askcleverboy

[askcleverboy]

There are too many people in my damn house.

//it's a party with friends but I'd rather die than socialize which is shitty...it's an adventure being me

[askcleverboy]

Ultimatum Explaination

//Hey gang, so if anyone still follows me you have probably noticed me writing a short story I have named Ultimatum. I just wanted to feel you guys in on whats going on with this page and what Ultimatum is.

//So I work ~40 hours a week on top of school and having a social life and while I love RPing I find that it is hard for me to dedicate time to it as much as I want and I end up disappearing and feeling bad for not finishing threads. My depression and anxiety doesn’t help as I will sometimes feel like I am not putting out work I am proud of and that will also cause me to quit

//However, I love writing and Clever is a character I will never stop loving and I continue to think about him even when I am not active. So I find it hard to just walk away from this page.

//So what is Ultimatum? I wanted to write stories with Clever, but am hesitant to ask for RP sessions as I find myself unreliable. SO! this means I am just going to write stories about Clever instead. I am still up to RP. don’t get me wrong, I am just not going to request it myself so at the very least I don’t feel like I am actively wasting anyones time. I think a lot about Clever’s plot while at work and, since I have insomnia, I have time to write short things after my closing shifts. This means I can probably have a steady flow of content for awhile.

//Ultimatum is going to be, at least at first, Clever’s journey after realizing he can’t be a normal person. His lifestyle doesn’t support it in his eyes and he has made an ULTIMATUM that he will be what everyone expects him to be...a monster. I have also brought in Broke-Neck-Ned as he was a character I loved but did not do enough with.

//if you wish to follow the story I will tag all the parts with ‘Ultimatum’ and I will try to put a link on the page that will take you to just those post.

//Let me know if you enjoy the story and I look forward to providing more content in the future

-CM

[askcleverboy]

Ultimatum

Pt 3. (NSFW Warning)

The cool breeze coming in from an open window flowed over their exposed sweaty skin. They writhed to the rhythm of the crickets and tree frogs that called the forest their home. Clever’s hands kept a firm grip on the woman’s hips as he service her. Her smell and taste we sweet and urged his primal instincts on as he worked. The woman’s nails dug furrows into the flesh of his back and she gasped with in time with his tongue. Her back started to arch and she began to pull away, looking for relief. He grasped her thighs so hard he was sure they would leave bruises, but the girl didn’t seem to mind. She liked to be controlled and Clever liked to oblige her. He pulled her in closer to allow a deeper touch and one of her hands flew to his hair, intertwining her fingers in his locks. The pain of her scratched and of the way she pulled his hair only served to push him farther into primitive lust. Her legs wrapped around the back of his neck, her no longer trying to get away, and he felt her body begin to tremble.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she chanted as he worked and he could feel his own sex throbbing with anticipation for what would come next. His skin felt warm and flush despite the cool night air that chilled his sweat and he knew he could resist only a little bit longer. 

“Yes! right there!” The girl began to sit up and her crimson hair fell like silk down around her freckled shoulders”

“Yes darling!” she called out in ecstasy “yes...CLEVER!”

Clever woke up suddenly in a panic. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. He was in a cold sweat and his realized he had been grasping the sheets in tense fist. The covers had been torn slightly in his grasp. He frantically looked around to try and figure out where he was. He was in the bedroom he had taken in the cabin. He hung his head as he tried to catch his breath. He gritted his teeth and tried to control the pain that was beginning to fill his heart. Suddenly he lashed out and struck the wall behind the bed. Tiny cracks formed in the wood that made up the cabins walls representing the tension he had just released. He put his head in his hands and tried to clear his head. He had been having those dreams for weeks and despite their pleasant appearance they caused him nothing but pain. She was gone and he was going to have to accept that. Truth was, he had been able to keep her off his mind with his work, it was only in sleep that he couldn’t escape those invasive thoughts. He remembered there was a time when he had wished nothing more than to be able to dream. Now he wished they’d go away. 

