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🪔 ravi kishan x sparrowusa: a priest and a hedonist's tale 🪔
“you became priest. you took celibacy. hmmm better do it. don't get lustful, don't make faces.”
chapter one: the temptation enters the temple
the temple was silent.
the diyas flickered.
ravi kishan stood before the shrine in saffron, eyes closed, completely devoted to god and absolutely committed to his vow of celibacy.
ravi: “koteshwaray…”
the bells rang.
ravi: “koteshwaray…”
ravi: “koteshwar—”
sparrow: “OUCH!”
ravi's eyes snapped open.
sparrowusa 24 stood in the doorway wearing pink sunglasses.
ravi: “why are you shouting?”
sparrow: “i tripped.”
ravi: “on what?”
sparrow looked down.
sparrow: “faith.”
ravi stared.
sparrow: “i'm a baby.”
ravi sighed.
ravi: “this is a temple. behave.”
sparrow: “i'm behaving.”
ravi: “go away.”
sparrow: “can i come tomorrow?”
ravi hesitated.
ravi: “if you must.”
sparrow: “USA! 🇺🇸”
ravi looked toward the ceiling.
you became priest.
you took celibacy.
don't get lustful.
don't make ishaarein.
that evening, manoj found ravi sitting in the courtyard.
manoj: “the man you met three hours ago?”
ravi: “don't.”
manoj raised an eyebrow.
manoj laughed.
manoj: “you've been staring at the entrance for twenty minutes.”
ravi: “i was waiting for someone, mera dola wala nahi aaya."
chapter two: a sacred connection
sparrow came back every day.
he brought fruit.
he brought flowers.
once he brought a banana and announced:
sparrow: “kela.”
ravi: “thank you.”
sparrow: “i brought it because you're my favourite.”
ravi looked at him.
sparrow smiled.
sparrow: “don't make that face. i'm a baby.”
ravi shook his head.
ravi: “you're impossible.”
sparrow: “you like me.”
ravi: “pray.”
sparrow: “i am.”
he pointed at ravi.
ravi nearly dropped the incense.
then the chori happened.
first one object disappeared.
then another.
then another.
the temple became a circus of whispers.
sparrow found ravi alone after evening prayers.
sparrow: “ravi ji, are you okay?”
ravi: “fine.”
sparrow: “you don't look fine.”
ravi: “i'm a priest. i have responsibilities.”
sparrow: “you can tell me.”
ravi looked at him.
ravi: “i trust you.”
sparrow's entire face changed.
sparrow: “really?”
ravi nodded.
sparrow: “i knew it.”
ravi: “knew what?”
sparrow: “that you love me.”
ravi paused.
ravi: “i care about you.”
sparrow smiled.
for sparrow, that was basically a confession.
chapter three: jaldi… the late
the investigation dragged.
everyone wanted answers.
nobody had any.
manoj arrived with another list of missing items.
manoj: “we need something concrete.”
ravi: “jaldi… the late, the answer is coming.”
manoj: “you've said that for a week.”
ravi began asking sparrow questions.
where he'd been.
who he'd met.
when he'd arrived.
sparrow thought it was adorable.
sparrow: “you ask a lot of questions.”
ravi: “i worry about you.”
sparrow: “ouch.”
ravi smiled despite himself.
sparrow reached for his hand.
ravi let him.
sparrow: “papa ka para.”
ravi: “what?”
sparrow: “nothing. i just feel special, you make me feel like the papa ka para i am.”
ravi: “don't get carried away.”
sparrow: “too late, too jaldi”
chapter four: the accusation
then everything changed
the neet akhbar of that fateful sunday, exclusive scoop.
someone produced photographs of sparrow entering the temple.
someone found messages between him and ravi.
someone produced an object supposedly linked to him.
suddenly the story was obvious, the neet akhbar editors had exposed sparrow the usa agent.
sparrow was the thief.
sparrow: “no.”
authority: “then explain the evidence.”
sparrow: “i can't.”
he turned to ravi.
sparrow: “you know me.”
ravi said nothing.
sparrow: “tell them.”
ravi looked down.
sparrow: “you trust me.”
ravi: “i did.”
sparrow froze.
sparrow: “did?”
ravi: “i don't know anymore.”
sparrow's face fell.
sparrow: “ravi ji…”
ravi couldn't look at him.
sparrow: “was everything fake?”
ravi remained silent.
sparrow laughed weakly.
