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creepy-friday · 1 year

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How would the Proxies react to fem, proxy reader having feelings for them also? (This can be romantic or smut whatever you are comfortable with)

I love their dynamics ngl

Creepypasta Proxies x Fem!Reader

|reciprocated feelings|

Warnings: violence,mental illness, abuse,slight suggestive themes mentions

I'll start with our favorite asshole Masky,whose ego would be over the roof if you happen to have romantic feelings towards him

It means that all of his bullying, harassing and abusing you kind of turned out to be in his favor after all!

He wouldn't believe they are genuine in the first place,he thinks that they are just feelings of lust,of passing the time in this fucked up place,he wouldn't mind if that would be the case either

Tim noticed how you care about him,from a simple light of his cigar to the way you offered to patch him up after training.The way you surprisingly went with him instead of suggesting Brian to assist him in a mission,all of these made his chest warm

Masky's assaults would mellow down A LOT to observe you more,he isn't dumb either to your advances.

If you're more confident I see the reader and Masky making out in the woods,giving life to fantasies,but even after that your relationship would take time to be "real"

But,if you're shy and prefer to not make the first move,Masky would continue to harass you until the point he will have a nervous breakdown and yell ask you directly

"Do you have the hots for me or something?stop fucking around with my fucking head"

After this he will actually realise how much of a dick he actually has been and the tiniest hope he had for someone like you to actually be interested in a piece of shit like him would make itself known

Masky will have a cold yet extremely rare moment of weakness with you while Tim would fully try to express himself while also trying to not creep you out

The man will start by treating you distant at first,but he will warm up to you! If you're more "submissive" he would definitely call you "his bitch" and would make very clear that you are his possession

Even if you're more "dominant" he will continue to guard you from the other residents,but he will treat you more like his equal instead of a princess he has to protect

Either way you're the fire of his ice-cold heart

Toby is already delusional,but the prolonged eye contact definitely made his nights longer,both to replay the way you looked at him and the "hand training" if you know what I mean

He knows there's something more to the way you walk and talk about your day with him,that's why he's even more anxious than usual,which is very very bad

If you just realised you liked him and warmed up more to him,you will have about a week or so time to confess before he will have a breakdown and be all over you

He knows he's a creep,a weirdo even (Creep by Radiohead would describe how he feels about you) and would pin you in some place while pressing his weight onto you and asking over and over again if you think he's "worth it"

Let's face it.He's a traumatized young adult who faces constant bullying,death and compares himself to the "competition" who are stronger and "more alluring" than him.His insecurity is more than justified

After the breakdown he will need one or two days to process his thoughts,he definitely needs some reassuraning from you,even if it's small like a side smile or a wink

He's scared of creeping you out and losing you,that's why he would try to be better.After all,he got the woman everybody craves,so this mindset would give him a littttleee confidence

"Lmao,fuck you Masky" eyes everytime both of you walk suspiciously close to each other.Don't get me wrong,you're not a prize but you're definitely worth bragging over with

Toby is also a hypersexual,so except a lot of begging and pretty moans and pleases to do something to him or to let him do things to you

He's a puppy after you,a very loyal and docile one~

We also have the perfect pervert,Hoodie,who much like his friend,doesn't believe your feelings at first to be genuine

He definitely knows you're onto him,that's why he comes to you first as a fuck buddy

If you accept he would except you to be "lovey dovey" with him only when you need something from him,so he finds strange that you continue to be warm even without any sexual needs

If you turn off his offer he would actually find it amusing that you fell over him from all deranged people

There are no mind games anymore for a while, he would simply return your over friendly gestures and slowly make your way deeper into his heart with some deep questions,to make sure you actually can love him

Brian knows you're capable of love,after all you're the most human of them all,but he doubts you want to see what is layered past him

For the first fucking time he becomes soft and is actually afraid of losing this connection,that's why he approaches you with a "fuck it we ball" mentality and asks you one night

"Do you want to love me?" he uses the L word after Toby.It's up to you how you respond,but he is set on making you accept who he is and to continue on letting you love him

As always,he will continue on staying by your side,even more so than he actually did before.

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whaleofatjme1920 · 2 months

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Passing Autumn Nights

[Proxies (Toby, Masky, Hoodie) X GN!Reader]

[Warnings: Like, none?]

[AN: also known as the 'fuck me i just miss autumn' fic and LOVE writing slice of life things.]

[1356 words <3]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Moments like these never last forever. Fleeting, careless, and bittersweet, they remind you of a time long, long passed. The moon is rising and a chill runs through the air. It oddly warms you and reminds you of friends that pass in and out of your life just as freely, though in your past life it might have caused you minor concern.

