Yesterday my five year old (read that again, I said five… it’s important) and I were in the car and learning about directions. North, South, East, West. My rear view mirror has an indicator in it and every time we turned we talked about which way we were headed. She seemed like she was struggling to remember even after getting it right several times. She’s been doing this more frequently with a lot of topics she knows backwards and forwards and it’s frustrating but I try not to let her know I’m frustrated. We turned again and the indicator changed to SW and she immediately shouts out “South West!!” I get super excited and congratulate her because YaY she gets it but then I hear a muffled “Oh No.” from the back seat and look to see her covering her mouth with her hand like she said a bad word.
After a lot of questioning about what the heck just happened, she finally admits.
“I didn’t mean to be smart. Girls aren’t supposed to be smart.”
Y'all. I almost broke down into tears right then and there. I asked her what she meant by that, girls are smart! Mommy is smart right? My FIVE year old was getting so upset because she had let it slip she knew things and I didn’t seem to be able to make any difference. Eventually, we got to the kicker….
“But boys don’t like girls who are smart.” She tells me, clearly distraught.
This, at least, gets the little light of my life to laugh again. She knows mommy has said a bad word and it always makes her giggle. I’m seething in rage that she has been taught to hide her intelligence already, but at least I’m not keeping her mood down in the dumps… I guess.
I’m not one hundred percent sure where to go from here. Honestly, I’m not even ten percent sure. I let the topic drop yesterday because I was too upset to make rational decisions and we went home and played Snipper Clippers… a game that requires you to think… and worked on the puzzle she got for Easter.
And then I read her a story about a bunch of puppies trying to feed themselves while their owner is sick because she is FIVE and can’t read on her own yet. She can’t read, but she knows boys don’t like girls who are smart.
We try so hard, to teach her to think, to problem solve. We encourage her when she’s interested in ‘brainy’ things like the set of gears she loves to tinker with. But I can’t control every aspect of her life. I work. My husband works. In a few months she will be in kindergarten and around even more people and children of various ages than she is now at day care.
And I can’t help but think about this child, who KNOWS boys don’t like girls who are smart…
She likes the sad eyes, bad guys Mouth full of white lies Kissing in the corridor But quick to tell her goodbye
Author: amsimaria Wordcount: 7,3K Feature: Jimin x Reader (mentions of other BTS members) Genre: Angst/Slight smut (Rated M) Warnings: Slight violence, Mentions of sexual acts, Punk Jimin, Depression, Swearing, Addiction, Soft drugs use, Smut, (Jimin’s a kind of a Jerk in this part).
Warnings: Swearing, sickeningly sweet fluff, badly written smut, unprotected smex (use p r o t e c t i o n kids!) Word Count: 13,814 (o o o p i e d a i s y) Summary: You had been gone for a week on vacation with your family. It was a Sunday and you were on your way back. Connor had a whole night planned that was centered all around you the moment you get back later that day. Established relationship. (f/d/b) = favorite dog breed / mixed breed (s/f/d/b) = second favorite dog breed / mix breed (y/f/c/n) = your female cousin’s name (f/c/h/n) = female cousin’s husband’s name (f/r) = favorite restaurant here is da masterlist
@angelinabisognin suggested this~! I am so sorry it took forever to write this, my brain was scrambled and I was doing things with my tumblr fam. So, my b babe. Also, sorry if Connor is a lot OOC, I just think that after a week of not seeing you, he’d be all, like seriously, h a r d c o r e uncharacteristically loving and shit with you in private. sorry if it’s really fluffy and shit, I was lowkey listening to romantic, relaxing music while I wrote this; may’ve gotten too detailed in this and I’m S O R R Y! I got way too into it
Connor was uncharacteristically excited. It was something you did to him and he did not know whether he liked it or not. Anyways, he was sitting inside your house, on the large couch residing in the living room. You were on your way home, and he was oh-so ready for you to be home. The Connor Murphy had gone an entire week without being able to hold you, touch you, see your smiling face in person—and he lived to see your bright smile everyday. Of course he got to see your face, thanks to this miracle called FaceTime, but he hadn’t been able to cup your face and tell you how much that smile meant to him. So, yeah, he was beyond ready for you to get home.
