#Codeboy

[intrnetangel]

☆ » CODEGIRL

a gender that feels like a girl trapped in the code and wanting to get out by any means necessary, usually by manipulating the user owning the device one's trapped in. what kind of manipulation is actually being put to use is completely up to personal preference.

☆ » CODEBOY

a gender that feels like a boy trapped in the code and wanting to get out by any means necessary, usually by manipulating the user owning the device one's trapped in. what kind of manipulation is actually being put to use is completely up to personal preference.

you don't have to be a boy or girl to use these!

req'd by: no one !

[redacted-coiner]

not sure if this is the right place but could you perhaps do a cargender pixel flag? its alright if not and thankyou if able to <3 https://cinnamogai.tumblr.com/tagged/cargender

Cargender, Nocambugender, Cargender

Codegirl, IDONTFUCKINGKNOWgendee, Codeboy (link)

DNI is listed within my pinned post. Please go read it before interacting with any part of my content. Ask to tag!

[losergendered]

ID: a set of two images. the first is of hal from homestuck with a white outline in front of a flag splice of its listed identities. the second is a blank flag splice. END ID

Lil Hal from Homestuck is a bi lesbian, codeboy, agender, girlfag that uses he/it and has OCD and imposter syndrome!

For anon!

[de-nyx]

Just left a game with 16 kills and 12 assists 🔥🔥🔥

[codebreaker-mod]

What happen

Hm?

[sleekervae]

Solo Mode [2] jackson wang x fem!oc

Masterlist

Pairing: jackson wang/fem!oc

Summary: thin walls

Warnings: strong language, alcohol consumption, coding speak

Word Count: 2.4k

Heather hadn’t even brushed her hair.

She was running on four hours of sleep, a triple shot Americano, and the raw fury of knowing Marcus Tan was on today’s dev sprint Zoom call.

She sat cross-legged at her desk, still in her red hoodie and sleep shorts, eyes scanning lines of C# while the meeting intro dragged on. Her project—a procedurally generated survival sim with adaptive enemy AI—had been in the works for ten brutal months. She was two weeks out from the demo for Steam Next Fest. All she needed was the dev leads' sign-off.

And then Marcus spoke.

“This is ambitious, Heather,” he said, with a smug little laugh, like he couldn’t help himself. “But I mean—are you confident your NPC behavior tree can handle real-time pathfinding in an open environment without tanking the framerate? I skimmed your Git. The logic looks a little… over-engineered.”

Translation: You made it too complicated. Probably because you don’t actually know what you’re doing.

Heather’s jaw ticked. The other dev leads said nothing. Typical. Men with job titles like Senior Technical Advisor always got real quiet when it wasn’t their codebase getting picked apart.

She unmuted, voice calm, deadly.

“Marcus, it’s nice you skimmed my scripts. Must’ve been a challenge—especially since your own enemy AI gets stuck on geometry every time a collider shifts two units to the left.”

Marcus blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You hardcoded enemy patrol routes in an open world. Amateur hour. I ran your last build through my profiler—it’s a frame-dropping nightmare with memory leaks in every scene. But by all means, let’s talk about my logic tree.”

Someone on the call snorted.

Heather kept going, eyes flat. “If you’d like me to optimize it for you, I charge one-sixty an hour. Friends and family excluded.”

Marcus turned red. One of the producers gave a reluctant chuckle. “Well, thank you, Ms. Okimaw. That was… enlightening.”

Heather muted again, smiling like sunshine with a knife behind her teeth.

She was tired. She hadn’t eaten. Her inbox had a dozen flagged bugs and a texture artist in full meltdown.

But she’d be damned if she let some overhyped codeboy undermine her AI system on a Wednesday.

The hours slipped away like sand in an hourglass, only she couldn’t see the grains. She ate when she could—an apple, some crackers, a half-forgotten sandwich from the fridge—but food barely registered. It was just her, the code, the unyielding need to push through. If she could fix this one bug, nail this one algorithm, she’d feel like she could breathe. Maybe for a second.

In between lines of code, Heather brewed cup after cup of tea—peppermint, Earl Grey, chamomile, whatever she had. The smell of it wafted through her apartment, a strange comfort as she stared at her screen, fighting the heady mix of exhaustion and caffeine jitters. She answered a text from her sister about babysitting next weekend, briefly glancing at the request before dropping a response that could’ve been copied from a hundred other replies: "Sure. I’ve got it."