You sit on the hood of this stupid car Toby stole. It’s sporting a giant dent in the side, and some of the paint near the tires is rusting but it’s taken care of the four of you so far. In your hand is a pack of cigarettes. You don’t smoke. You tried it once and hated it, coughing up like a crude imitation of a dragon lighting up your first attempt, and never tried again after that. They’re actually Tim’s; he wants you to hold them to help kick his habit.

Brian says it’s a sign he’s trusting you more and more. After all, no one knows Tim like him, and you trust your right hand’s judgment.

Laying in the back seat is Brian himself. His forearm is over his eyes to shield them from the harsh overhead lights in the parking lot. He smells like pine, the woods, a bit of whiskey but not too much. He’s got his back windows rolled down as he waits with you for Toby and Tim to finish whatever the hell they’re doing inside the grocery store. You all needed some cash, and Tim has ways of getting it without any suspicion raised. Whole registers, wallets, purses, things lifted without so much as a smile on his face and an oddly friendly, ‘have a nice day’ in response.

In your hands, you play with the lighter Tim also left with you. You flick it a few times before finally hearing your right hand’s voice.

“Leave it,” he hums tiredly, not bothering to move his forearm from his closed eyes. “Thing’s low enough.”

You smile softly and cap it before resting it back in your jacket pocket. For a mid October day, it’s only a little cold, which is surprising. You expected it to be chillier. Or maybe that’s just your proxy blood telling you to not register cold the way a human might. There’s scrapes all over your body, some from missions, others from training, only one from The Operator himself. You trace over the heated mark on your clothed thigh and internally wince, remembering when you upset him. “Sorry,” you apologize half heartedly as you run your thumb in slow circles over the smooth box of cigarettes. “Just get antsy waiting.”

Brian hums again in response as if to ask ‘why’, but makes no further move to press. He just smiles slightly in response to your presence. “You can always ask them how they’re doing,” he says. When you glance over your shoulder to peer at him through the windshield, he tapes at his temple. Head talk, of course.

You squint a bit across the parking lot and feel a small bout of relief wash through your system as Tim and Toby step out of the store, bags in hand from legitimate purchases, and well, you can feel the things they acquired outside of legal bounds. “No need to,” you say in response to Brian.

“Get off the hood,” Tim chides you slightly, but he makes no further move to disturb you. It’s said much like an older brother would to a pesky younger sibling.

In solidarity, and out of a love for annoying his leader, Toby haphazardly opens the trunk of the car, tosses the bags inside which earns a scowl from Tim, and then bounds over to sit on the hood with you. He leans back a bit, resting his tired body alongside yours. “Kinda crowded in there,” he says to you, knowing you’re curious about how it all went. “Bit too crowded for a Thursday at 8pm,” he muses further. He runs his fingers through his chopped brown hair, gazing at the night sky. The moon has always captivated him. Reminds him of simpler times. He likes autumn just as much as you do, and this feels like the best it’s going to get.

“What took you guys so long, then?” You inquire as you and Toby listen with half attention to Brian and Tim’s conversation. Something about future work, run of the mill proxy lifestyle things.

Toby rummages around in his pockets and pulls out a handful of dum dum lollipops he lifted. He gives you a toothy grin and nods for you to pick a flavor before he settles on blue raspberry after you’ve chosen. He crinkles the wrapper, shoves it in his pocket and then holds his hand out for you to give him your wrapper as well. He pops the sweet thing in his mouth and savors the taste before shrugging a bit, “you know Tim. That’s how it always is.” He smiles when Tim taps the windshield in slight annoyance.

“C’mon, get back in the car. We got somewhere to go,” Tim says as he starts the car up. Either you two get in, or he’s driving with you two strapped to the top of the car.

“Shotgun-!”

“Sh-oh come on,” Toby sighs in defeat as you snicker in triumph and slide off the hood of the car. You pat his shoulder and then round your way to the passenger seat, settling in and feeling oddly warmer despite not registering you were cold to begin with. You watch as Toby slouches his way to the backseat with Brian, who at first, does not want to move for the former runt. When Toby shoves him, Brian only laughs and tells him to ‘not get your panties in a bunch’.

“So, where are we going?” You ask as Tim puts the car in drive and smoothly leaves the parking lot. You’re always surprised at the places proxies end up. Right now, you’re in southern Illinois right around Ruth’s hometown. You wouldn’t tell her, but you visited her family’s farm and left a small gift. She would say it’s far too much, and even dangerous for proxy influence to be near her folks and younger siblings but The Operator’s always been fond of her. He wouldn’t hurt them. Not while she performs beautifully for him.

