I absolutely love Creepypasta!! It’s been my number one fandoms ever since and I’ve been a fan for 3 years now. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
Genshin impact. Though i took a break from playing, I still interact with the fandom.
shows like gf, svtfoe, mlp, shera, vld, hh, hb, tcgf, mdzs, tadc, villainous, and more that I prolly forgot as I write this😭😭
Undertale has been my favorite games since I’ve played it. I know everything about it and the not so good reputation the game has (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
About me („• ֊ •„)
Though I don’t really like to label myself, I think the closest style and (micro) subculture is the scenemo ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
I listen to any music but more specifically I really love, Sws, nsn, get scared, the cure, ptv, the academy is, fftl, Brokencyde, the millionaires, ohemgee, freshman 15, falloutboy, set it off, circa survive, and uhhhhhhhh….
I’m 16 y/o
The holy trinity (feminist, leftist and atheist)
Hobbies ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱
I am a very lazy artist. I draw once in every blue moon
I collect stuffs for fun like cds, plushies and figurines!!!
And thats pretty much it I’m very socially awkward so idk👎👎👎
The winter air was cold on my face as I stepped onto the hard wooden deck. This is it, I thought. The Slendermansion I had finally, after all my exhausting efforts, was recruited to be a proxy. The corners of my mouth went slightly up as I placed a hand on the doorknob, the cold metal making contact with my hand, sending a shiver down my spine. As I opened the door, I was met with silence. Pure, frightening silence; the smell of metal and a tinge of blood filled my senses, my H/C swaying side to side lightly. "H-Hello?" My voice came out more cracked and fragile than I meant. I fixed my posture and closed the door behind me, my glasses falling down my nose a bit. I turned back around suddenly when I heard a static chuckle. I was met with a blonde boy wearing a green hat that sways slightly behind him. "You must be Y/N. Slender told us you were arriving today..." The boy grins, showing his teeth. I study his face, noticing blood dripping slowly from his eyes, making his features look soft. I clear my throat, discomfort rising in my chest, and I try to avoid his gaze. He seems to notice and puts out a hand to shake. I look at him cautiously and put my hand out to shake when he suddenly pulls his hand back, making me look like a fool.
That earns another chuckle from him while leaving my face hot and flushed. I hear footsteps coming from one of the hallways and turn my head towards the sound; he's already gone. I look ahead, and I'm met with a tall girl with knee-high Converse and a bloody carved grin. Her purple and black hair was a little messy. She tugged on her hoodie sleeve and walked up to you. A girl in jeans and a simple jacket followed behind her. "Hi! I'm Nina, and this is Clockwork!" She pointed behind her, revealing a girl with wavy blonde hair. She gave a small wave. I noticed the clock in her eye, the exact time and date that was on my watch. A smile instantly appeared, intrigued by the girl. The girl, whom I learned was called Nina, looked down at my pants. I couldn't tell if he was appreciating or judging me; she suddenly lifted her eyes excitedly. "Let's go meet the others; it'll be so fun!" Nina squeals, grabs my arm, and runs into what I presume is the living room. I'm met with a large group of people two men sitting near a window, one with a mask, a piece broken off near the eye; he looks you up and down, clearly annoyed. The man next to him, with a hoodie and a beanie covering half his face, gives you a big, toothy smile; you give him a small wave. Clockwork suddenly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and whispers in a low voice, "That's Masky and Hoodie, aka Tim and Brian." She places your hair back and stands beside you in a neutral position
Your gaze shifts over to a large, humanoid with a mask over his face and what seems to be no eyes, with black pooling out of them. His aura is very mysterious but also slightly heinous. Your stomach starts to churn at the sight, and you force yourself to look away. Standing next to him is a slender, pale young man with a blood-stained white hoodie and black jeans, looking awfully similar to Nina. He had the same unsettling smile carved onto his face, exactly like Nina. He looked at you directly at you his uncanny eyes staring deep into your soul. "Well, fresh meat! Welcome to the mansion," he finished with a cackle. You took this silence to introduce yourself, stuttering over yourself, trying to find the words "u-uh i-im Y/N.." I looked down, clearly embarrassed. " Aha, what an ordinary name for an ordinary girl..." He paused, then smacked his chapped lips loudly, then left the room, walking up the stairs with loud thumps along the floor. I shifted my gaze towards Nina, who just shrugged and then grabbed my chin to turn it towards three boys sitting around a table. I recognised one of them to be the boy who greeted me at the door. "That's BEN," Clockwork chirped in. We made eye contact for a split second, then my eyes wandered over to a male wearing a gas mask and big round black goggles and brown messy hair that covered the rim of his goggles; his expression seemed neutral, and he fiddled with a pencil in his right hand. He had a little tag on his shirt that read "Cody," so I presumed that was his name. I was suddenly snapped back to reality when the boy beside him spoke up. "H-hi, I'm to-toby." he was interrupted when his neck cracked to the side causing him to smile sheepishly I gave him a quick nod studying his face he has soft brown hair looking like he jst rolled out of bed and a scar on his cheek that reavled his teeth, I tilted my head to the side trying to get a better look at it when clockwork nudged my shoulder from beside me. (this is part one lol i have no ideas helppp)
He loves you, he does! With every bone, tendon, vein in his malnourished body. But that doesn't make him a better man. He is strange, perverted- jealous beyond flowery excuses. He's been abandoned too many times to let any good things go.