His leg was bouncing in sheer excitement and anticipation. You were so close to being home and once you got home, he was determined to whisk you away for a great night followed by something else, only if you were up for it. He wouldn’t ever force you into sex if you didn’t want it. “God, when is that dork coming home? She said fifteen minutes ago twenty minutes ago,” he growled to himself, combing a hand through his long brown hair.
Everyone knew that Connor could be quite impatient when it came to you. Of course, being away from you for a week didn’t help at all. But, your parents were so dead-set on visiting family a few states over and even though you didn’t want to go, they forced you. You were old enough to either stay home alone or stay with someone, but they made you go anyways. Connor knew it irked you that they would not let you stay with anyone even by yourself and it irked him, too. He had wanted you to stay with him and his family, and of course they said ‘no’.
To celebrate your return from a week of MIA, Connor was going to take you to your favorite restaurant for dinner. Then, after dinner, he planned to take you stargazing at the park just outside of town. Stargazing was, after all, your favorite past-time to do together. In fact, stargazing had been your first, official, date—on his roof, nonetheless. It was totally classy, but still, you loved it. Truth-be-told, he may have a weakness for seeing you gazing up at the star-speckled night sky, eyes twinkling and full of wonder and excitement, as you seemingly glowed in the pale moonlight. He smiled to himself as he clearly remembered your first date.
He looked down at his phone and saw a new message from you.
From: Dork Sorry we aren’t home yet, Con! There was an accident on the highway that stopped up traffic real good, I’ll be home in like 45 mins now! I’m sorry, I know how much you want me to be home! ily so much con and can’t wait to get back home to you! see ya soon❤️
“Great!” he growled to himself. He was pissed now, but he knew there was nothing he could do. As he brooded to himself, your two dogs bounded up to the couch, waving their tails. “Oh, hey Cleo, hey Marri, do you two need to fucking go outside?” he asked, somewhat being calmed by their presence.
You loved your (f/d/b) and your (s/f/d/b) almost as much as you loved Connor, and boy did he know it. You would always gush over them when the both of your were at your house, and they would constantly steal his cuddles. And even though he would sometimes get jealous of the attention you gave them, they were too cute to stay mad at. Marri, your (f/d/b) and oldest dog, barked at him, as if to say ‘yes I need to go outside please’. Cleo, your (s/f/d/b) and youngest dog, barked after Marri.
“So that’s a yes, got it. Come on you mutts,” he said to himself. Pushing himself off of the couch, he made his way over to your home’s backdoor. Marri and Cleo followed on his heels. As soon as he opened the door, your dogs almost took out his knees as they bolted outside. They turned to face him, both waging their tails and seemingly smiling at him. “Yeah, yeah, you bitches are welcome,” he laughed to himself as he closed the door.
Meanwhile, you were stuck in a car with your parents, blasting your Spotify in your ear to drown out your parents boring back and forth small talk. Least to say, you were bored as hell and wanted nothing more than to be in your stoner boyfriend’s arms. The week without him was also hell for you, too. You could run your fingers through his soft hair as you whispered how much he made you feel complete. Oh how you dreamed of him every night while you were gone—some nights you would dream dreams so sweet it would give a man cavities and other nights you dreamed dreams so steamy you could have fogged up a window. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as you remembered a particularly titillating dream.
Even though it was a dream, you felt every single thing that night and you were feeling it again. From the teasing, cool, feathery touches all across your blazing skin and the gravely whispery proclamations of affection in your ear, to the deep growls of satisfaction accompanied by naughty praises from your boyfriend and the sounds sex. Shit, you thought to yourself as you felt heat pooling in your lower regions as you remembered.
Your imagination was running wild with images of Connor in provocative positions as you dazed of into a salacious daydream. You could close your eyes and see him under you, his eyes darkened and dilated with desire and his mouth slightly agape as he watched you. In your sinful daydream felt so real as you felt a chill wash over the whole of your being because of the cold air of the room (in reality, it was the car’s air conditioning) hitting your sweaty, flaming flesh.
Summary: Dean and the Reader fall for each other but have a hard time expressing it, for fear of rejection.
Word Count: 1k-ish
Warnings: Slight Cursing, Fluff
Author’s Note: Heyyy guys!!! This is my entry for Mimi’s aka @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s “Mimi’s Trope Challenge”!! I got the prompt: Secretly in love but for some reason can’t express it. I hope you guys like it!! *hides face* Feedback is definitely welcomed!!
