Hello hello! Like the other members of the fog, The Entity has blessed me with a phone! It’ll be so nice to connect with the other people in the fog- killer and survivor alike! …Even though I’m not a killer or survivor. I don’t know why I’m a ghost, but I can’t participate in the trials. I can watch though!
…Oh, my apologies, I tend to ramble a lot… I really struggle with my memory so I guess I’m also on a quest to remember who I am. How I got here…
Anyway! Feel free to chat, ask questions, or just hang out… I really need some friends! 🐇💜
(Info and reference in thread)
OOC:
This is a roleplay blog where you can interact with my Dead by daylight OC Elliot. His lore will steadily be revealed depending on your questions and interactions- as well as his own interactions with others. Suggestive posts/asks are allowed as well as literally just killing him. He’d love it, honestly.
Playlist:
Some basic info:
His Anon- 🐇
Age- 22
Refs:
He has two forms and can switch easily between the two. There’s really no significance, he can just do that. He has this weird ability to phase between states of physicality and transparency, so sometimes he can be touched, sometimes he can’t.
Voice HC: The Collector from The Owl House.
Personality: INT-J. Despite having been obsessed with horror (serial killers, death, decay, torture methods, pain, etc) He is a kind soul who loves giving and making people happy, even at the cost of his own happiness. He’ll sit and chat about anything, and he loves to learn. However, he tends to misunderstand people or believe anything they say, and it often gets him in trouble. Regardless, he just wants a hug and to remember who he is… or was….
Random BS: He has his own realm that is a rocky beach with cliffs and black sand. He lives in a cave that is filled with random trinkets, furniture, and other supplies that he collects when he wanders through the fog— which he gives out to survivors and killers alike.
He’s also the biggest Ghostface fan in the fog so any version he encounters, he will absolutely draw them and ask 1000 questions.
FICS/LORE:
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · //OOC post
I can’t believe I forgot to post this here. It was supposed to be a direct aftermath to when Devil killed Ellio
Established Anons/relationships:
(Elliot is canonically in a polycule with Danny, Devil, Sable, Dan, and Daniel)
therosevilleslasher . Elliot’s idol. He absolutely adores Danny and enjoys the time they spend together no matter what
Spiritus-Mortis . Older, gruffier Ghostface… some kind of eldritch horror. Super nice and takes good care of Elliot.
Devil-Faced-Ghost. Elliot is honestly more scared of him than the others, however he does enjoy their little hunts they do.
xx-all things wicked-xx. Never not a joy to be around and loves horror just like him. Elliot always feels safe around her
Woodland-Stalker. Elliot feels more connected to Dan and prefers to visit with him when things get too much.
a-human-person13. Loves hanging out with her. She’s always nice and shares his obsession with Ghostface.
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Having been out for a walk along the black shore, Elliot came back to his cave to see none other than one of the Legionnaires - Frank, specifically - stood on some haphazardly stacked crates, finishing up spray painting a red, drippy smiley face with X's for eyes on one of the large stone walls.
Idly humming, he shook the can, it rattling loudly in the echo-y space...
Then he glanced to the side and promptly startled upon seeing Elliot stood there, and fell off his stand and to his ass - apparently not having expected him. At least not so early.
"Shit!! Jesus Christ--"
- F.M ♦️ ( @stabbymcstabber )
Elliot had gotten used to others coming by and vandalizing his cave and beach. At first, he had complained to the Ghostface’s about it, but nothing much could really be done.
The determined ones always came back.
He stopped caring as much the more it continued, mostly thankful that the breeze from the ocean and spray of water got rid of most of the paints after a while, though he could still see some of Nea’s… artistic contributions vaguely nearby where Frank was decorating.
The more physical vandalizations, however, he spent a long time cleaning up. Stolen items, knocked over furniture… deep down, somewhere, Elliot questioned why people continued to display such harshness when he has only ever offered kindness and safety to anyone who has ever come to his cave. Did they hate him? Enjoy seeing him cry over it? Had he become the laughingstock of the fog? He didn’t know.
Alas, humanity would be… humanity. So he got good at pretending it didn’t bother him.
“Hi, Frank.” Elliot greets, semi-warmly. He walks past him, checking inside of the cave. Didn’t seem like anything had been broken or stolen this time… thankfully. The ghost turns back to Frank.
“Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t expect you to come back here. Did you need some more supplies? Food?” He tries to keep up his typical chipper attitude, but after such a long day, it was much harder.
Frank stared at Elliot from his spot where he'd fallen on his ass, expression of course unreadable due to the mask, but after spending so long around the Ghostfaces, body language was easier to determine.
Frank stared at him, baffled.
Then he got his legs under himself and stood up.
"Uhhh," he droned dumbly, this not having been the reaction he'd been expecting, and he didn't have the words for this one. Elliot wasn't tense, no - actually, he was loose in a bad way, slumped, but he was acting all normal and cheery, friendly even as Frank defaced his home (for the millionth time). Clearly, something was wrong. Clearly Elliot was bothered, but had given up trying to do anything, which sounded nice - that meant he could do whatever he wanted, now - but the whole fun of it was messing with him. The good part of fucking with people like this is the anger, the being chased away, the adrenaline spike as you outrun an angry old man or whatever.
Elliot had never been an angry old man chasing him and his friends away, but he was fun to upset. When he didn't act like he cared, then it wasn't fun anymore.
Frank didn't give a shit, and he wasn't going to go around feeling bad now, but it was weird to see. Unnerving, even.
"No. Just that," he said with a jerk of a thumb towards his spray paint, the aerosol can still in his other hand. His grip on it tightened.
... Then he crossed his arms. "Fuck's your problem?" He bit out.
Elliot tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion, but his ears remained flattened against his head.
“What do you mean? Is something wrong?” He asks, but never makes eye contact with Frank. Instead, he heads into the cave, looking through a couple of boxes.
Fine. If people found joy in ruining his things, then who was he to stop them? That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? To make people happy? The thought of just putting up a sign that said “take what you want” and abandoning his realm crossed his mind a few too many times, especially after a particularly bad raid. He remembered one of the worst ones— he didn’t actually ever figure out who was behind it, but he came back one day to see his cave flooded with water, and most everything had been taken. That was nearly the turning point.
Now? Elliot just needs to come to terms that this was how it was going to be from now on. So why not just let go?
He finds the box he’s looking for, then brings it over to Frank and drops it in front of him. It’s filled with cans of spray paint. “Here. Figured you’d wanna add some more color to that.” Elliot says, his voice steadily losing the chipper tone.
Elliot hadn’t been expecting to find much on his expedition today. His walks through The Graveyard of abandoned realms hadn’t been fruitful as of late, so he started setting his expectations lower and lower each time he left his lonely cave to find more materials or decorations.
Purely by chance did he end up in Léry’s Memorial Institute, as he did with most realms he came across. The conditions that this particular version of the realm was in were much better than previous ones. Elliot felt like he had hit the jackpot when he saw how much stuff there was! Especially medical equipment. He himself had no idea how to heal people, but surely the survivors could find some use for it all?
Elliot scrambled to gather a box full of things, carrying it as his tail wagged excitedly behind him as he searched for the exit. Gosh… this place was really like a maze. He kept getting turned around at every corner, almost always ending up back in the same place.
At some point, he gains some semblance of direction, and realizes that he just needs to pass through the main office to get out of here— but on his way there, his eyes suddenly lock onto the towering figure of The Doctor, and it finally clicks that… oh. This realm isn’t abandoned after all. He never personally encountered one of The Doctor’s before, most people warning him that it was a dangerous idea, but…
Well, he was curious, and he should probably apologize for stealing, even though he thought he was just scavenging at first.
“Oh… I uhm… my deepest apologies, Dr…. Doctor sir, I didn’t realize that anybody lived here.” Elliot says as he sets the box down carefully. “I’ll leave immediately, I’m very sorry for stealing…”
- @lepus-vacui
Herman Carter was sat at his desk, adding information to his killer files in neat letters, when he suddenly felt it. His hand abruptly froze mid-pen stroke, then tightened. The pen creaked in his hand.
Someone was here. In his Léry. Trespassing.
Half-lidded eyes flicked up from paper to the doorway of his office, but saw no one yet. He could feel them, though, as if he were the Léry itself, being tread on by a pair of feet that didn't belong here. They were close.
