. Don't we, Kyle?"

"That we do." Maybe it's just your own depressive state rubbing off on them or distorting your perception, but Kyle's voice sounds almost solemn. You would turn to look into the smoky quartz of his eyes, but either he holds you too tight, or you have barely any strength left in your upset body - you simply can't.

Maybe it's alright. Maybe tonight they don't need you ripping your heart out to tend to their restless minds, and you can just allow them to take care of you.

Allow Kyle to carry you to the bathroom.

Allow John to stay there and help you wash yourself with a nice, scrubby loofah.

Allow Johnny to bring in his huge, baggy loungewear that doesn't hug your curves too snugly and allows you to simply forget what you were so angry about for a while.

Allow Simon to serve you perfect temperature tea in your favourite mug and keep you quiet company on the balcony, night air cooling your wet and clean now skin and hair further and blowing all thoughts out of your troubled head away.

As you share a cigarette with rich clove aftertaste, breathing ironically becomes easier. Behind your back the bedsheets are being changed, proper meal is being cooked, a good movie you won't be upset falling asleep to is being chosen.

"Simon." - "Hm." - "You sure you're okay with me being like that?" - "Standin' in the wind with your hair wet, tryin' to catch a cold?"

You grunt, not appreciating him taking the piss while you're tryig to be vulnerable, but allow him to pull the hood of Johnny's hoodie onto your head.

"No. I mean, fucked up in the head?"

You don't actually know what answer you expect. With an unreadable expression, Simon turns his head, looking through the glass door at the men crowded in the living room and waiting for you, and then stares back at you with a smirk, a permanent scowl carved into it by someone's cruel hand.

"Nah. Tha's how I like 'em."

He throws the cigarette butt away and chuckles, cupping the back of your head and pulling you inside, into the warmth of home.

"Oi, bonnie! C'mere, As saved ye a spot." There is no spot as you look at the two-story cuddle pile on the sofa and the blanket nest in front of it, unless of course... ah, yes, Johnny's patting his lap. "Ah promise Ah'll behave. Mostly."

And as his warmth envelops you through a big hug, his hands clenched humbly on your belly and behaving indeed, you feel stupidly happy.

Because you're enjoying touch again.

[gojoscinnamonroll]

warnings: MDNI + AGELESS BLOGS DNI, f! reader, getting it from the back, unprotected p in v, jealousy (f! reader), pet names, mentions of starting a family :,) , satoru recording you (consented) other than that, half fluff & half smut hehe

popstar bf! satoru who writes (almost every) song about you because he can't help how head over heels in love he is with beautiful you.

popstar bf! satoru who begs for you to leave wine nude colored kisses on his cheek as a final accessory before he goes out on stage before every show, "pretty pleeeeeease my pretty girl? i can't perform yet until my signature accessory is on"

popstar bf! satoru who brings you to every show and whenever you aren't able to make it, makes one of his security guards record the whole thing for you to watch later.

popstar bf! satoru who is sure to mention you in every interview and talk show he's featured in & always make sure to let the world know how much you are his biggest inspiration.

popstar bf! satoru who has always been so so so grateful that you have been by his side for his entire dream and never gave up on him at all ever since he started writing music in the classrooms of jujutsu high.

popstar bf! satoru who knows there is always a fan or groupie around somewhere, everywhere that you and him go. he never lets it bother him because you, you are the only one he has his sights on and if anything, follows you around like some cartoon character floating behind you and drooling with heart eyes as if you're the popstar.

but the only problem?

is that you can't help but shake the feeling how much it pesters you when you can't even enjoy some personal time with him without some fan always trying to flirt and get in his pants right in front of you. you've always been so elated to see him get the recognition and praise he's worked so hard for when his precious fans come up to him and ask for a picture or autograph, but girls like this? you can't help but feel like crashing out because how known does he have to make it that he's all yours?? but don't worry because

popstar bf! satoru who is always so observant of you, notices when you start letting the bothersome fangirls and groupies get to your head. "princess, please don't let them mess with that pretty head of yours or worry about what they say about us, okay? i want you to always know that none of them has anything on you. it's always going to be me and you forever , and i'll do anything i can to show the world that."

and he's true to his words because backstage in the dressing room before his next show,

popstar bf! satoru has you in the mirror looking back at him in a state of bliss as he has your hair in a soft grip and sliding his thick and veiny length in and out of your dripping cunt. "it's all yours my pretty baby, i belong to you and you only." he heavily breathed in your ear.

and that's when a lightbulb lit up over his head.

he reached over for his phone that was by your hands holding onto the dressing room table for stability and opened up the voice memo app.

popstar bf! satoru who whispered in your ear, "you sound so beautiful taking this cock baby, surprised youuu aren't the popstar singer, g'nna make this the intro or background vocals to my next song mhmm." his charming words in your ear only made you more aroused than you already were and he felt it too, the way that your walls started to cling onto him like it didn't want him to ever leave or move. "ah!- fuck! don't worry baby i'm not g- going anywhere." he groaned in ecstasy as you watched him throw his head of fluffy, snowy, white hair back in the mirror.

popstar bf! satoru who is so pussy drunk off of you that he decides now is the time he wants to start a family with you. " 'm gonna give you a baby, you just f- feel so good, one wouldn't hurt right? p- please say yes mama" he started to pant. he was coming so close.