Tim props his left arm up on the sill of the car window, resting his head there as he drives with one hand. He’s very relaxed, preferring driving at night as opposed to dealing with everyone else when the sun is out shining. He won’t admit it either, but he loves autumn nights like these too. He watches the lights of the town start to fade as you head further south. “Stopping in a small proxy town, meeting with EJ, then Jeff is gonna tag along. Something about… a farm? Lotta farms lately,” he chuckles tiredly. “It’s kinda perfect for Halloween - I’ve never seen The Operator so fascinated with a witch before. So, that. He said he wanted us with those two, and we’ll get further directions once we’re at said farm.”

Brian clears his throat and adjusts his posture so he’s sitting up. “That farm gonna have pumpkins?” He asks. It’s surprisingly out of character for your right hand, arguably one of the most brutal proxies in your team.

Tim shrugs. “Fuck if I know.”

You laugh softly, “why? You wanna carve some?”

Some part of Brian’s old world personality shines through. His smile, the crinkle in his eyes despite him being older and no longer a college student but a weathered, jaded proxy is visible as he nods slightly. “Yeah,” he sniffs slightly, gaze now falling out the window at the orange, red and yellow trees visible from the car’s headlights as you pass, only to see them disappear as the four of you roll through. “Always liked autumn,” he says.

There’s that warm, gentle feeling again. You focus on your lollipop, feeling the presence of something mulled and sweet. This is as good as it’s gonna get.

“Yeah,” a pause, “me too.”

#creepypasta x reader #proxies x reader #marble hornets x reader #masky x reader #toby x reader #ticci toby x reader #brian thomas x reader #hoodie x reader #creepypasta x you #marble hornets x you #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #masky x you

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scary-lasagna · 2 months

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I was wondering if you could do a sort little drabble about Toby with a reader that has puffy eyes like whenever someone gets done crying but that's just their natural face.

I kind of have this and I'm a little insecure abt so I just wanted to request it😭 if you don't wanna that's fine! I hope you have a good day or night💞

He just loves em so much. I also somewhat have this, so I relate, but really, it's not as bad as it seems. :] It's always hard to view yourself how others view you.

Toby

"I just look stupid in all of my photos!"

Here you were, at 2am, in the middle of the night, while Toby had to get up early for work tomorrow, obsessing about how you look on your social media posts.

"Nooo....honey, why would you say something like that?" Toby's sleepy voice held concern and genuineness.

He sounded hurt like you attacked him instead of yourself.

You stared at him, your lips parted ever so slightly in confusion.

And Toby looked like he was about to cry, with huge puppy dog eyes and such a hurt expression plastered on his face.

You backpedaled, attempting to save your skin and possibly even Toby’s feelings, “I-It’s just, my eyes they’re so puffy and squinty, I always look like there’s something wrong with me.”

This dug you deeper and broke your shovel.

“[Y/N] [L/N], there is absolutely nothing wrong with you or your face or those lovely eyes of yours. Please don’t be mean to yourself.”

With how he looked at you, it's as if you slapped him in the face.

He didn't seem angry or disappointed, just hurt.

"I just don't like how I look sometimes." You whispered.

"You look perfect to me. And you look perfect to others too, but when you view yourself, you start picking at your insecurities even if they're not truthful."

You stayed quiet, allowed the bed to shift, and he cuddled up to you again.

"Try viewing yourself by how others view you, not by whatever you don't like when you look in the mirror."

"I'll try, for you."

"I wish you could see you how I see you because then you'd be so super duper happy and all...." And Toby slumped into you, peacefully falling back into his world of sleep.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #toby x reader #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers x reader #creepypasta x reader

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condensedmelk · 10 months

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Toby broke my art block

If you’re Toby um,, hi🙈

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #artists on tumblr #ticcy toby #toby x reader

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windtowee · 7 months

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yoo what if housewife reader x toby?!! like reader is okay with toby being killer and just takes care of him. cooking him food, washing his clothes, and sometime cleaning after him.

I’m just craving something fluffy this week🥲 anyways have a nice week <33

A/n: Have a nice week too

Tw!

Romantic, headcannons

Gender neutral! Housewife! Reader

Trigger his mommy and Daddy issues because they are going through the roof

He just loves you so much

He really wants to cling onto you all day and never let go

He’s lovesick and he’s not afraid to admit that

He’s just so comfortable around you

His affection reaches the max around you

Masky and Hoodie are just so grateful for you putting up with Toby in your free time as he’s just.. pure chaos

#creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #toby x reader

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crazyfor-toby · 6 months

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hi!! First of all happy belated birthday no idea when you’ll see this but 🥳 I just wanted to see if you could just do some general kinda fluff for Toby and any other of your choosing during like the crush stage

also you are an amazing writer and incredibly creative whoever the douchebag who stood you up is doesn’t deserve you so get yourself a better man bc if anyone deserves it it’s you<3

so yeah that’s the end of my little rant and feel free to just ignore this ask, put yourself first!

