#i like webkins

[starfruitflames]

saw this dude in roblox regret elevator and IS THIS GUY A NEOPET????

[theminecraftbee]

[image ID: the juppet. it has become much darker and desaturated in color, and its shirt is torn at the bottom. the overall effect is a little like it was dunked in a bucket of water and is now sopping wet. /end ID]

this is what a demised juppet looks like btw. if anyone cares,

[three-dee-ess]

my fucked uup little beast . its been through a lot ( got it second hand from an irl friend of mine - boots a little slower bc its been dropped a lot , had to replace the top part of the bottom case bc hinge broke , had to ALSO replace the volume slider , left trigger and eventually gotta do it also the top screen / 3d slider bc i ripped a ribbon a little and the switch broke so i have to keep the parental controls on to keep the 3d off lol )

also not pictured are the zekrom dangler and the zekrom stylus dangler that is VERY well loved to the point the printed on details have near all rubbed off and the sticker is on its way out and i had to put tape around the near tip so it'd click into its little holster . used to have a reshiram dangler but its wing broke and nothing would hold it together :[

oh my god . this is beautiful actually.

modified o3DSxl

[lemon-drop-soda]

So there's this twitter shitpost going around to draw your two comfort characters in that one SU comic panel and I couldn't resist

To quote a friend on discord: pathetic meow meow to pathetic meow meow communication

[nebulare-art]

Small fry/little buddy doodle request also have a nice day 😋👍

heres a Little Study of Lidl Buddy

[nico-di-genova]

Paperwork and Chinese Food

Summary: It was just supposed to be a normal date. Jaime wasn't meant to get so overwhelmed that he launches himself from Jenny's balcony in a desperate search for the air that has left his lungs.

Inspired by a prompt from @averagemartian: too much information. TW: panic attacks

It starts with Jenny. Or really, that’s not fair, because in honesty she’s just the catalyst. What really starts it is the itch at Jaime’s back, where Khaji Da is embedded into his skin, their six little legs like needle points in his spine. It’s the sort of itch that doesn’t go away, a constant low-level annoyance that is now just part of his life. He wants to scratch at it so bad, gouge at the enflamed skin around where Khaji had formed their new home, until he can bury his fingers inside himself and get to the source. He’s taken to picking at his back subconsciously, when he’s sitting down and watching a movie, in the kitchen of their rental listening to Milagro explain to their mother why she’s covered in paint, laying in his bed late at night when he can’t sleep because his brain refuses to conform to anything regarding a normal sleep cycle. He will dig his fingernails into the skin at the notch of his spine, until he’s just there – can feel the promise of reaching that damned itch.

He’s picking at it now even as he’s sat in Jenny’s house – or apartment really, a luxury unit on the top floor where she has a wraparound balcony and a view of most of Palmera. It’s the sort of place Jaime had always thought he would end up, before he realized all of his problems wouldn’t be solved with a piece of paper that cost him six figures of debt. They’ve set up at Jenny’s dining room table. It’s elegant, modern, and made from reclaimed wood that’s been stained and sanded down until it looks less like the notched and un-level version that’s in Jaime’s house – used to be. Used to be in his house, before it went up in flames with the rest of what he had always regarded as home.

Before him is spread a mountain of paperwork. Lease agreements, legal documents, financial statements, all of it scattered across the surface of the table in a chaotic mess that sets Jaime, who is already tense, on edge. Jaime’s name is stamped in clean script across most of the paperwork, because he has been noted as the beneficiary of Kord Industries’ gracious “rebuild the Edge Keys that were stolen from the people who were there first” grant. Jaime went to law school, or at least pre-law, he knows how the corporate paper trail works. If Kord is going to shell out millions of dollars in reparative funds to the family whose home they had first been planning to steal, and then ultimately destroyed, they want his signature as collateral. They’ll take these documents, file them away neatly in a folder stamped ‘Reyes Incident – 2023’, and hand it all over to their legal department who will keep it carefully stashed away from now until the event that took his father from him fades into irrelevancy.