sparrow: “bas aana hai aur viral ho jaana hai, huh?”
nobody understood what he meant.
sparrow wiped his eyes.
sparrow: “i'm a baby.”
the authorities took him away.
he looked back one last time.
sparrow: “ouch.”
the doors closed.
chapter five: the truth
the temple was silent again.
ravi stood alone.
then manoj entered.
manoj: “it's done.”
ravi looked at him.
manoj reached inside his robe.
the missing temple ornament fell into his hand.
ravi silent.
breathing a sigh of relief.
then everything clicked.
the suspicious questions.
the convenient photographs.
the messages.
the sudden evidence.
ravi's strange closeness with sparrow.
manoj's constant presence.
it hadn't been an investigation.
it had been a frame.
ravi and manoj were the actual chors.
sparrow had never stolen anything.
he had simply been chosen.
manoj: “you did well.”
ravi: “did i?”
manoj: “he believed you.”
ravi looked toward the door.
ravi: “he loved me.”
manoj: “i know.”
ravi: “i didn't love him.”
manoj took his hand.
ravi looked at him.
this was his actual love.
the person beside him through all of it.
ravi: “you became my reason.”
manoj: “don't get dramatic.”
ravi smiled.
then the temple bells suddenly rang.
DOLA RE DOLA.
ravi: “ee ka ho raha hai?”
manoj: “come on.”
ravi: “where?”
manoj: “home.”
ravi nodded.
ravi: “home from work.”
manoj sighed.
they walked away together.
behind them, the temple doors closed.
and somewhere far away, sparrow sat alone with his banana, still believing that the priest had loved him.
he hadn't.
OUCH. 🕯️💀
taglist: @mourninglizzy @unfilteredsenpai @thecutleryfamily @hamartia---afatalflaw @gayestcousinastrius @kamalkafool @spinebreaker101 @hamzakamehroomkurta @heer-toh-badi-sad @enigma-the-mysterious @idkhowtopickmyurl @valeofveils @sweet61 @iridescentdingleberry (sorry if someone’s left out. these are the ones i think who would be interested in such nonsense, no offence.)
I'm writing a report on "Impact of social Media on Teenagers" like one of the wisest critics ever present in the world while I myself am the most chronically active person on social media 🥀
Hate to admit it but I'm a hypocrite at this point
lessbereal I am posting for myself; my desires, my scenarios. You don't like me then block me yr? it ain't hard. If you want I can give you a tutorial too ^^
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summary: the cliche "you dropped something..." thing but it's a photo of u when you were just a toothless, tiny creature which was dropped.. why did you even have that with you? Why not? This is my post. :P
Featuring ghouls: Leo, Ritsu, Lyca
a/n: i tried. I failed. I had a palm-sized pic in mind, but this is relative...so u can imagine the dimension as 9cmx5cm
cw: its self-indulgent (like every other post of mine) and chars may be OOC.
----------------------------------------
Leo Kurosagi:
You probably know it already, but I'll repeat anyways, he's observant. He notices everything.
His eyes immediately fell on the photograph the moment it fell.
Will he tell you? No.
Will he ignore it? He'd if it was anyone else, but it's you, so also no. 😊
Is he saving it? .....What even are you expecting, OF COURSE HE IS.
Since you're his fake girlfriend, when your birthday arrives of course he is going to post stories. And you might've guessed, THAT photo is definitely gonna be there.
Yeah, keep staring at your device, try to make sense of it. How did he get his hands on this pic. Spam his DMs with '??', and he might just mock you on how careless you are with your belongings.
Ritsu Shinjo:
You were just preparing to leave after another "business meeting", while packing your bag, something from your notebook which was probably lying forgotten between the pages fell to the ground. You didn't notice it, but he did.
He picked it up, he assumed it to be some random bookmark or something, he did not expect it to be a photograph.
Well....that's breach of privacy now...isn't it?
He mentally swears he did not mean to pry at something personal! It just had to fall on its front and be in his line of sight!
...But that does not justify how he is staring at the pic.
He is merely....confirming your identity as MC in the pic...nothing more....
No. He ain't admitting he finds you adorable, not even to himself. That's highly unprofessional!
He's gonna place the photograph back down. He's wearing gloves, so no evidence left behind as well.
He'll pretend he never saw it and just let you know you dropped something.
Lyca Colt
You dropped the photograph in his room, neither of you noticed.
Until, Lyca wanted to draw.