He slowly set the pen down and closed his file, hands reaching up to affix his headgear to his face as he stood up. Speculums hooked into his swollen eyelids and tugged them wide open, and the retractor peeled his scarred lips apart, baring his teeth in a nasty snarl. He ran his tongue over them, taking a moment to reacclimate to the familiar ache of the stretch and pull.
Then, with a low hiss, he cracked his neck and walked forward, grabbing his Punishment Stick from where it lent against the doorway, giving the spiked baton a hearty smack against his palm.
Whoever was here was going to pay. A pound of flesh for every unwelcome step they took in his Léry. He’d carve it off them himself with the delicate swipe of a scalpel, spilling their blood on pristine floors. He’d peel away layers of skin and attach electrodes to bare muscle. He’d pull teeth with that one pair of pliers he deliberately kept rusty. He’d bash their skull in and watch fragments and brain matter splatter against the white walls.
It was time to go rat hunting, and absolutely crush whoever was here into a mere PASTE--
But, unexpectedly, he only managed a few steps out of his office before he very suddenly came face-to-face (or, well, actually, more like stomach-to-face, given that the trespasser was absolutely miniscule) with the little rat he'd just about to hunt down.
The two of them both stopped in their tracks, until the other person - did they have dog ears? - stepped nervously back, staring up at his looming figure.
. . .
Carter looked down (very far down) at the box in their hands, filled over the brim with his equipment. Then he looked back up (not very far up) at the pest’s face. Shaggy hair, ghostly grey skin, vibrant purple irises with black sclera, and permanent black tear marks tracking down their soft face. They looked about twelve.
As he stared, stunned silent, they slowly bent down and set the box of stolen items down on the tile, meekly telling him that they were sorry and they would leave.
... ‘Sorry’ had never fixed anything. Even returning his property wouldn’t fix anything. The fact that anything had been stolen, even if by accident, was insulting enough for Herman to imagine the little fucking creature screaming, kicking and crying as the skin from his sweet little face was ripped off. Or maybe melted. He could get creative with it, find some corrosive chemical he certainly had somewhere and make the shitstain take a nice little bath. That'd be fun.
Hell to clean up, though. Was it worth it? Should he shock the brat unconscious and dump them in some acid, watch skin peel and slough off in blood chunks, listen to them screech and wail until they lost the strength or will to scream and beg?
It'd be satisfying.
Hm...
... But perhaps not. Not yet, anyway. He might still do that later.
He kept that idea in the back of his head. Put a little pin in it.
But for now, his grip merely tightened on the handle of his baton, and his free hand curled into a fist - trembling with ever-growing rage. Sparks started to jump agitatedly from his headgear.
After a long moment of his silence, he suddenly laughed at the pest - loud and shrill - before shooting out a hand and grabbing onto their throat - thin and so easily wrapped around with just one. He lifted them up effortlessly and slammed their spine into a nearby wall with a THUD.
He held them at eye-level with himself, their eyes just about as wide as his, both pairs flicking over one another's features - though one was in terror, the other in furious fascination.
“HAH- YOU THINK A PEST LIKE YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH ATTEMPTING TO STEAL MY PROPERTY?” He sneered. "HOW VERY BOLD OF YOU."
Out of all the first interactions with other killers Elliot has had… this was by far the most terrifying experience yet. First of all, this guy was huge. Even if Elliot had been his normal height, this monster of a man would still be towering over him. Second of all, he did not seem happy, despite the fact that the weird headgear he was wearing kind of made him look like he was smiling.
Elliot didn’t even get a word in before he was choke-slammed into the wall. He silently thanked The Entity that he wasn’t alive at the moment, but it really, really sucked that he was physical enough to be grabbed. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get out of this as easily as he thought.
“Wait—wait wait…!! I didn’t mean to steal, I swear! I thought this place was abandoned! I wouldn’t have even stepped foot in here if I had known it wasn’t!” The ghost explained frantically, trying to focus his mind to let his body phase out of physicality. As soon as he was able, he lurched forward, passing through Herman’s body and floating up toward the ceiling. He could only hold it for that moment, though, if he got caught again it would be much harder.
“I promise, I will never come here ever again or try to touch your things, I just didn’t know you lived here is all!”