Elbows on the table, arms pressed against his neck so he can feel the reassuring pressure, his fingernails dig further against the notch of his spine, until he can feel one of Khaji’s pincers shift. The bug themself chirps, alarmed, in his head.  

 “Are you alright, Jaime?”

“What is all this?” Jaime directs his question at Jenny, ignoring Khaji. Even though he already knows what the mound of papers are, he’s still trying to grasp that this is why Jenny invited him over. The dinner she’d ordered in for them is already going cold on the plates she’d placed everything on – an effort to feign a home cooked meal. He doesn’t want to eat orange chicken and fried rice, even if his stomach feels cavernously empty, he knows it would taste like guilt on his tongue and stick heavy in his throat.

“It’s just Kord stuff, it’s not a big deal, just some stuff they need you to sign before they release the money.”

Not a big deal.

Jaime tries to draw in a breath, already feeling the beginnings of anxiety threading its way through his veins. It’s a cold feeling, like ice water is trickling slowly through him and pooling in his gut. He thinks of Milagro’s tear streaked face, the way she had screamed his name, like they were kids, and he was the big brother who was going to bandage her skinned knee and convince her to get back on her bike. Like he was going to fix it all. His hands shake, his breathing stutters.

“I went over everything myself. It’s just the standard stuff, just a formality really. We’re still going to give you the money Jaime, I promise.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” Jaime manages, and it comes out venomous. There’s a buzzing building at the base of his skull, a staticky sound. Jaime wonders if it’s maybe Khaji, if they’ve somehow found a way to manifest as more than just a voice and are now buzzing around inside his head like a trapped fly.

Jenny reaches across the table until she’s close enough to brush her hand gently along his bicep. The soothing gesture burns and he flinches away from her.

“Jaime…”

The buzzing grows louder. Jaime looks at the paperwork and it seems to grow in size, it spills off the table, across the tiled floor, fills up the space of the room until Jaime is choking on his own name written in ink. He cannot breathe.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Jenny tries again, still trying to reach for him, to touch him, to keep him tethered here. Jaime thinks of a metal collar heavy around his neck, and then he’s stumbling out of the chair so fast that it clatters to the ground behind him. He trips over his own feet as he blindly stumbles for an escape.

Jenny is still calling for him. He knows none of this is her fault, distantly, he knows that. She is just trying to fix what her aunt broke, and Jaime wants to let her. He wants her to wave some magic wand that he’s always assumed wealth would grant, and for everything to be fixed. He’d have his home back, the photos on the wall, the blankets on the couch, the quiet whir of nana’s sewing machine and the tv playing reruns of his favorite cartoons. He’d have his dad sitting beside him on the couch, and Jaime could curl up against him the way he used to when he was little. He tries to stay in the comfort of that lost place, but the fire finds its way in. There’s a blazing inferno hot against his face, and the paralyzing pain of an electric current keeping him frozen to the spot – forcing him to watch again and again as everything he has ever loved crumbles into nothing.

Jenny manages to grab at him and get ahold of his wrist. He can feel his heartbeat  thundering against where the pads of her fingers rest just over his pulse point, can hear the rush of blood in his ears. Benefits of having an other-worldly bug buried in his spine and heightening his senses, or a side effect of his worsening panic, Jaime isn’t sure which.

 "Hey. Jaime, look at me,” Jenny pleads.

He tries. He really does, but he gets as far as the worried furrow of her brow before he knows he can’t be here and yanks away with a force that must be Khaji’s doing. He doesn’t ask them to get him out, but Khaji is in his brain now, so they must sense the silent scream building within him. He’s encased in the protective layer of his suit and out on Jenny’s balcony before he can really process any of it.

When Jenny screams his name, scared and confused and mixing with the screams of his little sister that he cannot block out, Jaime is already being launched into the sky.  