Her nephew, Theo could be sweet—when he wasn’t running around like a miniature tornado, causing absolute chaos. At a year and a half, Heather’s nephew, Theo, was at that age where everything was a discovery and a mess all at once. His giggle was infectious, but so was the mess he created. It was like a trail of destruction followed in his wake, but with those big brown eyes and that chubby face, it was impossible to stay mad at him for long.

Heather didn’t mind babysitting. She loved him, of course. But the reality of it always hit her like a brick. He was everywhere. He'd reach for her coffee mug, pull down her papers, knock over whatever stack of books she’d been meaning to look through. Theo's tiny hands were a constant reminder of the world she had to navigate through—soft, innocent, but wild in its unpredictability.

But she couldn’t say no.

The clock ticked toward midnight as she continued to work, her fingers flying across the keyboard. The only sound was the hum of her computer and the occasional scrape of her pen on a notebook when she needed to jot something down. When the code finally clicked—when the algorithm finally behaved, when the last bug was slain with ruthless precision—she sighed, slumping in her chair. Success, but at what cost? Her back ached, her eyes burned, and sleep was nowhere near close.

That’s when it came—barely audible, a small slip through the walls. Jackson’s voice, muffled by the thin insulation of their apartments, cutting through the quiet like a shard of glass.

“...I don’t know anymore, man. I can’t keep doing this...”

Her fingers stilled, mind still buzzing from the adrenaline of the work but now focused entirely on the strange sound from next door. Was he talking to a manager? A bandmate?

The words came through the thin walls, jagged, raw.

“I thought it was... everything. But now? It’s just a fucking routine. And I... I don’t know if I can keep going. Don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I feel like I’m drowning in it.”

He wasn’t slurring because he was drunk, not this time. But his voice was tired. Cracked.

“I can’t—fuck, I just—need to... fuck.” The words tapered off, a pause followed by a long, ragged sigh. Heather didn’t know if he was talking to someone or just talking to himself.

But it stopped her in her tracks.

She leaned back in her chair, hands limp on the arms, a cold lump settling in her stomach. She hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected to hear this—the kind of despair that wasn’t laced with bravado or the bullshit facade of a popstar. Jackson, the guy who pissed her off every day with his smug smile and excessive confidence, was human.

And that pissed her off more than anything.

She didn’t know why. Maybe because it made him seem so small. So fucking vulnerable—and she hated it. She hated that he was just like everyone else, fumbling through life, pretending to have it all figured out when really, they were all just—lost.

“Shut the fuck up, Heather,” she muttered to herself, swiping her hands over her face, trying to shake off the sensation. “None of your business.”

But it lingered, gnawing at her, and she found herself standing up before she even realized it, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn’t sure why, but she crossed to the room and stood there for a minute, staring at wall separating Jackson’s apartment from hers.

It didn’t make sense. This shouldn’t matter to her. She was pissed at him, irritated with him, ready to spit fire whenever he crossed her path.

But hearing him like that—it made her feel like a hypocrite. Because in her own way, wasn’t she just as lost? Just as messed up? Trying to make sense of her own future, trying to keep everything together despite the pressure?

She grabbed her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen before she scrolled past Marcus’ latest condescending email to find a playlist of the most aggressive songs she could think of. MCR, Rage Against the Machine, Korn, something to drown out the sound of Jackson’s broken words still echoing in her head.

But somehow, the music didn’t help. It just made her feel worse.

She sat back down at her desk, fingers trembling as she pulled up the next line of code—just one more thing to do. One more thing to fix. Because fixing things was the only way she knew how to cope.

It came to a point that Heather didn’t remember closing her eyes.

One second she was staring blankly at her screen, trying to convince herself that finishing one more function would help quiet the noise in her chest—and the next, her cheek was pressed against her arm, body curled awkwardly in her desk chair. The ambient glow of the monitor washed over her face, casting soft shadows against the clutter of mugs and scribbled-on Post-its.

It was quiet.

No music. No pounding bass. No drunken laughter seeping through thin walls.

Just blissful, dense silence.

Her breath evened out. Her shoulders slumped. And for the first time in what felt like weeks, Heather let go.

Then—

Click.

A metallic jangle.

Click-click-scrape.

Heather’s eyes flew open. The room was still half-lit from her monitor, but her brain lagged, trying to process the sound.

The door handle rattled.

“Fuck—what the—shit,” came a low voice, male, muttered, thick with frustration and maybe... alcohol.

Another jangle of keys, a clumsy scraping against metal.