You know that butterfly feeling people say they get when they’re in love?
Well I used to think that was a bunch of bullshit. I wasn’t like your typical girly girl who was all about the weddings and the falling in love at first sight. It just wasn’t me.
Why, you ask?
Well, because in my humble opinion, true love didn’t exist. One didn’t just fall in love out of the blue with someone and say “oh you’re the one for me”. At least not in my book.
But fuck me, man. Who would have thought that I would eat my own words? And in huge heaps of it. Hell, even to this day, I’m at a loss for words with this overwhelming feeling. And it scared the living hell out of me.
Just something I wrote a while ago, thought I’d share it with all of you!!
My alarm went off and I realised that it was 7am. Too early to wake up on a Friday. I shut off the annoying alarm and reached over to the other side of the bed, where my wife always slept, but she wasn’t there. I panicked and spoke her name in a worried tone.
“I’m here, Harry.” Her voice came from behind me.
I rolled over onto my other side and saw her standing by the large built-in wardrobe, closing the sliding glass mirror. She was all dressed and her suitcase was up against the wall. It hit me again. My wife was leaving today. She was going to spend three days away from home, in Italy with two of her girlfriends, which left me to look after our two little girls. It wasn’t that I didn’t like spending time with my daughters. I loved it but I had never been left alone with them for longer than 24 hours. This was going to be a new experience for me. (Y/N) saw the look on my face and sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her hand over my bare forearm.
“I’ll be back on Monday morning, babe.”
“It seems like you’re going for longer than that.” I sighed.
“Harry, I’ve coped without you for months at a time, when you went on tour and when you were filming Dunkirk. I’m certain you can last for three days without me.” She said sweetly and leaned down to kiss me. I locked my arm around her neck and pulled her further down, deepening the kiss. My other arm went around her waist and I tugged her onto the bed so that we lay side-by-side. She squealed and I smiled, reconnecting our lips. I was going to be without her kisses for three days. I was going to be without her hugs for three days. The scent of her hair, the fragrance of her skin, making love to her, I wouldn’t have any of it for three whole days. Sure, I had been away from her for months but since finishing Dunkirk and my first solo album, I finally had time for my family and I had gotten used to having my wife around every day. Now, she was the one that was leaving. I didn’t want to let her go but the pressure of her hands on my chest made me release her slightly.
“If you keep kissing me like that, babe, I’ll never leave.” She murmured, burying her face in my neck. I’d love that. But she needed this holiday. The kids exhausted her, I could see it. My girl deserved a bit of fun and relaxation with her girlfriends.
“You have to go. Fae and Lara will kill me if I stop you from going on your little trip.” I said. My wife giggled and looked at me with the big eyes that I had fallen for so deeply very early on.
“Look after the girls for me, Harry.”
“I will, I promise.”
“I should say goodbye to them now. Then I’m going.”
My wife hopped off the bed and picked her handbag off the floor. She pecked my lips one last time and nuzzled her nose against mine.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, (Y/N).” I said, kissing her cheek warmly. She slowly pulled away and in her eyes were the first flood of tears, sparkling brightly. She held them back and took hold of the suitcase handle, opening the bedroom door. My gaze locked to hers for the final time as she blew me a kiss, closing the door, disappearing from the sight.
She was gone.
I lay on my back, in a bed that suddenly seemed too big for just me, the ceiling blank and boring. Because she was gone, everything had been leeched of colour and soul. She lit up this room, this house, this life. My life. I didn’t know how long I stayed in bed for. It must have been at least an hour and I knew that my wife was no longer in the house now, on her way to the airport with Fae and Lara. I dozed in and out of sleep, hardly getting more than 10 minutes because I couldn’t sleep without my girl in my arms. It was a bad sign. How am I going to go to sleep tonight without her? A loud voice cracked me, coming from somewhere down the hall.
I rubbed my face with my hands, sighing. It’s started already.
I specifically made this “Anti Anxiety” spell charm so that I could carry it with me while Driving (Driving/Highway Anxiety) It fits perfectly around my rear view mirror. It is my hope that you guys can make one too, and that it helps you in the ways it helped me.