"mmh, y- yes 'toru, give it to me, fuck! i wanna have your baby!"

popstar bf! satoru who fills you up so much with hot, white ribbons of his seed at the same time as you spasming all over his length. once the both of you come down from your high, he cleans up your leaky mess with the warm moist towels provided in the dressing room, and you help him finish getting ready for his show.

popstar bf! satoru who watches you in adoration as you style his hair sitting face him on the vanity table, "let's start thinking of ways we can announce baby gojo!! what do you say? mommy?" as he kissed you on your tummy.

reblogs & likes are very much appreciated! pls don't copy or steal my works <3

[scotch-the-crafter]

"Uhmm.. I-Is this thing working? Oh. It is.."

"Well, hi there..! M-My name is Scotch! It's nice to meet you!"

"Margret told me about this app, and she convinced me to make a blog, so... Here I am."

★INTRO★

Haiii!!! This is a Scotch roleplay blog! She's a character made by Edgyaludon/Edgyverse :3

She's adorable and one of my favorite characters so why not?

My headcanons for her ★

- Scotch adores arts and crafts, and she enjoys making things for her friends.

- Her closest friends are Margret and Marvin.

- Lesbian in denial-/hj

- She's very shy and timid, but she is also a very good friend and cares for others.

- Her favorite color is obviously pink.

- Her favorite snack is cotton candy.

- If you hurt her feelings, she'll cry... A lot. So please be nice to her :(

- Might have a crush on someone... But she won't say who.

- Extremely ticklish

- Keep glitter glue away from her, she'll make a huge mess with it-

- Can be a bit clingy.

- Loves those scratch-and-sniff stickers.

- Also loves everything that's pink, glittery and pretty :3

- Has autism.

- 16 years old.

★RULES★

- No NSFW or weird asks. Scotch is a minor.

- Do not spam in the askbox.

- Do not try to hurt/kill Scotch in any way.

- If you do not agree with my headcanons, at least respect them.

- Donation asks will be deleted.

- Respect mod and the people they roleplay with.

- Tickle asks are fine, just don't be a creep.

Scotch talks in pink

[mod talks in blue]

Tags

- #the lil crafter answers = Scotch answering your asks

- #crafting stuff = Random roleplay posts

- #mod talks = Mod talking

🩷🐻🩷🐻🩷🐻🩷🐻🩷🐻🩷🐻🩷🐻

Other students

@ask-margaret-sterling @engels-ask-blog @askclairefpe @claire-the-silly @sopibub @lana-and-her-sockpuppets @abbie-appleboy

@oliversoapeater-official @zip-the-chaos-child @3dward-th3-s1lly

@emo-kitty-skell @rabies-infested-riley @riley-crazy-kid @silly-pan-robot

@ask-amy @ask-kali-stuff @askmyfpeocs @popularkid-basilous

Teachers/Staff

@ask-mister-barrel @janitor-mister-broomire @mister-hotchkiss-craft-teacher @ask-misscledor-anything @miss-ashachus-cafe @ask-the-alert-brothers @ask-benedict-ignite

@math-teacher-who-loves-oreos @miss-bloomies-science-class @wendigo-language-teacher @pansexual-music-teacher @best-art-teacher-miss-sasha @ask-principal-grace @mrbasils-cookies

∆lice and Hansel

@alice-monstrous-princess @cannibalistic-forest-god

Danger au

@danger-abbie @danger-zipster @danger-bloomie

Science au

@science-au-oliver006

That's all! Will update this post if I've forgotten to add something, but that's most likely it.

[luckyarchivist]

Hiiii ^^ hope you are doing well!

Even if you haven't yet gotten his red choice, i wanted to ask your opinion on Vere's changes! I've seen quite a few contrasting takes(like some who think he's pretty much the same, some find him to be nicer than before)

Hope I'm not overloading you! Take all the time you need and have a nice day/night <3

Hello, anon! You are not at all overloading me, I am a tiny blog with an empty ask box and a whole lot of time on my hands, as long as it's after business hours.

I want you to know that, even though you said you wanted to know my opinion and that Vere's red choice didn't matter, I felt like I had to find it before I could answer this. Luckily, I know Vere pretty well (Scorpio resonance) so I was able to get it this morning before I went to work :D

But as far as Vere's changes, my opinion, in a title:

Vere 2.0: Sweet AND Sharp, Just How I Like It

I would argue that both takes are right: Vere is clearly being nicer to MC, but he's also mostly the same. Part of this is because a lot of his dialogue hasn't been changed, just removed or added to. And the additions have been "sweet" additions, to contrast his already "sharp" personality without dulling it entirely. Well, except for the part where Vere says he wished he coulda fought that guy before Ais took him out:

That wasn't there before.