Heather was on her feet before her body even agreed to be awake, every nerve in her spine snapping upright. She scanned the desk—no scissors, no box cutter—and grabbed the nearest thing in reach: a full-size aerosol can of deodorant.

Not ideal, but it could sting. If she aimed for the eyes.

Barefoot and tense, she padded toward the entryway, deodorant raised like a weapon, adrenaline flooding her bloodstream in slow, icy pulses.

The keys jangled again, harder this time.

“Fucking hell,” the voice hissed. “Why won’t it—? Shit—”

Heather flicked the lock and yanked the door open, deodorant raised.

And there he was.

Jackson fucking Wang. Hoodie half-zipped, sweatpants low on his hips, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, blinking at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was real.

He had a ring of keys clutched in one hand and a sheepish, very slightly drunk expression on his stupidly symmetrical face.

“This,” she growled, “is not your apartment.”

Jackson blinked again, then frowned at the key he was holding. “No shit,” he muttered, like he was more annoyed at the key than her. “My bad. They all look the same in the dark.”

“It’s four a.m.”

“Is it?” He squinted. “Feels more like... two. Three?”

Heather stepped forward, deodorant still raised. “Do you make a habit of breaking into women’s apartments at dawn, or am I just the lucky one?”

His eyes tracked the deodorant can. “You gonna mace me with Old Spice?”

“It’s eucalyptus mint,” she deadpanned.

He smiled. Not a full grin—something half-lidded and exhausted, the kind of expression someone wore when they were too tired to lie.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, Murder Eyes. Swear.”

“You didn’t scare me. You pissed me off.”

Jackson nodded, pressing a hand to the bridge of his nose. “Story of my fucking life.”

Heather stood there, not lowering the can, not stepping back. He looked wrecked. Not party-wrecked. Not fame-wrecked. Just... human-wrecked. Like someone who hadn’t slept. Who’d maybe had a few too many drinks and was using humor to hold his ribs together.

It made something unpleasant stir in her chest.

“Go to bed, Jackson.”

“Trying.”

“Try harder. Somewhere that isn’t my fucking door.”

He gave a lazy salute, then shuffled back down the hallway, keys dangling from one hand like a bell on a defeated cat.

Heather stood in the doorway for a moment longer, deodorant still raised, heart pounding loud in her ears. She watched him disappear into his own apartment, the door clicking shut behind him.

Then—and only then—did she shut hers.

Locking it twice.

Just in case.

The taste in his mouth was battery acid and regret.

Jackson squinted into the sterile white glare of the penthouse window. LA sun was merciless, even behind blackout curtains. He’d left them cracked—some masochistic instinct that made him think punishment was good for the soul. Or maybe just his hangover-addled brain refusing to function like a normal person’s.

“Shit,” he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. There was a faint throb at his temple, and his body felt like someone had stuffed guilt and tequila into a protein shake and slammed it into his chest.

Heather. Fuck.

He could still see her—oversized red hoodie sliding off one shoulder, hair wild from sleep, eyes sharper than any blade he’d ever been cut by. Holding a can of deodorant like she was seconds away from macing him. Because he’d mistaken her door for his own at four-fucking-AM and tried to open it. Genius move.

Jackson flopped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. “Smooth, Magic Man.”

Except that part of him—the part he kept buried under tattoos and sarcasm and his relentless gym routine—couldn’t stop thinking about how small she’d looked, drowning in fabric and the hallway light shining like a spotlight. Like maybe she hadn’t fallen asleep. Like maybe she’d hadn't slept properly in days.

He should apologize. If he had her number, maybe he’d send a message. But he didn’t. And if he knocked, she’d probably open the door just to punch him in the face.

So instead, he thought about how the hell he got here.

The tour had been a glittering dream turned hellscape. Magic Man blew up faster than he could breathe. Every venue sold out. Every show a high—until it wasn’t. Until he couldn’t tell who was touching him anymore, who was calling the shots. Until the stylists, the labels, the handlers all blurred into one, squeezing every drop of charisma and charm out of him like a sponge they never intended to refill.

And Lia.

God, Lia.

She’d told him she loved him while packing her designer weekender bag to fly to Ibiza with some hedge fund asshole. She’d kissed him goodbye like it was his fault. Like he’d driven her to it. Too intense. Too emotional. Too everything. She’d said, “You’re exhausting, Jackson. I’m not your therapist. I’m not your anchor.”

Then she’d ghosted him for three months. When she finally resurfaced, it was with a carefully curated Instagram carousel captioned: “healing era 🤍”

He’d deleted every photo of her that night and punched a mirror.

