i think he was imaginary

An observation on Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends.

Mrs. Foster did not give up her imaginary friend. That’s a thing established in the first episode. Frankie is also her granddaughter. So this means at some point a man fell in love with a young Mrs. Foster and had to ask her mother, father, and a giant talking rabbit for permission to marry her. 

i know there are 6329 posts exactly like this but i’m supposed to be studying rn so i’m gonna make my own anyway.. it’s killing me to think about how sherlock is just this.. lonely loser geek who loves his job and loves Knowing Things and wants to be useful and even tho he finds most ppl annoying and exhausting and scary he really does want to help and he wants to connect.. he goes nonverbal when he is shown affection and he’s literally so fukin lost at social situations and he’s still a virgin in his late 30s cause ppl scare him and he thinks bees are like The Coolest animals and he loves dogs and tries his best with babies and kids and he has a periodic table on his wall which he no doubt knows by fukin heart but it’s there for the aesthetic and the sentimental value anyway cause he probably thinks science is exciting and it’s calming how Neat and logical it is and just.. i’m tearing up because of this imaginary geek boy…

ppl think he’s a monster but he proved time and time again that he would give up his literal life for john and he doesn’t even expect anything in return, he just loves him so he thinks it’s logical for him to go to prison/get shot for murdering someone in the hopes that that would secure john’s happiness, he thinks it’s logical that he should risk getting shot if that means he can flip that fukin table and make a fort for john to hide from gunfire… like i’m gonna lose it, who is he.. let john pet his hair and feed him cookies and tea on the couch after he ******* his *******, he deserves it so much, he deserved it from the very beginning, just everyone [chris crocker voice] leave him alone!!!!!!!


Found old copies of Calvin & Hobbes and couldn’t unsee the parallel. Because you know it’s true. Bill Watterson <3.

merlin art tag

Imagine Woozi sneaking out of practice just to see you because he misses you too much.

BONUS: When you tell him that he shouldn’t sneak out for petty reasons like that, Woozi starts pouting and muttering “but I really miss you though”

I want a Hartwin AU where Eggsy growing up thinking he has an imaginary friend who’s called Harry.

He can’t see him but sometimes he hears his gentle voice, they talk to each other through the medal that he always carries. That voice would whisper comfort words to him at nights when he has nightmares, the voice is the only reason he didn’t quit gymnastic in the first month of training, and somedays when he’s in trouble the voice would pop up and tell him “No, Eggsy. Don’t do that.” or “Now turn right, Eggsy. Do you see there’s a small breach under the wall? Yes, smart boy, now stay there until they go away.” It’s not that Harry’s always there, he still has to struggle through most of the problems on his own and still gets into trouble all the time, but get to hear Harry’s voice once in a little while is more than enough for him.

But then Harry shows up less and less when Eggsy gets older, and he learns that imaginary friends might disappears at some point and he doesn’t want that, he wants to keep Harry for the rest of his life even though he knows he’s not real, and he decided to tell Harry about that, consider it’d be the best. “I want you to stay forever.” he said, never thought it’d be the last time they talk. And Harry’s gone without a trace after that day.

Until, he finds out years later that, Harry’s actually a real person. And this real person bailed him out of the police station, then gives him a chance to become a Kingsman agent.

That doesn’t mean he forgives him for disappearing tho.

The Doctor winked at something that must have been a camera, and suddenly, the night lifted entirely, and suddenly we were in a perfect, golden dawn, in a meadow, next to the empty bridge, wildflowers everywhere and the warm sun on our necks. ‘Picnic?’

After we’d eaten, he lay back, sighing in contentment, his head in my lap, and started pointing out the inconsistencies in the sky system. I could have mentioned that he was criticising a replica of a wholly imaginary atmosphere, but I don’t think he’d have cared. Then he stopped in mid-flow and reached up, one of his fingers – they seem, through every iteration, to stay abnormally long; Time Lord fingers are always a dead giveaway – twirling up through the curls in my hair.

‘What are you thinking about?’ he said. ‘You look sad. I hate sad. It makes me itchy.’ I looked down at him. ‘I know,’ I said, and I stroked his cheek. ‘It’s nothing.’ ‘But you should still tell me, River-Runs-Deep. Shouldn’t you? Should you? Is this one of those things I always get wrong, like flowers are GOOD presents and trees are NOT GOOD presents? Mystery of the Universe right there.’

‘Mystery of the Universe,’ I said, breathing out and trying to let go of the idea of that extraordinary thing I yearned for; life that remakes life on and on and on. That no matter what the science tells you, the fact that something alive can grow inside you, something brand new and unique – even though it is made of the same mix of stardust and honey and hope as everything else that ever lived – is a mystery; that every baby is a piece of magic.

—  River and the Doctor’s Picnic at Asgard (The Legends of River Song by Jenny Colgan)