Crahses Into Ur Inbox What Kind Of Music Do U Thrink Toby Would Listen 2

Creepypasta wallpapers 🤸‍♀️

Top 3 fav creepypasta characters of mine 😋

Edit: Y’all can use these. You have my permission.

P. S. The B. E. N. one can be used like an upside down wallpaper since I intended for it to be that way

‼️NO REPOSTS‼️

i think toby would have a flip phone and he dramatically slams it shut when he ends a call

omfg. mean girl toby. he's so annoying . prob throws his phone when he's mad too.

Back to our regularly scheduled universe. More Jeff go figure, + some doodles and concepts for a comic I wanna try

🧺 — Laundry And Taxes

chapter 1. // (prologue)

“Oh darling, please believe me~”

Toby’s dark eyes fluttered open as he jolted up, his hand pressing over his chest as he caught his breath. He could hear The Beatles blaring from an old boombox stereo in the room next to him. He could hear a familiar voice humming alongside in a pretty tune.

“I’ll never do you no harm~”

The soft sun shone through the bedroom window as his hands dropped and gripped the sheets of the bed he sat on. The boy eyed his surroundings, a sick feeling bubbling up in his stomach as he nearly threw up.

What was he doing in his childhood room?

He raised a shaking hand up to his face and let his fingers run over the gash that once scarred his cheek, quickly noticing it was no longer there. He was now once again seventeen years old, and everything was fine.

A million thoughts raced through his mind, paralyzing the boy's trembling body as he struggled to breathe. The warm rays of sunshine danced on his pale skin, and the chirping birds outside accompanied the muffled music. The same records his sister would always play.

His sister.

Toby suddenly threw his body out of his bed and scampered down the hall, almost breaking down the door as he forced himself into his sister's room.

“Lyra-”

“What are you doing?” The girl scolded her little brother, she had been cleaning her room while singing along to her favorite album.

Hesitantly, Toby collided his body against his sisters, gripping mindlessly onto her as though he was desperately seeking confirmation she was real, and not another hallucination. She smelt like peach juice and beach. She felt warm, and alive. Her arms cradled the boy who was overcome by dizziness, he felt as if he was about to faint. As he stared into her familiar green eyes, he ignored her confused gaze. She was as beautiful as he remembered. It took everything in him to fight back a sob, to collapse into her arms and weep. All he could do was stare, take in her entire presence that had been so cruelly taken from him all those years ago. He was here, and so was she, and for now, everything was fine. For once in his tortured life, he seemed to be having a good dream.

“Seriously, what's wrong with you?” Lyra grumbled, pushing off her clingy brother, “are you going to get out of my room now? I’m sort of busy here, nutjob.”

He couldn’t move, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t muster up the courage to look away. A part of him was terrified that if he did, she would disappear again. In response to her brother's difficult attitude, she shouted out, “Mooom, Toby won't leave me alone!”

A faint voice from the kitchen called out in response, “Toby, stop bothering your sister.”

His mothers voice, he recognized. It sounded almost angelic. For a moment, he thought he must have died in that godless forest and ended up in heaven. He scoffed to himself at the idea as he made his way to the kitchen to see his mother as well. Toby knew better than to entertain the idea of being freed from his sin, he knew he would never see the pearly gates when he died. Not all dogs go to heaven.

He first noticed how lively his mother looked as she scrubbed away at the dishes, compared to all those years he witnessed her carrying such heavy grief in her bones as she moved. Toby only watched from a distance, lingering quietly at the entrance of the kitchen.

“Do you need something?” Connie called out to her son. Her awareness of his presence took the boy off guard, he stammered for a moment. She never noticed him watching all the times he had done it before. Back when everyone told her that Toby had died in that forest fire long ago.

Toby made his way cautiously to his mothers side and embraced her in a tight hug, causing her to let out a surprised gasp at the sudden affection of her troubled boy.

“I’m sorry mom,” he dug his face into the nape of her neck, “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh- Toby, it’s not a big deal,” she hushed as she ran her overworked fingers through the messy, chestnut hair of her son. As Toby pulled away, he allowed himself to get a good look at her face. She looked healthy, happy. Better than he remembered.