But Vere touches you gently in this version of the demo. He expresses frustration that you won't listen to him despite your supposed kinship (his lines about "people like us"), and that you keep attracting and then falling headfirst into danger. These sentiments seem awfully close to worry.

Now, these lines and emotions were there before. But before, Vere also made the MC so angry that they nearly stormed off out of the conversation. The entire interaction, especially the section in the bar, is marked by an uncomfortable and unpleasant tension, for both the player and MC. The MC comes off as only accompanying Vere because they want him to elaborate on his many cryptic words, not because they're actually interested in getting closer to him. And Vere is being...very unpleasant. The game even says he's in a "foul mood."

However, in 2.0, Vere uses his intro scene to mess with MC, and this scene to show some real concern for them the only way he knows how — cryptically, and heavily masked with biting words. Even so, it's clear he actually likes MC, as opposed to just toying with them for the entertainment. Take something subtle, like when you ask Vere what he thinks of you after he says he despises most people:

1.0: I haven't made up my mind about you, yet. 2.0: You've piqued my curiosity.

Though both of these are vague and waffly, one of these clearly reads as more positive — that you already have Vere's attention and interest, as opposed to him not even knowing if he wants to waste the rest of the night on you. Perhaps even Vere is questioning why he cares that you don't waltz into your death, tramping stupidly around the city, but he feels that way, and it's easier to tell now.

At the same time, a lot (if not all) of his dialogue regarding the other LIs is the same, which means it's all just as scathing as before. This helps retain Vere's 1.0 personality as a foul-mouthed and sharp-tongued misanthrope (which, of course, excludes Ais).

Having played both Vere and Leander's route now, and having heard about Kuras's, I'm of the impression that one of the big 2.0 demo goals was to add or showcase more layers for all the LIs, even if the changes or additions required to accomplish that goal weren't as dramatic as Leander's. Sometimes it's just a matter of making things a little more clear for your readers. And I think that the RSS writers were able to do that with 2.0 Vere, and in the process, make dating him a more attractive possibility for a lot of players :) It is a dating sim after all, and most people probably want the LIs to like them. Let me not speak for those who love 100% dismissive and cruel asshole Vere, though XD

As for his red choice? Well, that doesn't have anything to do with how nice he's gotten. Let me just say, I'm quite glad that my own personal concerns were addressed in this version with that particular choice.

I love it when the lore comes together!

[n3no-n3o-neur0n]

finally, God

✨Intro post✨

Welcome to THE CHAOS GANG™

Hiya creeps, cryptids, and curious souls! You’ve just stumbled into the absolute mess that is this blog — unfiltered, unhinged, and occasionally undead

First of all:

✨Info on the creator✨

Haii!! My name's Nero Fruity but y'all can also call me Nerinho, Neri, Neno, Neni, Nen or any other variantion of my name u find!! The sky is the limit 😉

‼️I'm a minor‼️I don't mind adults interacting with me just don't be weird

I'm Autistic and a silly goober heheh 😼

I'm a cis female, bisexual and go by She/Her

I'm European, from Portugal ^^

Made by @g1r-ap0ca1yps3 / @espressodepressoconan

✨What to Expect from Miss Nen Fruity?✨

- Rants

- Rants on my hyperfixations

- Simping

- Simping on my hyperfixations

- Writing (Soul Train Of The Endless and maybe sum other things)

- Gacha

And most importantly

Them ↓

The Chaos Gang™, a very loud (and kinda spooky) group of losers, besties, and gremlins just trying to survive, vibe, and maybe not get evicted this week

✨What to Expect from them the sillies?✨

- Screaming

- Band rants

- Unexplained goo??

- Deep convos at 3AM

- Goth fashion

- Dhampir drama™

- Glitches (?) in our kitchen (thank you ig, Ilya)

And Arakel falling down the stairs again ^^

✨Meet the Creatures... uhh, Members✨

↓

Arakel Hovsepian

(She/They)

Fanart by @moka-hani-pie // @cage-an-angel

(tap images for better quality)

About Arakel:

20 years old / Romanian-Armenian / Cis Female / Straight / Loudest Creature Alive

→ Your favorite goth goblin! Arakel is a bubbly, fashion-forward force of nature with a voice that carries through concrete. She thrives on Deftones, glitter, and yelling at 3AM about her latest hyperfixation. Think “if a raven drank Monster and watched Invader Zim all night.” She’s your local loud cryptid mom-friend but also a menace to society. Loves Floyd, hates wet socks

+ Albino and proud

+ Goth queen

Floyd Shröder (He/Him)

Fanart by @tis-iroh

(tap images for better quality)

About Floyd:

409 years old / Irish-German /Dhampir / Demiboy / Bi + Ace / Has seen too much

→ Grumpy undead dad of the gang. He’s quiet, ancient, and allergic to fun (jk… kinda). Think vampire hunter vibes but retired and now he’s stuck babysitting Arakel. Says 3 words a week and drinks tea with the anger of a thousand suns. Would absolutely kill for this gang, but he’ll complain the entire time

+ Eternal sigh

+ Hates everyone but us

Maksim Mirovich (He/Him)