-A ❤️

Summary :: Toby during the crush stage

Notes :: thank you so much!🤭 You are too sweet! btw I didn't know which Toby you wanted so I js did High school Toby but I can always change it if you want and make another one for him💟 I'm prob going to add Jeff later but I js wanted to get this out as soon as possible

Warnings :: none that I can think of except for the usual cursing

Readers gender :: None assigned, gender neutral

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This guy is so fucking mean for no reason but hates whenever anyone else is mean to you

He bullies you because he doesn't know how to respond to his own emotions and he has absolutely 0 experience. Plus, he thinks you're only talking to him to mess with him at first

I can see him falling for someone because they were nice to him or because he found them physically attractive as bad as it may sound to some people. But, he does know when someone is only being nice because they feel bad or they are just trying to mess with his feelings he just wants to be treated like a normal human being not get made fun of or have people be overly nice to him because of his disorders but we can get more into those emotions another time.

Even though he can most of the time tell the difference between genuine kindness and people feeling bad, sometimes he may think that people are messing with him when they actually are being genuinely nice because he overthinks everything and lets his bad thoughts take over a lot of the time.

Would definitely zone out while staring at you as he bites his nails and hands... Gets so many side eyes and weird stares because of it too

thinks about you 24/7 to the point it affects his daily life and his mother and sister get worried

He would probably mistake his romantic feelings for platonic at first but when he realizes the only thing that changes is how mean he is to you and I don't mean he gets nicer 😃 your #1 hater and #1 supporter

He's honestly confusing, one minute he'll be thinking you hate him and he doesn't have a chance to thinking he does have a chance and that you have the same feelings for him as he does for you.

Meaning that there's like a 30% he will make a first move on you because you have to catch him in the right mood, at the right time, on the right day which is pretty hard because you'll never know what mood he'll be in and he

He literally just acts like he hates you and if you asked him out or made a move he'd turn it down but then out of no where months later he will ask you out

he's honestly such an attention whore and he only craves your attention now so good luck

the only time he can really talk to you in person outside of school is if you happen to be friends with his sister or you guys meet up somewhere like a park or a cafe which isn't that often because of his parents so he makes up for it by texting you all day

Reminder though that he isn't some soft and shy bundle of joy who is just hurt, he is crazy and is slowly going under the control of Slenderman. He can have major mood swings and will most likely make you end up not liking him for the way he treats you at first, he doesn't mean it tho he's just a lil delulu 😊

Overall, your experience is gonna be a rough 5/10 unless you don't mind his harsh words then it'd be like a 6.5 - 7.5

#creepypasta #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers creepypasta #ticci toby creepypasta #highschool Toby Rogers #ticcy toby #creepypasta toby #toby x reader #toby rogers x reader #ticci toby headcanons #toby rogers #ticci toby x you #toby rogers x you #tobias erin rogers #toby erin rogers #tobias rogers

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grvyrd-drms · 8 months

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at my retail job rn and just thinking about like. how pathetic toby would be.

as in a pretty retail worker would be nice to him (their job) and he'd be like "guys she was totally into me" the entire way back.

tobias rogers 100% is so desperate for love and attention that he seeks it anywhere that he can.

#i also mean pathetic as in he def whimpers #but you didnt hear that from me #but maybe you did #🫢#ticci toby #creepypasta #toby rogers #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #toby x reader #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x reader #:3 #i may be projecting my huge crush on him

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ruexvn · 22 days

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𝙰 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎-𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ

𝚃𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚐𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚂𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚏𝚢....𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝑦𝑜𝑢

𝙰 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

"𝚖-𝚖𝚘-𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔?..."

"...𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝..𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎"

𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎!? 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚖?

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎.....𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚣𝚘𝚘

"𝚘𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢!"

"𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝?...."

"𝚘𝚑 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜!"

𝙱𝚘𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝....𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙾𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝙿𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝙱𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜!. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢'𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜. 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝚂𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚣𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍. (𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚜)

𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜

"𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍!"

"𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚡.. 𝚒𝚝-𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚢𝚎..𝚏𝚛𝚘-𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛..."

"𝚊𝚑 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝!"

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛?

𝚃𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕. 𝚆𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎? 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎? 𝚂𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚜.

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

"...𝚖𝚖𝚖...𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎-𝚝𝚢-𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜..."

"𝚖𝚖!..𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚎"

"...𝚠𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚊𝚝...𝚊𝚗𝚢-𝚝𝚒-𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑...𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.."

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝. 𝙰 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚔 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚙, 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ

#creepypasta #creepypasta blog #ticci toby #toby rodgers #not really a part 2 for the bimbo thing but for now this’ll do #not proofread #oops #toby x reader

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bloodblanks · 1 year

Text

pumpkin head [ticci toby x reader] — chapter i.