He wanted a reference to practice. He searched his room and found your pic lying on the ground..
He had no clue its you in the pic though...he didn't bother to know either. He wanted a reference and this seemed good enough for one.
The next time you spot him, he is holding his sketchbook.
He, very proudly, shows you his new artwork!
It's really good too!
hmm....but that baby seems oddly familiar...
It won't take that long for you to realise it's YOU, just months old.
👉👈thankss for the tag
I don't have many mutuals so I'm just gonna tag each of them (doesn't matter if we've ever talked or not, you are special to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
See, I can't say much about it. I ain't right person to ask.
But one thing is clear, whatever is happening is wrong.
I assure you at least 10 students commit suicide when they can't crack NEET or JEE or any other competitive. The paper leak is literally a catalyst that increased the suicide rate.
Now that's real loss, but no our mainstream media is covering some actor's wedding or anything irrelevant instead of the actual matter.
we have to keep it in our mind that we're next. We are going to give competitive exams soon. As years pass, there is development. I don't know about the SDGs and "free our country from poverty" and all, but we'll surely be able to leak online papers too by then.
Someone has to take the accountability...and that someone is ofc our dear education minister. But the bitter truth is, the probability of him resigning is 0.01%, go ahead e-mail him all you want. I doubt if he can even read and understand bruh
Oh and don't get me started on the police. Tear gassing 6 years old, hitting a 12 year old's head, beating the youth (prolly 16-19). It was a literal peaceful protest, a hunger strike.
If actions were taken this fast when a woman was harassed, raped, murdered, then perhaps our country would've been a way safer place.
Your dad has money and you care about your future? Go study abroad. Because I doubt anything would actually change until the next elections..
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Hi, may I request for the ghouls finding out that MC is a really skilled pianist as she never mentioned it to them before, for the ghouls Leo, Romeo, Jin and any other ghouls that you like?
Yes of course! I’m so glad you chose these three specifically lol. I hope you like it!
Mozart 2.0???
Featured ghouls: Leo Kurosagi, Romeo Scorpius Lucci, Jin Kamurai
Tags: fem!reader, romantic relationship implied, Romeo ooc maybe, mc doesn’t know Jin plays piano in his, uh I forgot
⛓️ ————————————————— ⛓️
Leo Kurosagi:
Leo wasn't looking for you. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had wandered off after classes because he wanted somewhere quiet to edit a video he'd filmed earlier that afternoon, somewhere people wouldn't interrupt him every five seconds asking if he'd "seen the latest comments" or "help fix their phone." that fucking himbo
The abandoned music building was usually empty.
Usually.
As he rounded the hallway, phone already in hand, he paused. "...Huh?" Someone was playing. Not smashing random keys. Not stumbling through scales. Playing. And it was beautiful.
The melody drifted through the cracked-open practice room door so effortlessly that even Leo—someone whose playlists consisted mostly of whatever happened to be trending online—could immediately tell this wasn't normal.
The notes weren't hesitant, they weren't read carefully off sheet music, they flowed. As if whoever sat at that piano wasn't thinking about where their hands belonged. They simply knew.
Leo frowned. "...Who the hell..." Curiosity won almost immediately. He carefully peeked through the small window in the door. Then blinked. "...Honor Roll?"
There you were. Sitting in front of the grand piano with perfect posture, eyes half-lidded, fingers dancing across the keys so quickly he almost couldn't keep up with them.
There wasn't any sheet music. You weren't even looking down. The piece exploded into rapid arpeggios before softening into something so gentle it almost didn't sound real.
Leo stared. His brain genuinely stopped working. "...What." Since when? How long had you been able to do this?
He'd seen you cook. Study. Trip over absolutely nothing. Fall asleep during meetings. He'd seen you cry. Laugh. Pout. But this?
This felt like discovering you'd secretly been an Olympic athlete.
His thumb instinctively opened the camera app. The lenses captured your hands gliding across the keyboard, every movement impossibly clean, your expression completely different than usual.
Peaceful.
Content.
Like the piano was the only thing in the world.
Leo found himself lowering the phone after barely thirty seconds. Because recording suddenly felt...
Wrong.
Too private.
Too personal.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket. That almost never happened. Then, the final chord echoed through the room.
Silence.
"...You know."
Your shoulders jumped violently. Whipping around so fast you nearly fell off the bench.
"L-Leo?!"
He leaned casually against the doorway like he hadn't just stood there absolutely speechless for the last several minutes.