Fanart by @lord-of-those-who-follow

(tap images for better quality)

About Maksim:

23 years old / Ukrainian / Cis Male / Gay / Chaotic Neutral with headphones

→ Snarky anarchist and professional arson joke maker. He’s like a sarcastic cat that smokes too much and hates cops. Always wearing some obscure metal band shirt and judging your taste in music. Probably wrote a zine once. Besties with Arakel and fights with Floyd for fun

+ Metalhead menace

+ Definitely knows how to make a pipe bomb (in Minecraft ofc...heheh... )

Ilya Mirovich (She/Her)

Fanart by @espressodepressoconan // @g1r-ap0ca1yps3

(tap images for better quality)

About I l y a:

23 years old / Ukrainian / Trans MtF / Straight + Ace / Autistic / Selectively Mute

→ Maksim’s twin and resident soft dream-thing. She doesn’t speak, but her AAC device (a bright orange one with glittery stickers) is full of poetic nonsense, creepy-cute metaphors, and bubble text about frogs. Her aesthetic is Kidcore meets dreamcore meets uncanny VHS tapes

+ Smells like crayons and static

+ Probably not from here (or from now)

She’s the glitch in the system wearing jelly sandals and holding a dead butterfly

Corey MacQuoid

(He/They)

Fanart by @smolwriter // @smolisdrawersometimes

(tap images for better quality)

About Corey:

22 years old / British-South African/ Trans FtM / Aro-Ace + Pansexual / Crop-top King

→ Slipknot #1 fan, don’t fight him on it. Corey’s emo as hell, rocks skirts like a punk legend, and will scream if you diss Joey Jordison (rest in peace legend). He’s got the energy of a caffeinated rat and the eyeliner of a warrior. Not as loud as Arakel but definitely louder than Floyd (low bar tbh). Calls his emotional support eyeliner “Greg”

+ Screams about metal at breakfast

+ Could win a fight in 6" platforms

Chevelle Irowa

(He/She)

Fanart by @cococomiskry32

(tap images for better quality)

About Chevelle:

21 years old / South African / Genderfluid / Bisexual / Very Confused Angel

→ A walking aesthetic fever dream. Chevelle wears pastel lolita one day and neon skeleton prints the next. She uses He/She pronouns because… gender? Never heard of her (but maybe she’s heard of him?). His existence is like if a cursed porcelain doll joined a rave. Loves tea, frosted cupcakes, and confusing the binary

+ Both babygirl and babyman

+ Uses old Barbies to test his juggalo makeup skills

Follow for: chaotic updates, music rantings, simping, autism, weird vibes, Neno being Neno and Arakel’s weekly “Why Floyd Should Smile More” campaign!!

✨Welcome to the mess✨

- The Chaos Gang

- Nero F. 🦋

@espressodepressoconan @g1r-ap0ca1yps3 @ender-afton @tis-iroh @k3nnyb4by @theoisgay0 @bamgyuuu-2001 @worshiptheslice @creationverseblog @alternatememory @atlasprefects @ning-ningx300 @heart-2-hearts @cage-an-angel @matheusgaytriste @izumi-miffy @itzzzzzzyyyyydaaaaa @cadence-is-silly @garbage--account @foreverautisticbrainrot @cool-lesbian-is-here @randomchaos146 @dailydose-of-kazemaru @sizzlingcandyjellyfishhhhhh @infcct3d-zw0mb1eez @i-am-a-fish @inazumafocus @tokytopia

[spilledinkandtearstainedpages]

Intro post

𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐬

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐩, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠

Message for those asking for donations (pls pls look at it)

Adoption list

OOC: please note that the blog looks better if you turn on dark mode. And see @cc-rambles or pronoun wiki for DNIs. Thank you, enjoy

Normal: info notes/creator

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝: αστεριού

Trigger warnings for this blog (tab two is trigger warnings about me)

Lore plot points (not complete)

Small message before interacting

Case file

Please do note I do vent on this blog, so if you don’t want to see that, pls block these tags: #c.c vents, #crane vents, and #creek vents

Content below cut (it’s kinda long which is why I put the cut here)!

Introduce yourself now experiment 1364

𝐔𝐦… 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: αστεριού

𝐀𝐠𝐞: 𝟏𝟔-𝟏𝟖 (𝟕𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝)? 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞.

𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐍𝐲𝐱 Y̸̢̨̭̟͍̫͉͊Ù̸̺̓̀̓͒͑Ṃ̸͊̊̈́Į̴̧̝͔͍͖͇̹̗̅͆̈́̈́̒̕K̷̢͖̣̲̼̼̝̈́̂͜͠͠ͅO̸̜͉̹̳̎͒̎̄͘͘͝ w̷̡̲̲̞͎̣̱̟̰͎̐̋̒h̸͎̲͍̉̉͊̈́̓̕͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜r̵̨͇̰̭̜̈́͑è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜ ī̶̧͙͖̲̘s̷̠͕̪̥͐̌ s̷̠͕̪̥͐̌h̸͎̲͍̉̉͊̈́̓̕͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩... 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞... 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡...