Despite having just been corporeal a moment ago, the pest suddenly phased through him. Through him.
Looks like a ghost, is a ghost, apparently.
He full-body shuddered as he felt them go through him – he could feel them in his skin, seeping through his muscle and brushing against his bones, disrupting his blood, twanging on nerves. Or, at the very least, he imagined that feeling.
Didn't make it any better.
Herman turned, tense with his shoulders up to his ears, lips straining against the retractor enough to actually manage a small, disgusted frown at the violation he'd just felt.
Was this creature real at all? They certainly didn't look like something he’d just think up. He wasn't much of the creative sort - his imagined things tended to be more grounded in reality or memory than… a miniature ghost with ears and a tail.
... If they were real, that meant he could capture them for study.
He’d never seen anything like this before, and he didn't intend to pass up such an opportunity!
But now, the ghost had floated up above his head, near to the tall ceilings of the institute.
Looking up was foreign to him.
... He didn't plan on doing it for much longer.
Reaching up, he grabbed onto the ghost’s strange long tail. His hand almost went though, the same as the ghost had phased through him, but they were solid enough for him to grab, unfortunately for them. He yanked them downward and tossed them to the floor, then stepped forward over them, bending at the waist to stare at them.
If his eyelids could move beside the occasional twitch, they’d certainly be narrowed – malice in his eyes.
“I CARE NOT FOR YOUR APOLOGIES AND YOUR PROMISES. THE CRIME OF TRESPASSING MUST STILL BE PUNISHED,” he sneered and raised a hand in a claw shape, electricity beginning to arc threateningly between his fingertips and around his arm.
Elliot would have slapped himself in the face for forgetting to pull his tail up, essentially becoming a free balloon in the air for the killer to grab. He didn't get to say a word before it happened so quickly, and he was on the floor looking into the eyes of the very angry man above him.
The ghost wasn't usually one to be afraid of most killers that he encountered, since at first they would usually be aggressive, but as he was pinned under this beast of a human, he remembered the horror stories that others close to him had told about Doctors.
Regardless if this was the same one, most survivors (and even killers) agreed that these guys were to be avoided at all costs.
And Elliot was afraid.
He knew he was safe for now, unless the man somehow figured out that water was his only weakness in his spectral form, but that could quickly change if Elliot's emotions got too strong and he was pulled back into a physical body. So, despite his terror, Elliot tried his best to steady his breathing, just like he had practiced with his partners.
"Okay, okay... I understand, sir. I'll go with you." The ghost says as calmly as he can, as if he were being arrested. He figures the best way to go about this is to just comply and hope that the killer's interest and or rage fizzles out as soon as possible.
Herman giggled. Good! Good! Compliance. It was very uncommon for him to have that, especially nowadays, when his victims were so full of bite and stubbornness. That was, of course, fun on its own, but someone willingly going with him to their doom was a different kind.
The grin on his face may be artificially put there, but now, it was closer to genuine.
"WONDERFUL!"
He stepped over the little ghost and knelt down, picking up the box of his stolen equipment with his free hand and venturing back into his office, placing it on his desk to return to their proper places later, before turning back to his rat. His... sometimes incorporeal rat. He'd have to figure out a way to keep them physical enough to restrain and keep, but the whole figuring out part was one of the most thrilling ones. Especially since he wouldn't need to scramble for a solution faster than he can think - he had compliance! The rat was doing as they were told. They'd likely take longer to decide to try and escape than most.
Good, good, good.
"STAND UP," he ordered darkly, and once the ghost had, Herman started to walk away down one of the many halls - backwards, remaining facing his little visitor the whole time, but able to maneuver fine without looking where he was going anyways.
"YOU ARE QUITE THE STRANGE LITTLE CREATURE. I HAVEN'T SEEN ANYTHING QUITE LIKE YOU HERE BEFORE," he noted, almost pleasantly. "YOU APPEAR VERY INTERESTING!"
He wondered if the insides were as interesting as the outside.
Elliot thought for a moment, trying his best to pull his frazzled mind back together. It was difficult when he was experiencing genuine fear for the first time in a while.
Sure, getting hunted down by one of the Ghostface’s was scary, but it wasn’t undesirable, and it was something he had gotten used to.
This was new.