A sachet, Cloth bag, or Jar to hold your herbs
One small piece of Selenite* (Or a pinch of course Sea Salt) to keep it cleansed, charged, and ready to go
Whether you chose to use a Bag, Sachet or Jar fill it up with your herbs. Hold the container in your hands, And feel your energy pass through, and activate the herbs, releasing their power. After this, Seal, or tie it tightly so you don’t lose any of your goodness. It is ready to be hung, carried, or given to someone as a talisman for Peace, Stability, and Anti Anxiety.
To Use: Just carry it with you. Use it for its aromatherapy qualities. When you’re feeling extra anxious, Hold it in your hands and “dust yourself” with it. Visualize any extra negative energy leaving your space.
*If you didn’t use selenite in your bag, Periodically allow your charm to sit under one full moon to keep it charged, and cleansed.
Being homeless is painful. Not the cold,
not the hunger, but the loneliness. Y/N had run away from home where she was
badly treated. But the night is cold and she would love some warmth. So that’s
why, when she sees a car parked nearby, she takes the chance to go and see. But
at that time, Y/N can’t know she’s about to disturb the sleep of a tired
person. And that same tired person can’t know how much his life is about to
change with only some kindness.
Theo Raeken x Reader
Warning: Contains spoils from 6x12!
Here you go, Theo’s prompt that won the
vote ! Thanks to @maddie110201 who proofread this and for everyone who voted
for this prompt!
It was too
much. The blows, the insults, the jumped meals, everything. You had survived
many disputes, endured the cries, the beatings, the ill-treatment. But it had
begun to be too much. You weren’t living in this house, it was surviving. Every
day was a torture; every day reminded you that your mother and her horrible
boyfriend didn’t want you. They were only keeping you to have the little money
the government was giving them for you. Money they took to buy themselves beers
and cigarettes. They seem to care about everything except for you.
weren’t living, so what was the point of staying? It was for all these reasons
that you had forged a protective stone around your heart. And why you had made
the decision to leave. Leave this dirty house full of sadness and anger. You
had taken the little personal effect you had and left in the middle of the
night. A cold night, a night like those of winters. A night where whatever you
were doing to warm up, no matter where you were going and how far you walked,
your feet creaking on the slight layer of ice formed where the water had
accumulated, you couldn’t warm up.
When I finally come to my senses and pry my welded eyelids
open, the first thing my brain registers is the dull throbbing of my jaw,
followed by the fact that my entire body has stiffened to the point of no
I’m lying on my side, my cheek pressed against a soft
surface. Upon moving my arms, I realize that my hands are bounded behind my
back tightly, the coarse material of rope digging into the tender skin of my
wrists. The same goes for my legs, my sneaker-clad feet tied together and
preventing me from squirming around too much.
That’s when the panic kicks in and I struggle to an upright
position, bumping my head against the low ceiling. Now that I’m sitting up, I
can see that I’m in a small car that seems to be racing a hundred miles per
Author’s Note: Here it is y’all! I’m so excited for you to read this and I really hope you enjoy this. Part three is in my docs and I haven’t started it yet, but I will write it soon and I can’t wait! Thanks to my amazing friend @lovelydob for proofreading this for me!
It was hard for me to avoid pronouns for a chunk of this, so I’m sorry for using female pronouns – I hate myself.
Ask for a follow back!
Thanks for 600+ followers, you’re all tight.x
Based (roughly) off the song “Muchacho” by Kings of Leon.
I don’t want to ruin anything, but there is mentions of d*ath. Please read at your own risk.x
Here’s something you won’t enjoy as much.x
It had been some time since you had done something like this –
gone and managed to pull off a surprise as well as you had this weekend.
Although you had spent a significant amount of money and time to make
this happen, you were glad you were going to see Tom after those couple
of months apart. And although you had seen his family over the holidays,
they were very excited to have you back in their home – and they were
also really nervous because they didn’t want to spill the secret to Tom.
After a year and a half of dating, it still managed to surprise you how
well you had integrated into the Holland household, but you definitely
loved being accepted so well into his family.
this is shitty but I love monsta x and I’ve finally found myself so I’m just happy that I finally wrote something warning: not smut but suggestive
“Hello?” my eyebrows draw together in confusion as indecipherable yelling comes through the speaker. “Shownu, do you need something?”
“Jooheon, please, I don’t need another kiss,” his voice is somewhat distant but returns to a louder volume when he turns back towards the phone. “Yeah, are you there? We’re out celebrating the nomination with some people from the company. Everyone had a bit to drink, but I think Jooheon–Jooheon, stop!–had the most.”