“You need to breathe, Jaime,” Khaji warns.

Jaime tries, but the air sticks in his chest like a brick. He chokes on a sob and claws at the front of his suit with blind alarm. With the helmet tight around his head and his own half breaths loud in his ears, Jaime cannot think past the base instinct of needing to escape. It is all too much, everything. The itch at his back, the papers on the table, the suit tight on his skin, the quiet sobs he hears coming from his mother’s room every night, it’s drowning him. It’s killing him.

“You are not dying,” Khaji says, factual, “you are experiencing a heightened state of emotional distress. I cannot regulate your nervous system if you will not listen to me, Jaime.”

“I’m trying.”

“You are scared. I understand. But we are safe now.”

Jaime feels tears prick at the corners of his vision, feels saliva pooling in his mouth, feels like he might vomit.

“I can’t breathe,” he cries out to Khaji, hoping they will understand.

When the helmet falls away from him, Jaime sobs in relief. The cool wind rushing against his face chills the heat that has been steadily crawling up his neck and collecting on his cheeks. It dries the tears tacky against his skin. He has always sought out height when feeling overwhelmed. Once, it had been the roof of his house, where he could stand and see the skyline of Palmera in the distance. In college he’d frequented the Wayne building, which housed the school of engineering and also doubled as the tallest building on campus. The door to the roof was usually unlocked, and if not, Jaime would just find the nearest window and open it so he could sit with his legs hanging out over the sill. The height, it soothed something inside him; if he could get high enough he could look down and see the bigger picture of it all. He could feel less live everything was crashing down on him.

Khaji has learned this, in the way that they have learned everything else about him.

“This is the highest you can go without the helmet,” the scarab intones, and then stalls the boosters of the suit so that they hover above the city which has grown small beneath him.

“Are you now able to breathe?”

Jaime tries, finds the air fills his lungs just a little bit easier, and nods, “Y-yeah. Thanks, Khaj.”

"Of course, Jaime.”

They stay there until Jaime comes back to himself, until the fire in his mind is dulled to a simmer, and Jaime can pack everything away neatly. He will sort through it all later, preferably when he’s with his mom and they can lean on each other for support. He will let her hold him as they both cry and he will ask for the horchata she was fond of making him in high school – when homework would weigh him down and he’d emerge from his room past midnight with a headache and an empty stomach. It wouldn’t fix everything, Jaime knows that, but he thinks it could help soothe it all over.

He closes his eyes, breathes deep. It’s quiet here, high above the earth, where not even the distant sound of traffic or music or any indication of life can find him. Jaime floats in a sea of stars, the whisps of clouds, and he feels finally at peace. When he looks back at Palmera’s blinking cluster of lights beneath him, he feels maybe like things will one day be okay.      

Khaji returns him to Jenny’s reluctantly, and only at his request. They’re unsure about taking him back to the place that had triggered his panic attack in the first place, but Jaime knows that’s only because it goes against their directive of protecting him. They keep the suit on him, mainly because his clothes have burned away, but also as a layer of defense.

When he lands on Jenny’s balcony, stumbling only slightly because flight is still a foreign concept to him, she is there waiting for him. He can tell from the way she’s curled up on the patio furniture, hair pulled into a messy bun and biting nervously at her thumb, that she hasn’t been back inside since he took off. She’s been waiting for him. When she spots him, she’s on her feet and in his arms in the span it takes for him to blink twice.

“Oh thank god,” she cries, one hand cupping the back of his neck and the other burying itself in the tangled strands of his hair. The pure relief in her voice is enough to make Jaime melt against her.

“I’m okay,” he promises, hugging her back. He hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck, and holds her like an apology. She’s not good with abrupt departures.  

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs against him, “I wasn’t thinking.”

Jaime pulls away enough to look her in the eye, cups her face in his hands and wipes away the tears with a blue gloved thumb, “Hey. Hey. It’s okay, I’m okay. I just…I just needed some fresh air.”