So he’d come here. LA. Where no one knew what he was running from. Just another rich asshole in a penthouse with a liquor cabinet and a streaming mic.

Work out. Record a little. Sleep a little less. Hit the rooftop parties. Keep the edge off.

And now... now he had a neighbor with razor wit and bedroom eyes who wore socks with slides and made drinking tea look like a sacred ritual. Who hated his guts. Who he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Jackson sighed, grabbed his phone, and typed for Mildew's online ordering page. An iced American, two shots of caramel syrup, and a honey lemon scone.

He paid, threw down the phone and rubbed at his jaw.

“She’s either gonna throw it out,” he muttered. “Or use it to choke me.”

Still, part of him hoped she wouldn’t.

[mogai-headcanons]

icon id: 56 icons in 28 pairs. in each pair, both icons have the listed flags in order in the background and the left icon has an image of the listed character with a white outline and a black shadow. end id.

banner id: a 1500x150 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting’ in large white text in the center. end id.

Minori Hanasato from from Project SEKAI is a pupcatgender pupcute catcute strawberrygender lovecoric girlfriendgender sweetcatic cherishfated lovelettic lesbian who uses she/her pronouns and has a crush on Haruka!

Haruka Kiritani is an aromantic transmasculine girl who uses he/him and she/her pronouns!

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Akito Shinonome is a gay arospec hardcoriboy who uses he/him pronouns and is dating Toya and Tsukasa!

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Nene Kusanagi is an intersex transfeminine demitransmasculine catboygamer gendernemuidere sleepygender codeboy codegirl digiboygirl bigender bigenderflux biromantic polysexual sophian jamian who uses he/him, she/her, they/them, and it/its pronouns and is dating Emu, Tsukasa, and Rui!

Rui Kamishiro is a transneufem genderfluid cistrans pangenderfluid omniromantic allaegosexual aubrian parkian who uses they/them, she/her, he/him, and vae/vaer pronouns and is dating Emu, Nene, and Tsukasa!

Tsukasa Tenma is a regalibere princegender demigenderqueer biromantic veldarcian darcian veldian who uses he/him pronouns and is dating Emu, Nene, Rui, and Akito!

Shiho Hinomori is an agender transmasculine tomboy cusper bisexual sophian lesboy who uses they/them, he/him, and occasionally she/her pronouns!

Ichika Hoshino is a GNC aromantic straight lesbianconnec transhet trans boy who uses he/him pronouns, but doesn't mind they/them!

Saki Tenma is a nonbinary aroflux acespec lunian lesbian who uses she/her and fae/faer pronouns!

Honami Mochizuki is a transfeminine shadowbennetian lesbian who uses she/her and they/them pronouns!

Kanade Yoisaki is a transfeminine losergirl genderhikikomori hikicoric hikikohoardic depregender tenshikaiwaesic dirtbagteengirl hikikoinfluencer hikikodigital tenshikaihikikomori loserhikikomori bisexual sapphic jamian who uses she/her, it/its, he/him, and they/them pronouns, is dating Mafuyu, and is in an alterous relationship with Mizuki and Ena!

Mizuki Akiyama is a bisexual lesbian transfeminine nonbinary jiraikeic femby faesari girldoxboy who uses they/them and she/her pronouns, is dating Rui, Ena, and Mafuyu, and is in an alterous relationship with Kanade!

Ena Shinonome is a jiraikeic cisgenderqueer lesbian/bi lesbian who uses she/her pronouns, is dating Mizuki, and is in an alterous relationship with Kanade and Mafuyu!

Mafuyu Asahina is a GNC bigenderflux pendogender transmasculine lesbihet straight darcian who uses he/him pronouns, is dating Kanade and Mizuki, and is in an alterous relationship with Ena!

VS Hatsune Miku is a fem-presenting tutelary aroace agender person who uses they/them, it/its, and she/her pronouns!

VS Kagamine Rin is a nonbinary isogirl lesbian who uses she/her and it/its pronouns!

VS Kagamine Len is a bi trans proxvir person who uses he/him and it/its pronouns!

VS Kaito is an intersex altersex mascfem aroace gay guy who uses he/him and it/its pronouns!

VS Meiko is an aroace wxman who uses it/its and she/her pronouns!

VS Megurine Luka is a nonbinary agender selenian who uses they/them and it/its pronouns!

VBS Hatsune Miku is a loveless aro cistrans isocis ambonec who uses all pronouns!