After a long day at school, Y/N goes to the park to relax and feed some ducks. A boy that she hadn’t seen before catches her eye... maybe a bit too much.

co-written with @spookyravioli, please check her out! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mildly dark content, including abuse, alcoholism, mental health issues, unhealthy relationship dynamics, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

Have you ever thought about being a worm?

No, not in the way that girls tend to ask their boyfriends if they’d still love them if they were a worm. Like, actually just being a worm. Being a cute, weird, squiggly little thing inching its way forward on the ground.

Because Y/N was doing so right now.

Y/N was staring at the ground, eyes beholding the sight of precisely three worms wiggling their way around the freshly rained-upon earth. It was odd, but she felt compelled to keep her eyes on the worms, watching them intently, not wanting to look up and away.

She was sitting on a swing, old and rackety and looking as if it was on the verge of collapse. Her beat-up shoes dug into the softness of the mud as she propelled herself forward, cringing at the creaking noise each movement made. The wooden seat was still damp from the humidity that lingered in the air, and the same moisture soaked through her clothes, causing them to cling uncomfortably to her body.

But what drew attention was the plastic pumpkin that covered her head, the only dry part of her right now. The pumpkin fully encased her head, leaving her eyes as the only thing visible, shining through the darkness inside. They were her most striking feature, being her only feature that was visible to others. Other than that, her head was just that of the pumpkin’s cheap plastic orange shell, merging seamlessly with the rest of her body almost as if it were natural.

The hollow inside of the pumpkin was nonetheless a bit stuffy, especially with the humid weather, but it also shielded her from the cold and gave her a certain pressure that kept her grounded to the earth. Without it, she would feel as if she was adrift at sea or perhaps like a ghost suspended in the air rather than a human being with corporal mass and weight. In some ways, she found the pumpkin to be an anchor, keeping her at bay and preventing her from drowning in the stresses of life. Granted, the pumpkin head was by no means physically comfortable, often causing her to sweat or feel like she was breathing her own breath over and over, but she wouldn’t want it any other way.

But that wasn’t her problem right now because, despite the general unpleasantness of being rained upon and the slight condensation building up inside the hollow pumpkin, she found peace in the moment.

What truly bothered her, though, more than the moistened seat of the swing, more than the dirt caking up on her shoes, more than the stuffiness of the pumpkin head, was that as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stare at the soil forever. So she forcefully tore her gaze away from the worms, lifting her head back up, the scenery changing to one of the forest that started at the ends of her backyard.

Staring out into the vastness of the woods, her eyes examined the various tones of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns that had fallen off the trees, carried through the air by the September winds.

It’s beautiful, she thought, watching the animals scurry about on the ground, the birds chirping joyfully and singing in tune. It was a calming atmosphere, with the earthy scent that comes after rain filling the air, inhaled along with each breath of oxygen.

But that wasn’t what her eyes searched for.

No, they were looking for something else, something different. She didn’t know what exactly she was looking for; all she knew was that what she was searching for was not something harmonious with the ever-so-fascinating ecosystem before her eyes.

What she looked for was something far more sinister. Something insidious, shadowing over her life with every step she took, its mere presence strong enough to throw everything out of balance.

Its gaze, empty and hollow and cast upon her entire being. She shivered, feeling a chill run down each individual section of her spine.

Even if that thing wasn’t even there to begin with, even if it was all in her head, the thought of it staring at her at this moment, analyzing and scrutinizing her for all she was worth, was enough for her to want to bury herself underneath the ground, lying there forever and hidden from its gaze.

Quickly, she dropped her eyes, lowering them back to the ground, back to the worms.

Soon, the worms would be gone, unseen until the next rainfall. Burrowing into the earth, tunnelling through the dirt in search of nutrients, blissful and happy with their simple lives under the ground. Away from its watch. Their only worry being the birds that soared high above, waiting for the perfect moment to sweep down on their prey or the higher-ranking insects on the food chain.

However, she would have to stay there, stay in that rusty old swing set, waiting for her mother to finish making breakfast before she would leave for an even bigger ecosystem: high school. Y/N didn’t have the luxury of hiding away in the ground, the luxury of leaving once things became too difficult; instead, she was forced to face her problems on the daily, dealing with them from behind that measly plastic pumpkin on her head. And even then, after she’d finished the school day, she couldn’t be shielded away from the presence that haunted her so often, the presence that she had been searching for just minutes ago.

What she wouldn’t give to be a worm right now.

“Y/N, breakfast is ready!”

The sound of her mother’s voice snapped Y/N out of her quickly spiralling thoughts, causing her to hop off the swing and then make her way towards the backdoor of her house. Now she would have other problems to deal with, other things to focus on other than that ominous presence that ingrained itself into her mind every day, taunting her with the absence of knowledge as to what it is, rendering her to merely a puppet longing to see its master, yet only able to face the audience.