Jenny nods, sniffles, “Yeah, I know. Your sister told me.”

At the confusion that filters across his face, she holds up her phone in answer.

"I called her. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Jaime opens his mouth to say something but instead it’s a half laugh that escapes him. The sound surprises him a little because it feels out of place. But something about his girlfriend frantically calling his baby sister to explain that he’s just blasted off into the atmosphere because of paperwork and Chinese food is funnier than it should be. Jenny smiles before she’s laughing too, and then they’re just two teary eyed idiots giggling on her balcony. Jenny still in her slacks and suit jacket from work and Jaime in his superhero suit.

Eventually Jaime will explain that Kord’s money feels dirty to him, tainted in his father’s blood and dropped at his feet. It’s more than simply signing his name, it feels like giving away a piece of himself, and Jenny will look horrified as he says it. She forgets sometimes, how her wealth has shaped her worldview, and it’s Jaime who puts that in a startling perspective. He’s thankful for her help, but he won’t give any more of himself to Kord.

“My money then,” Jenny will say, “you can take mine. I’ll move some stuff around, I’ll get you what you need. Just enough to rebuild your house. No paperwork, no strings.”

“Jenny-”

“You need your home back, Jaime. You and your family. This is how I can help, please let me do this.”

The paperwork that had loomed before Jaime earlier still sits like a threat at the dining room table, so they sit cross-legged across from each other on the balcony, close enough that Jaime can pick at the fabric of her leggings covered knee. Jaime’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that he’s started to keep in her room, Jenny’s wearing one of his Nightwing shirts he left during his last visit. They’re sharing a bowl of reheated Kung Pao chicken because Jaime’s hunger had finally set in somewhere between him landing back on the ground and the length of time it took him to figure out how to get Khaji to pack the suit away.

Jaime picks at the rice in the bowl with a chopstick and thinks. The money will still technically be Kord’s, given that Jenny is their CEO now. Which is also another thing that seems insane to think about. He is dating the leader of one of the world’s top tech companies, he’s been in tabloid photos as “Jennifer Kord’s unnamed beau.” It borders on overwhelming, so he quickly pushes that to the back of his mind and eats another bite of chicken.

“You do realize this isn’t going to help the Maria accusations,” Jaime says around a mouthful of food, already picturing how his family is going to break out in that damn theme song when they hear.

Jenny smiles, there’s a hint of relief in her eyes, “Yes. But it won’t be like that. It will be just enough to get you guys back to where you were, and then the rest will be all you.”

Jaime knows it’s what needs to be done. He knows his family is sick of sleeping in beds that aren’t theirs, in a temporary rental that reeks of cigarette smoke. They need their own space back, and this is realistically the only way they’re going to get it – since clearly Jaime’s four-year degree is shaping up to be worth absolutely nothing. And he knows Jenny, knows that she’s one of the most honest people he’s ever met. He trusts her, and it’s only because he does that he accepts the offer.

“Okay. Yeah.”

"Yeah?”

“Yes, but only enough to rebuild the house. Nothing fancy. Just…just the same house, okay?” And he knows it won’t be the same, not in the way he means in, but Jenny understands that too and he thinks that’s maybe why they work.

“The same house, I swear,” she says before leaning forward to kiss his cheek, leaving sticky traces of kung pao chicken behind.

She’s the first to head inside. Jaime stays out for a minute to take in a few lungful’s of fresh air, his nerves are still frayed and will be until he finally crashes into exhaustion later tonight. He leans on the railing of the balcony and listens to the sirens, horns, the drone of an airplane overhead. Khaji unfurls from where they’d been resting inside him, and he can feel them taking in the city the same way he is.

“You are still operating at a high stress level,” Khaji says, and it almost sounds like a question, or at least as close to a question as her robotic voice can get.

“Always, Khaj. I’ll be okay, though.”