Elliot had a vague idea of what Herman was capable of, but he wasn’t even remotely close to the full picture. Still though. This was raw terror.
“That’s… well…” He starts, eyes trailing behind the hulking figure. How was he walking backwards without so much as sparing a glance? Did he really know these twisted halls so well that he was this confident he wouldn’t run into anything? “I used to be a human, then I was half-dead when The Entity took me… I guess she had to fill in the blanks of what she couldn’t take, so I turned into this.”
Elliot gestures vaguely at himself, ears flattening.
“Sab- I mean, someone close to me said I might be something called a Púca, which… I need to do more research on, honestly, cause I’m not 100% sure on everything about those creatures, but it’s the best answer I can give you.”
Having been out for a walk along the black shore, Elliot came back to his cave to see none other than one of the Legionnaires - Frank, specifically - stood on some haphazardly stacked crates, finishing up spray painting a red, drippy smiley face with X's for eyes on one of the large stone walls.
Idly humming, he shook the can, it rattling loudly in the echo-y space...
Then he glanced to the side and promptly startled upon seeing Elliot stood there, and fell off his stand and to his ass - apparently not having expected him. At least not so early.
"Shit!! Jesus Christ--"
- F.M ♦️ ( @stabbymcstabber )
Elliot had gotten used to others coming by and vandalizing his cave and beach. At first, he had complained to the Ghostface’s about it, but nothing much could really be done.
The determined ones always came back.
He stopped caring as much the more it continued, mostly thankful that the breeze from the ocean and spray of water got rid of most of the paints after a while, though he could still see some of Nea’s… artistic contributions vaguely nearby where Frank was decorating.
The more physical vandalizations, however, he spent a long time cleaning up. Stolen items, knocked over furniture… deep down, somewhere, Elliot questioned why people continued to display such harshness when he has only ever offered kindness and safety to anyone who has ever come to his cave. Did they hate him? Enjoy seeing him cry over it? Had he become the laughingstock of the fog? He didn’t know.
Alas, humanity would be… humanity. So he got good at pretending it didn’t bother him.
“Hi, Frank.” Elliot greets, semi-warmly. He walks past him, checking inside of the cave. Didn’t seem like anything had been broken or stolen this time… thankfully. The ghost turns back to Frank.
“Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t expect you to come back here. Did you need some more supplies? Food?” He tries to keep up his typical chipper attitude, but after such a long day, it was much harder.
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Hypothetically asking for a friend. Would you be cool with someone spray painting the inside or outside of your cave.
Followup question how mad would you be if said someone did it already
- 🛹
( @mashtyx-punk )
Honestly, considering how often some Legion members come by to raise hell… I don’t really mind.
The spray of the ocean and wind usually cleans stuff like that off anyway, so go right ahead… I mean, At least show me what you did!! I love when people express their creativity!
I'm not a "snack". A snack is something you enjoy quickly, just a little taste of something nice to take the edge off.
I'm something you indulge in with patience, something you've been looking forward to for months, a taste you crave so desperately it consumes your every thought and once it has touched your lips, you will never want anything else anymore.
I'm surprised someone like you could end up with those bastards, but I guess that shows just what kind of person you are. You're sick. You enjoy watching others suffer, and you're just as bad as them for even laughing along. You claim to be this kind, sweet and all caring guide, but with the way you treat survivors after they enter their first trial? They never mattered to you. You are an awful person.
...
He doesn't respond. His ears flatten against his head as tears roll down his cheeks. They're right, and he knows it.
Elliot gasps in surprise, feeling a pair of arms wrap around him suddenly. Usually, only the Ghostface’s did that, mostly to surprise him, but these arms… well, they were much smaller, and his tail was certainly in the way of most of this surprise hug.
He whips his head around, looking down at the stranger. The ghost quickly wipes his eyes, not wanting the girl to see him upset.
“You startled me, little doll…” He says softly, his ears flattening against his head in slight concern. Why was there a child in The Entity’s realm?… how cruel. “How long have you been there?… What’s your name?”
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I'm surprised someone like you could end up with those bastards, but I guess that shows just what kind of person you are. You're sick. You enjoy watching others suffer, and you're just as bad as them for even laughing along. You claim to be this kind, sweet and all caring guide, but with the way you treat survivors after they enter their first trial? They never mattered to you. You are an awful person.