As a proxy, he would occasionally check in on his mother, from a distance. Or drop off flowers for mothers day in the dead of night. Only tragedy had gotten this close to her in years. Only tragedy. He inhaled the sun and sound from the nostalgic world around him as though he were living in a mere memory. He breathed in his mothers perfume.

“Why don’t you go clean up your room while I finish making dinner, sweetheart,” Connie suggested, pinching his cheek. His hands, no longer scarred, lingered over hers before he let out a deep breath and made his way back to his childhood room.

Toby sat down on his creaky, small, old bed and embraced the afternoon environment for a moment. His sister was still blasting her music from her room, his room still smelt like teenage musk and a summer long lost. He was years away from the battlefield, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling like something bad was going to happen. The boy grew frustrated at the hopeless situation, to be thrown into a happy memory only to realize he must have to be stolen back from it soon. To wake up on the ground of that dreadful forest.

Standing up, he peered over at the family portrait perched on his tiny dresser. The photo of his family he knew, with his sister, his mother, him, and his father. To his shock, it was now replaced with a new photo which no longer included his dear old dad. Only Toby, Lyra, and their mother. They looked happier, Toby’s smile was more genuine, Lyra was beaming, Connie looked peaceful. They looked like a normal family.

A few hours had passed before Connie called her children to the dinner table, bringing spaghetti and meatballs to their plates. This was the same table where he would so often sit across from his father who would spend the evening ranting and raving, berating his son for being a useless burden. A haunting feeling creeped up behind him, smothering him, stealing his breath. Toby picked at his food, trying to choke down the anger at the idea that his father could still be alive. All of that fight, that effort, went to waste. He had gotten his family back, but he couldn’t shake the idea that he must have gotten that monster back as well. It burnt holes in his gut when he thought about it.

“When's dad coming home?” He spoke up, breaking the soft silence.

As soon as he finished his question, it was as if a wave of tension choked up his family. Lyra glanced worriedly over to Connie, her body sitting still, waiting for her mother to speak up. Connie looked up quickly at her boy, shock and a hint of guilt mingled on the cracks of her face, dancing in her green-blue eyes.

“I’ve promised you this, Toby, he isn’t coming back.” She smiled as she continued to work at the food on her plate, but anyone could see she was fighting back a sorrow too heavy for one woman to carry.

Toby’s heart dropped, he felt uneasy for a moment. And then he felt relieved, and then angry. In what world did his mother gain the courage to kick that man out? In what world did everything turn out fine? That was when the realization drowned him, suffocated him. Toby wasn’t sent back in time. He was in an entirely different world. One where things work out for the best. One with no war.

Memories from before he woke up in this place flooded his mind like a wave pool. Crimson skies, the shrieks, the desperate attempts to flee. His desperate attempts to find that girl. If he ended up in this strange world, he wondered who else wound up here as well. His tired brown eyes glanced down to his hands. They had no callous, no scar. Innocent. He curled his clean fingers into a fist and squeezed. It was far too quiet, far too peaceful.

That night, Toby laid in bed and stared up at his ceiling decorated with dinosaur-shaped glow in the dark stickers that had long worn out. He thought back to how small he was when they had first stuck them there, his father had to lift him up so he could reach. Everytime Toby thought about his dad, he felt a burning sensation consume him. He gritted his teeth down to metal and ash, he clenched his fists so tight they whitened. Toby sat up in bed, he couldn’t sleep. His brow furrowed as he tried to control the rage that took him over. There was something unfed within him, begging to devour like a hungry dog.

His gaze turned towards his bedroom window to meet the trees wrapping around the flickering street lamp illuminating the night outside. Something about that sight overtook him, and he couldn’t help but stare out into the endless void of the midnight hour. Call it desperation, frustration. As his body fell back onto his bed with an irritated groan escaping his mouth, Toby let himself fall into a deep slumber, hoping he would wake up back into the world he knew. Back where he knew himself. Back where he knew he didn’t have to feel as powerless as he did confined in the walls of his childhood home.

Toby softly awoke as he took in a deep breath of morning sunshine and August breeze. He rubbed his tired eyes and examined the area around him, heart beating fast as it typically did when he woke up, readying itself for tragedy. There was a bed underneath him, carpet under that, and a horribly familiar house that surrounded. To his complicated feelings of dismay, he was still in his childhood home. He sniffled to himself as he sat up and let his feet hit the ground. The boy thought back to all the times he would wake up in strange, unknown places with no recollection of what he had been doing before. He thought back to the times he would wake up with blood on his hands, and how he never knew if it was his or not.