When Jaime does finally go inside, the papers have been cleared from the table. He doesn’t see them again.

[frascospecimen]

IS THAT A WEBKIN IN YOUR HALLOWEEN OUTFIT????????????????????

YES!!!!!!!! My best friend who I have had since I was so so little :^)

[lovebiteshard]

thinking about my freaking wife

[stargod]

God, I- DESPERATELY- Need someone to make a 5 hr video essay on the history of people breaking video game economies. I thought about it like 5 seconds ago and now i need it like a drug, its Killing me!

Please!! If someone knows of any videos like this or even if u just wanna tell me/link me one of the tales PLEASE Feeeed meee!!

[tillman]

I genuinely think robo ky is a fascinating freak of a character and I like him more than anything and some of his weird strifes and anguishes well I think I get a little bit he is relatable I like him but also he is just a little thing I like to throw at the wall and I love when he gets hit in xx cus his screws all come out and it makes a great noise . So like . I dunno what did that guy in fnv say about dialectics .

[enthusiastic]

blinkies for normal ppl who don't like hurting ppl instead of getting help / stopping being a bad person

consider supportin me X3 pp $a

even rbing this / my pinned helps :D

[tesla-rip]

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[swandive2estuary]

new Girl released and theres a new page linked on the post traumatic manifesto caard that can be accessed through the ??? page!

felt like trying to dissect it a bit so heres my thoughts :)

i assume jordyn (the one who owns the secret page) is either a. one of the girls, b. the ??? person, or c. both. dont know much about them but i know their background is from this

their webkins pet is also named jerma. they’re probably a fan of twitch streamers

based on jordyns posts, i can gauge that they’re in a mental hospital or maybe a rehab place?

here are some people who are mentioned in jordyns posts:

if i were to speculate who these people were based on the girls currently released, i think xiomara is caliber girl: assuming her password is her birth year it fits her age (2023 - 1996 = 27). i also think tahira might be splitter girl because of her particular choice in movies.

freyja could very well be fainéant girl because of the pronoun usage (fainéant is the only girl who uses she/they only iirc)

nora is more ambiguous but i feel like it could be chocolate-box girl based on what nora chose to draw. (but if you were asking simply off of vibes i’d say irreverent girl)

but ofc the people named could very well be girls who just haven’t been released yet.

but thats just a theory… A Girl Theory! Thanks for Watching :)

[bovineblogger]

Growing up I had a Webkinz cow that I remember loving a lot and this blog has made me sorely tempted to purchase myself another one. Wish I still had photos of my guy but in case you don’t already know they look like this :) Very friend shaped

VIDEO GAME: WEBKINS

i just want u to know that image shot a beam of nostalgia through me and now im feeling SOOO SAPPY!!!! what a beautiful beautiful thing.... i miss the feeling of those wirey haired stuffed animals... thank u so much for sending this to me<33

PERSONAL RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 5/5

[eyelessjackspuppyshark]

Can we get some HCs about your toby? I really love your writing of him 💖

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Yes!! I love sharing my Toby headcanons! I haven’t used my Toby in so long so they may be a little rusty but I hope you like them!! I project on him a lot. I tried my best to make a pretty decent list!! Also thank you so much for loving my Toby writings!! It means so much too me!! :D