The brisk air, the grey puffs of clouds, and the worms crawling about the ground were left behind as she entered the house, shutting the door behind her, replacing it with the warmth of the indoors. As she took her shoes off, replacing them with slippers that gently tapped against the tiled floor, that was now the only thing that engulfed her mind, her eyes zoning in on the kitchen table before her. It was almost as if she was ignoring the world around her, with the way she sat down on the chair and looked straight at her plate in silence.

Through the hollow eyes of the plastic pumpkin that surrounded her head, she stared at the food in front of her, her eyes widening with joy, practically sparkling as she gazed at the sight before her. And through the rigid shell of the pumpkin’s exterior, she was able to shut out the man sitting beside her at the end of the table, shut out the words that spilled out of her mother’s mouth as she finished setting the table.

Shut out the world around her, just as it was intended to do. Because sometimes the world got a bit too heavy, a bit too overwhelming, a bit too much for her to handle. Because sometimes her surroundings alone were enough to overstimulate her. The plastic pumpkin served perfectly as a divider between her and the world, shutting her into her own little space, able to safely interact with the rest of her world through invisible glass panels.

And she knew it was strange; she knew that she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Everyone else did too. That didn’t stop her, however. She still kept it on at almost all times, to the point where even her teachers had given up on trying to get her to take it off at school.

Back to breakfast, though.

Her mom had made pancakes, and she couldn’t take her eyes off them, taking in every little detail that seemed to make her head fuzzier by the minute. The way the maple syrup dripped off the sides of the neatly stacked pancakes, the way the slices of bananas laid on top, complementing the glistening brown syrup with their soft yellow colour, the way the texture was so light and fluffy, enticing her, beckoning her to stab into them with her fork, squish them in her mouth…

Oh, and the scent, the scent was ever so divine, a heavenly blend of banana, maple, and freshly made pancake that sent her straight to cloud nine.

There was not a single person in the world who made pancakes as well as her mother did; she was sure of that. Not even Gordon Ramsey could compete. They were so ethereal that the man beside her had to snap his fingers in front of her face to snap her out of her trance.

Y/N jerked her head up at the source, turning towards the smiling man, John, her stepfather, with confusion and slight embarrassment, remembering how her mother was talking, and she hadn’t listened to a single word of it. She worried then that perhaps it was something important.

“Everything alright, kiddo? You looked kind of spaced out there.” John’s voice rang in her ears as she stared into his mocha brown eyes that mimicked that of freshly poured hot cocoa.

Y/N paused for a moment, processing his words in her mind.

“I’m okay,” she stated, her voice so soft that it was almost a whisper, yet she knew the man heard her clearly. Returning to her breakfast, now picking up her fork and beginning to eat, she lifted the edge of the plastic pumpkin up and over her mouth, stopping just above her nose.

“Are you sure? You don’t think it’d be easier to eat if you took that thing off?” John asked while raising an eyebrow.

“I guess, yeah.” Y/N agreed with him, hoping it’d get the interaction over faster. It didn’t.

“I mean, doesn’t it get stuffy in there?” John questioned again, taking a sip of his coffee, yet he didn’t take his eyes off her, making Y/N slightly shrink into her seat.

“No, I’m fine.” was the only thing that left her mouth, unsure what else to say.

“Alright, whatever you think, kiddo.” John shrugged, but luckily that was the end of it, his final remark said before he went back to face her mother.

With a small sigh leaving her lips, Y/N returned to her food, yet she couldn’t truly indulge in it like she previously wanted to, almost as if the magic had dissipated, leaving her with nothing but a bleak morning breakfast. Y/N could feel the occasional glances from John, glances so quick that she could barely decipher them, yet she knew it was something that had to do with her, causing her to shrink more into her seat. What was once delectable flavours bursting in her mouth was now just the chewing of food, each bite more tiring and boring than the last; the fluffiness of the pancakes having seemingly evaporated, leaving her with something that felt akin to rubber.

It didn’t matter. She just needed to finish breakfast and catch the bus to school.

That’s why she was even there in the first place.

—

The room was cold. That was the only thing she thought of as she stood in the school gymnasium. While the flimsy t-shirt and mandatory long shorts that reached her knees did little to protect her from the blasting A.C., her pumpkin head kept her face warm and safe, the feeling resembling the one she got from laying under her weighted blanket and curling up underneath the comforting pressure.

She was in her last period, P.E., sitting on the bench with all the other girls, waiting for the teacher to finish droning on about the benefits of dodgeball. She glanced to the other side of the gymnasium—the boys were already destroying one another, each hurling the ball with such force as if trying to surpass the speed of light. The loud sounds of laughter and yelps of pain felt overwhelming for Y/N, but thanks to the pumpkin head, she was able to shut it out, rendering the sounds to mere background noise.