"...You keeping secrets now, Honor Roll?"
Your face immediately turned pink.
"...It's not a secret..."
"Oh?"
"You just... never asked."
Leo actually laughed.
"You telling me you've been pulling that out this whole time and somehow forgot to mention it?"
"I didn't think it was important..."
"Not important?" He walked inside, eyes flickering toward the piano before looking back at you. "...You were playing Liszt."
"You know Liszt?"
"I know enough to know people don't just wake up one morning and casually decide they're gonna play that."
You rubbed the back of your neck.
"...I've played since I was little."
"How little?"
"Seven."
Leo stared.
"...You've gotta be kidding me."
"No…?"
"You've had over a decade of practice?"
"...Mm."
"..."
"..."
"Honor Roll."
"...Yeah?"
"I suddenly hate you."
You gasped dramatically.
"What?!"
"I spent four weeks trying to learn one guitar riff."
"I can teach you?"
"...Don't make it worse."
You laughed. God. That laugh.
He hadn't expected this. He always thought of you as dependable. Smart. Kind. But sitting here...
Watching your fingers absentmindedly tap imaginary melodies against your skirt while talking...
It was...
Ridiculously attractive.
"...Play another."
"Hm?"
"I said play another."
You smiled sheepishly.
"...You'll get bored."
"I literally stood outside the door for ten minutes."
"...Wait, you did?!"
"Maybe."
"Leo!"
"What?"
"You should've come in!"
"I was busy having an existential crisis."
"Because I play piano?"
"Because apparently my girlfriend's been living a double life."
You laughed so hard you almost doubled over. He smiled before he could stop himself.
"...You know."
"Hm?"
"I've taken thousands of pictures." You tilted your head. "But..." He looked at you sitting behind that piano. "...I don't think my camera would've done that justice."
Your cheeks warmed.
"...That's..."
"So." He folded his arms. "When's my private concert?"
"...Private concert?"
"Mhm."
"You don't get one."
"Oh?"
"You called me a liar."
"I called you secretive."
"Same thing."
He smirked.
"Guess I'll just have to keep following you around until you accidentally play again."
"...That's creepy."
"It is."
"..."
"..."
"...You'll still play eventually."
"...Probably."
"I'll wait."
🎰 —————————————————🎰
Romeo Scorpius Lucci:
Romeo first heard rumors. Apparently someone had reserved the academy auditorium after classes. Students whispered about "some prodigy." Others insisted it was one of the music department students preparing for a competition.
Romeo barely cared.
Until he walked past the auditorium on his way to meet you. The music stopped him. Not because he particularly loved classical music. But because perfection was something he appreciated.
Designer clothing. Luxury watches. Fine jewelry. Beautiful things deserved attention. And whatever was happening inside...
Was beautiful.
He quietly opened one of the side doors. The massive stage sat empty. Except for one grand piano. And you.
"...BB?"
You hadn't noticed him. Your entire focus rested on the instrument beneath your fingertips. Every movement looked elegant. Controlled. Refined. Like watching expensive silk ripple in the wind.
Romeo slowly approached the front row. Then sat down without saying a word.
For nearly fifteen minutes, he simply watched. By the time you finally finished, you looked up—
"Romeo?!"
He applauded.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"...That." His voice echoed through the auditorium. "...Was acceptable."
You blinked.
"...Acceptable?"
"It was magnificent."
"..."
"Don't let it inflate your ego."
"The Romeo Scorpius Lucci just complimented me."
"I know."
"Should I mark my calendar?"
"Tch." You giggled as he walked onto the stage. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I..." You shrugged. "...It just never came up."
Romeo sighed dramatically.
"You've committed an unforgivable crime."
"...What crime?"
"You deprived me of free entertainment."
"...That's your concern?"
"Do you know how expensive concert tickets are?"
You stared.
"You're rich."
"Which is exactly why I know their value." You couldn't help laughing. He circled the piano slowly, admiring it almost as much as he'd admired you. "...How long?"
"Since I was six."
"So this wasn't luck."
"...No."
"I figured." His eyes drifted back toward you. "You looked different."
"Hm?"
"When you were playing." You tilted your head. "You weren't worrying. You weren't thinking. You looked..." He hesitated. "...Happy."
Your smile softened.
"...I am."
Something about that answer squeezed unexpectedly at his chest.
"...Play something else."
"You'll really listen?"