He got out of bed and walked over to a mirror that hung on his wall. His hair had grown to just about shoulder length and he now sported a full beard. He would have to shave it soon unless he wanted to look like a lumberjack, but he had found he didn’t have to energy to care lately. His eyes trailed down the the letter ‘M’ that scarred his chest and sighed. Mad was something he’d have to deal with sooner or later, but for now he needed a distraction. He noticed a newspaper laying on the dresser under the mirror and picked it up. The headline read “Hidden Valley Burning”. He read on: ‘Three college aged men were found dead in the ruins of their Hidden Valley home late last night. Police say the trio were the victims of foul play and had been burned postmortem. Witnesses called police after the house was seen ablaze from a neighbors bedroom window. Police believe these murders are related to a recent string of murder-arson cases that have been sweeping the area. It is now believed the murders are the work of two individuals after an anonymous tip was given to police. Hidden Valley residences are afraid they may have a serial killer duo on their hands...’. Clever stopped reading and put down the paper.

“ There was a witness, guess we got a little cocky. eh?” said a voice from behind him. Clever turned and saw Ned leaning against his door frame. When Ned saw his face his eyebrows raised. “You look awful, mate...” He glanced over to where Clever had damaged the wall “been dreaming about her again?”. Clever said nothing but nodded. Living with Ned had been easier that he had thought it would be. As long as they regularly went out to sate his bloodlust and pyromania, he let Clever be for the most part. Clever felt like it was becoming more and more obvious that he needed the killings as well. He needed a release, he needed to destroy. “She is gone, mate, you should stop getting all worked up over someone who has forgotten you! I mean she hasn’t even come looking for you!” the words hurt Clever and he snapped back “She doesn’t even know where I am, Ned, Besides I do not wish for her to find me, you know as much”

Ned sighed audibly “fine, but doesn’t she have those fucking shadow minions or whatever?” Ned gestured around the dark room “hell of a lot of fucking shadows here, seems to me that if she wanted to find you she could, let. it. go. you’re no fun when moping about all the time.” The words stung, but Clever thought he was probably right. He realized after the first week of staying in the cabin that he had secretly hoped she would seek him out, but those dreams had been shot down after the first month. He nodded in agreement and Ned seemed to be content with that. “Besides I have some really fun news!” Clever looked up just in time for Ned to toss him his mask. The dark eyed arsonist grinned wide and began to snicker. “I found the witness”

[askcleverboy]

Ultimatum

Pt. 2

Ned laughed hard at his own joke. “y-You get it!? because all of this fucking ice?!” He doubled over and held his stomach. Clever felt disturbed at this man, but it did not seem as if he meant him any harm. Then he realized something.

“How did you know my name, Ned?” Ned stopped laughing and grinned up at Clever again. “That frosty bitch hasn’t stopped talking about you since she put you here, it was pretty annoying if I am being honest...but!...” He gestured at his own wrist. “Now you can escape like me! Boy, that’ll piss her off!” Clever looked at his wrist and saw that while they were indeed bleeding the ice was not melting much at all. “Actually I do not believe I will bleed long enough to melt this ice, I heal rather quickly” Ned put his hands on his hips and stared at Clever’s arms. Then his eyes got wide and a huge smile stretched across his face. He snapped his fingers. “I have an idea!”

He started to fish around into his pockets and found a flask of something. He went over to one of the ice pillars and began to pour it’s contents on Clevers arm. The distinct smell of kerosene invaded Clever’s nostrils. Clever felt his back stiffen as he realized Ned’s plan. Ned pulled out a lighter and flicked it open. a small orange flame dance in the slight breeze. “Now if I were a doctor...” Ned began “I would tell you that this wouldn’t hurt a bit.” The black haired man walked over to one of Clevers arms “but I ain’t now doctor” Ned laughed as he held the flame to Clevers fuel soaked arms. The explosion of pain was instant and Clever found himself screaming. Ned’s manic laughter rand loudly in Clevers ears and he began to struggle violently to get away from his all. After what seemed like eons, Clevers felt the ice give and his hand snapped free. He dropped down and pushed the sizzling flesh into the icy flour. The floors steamed furiously and after a bit the flames were out. Clever was sure these burns would be severe and was positive they would scar despite his healing factor. He looked over to his still trapped hand and a surge of anger entered him.