It was both scary and amusing how the day could pass by so quickly. It seemed like just a few minutes ago, she was still in her first period, staring out the window, gazing out towards the grey morning skies. Now it was already afternoon, and she couldn’t see it, but the rainclouds indeed would have lifted, revealing the brilliant glow of the sun beneath.

“Alright girls, pick your teams!” the coach instructed, finally finishing her spiel. Two girls—it was the same ones each time—stood up and took turns picking from the other girls on the bench, making their teams.

Y/N was never much of a fan of dodgeball or sports in general. The idea of having balls hurled at you didn’t exactly appeal to her, and she didn’t think her hand-eye coordination was the best either. Still, it was mainly the pressure of constantly being alert and moving around that was overwhelming to her. Perhaps she was just lazy, but the thought of her having to dart around, dodging scary foam or rubber—she wasn’t sure—balls was already intimidating, causing her to already want to slump down and lie on the floor. Maybe even play dead.

From what she could tell, most girls felt the same way as her, except for the few that took P.E. a bit too seriously.

She didn’t have a choice here, though, as she was now standing on one side of the gymnasium with her team, the fear of the ball colliding with her body making her tremble uncomfortably.

The game started with a blow from the teacher’s whistle. Some of the girls opposing her dashed towards the center line, picking up their balls while Y/N remained in the back, hoping that she could avoid the crossfire.

Then one of the girls who did, in fact, take P.E. far too seriously (and also did not like Y/N very much) picked up their ball and glanced at her, the way an eagle would lock its eyes on its prey, and at that moment she knew she couldn’t escape. She tried to prepare herself to dodge, but as soon as the ball left the other girl’s hand, she realized her body’s response was neither to fight nor to flight but to freeze.

So there she stood, like a deer still before the headlights of a car that was about to come crashing into them.

And just like that car, the ball was flying towards her, soon to slam into her chest.

And just like that deer, Y/N fell backwards, her tailbone painfully hitting the smooth gymnasium floor, her elbows sliding against it. She couldn’t breathe, the ball having effectively winded her, and everything felt like too much at that moment—the burn from the friction against the ground, the jolt of discomfort that shot up her tailbone straight into her spine, and the feeling of the ball ramming into her ribcage all replaying over and over. It was sensory hell.

The girl who had hit her was walking towards Y/N, stopping a few feet before her. Some of the other girls had paused their playing and were now glancing over at the scene.

“Whoops, sorry.” the girl apologized, but Y/N could tell that she didn’t really mean it, with the way she looked to the side as she said those words, her voice monotone, not conveying either care or regret for the situation; it was glaringly apparent that she did it intentionally and only apologized in fear of the consequences.

And so, Y/N forced herself to sit up with a struggle, slightly wincing at the movement of her muscles.

“It’s fine,” she muttered quietly, getting up and walking towards the bench.

It was what she had wanted originally, to sit on the bench and wait until school was over, but the sight of seeing the other girls having fun playing without her was ever so slightly painful. It was a fun that wasn’t present when she was there with them, a fun that she couldn’t have because she was weird, she was weak.

And she knew that’s what everyone else thought of her, as well. While she wasn’t bullied in school, nor harassed, which she was grateful for, she also couldn’t ignore the strange looks they gave her, the way they hesitated before speaking to her, the whispers behind her back when they thought she wasn’t listening, and worst of all, the snide comment someone would make every once in a while.

‘Weirdo.’ That was the word she heard the most often, but that was from her fellow students. ‘Childish’ was the one most often used by the teachers, as they shook their heads in disapproval of her wearing her pumpkin head at school, calling her mother up for a meeting occasionally to discuss Y/N’s ‘unsociable behaviour.’

Sometimes, she just wanted to tear the pumpkin off her head so that she could walk like all the others, talk like all the others, and live like all the others. And she had tried to do so, she had tried so many times, over and over and over, but every time she tried, she felt so vulnerable, she felt so defenceless.

She felt like a baby bird, freshly hatched from its egg, featherless and unable to fly, just prey for larger animals to feed upon.

So, she wore it for comfort, even if that meant sitting on the bench alone.

—

The crisp September wind was ever so present, making her bring her knees up to her chest as she sat on the wooden park bench, bundling herself up tightly within her own clothing.

In her hands were some uneaten crackers from lunch, and at her feet were some happy ducks quacking for more of said crackers. It made her chuckle, the way they resembled little babies cooing at their mothers, their happiness reflecting in how they waddled closer step by step, like a toddler learning to walk. Y/N felt special, seeing how they were willing to leave the comfort of the pond behind them, walk up to her for food, trusting her like they always did.