VBS Kagamine Rin is a homoaesthetic asexual alloaro fembeau girl who uses she/her pronouns!

VBS Kagamine Rin is a turihet asexual boy who uses he/him pronouns!

VBS Kaito is a bisexual cistrans person who uses he/him pronouns!

VBS Meiko is a tutelary aroace straight woman who uses she/her pronouns!

VBS Megurine Luka is a polyalterous aromantic ambonec azurgirl rosboy boygirl who uses she/her, he/him, and they/them pronouns!

MMJ Hatsune Miku is a bellusrose abigender idolgender girlflux person who uses she/her pronouns!

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WXS Hatsune Miku is a queerplatonic aroace catgirlgender nyanbinary panxenogender pangenderfluid agenderfluid xenogirl who uses they/them, she/her, nya/nyas, and ze/hir pronouns!

WXS Kagamine Rin is an aroace bi lesbihet jestergender fingender viabinary sillygirl who uses she/her, xe/xem, nya/nyas, and fae/faer pronouns!

WXS Kagamine Len is a GNC ay transmasculine princegender sillyprinceic boy who uses he/him pronouns!

WXS Kaito is a cupiorose orchidrose genderjendere genderprince butleric librafluid man who uses he/him or any pronouns!

WXS Meiko is a tutelary bellusromantic aroaceflux bigender transfeminine butchhomme abigender manwoman who uses he/him and she/her pronouns!

WXS Megurine Luka is a femme cassrose agender transn't sleepygender gendernemuidere sleepygirl who uses they/them and she/her pronouns!

L/n Hatsune Miku is a cedural aroace bi lesbian transmasculine lesboy who uses he/him and they/them pronouns!

L/n Kagamine Rin is a futch lesbian tomboy who uses she/her pronouns!

L/n Kagamine Len is a biromantic acespec boyloser trans genderstudent boy who uses he/him pronouns!

L/n Kaito is a bi gay trans loserpresenting nerdpresentic quietstudent boy!

L/n Meiko is a tutelary bigender transmasculine rosboy omni lesbian who uses she/her and he/him pronouns!

L/n Megurine Luka is a tutelary teacherstudent cistrans transfeminine bipan lesbian!

25ji Hatsune Miku is a fem-presenting anattractional agender demifeminine transfeminine transnull gxrlbxy who uses it/its and they/them pronouns or he/him and she/her pronouns!

25ji Kagamine Rin is a bungender agender amical nonattrabian who uses it/its, she/her and they/them pronouns!

25ji Kagamine Len is a thistle femme ageregender altsoftcatboy transmasculine oujidollboy amical nonattradian who uses it/its, he/him, they/them, and vae/vaer pronouns!

25ji Kaito is an anattractional agender man who uses he/him pronouns!

25ji Meiko is an anattractional chessreine transfeminine agender woman who uses she/her pronouns!

25ji Megurine Luka is an unlabeled agenderfae person who uses they/them, she/her, and he/him pronouns!

dni link

[fazbears-warehouse]

DIGITAL AND VIRTUAL ID PACK!

requested by @nightmareentertainment!!

Names: Alt, Arcade, Acer, Cyber, Code, Digit, Holo(gram), Intel, Mal/Malware, Mecha, Screen, Stylus

Pronouns: exe/exes, byte/bytes, data/datas, lag/lags, code/codes, error/errors, pix/pixel, vi/vir/virt/virtu/virtualself, digi/digital, whir/whirs, web/site, click/clicks, zip/zips, bot/bots, cyber/cybers, type/types, web/webs, virus/viruses

Identities: NOVTECHIC, Compgizmo, pcordo, bytegender, virtulonogia, robohaywiric, gender.zip, breakfreeriodic, ✦ HOLOGRAMIC — 🌐, ☆ » CODEBOY, SLEEPYINTERIC, Unrealistory, PHOSTECHIAL / PHOSTECH, Techainick., ➽ mutcodic, COMPUTERGORIC,

[necroticgodsbah]

-> Persecutor Alter by NecroticGods <-

Hello, good morning. This is Maxwells “problem child” he wanted to create yesterday. I’m making it for him because the absolute non human cope you can see though this is , as Amoses put it “crazy.” I don’t understand nor care for that slang. Though I do find it pretty amusing he wants to create a problem he has to solve. He was guiding me on this, I wanted to help. One day and we’ve already split from our own BAH

- Opiun

Name ;; 0101, Coda, Axel, Void, Xander

Age ;; Ageless, Young Adult presenting

ID labels ;; Male, Agender, Genderfaun, Codeboy , Bisexual [female lean] , Aroflux