He reared back with he free hand and punched the ice with ll his might. The structure shattered and he found himself on his knees. The fatigue of unreal and he was worried it would be hours before his could stand. Ned wrapped his burned arm around his shoulders and lifted Clever to his feet. “Nice punch, mate! remind me to bet on you if you ever take up boxing” He led Clever over to a wall and had him lean against it. He then ran over to a chest Clever couldn’t see before and kicked it open. He rummaged around for a bit and then ran over to Clever when he found what he was looking for. He handed Clever his mask and hunting knife. He also held a battered backpack which he unzipped and started to look into. He pulled out a bundle of black cloth and handed it to Clever. “Your figure is starting to make me jealous, my friend, why don’t you show some modesty.” He said jokingly. Clever unfolded the cloth which turned out to be a t-shirt with the logo for some band called “Disturbed” on it. Clever stripped out of his destroyed top and slipped into his borrowed garment.

Ned clapped his hands and then turned to the wall. “Now we have to get the hell out of here, got anywhere to stay? any friends you can call?” Clever looked down at his mask and suddenly felt like crying. “No” He said gravely “I have disappointed those who loved me for the last time and now that Mab may be looking for me...I can’t risk it...I can’t go home” Ned looked confused and cocked his head to one side making his neck pop loudly, Clever noticed his head hung at an odd angle. “Then what are you going to do?” Clever thought about it and made up his mind. He tied his mask on and looked back at Ned. “What I have always done. I tried to be friendly and I tried to be normal, but normal is for humans...I cannot change what I am...once a monster, always a monster” With that he punched the icy wall. Hitting it with all the pain and anger he had felt for years. The wall gave and the outside world was bright beyond the prison.

Ned smiled broadly and looked out the hole. “Sounds fun, count me in” Clever nodded and the pair leaped out the hole and escaped into the forest around Mab’s castle. Clever and Ned later found a cabin in the woods Clever used to live. Away from those he was afraid to hurt. Although Clever often thought of his loved ones he refused to impede on their lives again. He may see them again one day, but for now it was better that he stayed away. So their days began to be filled with killing and bloodshed. Clever sometimes thought that Ned’s arson was a bit brutal, but he said nothing. Brutality. Such is the life of a monster.

[askcleverboy]

Ultimatum

PT. 1

Cold.

It was so cold.

Clever blinked his eyes in an attempt to fight the blurriness that clouded them. He felt groggy and as we woke up a bit more, he found he did not know where he was. The room was very bright and after a quick look around, it seemed to be made of ice. He was standing and his shoulders ached like mad. He realized his arms were out stretched beside him and he looked over to see why. Two stalagmites of ice shot up from the ground and encased his wrist. He looked down and saw that he was very disheveled and his white dress shirt was torn and stained with blood. He flexed his arm against his restraints and was immediately met with a burning pain in his forearms. He stifled a scream and looked more closely at the spikes of ice. He notices that in the hand holes a bar of ice pierced his wrist between the bones of his arm. He now noticed a steam of blood steaming off the ice around his flesh. He tried to pull free again, using more strength this time, but the ice didn’t give.

He heard a sound to his side and glanced over to find another man was in a similar position as he. The man was wearing a black band shirt and ripped up jeans. His long black hair shielded his face, but his frame appeared to be shaking. Clever figured the man had fallen into fits of panic and he felt pity for the man. Clever was about to speak up to the man when he heard the sudden sound of a door being opened. in the far end of the room, a tall elegant woman glided over to him. Her eyes were a glacier blue and she wore a dress covered in little diamonds that sparkled as she walked. She was gorgeous, but she was gorgeous in the same way a tiger is gorgeous. That predatory beauty that you only want to witness from afar. She walked right up to Clever and grasped his chin in her hand. Her skin felt cool, but no where near as cold as it should have been in this room. She smiled and stared into his eyes.

“Well Well, you finally awake.” Her voice held that power of an avalanche despite its initial sing song quality. Clever was immediately unnerved by it. She seemed to recognize this in his eyes and she purred. “I am Mab, Fairy Queen of the Winter Court  and this...” She motioned gracefully with one hand “Is my trophy room” She leaned in close, her hand still grasping his chin. Despite her delicate touch, Clever could feel the iron-like strength in he fingers. “and you, my little killer, are MINE” She practically growled the last word and Clever felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold run down his spine. 