The lanky boy, still in his pajamas, shuffled out of his room and down the hallway which led to the living room. His hands traced over the walls he grew up with, gliding over patched holes in the wall, listening to his sister talk to one of her friends on the phone in her room. As Toby made his way to the blaring TV, he stared at the infomercial for a long while, waiting for the image to turn to static, or to distort as it typically did where he was from. The longer he waited for something to happen, the more he realized it never would. Like awaiting the arrival of a friend who he hadn’t met yet. Everything was normal.

Toby made his way out of the house and into the outdoors. The boy had no regard for his appearance, no shame. He had the belief that he shouldn’t waste his breath trying to please a world that endlessly rejected him. The summer heat embraced his body as he eyed his surroundings. Toby made note of every car, house, neighbor mowing their lawn. He twitched and turned to every bird flying, tree swaying. Every stranger he passed as he walked down the sidewalk of the neighborhood he had walked a thousand times made his fist clench in preparation. His hand would make its way down to his side, ready to grab a hatchet that no longer resided on the belt he was no longer wearing.

As he looked at the large, overbearing forest that he was approaching at the end of the street, Toby could only think back to the last time he had witnessed it in all its mightiness and size. When he entered the woods, all he thought about was the fire. The heat that scorched him, the ash that choked him, the smoke that scraped at his lungs. The blood of his father that he wore like a glove on his hands. Compared to the night Toby Rogers died, the now once again seventeen year old boy felt odd standing alongside the tall trees he had once burnt to ash. The boy looked out at the vastness of the wide green forest, taking it all in, as he did last time he was there. This time, there was no fire, no blood, no tragedy. There was no static. No faceless entity.

“Are you listening?” Toby called out to the endless nothingness. In reply, there was a harmony of birds chirping. A warm summer breeze danced past him. He stood silently, eagerly awaiting a response from the eldritch being who tortured him for years. A masochistic desperation for a sign that he wasn’t left behind. He felt healthy, clean. A cleanliness that drove him mad. It stripped him from all he was. Toby was left bare and small standing directionless in the midst of the woods. He choked back his frustration and turned to make his way back home. There was nothing there for him.

silly lookin people

i love her she's so girl power

I am a terminal Nina enjoyer can I just ask for like,, general headcanons about her? It's ok if not!

Have A lovely rest of your day!

nina general hcs👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

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A/N: my babygirl. no jeff mentions cause its GIRL TIME!!!!!!!!''!!!!

CW: mentions of someone eating her pet cat (this is so funny out of context wait)

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-nina is a total girly girls girl. constantly tries to rally up the girls in the manor to hang out together (has been hissed at by kate). offers to paint nails, help with makeup, gives out period products with 0 embarrassment.

-knows literally every braiding style ever. this bitch is every girl scouts dream.

-is constantly giggling about anything and everything and literally NO ONE can figure out what this bitch is up to.

-keeps trying to befriend toby. constantly asks him if he's free to hang out or what he's doing later. doesn't seem to get that his wordless empty gaze back means "literally get the fuck away from me". in her pov she thinks they're best friends. toby literally cannot remember her name.

-10000000% delirious. i love her but she absolutely thinks super highly of herself. she thinks everyone has a crush on her, that she has a shot with anyone, that she can do no wrong, etc.

-SO. LOUD. everything about her is loud. from her music volume to her actual voice to the colors she wears. you hear her before you see her.

-ayesha erotica defender and stan. im so sorry.

-bounces when she walks. ray of sunshine.

-doesn't kill, but is quite obviously deranged. says just the most out of pocket shit sometimes it'll even have L. jack looking at her weird.

-CAT PERSON!!!!! nina is fucking obsessed with cats. on multiple occasions has tried to keep a pet cat... it usually ends up as someones snack cause she picks the LOUDEST and most OBNOXIOUS cats to bring in.

-i don't usually categorize any characters by race cause anyone can think whatever- but- hispanic 🫡🫡🫡 can't speak spanish for SHIT though.

-nina has the cutest little dimples in the world!!!! most people are too busy getting distracted by the literal gouges in her cheeks but they're there!!