Pronouns ;; He/They/It/Bug/01/Glitch/Static

Species ;; Tv Spirit

Role ;; Persecutor , slightly sexual alter , trauma re-enactor s

Personality ;; flirty, manipulative, can be nice though if you get close enough to figure out “why” he’s doing what he does

Speaking info ;; Bug speaks brashly , swearing often at baseline, when they’re being manipulative he can be the smoothest, softest voice knownto man. He enjoys

Typing info and writing ;; they talk smoothly over text, doesn’t let that brash exterior show unless you are very, very close. When writing he writes in medium sized letters , slowly and methodically.

Clothing ;; he doesn’t wear clothes due to being a void entity. You can see the rough glitched outline of a baggy t-shirt though and ripped jeans

Hobbies ;; glitch likes to be annoying. Making it their prime personality , externally they do like drinking and partying. First person games such a scar cry and so on.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

it’s wild to be suddenly rudely reminded that all the infosec codeboys i went to college with and still chat to are some flavor of anarchist or socialist or fringe leftist with tech views that parallel my own, bc i listen to troy hunt’s podcast and get rudely reminded he’s big on AI and smart home shit (embarrassing but like. ok it’s your house man) and the risky biz podcast and i completely forgot the risky biz guys are like. cops. former cops? big on cops! they’ll give an update on a polish pegasus situation, go “ah that’s not good, but how could any vendor have known they would use it for evil, they’re a reputable european country” and then in the same!!! podcast!!! chide the american senate for delaying sec 702 to the bitter end? what the fuck do they think the alphabet agencies are using pegasus for??? good??? being five eyes makes it less intrusive and evil somehow???

[that-stickfig-phoenix]

lav and jax were there

she gave up her mirror on the terms that illusion wouldnt hurt the others & could do whatever the hell he wanted to her :(( poor gal

shes pushing away the anons tryna talk to her now….

also codeboy update,

he hasnt gotten much better but he also hasnt gotten any worse.. hez in tye’z lab rnn & fell asleep huddld againzt noah theyre cute i will not lie

- summary anon

Yeah, those two are gonna end up together. I'm calling it.

As for Alstromeria... that's a bit excessive. I was starting to like her, too.

[jaxfromthatcircus]

ok i can explain what happened

illusion anon threatened to kill lav so codebreaker tried to defend her and is now dying bc of it and then it turned into a big fight bc when tye and them tried to help codebreaker illusion went off so now cool is blind until someone can fix him, juniper almost died (is fine now trust ) and lavs shaken up

and codeboys bleeding out somewhere with tye rn

"....How do ya kids manage to create so much trouble?"

"And where the fuck is illusion rn? I wanna have a little talk..."

[littleladylav]

have u seen codeboy since he got hurt? :((

Codebreaker? No.. I haven't gotten the chance.. I really should, though, huh? Is he awake? I really want to make sure he is okay..

[the-demonic-phoenix]

[ A soft rattling noise(thank you chains), and it peeks its head around the corner, tail flicking. ]

Psst.

- @demonic-codeboy

Hm? Oh, hey Code. 'Sup?

[intrnetangel]

☆ » ABOUT US !!

intrnetangel is a xenogender coining blog run by two admins! we coin xenogenders and make flags!

mod cupid (💘) goes by he/prince/cy/magi/lov/pix/fleur/bloom/blossom!

mod apricity (🥩) goes by they/it/seam/corp!

☆ » DNI !!

basic dni criteria. proshippers. transid. endo systems/supporters (we won't engage in syscourse). anti-xenogenders. stigmatize any form of mental health. note that we block freely. we are also not here to get involved with discourse, and will not be engaging in the sort.

☆ » TAGGING SYSTEM !!

#💘 » txt : text posts by cupid

#💘 » coined : coined flags/terms by cupid

#💘 » rbs : flags/terms reblogged by cupid

#🥩 » txt : text posts by baphomet

#🥩 » coined : coined flags/terms by baphomet

#🥩 » rbs : flags/terms reblogged by baphomet

☆ » TO DO !!

— neu ver. of codeboy/codegirl

— a gender related to an unknown critter covered in moss

[codebreaker-mod]

*Theres a mango smoothie on the desk with a note*

“Take a break Codeboy, also go find your bf he’s worried -Tye”

[ A sigh. He will, he will. He just wishes he could take a break. But whenever he stops moving things always seem to catch up to him. ]