Then she pulled his head forward and kissed him hard. Clever’s eyes went wide and he reflectively tried to push her away, resulting in another shock of pain in his wrist. He let out a muffled scream and Mab’s kiss turned into a smile. She pulled away and licked her lips “Your fear and your pain is delicious my pet”. She let his head drop and ran a perfectly manicured finger down his chest. “Keep trying to escape, my pet, I love it when my toys struggle. However, just so you never forget who you belong to...” She ripped open his shirt and raked her nails lightly on his bare chest, tracing his various scars idly. “I’ll give you something to remember me by.” Suddenly she dug three of her nails down his flesh. The pain was like icicles tearing into his flesh and his blood felt hot as it welled up from the wounds.Clever screamed. She then connected the top of the two outer lines to the bottom of the middle one to form an ‘M’. “There...” she purred lustfully “...now you will remember me...ALWAYS”. 

With that she turned and left as quickly as she came. Leaving him there to bleed. Clever expected the wound to close quickly as they normally did, but this one continued to bleed. If Mab was a queen of the Fae, there may be some fairy magic at work. He heard a noise next to him and realized it was the man beside him. At first he thought they were sobs, but he quickly realized it was laughter. The man was writhing more violently now and Clever could now see that the blood covered restraints around the mans hands were melting. The heat of the blood eroding them away slowly. The mans laughter became more hectic and until he finally yanked free of the ice and fell to his knees on the floor. He slowly raised his head and Clever gasped. The man was pale and his smile was wide and crazed. There was a scar that wrapped around his neck and a noose that he was wearing as a necklace. The most striking feature was his eyes. They were black and dripped some sort of black ichor. He grinned at Clever and got to his feet. ignoring his bleeding wrist. 

“Hello Clever!” his voice reminded Clever of a violin that needed tuning “My name is Broke-Neck Ned...it’s very ICE to meet you”.

[askcleverboy]

Almost missed one! This is so cool.

[askcleverboy]

This is really cool, more people should do this and inflate my ego more.

[askcleverboy]

Another person reading my Creepypasta!

[askcleverboy]

Some people read the Creepypasta I wrote!

[askcleverboy]

I'm afraid of the dark.

*crunch* *crunch* *crunch*

The autumn leaves made soft noises under my shoes as I passed through the trees of the dark forest. Of course, the forest was always dark for me, but the repeatative song of the crickets and tree frogs told me it was nighttime. My cane tapped against the turnks as I walked allowing me to proceed without issue. The cane wasn’t completely necessary, but I found a small sense of comfort in the action. I remember seeing a movie before my…accident…that showed some blind superhero using some echo-location bullshit to see. I can’t speak for most, but I have never experienced that particular fantastical bit of Hollywood magic. What I did have was a keener sense of hearing and smell that allowed me to pinpoint objects and people by focusing on their sound or smell. This did little for things such as above ground roots, so I preferred the extra bit of help that my cane provided. I should also say I’m not completely blind. I can see small variations in light and if the room is bright enough I might see some dark shadows that might resemble people. So when I saw the small spot of yellow light in the distance I assumed it was the house I was searching for.

‘Kill them…they did this to you…they darkened your worls…kill them…kill them…’

The voice in my head began to get excited. It often did this when I got close to a victim. Now, I know that this is not normal and is probably a result of intense trauma. However, if the voice is a figment of my imagination it must be a part of me. The first few days after the voice began to speak to me were hard. I cried a lot. I was terrified. Eventually I got used to it. Then eventually I started to listen to it. It helped me get back at Brad and after he died I felt better. I smiled for the first time in a week.

So I killed more, everytime the voice told me to, I killed and I felt better after. In the beginning it was medicinal, then it was addicting, and finally it became fun. As I approached the small houses back yard I could hear the faint sounds of a TV coming from inside. I smiled because this meant a window was open. My cane soon came in contact with the wooden planks of a fence. I looped the start of my cane around my wrist and slid my gloved hands up the face of the fence until my fingers crested the top. I pulled myself over as quietly as I could and landed in the yard with a muffled thud. I shut my eyelids to block out the small glow of light I could see and focused on the sound of the TV. It was coming from the right side of the house so I made my way over and slowly reached out to make sure there was no glass. My hand made contact with a screen cover and I scowled. This was going to be more difficult than I wanted.

I reached to my hip and drew a small hunting knife from its leather sheath. I carfully stuck it through the mesh near the top left corner of the screen and began to methodically cut a hole in the cover. After the deed was done I placed my can in the inside of the room against a wall and hefted my slender frame into the residence. I inhaled deeply and picked up on the smells of shampoo and soap and toilet water. I tapped lightly around me with my cane and wood met porcelain which confirmed this was a bathroom. The sound of the TV was coming from directly in front of me and now I could hear the added harmony of a man’s snoring. This must be the master bath and the man must have fallen asleep while watching TV.