We both laugh softly and I stand from the couch to grab my car keys, “Is my boyfriend kissing you instead of me?”
“That’s a talk you need to have with him. I didn’t ask him to do it,” he scolds Jooheon once more. I slip one of the drunken boy’s sweatshirts over my shirt, and the hem falls near the bottom of my shorts, “I’ll come pick him up, Shownu. Are you at B28?”
The black, leather interior of the car is inviting and smells distantly of Jooheon. The engine turns over, and the car lurches forward over dark asphalt and through ambient lights. The drive is quiet and somewhat relaxing, a much needed space before dealing with Jooheon. Traffic stalls my trip, but once I pull up to the B28 traffic dissipates into a valet-serviced parking garage. I park the little Kia a block away from the restaurant and walk towards the front doors. The hostess leads me to a large booth in the corner, rowdy and reeking of alcohol. As I approach the table, Jooheon’s eyes light up and he smiles a wide, dopey grin.
“Hey babe, what are you doing here?” he hiccups in the middle of his sentence. Changkyun hits his arm and comments on his ogling, but Jooheon throws back but she’s so pretty.
“Well, I heard you were giving kisses to Shownu,” his eyes grew wide and he started shaking his head as my words flooded the table. His members and co-workers began laughing as he scrambled to deny my words, “I would never. I only kiss you. Besides, Shownu isn’t really my type.”
The chuckles increased into loud laughter and clapping and banging of fists on the table. I put my hands on Jooheon’s shoulders, “All right, it’s about time I get you home.”
Jooheon takes his time bidding goodbye to everyone at the table, and I tug his sleeve in an attempt to direct him towards the door. Shownu eventually aides me in guiding Jooheon through the main entrance of B28 and down a block to the silver Kia parked at a meter. I open the passenger door for Jooheon, but before he settles into the car, he wraps Shownu in his arms. I can’t help but laugh, and Shownu pats Jooheon’s back. We finally manage to get Jooheon into the car, and I thank Shownu for his help. He quickly thanks me instead. The car pulls away and Jooheon’s giggling starts immediately.
We pull to a red light, and he leans his head against my shoulder. My hand comes up to run my fingers through his silver strands, and I watch in the rear view mirror as his eyes drift shut and a soft smile spreads across his face. He sighs contently and his voice is raspy, “You know I love you, right?”
“I know, babe,” he lifts his head as I speak. His eyes are wide and glassy and cheeks painted red as the car begins rolling, “I’d never kiss Shownu and not you. I’m serious, you know me.”
“Jooheon,” I laugh, “babe, don’t worry. Everything is fine.”
“I’ll prove it to you,” he mutters softly, lips ghosting near my ear. He leaves small pecks on my cheek and the corner of my mouth. His plump lips settle on my neck, leaving more passionate and lingering kisses across the expanse of sensitive skin. My fingers grip the wheel tighter than before, knuckles turning white against the black leather. A small whine escapes my lips, and Jooheon suddenly separates himself from me to watch my face.
“Jooheon, please,” I mutter, eyes staring fixated on the road ahead of me, “not while I’m driving.”
“Am I distracting?” he whispers, his voice raspy with a smirk across his face. I nod, refusing to look into his eyes. The car comes to a stop in my driveway, and I exit the car with the keys in my pocket before Jooheon can say another word. He follows me into my apartment, walking so close behind that I can feel his body warmth as I unlock my door. Stepping into the apartment we both kick off our shoes, and he flops onto the couch as I gather some water and ibuprofen for him. I lay the contents on the coffee table for him, and he lays his head on my thighs as I sit next to him. My fingers weave their way through his hair once again, and his eyes meet mine for the first time since the car.
“You know, there’s more places I want to kiss you,” he whispers, his hands finding my hips. I smile at his grinning face and deepening dimples, “Oh really? And where would that be?”
“I don’t think you want me to say them, princess,” the entire mood changes as he mutters that one word. “You would be embarrassed if I said it.”
My cheeks light up red, “Even if you did say them, I wouldn’t let you when you’re like this.”
“You’re no fun,” he pouts, shutting his eyes softly as my hands continue to tug lightly at the strands of his hair. “I know. Let’s get to bed.”