And she had rightfully earned it, crumbling the cracker within her closed fist and opening it to throw the crushed pieces towards them, watching them rush towards the food.

She found it a bit pathetic that she felt more of a connection to the ducks in the local park than the peers in her school, but like her pumpkin head, it brought a particular type of comfort to her that nothing else could.

And just like everything else today, that comfort was taken away from her.

Her pleasant moment of serenity was shattered by the sound of a boy laughing at one of the ducks, which had just aggressively ripped a large piece of bread out of his pale hands. The sound was accompanied by the teasing of an older girl, saying how even ducks could beat him for a piece of bread. It was a melody of an interaction that Y/N had never experienced before—the playful teasing of someone instead of subtle, passive-aggressive comments that would confuse her on whether they were jokes or real insults.

Her eyes darted toward and focused on the source of the sound from behind the safety of her pumpkin head, like a cat experimenting with a small piece of yarn.

She could see them clearly, at the other end of the pond; a boy, a girl, and an older woman who Y/N assumed to be their mother.

The mother was sitting on the bench opposing her, watching her children give bread to the ducks and enjoy themselves. A soft yet tired look graced her features; it reminded Y/N of her own mother, who often donned that expression. Her brown hair was tied up neatly in a bun, and her green eyes were reminiscent of the rich colour of summer’s leaves. She was sitting elegantly with her maroon coat and black boots, complete with a beige scarf; Y/N would even say she was overdressed for the weather.

The girl appeared to be a young adult, older than the boy, who appeared to be about her age but not by much, likely his older sister. Her long, platinum blonde hair was tied into a low ponytail, brilliant and shining and impressively long, falling down to her waist in soft waves, her hair reminding her of Rapunzel. She wore a white sweater, cropped short at her waist, with a pair of baby blue jeans that weren’t too tight but at the same time still hugged her curves well; she resembled one of those girls in the magazines you’d see in the store. And her eyes, those light green eyes, were similar to her mother’s; only hers were brighter, like the green grass of a springtime meadow. She was nothing short of gorgeous.

However, no one caught her attention more than the boy.

Freckles adorned his pale skin, pale to an unnatural, concerning degree. If she was younger and still believed that vampires existed, perhaps she would have suspected he was one. Y/N could only assume that he didn’t go out much. His hair was brown and fluffy, tousled and she couldn’t help but find herself yearning to run her fingers through it, to feel if his chocolate brown locks were as soft as they looked. He was dressed in much more plain attire, unlike his mother and sister; he wore a thick striped sweater with the colours of the season, autumn. Aside from the sweater, he only wore some wide-length jeans, darker blue and much more casual and looser than what his sister had on. He looked cute in a strange way. And his eyes, bold and with a fiery spark of amber, practically taking on a golden glow, she couldn’t resist staring at them even though she had learned that it was rude to stare.

It got worse the moment they made eye contact.

His eyes were mesmerizing, drawing her in; so many emotions in one glance alone that made her breath fall short. Even if they were narrowing, confusion and irritation now painted on his face, she couldn’t bring herself to stop staring. It was like she was paralyzed, like she was staring at the scene of a car crash, knowing that she should look away yet not being able to, her body trembling as he was now whispering to his mom and sister, both of them also looking at her with discomfort.

At that very moment, Y/N felt an assortment of feelings.

On the one hand, she was afraid. He was like everyone else, a seemingly ordinary teenage boy just hanging out with his family by the park, likely now creeped out from being stared at by a stranger with a pumpkin head for a face. Now that she thought about it, she was surprised that he didn’t stare at her sooner; most people did. Perhaps now he and his family would leave, uncomfortable with her presence, or maybe he’d start making fun of her to his family, jeering at her appearance and calling her what she was—a weirdo that didn’t know not to stare.

But on the other hand, she was utterly and entirely captivated. She couldn’t stop looking at him even if his reaction was negative. She had never met someone so enthralling; never in the sixteen years she had lived in this town had she seen someone so oddly entrancing. She concluded from that that he must be new, seeing as she had lived in this town her whole life and had never seen him once before. Rarely did they have newcomers in this small town. Thoughts blossomed in her head about who he might be and why he was here.

It was a bizarre feeling. Was this what her stepfather referred to when he spoke of his hormonal teenage years? She didn’t know.

But what she did know was that the boy had stepped away from his family and was now circling around the pond, marching his way directly towards her, sending her straight into a newfound state of panic, her body freezing against her will. At that moment, she was sent back into P.E. class all over again, but this time he was the dodgeball. A beguiling, enchanting dodgeball, but terrifying and approaching her at a rapid pace nonetheless.

And like in P.E., she was paralyzed, continuing to helplessly stare, all the while trembling in her spot as he neared her, stopping a few feet before her and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What are you staring at?”

next chapter soon...

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