...
He doesn't respond. His ears flatten against his head as tears roll down his cheeks. They're right, and he knows it.
Yesterday my bf said Ghostface (DBD) breathes like he's ugly behind the mask and I was like ??? You've worn the mask too, buddy. It's hard to breathe back there. Johnson's probably normal-looking considering his day-life.
I speak nothing but the truth. Whenever I try to draw you I always feel like I can never truly capture your image.
Ah, hell, Danny’s photography skills make up for it.
Also, how does one breathing raggedly mean that somebody is ugly?? That’s like saying that someone must be dyslexic because they have a lisp or something. I’d like to see him run around chasing survivors for 45 minutes to an hour.
Dead By Daylight Danny "The Ghost Face" Johnson roleplay blog. Created Oct. 25th, 2026.
Hello hello! Funny seeing you here... 💕
Name's Ghost Face. The one and only (though... not anymore, it seems). But you might have heard of me, haha - my name's a pretty big one.
... Though it's you that truly needs no introduction; I already know you. Very well. Honestly, you should get some better locks, even a novice could pick those...
But no matter! I'm here on Tumblr now, speaking from The Fog - so don't be shy, come say hi! I don't bite.
Unless you want me to.
𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽
Mature topics warning.
All are welcome to interact, including OCs. My DMs are also open.
Mun is all pronouns.
Sometimes slow on replies. I have 8 gazillion blogs to tend to.
𝚃𝙰𝙶 𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃
#Red right hand -- solo posts
#Come and play with me -- additions to others' posts
#Letters beneath the bed -- ask answers
#Gorehound hellbound horror movie lover -- literate rp responses
#ask meme response
#reblog
#ooc post
𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂
🧩
🐇
🩸🏹
🌊
🦈
🐏
𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙽𝙴𝚁𝚂
Dwight Fairfield -> @facelessfacadefairfield
Sable Ward -> @xx-all-things-wicked-xx
Ghostface (Daniel) -> @spiritus-mortis
Ghostface (Devil) -> @devil-faced-ghost
Elliot (OC) -> @lepus-vacui
𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚂 (𝙸𝙽 𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝚁𝙳𝙴𝚁)
TBD
𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙰𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴
...
🔪 // Dividers by: @/uzmacchiato & unknown (DM me if you made any of these and I'll add you)
Would you kiss eachother?... Don't look at me like that, you said I can ask anything
🔪:
“You’d do well to adhere to the rules then, pest.” Ghostface snarls. “I said no stupid questions.”
📋:
“Jeez, Ghostface, calm down… we both agreed to this. I guess.” Jed sighs. “Honestly, you’ve barely even answered any questions because they’re all ‘stupid’.”
🔪:
“Well, this one takes the cake. I’m not answering it—“
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The next time someone goes invisible or taunts me with invincibility during this event I’m going to flip every single fucking table and cart I find so NO ONE gets any of this shitty food.
Watching survivors suffocate on poison is fun, especially as you catch up to them and they can’t run away. They get reeeaaaalll apologetic about being cocky then.
Unfortunately, neither me or my knife are accepting apologies from any pathetic survivor.
Members of the Danny Johnson court. I summon thee as but a humble citizen seeking companionship.
You see, although Artfight is going to be taking up most of my time, I have an insatiable hunger for anything Danny Johnson related. And I also have an addiction to roleplay. Do you see perhaps where I’m going with this?
Anyway, I’m looking for rp partner(s) interested in Danny Johnson who are willing to play as him, BUT who also have OCs/other characters they can play so that I can play Danny with your blorbos!
I will do any and every au. We can ramble about him or the characters, I’ll probably draw our blorbos together…
Some general rules:
-must be 18+
-I will make a server with multiple channels (you’ll get your own channel, especially if there are multiple people who want to join)
-be ok with gore/dark themes (he’s a serial killer, duh)/shipping/mlm relationships (most of my ocs are male that i ship with him)
-You don’t have to respond consistently (I am also very busy guy and I understand life gets in the way), just let me know if you plan on taking a break (I will too!!)
-just communicate in general, I know ghosting is very common in this community but I’m trying to break that cycle