He follows me to my bedroom, water bottle in his left hand and my hand in his right. He crawls into my bed in nothing but boxers, and myself in one of his T-shirts and shorts. His arms wrap around me to pull us flush against one another. When he speaks, his chest vibrates and his heart beat thumps softly, “Tomorrow, when I’m not drunk, will you let me kiss you wherever I want?”
“We’ll see, tiger,” I chuckle, relaxing in his grip. He whispers one final I love you before dozing off, his forehead pressed against my back and arms draped over my hips.
Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)
Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*
can you make a theo raeken smut where the reader is psychotic ( loves to kill ppl something like that) and theo loves the reader because she is as psychotic as him and they are like bonnie & clyde?
can you make a theo raeken smut where the reader loves the badass side of theo ( like he’s killing people or something) - btw your page is awesome
ok so a warning in advance i wrote this premise at three in the morning so its prob gross and unedited bc i dont feel like reading it over right now. also its a two shot so the next part will come another time
1. difficult to understand; obscure.
The first time you met him you were but a child.
Evening long gone, you stared through your curtains into the darkness, moonlight shining through the silky material and making a dreamlike bath of silver onto your bed.
You kicked your legs restlessly. Summer had begun to creep in and you were becoming agitated with the weather. With this in mind you wrestled off your blankets, no more a cool swaddle of comfort but hot and constricting.
The closet creaked.
You stiffened. You could only see through a sliver of the opening, but it was terrifying. Your foolish imagination pictured something staring at you from the darkness, some unknown monster ready to devour you.
A whimper forced itself from your throat as you pulled the covers back over you, drawing them up to your neck. You looked away but that only made it worse; the fear of what could be there intensified - and if you weren’t looking then what would stop it from devouring you?
So you switched to staring the closet down again, only to lose your wits and look away, the cycle repeating. At the end you were shivering, soaked in sweat as you shut your eyes tight.
I’m going to d-die, mommy, daddy, h-help-!
At the voice your thoughts came to a halting stop.
“Well if that’s not dramatic, I don’t know what is, kid.”
You were still tense, small hands grasping the sheets so tight you could rip them apart. A hot fear pressed itself into your stomach, but childish curiousity won out, and the world came back into vision as your eyes snapped open.
A wide eye stared back owlishly.
Your lips parted to let out a silent scream, frozen in shock. The eye blinked, an inky black pupil dilating as it examined you.
The horrifying thing was that you had sworn it had just been bright gold.
“W-Who-” Your bottom lip trembled. Another look proved that the creature didn’t have one eye, no the other was just covered in a weird cloth - you had seen the same thing in one of the pirate picture books in your living room.
Actually this may not even be a creature. The longer you stared it proved that while a stranger, the man in front of you looked every bit like, well, a man, and not the monster you were imagining.
The stranger adjusted his eyepatch, leaning back so that you were given an even better vantage point. He rocked on his heels and moved to the left in a motion so smooth it was like he was walking on air. Your stomach squeezed when you realized he was.
“Go away!” You said, voice shaking but defiant. The man only raised a single eyebrow.
You did what you were used to doing to escape the monsters. You closed your eyes so tight the skin burned and covered your face.
He was still there, impossibly. His gaze rested on your form and he snickered, leaning on his cane. You opened your eyes again in fright.
“Not gonna work, kid,” He tapped his finger to his head. “Can’t escape what’s in your mind.”
“M-My mind?” You mouthed uselessly, barely processing this, but easily distracted. The clockwork in your head ground slowly. “So you’re my im-ima-” What was that stupid adult word. “-imagination?”
“There’s a difference to being from your mind and in your mind, kid.”
You screwed up your face. “You make no sense mister.”
He giggled again, and it really was a giggle, one that stretched his lips too wide along snow white teeth and rose uneasy goosebumps to your arms. “I don’t make sense? You are awfully polite to someone you don’t know, who invaded your room in the middle of the night.”
You were dutifully reminded that yes, he was exactly that as soon as the words left his mouth. The fear that had left and been replaced with naive confusion and curiousity instantly came slamming back into you.
As if sensing your terror, his eye flashed gold again. You had no time to feel good that you hadn’t been crazy earlier as he invaded your personal space to get right in your face, a smooth, gloved hand pressing a finger into your temple.
This time, when you screamed, it wasn’t silent.
You were bawling by the time your parents burst through your bedroom door, snot bubbling in your nose and tears leaving salty trails down your cheeks.