-5'2 and has big huge brown eyes so she constantly looks like this

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i have homosexual feelings for her

another one from inpatient lolz. couldn't have drawing stuff so i used a pen. I have so much drawings I wanna post but i'm too nervous

🌾 — Battle Fields

ticciwork short story

- a boy lay silent atop the bright autumn meadow of the countryside. farmstead and forest still waiting, but the woods of the darkened world no longer lure him in, and horrify him with its dreadful kingdom.

- silently, he wishes to a god who is not listening to remain lying under the warm sunlight, breathing along to the birds song and humming symphony of crickets.

- here in the endless wilderness, he was removed from the world of man, and creature. he never saw so clearly the wide blue spread of heaven coated by soft white cloud.

- his back met the grassland that cradled him as dandelion weeds sat messily in his brunette hair. tired, ladened eyes found a semblance of strength in the sky as he stared up. strange country surrounded him, nevertheless the forest brook spoke to the young man.

- a deep inhale of the reek of the wartorn fields caused the boy to tremble with the wounds of a hundred dying and sick. time has long slipped past him, and he knows only that somewhere in the distance, a battle is being fought.

- brown, earthly eyes grow heavy and darken the world around him for a moment. slowly, he begins to slip away. he, too, will return to what he was. he will once again become a soldier. and he will once again know, that the sweet breath of peace, the precious possession of heartbeat, is only a loan.

- a soft kick to his side fluttered him awake, the small boyish frame hurriedly taking a seated position and faced the leg which had touched him. he looked up, and his gaze met with a familiar, tall and brunette girl.

- “what’re you doing out here?” she spoke.

- “what do you care?” he replied.

- the rolling chirp of a northern cardinal was heard in the distance, singing from the tall trees of orange and yellow. in this torturous year, autumn had come early.

- without another word, the girl had taken a seat beside the boy whose thick brow was now furrowed in disregard. with his eyes, he promised friendship, and they were so young. the winds come and go, the clock that sat itself inside her left eye ticked on, and yet she stayed. sat for a time by his side. she stayed in silence.

- the last warmth of the fall catered itself onto their skin, and the wide meadow enveloped the pair. the mighty sun falls kindly onto their foreheads, and jackets. breathing in, they shared a sense of an upcoming winter.

- “maybe some day you will come back from the war, and take a walk with me one evening.” the clock-eyed girl spoke, her slender arms draped casually around her long legs as to hug them. the boy only stared at her in reply. he had forgotten for a moment what he was, and where he was supposed to be.

- “give me your hand then, i still have a long way to go.” a reply was spoken in a low mutter, a boyhood fear of making the companion beside him run off as one frightened deer might. he was a soldier running away from the battlefield, and she was beautiful.

- “you know nothing of time. you will remain in those woods until it kills you,” her eyes gazed forward into the edge of the dark, tall forest that beckoned, “you will never free yourself wholly like this. the puppet strings remain attached.”

- the girls long thin fingers calloused with years of creation, and destruction, wrapped neatly around the boys blood-stained hand. they interlocked as though they were never meant to be apart in the first place, as if a puzzle piece was being put into its proper place.

- “i need to make my way back now. the sun is beginning to set,” he spoke softly, there was a hint of melancholy that hitched his speech. only in reply did the girl stare out to the orange and red rusted skies as the two watched the sun lay to rest.

- “its going to kill you some day, toby.”

- “that is knowledge i can live with.”

- “take me with you to your grave, then, stubborn boy.”

- a low chuckle escaped his mouth at the oh too familiar scold of his closest friend. he nodded in agreement, joining her in a peaceful gaze at the beautiful view ahead of them. when he made a glance over to her, he saw a hint of deep sorrow make its way into the cracks of her time-ridden face as her brow creased and her lips folded into a frown.

- it seemed that no matter the exchange of words, the boy had an unfortunate habit of upsetting his intimate other. shaking his hand from her comfortable grasp, he stood up from his bedding within the vast golden green fields and stretched his tired body. the sweet breath of life shook sorrowfully from his overworked limbs and a quick goodbye was exchanged before he made his way back into the distant woods.

- for the boy, always a dim picture of a legend. war will remain, and heavy are the recent days. he has no place in the peaceful meadows outside the bounds of the battlefield.

Natalie Ouellette (Clockwork)

THEY TURNED HIM TO EMOJI!!