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 As a child Toby never exactly understood why his Father drank and never realized his Fathers sudden mood changed were because of alcohol.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby’s Father was a good Dad when he wasn’t drinking though when he was around the age of five his father started drinking more commonly. There’s still are times where his father doesn’t drink. This caused Toby to have a very love hate relationship with his Father, which during the hate period he feels immense guilt for it.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 The smell of beer causes Toby to slip into a panic attack.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby has an ED due to not wanting to eat when his Father was drunk. He never got help for it so he still struggles to eat properly.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 That being said, Toby does enjoys Waffles but not for the fanon reason. He enjoys them to to his Mother often making them every Sunday morning. Which him and Lyra often helped her.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby enjoyed car rides with his sister before the car crash. Though now he has panic attacks if he tries to go into a vehicle. He’d rather ride a bike or motorcycle.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 When Toby was around the age of nine his Father brought home a small cream coloured Pomeranian which they named Sassy. Toby loved that dog and spent so much time with her. He fed her liquorice and candy(Which ended up in Sassy biting his septum but he didn’t care). Unfortunately the Dog was stolen and about two weeks after they got the dog, the police showed up and took her away.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby has an obsession with Littest pet shops due to that being his and Lyra’s go to toy whenever they played together. He steals all of the kids littlest pet shops and keeps them hidden in his room. Often playing with them when he’s sad or upset. He also enjoys Webkins, and My little Pony.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 He’s a huge fan of Three Days Grace, Hollywood Undead, Linkin Park, and Get Scared. His favourite song is Home by Three Days Grace. Listens to music typically on a CD Walkman with bulky ass headphones. Toby is also a big Vinyl Record and CD collector, his collection is massive. He steals most of his stuff from the malls, and he doesn’t touch small businesses.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby is a cannibal! He will often eat his skin and flesh off his fingers, along with the inside of his cheek and his cheek gash. His cheek gash originally started as a small cut which he started gnawing on after the car crash. He also takes from Jacks stash to cook up and eat human when he’s hungry.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby smokes cigarettes due to having a pretty bad oral fixation, although most of the time he smokes cigarettes he’s stolen from others(Jeff, and Tim mainly). His favourite cigarettes are menthols because they make his throat and nose feel funny. Will not vape because he thinks the sweet flavours are fucking stupid.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Terrified to get into a relationship due to having an intense fear of turning out like his father. Sure he has flings and stuff but had never actually got into a truly romantic relationship with anyone.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby enjoys breaking his bones and is convinced that it only makes him stronger everytime he breaks them. Eyeless Jack is fed up with him.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby grows out his hair but cuts it in a wolf cut himself when it gets to long. He prefers it short but Lyra always loved when he had longer hair so he keeps it long due to that.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby is Autistic.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby was so eager to become a Proxy once he was saved, he burnt a proxy symbol into his neck as an attempt to prove himself worthy.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby often picks on anyone he deems “weaker” than him. Making snarky comments and pushing them around. Due to being bullied he became the bully instead.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby enjoys arguing. Most of the time he’ll argue with Jeff, Nina, or Ben for fun.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 He often smells like fire due to committing arson for fun. He also often smells like nature and fairly musky at times.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 His targets are often people who are genuinely disgusting humans.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby enjoys animals, his favourites are Opossums, Raccoons, and Rats. He owns six Rats.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby has Tourette’s although they’re typically worse when he’s upset or mad. His Tourette’s are mainly Motor, but he still has vocal tics.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby is German!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby is Pansexual! He doesn’t care what the gender of his partner is!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Tobys clothes are often in more natural nature like tones. He mainly wears sweaters due to his arms being extremely scarred up from the car crash.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby unironically plays Fortnite, and COD to yell at others for fun.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby sees Tim and Brian as adoptive parents. Also Cody is his biological brother.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Isn’t the biggest fan of Eyeless Jack, he honestly thinks Jack being so adamant about checking him for wounds when he gets back is excessive and annoying. He calls Eyeless Jack “Mom” in a sarcastic way often.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Tobys best friend is Jeff despite them being complete assholes towards each other.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby is terrified of Nina but at the same time thinks she’s hot because of it.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Toby has a soft spot for children. Often playing with Sally or any other child CRP who wants to play. He doesn’t want them to feel sad or lonely.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Tobys iconic hoodie was made by Lyra who gifted to him for his seventeenth birthday.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Tobys favourite normal food is sausage, pretzels, and Onions. His favourite drink is Grape Soda, or Powerade.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Thats all but you can find my writing info here!

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