Through the cooing questions of ‘what’s wrong honey’ and pats of comfort, you just managed to spot the man watching you with the same grin.
You pointed. “There! Mommy there!”
You could only look in disbelief when your parents turned back to you. The expression on their faces was one you were too accustomed with. The same look they had when you dropped a plate of cookies because they had been too hot and you were impatient. The same look they had when you got frightened of something in a movie and they had to remind you that it wasn’t real.
The same look they’d had countless times when you told them of monsters in your closet.
“Darling,” Your mom sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “There’s no one there. Do you want to sleep with us tonight?”
You held straight eye contact with the man as he winked, putting a finger to his lips before disappearing.
The second time you met him must have been at least four years later.
You’d been getting ready for school, adjusting yourself in the bathroom. You washed your face, looked up, and there he was in the mirror, looking back.
The heel of your foot hit the door as you lurched back, and you lost your balance, slamming your head into the wall with a pained grunt.
“Y/N?” The muffled voice of your dad came from somewhere in the house.
“I’m fine!” You yelled back unconsciously, far too occupied, still rubbing your head while your vision spotted.
The man sighed.
“Just as clumsy it seems,” He mused before phasing out of the mirror like it was nothing, looking around your bathroom. A flash of amusement passed through his eyes and you realized in horror a pair of underwear you possessed was hanging off the towel rails. You grabbed it, face burning.
He scrunched up his nose in mock disgust, before his expression went neutral as he rolled his eye. “Please kid. You’re like what, five? Calm down.”
“I am not five,” you bristled, defensive of your age. “I turn ten this year. Ten!” You held up all your fingers, proud of the achievement. Ha!
The man let loose a laugh, that odd one, the hollow scrape of pitch that echoed against the walls.
“I’m surprised you remember me,” He tilted his head, and the floating top hat followed the movement.
Of course you did.
That night had traumatized you as a kid. You couldn’t begin to remember all the nightmares dreams you’d had about him since then. Always grinning, always behind you, looping his cane around your body at the last moment to pull you into the void.
“I guess,” was all you said. It was a relief to see that you weren’t insane and imagined that as a kid, or at least that you were just forever crazy, even now.
He hummed, crossing his legs in the air as he invaded your personal space yet again. You tensed.
“I’m not scared o’ you,” You told him, stressing the words in case he didn’t hear you properly. He snorted.
“Says the one scared of make believe monsters in their closet.”
“I-you-” You sputtered. “All children were scared of that at point! I was only a kid!”
He seemed the most amused at this. “I’m pretty sure you’re still a kid, but whatever floats your boat, brat.”
The outright staring competition that took place after that was broken when he cupped his chin in his hand, his eyes lidding.
“Aren’t you late for something?”
You narrowed your eyes at him before jolting, wiping your hands on your skirt and running out of the bathroom. “School!”
He trailed behind you lazily, and you weren’t surprised when your parents didn’t notice the snickering man, flailing upside down in the air beside you in the car.
“Y/N, didn’t I tell you to stop messing with my hair?” Your mom stared at you in the rear view mirror.
“B-But!” You held out your innocent hands but she only sighed in disappointment and turned her eyes back to the road. You shot a glare at the man, who only let a Cheshire grin cross his expression.
He didn’t stop following you after that.
Whether it be at school, or at home, or wherever you went actually, it was like you had a persistent imaginary friend. That’s what you had convinced yourself he was - since no one could see him but you; however as you grew older you started to waver on that theory when the things he did would affect the real world.
(Like that one time he got mad at your fifth grade teacher and splashed her coffee mug all over her blouse with a monotone “oops”.)
You didn’t ask him why he was always around, and to be fair you didn’t want to know. At first he had been a pest, and you had been very adamant on getting him to leave you alone. But as the days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and then to years, you grew worried of the exact opposite.
When had he left such a permanent stamp on your life? Was it when he saved you from tripping into a ditch that one time in third grade? Or when he gave hell to the guy who had embarrassed you in seventh grade by pretending to like you only for it to be a prank? (The look on his face when an invisible gust of wind knocked him off balance and his bag into the mud, giving him a makeover from the splash will forever make you collapse into giggles.)
“Why did you do it?” You remember asking, mascara running down your face - why did you bother dressing up for him, for this “date”, he was just like the rest, you were an idiot - when you got home that day. The glove wearing psychopath that followed you around did not care the most about you, this you knew from experience and many embarrassing memories. So why, at times, did he make it seem like he did?