"I sat through fifteen minutes already."
"...You make it sound painful."
"It wasn't."
You smiled before turning back toward the keyboard. This time, instead of something dramatic, you played something gentle. Romeo rested his chin against one hand. He wasn't looking at your fingers anymore. He was looking at your face. The tiny smile you wore without realizing it. The way your shoulders relaxed. How your breathing synced with the rhythm. He realized—
This wasn't just a skill. It was part of you. A part you'd never shown anyone. And for some reason...
He felt strangely honored that he'd been allowed to see it.
When you finished, the silence lingered.
"...BB."
"...Yes?"
"If anyone tries to recruit you into performing publicly..." He folded his arms. "They're negotiating with me first."
You burst into laughter.
"I'm not merchandise!"
"No. You're priceless."
❄️ —————————————————❄️
Jin Kamurai:
Jin hadn't intended to stop by the music room.
He had been looking for you.
Correction—he'd been looking for the stack of paperwork he'd ordered you to organize three hours ago, only to discover both you and the paperwork had seemingly vanished into thin air.
"Tch."
His irritation was already simmering by the time he walked down the east wing.
"...Where the hell did she wander off to now?"
Then he heard it.
A piano.
Normally, he would've ignored it. Frostheim had more than enough students who fancied themselves musicians. Most of them weren't particularly impressive. This, however...
His footsteps slowed.
The opening phrase alone made one thing immediately obvious. Whoever was inside wasn't just good. They were classically trained.
Years of disciplined practice echoed through every note, every articulation impossibly clean, every run effortless without sounding mechanical. The tempo pushed forward fearlessly before easing back with practiced control, the dynamics swelling and retreating so naturally they almost sounded like breathing. No hesitation. No uncertainty. No wasted movement.
"...Interesting."
Curiosity—rare as it was—got the better of him. He pushed open the practice room door. The hinges creaked softly. You didn’t even react.
You sat at the grand piano with your back facing him, completely absorbed in the music, fingers flying across the keys with such speed that even he had to pay close attention to follow them.
His eyes narrowed.
"No fucking way."
You.
It was you.
The girl who happily followed him around Frostheim carrying books. Who complained every time he dumped another errand onto her. Who somehow managed to make the captain's room feel less empty simply by existing. Playing this.
His gaze instinctively dropped to your hands. Your wrists stayed relaxed. Your posture was textbook. Even your pedaling…
Perfect.
He leaned against the doorway, arms folded across his chest. He could interrupt you. He should interrupt you. Instead, he stayed exactly where he was.
Listening.
As another page of the piece unfolded, he found himself unconsciously analyzing every choice you made.
You weren't simply reproducing the score. You were interpreting it. Your phrasing lingered where most pianists rushed. Certain harmonies shimmered longer than expected. A melody hidden beneath the accompaniment quietly emerged because your voicing brought it forward so delicately that it felt entirely new.
That wasn't talent. That was musicianship.
The final cadence settled into silence and only then did you notice him.
Your eyes widened immediately.
"J-Jin?!"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked toward the piano until he stood beside it.
"Play that passage again."
"...Huh?"
"The development." He pointed toward the middle of the score resting beside you. "The chromatic run."
"You... know this piece?"
Jin gave you a look.
"Obviously."
"...Right." You shifted awkwardly. "Sorry."
"...Again."
Without questioning him further, you placed your hands back on the keys. The passage spilled out once more.
Fast.
Brilliant.
Clean.
Jin listened with his eyes closed.
When you finished...
"...Your left hand."
You blinked.
"...What about it?"
"Too restrained. You're holding back."
Your eyebrows lifted.
"I… I always thought that part sounded too heavy if I—"
"It isn't the weight." He reached past you. "It's the voicing." His fingers settled on the keyboard. "Move."
You scooted over instinctively.
Without warming up, without even glancing at the keys, Jin began playing. The exact same section. His touch was completely different than yours. It was sharper, more commanding.
The melody cut effortlessly through the accompaniment, every inner voice suddenly obvious despite the incredible speed.
You stared.
"You're..."
He continued another few measures before lifting his hands.
"...Like that."
Silence.
"...Jin."
"Hm?"
"...Why didn't you tell me you played piano?"
He looked genuinely confused.
"You never asked."
You laughed.
“That's my line."
"Guess it is." He stepped away from the bench. "...Now." His eyes settled on you again. “Play it."
"Again?"
"The way you hear it."