'An easy kill…aneasy kill…an easy kill…’

The voice was dripping with blood list and I had to block it out to focus. I opened the already ajar door and drew the hidden bad from my cane. My heart was racing and I began to grin uncontrollably. The tension in my face caused my damaged eyes to leak blood, but I ignored it for now. I took one step out of the bathroom…when my foot hit something metallic. The can made a loud clattering as it flew into the rest of the discarded cans that rested on the floor by the bed. The sudden stench of cheap beer told me the guy had drunk himself into sleep which explained why the TV had been left on. Apparently, the man hadn’t been too far gone, because the clattering was followed by a panicked rustling as the man got off the bed.

“Who the hell are you?!” He cried out as he noticed my blade and the blood on my face. I cursed my blindness as I tried to formulate a plan to deal with this change in plan. I turned towards the noises that must have been my victim and I was about to spring forward on the offensive when I heard a very distinguishable sound. The unmistakable clicking of a guns hammer being pulled back. I froze. Guns were…difficult for me to work with it. They required you to be able to read small changes in body language, a feat that I obviously could not do. So I had developed a system. A system that had been created through very painful trial and error, I still had scars from some failed attempts. I had learned that a normal civilian hesitates before they fire a gun. I guess it is a regard for human life that most people have. I find it convenient. Most people take about 3 to 5 seconds before they pull the trigger. This means I have a small widow of opportunity. I counted to 3 and I began to move. The gun roared and I felt a hot sting graze by my neck as I ducked to the side and rushed forward. Another fun fact is most people get startled by a gun even if they fired it which means you have a little time before they fire again. It was in this window that I dove forward and drove my blade through the man’s chest.

Then the gun went off again. The man’s arm was over my shoulder and the bullet came nowhere close to hitting me, but my heightened hearing screamed with pain as the loud bang of the firearm bounced around my skull. I let go of the cane and clapped my hands over my ears. I became queasy and tripped over my own legs. I hit the ground hard and began to roll in pain. It was several moments before the ringing in my ears became tolerable. I got to my feet and shuffled my feet across the floor until I found the body. I felt around for my cane and felt a large pool of warm metallic smelling blood. I grinned again as the voice began to laugh on glee.

I pulled my blade out and cleaned it on his sheets. I sheathed it and inhaled deeply. The metallic smell filled my nostrils and my heart began to calm and I shivered. I flexed my neck, shoulders, and back and felt the joints pop as the muscles relaxed. I am always surprised at how much tension builds up in between kills. Addiction is a funny thing, you know you need it, but you never know how much until you get your fix.

I was about to leave when the voice cooed sweetly in my head

*Don’t…forget…the EYES*

[askcleverboy]

Suspect Profile

Name: Stanley Combs Alias: Blind Stan Species: Human Age:roughly 24 Height: 5’ 11’’ Weight: 135 lbs Hair: strawberry blond/ shoulder length and shaggy. Eyes: Black (8ball fracture)

Identify Features: Black eyes due to trauma. Scarring around eyes from improperly healed ocular fracturing. Eyes may occasionally bleed from tear ducta as a result of internal damage. Typically wears red converse, black jeans (slightly tattered) black and red striped thermal ( white undershirt for warm weather), and a white cloth around his broken eyes (dark aviator sunglasses when in public to blend in)

Carries a sword cane that doubles as weapon and walking aid. Also known to carry various small weapons (pocket knives, brass knuckles etc) for more discreet work.

Methods for killing victims as well as victim descriptions are diverse and impossible to pinpoint. The only reoccurring part is the removal of the victims eyes.

Suspect is to be considered armed, mentally unstable, and highly dangerous.

Do not approach.

[askcleverboy]

Maybe.

Maybe if Stan didn’t stutter, he’d talk to people.more.

Maybe if Stan wasn’t agoraphobic, he’d go out more.

Maybe if Stan was bigger, people wouldn’t pick on him as much.

Maybe if people were nicer, Stan wouldn’t hate them so much.

Maybe if the teacher listened, Stan would feel safer.