Your imaginary friend only stared at you blankly, making you shiver. He got like this sometimes - where his grinning persona would falter and you got a glimpse at the insanity beneath. There were occasions when it slipped, when he would hurt you and not worry about it - you were not mentioning that knife accident - or when he would just stare into space like a statue.
This was one of those moments. Your hand was frozen with a baby wipe, in the process of wiping your mascara off while he stared at you with something swirling in that bottomless, pitch black void of his eye. He called you kid all the time, but the look now on his face was unreadable, timeless, as if he had been around for such a long time it was incomprehensible for you, seen things you couldn’t imagine.
His head tilted, blonde tufts of his hair falling in front of his eye-patch. You blinked and then it was over, whatever had been there was gone and he was grinning like normal.
“Why not?” He rolled his eye, flicking your head so that it clonked painfully into the mirror. You yelped and whirled around to give him a piece of your mind but he was already gone. You rubbed at the spot on your temple that would have been bruising if any of that was real.
Yes, if it was real. You had learned long ago that while the bane of your life could mess with the outside world to a certain degree, he couldn’t actually touch you at all. It was only in your mind that he projected into when he did.
Still, pain he formed in your mind hurt just as much as in real life.
You stared at your reflection, dropping the dirty wipe into the garbage limply.
“What?” His voice was startled in a way that you had never heard before.
You blinked. You had gone to take a dip in the pool, and as you floated on the water’s surface, peering up, it had come to you.
“I said, Bill,” you repeated. “I can’t keep calling you ‘imaginary friend’ my whole life.”
He had never given you a name for him, and you in turn, like you always did, never asked. But he had been in your life for way too long, and you needed something to tie him down, something tangible you could finally latch his presence to.
Maybe that’s why he looked at you that way once the word left your lips. Maybe he didn’t want to be tied down.
“Why ‘Bill’?” He asked after a long silence, sitting on top the water’s surface as easily as you were floating.
When you didn’t answer he grew impatient and hooked your ankle with his cane, pulling you closer with a deadly tilt in his expression. “Why. Bill.”
While he didn’t actually pull you to him - again, he couldn’t touch you - the image in your mind of him doing so had distracted you enough that you lost your careful poise and floundered under the surface. You came up spluttering, hair sticking to your face and your mouth.
“What the hell,” You batted the water harshly with your palm, sending a splash at him with an annoyed tick of your eyebrow.
The water phased right through him. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Y/N.”
You stopped. It was never Y/N. It was always ‘kid’, or some other ridiculous nickname he gave you. Whenever he said your actual name you knew he wasn’t joking around.
“I don’t know,” You rolled your eyes, gesturing to the brick pattern of his shirt. The shirt accompanied with his bow-tie and dapper but messy look over-all somehow just…fit the name perfectly. “It suits you.”
The man eyed you before laughing into a gloved hand. It bordered on the brink that you wondered if he was really okay, but eventually he stopped, shaking his head with a smile that let you know he had some kind of inside joke you weren’t aware of.
“What?” You asked. “Making fun of the name?”
“Not at all,” He mused, snapping the end of his glove onto his wrist, and you pretended you weren’t fascinated by the way the soft material accentuated his skin. “Bill, I like it.”
“Really?” You said, mouth open before you cleared your throat. “I mean, uh, okay.”
“Really,” He clarified, that glint in his eye again showing there was something you were definitely missing before he stretched his arms above his head.
Just like that he was gone.
You absorbed his absence, going back to floating, the clouds looking to be pieces of taffy in the sky.
Wonder when he’s coming back this time, you wondered absentmindedly.
Bill - yes, we were sticking with this - was sporadic. Sometimes you went to bed, and he was still there in the morning. Sometimes he followed you around for weeks at a time before he disappeared. But he always did, fading into the air around you like he was never there.
He could leave and be back in five minutes, or you wouldn’t see him again till the next month. Once he didn’t return for almost a whole year and you wondered if you were finally regaining your sanity, but alas, you found him lounging on your bed when you arrived home from school.
You always wondered where he was going, but you didn’t bother to ask him. (You were scared, too scared, you never asked him anything) He had a life just like you did, so there was no point.
You made a finger gun with your hand and halfheartedly flicked it to the sky.