Photo:

Voice claims: Rachel Zegler/Jennifer Lawrence (Lucy Gray/Katniss Everdeen from Hunger Games)

Links are to the specific songs they sound like. Also, Hanging Tree by Rachel Zegler is what they would like as well. So just a mix of the two actors/singers

𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞: 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐞́

𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚n̸͉̠̘̲̼̼̩͗͒̕͝͝ţ̸̛̞̒̑̌́̄̽̀͝ ţ̸̛̞̒̑̌́̄̽̀͝ō̵̝̭͙̊ l̶̘̫͚͎̟̙̺̼̦͈̋̽̔ī̶̧͙͖̲̘v̷̧̬̽͂́̎̉è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜

𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩... 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏! 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄!

𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐇!

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

... 𝕿𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖊

W̴͔̏̕h̸͎̲͍̉̉͊̈́̓̕͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜r̵̨͇̰̭̜̈́͑è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜ ī̶̧͙͖̲̘s̷̠͕̪̥͐̌ s̷̠͕̪̥͐̌h̸͎̲͍̉̉͊̈́̓̕͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜ G̶̢̨̖͚̜̺̭̥̭͓̾̒̃̃̈̏͋͝Į̴̧̝͔͍͖͇̹̗̅͆̈́̈́̒̕Ṽ̴̮̻̼̙̋͐̿̋̌̇̊E̵̪͐̌̕ͅ H̸̪͊̒E̵̪͐̌̕ͅR̶̨̨̖̬̹̥̜̠͎̺̍͐̂ B̸̩̰͕̙͈̏͛̒̐̽A̶̤͍̟̲͓͕͍̼͕͎̽́̒̇͝C̸̢̱̗̟̍͗̈́̆͗͒͊̑͘͜K̷̢͖̣̲̼̼̝̈́̂͜͠͠ͅ

Ṃ̸͊̊̈́O̸̜͉̹̳̎͒̎̄͘͘͝T̷̢̧͎̤̗͙̜͓̽͊ͅͅH̸̪͊̒E̵̪͐̌̕ͅR̶̨̨̖̬̹̥̜̠͎̺̍͐̂ T̷̢̧͎̤̗͙̜͓̽͊ͅͅh̸͎̲͍̉̉͊̈́̓̕͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜y̶̡͕̮͇͖͕̮̳̲̓ â̸̠̋r̵̨͇̰̭̜̈́͑è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜ n̸͉̠̘̲̼̼̩͗͒̕͝͝ō̵̝̭͙̊ m̶̜̍̄ō̵̝̭͙̊r̵̨͇̰̭̜̈́͑è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜

W̴͔̏̕H̸̪͊̒E̵̪͐̌̕ͅR̶̨̨̖̬̹̥̜̠͎̺̍͐̂E̵̪͐̌̕ͅ Į̴̧̝͔͍͖͇̹̗̅͆̈́̈́̒̕Ş̸̜̦̦̦̓́̐̈́͆̅̇̚ Ş̸̜̦̦̦̓́̐̈́͆̅̇̚H̸̪͊̒E̵̪͐̌̕ͅ

C̸̢̱̗̟̍͗̈́̆͗͒͊̑͘͜O̸̜͉̹̳̎͒̎̄͘͘͝Ṃ̸͊̊̈́E̵̪͐̌̕ͅ B̸̩̰͕̙͈̏͛̒̐̽A̶̤͍̟̲͓͕͍̼͕͎̽́̒̇͝C̸̢̱̗̟̍͗̈́̆͗͒͊̑͘͜K̷̢͖̣̲̼̼̝̈́̂͜͠͠ͅ... Į̴̧̝͔͍͖͇̹̗̅͆̈́̈́̒̕ n̸͉̠̘̲̼̼̩͗͒̕͝͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜d̶͇͆̓̂̆͌͛͠ y̶̡͕̮͇͖͕̮̳̲̓ō̵̝̭͙̊ų̷͕̙͚͖̲̱̐̒̀̆̎̈͜

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄! 𝐈'𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬.

𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀-

*𝒞ℛ𝒜𝒞𝒦*

*𝒯𝒽𝓊𝒹*

Tsk. Dr. Syrcus, Dr. Nadia, please take Experiment 1364 back to their cell.

Yes sir!

Dr. Reneé

Yes sir?

Administer #8593 to them in 1 hour and 4 minutes

Yes sir.

OOC intro:

Name: Emily but I prefer Creek, Crane or C.C.

Description:

A suicidal minor with food sensory issues, mommy issues, and a tiny bit of daddy issues. The brains of the team/the researcher and the mom/therapist/silent friend of the group that’s there for you but never speaks up. Kinda don’t really have any friends. The trio I’m in is more of a duo with a little thing tacked on. Cannot handle people not following specific instructions or messing up (intentionally, not accidentally) because it sends their emotions and brain into overdrive (and also if we’re making something, I have this weird thing where I have to make it exactly according to package instructions to kinda get a read on it and what I can adapt and edit), Neither truly understands or feels emotions (may be a sociopath, but I promise you, I’m not dangerous. My mind however is a different story) but will be there to help comfort you and mark down birthdays on calendar to send a happy birthday to you on your birthday. A Gemini. Wants someone to take care of them, but has never had that, so they take care of others. Has eating disorders and has to be reminded to eat. Also, feels like an asshole everytime someone screws up even through they didn’t listen to my instructions because they’ve always been the one blamed for things. And also takes the brunt of the blame.