Maybe if the principal had done something, Stan wouldn’t have dropped out

Maybe if anyone cared, Stan wouldn’t be a hermit in his house.

Maybe if his father drank less, he’d notice his sons depression.

Maybe if his mother was more faithful, she’d be there to comfort him.

Maybe if he had been noticed, Stan would have felt better.

Maybe if he had been comforted, he would have smiled more.

Maybe if his father had paid the bills before sundown, Stan wouldn’t have gone out.

Maybe if Stan wasn’t afraid of the dark, his hands wouldn’t have been shaking.

Maybe if his hands hadn’t been shaking, he wouldn’t have dropped the envelope.

Maybe if Brad hadn’t been drinking with his friends, He’d be at home like we was supposed to be.

Maybe if Brad had thought more, they wouldn’t be driving by smashing mailboxes.

Maybe if there hadn’t been a bush, they would have seen Stan.

Maybe if Stan hadn’t heard the truck, he wouldn’t have stood up.

Maybe if the bat had missed…Stan wouldn’t be blind.

Maybe if the truck had stopped, they’d have seen the 8 ball fracture blackening his eyes.

Maybe if they had cared, they’d have seen the bloody tears fall.

Maybe if they had been concerned, they would have heard his terrified sobbing.

Maybe if they had checked on him, they could have calmed him down as the lights went out.

And maybe if Stan had lived in a better home, had better classmates, more attention, more help…more love…

Then maybe..

Just maybe…

Maybe he wouldn’t have snapped Maybe he wouldn’t have been so angry… And maybe they wouldn’t have found the headless body of Brad laying on the schools football field.

And maybe if his head had been found, they would have noticed his missing eyes.

Maybe if people had cared to notice the blind boy standing in the crowd of gawkers, they may have caught him.

Maybe.

[askcleverboy]

Maybe.

Maybe if Stan didn’t stutter, he’d talk to people.more.

Maybe if Stan wasn’t agoraphobic, he’d go out more.

Maybe if Stan was bigger, people wouldn’t pick on him as much.

Maybe if people were nicer, Stan wouldn’t hate them so much.

Maybe if the teacher listened, Stan would feel safer.

Maybe if the principal had done something, Stan wouldn’t have dropped out

Maybe if anyone cared, Stan wouldn’t be a hermit in his house.

Maybe if his father drank less, he’d notice his sons depression.

Maybe if his mother was more faithful, she’d be there to comfort him.

Maybe if he had been noticed, Stan would have felt better.

Maybe if he had been comforted, he would have smiled more.

Maybe if his father had paid the bills before sundown, Stan wouldn’t have gone out.

Maybe if Stan wasn’t afraid of the dark, his hands wouldn’t have been shaking.

Maybe if his hands hadn’t been shaking, he wouldn’t have dropped the envelope.

Maybe if Brad hadn’t been drinking with his friends, He’d be at home like we was supposed to be.

Maybe if Brad had thought more, they wouldn’t be driving by smashing mailboxes.

Maybe if there hadn’t been a bush, they would have seen Stan.

Maybe if Stan hadn’t heard the truck, he wouldn’t have stood up.

Maybe if the bat had missed…Stan wouldn’t be blind.

Maybe if the truck had stopped, they’d have seen the 8 ball fracture blackening his eyes.

Maybe if they had cared, they’d have seen the bloody tears fall.

Maybe if they had been concerned, they would have heard his terrified sobbing.

Maybe if they had checked on him, they could have calmed him down as the lights went out.

And maybe if Stan had lived in a better home, had better classmates, more attention, more help…more love…

Then maybe..

Just maybe…

Maybe he wouldn’t have snapped Maybe he wouldn’t have been so angry… And maybe they wouldn’t have found the headless body of Brad laying on the schools football field.

And maybe if his head had been found, they would have noticed his missing eyes.

Maybe if people had cared to notice the blind boy standing in the crowd of gawkers, they may have caught him.

Maybe.

[askcleverboy]

she wears short skirts, i leave a slime trail  she’s cheer captain and i’m just a 

[askcleverboy]

[askcleverboy]

just found out there’s a fetish thing called fin-dom where rich people get off on sending vast amounts of money to people who verbally abuse them and hey just sayin if you’re into that hmu, i got a paypal and i’m mean

[askcleverboy]

Godzilla movie posters by Noriyoshi Ohrai