So, when you"met" in the woods, your hands cupped in the rushing stream to help a small, trapped trout move back out of the rocks, you didn't see him. But you would. Soon.
And he couldn't leave you alone after that.
It started off fairly small. You'd bump into him at the grocery store- making him drop his things. Your hands graze so slightly while you're picking things up. He needed more.
You started to see him at your favorite café. He'd order the same thing as you, offering for two seconds of small talk before the well of coincidence ran dry. It'd take a month of this before he worked up the gall to ask you out.
He'd approached your table with the air of someone trying not to scare a rabbit, hands in his pockets to hide his scarring and fidgeting.
The first date is a story for another day- let's discuss the relationship itself.
• Clingy.
A day apart has him struggling- god forbid a week long mission. Claustrophobia doesn't exist with him.
Every day, he comes home and practically smothers you, laying his full body weight on your chest. His cold, scarred, thick bandaged hands slip under the hem of your shirt, scratching at your sides. His teeth graze the crook of your neck- expecting affection in turn.
There is no space too public for him. He always has an arm around your shoulder, holding you as close as you can get as you walk, nearly tripping the both of you up. He stands behind you while you look at store shelves, chin tucked either on top of your head or in the crook of your neck. His hands sit under your shirt, thumb hooked into the waistband of your pants for a good grip.
His.. hygiene.
Toby was neglected as a child, and it worsened after Lyra died. As such, his hygienic habits are.. awful.
He rarely just thinks to shower. He doesn't change clothes often, even if there are holes and stains- and doesn't think much of it either, unless you point it out. You'll have to remind him to do little things. He never smells like sweat, exactly, on account of his CIPA, but he still accumulates dirt, sebum, and dead skin. The anhidrosis makes his skin dry.
You may have to offer to shower with him and apply his lotion as incentive. He may hate showering, but.. he's still a man. If he gets to see you naked or feel your hands rubbing against his skin, he'll more or less do whatever you want.
In the perfume department, prefers woodsy scents. Pine, oak, tobacco. Don't ask about the sweet smell in his hair, though. Probably has nothing to do with your disappearing conditioner.. right?
Mission safety.
CIPA was a primary reason for his selection as a proxy. An inability to feel pain made him cocky.
He comes home late at night, leaned flirtatiously against the front door with a bouquet that is quickly forgotten as you notice the open, gaping wounds staining his dark shirt with even darker blood. This will happen multiple times over the course of your relationship.
He fails to notice (or care about) his wounds more often than not, leading him to skip EJ and walk straight home to you.
As agitating as it can be, that's how you know he loves you.
And he loves you.. too much?
The watching.
It doesn't stop.
You'd think after a couple months, he would calm down a bit. It only gets worse.
To everyone's dismay, Toby is late to missions more often than not. He stalks you around town day and night.
It starts as checking your location. You gave it to him, it's your fault. That's what he tells himself. You wanted that. You're okay with it, he thinks- so he stretches this logic of permission as far as he can.
Most days, he follows you the moment you leave the house. Others, it starts the moment he wakes up. Crawling out of bed and walking to your house at 5 in the morning. Watching you, soft and sleepy, through the cracks of your curtains. Taking his motorcycle and biking attire to follow your car around inconspicuously.
In his bruised little mind, he just wants to make sure you're safe. In safe areas, with safe people, with approved people. You'd want to be safe. You'd want this. He's being a proactive boyfriend- and that's exactly what he says when you finally confront him about it.
Toby will never understand why you were angry at him. Why you yelled and cried, why you accused him of stalking, a very "a- aggressive" word, in his account. He will accuse you of lying. Hiding things. Why don't you want him to see you? Who are you hanging out with that he can't come? Resistance only makes him hold tighter.
He gets better at stealth after your first confrontation, but he doesn't leave you alone. Even if you break up.
you have to consciously unlearn racism and continue to watch for it because it will come out without realizing. because so much of society is structured around it. shrugging and going "i dont care" or "i dont know how else to say it" means you are okay with being racist and hurting other people with how much you dont give a shit about them.
You really start to understand that the “angry black woman” and “mean lesbian” stereotype only exists to shame us for the fact we get reasonably upset about people wanting to horrifically abuse us indiscriminately. Let’s get meaner !
“Rappers only talk about their money, cars, and clothes!”
Why might someone from a group of people that historically have been denied access to wealth, now brag that they have it?
“Rappers only talk about sex!”
Why might someone from a group that have historically been denied sexual autonomy now brag about their sexual escapades on their own terms?
“Rappers only talk about drugs and crime!”
Why might someone from a group that historically have been denied the more legal means to acquire wealth and had drugs forced on their community talk about their experiences with it?
the worst part of summer is that people get sooo comfortable expressing their disgust at having to see other people’s bodies. they’re always complaining about wrinkly old men at the nude hot springs or fat women in bikinis at the beach. I hate that shit. if you’re not capable of being normal about bodies you personally don’t find attractive, just turn your head to look at something else! and if you’re not smart enough to do that, then at least do the rest of us the courtesy of suffering in silence, because we don’t wanna hear your weird comments. thanks.