Current mental state:

Dead inside, tired outside. Burned out.

Aesthetics:

GIFs that represent my current mental state:

Pronouns: pronoun.wiki

Gender: multigender/genderfluid

Age: Minor (meaning I can’t commission anything or donate)

Fandoms list

MBTI: INTP-T

Notes:

I occasionally will be posting my poems.

My other socials are Discord (asteriou14) and AO3 (Tired_doe).

And yes, I will adopt anyone. Just send me an ask or message or any other way to contact me through socials and you’ll be adopted

I bite things as a way to show affection. If I bite you (it’s light, but I do have sharp canines), that means I trust you enough to be vulnerable around you.

Weirdest bday present I ever got: 2 death threats telling me to kms.

Fav place to hide:

In closets or small spaces with a door that I can close, especially if it’s dark.

HP House: Gryffinslytherpuff (Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff)

God/Goddess I’m a child of: Nemestrinus (Roman god of the groves/forests), Hathor (Egyptian goddess of the sky and sun)

Soldier, Poet, King?: me: poet, αστεριού: soldier

Weird/fun fact about me:

I don’t get hunger pains. My stomach doesn’t growl. That means that I don’t really even get hungry, meaning I neglect eating and neglect my body. It’s even worse due to eating disorders making it so that I never wanna eat.

Meet the creator

200 follower event (I still will do anything on the list, even though I passed 200 followers)

My ducklings/kids (I have decided y’all are my problems now will be updated every time I adopt someone) [the specific notes are the baby names for the animal that blog is either centered around or has in their name]:

@the-one-and-only-guck

@kermit-the-fag-uwu - tadpole

@xena-lilac-winters

@icaffs

@enchatedbifrost

@the-l0ser-st4r

@mentallyinsanepenguin - nestling

@im-like-so-pretty - fawns

@the-best-duck-tamer

@thedamsolangelofan

@tiredflowercrown

@stargirl1331

Side blogs:

@cc-rambles

@isis-child-of-iris

@the-wolf-of-the-stars

@moth-drawn-to-the-flame

@that-one-anklebiter

More under this:

Dang, you persistent

First intro if you want to learn more about them: https://www.tumblr.com/the-tortured-one/771886075291615232/about-me-pjo

[zaqnette]

INTRODUCTION⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

s' getting crowded here! Better do some intro ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎っᯓᡣ𐭩

My name is Ara but I love being called good girl :3

I'm 18 y.o, Asian, 5'4 ft tall

She/her

bi

Switch, 70% sub

In my last semester of high school

Things I like: Cats, anime, drawing, reading, embroidering, sewing, baking, playing games.

Here's what my blog is about:

Sharing my rbing fantasies n things I jerked off to

Typical fatherless behaviour

Some messed up shit.

KINKS

R4p3/CNC

!nc3st/f4uxcest (Daddy/Mommy/Sister/Brother/Uncle/Aunt/Step-)

Older men

Ageplay

DDLG

Masked men

BDSM

Breeding

Degradation

praise

Mmf threesome

Gangbang

K9

Teratophillia

Etc...

LIMITS: scat, fart, vomit, fisting, severe pain, cheating kink etc...

Do's & Don't:

I talk about !nc3st and r4p3 etc. So scroll away if you aren't comfortable.

Do not interract if you're minors.

Feel free to slide into my DM's!

Do NOT straight up send me a dick pics unless you don't want to be replied.

I encourage you to send me a request, rape threats or your dirty confession on my ask box ദ്ദി꒰⑅ ´ ˘ ` ⑅ ꒱

Do NOT ask for my pic

Don't expect me to reply your text immediately, I have a big girl's thing to do irl >:(

Navigation:

#arathirst – it is what it is (thirst) #ara ara~ – ᕦ(ᐛ)ᕡ #arathought – all my thoughts

Other Socials:

Session: 05ff8e9e95bc8976066740064d285f0911b239208af8b95944c7a5a7da85482822

Snapchat: youraraara

Note: This is a fantasy blog. I do not condone anything that I mention in my text posts.

[holyfroggie]

❤︎︎mini intro post❤︎︎

❀Artemis, She/Her, Early twenties, Bisexual❀

❀switch (sub lean)❀

There is no rhyme or reason to this blog, but it’ll be a mess and you will love it. Let this virgin be a slut here, okay? 😘 I will block when and who I want to. Don’t be weird or pushy, thannnnks. I don’t send anything, so dont ask.