You hesitated.
"...Even if you disagree?"
"I didn't say I disagreed."
"...You literally corrected me."
"I corrected your technique." His expression remained infuriatingly calm. "...Interpretation's different."
Your heart skipped.
Most people only cared whether you played the right notes. Jin had noticed the tiny musical choices you made—the ones you'd spent years developing.
He'd heard you. Not just the piece.
You quietly placed your hands back on the keyboard. And this time, you played exactly the way you wanted. You leaned into the softer phrases. Let certain notes linger. Ignored the "safe" interpretation entirely.
When you finished, Jin remained silent for several seconds.
"..."
"...Well?"
He looked at you.
"I still would've balanced the left hand differently."
You groaned.
"I knew you were going to say that."
"...But." Your eyes met his again. "...Yours made me hear the piece." He rested one hand on top of the piano. "Mine made me admire it." A pause. "Yours made me feel it." Your breath caught. “Don't get cocky."
"I wasn't!"
"Tch." Despite his words, there was the faintest hint of approval tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How long?"
"Since I was four."
"Competitions?"
You nodded.
"...Regional, national, and a few international festivals."
He gave a slow nod.
"Thought so."
"...You could tell?"
"I've judged enough pianists to recognize one."
You stared.
"...You've judged competitions?"
"A couple."
"...Jin."
"What?"
"...You're actually unfair."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Explain."
"You can fight."
"...Yeah."
"You're smart."
"Obviously." did i mention humble?
"You cook."
"When necessary."
"And now you're a concert pianist?"
"I'm not."
"You literally are."
"I play."
"You play?"
He shrugged.
"It's relaxing."
You laughed so hard you nearly doubled over.
"Of course that's your definition of relaxing."
He watched you for a moment, quieter now.
"...I always wondered why."
"Why what?"
"Why your fingers are always moving." You tilted your head. "You tap rhythms on tables." He demonstrated absentmindedly against the polished piano lid. “You count silently when you're thinking. Even when you're reading, your hands follow imaginary keys."
You froze.
"...You noticed?"
"I notice everything." The confidence in his voice wasn't arrogance. It was simple fact. "I figured you were fidgeting. Should've known better."
Warmth bloomed in your chest. No one had ever noticed those habits before. Not your tapping. Not the unconscious fingerings. Not the way your hands moved whenever music wandered into your thoughts. Yet somehow...
Jin had.
He looked down at the keyboard one last time before glancing back at you.
"Next time. We play together."
Your eyes lit up.
"A duet?"
"...Don't make it sound so exciting."
"But it is!"
"Tch." He turned toward the door, hiding the tiny smile threatening to appear. "...You're insufferably enthusiastic."
"And you're saying yes."
"...I didn't say no."
Somehow, that answer made you smile even wider.
And though neither of you acknowledged it aloud, the practice room quietly became your place after that day—not somewhere one of you happened to be, but somewhere both of you gravitated toward, trading interpretations, debating composers, challenging each other's technique, and occasionally dissolving into laughter when one of you deliberately played the other's favorite piece in the most offensively incorrect style possible. It wasn't often Jin found someone who could truly keep up with him.
It was even rarer to find someone who made him want to keep playing long after the music had already ended.
HAWW Why'd you name me as "🤡 anon"!? and meowdarchod???
that does sound less offensive but.... 😭
I don't wanna dm you, like i said i don't want you to find out who am i. If you find out you will block me and then I know I'm getting kicked at my non-existent balls when u see me the next day 🙏
And I went through your comment sections, you're like so so soooo nice here, i refuse to believe you're you. LIKE HELL NAH YOU'RE THE MEANEST FUCKING PERSON I'VE EVER KNOWN. but like you've got a nice heart thats why i'm here to annoy u 😋
-your so called 🤡 anon
random ig gc kalesh. that explains half the stuff 😊
Sure, like most of the people I'm nice as long as people are being nice to me yk .-.
but yawr my insta account got deleted by my parents because of YOUR fake male id, they thought i was flirting with the guy though in reality it was you ;-;
so yeah thats a good enough of a hint for you to identify me, i ain't revealing myself until you do it yourself 🙄
.....You realise that ain't helping a lot?
You, my dear, aren't the only one who suffered because of my fake IDs or smth
So yeah maybe dm me here if your intention is only to strike a nerve or 2 of mine?
Also, idk if you're the loml or not, but you're definitely a meowdarchod 🥀
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