❀ I’ll make a kinks list later. For now, my reblogs should do ;) ❀

❀ Dms are open if you’d like to talk ❀ Let’s be friends, I don’t bite :3❀ and if we’re mutuals- pleaaaase message me, I want to make more friends!! ❀

❀Asks and submissions are open, have fun with it❀

ps: I’m fat as fuck and If you’re fatphobic you can fuck off. A big girl might just save your life one day ;)

Minors, Ageless blogs, Creeps DNI. Go Away.

[oliversoapeater-official]

Intro ★

"Well... This app seems interesting."

"Anyways, hey losers. My name's Oliver."

"Can't wait to make an absolute mess of this place :) Gonna cause a little chaos-"

Headcanons 🧼

★ Oliver is obviously a bully- so he'll respond rather rudely to some asks.

★ He has a weird obsession with soap, he has a large stash of it hidden in the school. Only he knows where it is.

★ He's transmasc, and he's also bisexual.

★ Surprisingly very soft at times, mainly towards his friends and ∆lice.

★ He can purr :3

★ Actually very ticklish (His underarms are his worst spot-)

★ Has trauma, but he doesn't want to talk about it.

★He also drinks liquid soap-

★ Will sneak into ∆lice's room just to see her <3

★Very protective of his friends.

★ He likes having his horns petted :3

★ He's just a silly guy :P

★ Will freak tf out if you take his soap away-

Rules 🧼

★ No nsfw. I know Oliver is 18 years old but nsfw still isn't allowed.

★ Magic anons and tickle asks are allowed, just don't be a weirdo-

★ Don't ship Oliver with any other FPE character or your oc. (I have nothing against oc x canon, tho- But Oliver is canonically dating ∆lice.)

★ Respect me and the people I interact with.

★ Triggering asks and Gaza asks will be deleted.

★ Don't try to attack or kill Oliver.

★ Don't push him into talking about his past-

"Oliver will talk like this"

[Mod will talk in red]

Oliver's friends 🧼

@zip-the-chaos-child @ask-zip-stuff @ask-edward-fpe @3dward-th3-s1lly

Other students 🧼

@engels-ask-blog @claire-the-silly @clairewithabow @lana-and-her-sockpuppets @abbie-appleboy @ask-lesbian-bubble

@that-emo-skell @ruby-the-pansexual-robot @silly-pan-robot @riley-crazy-kid @rabies-infested-riley

@ask-lizzy-fpe @ask-silly-rabbit

@askofficialfern

Teachers 🧼

@oreolovingmathteacher @miss-bloomies-science-class @miss-thavelll @mister-demis-ask-blog @lesbian-history-teacher @silly-art-teacher @kitkatlovingalgebrateacher

Principal 🧼

@principal-grace

∆lice 🧼

@alice-monstrous-princess

Other 🧼

@danger-abbie @danger-zipster @danger-oliverrr @danger-bloomie @official-crazie @viviansmagicshop @ask-miller @askskary @agethath3silly @thehomehorse @h0pe-anon @zeni-the-silly

[That's all! Byebye :3 my old account is @/oliverthesoapeater. Please don't interact with that one-]

[four-leafed-queer-gal]

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧Hi there! You can call me Clover!𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧toki! mi waso Kowe!𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

‧₊˚🌿✩ ₊˚🪵⊹♡‧₊˚🌿✩ ₊˚🪵⊹♡

I AM NOT ON POST LIMIT

I hate to do this, because there are some genuine and important donation pages and the like out there, but a few bad apples mess it up for everyone I suppose.

ATTENTION EVERYONE:

UNLESS WE ARE MUTUALS, DO NOT SEND ME ASKS OR DMS WITH DONATION LINKS. IF YOU DO, I WILL ASSUME YOU ARE A BOT AND YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

More below the cut ::3

♡ 18 years old, & a Saggitarius! (Fuck the new zodiac sign system, Sagittarius for life, I'm not a Scorpio)

♡ ✨Taken✨ by the amazing @theacemagpie, the Black Bat to my Spoiler 8/7/2024 (Or 7/8/2024, if you use DD/MM/YYYY)

♡ my pronouns are she/they! 🏳️‍⚧️

♡ I have ASD, BPD, PTSD, and ADHD ☘️

♡ I love languages! I can only speak English fluently, but I'm learning a little bit of everything! If you can name it, I likely know at least one or two words! 🗣️

♡ I like Marvel, PJO, Avatar (Both blue people and not blue people), Batman, Hunger Games, Suits (The show), Skyrim, Ben 10 (Not the reboot), and more! ✨

♡ Therian! Theriotypes: Spotted Hyena, Sea Wolf, Viperfish, Vampire Bat, Arctic Fox, Eleonora's Falcon, Moth, Barracuda, Thresher Shark, Raven, & Cheetah (Plus others I haven't figured out yet)

♡ my favourite animals are dinosaurs 🦖

♡ I love to read 📚

♡ I enjoy writing! ✏️

♡ I am questioning my religion, I have no idea anymore tbh- Half considering making one-

"People are going to talk shit about you no matter what. May as well give them an interesting topic!"

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Please DNI if: you’re queerphobic, anti-self dx, someone who supports beastiality, zoophilia, pedophilia, rape, etc, or if you’re racist, ableist, sexist, or fascist, or if you use the word zionism wrong. Be nice! I know the block button exists but I don't like using it, and much prefer to argue and correct falsehoods ✨☘️

Am Israel Chai | עם ישראל חי

Zionism doesn't mean "Kill The Arabs," otherwise very few people would be Zionist; It means "Jews Deserve a Place in the Land that's also sacred to the Jews."

Proudly hoping for a two-state solution

Taylor Swift makes halfway decent music and is a bad person <3

"Be humble, be kind, but don't be afraid to drag the fucker who crosses the line" - La Storia

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

Side blogs! Pls interact with them?

- @diogenes-totally-real Diogenes the Cynic gimmick blog!

- @aeolus-the4winds RP blog for Aeolus, Notos, Zephyros, Boreas, Euros, Aeolus, Auster, Favonius, Aquilon, and Vulturnus!

- @literally-the-first-state Gimmick blog, Delaware! The first state in the United States!

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

Here are some of my cool humans (moots)! 💚

♡ @theacemagpie My amazing girlfriend! A fellow fan of numerous fandoms, and a speaker of multiple languages! <3

♡ @star-dust-shark Mack! He's a super cool dude, and who made most of this intro post! Go check out his blog!

♡ @violet-hady Hady! Great person, good friend, though always tells me to be healthy and stuff-

♡ @sarah-ankh Sarah! My lovely Irish moot, and fellow sword lover

♡ @poemsofanentomologist An anentomologist! They're really cool, they write poetry and have inspired me once or twice to write some of my own!

♡ @i-am-thoroughly-confused A fellow therian & fellow bat! They are a good being :3

♡ @poppitron360 A fellow PJO enjoyer! They've got great takes on Riordanverse stuff, y'all should check out their blog!

♡ @justagremlinoncaffeine Gremlin! Cool person, really nice, I've enjoyed every interaction I have with them.

♡ @unstableunicornsofasgard Forrest! Also a great person, ¡y el habla español!

♡ @peace-love-and-french-toast Amazing human! I sometimes do PJO rps with them, and with a bunch of others! They run @cabinseventheaterchick, and do a darn good job!

♡ @lizzzzzzzzzzzzzz---lol We haven't interacted much, but Liz is a great person, and what little interaction we have had has been good!

♡ + All my other moots! I have a lot, so I can't list all of y'all, but you're all amazing!

₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ﾟ.

"Either walk like you are the Queen, or like you don't care who the Queen is." - Ngaru

Have a nice time! <3

(Notes: Intro post was made by @star-dust-shark!! If you want one like it, go check out Mack's blog!! Credit for the shark pictures goes to @/dadstielkline)

[pansexual-music-teacher]

★Intro or something like that★

Hi. This blog used to be @mr-aftonnn, but I've decided to change my blog.

Anyways this is now a Mister Demi roleplay blog because he's silly :p

Headcanons ★

- Mister Demi is 32.

- He's Pansexual and Transmasc.

- He's married to Miss Sasha ( @best-art-teacher-miss-sasha )

- His son is Engel ( @engels-ask-blog )

- He's actually extremely protective. Over his family and his students.

- Miss Thavel is his sister.

- He's a bit of a neat-freak, will immediately clean up the smallest mess-

- His favorite students are Engel, Lana, Claire, Abbie and Bubble :3

- Ticklish? Kinda- (Hips are his worst spot-)

- He has a wendigo form.

- Only swears when he's stressed or angry.

- His horns are a melt spot :3

🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶

Rules ★

- No nsfw or suggestive asks.

- Magic anons are allowed, as well as tickle asks, just don't be weird or creepy about it ;-;

- No trying to hurt Mister Demi, even though he really won't be very fazed by your attempts-

- Respect the people I roleplay with, and respect me as well.

- Don't spam in the askbox.

- Respect my headcanons.

- Just have fun!^^

Mister Demi will talk like this

[Mod will talk like this]

Students ★

@askclairefpe @claire-the-silly @engels-ask-blog @ask-lesbian-bubble @lana-and-her-sockpuppets @abbie-appleboy @abbie-the-apple

@oliversoapeater-official @zip-the-chaos-child @3dward-th3-s1lly @ask-edward-fpe

@ask-silly-rabbit @ask-lizzy-fpe

@sk3ll-em0-k1tty @ruby-the-pansexual-robot @riley-crazy-kid @rabies-infested-riley

Other teachers (and principal) ★

@math-teacher-who-loves-oreos @miss-bloomies-science-class @wendigo-language-teacher @ask-miss-thavel @best-art-teacher-miss-sasha @lesbian-history-teacher @kitkatlovingalgebrateacher @mrbasils-cookies @ask-principal-grace

Other (Kaaatieverse) ★

@askskary @agethath3silly @ask-miller @viviansmagicshop @official-crazie

Danger AU ★

@danger-ruby @danger-bloomie @danger-abbie @danger-engel @danger-oliverrr @danger-zipster